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Chapter Text

Hannibal had his fingers wrapped around another man's kidney when he realized something was wrong.

It wasn't the situation at hand; no, he had that well under control. Being asked to perform emergency surgery on a potential murder victim was child's play when you used to be a surgeon. He would be out of this mess in mere minutes, washing his hands of blood and climbing back into an FBI squad car. He had no reservations, no fear, when it came to life and death situations. 

Something was wrong with Will Graham, more so than usual. Hannibal's dark eyes darted between the man on the gurney and the one on the street, losing his focus as he caught the look on Will's face. His expression was unmoving, his face as still as stone, and his eyes were glazed as if he was lost in a trance. He took a mindless step toward the ambulance, toward Hannibal, and Hannibal had to avert his gaze to stop himself from leaping onto the pavement and pouncing on Will where he stood. He was so alluring at that moment. So beautiful in the halo of light from the police cars. 

The world around Hannibal faded. His attention was divided between the man he was trying to ruin and the man whose life he was trying to save. Rescue meant nothing when a man of such unparalleled beauty was giving him his complete attention. The wailing of police sirens morphed into the background, and a bead of sweat trailed down the side of his head. Will was an incubus, a demon on his shoulder seducing him away from the task at hand, and he didn't even know it.

Will's blank despondence was not the issue; he had always been difficult to comprehend. It was the lack of such. Things were different now, in that Will was laying himself bare in his expression. His defenses had fallen. Hannibal could have reached into his skull like a hot knife through butter, cutting through his sweat-soaked forehead and getting his hands on Will's infected brain. Will's emotions were written on his face, a cocktail of paralyzing mindsets he was rapidly shifting through.  

Suspicion. Realization. Betrayal. Conflict. Interest. Acceptance. Arousal.

All in that order. 

The final state of mind, the one Hannibal could sense in the way Will bit his lip and quickened his breathing, made Hannibal the most intrigued. It was the last thing he'd expected from Will, a man so isolated he likely hadn't been on a date since college. A man who wore thick flannels and hid his eyes behind his glasses most of the time. 

Hannibal should have known better than to underestimate someone. That never went well, in his experience.

He had just stepped out of the ambulance, his arm still sticky with residual blood that had seeped through the gloves, when Will stuttered something unintelligible and ran off. All of the commotion on the scene rendered him unnoticed by everyone but Hannibal, who draped a towel over his bloodied arm and followed him for reasons even he wasn't sure of. 

He stayed far enough behind to avoid being seen, though Will was distracted enough it didn't matter. They dashed through the empty hall, with Hannibal still running the towel along his arm to dry off the blood. When he turned a corner Will had gone through first, Will was nowhere to be found - but the echo of the nearby bathroom door slamming shut still rang out. 

Hannibal furrowed his brow, creeping up to the door he'd disappeared behind. It was a single-use bathroom, more prone to echoing due to the lack of stalls, and Will's breathing was audible through the thin door. From here, they seemed to be sounds of distress. 

Hannibal considered knocking. Perhaps he'd read the man's emotions wrong, and he needed someone to comfort him through the panic. He'd only seen Will from a distance, after all, and microexpressions could be tricky. Will might need a friend. More importantly, Hannibal might need this opportunity to build trust. 

Will was tough to crack. He wouldn't bring his walls down no matter how hard Hannibal tried, and this building suspicion wasn't going to help his case. Will had just seen him perform a perfect surgical intervention, a defining trait of the Chesapeake Ripper he'd been studying for so long. That couldn't bode well for Hannibal, not when someone as talented as Will was hovering over his shoulder.

It was the reason Will's disease was such a godsend, and why he kept it secret; the longer he hid it from him, the worse it would get, and the more unreliable he would be. With every bout of lost time, every hallucination, Will was making himself more and more vulnerable to manipulation. Soon, he would be questioning what he was capable of. Any accusation that spilled from his lips wouldn't go much farther, evaporating like a cloud of breath on a cold day. 

So the plan was to let it continue to fester. To let Will dig his own grave. All he had to do was coax Will into the darkness, and Will would take it from there. 

He wasn't going to waste the opportunity to allay Will's suspicions. He raised his knuckles to knock when a faint whimper escaped from the crack underneath the door. The sound jolted him; he knew enough about human emotion to gauge a specific sound, and this wasn't one of panic or despair. 

Short bursts of air escaped Will's mouth, and Hannibal could tell he was stifling another whimper. No, not a whimper, a moan. He was moaning against something, likely his hand, trying to keep silent through an array of pleasure. His other hand slid across something wet, and he gasped. Hannibal held back a smile. 

He'd read Will right after all. 

Hannibal leaned forward, noting a thin crevice between the door and the frame that gave him a minuscule glimpse into the inside of the bathroom. He positioned himself out of Will's line of sight, allowing himself to see only if he tilted his head in the right direction. There were vague colors and outlines, but his desperate sounds and sporadic movement were enough to tell Hannibal the truth. 

Will was standing against the wall of the bathroom, pants unzipped, stroking his erect cock. He had his bent elbow pressed to his mouth, heaving short breaths and moaning against his skin. Hannibal felt a rush of arousal, and he glanced back and forth across the hallway to make sure he wasn't being watched himself. The hall was empty; everyone was too distracted by the scene outside. He was free to look as long as he wanted.

"Fuck," Will whispered, throwing his head back. A whine escaped his throat before he could stop it, and he moved to cover his mouth again. "Oh..."

Hannibal licked his lips, brushing his clean hand along the front of his pants. He couldn't come undone, not now, but he couldn't shake the luxurious thought of Will's smooth skin in the palm of his hand. The salty taste of Will's semen on his tongue. He was seconds away from pushing the door open and kneeling on the filthy bathroom tile, his suit be damned. He would get to take Will's cock, look into his eyes, and witness pleasure overtake him. Oh, it would be perfect. 

"Hannibal," Will murmured. "Hannibal."

Hannibal froze for a moment, convinced he'd been seen, but Will didn't budge. He continued to pleasure himself, even more excited this time now that Hannibal's name had escaped his lips. It was as if he had admitted something to himself he'd kept bottled up, and now he could enjoy the consequences. 

Will was thinking of him.

This thought, this sight, introduced an entirely new perspective to the situation. Although he hadn't confirmed it, Hannibal was sure Will knew the truth. At least, part of him did. He may have been pushing it down for now, not wanting to accept his own psychiatrist might be the ruthless killer he'd been searching for, but there was no mistaking the look in his eyes. There was no mistaking that Will knew who the Chesapeake Ripper was. Hannibal was the perfect subject, the perfect example of Will's profile, and Will would have to admit it to himself at some point. 

He may have been too late now. He didn't have time to let the disease progress. He still had so much more work to do, and if Will knew something now, that would not work. 

But maybe he didn't have to go that route. Disease, after all, was unpredictable. He couldn't control it like he could other things. Yes, this was the wrong direction. 

There was another direction he could take. It was risky, but it would lead to a much greater outcome. One much more pleasurable, one in which he stood to gain quite a bit more than he did now. It would be more fun, too, a better way to indulge his curiosity. If he saved Will's life, Will would owe him something. He would owe Hannibal time, and that time was all he needed to get inside the other man's head. 

Hannibal had to know more. He was frothing at the mouth to learn everything. 

With how guarded Will was, however, it wasn't going to come out naturally. It would have to be revealed another way, in due time - and Hannibal knew just the way to go about it. 

Will let out one more half-whimper, one more exhale of Hannibal's name, before he orgasmed. His body relaxed as he heaved a massive sigh. His hand stopped moving, and he stood there in silent shame for a while as he caught his breath. 

Hannibal turned around and left him behind, making it back to the crime scene five minutes before Will did. He let himself be questioned, and finally, he was given the chance to wash his hands in one of the medical sinks. He washed himself three times before he felt clean again, and by then he found Will leaning against one of the squad cars. It seemed his job was done for now, so Hannibal migrated over to him.

If he said what he was thinking, there wouldn't be any going back. This outcome seemed so much better than anything else he could have dreamed, however, and he wasn't going to waste the chance. 

He leaned next to Will, staring out at the scene before them. "Have you ever experienced a moment of clarity in an emergency?" He asked, knowing what that would spark in Will. Sure enough, Will blushed, averting his eyes. 

"Yes," he said. "I have. I'm assuming it's happened to you just now?"

"Yes. And I am deeply ashamed that I didn't think about it earlier. Yet I believe there is still a chance to reverse this entirely."

"What are you talking about?" 

