Fandom: Red Dragon/The Silence of the Lambs/Hannibal

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham

Rating: R/NC-17

Beta: Malakai_Amlug (thank you very much)

Summary: Sometimes running is not possible as the past catches up with you.

Notes/Warning: This is a slash story which means that it features two grown up men in love with each other and physically expressing this emotion in various forms. If you are in any way or degree homophobic, disgusted, disturbed, feel threatened or weirded out by such a relationship, please do not read any further and don’t write me any stupid e-mails to preach about the wrongs or rights of homosexual relationships.

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are by no means mine and belong to Thomas Harris. If you want to have some picture as a guideline for what these guys actually look like I would strongly suggest watching the movie versions of the books, which were done by DeLaurentis Pictures. As for the musical help I had with this story. The chapter titles and the paragraphs of lyrics in each chapter are songs composed and performed by Placebo. Therefore they are not mine either. I am not making any money with this and purely do it for my own amusement and entertainment.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN - Bruise Pristine


“It’s plain to see,
it’s either you or me”


The sun was reflected in shards of white on the surface, dancing on the tips of the small waves. The salty air dried on the skin and drained all humidity from it, leaving it sticky.

A slight breeze gave the illusion of a lower temperature. Only the sting of the sun on the heated skin was an indication of the real temperature.

Will stretched his arms over his head. The neck and the spine shone with sweat that trickled down, disappearing into the swimming trunks. The bright sunlight gave the heavily tanned skin of the younger man a golden luminosity and made the blonde hair shine like spun gold.

Hannibal settled more comfortably into his chair as he watched the other man enjoying the heat and the open ocean. The blonde’s face was relaxed and his eyes sparkled like the waves. Will was appar-ently very much at home at sea.

The older man had sought refuge in the shade of the parasol to keep out of the biting sunlight. He had soon realized that the heat and the intensity of the sun were increased tenfold by the masses of water surrounding them.

During his first days in Port-of-Spain, when he had followed the younger man around to find out about his habits and schedule, he had been surprised to find out that Will owned a sailing yacht.

Jörmungandr was a sailing yacht by Bénéteau of the model 57. It had a dark blue body that was al-most black. It was a medium sized yacht that was designed for up to five people. The living space was divided into a master bedroom with an adjoining bathroom, a kitchen, a dining/living area, a single bedroom with a separate bathroom and another double bedroom with an adjoining bathroom.

The whole interior was made of polished wood and white linen upholstery. Only the upholstery on deck was made of dark blue linen, matching the hull of the yacht.

The sleek ship was dancing over and through the waves like a seasoned ballerina. The light body was almost hovering over the water.

Hannibal had never spent a long time on board a ship. There had been neither the need nor the ne-cessity. But watching Will during his observation and now while the younger man relaxed, he found the vehicle – most of all its impact on Will – to be very enjoyable.

The breeze got stronger and tugged at the blonde’s hair. But the windblown hair looked the same as they had when they had left for the harbor that noon. Gone was the neatly arranged hair from the younger man’s FBI days. Even the ex-Special Investigator’s hair refused to be tamed.

When Hannibal had woken up in the morning his first thought had been about how different every-thing looked from this new perspective. It was as if he had stepped out of his past life and was start-ing anew at some unknown and different place. Not that this was a bad thing, but time ought to be spent thinking about it. It was not every day that an encounter with another person haunted him for so long and had such a deep impact on him.

He was also in awe about the new direction his life was taking. There was a lot of promise and even the glimpse of a reward that was waiting for him.

While thinking about how to proceed and where to go now, Hannibal had started to trace random patterns on Will’s skin, feeling the smoothness of the younger man’s body. This action helped him to focus and had the satisfying side-effect that he was able to indulge in more intimacy with Will.

The soft snuffling and the slight tremor going through the body resting against him, told Hannibal that the other was slowly reaching consciousness. There was a sleep laden sigh ghosting against his chest and he looked down to see the younger man drowsily trying to focus his sight. After another second the golden head came to rest on his shoulder and Will pressed closer to him.

He had was able to feel a feeling of power rush into him and at the same time he also felt extremely protective of the man entrusting himself to Hannibal like this.

And exactly this feeling was starting to build inside him again as he watched Will relaxing and enjoy-ing the day and their outing on the open sea. It was like watching a wild bird that had been released from its cage and was allowed to spread its wings for the first time in a long time.

Seeing the freedom that the open sea promised, Hannibal wondered if it would be possible to live like this. No ties, not even to a certain location. Free like the wind, going wherever one wanted to. It was quite tempting.

But with the freedom of movement came a rootless-ness and insecurity that might be difficult to han-dle. Hannibal liked to be independent and free but he also liked to have a kind of safe haven, a place to call his own that he could return to time and again and where he could be sure to find the peace and security to recharge. A ship was not this place. Not for him.

When he had left his view behind after the killing of Pazzi, he had turned his back on the one place his heart had felt a connection to. It had been a rational and logical decision, a decision he would make again any time, but he missed Florence. There was something about the city that had always called to him.

The decision to go to Rio de Janeiro had stemmed from a curiosity about the differences between Europe and a Latin America. For some time until his parting with Clarice he had considered moving to another location.