"I believe I know what is wrong with your brain," Hannibal admitted, "and if I'm right, we need to do something about it soon."

~~~

Hannibal didn't see Will for another three weeks. 

It was just as Hannibal suspected: anti-NMDA receptor encephalitis. Will was one of the luckier patients, with the country's most efficient doctors at his disposal and the benefit of an early diagnosis. He'd undergone various treatments - steroids, immunotherapy, plasmapheresis - and he was finally given the okay to go home with a large bag of medications. He had to stay away from work for another few weeks, just in case, but it seemed he was on the right track to healing. 

Hannibal knew he had to visit him at some point, and he decided to do it when Will was home. It would be a less stressful setting, and Will would be more free to say what he wanted. 

He festered over a potential gift to bring; Will didn't need alcohol when his brain was so fragile. He wasn't the flowers type of man. Eventually, he decided on a box of gourmet dog treats and a bottle of expensive aftershave. He hoped Will would appreciate it, rather than taking it as an insult. 

He drove to Will's house from the store, heart pounding in his chest as he considered what was in store. Sure, he'd built trust with Will and saved him from an untimely fate, but he'd also erased his only opportunity to save himself from scrutiny. Will was sane now, in control of his own emotions, and he would no longer be unreliable if he decided to turn Hannibal in. Hannibal no longer had the means to control him, and now he was wobbling on a precarious tightrope. 

Will was surprisingly put together for someone who had just gotten over a severe brain infection. He'd styled his hair and was wearing neat clothes, like he had been expecting Hannibal for a while. He gave a tight smile once he saw who was at the door, and a massive horde of dogs rushed around him to greet their guest. They recognized him from his brief visits to the house before, when he had to feed them, and they were clearly excited to see their source of food. Will whistled, and they sat at attention. 

"Doctor Lecter," he said. "It's good to see you. It's been a while."

"Good to see you too, Will." Hannibal held out his offerings. "I brought you gifts, as a get-well gesture. I hope you're feeling better."

A genuine smile lit up Will's face as he saw the dog treats. "Oh, you've just made a group of dogs very happy," he said. "And I see you're wanting to make me smell better?"

"You deserve better than what you were getting for Christmas," Hannibal said with a smirk. "How have you been feeling? I'm sorry you didn't see me in the hospital. You were asleep every time I came to visit."

"I was basically asleep for three weeks straight." Will shrugged. "Encephalitis really takes its toll on you." 

"I do wish to talk to you about what happened. It doesn't have to be today if you don't want that. But perhaps you'd be comfortable coming back to therapy soon?"

Will stared at him for a moment before stepping aside. "Why don't you come in, Doctor? If you have time."

"Plenty."

He followed Will inside, who whistled again for the dogs. They herded into the house, tails wagging, and Will set the box of treats on the kitchen counter. 

"I'm just going to start with a little bit. Make them last longer, see if they like it. Sometimes they throw up if they have something they're not used to."

"It's your gift. Anything you wish to do with it."

"You know me well. Dog treats over flowers."

Hannibal looked around at the eager pets whimpering for their treats. For a split second, he was drawn back to the sound of Will's moaning coming from behind the bathroom door, and he blinked to erase it from his mind. 

Will took out two treats and tore them both into three pieces, one for each dog. Each one gobbled it up. 

"You've succeeded," Will said. "They're impressed."

"Broadening their palates." Hannibal nodded. "Always my goal with the culinary arts." 

"I'm sorry this place is kind of a wreck. I've been trying to spend my time home cleaning." Will led them into the living room and invited him to sit on the couch. The cabin hadn't changed much since Hannibal had been there last; it was still rife with hunting gear and dog beds. Will's bed was positioned at the opposite end of the room, not cordoned off into its own space to give Will a good view of the front door. Will saw this world in terms of his line of sight, what he could and could not directly see. What he could and could not protect himself from. 

Will spared a glance at the opposite wall and suddenly stood back up. "Shit," he said. "Sorry, I was fixing up one of the rifles this morning, and it's still in the bedroom. I'll be right back." He ran his hand along one of the dog's back. "I don't want to leave it out where they might get hurt."

"Of course." 

Will returned with the gun in hand, its barrel pointed down at the ground. He went to the racks near the fireplace but hesitated before he could lift it onto the hook. 

He turned his head to look over his shoulder, a stone-cold glint in his eye. Hannibal's hackles raised as he watched Will stroll to the armchair next to the couch, sitting down and balancing the gun in his lap. 

"You wanted to talk?" Will asked. He rested his right hand on the handle of the gun, ready to strike at a moment's notice. 

Will knew. He knew, and he was prepared. Hannibal kept his face still.

"You were going to sit next to me on the couch, and now you're across from me holding a gun," Hannibal said. "Is there a reason for that?"

Will ran his finger along the barrel. "Have you ever had a moment of clarity in an emergency, Doctor Lecter?"

Hannibal quirked an eyebrow. Cunning. "I want you to understand I truly meant you no harm, Will. I only wanted what was best for you, and I was convinced it was mental illness. That's why it took so long for me to realize--"

"That's not the issue," Will replied. "I don't know if you're telling the truth, or if you knew all along and were just going to let me suffer. Or if this was your plan all along, to stop things just in time so I would be indebted to you. No matter the case, you saved my life. I suppose I should be grateful."

"It was an honest mistake on my part. We all make them."

"If you want me to keep talking to you, then we need to stop with the lies," Will said. "I prefer sins of omission to outright lies." His blue eyes settled on Hannibal's, and his gaze was pure steel. "Don't lie to me."

Hannibal crossed his legs, making himself comfortable. "Will you return the courtesy?"

"It depends on if I think you deserve it." Will sat back as well. His dogs settled at the foot of his chair like hellhounds around the devil. "I've had a lot of time to think, Doctor. A lot of time to consider what's been going on between us."

"What do you believe is going on between us?"

"You've been extremely manipulative. You've used every opportunity to turn my traumas against me, and I don't appreciate that." He shook his head. "Ever since I killed Hobbs. You've been using Abigail against me. You've been using my illness against me. You've been trying to alienate me from my coworkers, my peers. It's an extremely unorthodox psychiatric method."

"I only want what is best for you."

"I'm not sure what's worse: the idea that you're still lying to me, or that you genuinely believe this is what's best." 

"You were very upset at the arrest scene of Devon Silvestri. Ran off before anyone could stop you. Would you like to talk about that?"

Will's facade cracked for a brief moment at the reminder, but he pieced it back together with ease. "I panicked. It was a stressful moment."

"It certainly was."

"Seeing you operate on that patient was impressive. You clearly have a lot of surgical knowledge."

"I worked as a surgeon for nearly two decades."

"Why'd you stop?"

"I killed someone." Will didn't budge. "Or, I let someone die. I had a patient pass away on the table. I transferred my passion for anatomy into the culinary arts." 

"See, Hannibal..." Will chuckled darkly to himself. "That is the last type of thing you want to be saying to me right now. Unless, of course, you want me to know."

"Know what?"

"Don't play dumb with me." Will lowered his brow. "Do you know how many years we've spent studying the Chesapeake Ripper? How much we know about his crimes, his personality, his profile? You thought I wouldn't discover what you've been doing?"

Hannibal considered his next words carefully. "I knew you would discover something," he said, "which is why your disease put me at an advantage."

A flash of anger ran across Will's face, and he raised the rifle. Hannibal closed his eyes, refusing to stare down the barrel of the gun. He was going to embrace his fate with dignity, not look on in wide-eyed fear. 

"I should fucking shoot you right now," Will said. 

"Are you a killer, Will?"

"By definition, yes. Are you?"

Hannibal smirked. "By definition, yes." 

There was a long pause, followed by a rustling noise. Will shoved the cold metal of the barrel against Hannibal's temple, his breathing hard and aggravated. "Tell me why you didn't follow through," he said. "Why didn't you just let the disease kill me? Why not kill me yourself?"

Hannibal opened his eyes, smiling mischievously up at Will. A warm feeling blossomed between his legs. 

"I liked the way you sounded when you were moaning my name."

Will inhaled sharply. An intrigued smile crept up his face with each passing second. 

"I see," he replied. "I see how this is."

"We're at an impasse, then."

"Not particularly. You're a serial killer we've been searching for for years. I just find you really attractive." He shrugged. "I could live with people finding that out about me. You couldn't."

"You have no evidence. Nor do you have reliability. After all, you have been sick almost the entire time you've known me. How can we be sure this isn't a delusion?" Hannibal leaned forward, and Will's grip tightened around the gun. "And I don't think it's just me you find attractive. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you have wonderful things in that little head of yours, and I would love to work them out of you."

"Why should I let you?"

"Because there's plenty in it for you." Hannibal raised his hand with the care of someone calming a feral animal. His finger traced the crotch of Will's jeans, and Will grunted. "I would love to speak to you in more detail about these desires of yours. Whatever made you run off to the bathroom and whimper my name like one of your pups begging for a treat."

"Oh, fuck," Will whispered before he could stop himself. He swallowed. "How do I know you won't kill me?"

"Why would I let such beauty go to waste?" 

"And how do I know you're not manipulating me right now? Using my desires to your advantage?"

"If you'd like me to be honest about it, it is to my advantage," Hannibal said. "It would be worth prison time just to hear you moan once more."

"I can't trust you, Hannibal. Not yet."

"If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have come for you in broad daylight. I would have waited for nightfall and come through the window. Taken one of your precious little organs while you were still alive."

"Christ." Will took a step back. His cock twitched under the fabric of his pants. "You don't think I'm a threat?"

"I think you're an asset. You and I could be something wonderful, don't you agree?"

Being away from Hannibal's touch shocked Will back to his senses. He blinked, gripping the gun with white knuckles. "I- I can't do this, Hannibal. I'm sorry. I don't know what's come over me, but you have to go."

"I'll leave. I'll let you walk me out, so you don't have to worry about me striking when you're not expecting it."

"I'm going to watch your car leave until I can't see it anymore. And I can see far out on this field."

"I'm going home. I have no reason to stay here for now." Hannibal held his hands up. "I'm going to stand up, Will." 

Will guided him to the front door, rifle pushed against his lower back. When they reached Hannibal's car, Hannibal pushed the button on the doorknob to avoid having to get out his keys. Will opened the driver's seat for him. 

"Such a gentleman," Hannibal remarked. 

And then he lunged. 

He spun on his heel and gripped the barrel of the rifle, yanking it upward. Will cried out in shock, but he was smart enough to know how foolish pulling the trigger would have been. With the barrel aiming at the sky, they struggled over the weapon until Hannibal kicked Will in the thigh, using the millisecond of slack to work the rifle into his own hands. His heart rate never increased through the entire maneuver. 

Will stared at him with a mixture of awe and hatred. Hannibal pointed the rifle at him now. 

"I want you to understand this. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead."

Hannibal knelt and set the rifle on the grassy lawn. He climbed into the car and started the engine. 

"Once you get back to work, I would love to see you in therapy again," he said. "I have many ideas as to how our conversations should go."

He shut the door and pulled out of the driveway. The last thing he glimpsed in the rearview mirror was Will standing in his front lawn, the rifle still on the ground.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

"May I ask what changed your mind?"

The air around their therapy sessions had changed now. One of them had made an irreversible decision at some point down the line, yet it was unclear what that decision was or who made it. All they knew was that things were different.

Will pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, creating a barrier between his eyes and the rest of the world. Hannibal suspected he knew why. "No," he said. "You may not."

Hannibal held back a smirk. Even without the direct acknowledgement, he knew what had happened. He'd learned quickly that when Will had an idea planted in his head, it was nearly impossible for him to resist thinking about it. He likely ruminated on their last session for hours at home. He may have even dreamt about it.

"What direction would you like these sessions to go?" Hannibal asked. "I wouldn't like to make you uncomfortable, despite what you think of me."

"You don't know what I think of you," Will sneered back. "You're not as deep inside my head as you think you are."

"Did you dream of me the other night?"

Will twitched, the movement subtle yet unmistakable. He'd struck a nerve.

"Did you dream of me standing over you, controlling you? Did it make you wet?"

"Shut the fuck up," Will snapped. His face was flushed. "You don't know anything."

"I know enough. After all, I heard it from your mouth."

"Hello, Will." Hannibal answered the call with a smile, grogginess instantly erased once he saw who was on the other end. Will could call him at any moment, and he would answer.

"I think I'm willing to try it," Will said in lieu of a greeting. "The hypnosis stuff."

"And you've come to this realization in the middle of the night?"

"I know it's late, sorry. I've just...I've had a lot of time to think." He sounded out of breath.

"I'm not bothered. My attention and time is always open to friends." Hannibal paused. "What changed your mind?"

"Does that matter? I'm wanting to do it. That should be enough for you."

"I would like to know. The reasoning behind it can establish the important difference between consent and pressure."

"I'm consenting. There."

Hannibal had nearly had enough of his attitude. He considered his next move. "Is this something you've spent your waking hours thinking of? Or did it come to you in sleep?" He snapped his fingers loudly next to the phone, the sound echoing in his dark bedroom.

The other end was silent apart from a faint rustle and soft breathing. Hannibal waited for Will to fight back, to yell at him or hang up for trying to take control of him again, but nothing came.

"Are you there, Will?"

"Yes." The word was more of a mumble than the rest of his speech had been.

"Good. Sleep." He snapped again. It was always good to double check. "Tell me why you called me in the middle of the night."

"I had a dream."

"What happened in the dream?"

"I was...you controlled me. I was under your power."

"Like I am controlling you now? Or in a more intense manner?"

"I was...I was a slave. Your slave."

Hannibal's cock tingled, aroused at the thought. "I see. Did you enjoy that, or did it scare you?"

"I came. It...it's all over the bed."

Hannibal smiled. "There's a good boy, Will." It was a bold move, but the whimper on the other end told him that it was a smart one. "How did it feel?"

"Good."

"And you want more of that, don't you? Deep down, you want that?"

"I think so. It felt so good."

"Do you want to wake up right now?"

"No."

"No, you don't. Being under my control feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"Good, Will. I'll give you a little gift. When I tell you to, you're going to hang up the phone and touch yourself. Only for a minute, don't come. You've already had enough of that tonight. Think of me controlling you when you touch yourself. Then, you're going to go back to sleep, and when you wake in the morning you will not remember anything about this phone call. You will remember you called me, but that is it. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, tell me one last thing, Will. Do you want to know that you're a slave? Do you want to be aware of it in the waking world?"

Will paused. "No. No, I want to have no idea."

"Perfect. There's a good boy. Now, go do what I told you to do, understand?"

"Yes."

"Good boy."

Will hung up. He wasn't the only one touching himself before he fell back asleep.

Now, Will scoffed, brow lowering. "What are you talking about?"

"The other day," Hannibal replied, saving himself the trouble of having Will remember that phone call. He would be extremely angry, and that wasn't an ideal mental state for hypnosis. "You told me the idea arouses you. We often dream of the things that arouse us, and it can excite us into completion. I'm merely guessing."

"I'm not doing this because it arouses me. That's just an unfortunate side effect." He sighed. "I'm doing this because you're promising me something that I want in return. You're promising self-awareness. A way for me to discover who I am."

"You fear not knowing who you are." It was a sentiment expressed in one of their sessions long ago, when Will was still sick. He figured it still reigned true now.

"I feel much more in tune with myself now than I ever have, Doctor Lecter." Will tilted his head. "But that doesn't mean I've reached self-actualization. Not in the way you have. I need a little push to discover who Will Graham is. And this is what you suggested."

"The thing about hypnosis is that it's not complete mental or behavioral control. If I hypnotized you and told you to jump off this building, you wouldn't go searching for the stairs. You are still under the reins of your own consciousness. You won't do anything that you were not already willing to do."

"I know that."

"Right, but you still seem confused as to why this is the best option." Hannibal crossed his legs. "It seems obvious to turn to something tamer. Workbooks and meditation and going for a walk. Not that those aren't completely valid methods of self-discovery." He noted the way that Will rolled his eyes and allowed himself a small smirk. "No, your self-discovery is locked behind much stronger barriers than most of us. Remember your mental forts?"

"Of course."

"You've effectively blocked yourself off, as well. It's unfortunate, but that doesn't mean they can't be knocked down," Hannibal said. "In this conscious state, you are going to be hesitant to peek into those forts, to admit things about yourself that could be compromising. You are in denial about who Will Graham really is."

"So you think the best way to do it is to erase my reservations."

"Yes. You'll start to come to terms with yourself with much less judgment. That's what hypnosis is: a relinquishing of barriers. An establishment of trust." He paused. "Do you trust me, Will?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Then why trust me with this?"

"Because we're establishing a different kind of fort." Will stood, his hands in his pockets with nonchalance. He was the one in power here, and Hannibal knew it. He was the one who could decide the fate of their relationship, who could turn straight to the FBI and try to plead his case. He had all the evidence against Hannibal; all he had to do was make a convincing argument.

On the other hand, he'd expressed himself that he didn't want to see Hannibal ensnared. It was a step in the right direction.

"No drugs," Will continued, lifting a finger for each point he brought up, "no light therapy, no needles or sedatives or anything like that. No metronome. No psychic driving to make me believe something that isn't true. Let me do the talking. And you're going to film every second of it. If something conveniently goes wrong with the camera or the tape, and any part is missing, I'm never coming back here again. Got that?"

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to provide that in writing?"

"I know you remember it, Doctor. You've got lots of things in that head of yours." Will nodded toward the desk. "Where's your camera?"

"In my bag." Hannibal stood, heading for his chair and rifling through his bag. He pulled out a digital video camera and fumbled with the settings, placing it on the desk between the two of them. The lights in the room were already dim enough, just the right ambiance for what they were about to do.

Will checked the camera before he sat back down to make sure it was rolling. Hannibal tried not to take offense - it was going to be difficult for Will to find any sort of trust in him again after everything he did. Once he was satisfied with the setup, he sank back into his chair, giving Hannibal an expectant stare.

"So," he said, "how's this going to go?"

"I won't do this immediately," Hannibal replied. "I want to sort of set the stage first, so you know what we're getting into."

"I thought we did that already."

"Better safe than sorry. And this will be more specific."

Hannibal could tell Will was holding back an eye roll. He couldn't wait to put that attitude in its place.

"The strange thing about hypnosis is that everyone experiences it differently," he said gently. "You and I have different imaginations, unfortunately, so I can't paint a concrete picture in your head. If I asked you if you were feeling heavy, you could imagine it multiple ways. You could imagine that your muscles are getting heavier, or it could be as extreme as your entire body becoming a lead weight."

"The experience is subjective. That's why some people just can't be hypnotized."

"Yes and no. The experience is indeed subjective, but everyone is susceptible to hypnosis. Anyone who has ever been engrossed in a conversation, a task, even a book or movie, has been hypnotized. I would argue that you are hypnotizing yourself every time you take on the identity of a killer at a crime scene.

"What matters is your attention. You could pay attention to the way the chair feels against your limbs, or you could pay attention to your breathing. Or both, or neither. It's up to you, as long as you are listening and paying attention. There is no pressure. There is no force when it comes to this."

Will studied him. Hannibal took deep breaths, and Will's chest rose and fell in an unconscious mirroring of his actions.

"Even if I told you to relax, that could mean many different things for you. It could mean your eyelids getting heavier, it could mean your muscles sinking into the chair, anything. The same goes for my voice. When you listen, you could be experiencing a lot of different things. You could be getting warmer, heavier. You could be following along with my every word, or you could have no thoughts at all, just staring blankly. We have no idea how this will affect you."

Will's posture was slowly becoming more slack, yet he didn't seem to notice. Hannibal kept a straight face.

"Even if you don't say a single word, you will still be communicating with me, so there's no need to worry about speaking. Just do your best to listen to me. Follow along with me like it's the most normal thing in the world."

"...Okay." Will didn't tear his gaze away. His eyes held a new vacancy.

"You're doing a beautiful job listening to me now. Let's keep that up when I actually hypnotize you." Hannibal leaned forward. "Because right now, I'm not doing anything. This is just a conversation. And I'm sorry to bore you with the logistics." His lips turned up in a self-satisfied smirk. "You look like you could just drop into sleep right there in that chair."

He snapped his fingers with each trigger, and Will slumped forward. His shoulders fell, head lolling on his neck like a rag doll needing support. That level of trance, that instant conversion into a sleepy, malleable subject, wouldn't have been possible without the conditioning he'd done while Will was sick. Hannibal made an effort in his mind to thank his past self for his efforts.

"Right, Will, just like that," Hannibal soothed him. "Closing your eyes and relaxing, nice and deep. It's that beautiful place between wakefulness and sleep, where you can enjoy the nice comfortable sound of my voice and the heaviness of your limbs. Imagine yourself in trance, open and susceptible. Imagine your mind being open to everything I say, and understand that this has already happened. It's happening right now.

"Sleep," Hannibal snapped his fingers, "and feel yourself drifting so far down that you can no longer think. Your thoughts, your reservations, are fading into the darkness. All you want to do now is listen. A blissful forgetfulness. You're confused, but that doesn't faze you. You're calm." He gazed at Will with a hunger in his eyes. "Tell me how it feels, Will."

"...Good," Will slurred, still not lifting his head. "It's good."

"Yes, I know. It's very nice, isn't it?"

"Yes." Will's hips twitched. He inhaled sharply, body jerking before settling back down.

"What was that for, Will? Are my words arousing you?"

"Yes."

"That's good, that's good. No shame in that. We expected this would happen." Hannibal glanced toward the camera, brow furrowing. He had a plan, but the awake version of Will certainly wouldn't like it. He would have to get consent in the clearest way possible. "Now, pleasure can be a very good trance amplifier. Particularly sexual pleasure. Orgasm can release many types of hormones that make someone feel sleepy and euphoric. We could find a way to kill two birds with one stone, in a sense. Make this trance better for you while also learning more about how you think."

He gave the camera one more glance before turning back to Will, enunciating clearly so Will could understand when he looked back at the tape later. "You are aware that hypnosis is not mind control. I cannot make you do anything you do not already want to do. If I were to give you a suggestion that you didn't want to carry out, you simply would not do it. Right?"

"Yes."

"Good, Will. Now, I am going to suggest something to you. If you don't wish to do it, just tell me, and we will move on. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. I suggest that every time I say something that arouses you, every time a sentence leaves my mouth that makes you sexually aroused, you are going to pull down a layer of clothing. One sentence, your belt. Another, your pants. Another, your underwear. Then, once all of those are gone, after the next sentence you will start touching yourself. Start slowly at first, and with each sentence you will pick up the pace. You are allowed to come if the need arises. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to do that?"

"Please." Another twitch of the hips. Hannibal smiled.

"Good. If the moment arises that you no longer feel comfortable under my control, you will immediately stop. If you have taken off your pants and you no longer want to take any more layers off, you will tell me, and we will stop. You are in as much control as I am over this situation. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what you want to do."

"I...I want to touch myself. Touch myself," Will whined. His words blended together, his head still lolling forward.

"That's a good boy, Will. Let's begin that suggestion then, yes?"

"Please."

"Now, I would like to talk about the arrest of Devon Silvestri. After all, that's where this entire thing started." Hannibal folded his hands. "You ran off after seeing me perform that emergency transplant. You masturbated in the hospital bathroom, is that right?"

"Yes."

"I will admit, I intruded on your privacy. I only wanted to check on you, but I heard you moaning my name and couldn't resist listening."

"I know." Will's hands fumbled for his waist, and he slid his belt away from the loops of his pants. He set it on the ground. When Hannibal caught a glimpse of his eyes, they were glazed. Empty.

"What made you do that, Will? In the hospital?"

"The...the blood. The way you looked at me."

The blood. Hannibal would have to touch on that later. "I see. Did it make you feel small? Like I was exerting dominance over you?"

"What you're capable of," Will said. "I like that."

"You seem convinced that I am the Chesapeake Ripper. Is that what you're referring to? You believe I am capable of such actions?"

"I imagined it. I liked it."

"Seeing me perform that surgery, you imagined that I was the Chesapeake Ripper?"

"Pieces fitting into place," Will replied. "You had all the signs. I was imagining what else you were capable of, and then...you looked at me. Like that."

"You like the idea of me being the Chesapeake Ripper?"

"I...I shouldn't."

"Remember, Will, this is not a conversation of morals. This is emotion. There is nothing to be ashamed of, not in a private place such as this."

"I do like it."

"Why do you like it? What do I have differently that any other suspect would not? Would you feel the same way about anyone else who was potentially the Ripper?"

"You...you're brilliant. You're powerful. You find...art in it."

"You like the possibility of me committing a crime while no one suspects a thing?"

"You're not...reckless with it. You aren't emotional or messy."

"I perform my work with delicate precision. I have spent a long time building my life here, Will. I've learned from my mistakes in past lives."

"You've killed in other places?"

Hannibal couldn't have his response on camera. To do so would be too incriminating. The existence of the tape itself already had him on thin ice, but he wouldn't be so foolish as to outright admit to his crimes in Florence.

"That's not the matter we're discussing right now," he said, leaning in to prop Will's head up against the back of the chair. When he was closest to Will's ear, he whispered as softly as he could, "yes."

The reaction was instantaneous. Will shifted, unzipping his pants and pushing them down to his knees. Hannibal could make out the outline of his hard cock against his underwear, and his mouth watered. He knelt on the floor to be close to it.

"You enjoy the fantasy of me committing these crimes because it is an extreme version of me being in control. If I were the Ripper, I would control this entire side of the country. I would control the FBI's actions, civilians' actions...yours. Do you like the idea of me controlling you, Will?"

"Yes."

"That is the crux of your dreams, is it not?"

"It is." There was a slight clarity returning to his eyes, a normal side effect of being in trance for a long while and exhibiting this much movement. Something had to be done.

"Good. Sleep, Will." With a snap, he was back down. His head sagged, but it didn't entirely slump forward; Hannibal was able to witness the way his eyelids fluttered in a half-asleep drunken state. Will's cock twitched in his boxers.

Hannibal couldn't wait any longer.

"I control your mind, Will. I control your arousal. You belong to me." Three sentences. If Will took the suggestion literally, he would begin to stroke now, even speeding up a little bit.

Will did just that. He pushed down his boxers and wrapped his hand around his erect cock, a moan slipping from his lips. Hannibal couldn't tear his eyes away - he was the one hypnotized now, entranced by Will's beautiful cock. He was massive. Even bigger than Hannibal could have imagined.

"Good boy. That's a very good boy."

Will sped up even more. He squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering in pleasure.

"Do you masturbate to the memory of murdering Garrett Jacob Hobbs?"

"Almost every night," he panted.

Yes. Oh, yes. Hannibal's own cock was hardening now.

"Perfect. What a perfect subject you are." You're not going to come until I tell you to. Just keep stroking that lovely cock of yours, feeling really good. Feeling wonderful, feeling your brain melt away with every moment of pleasure. Each stroke makes you feel more susceptible to my control."

He sped up. His cock was wet, and his face was covered in a sheen of sweat.

"I'm going to give you some more triggers, Will. Are you ready for that?"

"Yes," Will moaned.

"It doesn't matter whether you're in trance or out of trance, whether you're completely aware or fast asleep. If I end a sentence, a command, with the words 'do you understand,' you will automatically follow and obey. No questions asked. No resistance. It is an automatic obedience trigger. You aren't sure why, you just know that those words compel you to obey. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Secondly, when you wake from this trance, you will not remember what has just happened. You will only know that at some point, you began masturbating of your own free will, without my order. It's so embarrassing, isn't it? How you just began to touch yourself in front of me without any prompting? We were only having a normal conversation, Will."

Will's brows drew together. He was clearly in agony, constantly on the verge of coming.

"You will not want to watch this tape. You're too embarrassed. You don't want to see yourself like that. You'll avoid watching it like the plague. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. You've done a very nice job." Hannibal finally stood, raising his hand to snap. "With every drop that spills out of you, you're going to feel more of your thoughts drain away. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Come."

Will threw his head back and cried out in ecstasy. Thick cum spilled from the tip of his cock, which twitched as Will kept stroking it. It spilled onto his hands, his thighs, and Hannibal watched with a sudden voracious hunger.

"Come. Thoughts draining for me." He snapped again. Will's eyes fluttered, and his cries turned into overwhelmed whimpers. His entire body lurched with pleasure.

"Drop into trance. Drop. Sleep." The orgasmic pleasure combined with a set of triggers sent Will down deeper than before, and once all of the cum had seeped from his cock, he collapsed against the chair and sank into slumber. Hannibal nodded.

"Give me your hand."

Will held it out. His fingers were covered in white cum. Hannibal took Will's wrist and brought his fingers to his mouth, licking up the substance. Will tasted of salt and sweat. He was magnificent.

"Now," he said, licking his lips, "remind me of your triggers."

"Don't...remember trance. Don't watch tape. Embarrassing." Hannibal had to lean in to hear his soft, slurred speech.

"Good."

"And...obey. When you say those words."

"Very good. I'm going to wake you now, Will. All of these triggers we've started? Those will stick with you. We will use them again in the future. Pull up your underwear and pants. Leave the belt for now."

Will did. Hannibal migrated back to his chair, sitting as he was before. "I'm going to count up, and imagine your thoughts slowly returning to you with each number. You're regaining awareness. You'll be the same old Will again, with just a few more triggers than before. Not that you'll remember them. But your unconscious mind will."

Will let out a small moan, residual pleasure coursing through him. If only Hannibal could keep him this way forever.

"One. Your thoughts are muddy, but you can see them in the distance. You can nearly grasp them. Two. They're getting closer now. Three. Grab onto them. Grab onto your awareness. You're becoming more and more like yourself, just a little sleepy."

Will shifted in his chair. He raised his head, but his eyes were still closed.

"Four. That drowsiness is fading. You're coming into the light now. And you're going to fully embrace that wakefulness as I reach five," Hannibal snapped, "and you're awake. You're waking in a pleasant room. Calm and relaxed. No longer in trance."

He repeated the affirmations a few more times as Will surfaced, blinking rapidly and lifting his head. He floated in a calm state of drowsiness for a moment before his hand traveled idly down to his waist, and the memory of what he'd just done hit him like a bullet. He sat straight up, looking down at the floor and swiping up his belt, hands shaking.

"Fuck. Jesus fucking Christ." His face was bright red. "I can't— I didn't even know you were doing it yet. When did you do that?"

"I used a covert induction. It's meant to erase a lot of the discomfort that comes with being coached into trance. If you don't like it—"

"Hannibal. You saw what I just did. You're going to act like that didn't happen?" He asked, panic in his voice. "What the hell just happened?"

Hannibal sighed, feigning a sense of awkwardness. He leaned back in his chair. "I was coaching you through trance, asking you some basic questions about the night Devon Silvestri was arrested. You began to strip. I asked what you were doing, and you said the memory was arousing you. I asked if you were uncomfortable, and you said no. You wanted to masturbate."

"And you didn't stop me?!" Will's eyes brimmed with tears, an unexpected sight. "God, what's wrong with me? I feel so fucked up."

Hannibal softened a bit, standing once more. "Will. It's alright," he soothed, approaching Will's chair like one would a wild animal. "Coming out of trance is often an uncomfortable experience. You can sail through a lot of emotions. I'm sorry this is happening."

"God, this is humiliating. This is so, so humiliating." He buried his face in his hands. "Why didn't you stop me?"

"I tried. You wanted to keep going."

"I thought I had to obey you." He wiped his cheeks.

"Not necessarily. You only obey the commands that you want to obey." He went over to his desk, grabbing a bottle of water from his supply underneath. He twisted the cap open and handed it to Will, who took it with a mumbled "thanks" and drained half of it. "You didn't want to obey my commands to stop."

"How do I know you're not lying? That you're not just telling me a story to make yourself look better?"

"That's why we have the tape, yes?" Hannibal nodded toward the camera. "I haven't stopped it yet. Would you like to watch it? Or I can send it to you to watch alone?"

"I..." Will trailed off, staring at the camera on the desk. "No. No, I don't want to watch it."

Yes. A perfect, obedient subject. Will would have no idea that this idea was Hannibal's suggestion all along.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. "You don't?"

"I can't see myself like that. Not yet. This is the worst." He bit his lip. "I'm really sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. If I were unwilling to deal with that, I would have woken you immediately," Hannibal replied. He took the camera from the top of the desk, stopping the recording and saving it. "I'll keep it on file in case you change your mind. I hate that this was a negative experience for you, Will. I really do apologize." He put a hand on Will's shoulder, and Will flinched. "We won't do this again."

"Well, no." Will looked up at him. "I didn't say that. It was clearly a positive experience." He shrugged. "I just lost all of my dignity."

"I did earn some very useful information."

"That's good. Tell me about it."

Interesting that he wanted to know. It was as if Will was both ashamed of and utterly intrigued by his inner thoughts. "...You admitted that the memory of murdering Garrett Jacob Hobbs was very arousing. You have touched yourself to the thought."

"Fuck." Will shook his head. "I wanted to take that to the grave."

"Don't worry. You're still under confidentiality. I shall take it to mine."

Will stared at him for a moment before cracking a small smile. "...Thanks."

"We spoke a lot of sexual pleasure, obviously. You admitted to being aroused at the sight of blood?"

"...Yeah. It's not as big as some other things, but yes."

"Do you see how this works now? How being under hypnosis can allow you to admit to things you wouldn't in a wakeful state? Do things you would ordinarily be very reserved about?"

"No shit." Will took another sip of water. "Did I make you uncomfortable? With all that?"

"I do not think anything makes me uncomfortable anymore."

"So you wouldn't be opposed to doing it again?"

"Would you?"

"I'm not really sure."

That was no good. Hannibal crafted the next sentence very carefully. He had to structure the suggestion, then the trigger. They had to be in a specific order.

"As for you...I can see that you've had a very negative experience with this. But, if you want to do it again, do you understand...I'll welcome you with open arms."

Will's eyes glazed over at the trigger, but he quickly blinked it away. "Yes," he said, "and I think I want to do it again. But we have to be a little more careful. You can't let me do that again."

"Of course." Hannibal nodded. "I'll use a different induction. We'll take it slower. Perhaps a more shallow trance."

He was already forming new ideas.

Chapter Text

Hannibal couldn't keep his mind off that beautiful cock all week.

He did everything he could to relive the moment in his office; he re-watched the tape multiple times, but nothing was going to compare to the real thing. Nothing was going to be as good as watching Will drop right in front of him, obeying like a perfect subject.

He didn't speak much to Will during the time between sessions. They didn't stumble upon each other during working hours, and there were no more late-night phone calls from Will. If he was having more sexual dreams, he wasn't calling Hannibal about them. Hannibal would have to do something about that next time.

He told himself that Will was his toy to play with, but it was more likely to be the other way around. Hannibal knew he was wrapped around Will's finger, that Will consumed his every waking thought. His mood depended on how recently he'd jerked off to the image of Will's cock. He was completely taken, but he didn't mind.

Will wanted to be a slave, after all. He wanted to give up all of his power. He'd admitted to it himself. And even better, he wanted to have no idea it was happening.

That's what he'd said before, at least. Hannibal figured it would be a smart idea to ask the same question every time Will entered trance. There was always the potential that Will would change his mind one day, and then all the fun would be lost. There was no sense in making Will a slave when he didn't want to be. There wasn't a stronger turn-off than having his partner be fearful of him.

Every trance, he decided, would be spearheaded by the same group of questions. Do you want to be under my control? Do you want to be a slave? Do you want to know that you're a slave?

As long as Will gave the same answers - yes; yes; no, I want to have no idea - Hannibal would consider that to be free reign over Will's mind.

He waited eagerly for the next session, forming hundreds of ideas in his head for how he wanted things to go. He wasn't going to be as bold as last time; Will had already been through enough humiliation. No, he was striving for information this time - enough information that Will would see their efforts were worth it. This hypnosis wouldn't be useless, and he would want to keep going.

He could always implant some fun triggers, as well. No one said he couldn't get some benefit from this, as well.

It took a Sisyphean amount of effort for Hannibal to not stare at Will's groin as he settled into his chair. There was a slight awkwardness to the way Will sat, his back unnaturally straight and his legs crossed as if to prevent himself from losing control again.

"How have you been feeling?" Hannibal asked. "How has your perspective changed since last week?"

"I'm embarrassed, obviously. I don't think that's going away anytime soon."

"That's alright. If you'd like, I can erase some of that embarrassment in this next trance. It would be very easy."

"That won't be necessary." Will's upper lip curled. "I refuse to toy with anything unnecessary."

If only you knew. Hannibal nodded. "What do you wish to achieve this session?"

"I want more information. I want answers to some questions. Answers that aren't lies."

"I'm going to start by asking some questions that pertain to the last time. We'll compare the answers you give now to the ones you give in trance. I'll write them down both times." Hannibal stood, grabbing his notebook and pen from the top of his desk. "Does that sound okay?"

"Do you think the answers will be significantly different?"

"One can never know for sure. In the worst scenario, we waste about fifteen minutes."

"Or I start jacking off again," Will scoffed.

"I'm not going to let that happen again. This trance is going to be very light, don't worry." The statement was only half-true, but Will didn't have to know that. "For now, we'll talk more about what you said last time." He poised the pen over the paper, ready to copy Will's answers. "Ready?"

"These are going to be embarrassing questions, I presume."

"I'm not embarrassed. There's no reason for you to be, either."

"...Alright."

Hannibal smiled. "Perfect. Now, while you were under trance last week, you spoke about masturbating to the memory of murdering Garrett Jacob Hobbs. You told me it happened almost every night. Do you know why? What is it about that memory that excites you?"

"God. Starting off strong, aren't we?" Will's face flushed. "I don't know. I guess it was the power aspect. I told you the other day that I was into blood. That might be part of it."

He wasn't going to get much else out of Will without risking him snapping. He set the quandary aside for now. "You also told me that the main reason you went into the hospital bathroom and pleasured yourself was because you were imagining me as the Chesapeake Ripper. You were aroused by the idea of me having that much power. Do you believe that is the case?"

"I...no. No, I don't. I think that I was just turned on by the way you were looking at me. You had this really intense look in your eyes, and I already had a thing for you, and I was sick and stressed. It all led to an unfortunate explosion."

"So it had nothing to do with your suspicions of me being the Chesapeake Ripper?"

"No."

Hannibal wrote this down, betraying no emotion on his face. Will was still completely hiding from the truth. "So do you believe that what you said under hypnosis was a lie?"

"I was in a strange position. I started masturbating in the middle of trance, for God's sake. My brain was just making shit up, I'm sure."

"You told me you were especially drawn to the idea of me controlling your mind. Your arousal."

"I mean, yeah. Hypnosis arouses me. I can't help that. It would be the same for anyone else doing that to me."

"Okay." Hannibal finished writing. "Thank you for telling me the truth to the best of your ability. Now, my goal is to find out how these answers may differ when you are in trance."

"Nothing without the camera."

"Of course." Hannibal stood, setting the camera up in its usual spot on the desk and making sure their chairs were both in frame. Once the recording started, he took a seat.

"Last time, I used a covert induction, and you seemed unhappy with the results."

"It's not that I was unhappy. I was just...surprised. I had no idea you were doing it."

"Well, the unfortunate part about covert inductions is that once it's done one time, it's difficult to get someone to fall for it again. You know what to watch out for now."

"You really caught me off guard."

"That was the intention. But now, we'll have to do something more traditional. It may be a little more cliche, but I think we can make it through. Just try not to let yourself get distracted."

"Okay."

"Try to listen and follow along as I speak. And make sure to release the tension that is currently in your body. Let your shoulders fall. Let the muscles in your face slacken. Breathe in and out, and let your body slow down." He mirrored the style of breathing he expected Will to carry out, and he did.

"Up and down, in and out of trance as we speak. I'm going to do something called fractionation, which is just a way for me to take you in and out of a light trance. The more you sink up, the deeper you will float down." Hannibal watched Wills brow furrow at the confusing statement, but he didn't elaborate any further. "You'll find that with every wake down deeper and drop up into awareness, you're going to find it easier and easier to wake up and drift back down. Sinking into floating deeper. Do you understand?"

"I...I think so." Will didn't question it, which was the best possible scenario. The less he was thinking about it, the better.

Hannibal continued in this way, crafting sentences that were meaningfully perplexing. He assigned opposite words to scenarios and spoke with just the right speed: not too fast, as then Will wouldn't pick up on any of it. Just fast enough that Will's brain would rush to comprehend the information and, by the time he could just get his mind around one sentence, the next would already be finished.

It seemed to be tiring Will out. He watched Hannibal with a focused gaze, brows drawing together. He blinked more and more, as if his eyes were getting heavier.

"Now, Will, what if all of this made sense?" Hannibal asked. "What if it all made sense and you could sleep for me? Wouldn't it feel so nice to just sleep?"

Will fell deep. His eyes sank closed, and he let out a rough exhale as if this was what he'd been waiting for all along. It was relief. A fulfillment of expectation.

"Good, Will. Good. You're going to sleep. You're going to sink." Hannibal snapped with each trigger. "You're doing an excellent job. This is a light trance, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"You're going to keep believing that, do you understand? No matter how deep your mind will actually go, you are going to believe this is a light trance. You trust me to be honest with you, yes?"

"Yes."

"Good. Knowing that this is only a light trance, you're going to fall even deeper. Sink. Sleep. Drop."

Will let out a tiny moan, and Hannibal had to stop himself from coming undone. "Good, Will. Good job. Now, I have a few questions for you. You're going to answer them honestly."

"Yes."

"Good. Will, why do you masturbate to the memory of killing Garrett Jacob Hobbs?"

"Blood. Power," Will slurred. "I had power over his life. I was defying nature. I controlled everything. And I got away with it."

"You enjoy the feeling of getting away with murder?"

"There's a...a thrill. You've felt it, too."

Hannibal wouldn't confirm or deny that. "Is that why you enjoy the idea of me being the Chesapeake Ripper so much? Why you pleasured yourself to that very idea in the hospital?"

"You hold the world under your thumb. You controlled whether or not that man in the ambulance lived. You control who dies. And you eat them because they are nothing to you." Will's hips twitched. "And you looked at me, and we both saw who the other was. I imagined so many things."

"What did you imagine?"

"Your blood on my hands. My blood on your hands. Someone else's blood on both of our hands. In our teeth."

"So your fantasies surrounded me being the Chesapeake Ripper? And you enjoyed the idea of us partaking in that truth together?"

"Yes. We'd be like God, you and I together."

Beautiful. Oh, so beautiful. "Do you enjoy the idea of me controlling your mind, Will?"

"Yes."

"Do you enjoy the idea of me controlling your arousal?"

"Yes." Another twitch.

Hannibal nodded. "Thank you for answering my questions, Will. It's time to wake you now."

It was a lie. He paused for a moment, creating a space where he could potentially edit some footage together. "I believe you should be rewarded for your honesty. Do you want to remain under my control, Will?"

"Yes."

"Good. From this very moment on, Will, you are not going to remember this part of the trance. You are going to believe that after you answered the question about your arousal, you woke. Anything that happens from this moment on, you will not remember upon waking. Do you understand?"

Will nodded. "Yes."

"Good. Do you want to be a slave to me, Will?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation. Will's brain was still yearning for his power.

"Do you want to know you're a slave? Or would you rather me keep it a secret from you for as long as possible?"

"Secret."

"Good." Hannibal smirked. "We're going to keep working on that today. Would you like that?"

"Yes."

"That's very good. I have a lot of nice things planned for you." Hannibal stood and stopped the camera from recording, careful not to move it a single centimeter. He needed the editing to be seamless. "First of all, we need to do something about your manners. You are not speaking to a superior the way you should."

He walked over to Will, placing his hand on the other man's thigh.

"What's my name?" He asked Will.

"Hannibal."

"That's true, but I am your superior. How should you be referring to me?"

Will hesitated. "Doctor Lecter."

"Good boy. Sleep." After snapping, Hannibal ran his hand along the front of Will's jeans, lightly stroking him. Will inhaled sharply at the touch. "You're going to refer to me as such when I give you an order or ask you a question. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Good boy. Just like that." Hannibal stroked him again. "You're a good learner. Now, I told you some things before I dropped you into trance. I told you that this was going to be a light trance, and that I wasn't going to let you start masturbating again like last time. And, Will, I am a man who keeps my promises." He caressed Will's cheek. Will's eyelids fluttered. "After all, I was right, yes? This is only a light trance, isn't it?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"My talented Will." Hannibal toyed with Will's belt buckle. "So good for me. And what do we say to a superior when they reward you?"

Will's mouth turned up in a dumb smile. "Thank you, Doctor Lecter."

"Good boy." He drew the words out long and slow, then tugged Will's shirt out of his waistband. It would be coming off. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about your cock ever since I last saw it. Why don't you pull it out for me?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." Will obeyed instantly, sliding off his belt and shimmying his hips out of his pants and underwear. Will was hard already, and he sighed with relief as he pulled it out. Hannibal licked his lips.

"Thank you, Will. You're so hard for me. I love it."

"Yes, sir—yes...Doctor Lecter." Will grunted, hips twitching. Hannibal quirked an eyebrow. Will always had something new hidden inside him. It surprised Hannibal every time.

"You may call me sir, if you wish. You may call me any title you wish, so long as you're addressing me as a superior."

"Thank you, Doctor Lecter."

"Now, Will, as we go about our trance today, you are welcome to tell me at any point that you're uncomfortable or that you don't wish to do something. Whether it's right after a command, or while you're in the middle of obeying, you're allowed to tell me you're uncomfortable and that you wish to stop. This safety bypasses any obedience trigger I've given you. It is the strongest of all of them. I will stop right away if you tell me to, do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Good." He had no desire to overpower Will in that sense, both out of morality and his own selfish enjoyments. The fun came from Will's submission, from his willingness to hand over his own mind on a platter. He'd have no fun violating him. Hannibal also found any sort of sexual assault detestable—worth killing over, even—and he refused to even risk partaking in it. "There is no one scheduled after your slot. No one else is in this building. We shall not be interrupted." He stared at Will's cock. "Would you like to strip the rest of your clothes for me, Will?"

"I..." Will hesitated, his hands hovering over the buttons of his shirt. "I don't...no, I don't."

"Alright, alright. That's perfectly fine. Thank you for being honest with me. Do you still want to continue the session with your cock out?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then let's make sure you're still deeply asleep for me." Will slackened, but his cock remained hard. "Good boy, Will. Always so good. It almost hurts me to have to put you through this." Hannibal shook his head. "But I told you I would ensure you didn't masturbate during another session, and I'm going to keep that promise."

His gaze on Will hardened. "From this moment on, you are physically unable to touch your cock or come without permission from me. If you try, your hands simply won't cooperate, and if, somehow, your hands do reach your cock, it won't feel like anything. No matter how hard or horny you get, coming will be impossible without my blessing. You need express permission from me to touch your cock or come, do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Now, it won't be a lot of fun. There will be times when you are desperately wishing to touch yourself, but you won't be able to. Because what do you need?"

"Permission."

"Perfect. Yes." There was not a great way to solidify the conditioning for now, so it would have to remain weak. They'd wait until their relationship was much more intense to really strengthen the connection in his mind. Hannibal's mind went to shock treatment, but he wasn't sure how Will would feel about that. He put it away for later. "Even if it's late at night, and you need to touch, you'll have to get that permission from me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"There's a good slave. But of course, it won't be as simple as asking me. You're not aware of just how deep you are under my control. Instead, this is what will happen: when you feel the need to touch, your thoughts will instantly shift to sucking my cock. You won't be able to shake the thought of it from your head. You will be completely infatuated with the idea of pleasuring me. When that happens, you will have no choice but to call me and tell me about the thoughts you're having. From there, I'll give you permission to touch. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"You're such a good, obedient slave for me." Hannibal smiled. "I ought to give you your reward now." He knelt on the ground, lightly running his fingers across the base of Will's cock. Will whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm going to show you how a good boy sucks cock. You're going to learn from this. Any time you touch yourself, you won't be able to stop thinking about pleasuring your superior. That's all you wish to do, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir, yes, Doctor Lecter. Yes, Doctor Lecter." Will nodded eagerly. "Please."

"Good slave. You may come whenever you'd like." Hannibal hovered over Will's cock, wetting his lips. When he closed his mouth around Will, it was as if the universe had finally righted itself. Every piece was in the correct place. He was delicious. His tongue traveled around Will's skin, tasting him, and he moved his head up and down to let the tip of Will's cock bob against the back of his throat.

Will moaned, his body tensing. "Oh...yes, Doctor Lecter. Thank you, sir. Thank you."

Hannibal swallowed around Will before grazing the head with the tip of his tongue. Will gripped the arms of his chair, whining in pleasure. He was such a beautiful creature, both sober and while reduced to a brainless animal. Hannibal needed to keep him in a cage, to witness those blue eyes glaze over under his command. He needed to brand Will with his name, to bite him until he bled, to keep his cock under lock and key, to own him. But no—he only wanted that if Will did. What Will wanted was paramount.

It wasn't long before Will came, and Hannibal savored the taste before swallowing him. He hoped that part of Will's heat would forever remain in the lining of his stomach. When he pulled away, Will was panting, and he had a brainless smile on his face.

"Good boy," Hannibal praised him. "You've done--"

A loud ring echoed through the office, startling both of the men. Will's body jerked, his eyes squeezing shut, and he shook his head. He blinked hard, awareness returning to his gaze, and when Hannibal raised his hand to snap, Will lunged forward to seize Hannibal's fingers in his grip.

"You're sick," Will slurred, still in the middle of waking. "You're fucking sick."

The ringing continued. Hannibal reached for the side table next to Will's chair, gripping Will's cell phone. It vibrated in his hand, and he looked at the screen.

"It's Jack," he said, showing the screen to Will. "But I don't think you're in the right state to answer."

He considered putting the phone on silent, but Will made a small noise of objection. "It could be an emergency," he said.

Hannibal smirked, swiping his thumb across the screen and answering the call to Will's utter shock. 

"Hello, Jack," he greeted, standing up as Will swiped for the phone. He walked to the other end of the room, smiling as he watched Will fumble with his pants and belt in order to chase after him. "Will and I are in the middle of a session right now, and he isn't in the right state to take a call now. He's in trance, half asleep." He snapped his fingers, and Will flinched. His sharp gaze grew foggy. Hannibal watched him try to fight it, amused at the futility of it all.

"Sit down, Will," Hannibal said, holding the phone slightly away from his face. "I'll take care of this. It's alright."

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." Will obeyed. His voice was quiet enough for it not to reach Jack, which Hannibal was grateful for.

"Doctor Lecter," Jack said from the other end, surprise in his voice. "I...trance?"

"We've resorted to light hypnosis to calm his anxious state of mind. That's all I'll say, for confidentiality purposes. Is this an emergency?"

Will leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. His cock was still erect in his half-removed pants. 

"It's as much of an emergency as we can get. Tell him I need him to look at a scene for me."

"When?"

"First thing tomorrow morning. Gotta get to Delaware. He can meet me in Quantico, since that's closer for him. Oh-eight-hundred hours. If that doesn't work for him, he can call me later."

"I'll let him know. I'm sorry he couldn't come to the phone."

"Hope everything's okay."

The call ended, and Hannibal lowered the phone. He kept his gaze fixed on Will, waiting to see what he would do. 

"I wasn't even fully asleep," Will finally said after a pregnant pause, "and I just automatically did what you said. 'Oh, yes, Doctor Lecter.'" He scoffed. "You're fucking crazy."

"Will-"

Will stood to pull up his pants, erection fading, and fastened his belt. He held out his hand. 

"My phone," he commanded. 

Hannibal obliged. He had no other purpose with it. 

"And you're going to give me that fucking camera. Are all the recordings on there?"

"Yes, and I have all the recordings apart from today's uploaded on my computer. If you'd prefer to look at them that way. The screen is small-"

"I don't care. Can I see the recordings on there?"

"Apart from today's."

"I thought you said that was just for your computer."

"I did not record today's session." Best to tell the truth. Will preferred not to be lied to. 

Will's face flushed in anger. "You- whatever. I don't care. I want the camera."

"It's yours." Hannibal nodded to the desk. "Take it."

Will did. "I need to know what you're doing to me. No more messing with me about these." He waved the camera back and forth. "I know you did something. Making me not want to watch it. I don't care anymore."

"You have the right to look. That's why we are recording in the first place."

Will wordlessly walked over to the coat rack and slipped on his jacket, camera held tightly in his grip. He exited the office, walking all the way to his car in the lightly falling snow. Hannibal watched him go without worry.

The truth was, Hannibal had faith in Will's desires. Will was in too deep now, gaining too much useful information and receiving too much pleasure. It was going to be impossible to erase the thought of Hannibal now, especially when it came to sex and pleasure, and that was going to haunt Will for a long time. He wouldn't be able to handle staying away. 

Even if Will somehow could, Hannibal wouldn't let him. He knew what was best for Will. Staying away from this office was not that. 

Hannibal would keep him coming back no matter what.

~~~

"Her name was Beth LeBeau."

Will stood in the doorway of the victim's bedroom, watching the forensics team do their work. They were crouched on the floor, examining the body of a woman whose face had been utterly decimated. Her mouth had been cut from the corners all the way back toward her ears, creating a permanent, mangled grin. 

"She drowned in her own blood," Price continued. "And what she didn't drown on is all over the floor and under the bed. She was trying to hide from him."

Will nodded. "He dragged her there," he said, pointing to the tracks. "He was waiting under the bed for her."

"Fought to claw her way out," Beverly commented, picking at claw marks on the wooden floor. Will held back a grimace. 

"He knew her." Will looked down at the shattered picture frames on the ground, the hostility with which the glass had been tossed aside and the photos marred. "Someone who cared about her. Or thought he did."

"He cared too much." Beverly said. 

"So, we're looking for boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, coworkers, guy who bags her groceries." Jack kept his hands in his pockets.

"No prints on the knife handle," Price said, shining his flashlight on the weapon. 

Will basked in the conversation. It felt so much better to be back on the crime scene in a stable mental state. He was at his prime here, handling the scene with tact and care. He no longer had to worry about losing himself, no longer had to think about lost time or hallucinations. Hannibal was the only thing on his mind, both positively and negatively. Mostly negatively. 