Port-of-Spain had been only a temporary refuge. He had wanted to stay only as long as it took to decide upon where to go next. It was only because of the unexpected reunion with Will that Hannibal had stayed as long as he had.

But the decision about the next destination had been made. There was nothing that kept him tied to the Caribbean. Nothing that couldn’t be moved. He wanted to return to Europe.

With Italy out of question it had been a difficult decision. London, Edinburgh, Paris, Nice, Monte Carlo, Amsterdam, Geneva, Vienna … there were many possibilities but none of them had appealed to him. Madrid, Barcelona, Dublin, Athens, Sophia? He was not sure what exactly he was looking for except a European city.

He had at first considered going to a Mediterranean country like Greece, France or Spain. But in the end he had decided that the only Mediterranean country he wanted to go to was Italy and that was out of question. Another reason for changing his mind about Southern countries was the weather and climate.

True, there was winter in these countries as well – in some parts at least – but he could do without constant sunshine and the heat. He had seen more than his share of it.

So what was left? Well, the rest of Europe of course. Central Europe gave him the feeling of being trapped. The Northern countries were also not what he had in mind. He could not put his finger on what exactly bothered him about the idea of living in Belgium or the Netherlands or why he refused to move to Great Britain or Ireland.

In the end he had decided that he wanted to turn east. It wouldn’t have to be Lithuania but at bit more to the east than the other countries was what he had in mind. And that was how his choice had been made.


“Trying to be ruthless
in the face of beauty”



Prague.

It was a city with a lot of promise. Hannibal had read up on the history and the people living there and he had at once felt like knowing the place. It was not as deep a connection he felt for Florence but there was something, something strong enough to ensure an instant connection between Hanni-bal and the city.

There was the promise of culture and history combined with the flair of an old European city that had seen hundreds, if not a millennia of years pass by.

Hannibal wanted to take a more detailed look at the city before making a definite decision but he was determined to leave in the next two to three weeks. He could feel the pull of the Old World that was beckoning to him.

The only obstacle in the way was Will. The other did not know yet that he was to move from Port-of-Spain to Prague. Hannibal was not overly concerned about the reaction to the news but he could do without complaints and any probable fighting against the move.

But, it still remained to be seen what the other’s reaction was like.

Hannibal’s eyes followed Will as the younger man paced over the deck of the sailing yacht. The rest-lessness was no sign of anxiousness but the need to release pent up energy. The sun seemed to force the blonde to move constantly in order to get rid of the power that was slowly growing.

The slight breeze that wafted over the deck ruffled Will’s hair and caressed over Hannibal’s skin. Without the reprieve from the wind, the heat would have been oppressive. The temperature was not any higher than usually but the water all around seemed to increase the heat immensely. Hannibal was grateful for the parasol.

He settled back on the bench and picked up the travel guide on Prague to find out more about his new view. The information was of course provided for tourists and therefore there was no real infor-mation to be found on everyday life, but it was enough to give a brief overview about what the city had to offer from a historic and cultural point of view.

Flipping the book open to where the small post-it sticker marked the page where he had stopped reading, Hannibal spared a last glance at Will who was preparing to go for a swim, before he contin-ued his reading of the guide.

There were several recommendations of places close to Prague that were interesting to visit and of-fered the possibility to explore the countryside surrounding the city.

Hannibal glanced up and over the page, watching Will put a towel to the side for later use. The younger man stretched a last time and then jumped over board into the Caribbean water.

Losing all interest in his reading, he closed the book again and got up to watch Will swim. The blonde moved with efficiency and with a lot of grace, as he glided through the water. It showed that he was used to the ocean.

There was a sparkle of blue and purple in the water. The sunlight reflected oddly on the surface and Hannibal squinted his eyes as he tried to make out why the surface looked different. A small plastic bag floated in the water, part of it filled with air and sticking out of the water. It looked like a small sailing ship.

Will started swimming around the ship and Hannibal found his attention shifting from the polluted water to the former FBI profiler.

Just watching the younger man as he enjoyed himself made Hannibal starting to reconsider his opin-ion on going swimming. He was not really a passionate swimmer to begin with and the incredible heat had only added to his disinterest in dunking himself in the vastness of the sea, but the way Will basked in the wet element made him reconsider his opinion.

There was a sudden stop in Will’s movement and something like discomfort flashed over his face and the younger man stopped his rounds to swim back to the ship. His strides were less enthusiastic though. It was as if he was trying to swim through molasses.

This change in behavior had Hannibal walk to the side of the boat and leaning over the railing. He carefully watched Will’s progress and his movements to make sure that the younger man was alright. He noticed the strain on the other’s face and the way his tanned skin lost its golden tint and turned ashen. There was something very wrong with the former profiler.

Slowly Will drew closer to his destination and by the time he reached the hull of the ship, Hannibal had already knelt down and was reaching out for the younger man. He grabbed Will’s shaking hand and pulled up and out of the water. There was not much help from Will himself with the matter.

Agonizing pain flashed over the other’s features as Hannibal helped him onboard and the ashen pallor became even paler. The moment Will lay on the wooden planks of the yacht he heaved and puked in front of the older man’s feet.


“Bruise, Pristine,
Serene”