"There's other dermal tissue, presumably from the killer's, but the skin is so diseased or damaged it didn't leave any useful prints." Price shrugged.

Beverly examined the body with a furrowed brow. "The victims scratched her killer deep enough to pile tissue from under the fingernails, but never drew blood."

Jack stepped closer. "Why didn't he bleed?"

Zeller fiddled with his camera. "After he cut up the victim's face, it looks like he was trying to pull her skin back."

Will licked his lips. "Like he was removing a mask?" He stared down at the girl's mutilated face, noting that the funeral was likely going to be a closed-casket. "He believed she was hiding something. Either she turned into a person he didn't recognize, or he wanted to skin her to reveal something she was keeping from him. Either way, she was different. Maybe he believed she was putting up a facade, and he wanted to remove that burden from her."

As he spoke, he couldn't help but notice the parallels. It was the exact thing Hannibal had spoken about at their sessions: the belief that Will had constructed an elaborate facade, and the desire to strip him of that. The desire to leave him vulnerable, out in the open, with nowhere to turn but Hannibal himself. That was all Hannibal wanted in the end - to foster co-dependency. 

All night, he'd tossed and turned with the reality of the situation. Hannibal's control of him was getting deeper and deeper. While thinking about it, he'd grown both horny and panicked over the course of an hour. He'd tried to masturbate, but his hands wouldn't behave; he could pull down his pants and stare at his cock, but he couldn't do anything about it. 

He ended up laying on his stomach and rutting against the mattress, desperately trying to get some stimulation. It didn't work. An itch in the back of his mind compelled him to call Hannibal, but he threw his phone across the room and onto one of the empty dog beds before he could give that impulse the time of day. He knew it was likely Hannibal's doing. All of this was.

He'd then gone through half of a panic attack before his mind had given up and he collapsed into slumber. Now, he couldn't shake the overwhelming desire to learn the truth. 

He had to watch the tapes. 

Chapter Text

Will was standing in the creek. 

A warm breeze drifted across his face, the sun casting its rays down upon him. The water was the perfect temperature, flowing up to his knees, and as he cast out the line once more he felt utterly content. Utterly at peace. 

Amidst the constant sound of birds chirping, there was a rustle in the trees. The unmistakable sound of heavy breathing interrupted his focus, and when he turned his head to the treeline he nearly stumbled backward into the water. 

A massive black stag loomed over the creek, watching from afar. Will stared back, engaging in a silent battle of wills, until the sun caught its onyx fur and revealed a thicket of feathers on its skin. It tilted its head back, antlers reaching for the sky, and let out a massive roar that shook the earth around them.

Among all of the noise, there was a soft, alluring voice. One that was almost familiar in its hypnotic nature.

Will.

Will swayed with the flow of the water. The creature was beautiful. It was calling to him.

Come to me, Will. 

He wanted nothing more than to obey. He dropped the fishing rod, and the creek around him began to drain. It vanished into the ground along with everything else, and soon it was just him and the stag standing in a deep void. His steps became lighter now that they weren't under the water. His brain was numb. 

Good, Will. You want this, don't you? Come closer. 

An owl called out in the dark. The sun was just out. His bare feet scraped against the rocks. He was wearing shoes just a moment ago. 

A dog barked sharply, nearly making Will jump out of his skin. In the blink of an eye, the stag disappeared, and the rest of the world came into focus. He was standing on his driveway in nothing but a T-shirt and boxers, his path lit only by the half moon and the stars. Something soft nuzzled against his legs, and he looked down to see Winston trying to shove him back inside. 

A chill ran down his body. Something was wrong. The last time he sleepwalked was when he was still sick.

He ran back inside as if something was on his heels, and he triple checked the lock once the door was shut. He grabbed a flash drive from atop the kitchen counter and retreated into his room, resigned to not going back to sleep.

He had to confront Hannibal about all of this. The courage to watch the tapes hadn't reached him yet, and he was waiting on that before he agreed to another session. He couldn't be this reckless anymore, not after what he woke up to. 

He pushed the thought away. The longer he thought about his cock in Hannibal's mouth, the utter control Hannibal had over his ability to touch and come, the ease with which he'd dropped Will back into trance...Will squeezed his eyes shut, drowning out the memory.

That day at work, Hannibal sent him a short text message: Have you had the chance to watch the videos yet? When Will replied with a simple No, Hannibal responded, Good. I've left a flash drive in your mailbox with all the recordings thus far. It will be much easier than the camera. I do not want any confusion.

It was a strange offering, but Will took it. Admittedly, he didn't want to watch on a tiny camera. He'd already tested the flash drive for viruses on his dingiest laptop, and there was nothing suspicious about it - he didn't see Hannibal as the type to launch a cyber attack, anyway. It wasn't personal enough.

Still, Will wasn't going to watch anything on his personal computer. He would have to stick to the dingy one. 

He pulled the computer into his lap now, lodging the flash drive into the side. He had to learn what Hannibal was doing to him. He had to know if he should worry about getting sick again.

He hadn't had any physical symptoms, he thought as he opened the files. There were only two so far: the full session that Will hesitated over, out of fear of watching himself masturbate; and the latest session, the one that had been cut short when Hannibal decided to stop recording. God only knew what was implanted in his head during that one.

Will had a plan for watching these. He knew it wouldn't be smart to watch them all the way through with the volume up; he couldn't risk falling under while he watched. He was going to skip through the video until he saw Hannibal's hand raise to snap his fingers. At that point, the trigger would already be past, and Will could observe in a more stable state of mind. 

He did just that, clicking through certain parts of the progress bar and watching the image on the screen dance between frames. In each image, his body sank lower into his chair, his head lolling further forward on his neck. Eventually, he reached the moment that Hannibal snapped, and he watched on mute as his own mind sank into a deep trance. A tingling feeling shot through his groin, but he ignored it. Now was not the time. 

He adjusted the volume on his computer and sat back.

"-blissful forgetfulness." Hannibal's tinny voice emerged from the cheap speakers. "You're confused, but that doesn't faze you. You're calm. Tell me how it feels, Will."

"Good." Will's jaw clenched at the sound of his own voice, almost drunken in the way his syllables slurred together. "It's good."

"Yes, I know. It's very nice, isn't it?" A knowing smirk grew on Hannibal's face.

"Yes." The video version of Will twitched his hips upward, a clear sign of arousal. 

"What was that for, Will? Are my words arousing you?"

"Yes."

Will put his hand over his mouth. Watching this was humiliating, but it had to be done. At least he was alone right now. 

"That's good," Hannibal said, "that's good. No shame in that. We expected this would happen. Now, pleasure can be a very good trance amplifier. Particularly sexual pleasure. Orgasm can release many types of hormones that make someone feel sleepy and euphoric. We could find a way to kill two birds with one stone, in a sense. Make this trance better for you while also learning more about how you think."

So that was Hannibal's excuse. Will scoffed, and one of his dogs perked its ears. Hannibal's gaze kept shifting back and forth between Will and the camera. 

"You are aware that hypnosis is not mind control. I cannot make you do anything you do not already want to do. If I were to give you a suggestion that you didn't want to carry out, you simply would not do it. Right?"

It was a smart way to manufacture consent. Technically, Will couldn't argue with him about this. He'd given Hannibal the green light to do what he wanted. Honestly, though, learning that he was open and willing to do all of this made things a little bit worse.

"Yes."

"Good, Will. Now, I am going to suggest something to you. If you don't wish to do it, just tell me, and we will move on. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. I suggest that every time I say something that arouses you, every time a sentence leaves my mouth that makes you sexually aroused, you are going to pull down a layer of clothing. One sentence, your belt. Another, your pants. Another, your underwear. Then, once all of those are gone, after the next sentence you will start touching yourself. Start slowly at first, and with each sentence you will pick up the pace. You are allowed to come if the need arises. Do you understand?"

So Hannibal had lied to him. Once he'd woken that day, Hannibal told him he had stripped of his own volition. It seemed like that wasn't actually the case.

"Yes."

"Do you want to do that?"

"Please." Will's hips jerked again. His desperation made him blush now.

"Good. If the moment arises that you no longer feel comfortable under my control, you will immediately stop. If you have taken off your pants and you no longer want to take any more layers off, you will tell me, and we will stop. You are in as much control as I am over this situation. Do you understand?"

He did understand. As he spoke, Will realized it was true. Hannibal had given Will the controls. There was little to complain about.

"Yes."

"Tell me what you want to do."

"I...I want to touch myself. Touch myself."

Will had to pause the video. This was almost too much to handle. He buried his face in his hands for a long while, biting back a groan, before hesitantly pressing play again. There was no other way to learn the truth than to power through.

"That's a good boy, Will. Let's begin that suggestion then, yes?"

"Please."

Good boy. The words did something primal to him, and the tingle became impossible to ignore. Will licked his lips, cursing himself for allowing this to happen.

"Now, I would like to talk about the arrest of Devon Silvestri. After all, that's where this entire thing started." Hannibal folded his hands. "You ran off after seeing me perform that emergency transplant. You masturbated in the hospital bathroom, is that right?"

"Yes."

"I will admit, I intruded on your privacy. I only wanted to check on you, but I heard you moaning my name and couldn't resist listening."

"I know." 

Will watched in horror as the video version of himself slipped off his belt. He was really going to do this. He was really under that much control. Hannibal didn't react at all to the movement. 

"What made you do that, Will? In the hospital?"

"The...the blood. The way you looked at me." It was the truth. This really was lowering his inhibitions, it seemed. 

Hannibal nodded. "I see. Did it make you feel small? Like I was exerting dominance over you?"

"What you're capable of. I like that."

"You seem convinced that I am the Chesapeake Ripper. Is that what you're referring to? You believe I am capable of such actions?"

"I imagined it. I liked it."

"Seeing me perform that surgery, you imagined that I was the Chesapeake Ripper?"

"Pieces fitting into place," Will replied. "You had all the signs. I was imagining what else you were capable of, and then...you looked at me. Like that."

"You like the idea of me being the Chesapeake Ripper?"

"I...I shouldn't."

"Remember, Will, this is not a conversation of morals. This is emotion. There is nothing to be ashamed of, not in a private place such as this."

"I do like it."

That was it. If the entire rest of the video wasn't reason enough to keep this flash drive a secret, then that quote was. Will couldn't have it get out there that he was commiserating with the Chesapeake Ripper. That he knew what was happening and liked the idea of it. 

"Why do you like it? What do I have differently that any other suspect would not? Would you feel the same way about anyone else who was potentially the Ripper?"

"You...you're brilliant. You're powerful. You find...art in it."

"You like the possibility of me committing a crime while no one suspects a thing?"

"You're not...reckless with it. You aren't emotional or messy."

It wasn't the most articulate phrasing, but it captured the general idea that had been festering in the back of Will's mind for weeks. Even now, he wasn't sure how he'd put it. The best way to get the truth out there had been through this. 

"I perform my work with delicate precision. I have spent a long time building my life here, Will. I've learned from my mistakes in past lives."

"You've killed in other places?"

Will tensed. If Hannibal answered this, he would have very sensitive information on his hands. 

"That's not the matter we're discussing right now."

Will sighed in exasperation. Of course.

Hannibal stood and crept over to Will, leaning in to prop Will's head back up. He couldn't help but feel a tad grateful; slumping forward like that for any longer would have killed his neck. 

He must have whispered something in Will's ear, because Will reacted like an awakened sleeper agent. He unzipped his pants and pushed them halfway down, revealing his hard cock in his underwear. At home now, Will let out a small gasp at his audacity. 

Hannibal knelt on the floor. "You enjoy the fantasy of me committing these crimes because it is an extreme version of me being in control. If I were the Ripper, I would control this entire side of the country. I would control the FBI's actions, civilians' actions...yours. Do you like the idea of me controlling you, Will?"

"Yes."

"That is the crux of your dreams, is it not?"

"It is." It was. 

"Good." 

By the time Will noticed the position of Hannibal's fingers, it was too late. 

"Sleep, Will."

A wave of exhaustion swept over Will, washing away all the thoughts on the top layer of his brain. His mouth hung open slightly, his eyelids heavy, and the thought of moving was too much to bear. He knew what had just happened; he knew he didn't want it to happen, but at the same time it would be so much easier to just sit and listen. Listening always made him feel good. Sleeping was always nice...

No, no, no. This wasn't what he wanted. He lurched forward, reaching for the mouse to click on the screen and pause, but his fumbling hands and blurred vision just moved to somewhere on the progress bar. 

When he clicked, the video didn't pause. It rewound to thirty seconds earlier.

"Good. Sleep, Will."

The compounding of the trigger was too much to fight. Will slid down the headboard of his bed, eyes sinking closed, and listened. Listening was always nice. It was so much easier to just sit and listen.

"I control your mind, Will," Doctor Lecter said. "I control your arousal. You belong to me."

Doctor Lecter did control his mind. He was very good at it. Being under his influence was easy. 

Will heard himself let out a moan in the video, and he wished he could do the same. He wanted so badly to touch his cock, but he wasn't allowed. He needed permission. 

"Good boy. That's a very good boy."

Yes. Yes, he always listened to orders. He wasn't going to touch without permission, because he was good. He was obedient. 

"Do you masturbate to the memory of murdering Garrett Jacob Hobbs?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter," Will said, drowning out whatever the other version of himself said on video. 

"Perfect. What a perfect subject you are." 

Will beamed under his praise. What Doctor Lecter said was always right. It was always true. 

"You're not going to come until I tell you to. Just keep stroking that lovely cock of yours, feeling really good."

That was all the permission Will needed. He practically tore off his boxers, wrapped his hand around his hard cock and began to stroke. It was everything he'd ever wanted. 

"Feeling wonderful, feeling your brain melt away with every moment of pleasure. Each stroke makes you more susceptible to my control."

Will smiled. He loved being under Doctor Lecter's control. Every time his hand moved up, closer to the tip, it was like he was rubbing the thoughts out of his brain. He loved being empty for Doctor Lecter.

"I'm going to give you some more triggers, Will. Are you ready for that?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." Will spoke over the video again. That older version of himself didn't speak to his superior the way he should. 

"It doesn't matter whether you're in trance or out of trance, whether you're completely aware or fast asleep. If I end a sentence, a command, with the words 'do you understand,' you will automatically follow and obey. No questions asked. No resistance. It is an automatic obedience trigger. You aren't sure why, you just know that those words compel you to obey. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." He wished Doctor Lecter was here right now. This video would have to do. He would be proud that he was training. 

"Good. Secondly, when you wake from this trance, you will not remember what has just happened. You will only know that at some point, you began masturbating of your own free will, without my order. It's so embarrassing, isn't it? How you just began to touch yourself in front of me without any prompting? We were only having a normal conversation, Will."

Oh. Will furrowed his brow. Maybe that was why Doctor Lecter wasn't here. It was some sort of punishment for humiliating himself like that. They were only having a normal conversation, and he'd been the horny, stupid one that had to change things. He would have to call Doctor Lecter and make it up to him.

"You will not want to watch this tape. You're too embarrassed. You don't want to see yourself like that. You'll avoid watching it like the plague. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Good. You've done a very nice job. With every drop that spills out of you, you're going to feel more of your thoughts drain away. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Come." A beautiful snap, jolting his brain in the right direction. Will gasped, stroking even faster now as his heart fluttered and his mind shut off. He came so hard he nearly passed out, and with every drop that hit his fingers, another thought left his brain. 

"Come. Thoughts draining for me."

Come for Doctor Lecter. Come for Doctor Lecter. Come for Doctor Lecter. 

It was painful, but Will did it anyway. He came a second time, crying out in both agony and overwhelming pleasure  

Come come come come come come come 

"Drop into trance. Drop. Sleep." 

Falling into static...silent, white, beautiful static.

"Give me your hand."

Will's hand rose. 

"Now, remind me of your triggers."

"Don't remember trance. Don't watch tape."

"Good."

"Obey when you say my triggers."

And that was all Will wanted to do. He wanted to obey. And Doctor Lecter had told him not to watch the tape. 

He reached out and shut the computer. 

Static. 

He needed orders. He couldn't go to sleep without telling Doctor Lecter how good he was. 

He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and clicked on one of his most recent calls. His brain was clearer than it had been all night. Following Doctor Lecter's orders was paramount. How could he have missed it before?

"Hello, Will." The sound of his voice sent the beautiful, fuzzy static over Will's mind again. He smiled. 

"Doctor Lecter," he said. 

There was a pause on the other end. "Hello, Will. Are you alright?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter. I watched the tape. I know you told me not to, but I had to follow your orders."

Another pause, followed by a satisfied chuckle. "Oh, poor Will. Did you fall under while watching the video?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter. I'm sorry-"

"No, no. It's my fault. I haven't given you much in terms of training, have I? How else were you meant to drop and follow my orders?" 

Will hummed. "I follow Doctor Lecter."

"There's a good boy. You've done very well, calling me. I'm proud of you." 

"Thank you, Doctor Lecter."

"So polite, too. I love a slave that's polite. Tell me, Will, do you want to be a slave?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you want to know that you're a slave?"

"No, sir."

"Good boy. Did you come?"

Will bit his lip. Was he not supposed to? "You gave me permission in the video."

"I know I did. I only wanted to check. I'm glad you could be satisfied."

His shoulders fell in relief. "I didn't watch any more after that. You told me not to watch, so I turned it off."

"That's a very good boy. That's why you haven't woken up yet. You don't want to wake up, do you, Will? That's not a lot of fun."

"No, sir." 

"And you're not going to remember this trance in the morning, is that right?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." Certain details of it were already leaving his brain. At some point, his boxers had come off. He just didn't know when. 

"That's right. And you're also not going to remember watching the tape at all," Doctor Lecter ordered. "No, you're going to come right back to that tape tomorrow night, and it'll all be brand new to you. Perhaps it won't be this early in the morning; it should be a more reasonable hour in the evening. You'll follow whatever routine you did tonight that brought you into this trance. And it will happen all over again, and you will pick up the phone and call me, do you understand?

He did understand. "Yes, sir."

"Good boy, Will. You must be rather tired. Why don't you lay back for me and get comfortable?"

Will did. He snuggled up in the blankets, head buried in his soft pillow. The bed was so warm and welcoming. 

"Do you have an alarm set for tomorrow, Will? For your typical time?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." 

"Good. When I give the command, you are going to sleep peacefully until that alarm goes off. What will happen in the morning?"

"I won't remember this trance. Or watching the tape."

"Good boy, Will. That's a very good boy. You've been excellent."

"Thank you, Doctor Lecter."

"I'm very excited for our next session. For now, why don't you go on and sleep for me?"

Static. 

~~~

Will's alarm provided a rude awakening the next morning, with his phone being centimeters away from his ear. He groaned, rolling over to slam his finger against the screen and turn the loud noise off. The early morning sun streamed into his room, and the dogs were already gearing up to go outside. 

The laptop sat closed on the edge of the bed. Will sighed; he meant to watch that video, but he must have fallen asleep on his phone. It was probably for the better; he wasn't in the right state after sleepwalking. 

His arms were covered with lines, indents of the sheets and blankets. He'd slept well.

He’d watch that video tonight. He had to learn the truth before scheduling another session with Hannibal. 

It was time to find out who killed Beth LeBeau. 

Chapter Text

Will wasn't sure why, but every fiber in his body was urging him to get away. It had started as a palpitation in his chest, nerves fluttering as a voice in the back of his mind whispered go, go, go. It wasn't that he didn't feel safe; it was that he would feel even more secure somewhere else.

Throughout his many years with the Bureau, he'd learned to always trust his intuition. He knew just where to go.

He wasn't going to get any answers on the Beth LeBeau case without examining the scene of the crime once more. Consequences be damned, he scarfed down a microwaved meal that night and climbed in the car to drive the two hours to Greenwood.

It was pitch black when he got there, the only light coming from the front of his car. When he reached the house, he could practically see the ghosts swarming around the outside. The screams ringing through the foundations, forever dooming the home to be haunted. No one would likely ever live in this house again.

He crept toward the front door with his flashlight in hand, lighting the entryway and tearing down the flimsy yellow tape. When he opened the door, the house was eerily quiet. His flashlight reflected off the metal bars of an empty birdcage.

He tested a light switch to find it didn't work. He was stuck in the dark.

If the exterior of the house was sprinkled with screams, then the bedroom was fully infused with them. The floor was still slick with blood, the furniture vibrating with the atoms of carbon dioxide let out by Beth's futile cries. The room reeked of death. She had called for help, and no one came to her aid.

He shone the flashlight down on the ground, examining the blood, and a slight movement out of the corner of his eye made his muscles tense entirely. He was frozen in place, jaw clenched, as something silently shifted under the bed. Something more than just a dust bunny or a rat. Something large and alive.

He inched the light closer to the gap under the frame, and the movement quickened. Something ducked out of his line of sight, hiding from him. He could have sworn he caught the vague details of a human face.

As slowly as he could, he began to crouch, bending his knees millimeter by millimeter. He was hellbent on not making a sound. Lower down with each second, ready to stare death in the face.

The entire bed frame was launched upward, the mattress sailing for him and threatening to knock him to the floor. Will jumped, pushing himself away from harm, and without thinking he reached for the culprit. He had his fingers locked around their wrist - her, she was a young woman - but she paid him no mind, crying out in pain as she pulled away.

A wet, fragile sound of tearing flesh echoed through the bedroom, and the woman's skin came right off into Will's hand. The entire forearm had shed its outer layer, and Will clutched it with a trembling grip. It was perfectly intact, like the skin of a snake.

She ran out of the bedroom before Will could catch her again, and he followed. He was fast, but she was nimble; she'd been given a head start while Will was weighed down by fear. He followed her out of the house and into the backyard, into the thicket of trees surrounding the property. She was instantly lost to the forest, Will's flashlight doing nothing to locate her in the suffocating darkness.

"H-Hello?" he called out. He spun around, trying to find any sign of movement again. "My name is Will Graham. And you're alive."

The sentence sprang to him for seemingly no reason, but once it escaped his lips he knew exactly why. He held on tightly to the dead skin in his hand, visualizing the brief flash of the woman he'd found under the bed: dirty, dead skin, hair that hadn't been washed in potentially years, a fearful look in her gaze that was only comparable to that of an injured dog. She was more of a creature than a human.

"If you can hear me," he called out again, new determination in his voice, "you're alive!"

~~~

"Why did you call me?"

Beverly's voice was a comfort in the otherwise silent house. Anything to drown out the echoes of screams.

"Why not Jack?" she asked. "Why not the police?"

It would be difficult to explain in just a sentence or two, especially with the track he was on now. Before his brain had been healed, when he was in the throes of his illness, he would have been certain that he was seeing things. He would have called Beverly out of fear that he was just hallucinating, desperate for another opinion to reassure him. He may have even lost the skin he'd pulled off, conveniently ridding himself of vital evidence that he wasn't crazy.

He was different now. He was healed. He was sane. He still had the skin in his left hand.

But it couldn't hurt to make sure before he sounded the alarm. The last thing he needed was to start looking crazy again. He needed a friend, a trustworthy source, to assure him that things were okay. To assure him that he was completely healed, and he wasn't going down the drain again. After all, this moment seemed incredibly surreal, something out of his nightmares. He wouldn't put it past himself to still be suffering the aftereffects, making this up for one reason or another.

At first, he thought about calling Hannibal, but he wasn't sure how much to trust him with something like this. Then, he remembered an offhanded comment that Beverly had made at the scene with Beth LeBeau's body.

I'm going to stay nearby for a few days, she'd told Jack. My partner's family lives here, so I figured we'd make the best out of a bad situation and sneak in a visit. If you need me, call me.

Conveniently nearby and always reliable, Beverly was his security blanket.

"I'm not entirely sure what I saw was real. After everything I went through...I had to make sure." He held out his hand.

Beverly took in the scene for a moment, licking her lips in thought. She was clearly still wary of Will after the hellish sickness his mind had thrown him into, but she couldn't deny the evidence in his hand. She knew he wasn't going mad, at least not yet.

"Looks real to me," she replied. "What happened?"

He'd given her only the bare minimum on the phone. He'd just needed her to get there fast. "I grabbed her arm," he said, remembering the moment, "and an entire layer of dead skin separated from the underlying tissue, like she was wearing a glove."

"That's why she doesn't bleed," Beverly realized.

"Right. There's no circulation. And there's nothing alive in the tissue to bind it."

Beverly examined it, nodding. "It's real," she said again. "Got that, Will? This is real."

"Thank you." Words couldn't fully express his appreciation. She was always straightforwardly kind, providing Will with just what he needed.

"Knowing that, we can tell Jack about this tomorrow."

"What do you think it is?" he asked. He couldn't wait until tomorrow for an answer. "I mean, I know you haven't seen her, but...if you had to guess."

"Could be a staphylococcal infection. That, or leprosy."

The vague glimpse Will had gotten of her supported that. "Her eyes were discolored. She was malnourished, jaundiced. Her liver was shutting down. She was...deranged."

Beverly looked unsettled at the thought. "So she mutilated a woman's face because she thought it was a mask."

Will tilted his head to the ceiling. The woman's gaze had been that of fear, not any sort of recognition. It was as if she couldn't sense that Will was human, that any kind smile or gentle gaze he could provide would be useless.

"She can't see faces," he discovered. It made a lot of sense, considering the way she'd tried to remove the mask from Beth's face. To see what was supposedly underneath the blur. "If she did kill Beth LeBeau, she might not even know she did it."

"Then why did she come back?"

"To make sure she didn't." She wanted reassurance too. She wanted to know that her friend was still alive.

Beverly considered this for a moment before taking a step closer, careful to avoid the blood on the floor. "You're the subject of a lot of speculation at the Bureau," she admitted.

Once again, she was straightforward. Will knew it to be true, but he hadn't wanted to face it. He hated the idea of people talking about him behind his back. "Oh, yeah? What are they speculating?"

"That Jack pushed you right up to the edge," Beverly looked him in the eyes, "and now you're at risk of pushing yourself over. Throwing yourself back into the work after that's what caused your symptoms to worsen."

"I'm perfectly sane," Will replied. "I've recovered, and I'm more clear than I've ever been."

He meant every word, and that seemed to comfort Beverly a bit. She nodded. "You know you can always put yourself over the work. Don't force yourself into this. You have to keep yourself safe, too."

"Of course. I'm just gonna keep listening to Doctor Lecter, and that should help a lot."

Wait. Where had that come from?

Beverly didn't seem to notice the way Will's brow furrowed at his own statement. "Yeah, is therapy going well?"

It sure is going, Will wanted to say, and it's fucking weird. I don't trust him with anything.

And yet, he found himself smiling.

"Yeah. He's great." The words spilled out without Will being able to control them. His mouth wasn't his anymore. "Doctor Lecter is really good at what he does. He knows what's best for me."

"That's good." Beverly smiled back. "I hope he can keep helping you."

He's not helping me. He's taken over my mind. He's controlling me right now.

"He will. I'm very grateful for him." God, what was he saying? None of that was true. None of that was anywhere near true.

"Well." She shrugged. "If his office isn't open one day for any reason, you can come to me, alright?"

Will's shoulders fell, the guttural fear that came from not being able to control himself fading for a split second. "I know. Thank you."

"No problem. You're lucky I was close by tonight."

He looked down at the skin in his hand, trying to shake it off. He was just tired, trying to appease Beverly without getting into the details. That was the explanation, nothing else. "I guess I should keep this?"

"I would. Just keep it in your car. You can bring it to Jack in the morning." She glanced up at him. "You're a long way from home. Do you want to stay with me for the night? Get an extra two hours of sleep, maybe?"

"Oh, God, I couldn't do that to you and your partner," Will said. "The last thing the family would want is some stranger in their house at night."

Beverly smirked. "There's not actually family up here," she admitted. "Charlie and I just wanted a getaway. We've got a cabin nearby with a guest room; you won't be bothering us."

Will couldn't help but chuckle. "I mean, if you're offering..."

"C'mon. You can follow me there. Fifteen minutes."

It sounded much better than two hours. The dogs would be okay until the morning.

The skin sat in the passenger seat beside him. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel the entire drive. His jaw ached from how hard he clenched his teeth together, afraid of letting more traitorous words slip out. This wasn't him. This brain, this mind, this essence, would never be the same again. Hannibal had marked it from the day they met; he'd scarred it with the sickness; he was irreparably morphing it with his work now.

It wasn't just a tactic to learn the truth; it was a tactic to change Will. To turn him into someone completely different.

He still hadn't built up the courage to watch the tapes. Every night, he sat and stared at his old computer for a long time, sometimes even pulling up the files, but he could never press the play button. He knew it had something to do with Hannibal's conditioning, but it also had something to do with his own dignity and self-preservation.

God knew what would happen if he caught the wrong moment in the tape. He'd fall under, and at that point there would be no turning back.

It wasn't long before they pulled into the driveway of a small log cabin. There were no lights on in the windows, but the home carried so much more life than Beth LeBeau's. It was as if the universe was still shining a metaphorical light down on Beverly - for Beth, both the physical and metaphorical bulbs had burnt out, and they would never light up again.

What would it be like for that woman under the bed?

"Charlie's probably asleep," Beverly said once she got out of the car. "If you could just be quiet. I don't really have clothes for you, but-"

"You've done enough," Will said. "I really appreciate it."

"Just try to get some sleep, alright?"

"I will."

He followed her retreating back, getting closer with each step. Right before she turned the front knob, he softly uttered her name in the darkness. She turned to him, dark eyes boring into his.

"I don't want to get into great detail right now," he whispered, "but I...I think I'm afraid of Doctor Lecter."

Beverly stared at him. "Yeah?"

"I don't know what to do about it now. But...can you just remember that? No matter what else I might say to you, no matter what I do to contradict that sentiment, just...remember that I told you this. Remember that right now, I'm afraid of him."

Beverly's tone remained flat and serious. "Did he hurt you? Do you need me to call someone?"

"Not...not yet." He dreaded what would happen if she did. He'll kill you. He'll make sure you never tell anyone else. "But stay away from him, okay? Please?"

"I don't have any reason to be around him that often." She shrugged. "So that shouldn't be hard to follow. But, seriously, is there something we need to do?"

"Not right now. But I think...he's doing something to me. Just remember that. That's all I'm going to say for now."

He couldn't read her expression, nor did she give him time to try. She gave a curt nod before turning back to the front door, opening it to reveal a dark, quiet house.

She'd been so flat, he wasn't sure if she believed him.

~~~

"I found myself in a strange predicament the other night."

Hannibal's gaze held so much more power now, almost pinning Will to his chair as he listened intently to what Will had to say. The camera was running on the desk beside them, a product of Will's insistence to have every session recorded — even those without hypnosis planned. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Will decided against throwing Beverly into the line of fire. "I was talking to a friend who asked me how therapy was going," he explained. "I wanted to be a little more candid. I wanted to talk about how our therapy is rather...unorthodox. That we have a strange relationship that dances between colleagues, patient and therapist, enemies...something else entirely." Hannibal let out a minuscule exhale at that. "But for some reason, I couldn't say any of that."

"What did you say?"

Will narrowed his eyes. "I think you know what I said."

Hannibal leaned back, folding his hands across his lap. "Well, I am curious to know. How is your therapy going, Will?"

Another invisible thread pulling at the corners of his mouth, forcing him to smile like he was a puppet. A vague calmness settled over the top of his head. "It's going really well," he said without thinking. "You really know what's best for me. I'm very grateful for your help."

Hannibal smirked. "That's very good, Will. I'm glad it's helping."

Will couldn't control it anymore. His lower body twitched, cock hardening under his boxers. He did his best to shift back in his chair and cover up the movement, but Hannibal was always perceptive. He stood, ambling over to Will and staring down at him.

"God," Will muttered through clenched teeth, "what are you doing to me?"

"See, that's the most interesting part." Hannibal ran his pointer finger along the edge of Will's jaw. "My contribution to your state of mind is really quite small. You're the one doing most of the work."

He snapped his fingers by Will's ear, startling him, and the thoughts flushed out in a wave of white static static static static static-

"Come back to me, Will." Another snap, and Will blinked, alert once more. "You didn't have to fall just then, if you didn't want to. I didn't combine it with the sleep trigger. But even that, even your most powerful trigger, can be fought if you are really determined. It may simply be much more difficult than the others.

"But you aren't trying at all, are you, Will? You want this. You want to be under my control."

He was right. Will wanted it more than anything. He would simply rather die than admit it.

"When you were asked about therapy," Hannibal continued, "you were in no way under my control. You could have said anything you wanted, and I'm sure you did say some things outside of my script." Hannibal smiled, showing a glimpse of his sharp canines, and Will got the feeling that he just knew what he'd said to Beverly. He knew Will was scared, and he loved it. "But all your subconscious knows is that falling under my control means receiving great deals of pleasure. I've conditioned you into that now. Pleasure, as I've said, is such a powerful influence. Especially sexual pleasure.

"Your mind loves to listen to me because it's always associated with a pleasurable experience." Hannibal knelt on the floor, fiddling with Will's belt buckle. Will didn't stop him. "You could have fought the influence when you were talking to this person, but you chose not to. Your subconscious chose to listen to me, and your conscious mind didn't fight it because you would rather believe you were deep under my control. Fighting it, using a conscious effort to say something else, would mean you were stronger than my control."

He toyed with the waistband of Will's pants, slipping off the belt and setting it on the ground. "But you don't want that. You want my control to be stronger than you in every way, don't you?"

Will closed his eyes. "I want you to take me."

"Your body has learned that obedience to me leads to pleasure. It's a simple chain from there: your subconscious wants more pleasure, so it chooses to listen to my instructions. It wants to be under my control, so it chooses to believe you have no other choice. It gives you no motivation to try to fight it, so you go about the day believing you were under powerful mind control. In reality, the only ringleader here is you, Will."

Hannibal tugged at Will's pants, pulling them down to expose his hard cock pressing against his underwear. "Conditioning can be unlearned," he said, "but you don't want that, do you, Will?"

"No, Doctor Lecter." He didn't even have to be under for the words to slip out. They felt right.

"There's a good boy." Hannibal lightly traced the outline Will's cock with his finger, making him whimper. "Now, I've made a mistake in telling you all of this. The magician has revealed his secrets. I would rather you blindly believe you are under my power; I think it makes this much more exciting for the both of us. The only thing I can do now is make sure you forget about all that."

Will's breathing grew heavy. He had to keep his composure. He could hardly focus on Hannibal's words anymore.

"And that's the best part. It's going to be easy to make you forget. You're already so distracted that you've hardly been able to focus on what my words mean; your subconscious isn't going to remember those things." Hannibal leaned closer. He smelled of pine and the metallic tang of blood. "No, you've spent this whole time thinking about my hand on your cock and my control over your mind and so your consciousness is susceptible for you to just drop into sleep for me." He snapped. "Sleep and sink. Down you go, good boy, Will."

Will was gone. His body surrendered, limbs falling limp, and his brain held nothing but static. Dropping into trance by itself was nearly as good as an orgasm. He wanted to drop into trance all the time. He wanted Doctor Lecter to control him all the time.

"Very good job." Doctor Lecter stroked his curls. "Very good. See, that was entirely your choice. Anything you're thinking right now is something your subconscious was already fixated on. Even long before our first session together."

He was such a comforting presence. Will loved being under Doctor Lecter's control.

"Seeing as we're filming," Doctor Lecter said, "we may as well gain some insight today. But that does not mean we cannot also give you a reward." He pulled down Will's boxers, exposing his hard cock. "You've been listening to those tapes for days now, Will, haven't you?"

"N-No," Will replied. He'd been good; he had to prove that he'd listened to Doctor Lecter. "I didn't. You told me not to."

"I know, I know. But your phone calls tell me otherwise. You simply don't remember."

"No." Will shook his head. His eyes were still closed; he couldn't face Doctor Lecter in the midst of accusations like that. "No, I've been good."

"Oh, I know, Will. Don't worry. You've done everything I asked you to, don't worry. Everything is going exactly as I've planned." He placed his hand on Will's thigh. "Can you look at me, please?"

Will did. Doctor Lecter's face was a welcoming sight. He was a halo of light, the only thing Will could focus on. He couldn't look away. Doctor Lecter was so handsome.

"We're going to kill two birds with one stone today," he said, standing. "We're going to learn some things about you, and we're going to deepen our connection. Would you like that?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Good." He nodded as he sat back down. "I must always ask: do you want to be under my control, Will?"

"Yes, please." Will nodded.

"Good. Do you want to be a slave?"

"Sometimes."

Hannibal blinked. It was the first time he'd heard a different answer. Will must have been doing some thinking since their last trance. It had only been two nights, but things could change in a split second in the human mind.

"Can you tell me what you mean by that, Will?" he asked. "Does that mean you only sometimes like these trances, or does that mean you want to be a slave, but for only portions of your life?"

"...Second," Will replied. "I'm...I'm a little scared."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Losing everything. Losing who I am." Will gripped the arms of his chair. "I can't lose myself again."

"These trances remind you of your time with encephalitis."

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"It seems to me that you enjoy letting go of your mind, but only in some ways," Hannibal said. "This experience you spoke about with your friend, having to fully confront the effect these sessions have, you feel conflicted by that. You are simultaneously willing to embrace it because it arouses you, but you also fear the loss of your identity. Does that sound right?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"It appears I've overstepped a boundary. And I apologize for that. I will admit I wanted to strike a little bit of fear in you, but I believed it would contribute to arousal rather than discomfort. It won't happen again. Do you still feel comfortable being under trance right now?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter. More comfortable this way."

"I know, I understand. We may veer a little off my planned conversation today, then, but I'm nothing if not adaptable." He crossed his legs. "Can you tell me exactly how you wish to rescind control? What aspects of your life are you willing to give to me?"

"Sex," Will replied. "I like when you control me through sex. I don't like...control over what I say in my normal life."

"I see. You enjoy my control over your arousal and your sexual acts, but not anything else."

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"I understand. Thank you for telling me that. Our session today should be very similar to my plan, then, perhaps with a few tweaks. Do you want to continue this session, or would you like to stop? Be fully honest; I won't be upset."

"I need...I need to learn more about myself." Will's hips twitched slightly. "I need your control over my cock. I need your reward."

"Good, Will. Let's work up to that reward, then, shall we?" He leaned back in his chair. "Since we've done a lot of introspection and speaking, let's erase some of that awareness. You're going to let your eyes close as you sleep for me."

With a snap, Will sagged even more, and his eyes fluttered closed. His exposed cock twitched.

"Very good. Sleep." Hannibal smiled as he watched Will melt into a mindless puddle. "Today, Will, I want to talk about blood."

Chapter Text

"Today, we're going to talk about blood."

"Blood," Will muttered to himself, the word half-slurred. Hannibal took a long while to stare at him, taking in the beautiful scene that he had created himself. This creature, this thing that he'd reduced from human into something more primal, was a product of hard work and mental manipulation.

Hannibal was proud of it. He couldn't wait to see it in its element. 

Will's bare cock was out, exposed to fresh air and twitching with excitement. He didn't seem to notice it; if he did, he didn't care. His mind was more focused on listening and obeying.

"Will," he began, "you told me that witnessing me perform that surgery in the ambulance aroused you. Part of that had to do with the way I looked at you, and part of it had to do with the blood. Can you tell me more about the blood?"

"You had...blood on your hands."

"I did. Was that the part that aroused you?"

"It's...it's someone else's life. Quite literally on your hands."

"I see. Witnessing me in that position of power is arousing to you?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Why is that?"

"You had your hands near someone's heart. You had the power to just...take it all away, if you wanted. I think a lot about...about feeling your pulse underneath my fingers. Knowing you're one step away from death."

"Aren't we all just a decision or two away from death at any moment?" Hannibal asked in response. "What makes this different?"

"We are all just a decision or two away from death. But that pertains to ourselves. It takes a lot more internal power to take someone else's life, too." Will's eyes were half-lidded; he was almost too clear for Hannibal's liking. Not clear enough to notice his exposed cock laying against his thigh, but too clear for the actions Hannibal wanted to happen. 

"Is that why you enjoy the vision of me as the Chesapeake Ripper?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter. You...you get to watch the life drain from someone's eyes. They roll back in their head...and they go pale..." He licked his lips. "You're like God."

"I do not consider myself to be God." Hannibal shook his head. 

Will's eyes would have narrowed, but if his eyelids sank any lower they would be entirely closed. "Why?"

"Don't you think He gets bored, Will? Being omnipotent?" Hannibal leaned forward. "There is nothing left for Him. Nothing new to discover. He has witnessed every tragedy - been the sole source of it, in fact. If all goes according to His plan, then where is the fun in that?"

"What do you consider yourself?"

"There is thrill in defiance. There is thrill in rebellion." Hannibal smirked. "But right now, in that state, where all you want to do is drop and sleep for me...you will only find thrill in obedience. Do you understand?"

Will's limbs sank even further down into the leather chair. "Yes, Doctor Lecter," he breathed.

"We're going to work up to a reward, Will, but you must learn to be patient. Can you be patient for me?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Good. Is your cock nice and hard for me?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"I'm going to let you touch, but only with some conditions. You must listen carefully." Hannibal reached for his own belt, elegantly slipping it out of the loops and setting it on the floor. He pulled down his trousers and underwear, taking out his own cock. He wasn't hard just yet, but he was going to be in due time. "You're going to stare at my cock, and nothing else. You can no longer focus on anything except my cock. Anytime you try, your mind will go fuzzy and you will instantly be drawn back to my cock again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." Will did understand; his gaze had already traveled to it. It was so massive, so thick. Just looking at it made him feel warm, slowing his heartbeat and turning him on. He needed that cock in his mouth, in his ass, anywhere Doctor Lecter wanted it. He needed to run his tongue along the veins, close his lips around that perfect pink head. He loved it. 

"Good. You're doing well so far. You cannot stop staring."

"Cannot..."

"I'm going to talk you through different stages of trance, and you're going to keep staring. If I ask you to touch, you're going to do it, but you aren't going to look away. And when I tell you to stop, you must immediately oblige. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." He did understand. He loved doing what Doctor Lecter said. It was the easiest thing he'd ever done.

"I'm going to count down from ten. Each number is going to drop you deeper, and you are going to become more and more fixated on obeying me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." 

"Good. We're starting with ten, and then you'll fall deeper.

"Nine, you're drifting ever so slowly down. Eight, you're feeling relaxed. Seven, your muscles are relaxing until you can't even feel your own body anymore."

Will stared at Doctor Lecter's cock, unblinking. He hoped Doctor Lecter would let him suck it. 

"Six, and you're beginning to drool at the sight of my cock. Five, your cock is so hard. Four, your mind is so empty. Three, let that drool slip out of your mouth...two...one...sleep, good boy, Will. Keep staring."

Thick drool spilled from between Will's lips, landing on his shirt as his eyes remained trapped on Hannibal's cock. Hannibal smirked. 

"Good. Now, Will, when I tell you to wake, you are not going to be fully awake. You will not be alert. You will still be hypnotized, but you will be slightly more aware than you are now. There may be a small tug at the back of your mind, but you are still under enough of a trance to know to ignore it. Do you understand?'

"Yes, sir," Will slurred around the saliva in his mouth.

"Good. But for now, we're going to keep going deeper. Counting again. Ten...nine...eight...seven...wake, Will, you're going to wake now. Not deeper but floating a little higher up, waking."

Will blinked, the comforting blanket over his senses lifting slightly. The cold air in the room was a little more noticeable, his body belonging to him for a fraction of a second. He still couldn't look away from Doctor Lecter's cock, but -

"Sleep. Drop. Back down into sleep, even deeper than you were before."

That was so much better. Warm, comforting static. Doctor Lecter's cock. No worries or decisions, just obedience. 

"You like trance more than you like being awake, don't you, Will?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"We're going to make that even stronger. Will, you are allowed to stroke your cock now, but only when I say drop. When I tell you to wake, you have to stop. You are not allowed to come until I say so. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Good. You love to obey my every word."

"I...I want..." He couldn't stop staring at that cock. It was draining the thoughts from his mind.

"What is that, Will? What do you want?"

"I want to suck Doctor Lecter's cock."

Hannibal smiled. "That's a really good slave. You can do that once we are finished here. For now, touch yourself."

Will did. It felt so good to slip his hand around his cock, stroking up and down, finally giving himself the pleasure he'd had to hold back for so many days. He loved obeying Doctor Lecter, but that didn't mean it wasn't hard to keep his hands away. A warm, pleasant buzz filled his gut, his body blossoming with pleasure.

"Wake. Stop touching. Your mind is a little more aware now."

Will had no choice but to stop. The warmth was leaving. The pleasure was escaping. He needed to touch again, to be mindless. Simple. 

"It's easier for you to drop for me. You like it much better than being told to wake." 

A second of bliss that was then ripped away. Will let out a whimper. 

"As I tell you to drop again, every thought leaves your mind as you stroke. Stroke your cock. Stroke your thoughts away. Your entire mind is just a blank puddle. Mindless and obedient."

Static. Drop. Stroke. Static. Drop. Stroke. Static. Drop. Stroke. Will moaned. The pleasure was building.

"Wake. No touching."

"No," Will keened as all the good feelings faded. 

"Oh, yes, Will. You know not to defy me."

"Obey Doctor Lecter."

"Good boy. Waking is uncomfortable." As Doctor Lecter spoke, Will wanted nothing more than to be mindless for him. He wanted to be -

"Drop."

Static. Drop. Stroke. Static. Drop. Stroke. Static. Drop. Stroke. Building, building...

"Does that feel good, Will?"

"Yes, sir. So good." He grit his teeth. "So good."

"You're safe here, in trance. You're completely safe. It's nice and warm here, and there is no obligation. No responsibility. No anxiety. You can be happy here, can't you?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Wake. Wake."

Right when he was on the edge, he had to stop. He cried out in agony, eyes welling with tears from staring at Doctor Lecter's cock without blinking. 

"Tell me a fantasy you have, Will. Tell me what you thought about in that bathroom that made you come."

Will's hips bucked rhythmically in the air, cock desperate for stimulation. "I..." He panted. "I want to serve you. I want you to serve me. I want to drain the life from someone and cover my hands with their blood and leave the prints on your back. I want to worship you and serve your cock. I want you to worship me." He bit his lip. "Please let me suck your cock, Doctor Lecter."

"Soon, Will. Very soon. Drop."

Static. Drop. Stroke. Static. Drop. Cock. Stroke. Static. Drop-cock. Stroke. Drop for cock. Stroke. Drop for cock. Cock. Doctor Lecter's cock.

"Do you want to come, Will?"

"So close...cock. Doctor Lecter's cock. Obey Doctor Lecter."

"Good. This is just what I wanted, dear Will. You love my cock, don't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you love trance, don't you? It feels so warm and nice."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Very good. You're going to wake one more time."

Will stopped touching. His cock was soaked with precum, his hands glossy and his body dripping with sweat. 

"Please," he begged. "Please!"

"You're not going to come until you do what you're made to do." Hannibal straightened his posture and lowered his trousers more. "Come here and suck my cock."

Will lunged like a hound desperate for a treat. His lips and mouth were already slick with drool and saliva, and he immediately took Doctor Lecter's cock in his mouth without any hesitation. He knelt on the ground, pants around his ankles, and let Doctor Lecter thrust into his mouth. The head graced the back of his throat, the scent of musk traveling all the way through his nose. It was intoxicating. He was dizzy off Hannibal's scent alone: expensive cologne and musk and arousal and ecstasy and...

He had to serve this cock. He wrapped his lips perfectly around it and let himself be fucked, let himself be used. His cheeks hollowed around Doctor Lecter, and he basked in every second of it. 

"You're doing so well," Doctor Lecter panted, gripping Will's curls and yanking his head back and forth against his cock. "So well. When I come...you're going to swallow it. I'm going to keep speaking to you, but just...focus on pleasing me, alright? It's nothing you need to...pay attention to. Your mind will understand."

Will didn't pay attention. It was easy to let his mind melt away and just focus on not gagging. He had to serve this cock to the best of his ability. He would always think about this cock. Seeing it would immediately make him mindless and happy.

"I'm going to come," Doctor Lecter said, and Will was euphoric. He could do this forever. 

Doctor Lecter grunted, and as he released Will gulped it down. It was salty and bitter on his tongue, but it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. 

"Keep kneeling there and stroke until you come," Doctor Lecter commanded between satisfied breaths. He pulled up his trousers and got up, standing over him. "You've earned it."

It didn't take long. Will was so horny, so full of mindless pleasure, that he came nearly instantly. His body sagged, and he sank to the floor and lay on his side. 

"Are you alright, Will?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter. Tired..."

"You may need some real rest." Hannibal watched him from above; even he was surprised with how well the fractionation techniques worked today. Sexual pleasure was such a powerful trance deepener. Such an easy thing to link with trance, making trance so much more appealing. 

"Do you have anywhere to be within the next two hours, Will?"

"No, Doctor Lecter."

"Alright, then. I think you should rest for about forty-five minutes before I send you home. Even if I wake you, you'll be disoriented." Hannibal went to his desk and retrieved a few tissues, handing them to Will. "Clean yourself up and get dressed. I'll get you some water."

He got Will a bottle, which he downed half of, then helped him off the floor and led him to the chaise lounge. He eased Will into it, helping him lay down, and ran his fingers through Will's curls as he spoke. 

"You're going to rest now," Hannibal said. "When I snap my fingers, you are going to fall into a deep sleep until the alarm I set goes off. When you wake, you will have no coherent memory of what happened during this trance. You will believe that we spoke of your sexual fantasies and nothing else. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." Will's eyes were already struggling to stay open. 

"Good." He gently wiped some of the sweat from Will's forehead. "You've done very well."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Will. I look forward to the next time." 

Hannibal snapped his fingers by Will's ear, and Will sank.

~~~

Will woke curled up on his side, his jacket bunched under his head as a makeshift pillow. He was on an uncomfortable couch, his clothes wrinkled and his head pounding. His mouth was dry.

An alarm blared from across the room, and he rubbed his eyes. A rustling sounded from nearby, and within a few blinks, Hannibal was standing over him.

"You're awake," Hannibal said, his tone somewhere between an observation and a command. "How are you?"

"What...what happened?" The events of the session were hazy at best. He remembered talking about blood. Feeling aroused, wondering what Hannibal's cock looked like. But he couldn't recall any details. 

"The details are on the tape, if you wish to watch. But we spoke of some of your fantasies, and I wrote down what you said. You handled it well, but you were very deep. I decided to let you rest and wake up gradually rather than get in the car groggy."

Will furrowed his brow. Hannibal's concern for his safety, along with his simultaneous manipulation, was hard to decipher. "I appreciate that," he said. "But something tells me that's not the whole truth."

"The camera was rolling. You are welcome to take it with you, or I can put it on another drive. But I couldn't give that to you until next time."

Every part of Will told him he should watch, but he also didn't know if he was ready to. Still, he'd learned his lesson about embarrassment; it was likely implanted as a mechanism of preventing him from exploring further. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. 

"I'll take the camera," he said. "And I'll be sure to bring it back for next time."

"That sounds alright to me. I hope you get what you want from it."

"I'm sure you already got what you wanted," Will said before he could stop himself. Hannibal's expression didn't crack for a single second, exposing nothing about the validity of the statement. 

Will couldn't stand the sight of him. Will wanted to consume him.

"...You're lucky I'm letting you do this," he said, gathering his jacket and rising. He was clear enough to drive, so he was getting the hell out of here. "Letting it get to this point."

Hannibal tilted his head, a curious glint in his eye. "I could say the same thing about you."

Will drove in silence the whole way home. His throat was sore. 

Chapter Text

"We matched the tissues from the crime scene to your daughter's medical records."

Jocelyn Madchen sat with her shoulders hunched forward, a weak defense against Will and Jack sitting across from her. She had nothing to feel guilty about, not legally, but it was clear the weight of her supposed moral failings were destroying her. 

"I was almost relieved when I got that phone call," she said. "I thought that you had found her and she was, um...she would be at peace."

"You thought she might be dead?"

Jocelyn let out a humorless giggle. "Well, that makes me sound like a horrible mother."

Will looked down at the desk. In these cases, it was best to stay silent. He didn't know the situation well. 

"I tried to do everything I could," she continued. "I just don't want her to be in pain."

"No one's doubting your dedication to your daughter, Mrs. Madchen," Will replied. It didn't seem to make her feel any better.

"How well did she know Beth LeBeau?" Jack asked, ready to get back to the case at hand. 

"They were best friends. They went to school together, um...until it was unsafe for Georgia to go to school."

"When did you first recognize that your daughter was struggling with mental illness?"

"When she was nine and she told me that she was thinking about killing me," Jocelyn said with no emotion in her voice, "and said that she was already dead."

Will furrowed his brow. "What sort of symptoms did she have?"

"She had seizures, hallucinations, psychotic depression. I was grateful when she was catatonic."

"Was she ever violent?" Jack asked.

"Sometimes."

Will was more focused on the medical aspects. They held a painful similarity to his own experiences, before Hannibal had been oh-so gracious enough to decide to help him. "What did her doctor say?"

"Not much. She spent months at a time in the hospital. Blood tests and brain scans, and all of them inconclusive. They could never tell me what was wrong."

While she spoke, Jack had slid a photograph across the table to Will. Georgia smiled up at him from her kitchen, a beaming blonde who seemingly had a perfectly sane mind. Her hair was much different from the dark, straight sheet that her mother had.

"And you still don't know?" he asked.

Another smile that didn't reach her eyes. She shook her head. "They would just say it was this, or it was that. You know, they were just...they were just always guessing." Her voice began to waver as tears filled her eyes. "And I did my own research. I wrote down every word that the doctors said, the different terminology. Learned a lot. But mostly what I learned is, um...how little is actually known about mental illness."

It took a lot of effort for Will to keep his emotions off of his face. He usually didn't have a problem with that. He looked back down at the photo to hide his eyes.

"All they know, it's rarely about finding solutions." Jocelyn shrugged. "It's just more about managing expectations." 

Managing expectations. Will closed his eyes for a moment. He went through the same things when he was ill, although with less doctors. Hannibal had been the only one he trusted-- he was a friend, he was a colleague. If he believed nothing was wrong, if he kept quiet despite Will's obvious symptoms, then Will trusted nothing was wrong. It was clear Hannibal knew what he was talking about, so Will had expected him to take good care of his patient.

Those expectations had been wrong. Hannibal had done the exact opposite of what he was supposed to do, and Will had suffered the consequences. It was only thanks to his strange sexual fantasies that couldn't wait a moment longer that he was much steadier today.

It was unsettling to consider. If he hadn't let his mind wander while watching Hannibal work in the ambulance, if he had stayed on the scene instead of running off to take care of his urges, would Hannibal have let him continue to rot? It seemed likely. 

Will couldn't trust him. Any chance of a normal relationship with Hannibal was now gone. Hannibal claimed this current approach was helpful in discovering the true nature of his desires, but Will knew something else was simmering under the surface. Hannibal was surely keeping secrets, and Will couldn't expect him to be entirely open. He was a master at manipulation, and anything he said had to be taken with a grain of salt. 

Will couldn't expect anything good to come out of these sessions. His true self was being discovered, sure, but at what cost? He was giving his mind over to Hannibal willingly this time, and Hannibal was doing whatever he wanted with it. 

So that was settled. There was no reason for him to keep going. It was only going to cause harm in the long run.

So why couldn't he embrace that decision? Why was it so, so difficult to want to go? Hannibal's manipulation, for the most part, but also the devilish part of his own brain that craved Hannibal's attention more than anything. It craved to let go, to be dominated, to be utterly useless for a little while. He always worked a million miles an hour, so it made sense that he would want to unwind like that. 

A subconscious desire made stronger by mental manipulation on Hannibal's part. Will figured that applied in multiple avenues.

It was up to him now to choose what to accept. 

~~~

Will had no idea when Hannibal had stripped him of his clothes; all he knew was that when he woke, he was naked and hard and covered in cum. He sat in an unfamiliar bed, and his hips moved of their own volition — mindlessly thrusting as something wet and warm brushed against his cock. He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. It was impossible to stop.

Hannibal was underneath him, a satisfied smirk on his face. Will's hands rested on Hannibal's warm shoulders, and as Hannibal wrapped his legs around Will's waist Will realized what was happening. He was fucking Hannibal. He couldn't stop fucking Hannibal.

"This is what I can do to your mind, Will," Hannibal said. "Do you remember how you got here?"

No, Will wanted to say. No, all I remember is asking what you were doing to me. What you were doing to my mind. And now I'm here.

None of those words came out. All that came out was a weak "no, Doctor Lecter." They were the only words his mouth knew how to form.

"Good. You love fucking me, don't you?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." Automatic. Effortless. Agreeing brought a huge sense of a relief, a cool relaxation that made it easier to just keep thrusting. A rhythmic movement that shut Will's brain off in just the right way.

"Good. Back to sleep you go." Hannibal snapped his fingers, and Will's awareness seeped out of his ears. His muscles gave way, and all he could do was thrust. Hannibal's moans made the relaxation, the relief, the ecstasy, even more prominent, like pleasing him was the most powerful aphrodisiac.

"You will only come when I do," Hannibal said. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Good. Stroke me."

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." Will's hand was drawn to Hannibal's cock like a magnet. He began to stroke up and down, and Hannibal's moans of pleasure intensified. Hannibal's massive, beautiful cock was hypnotic in itself; staring at it made Will feel complete. The only thing he was made to do was pleasure that cock. 

"Sleep." Another snap, and Will moaned. He began to thrust in time with his strokes until he didn't know where his cock ended and Doctor Lecter's began. No matter what, Doctor Lecter was feeling pleasure, and that's what mattered. The need to come was building up inside of him, but he had to listen to the commands.

"I'm going to come," Doctor Lecter said. "Oh, Will, I'm going to come."

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." Will moved faster, panting. "Oh. Yes. Doctor. Lecter."

"That's a good boy." Doctor Lecter's cock was so perfect. Will couldn't wait to dedicate his life to serving it. That was all he was made to do. "Oh, it's happening. Come with me."

In an instant, the scene around Will faded, and his eyes shot open. The room was dark, and he was alone, but the feeling didn't fade. His cock was hard, and with a single brush against the sheets he let out a long moan as he began to spill over. It felt so, so good. His eyes fluttered closed, and his lips uttered a soft Doctor Lecter as he finished. 

Before any clarity even had the chance to strike him, a low growl from across the room startled him out of his thoughts. He raised his head. Zoe, one of the littler dogs, had shifted out of her bed and had her gaze fixed on Will's bed. 

"Sorry, Zoe," Will muttered, pushing himself into a sitting position. "You can go back to bed."

She didn't look at him. Instead, she let out a sharp bark, moving toward the bed. Will looked over at the clock-- midnight sharp-- and shifted to see what she was focused on. Her eyes were fixed on a spot under the bed, and Will thought back to the moment in the abandoned house. A bolt of paranoia ran through him, and he slowly leaned over the side of the bed to get a peek. 

When he was about halfway down, something unmistakably moved in the dark space beneath his mattress. His heart lurched, and he moved without thinking. In one swift movement, he rolled out of bed and onto the floor, stomach pressed to the hardwood. 

A strange, almost inhuman face peered at him from the darkness. Georgia Madchen was dirty and unkempt, and she had a large nose and lips that cast shadows across her cheeks. Her hair was filthy, and she had her hands folded by her head like she was trying to sleep peacefully. 

"I see you, Georgia," Will said softly, forgetting the embarrassment of being caught in a wet dream by this intruder. 

Georgia looked confused. She tilted her head like an animal. 

"Think of who you are." Will stared intently into her eyes. Slowly, he inched forward, refusing to make any sudden movements. The only thing he could think of was the grounding technique Hannibal had taught him in the throes of his illness-- perhaps because of the dream-- and Will figured it was a necessary evil. Once in a blue moon, Hannibal would give him something useful. 

"It's midnight," he said, his voice an intense whisper. "You're in Wolf Trap, Virginia. Your name is Georgia Madchen. You're not alone. We are here together."

The slight moonlight through the window illuminated Georgia's eyes, and they were glassy. She blinked, a small amount of sense coming to her. 

"...Am I alive?" Her voice was gravelly with disuse. 

Will opened his mouth, but she moved before he could speak. Slowly, she began to reach out her hand, a silent call for help. 

Will took it. A single tear ran down Georgia's face.

~~~

"What went through your mind when you saw Georgia Madchen underneath your bed?"

Shockingly, Will and Hannibal were having a normal session. The two of them sat across from each other, heads tilted as they listened to each other. They were on even playing ground now. Their minds were clear. Either one of them had an equal chance to manipulate the other. 

For that exact reason, Will's hackles were raised higher than normal. Hannibal was most dangerous when Will was perfectly sentient; at least when Will was under his power, Hannibal was motivated primarily by sex. He was predictable. Now, they had to engage in a battle of wills, and Hannibal would have to use even stronger manipulation tactics than he would have to if Will was stunted. 

"I knew I had to help her," Will replied. He wasn't going to disclose the dream to Hannibal. It wouldn't do anything. "I...saw a connection between the two of us. She and I went through somewhat similar things. She went through it to a worse extent, but...the parallels are there."

"In that both of you have struggled with mental illness?"

"What I had wasn't mental illness. You know that perfectly well."

"But you believed it was. For a little while."

"We were both denied care by doctors who didn't know or care to find out what was happening to us," Will snapped in return, "or, in my case, you didn't give enough of a shit about me to fix me."

Hannibal blinked. "I care about you, Will," he said. "I always have."

"The things you did to me do not constitute care. They do not constitute friendship." Will narrowed his eyes. "You've done nothing but put me in danger."

"It was an act of self-preservation, before I realized that perhaps you had greater potential than that." Hannibal smirked. "You are capable of much more than being a scapegoat."

"I'm glad to know you see me that way," Will replied spitefully. "Makes me feel important."

"You're capable of beautiful things, Will, and you are already performing very well. You have made wonderful progress in your therapy."

"In that my brain is almost melted enough for you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No melting necessary. You are perfectly rational and sane, Will. I am only diving into parts of your mind that already exist within you. You are capable of breaking free at any time."

"Not when you've fostered this sense of codependency. Not when you're changing my brain in this way, making me want to focus on nothing but satisfying you."

"You have a resilient, intelligent mind. If you decide you no longer wish to do this, you're perfectly able to."

"But that doesn't matter if you're changing my wishes."

"I ask you every session of your wishes. You always state that you're consenting to this, and that you want to be under my power."

Will swallowed. "I don't know what's worse: the idea that I'm entirely consenting to this, or the thought of you coercing me into it against my will."

"I know which one I prefer." Hannibal smirked. "And it correlates with the more likely situation." He leaned forward in his chair. "Now, Will. You're going to tell me a desire that's going through your head right now, without a single thought of morality or what might be the 'right' thing to do. Do you understand?"

The urge to confess hit Will like he was under a spell. This was therapy, after all; he was supposed to tell Doctor Lecter what he was thinking. 

"I...I just want to let go," he said. "I've been thinking about letting go for a while now. I need to let go and let my mind melt away. I need to serve. I just want to serve Doctor Lecter."

Once it was out of his mouth, the fog cleared, and he grunted in frustration. 

"No, Will, that's good." Hannibal nodded. "Your therapy is a space for you to discuss what's going through your mind. Now, why don't you sleep and drop and sink for me, and we'll talk about it more?"

A series of snaps, and Will was tired of fighting. His eyes glazed over, and he was gone.

Chapter Text

"You expressed the desire to let go. Can you tell me more about that?"

It was clear that Will was torn between two sides of himself. Part of him was desperately clawing at sentience, trying to keep himself awake and alert to avoid being manipulated any further, but the stronger part was dying to give in. His lids fluttered open and shut, brow furrowing with the effort, but Hannibal knew how to help him. After all, that's what Will needed: to be helped. To be saved from a nagging, racing mind that only caused him stress. 

"Do you have to be anywhere after our session today, Will?"

"N-No."

"Then we're going to take a little bit longer today. And you can stay after to rest. You're going to need it. Is that alright with you?"

"I...yeah."

"Good. Now, it's time for you to go much deeper."

"I..." Will inhaled sharply as his lids shot open for a moment. 

"Sleep. Sleep, Will."

They sank back down again, weaker than before. The moments of coherence became fewer and farther between.

"I know those eyes are heavy, Will. Close them for me."

Will did. He leaned his head against the back of his chair.

"If you really wish to give in and let go, then you must listen to me. You must listen to my voice and obey what I tell you. Do you understand?"

"Yes." His voice was soft. His body was heavy and warm.

"Do you want this, Will? Do you want to continue to be under my power, to continue your training into serving me sexually?"

"Yes. Please." Will nodded.

"Do you want to be aware of your training, or would you prefer I keep as much of it hidden as possible?"

"Hide."

"Good. Now, can you answer my question? Can you tell me about your desire to let go?"

"My...my mind does so many things. If I don't get a break, it might kill me." Without any further triggers or sexual stimulation, Will was much more coherent than he would normally be under hypnosis. Hannibal didn't plan on things staying that way for long. "I have to give it a break."

"What does your mind do, Will?"

"It suspects you."

Hannibal blinked. "I was under the impression that there was no need for speculation anymore. You seem to have your mind made up about me. About who I am."

"I know what you are," Will said, "but I don't know if I can trust you."

"I only want what's best for you."

"You want what you think is best for me. Whether it's actually best...that's debatable." Will's eyes remained closed, but his characteristic snark was still there. It was one thing Hannibal liked about Will, but he also couldn't wait to wipe it all away. Reduce him to a trembling mess.

"If I am what you say I am, then an outsider would say you cannot trust me." He crossed his legs. "What do you think of that notion?"

"I'm not an outsider."

"That's certainly true." Hannibal nodded. "Do you hold a different opinion, then?"

"I don't trust you. But that's what gives me more motivation to...keep going."

"You disregard the risk to enjoy the reward. Is there a reward you have in mind, or does the thrill of the risk stimulate you in some manner? Emotionally, physically?"

"Sexually."

"Giving in to a dangerous figure excites you sexually."

"No. To you."

"Why me, Will?" Hannibal stood, holding back a smirk as he approached Will in his chair. "What do I offer you that others cannot?"

"Actual blood on your hands."

"There's a good boy," Hannibal said lowly, raking his fingers through Will's curls before suddenly gripping them, yanking at the roots. Will let out a small whimper. "I'm going to really offer you the chance to let go. Every moment of cogent thought in this session will be a personal victory. We're going to take an important step in your training, and you're going to follow my instructions, do you understand?"

"Y-Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Good. There's a very good boy for me." Hannibal let go of Will's hair, leaning close to his ear. "Are you going to behave like a good slave should?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Good. Drop. Sink." Two snaps. "Remember what we've learned before? Being in trance is so much better than being awake. So, so much better. Tell me what you've learned."

Will's body sank deeper into the leather chair. "I love to be in trance. I love to obey."

"Good boy. Right now, you're a little too coherent for my liking. We're going to have to drain that brain of yours if we want to make any progress."

He tugged at the collar of Will's shirt. "Open your sleepy eyes and take this off. Take everything off, in fact, and get on your knees."

Will didn't hesitate. The sight of his naked body was always a marvel. His cock was already hardening, and so was Hannibal's. His eyes were glazed and happy.

"How does that feel? You like wearing nothing, don't you?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Good. Let's see if your brain remembers your training, or if we'll have to try again." Hannibal slipped off his belt and removed his trousers and underwear, exposing his excited cock. "What do you think of this, Will?"

Will stared at it, shoulders sagging, and after a moment he spoke. "I serve Doctor Lecter's cock."

"That's very good. You exist to serve my cock, don't you? But that's not as far as I would like you to go." Hannibal migrated back to his own chair, sitting and watching Will's gaze mindlessly follow his cock. "I want your slave brain to activate the moment you see my cock, whether you're awake or not. I want it to make you immediately spring into action. And we can certainly do that, but it will take a bit of time." He licked his lips. "Let's focus on solidifying what we have now, and then we will move forward, alright?"

Will nodded. A small bubble of drool appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"Let yourself drool. Let it go wherever you need to. You're not smart enough to know how to swallow your own drool. You are not going to look away from my cock for one second, do you understand? Focus on it. Stare at it, as deeply as you can. Come a little closer if you need to."

Will inched forward on his knees, eyes fixated on Hannibal's cock.

"Good. Now, whenever you find yourself aroused, you might notice your body's instinctual processes kicking in. Your entire body wants to relax, including your face. Your jaw going slack. You're feeling that now. Sleep."

Will's mouth dropped further open. 

"Good. And the longer you stare at my cock, the more aroused you find yourself becoming. Staring at my cock gives you so much pleasure, so much arousal. And that desire is like a warm glow inside your chest, inside your mind, spreading through your whole body. You can feel it materializing now, melting your muscles and working its way up to your brain. The longer it shines in that head of yours, the more you can feel your mind melting away. The longer you stare, the more mindless you get. The more blissful you are."

Will blinked slowly, a string of drool escaping his parted lips. Hannibal smiled. 

"Stare. Stare and drop. Your mind is melting, oozing away. All you know is arousal. Every drop of drool that comes out of your mouth is another part of your mind escaping you. Every drop makes you sink further into trance. Soon, you'll have nothing left."

He was so beautiful this way. His body would make Greek gods lament. His beautiful mind was finally getting a break, and it was so blissful for him. Hannibal loved to be the one to provide that. He loved being the one Will was indebted to. The one Will thought about when he was aroused.

"With every number I count down, from ten to one, you're going to feel even more mindless. Another portion of your brain will trickle away like water from a fountain spout. Do you understand?" Will nodded. "Good. Starting with ten, nine, eight...drop, Will. Seven, six, five, four, sleep, three, two, sink, and...one. Drop."

With each snap, Will's body twitched and his head slumped farther down. Hannibal loved this feeling, the power that came with each sharp click that reverberated through the office. Will was utterly under his power. Just one little click of his fingers turned an intelligent man into a drooling, naked mess, and that was the most beautiful thing in the world. 

"Someone looks sleepy," Hannibal remarked, smirking. "Are you feeling nice and dumb for me?"

"Y-Yes, Do...Doctor Lecter." Will was hardly able to get the words out. 

"Good. We're going to make you ten times more blank, and you're going to pleasure me while you do it. I control you, do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." The words were hardly intelligible under Will's heavy, slack jaw and the drool between his lips. He was going to be a wonderful subject. He could feel his own cock growing hard, and Will's had been erect for a long time. He was going to keep Will waiting, though. His main focus should be pleasuring a master, not himself. 

"Good. Come closer to my cock. You're going to follow my instructions carefully."

Will inched closer on his knees and tilted his head forward, staring intently at Hannibal's cock. His mouth was watering, starving for it. 

"Start slowly. Brush your lips against the tip, let your tongue circle the head. I know you want to dive in, to take me inside your mouth and pleasure me, but you're going to take it a moment at a time. That's what I want, so that's what will happen."

Will obeyed. He leaned in, soft, moist lips brushing against the tip of Hannibal's cock. He cherished it, worshiped it like he was supposed to. That's what good slaves did. 

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Hannibal said, holding back hums of pleasure. He didn't want to give Will the satisfaction yet. "Your purpose is to serve my cock, and that's what you're doing. You feel so relaxed, so nice, when you fulfill your purpose."

Will licked the tip, moaning in blissful pleasure. It was only going to get better from here. 

"Keep listening to me. The more you suck my cock, the better you feel. The happier I am, the happier you are. Now take the tip into your mouth. Suck on just the very end. Enjoy the taste."

Will did, and Hannibal exhaled. He was clearly still a beginner; Hannibal was likely the first man he'd ever pleasured in this way. Hannibal couldn't have asked for anything better. 

"That's very good. You love my cock. It makes you so warm, so happy. Focus on your mouth, not your brain. Right now, your brain is gone. You don't have one anymore."

His eyes were blank. There was not a single thought in that pretty mind. A drop of sweat ran down his temple.

"Take more of it now. Go slowly, do what you are comfortable with. But move slowly downward, taking more of my cock in your mouth. Go as deep as you can, then up again. Start sucking."

Will's lips were slick, and he was able to take most of Hannibal's length. It was rather impressive. When he moved back up, Hannibal sighed with delight. 

"That's very good. Every time my cock hits the back of your throat, a wave of bliss runs through you. Just pure submission and pleasure. You want it to hit the back. You want to suck."

Will picked up the pace. Hannibal had to fight through grunts to speak coherently. 

"That's such a good boy, Will. You're doing amazing. Pleasuring me is your only purpose. The deeper you suck, the deeper you fall. There are no thoughts here. Just pleasure. Just bliss. Empty and obedient. My cock fucks whatever's left of your mind away. Feel it fuck away your brains."

Will ground his hips against the floor, eyes rolling back in his head. He was glistening with sweat. glowing under the office lights. Such a wonderful sight. 

"The moment my cum hits your tongue, there will be no going back. You will never be able to forget that taste. You will crave it like a parched man craves water. And any time you see my cock, whether awake or in trance, that craving will become impossible to ignore. Your mind will switch off, and your brain will ooze out of your ears again, and you will become my slave. Do you understand? If you understand, then start sucking faster. Make me come to show me you're a well-behaved slut."

When Will moved to his full potential, Hannibal couldn't speak anymore. He relished in the sight of Will's sweat-soaked face, his beautiful curls sticking to his forehead, his fluttering eyelids showing only the whites. His broad, muscular chest, the gurgles coming from his throat, his red, swollen lips. Hannibal saved that exact face in his mind. He wanted to sketch it, to hang it where he could always see it, to make copies and send it to Will and watch what happened in his subconscious. Would seeing it make him want to return to it? 

"Oh, fuck," he cried out. "Will. Such a good slave, you're going to make me...oh, God."

He thrust his hips against Will's face, fucking his mouth. His entire body shuddered in an orgasm, and Will cried out in desperation. Hannibal watched his throat bob as he swallowed the cum, then pulled his mouth away to lick every last drop from the tip as it spilled out. He lapped it up like an obedient dog. 

"That's so good. Stay deep for me, stay desperate," Hannibal panted. "Sleep. Sink." His trembling hands made his snaps weak, but it was enough. Will sat back on his haunches, tongue still out, gaze blank. 

"You're addicted to that feeling," Hannibal said. "You may be normal in your daily life, but seeing my cock turns you into something entirely different. This slut, this obedient sex slave. You love it."

"I serve Doctor Lecter," Will said. His hips twitched, and he began to hump the air. 

"Good. Now, Will, there's something I would like to know. We've spent many sessions toying with your cock. Have you ever been intimate with a man?"

"Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal smiled softly. "Other than me?"

"No, Doctor Lecter."

"Have you ever experienced a prostate orgasm?"

"No, Doctor Lecter."

"Have you ever experimented with anything inside your ass? Even fingers?"

"No, Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal pulled up his boxers and stood. "That's alright. You and I are going to work through this together. We will make you into a good, susceptible subject. Then you'll be able to pleasure me in any way I wish. Doesn't that make you happy?"

Will's face seemed to brighten a little. "Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Good boy." Hannibal rifled through his bag. He'd started bringing lube to their sessions; he figured it was better to be prepared than regretful. "We may not be able to go all the way today. Don't fret if you cannot handle it." He stood over Will's kneeling form and took one of his hands, flicking open the bottle with his free one.

"I'm going to put this on your fingers, and you're going to stretch yourself out one finger at a time. You can follow my words, my instructions, and you won't have to worry about a thing. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." Will swallowed; Hannibal could tell his nerves were peeking through a little. He poured lube on the fingers of Will's right hand, then rubbed them to coat the skin with it. 

"No need to be worried. I will not be disappointed in you, no matter the outcome. And this may get a little messy, but I'm not worried about any of it. Don't let it distract you." 

He circled around to Will's backside to get a better view. "Get on all fours."

Will did. Hannibal followed his muscled thighs, watching them flex as he shifted. When he spread his legs, Hannibal got the first glimpse of his hole, and he immediately saw droves of potential from it. He couldn't wait to fuck it raw, to show Will what it was like to nearly black out from pleasure. 

"One finger to start. Index. It should be easy enough, but take your time."

It took a moment, but then the finger slid in up to the first knuckle. Then the second. Then the third. Will inhaled sharply. 

"That's good. There you go, such a good slave. Play around with it a bit. Circle the rim, thrust it in and out if you want. How does that feel?"

"G-Good." 

"Good. Obeying me is your only purpose, Will. Obey me and serve me. Listen carefully to what I tell you to do, and this will be the best you've ever felt in your life. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Can you put in another finger? Your middle this time?"

He was able to do it. He let out a small moan, thighs quivering. His cock was rock hard. 

"Start thrusting again. Circle the rim. Start trying to spread yourself out."

Each movement got another whimper out of him, and Hannibal cherished each one. He would have given up every classical piece of art, every taste of music, every bite of decadent food, to witness this for the rest of his life. 

One particular thrust made Will's entire body clench, and he let out a loud cry of excitement. Hannibal smiled. 

"You found something good, didn't you? See how amazing this feels?"

"Y-Yes, Doctor Lecter. Oh..."

"Three fingers."

Will tried, but he let out a small gasp of pain. Hannibal figured it was best not to push it; he didn't want the residual pain to be too severe. It would make Will suspicious later.

"Stop. You can stick with two. You've done plenty well today. Do you think you could make yourself come with just this?"

"I obey Doctor Lecter."

"That's very good. Keep thrusting. Find the good spot again. But do it slowly."

Another moan. Will slowly thrust his fingers in and out of himself, more sweat trailing down the hollows of his back. Hannibal ran his hand along Will's spine, taking in his warm, soft skin. 

"So wonderful." He got down onto the floor with Will and pulled down his boxers again. Will became fixated on Hannibal's cock, his eyes glazing over as he continued to thrust. "Stare at my cock. You're going to realize how much pleasure Doctor Lecter gives you. How happy it makes you to submit. Aren't you happy right now, Will?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter." Will swooned. 

"Keep staring. One day soon, you will have my cock inside you instead of your fingers. It will be one of the final steps of your training." He reached for Will's cock, taking it in one of his hands without shifting too much. Will gasped. "You thrust. I will stroke. There's no sense in only giving you the one sensation, I've realized. You're going to come."

It took, at most, fifteen seconds. Will let out sounds Hannibal didn't know he was capable of as all the muscles in his face tensed, mouth dropping open in a silent oh and cum spilling out of his cock. Hannibal let it drip onto his fingers, smiling as it fell.

"Beautiful. Good job."

Will pulled his hand out and collapsed onto his side, breathing heavily. Hannibal stroked his bare arm, leaning close. 

"It's alright. You've done a wonderful job. A very, very good job, Will. You should be proud of yourself."

His body still shook with residual pleasure. Hannibal gave him a peck on the cheek, licking his lips to enjoy the salt of Will's sweat. "I told you you were going to need rest. Now is the time for that." 

He helped Will to his feet and guided him over to the couch, which took more effort than it normally would have. Will's legs were shaking, and he leaned against Hannibal for support. When Hannibal finally laid him on top of a towel, he sank into the cushions, and Hannibal gave him another towel to drape on top of him. Gently, he dried the sweat and cum from Will's skin and helped him slip his underwear back on. With each moment, Will grew a little more awake, but there was still a thick cloud where his mind should have been.

As Hannibal cleaned Will's fingers with alcohol wipes, he considered his next moves. He could have done his best to hide what they'd gone through, but there wouldn't be a point. Hypnosis wasn't going to work that way, as much as he wished it would. Will was going to remember the things they did together; that was a certainty. Even with Will's desire to know none of what was going on, he couldn't control the way his brain clung to memories. His goal to be a completely unwitting pawn was a little unrealistic.

Instead, Hannibal had to work with specific words and triggers. Will would have to remember what they'd done, the way it made him feel. He didn't have to consciously remember his triggers. When Will expressed the desire to know nothing, to forget, that was going to be the best Hannibal could do. 

It would be fine to keep him naked. It was obvious what they'd done. He'd have to get up and wash his hands better later, and the small throbs of pain in his ass would be clear evidence. 

He'd get one more little game in before allowing Will to rest. Show him just how much power he had. 

"Will," he said, "when I snap, you're going to fully find yourself waking. You will be back to your coherent self that you were before trance. Full thoughts, full awareness. Your triggers will remain in your subconscious, but you will not remember them consciously. They can only be activated by me. You will know nothing of them until you are activated. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor Lecter."

"That's very good. I'm counting you up from one...start feeling your muscles stirring back to life. Two, your eyes are lighter. You can open them for longer. Three, your surroundings are more clear. Four, you feel mostly like yourself now. Let your body stretch a little, good. Five."

He snapped. Will blinked, body jolting, and when he got a sense of his surroundings he couldn't hold back the astonishment in his eyes. 

"Jesus Christ," he muttered. "Jesus fucking Christ."

Hannibal pulled his pants back down, then his underwear. Before Will could ask what he was doing, his gaze traveled down to Hannibal's cock, and the clarity drained from his eyes. He stared blankly at it, lips parted, and when Hannibal took a step forward Will's mouth closed around the tip of his cock. His body relaxed as he began to suck, content to fulfill his purpose. 

"Wake." Hannibal snapped, and Will came back to life in the same way he'd done before. This time, however, there was a cock in his mouth, and as his mind registered what he was doing he shifted back and forth between utter submission and wakefulness. His subconscious and conscious mind were at war. 

Eventually, Hannibal stepped back, gently pulling his cock out from between Will's lips and hiding it beneath the fabric of his boxers again. Will, eyes half-lidded, let out a sigh of relief. 

"That's so good," he moaned. "Oh, Hannibal, that's so good."

"Let yourself rest now, Will. We can discuss things once your mind has recovered more."

"That's so good. That's...yes, Doctor Lecter."

"Rest now." Hannibal combed through Will's curls with his fingers. "Rest."

One more snap by Will's ear, and the session was over as Will collapsed into sleep. 

Hannibal couldn't have been more proud. 

Chapter Text

"I'm only trying to help you, Will, and this is the thanks I get?"

Hannibal couldn't stop his lips from turning up despite himself. It was impossible to remain indifferent to the sight of Will's clenched teeth, the fury behind his blue eyes as he hovered above Hannibal on the office floor. Will's shirt dangled off of him, unbuttoned, the inside pocket still turned outward from him hastily yanking the pocketknife out from its hidden spot. One wrong move, and Hannibal would end up with its blade piercing his arteries. He was sure Will could feel the soft spot in his neck pulsing with an excited heartbeat.

"You're not helping me," Will growled. His chest was still soaked with sweat from their activities earlier. "You're fucking ruining me."

"I have done nothing that you didn't ask for."

"You made me ask for it. You're turning me into someone who...who enjoys this. You're a sick motherfucker."

"I believe your original words were, 'Hypnotherapy wouldn't be a good idea because it arouses me.' Am I remembering that correctly?"

Will's upper lip curled. They'd been in this office for hours; he took a nap for about an hour after their session, and Hannibal eased him back into wakefulness. While Will groggily slipped his arms into his shirt, Hannibal knelt to help him get the underwear and pants back on. That's when Will had lunged, retrieving his weapon from inside his shirt and kneeing Hannibal in the chest, sending them both tumbling to the floor. Will straddled him now, clutching the knife with white knuckles, wearing nothing but his shirt and underwear, his jeans around his ankles.

"It doesn't matter what I said. What matters is you're exploiting me. Taking advantage of me in a vulnerable position. You've crossed a fucking line."

"You've been aware of everything we've done. You watched the films. I have no desire to make you completely forget things. When was the line crossed? Today?"

"I never should have let you do this in the first place. I should have known you were going to take it in some evil route. You couldn't get me sick, so instead you're going to melt my brain another way. Make me so dependent on you that I can't turn you in, is that it?"

"Do you wish to turn me in?"

"I wish I could kill you and get away with it." He pushed the blade just a little deeper. It stung against the thin, fragile skin of Hannibal's neck. Even apex predators had vital arteries that were susceptible to damage. 

"If you wished to, I would let you. The worst thing a psychiatrist can do is stifle a patient's potential." 

Will shook his head, scoffing. "You're impossible. Absolutely impossible."

"You are welcome to stop this treatment at any time you'd like. The only reason I'm continuing is because you've asked me to, and we've gotten some good results out of it."

"What results? What have we even learned?'

"You came into this wanting to learn more about yourself. About your true self, the desires you have festering within you that your conscious mind is too afraid to acknowledge. We figured hypnotherapy would be a good way to coax them out of your unconscious mind by lowering inhibition. Is that correct?"

"I...yes. I know that part. Don't patronize me."

"We've learned a substantial amount about your desires. You have explicitly told me multiple times that sexual service, or in some cases full sexual slavery, is arousing to you. You express interest in being completely unaware that you are being brainwashed, which I'm afraid isn't fully possible. As much as someone may want hypnosis to work that way, it's not going to."

Will's cheeks turned pink. "It's just a fantasy. It's not something I would actually want."

"In that case, we are going to have to be more communicative about what is a fantasy and what you truly wish to bring into reality. If what we are doing goes against your boundaries of consent, I'm going to terminate this treatment right away. If unawareness is only a fantasy, we're lucky it doesn't work that way. Otherwise, I would have tried it and breached your consent because I wasn't aware of what was a fantasy and what was not. That being said, which parts do you wish to keep only to fantasy?"

"It shouldn't matter, since you say hypnosis can't make me do anything I don't want to do." 

"That is true. But I also want to refrain from even broaching the topics you are uncomfortable with. I don't want to bother giving the command if it's something you're even a little hesitant about doing. Just in case your brain begins to work on autopilot and you cannot stop yourself."

"You're trying to protect me one moment, and then you're letting a potentially fatal sickness develop for your own benefit the next."

"You're an intelligent man, Will. You were bound to learn the truth one way or another. It was merely self-preservation against a credible threat."

"I don't give a fuck about if you wanted to eliminate a threat. If that was all you'd done, then sure, self-preservation. But you can't turn around and pretend to care about me the moment I break free from it."

"It's not pretending. I am attempting to make amends and move on from what I've done. I saw an intelligent man with the potential to become a threat to my livelihood. I should have focused more on the parts of you that were similar to myself. The potential to be not a threat, but a great ally. Now, I am inclined to not take you for granted."

"You're not guilty that you did it, you're guilty you got caught and your victim is fighting back. Like a fucking child."

"I am not guilty at all."

"Fuck you."

"Guilt is unproductive. What good does guilt do when I could instead spend my time improving the situation?" He licked his lips. "As I said, I am no longer taking you for granted. I have realized we are equals, and I respect you enough to respect your boundaries."

Will glared down at him. "Says the man broaching millions of professional boundaries."

"Personal and professional boundaries are very different animals. Typically, I take professional boundaries very seriously. I care very little about them when it comes to you."

"Only me?" Will arched an eyebrow. "I thought you were supposed to treat all of your patients equally, Doctor."

"Not all of my patients escape to the bathroom in the middle of an emergency situation to stroke themselves and moan my name until they come." 

Will reared back, but Hannibal didn't flinch. If Will wanted to hit him, Hannibal would let it happen.

But he didn't. Will kept the knife pressed to Hannibal's throat, but with his other hand he worked at the waistband of his underwear. There was a developing bulge underneath.

"You said you've realized we're equals. You didn't see me as one before?"

"I do not feel equal to anyone I meet. They are insignificant to me until they prove themselves."

Will finally removed the knife from Hannibal's throat, dragging the blade lightly down his chest. He gestured to the buttons of Hannibal's shirt. "Take this off."

Hannibal didn't bother asking why. As he watched Will take in his bare chest, he realized this was the first time he'd actually taken his own shirt off for Will. Will was always the one stripping, the powerless one. Finally, Will was seeing the most fragile parts of Hannibal with a perfectly aware consciousness. Hannibal's only potential predator, the only worthy adversary, was no longer sedated.

"What are you thinking?" Hannibal asked.

"I can't fucking stand you," Will snarled. "I want to fuck you until you can't speak anymore."

Hannibal raised his brows. When Will was the one saying it, it could never be a threat. "You still have stamina after what we did today?"

"I'm awake this time. And I'm going to stay awake," he said, once again pressing the tip of the blade into Hannibal's neck. It didn't break the skin, but it came close. "I'm not letting you even think about snapping your damn fingers. I'm telling you I want to be awake. If you care about my boundaries so much, then honor them."

Hannibal's eyes hardened. "It's going to be difficult for you. You're going to become putty in my hands the moment you see my cock. I've been training you."

"That's not how you talk to an equal, Doctor."

"I disagree. I've fulfilled your every request. That's not something I do for just anyone."

"You're twisting my words. I didn't want things to get this far."

"Then we must break you out of your training. Bring you back to the person you want to be." Hannibal tilted his head back, letting it rest against the hard floor. "Go ahead. I will serve you. See if you can handle the sight of my cock, the sound of my moans, without falling under my control."

Will frowned. "What are you trying to prove?"

"You claim you didn't want things to get this far. If that was the case, your subconscious wouldn't allow it. You have boundaries in place. I've allowed those boundaries to remain in place, and I've told you time after time to break free if you wanted to at any point. If you really are unwilling, then this task should be easy for you. It should be easy for you to have a typical experience with me, without wanting to fall under hypnosis. If your subconscious still desires me, however..." Hannibal slowly moved his hands to his own waist, inching down his pants. "You're going to find it much more difficult."

Will didn't respond. He gripped the sides of Hannibal's pants and helped him pull them all the way down, working them off while Hannibal kicked off his shoes. Once Hannibal's cock was out, Will's eyes glazed over for a short moment, but he blinked the feeling away. 

"I suppose I should have asked earlier," Will said, "but are you expecting anyone?"

"We're all alone."

"Good. In that case, I'm not afraid to make you scream." He rested his hands under Hannibal's calves, lifting his legs up. "Since you're such a good teacher when it comes to stretching, show me how it's done. Prep yourself."

"I put the bottle on my desk."

Will pushed himself up onto his knees to grab it and tossed it down to him. "Do it."

"Is this what you thought about that evening in the hospital bathroom?" Hannibal teased as he dolloped some onto his fingers. "Or did you think about a more slow, sensual fuck? Were we covered in blood, Will?"

Will's brows lowered. "We were. And we were worshiping each other."

"A far cry from what we're currently doing, don't you think?"

"It's healthy to have variety. And I know you're still worshiping. You're obsessed with me."

Hannibal stuck two fingers inside himself, his cock hardening as he watched Will stroke his own. He was holding up surprisingly well, Hannibal thought, considering he was being faced with the trigger of Hannibal's cock. His biggest trigger was pleasure, however, and once that began to muddy his thoughts, he would be serving Hannibal in no time. Hannibal didn't consider himself a betting man, but he was determined to win this one.

"And you cannot claim you don't enjoy parts of this, as well. I tried to give you the most enjoyable experiences possible. Don't you remember the intense, beautiful pleasure I gave you? How much better it felt to be in trance?"

"I feel way better watching you squirm under the knife in my hands."

Hannibal gave himself another two, all fingers but his thumb now inside. He had much more experience than Will did. "When I envisioned our first penetration, I figured the roles would be reversed. You've pleasantly surprised me."

"You may be able to predict others, Hannibal, but you're not going to ever be able to predict me. Not entirely. I'm my own person, as much as you don't want me to be."

"Of course I want you to be your own person. I just know that sometimes, being your own person can be exhausting." He began to thrust his fingers in and out, cock fully hardened now. "I only wanted to give you a break from the anxieties and inhibitions that plague you."

Will planted his hand on Hannibal's chest and straddled him, one of Hannibal's legs resting on each side of his waist. "If I get to see you fall apart, even for just one second, it's going to be fucking amazing. I can't wait to wipe that smirk off your face."

"Take me however you wish. Let yourself go." Hannibal's heart raced. Finally, after so long, he was going to collide with Will in the most intimate way possible. Will was going to be inside of him, holding him close. It wasn't the way he'd seen things going, but this was honestly even better. He was going to watch Will melt like a candle under the heat of his control. 

After all, this was also part of his shaping, his conditioning. Before their sessions had begun, Will likely never would have followed through with his desires to take Hannibal. His inhibitions would have been much too powerful to allow him to do that. Now, however, those walls were lowered. Hypnotic conditioning had made him more confident, more willing to take control and give into his desires. That was what Hannibal craved more than anything: not an obedient pet or a sexual slave, but a man with more power and confidence than he'd ever allowed himself to have before. It was only a matter of time before that confidence translated into the same types of hobbies Hannibal himself enjoyed. 

Soon, they would be drenched in blood, worshiping each other, in the way Will wanted. Hannibal couldn't wait for that day to arrive.

The thought, along with the sudden sensation of Will's cock inside him, caused him to let out a loud moan. It was the most pleasurable feeling he'd ever experienced, after years of many sexual partners. No one compared to Will.  Not a single soul. 

He wrapped his arms and legs around Will's body, holding tightly onto him. His nails dug into Will's back, but Will didn't seem to mind. He moved slowly at first, thrusting in and out of Hannibal at a torturous pace. Hannibal bucked his hips, desperately trying to rub his needy cock against Will's skin, but Will arched himself back. 

"No," he reprimanded, like scolding a naughty hound, "I've done enough for your cock. You've had plenty. It's my turn. And it looks like you're already plenty wet." He nodded down at Hannibal's cock, which was already leaking with an exorbitant amount of pre-cum. 

Hannibal grunted. "I have hyperactive Cowper's glands."

"Well, it's cute. It makes you look real desperate." Will smirked, picking up the pace a little. "I think you're forgetting who has the real power here, Hannibal."

Hannibal moaned. Will made him feel so deliciously full. He would never admit it, but Will was right. Will was the one with a body to rival a god and the most unpredictable, beautiful mind Hannibal had ever stumbled upon. All Will had to do was ask for something, and Hannibal would deliver it. Hannibal was more under Will's control than the other way around. 

Still, he wasn't going to admit it, not during this battle of wills where the whole point was to prove who had the most power. 

"Does that feel good, Will?" he panted. "Doesn't it feel so good to give into your desires?"

"Just because I want to fuck you doesn't mean you've won. I always wanted to fuck you."

"But every bit of this is a result of my conditioning." Hannibal smiled up at him. The pleasure was compounding, but the satisfaction of watching the realization dawn on Will's face was going to be a thousand times better. "You don't realize it, but every bit of this is because of my influence."

Will snarled. "Care to explain it to me? Or are you just going to act condescending this whole time?"

"I told you during one of our first sessions that you would not be able to touch yourself without my express permission. Instead, your thoughts would automatically shift to pleasing me, not yourself. And look at yourself now." Hannibal moaned again as Will thrust angrily into him. "Thinking about what I did to you earlier aroused you. Instead of pleasuring yourself to the thought, perhaps in the comfort of your own home, you're inside of me. Trying to make me come." 

Will narrowed his eyes. "I'm not doing this just for you. You think this isn't pleasing to me?"

"Is it pleasing to you? You've hardly made a sound since we've begun," Hannibal noted. "Don't you notice a barrier blocking you from the pleasure you really want to feel?"

"I'm more focused on making sure you humiliate yourself for me. Yeah, it feels good, but I like having you under me better."

"It could feel amazing if you were to give into trance."

"I'm not doing that. I told you. Don't even fucking think about it."

"I have no plans to go against your boundaries."

"But you have plans to change my boundaries. There's a difference." One of Will's hands moved to the base of Hannibal's cock, rubbing it and stroking him in just the right ways. Hannibal whined with pleasure, sending a devious grin across Will's face. 

"And look at you. Just moments ago, you refused to touch my cock."

Will blinked, turning his gaze toward what he was doing. He cursed, letting go and placing his hand back on the floor. 

"Did you not realize what you were doing?" Hannibal asked. 

"Shut up." Will moved even faster, and Hannibal couldn't help the sounds that came out of his mouth. He cried Will's name between groans of ecstasy, debilitating tingles shooting through his entire nervous system. He squeezed his eyes shut and came harder than he'd ever come, a smile spreading across his face from just how good it was. Cum sprayed on his stomach and thighs.

Will seemed to be having the opposite issue. Despite his aggressive thrusting, he'd hardly let out any sign of pleasure. Now, it seemed he was trying to come, but the only thing he was doing was sending more residual throbs through Hannibal's lower body. 

"What's the matter?" Hannibal asked. "Do you need my permission, Will?"

"No, Doc-- No. I just..." Will pulled out for a moment, staring down at his own cock like he didn't know what to do with it. He then stuck it back inside Hannibal instead of bringing his hands to it. "I can't..."

"You aren't able to touch yourself or come without permission. Don't you remember?" Will had spent many nights watching the tape of their first session together, at Hannibal's command, and each time he refused to touch himself until the tape gave him permission to. The inability to touch was a command from their second session, not present in that specific tape, but Hannibal was also reinforcing it every time Will called him after watching it. It was a rather strong association now, a loop of sorts. It was always so much fun to answer Will's calls on those nights. 

Now, you remember you're not allowed to touch, do you understand? Not before I say you can.

Yes, Doctor Lecter. 

It was all culminating now. Will wasn't coming when he wanted to, and he couldn't touch himself. The only thing his mind knew how to do was pleasure Hannibal. 

"Fuck." Will began thrusting again, and Hannibal let out a much softer hum. The pleasure wasn't as good the second time around, but just having Will under his thumb was the most arousing part. Will's expression began to crack a little. "I can't..."

"You're not going to get anywhere doing what you are now," Hannibal said. "You can either give into trance, and I'll reward you with allowing you to touch, or you can beg me for permission right now. I can't promise I'll give it to you, however."

"Fuck you." Will groaned in frustration, thrusting aggressively in and out, but he seemed to realize early on that it wasn't getting him anywhere. When he extracted himself from Hannibal, his cock was completely solid. Hannibal's ass throbbed. "It can't be this powerful. I just need..." He stared down at himself. "Oh, God..."

"If you didn't like it, you'd be able to fight through it. Your mind is much stronger than you realize. Fight through it, if that is what you really want to do."

"I--" Will frowned. "I'm not going to embarrass myself like that."

"Or is it that you love this? You love having your cock under my control, don't you?"

"I don't have to come. I just wanted to turn you into a mess."

"So you're placing my pleasure over yours. Just as I wanted you to."

"Fuck!" Will growled, pummeling the ground with his fist. "God, I'm so fucking hard and so fucking horny. I'm going to kill you."

"I would not stop you. I've just seen Heaven."

"You're not getting into Heaven, you pompous bastard." Will's hips moved upward as he humped the air. "Fuck, I need to come."

"What are you willing to do for me to allow it to happen?"

"I'm not begging for it. I'm not doing that."

"And I'm not going to break your boundaries and send you into trance when you don't wish to be. So it seems we are at an impasse."

Even though he wasn't getting any stimulation, Hannibal's power play seemed to make Will even more horny. He bit his lip. "What do you want, Hannibal?"

It was a request that had sat on the back of Hannibal's tongue for a while now, but now was finally the chance to bring it out. There wasn't a better chance than now, when Will was desperate enough to agree to anything. 

"Come to my house for dinner tomorrow," Hannibal said, "and then we will take on the final step of your conditioning in the comfort of my home."

"You want me to waltz into your house where no one can hear me scream when you decide to torture me?"

"Remember what I told you at the very beginning of this whole ordeal?" Hannibal leaned in closer. "If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead by now. But the world would be a lot less interesting without you." 

More thrusting against the air, almost mindlessly. "How can I trust you?"

"You can't. Not entirely. And I cannot trust you, either." Hannibal raised an eyebrow. "But we like that about each other, don't we?"

Will furrowed his brow. "God, okay. Yes. Fine. I'll do it if you let me come right now."

"Be polite about it."

That turned him on even more. "Fuck. Please. Please!"

"Good boy. Come."

The moment Hannibal snapped his fingers, Will fell apart. Thick cum spilled from the tip of his cock, and his eyes fluttered shut with euphoria. He let out one loud "oh" as he sank to his knees and came hard, his mind melting away for a moment. His cock twitched with relief as it pumped out cum like it had been needing to do for a long time. 

Hannibal watched with a smirk. He was already planning tomorrow's menu. 

Chapter Text

"Rack of lamb ribs with purple artichokes."

Hannibal carried the steaming platter over to the table and gracefully set it down. Will couldn't hide the slight widening of his eyes, and Hannibal didn't blame him; the intricacies of the plate were plentiful. The ribs took up the majority, but it was surrounded by a variety of plants: artichokes, bunches of grapes, persimmons, figs. Toward the top of the rack, two small skulls sat next to each other, and the rib bones near those were tied together like hands folded in prayer.

"Serving sacrificial lamb to your would-be sacrificial lamb?" Will asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"You are not my sacrificial lamb, nor were you ever." Hannibal busied himself with the plates and wine, pouring Will a glass of a deep red. 

"More of a scapegoat? Or was I relegated to a mere lab rat?"

"Your illness had not yet progressed enough for there to be the need for experimentation." Hannibal smoothed down his shirt before plating a rib for Will. "I had not assigned you a label yet, truthfully. So I cannot say what you would have been."

"Hm." Will took a sip of his wine. "Truth is always appreciated. There are many more truths I would like to hear from you."

"I feel the same way."

"I've revealed more than enough truths to you, Doctor Lecter." Will closed his eyes for a second after uttering the name. The words were now loaded with emotional and physical conditioning. "Haven't we learned enough about me?"

"I could never learn enough about you. I could devote the rest of my life to you, the subtle characteristics that make up the man you are, and I would only make it about one percent of the way to the end before my death."

Both men picked up their utensils.

"Would it be actual truths about me or the idealized version of me you're constantly working to manipulate out of me?" Will asked. 

"I am not attempting to bring out anything that was not already there to begin with."

"But by bringing out things I was keeping repressed, you're objectively changing me. You're shaping my mind to become more accepting of those hidden feelings, making me into someone less ashamed. Someone a little more willing to take risks. You're creating a version of me that you like better than the old one."

"I like every version of you equally."

Will took a bite of the lamb. Hannibal watched the way his sharp jaw worked around the tender meat, imagining those lips touching every sensitive part of his body. He was determined to make Will his.

"What version of me were you trying to bring out when you decided to foster my disease, rather than cure it?"

"As stated, your disease was in its early stages. One cannot be sure what it would have transformed into."

"Ideally, then. If everything took the absolute perfect path, in your eyes, what would have happened? What was your end goal?"

Hannibal paused, chewing. "The answer should be insignificant now. You are cured."

"Meaning, you don't want to tell me because you know I'll react negatively. And you want to keep me here longer than the first few bites." 

Hannibal didn't respond. He stared Will in the face as he chewed and swallowed his next bite.

"I want to know," Will said. "I deserve to know. Before I give you even more dominion over my own mind."

"Would any answer change your decision to be here?"

Will frowned. "...No. I've already made up my mind."

"What have you decided?"

"That you are not to be trusted, and it is in my best interests to leave before I find myself in a situation I can no longer escape."

Despite his words, he made no move to stand. Hannibal tilted his head. "Are you going to follow your best interests, then?"

"No."

Of course he wouldn't. Hannibal had worked himself much too deep into Will's mind for him to ever be able to walk away and forget about him. It sounded manipulative, but it was clear from the start Will wanted things that way. He longed for Hannibal's control from the very beginning, when he gazed upon the scene in the ambulance. "Are you afraid of me, Will?"

"Absolutely not."

"Are you afraid of what I'm going to tell you?"

"I'm not afraid of hearing about your past intentions. They're in the past for a reason."

"Ideally," Hannibal started, taking another bite to give himself the chance to think. Even if Will claimed he was going to stay, he still appreciated the power of words. They were living, breathing things. "I would have discovered your illness was encephalitis, and then I would have come up with a plan from there. From how encephalitis progresses neurologically and psychologically, your disease would have escalated to the point that you would have no idea who you were anymore. You would begin to lose great bouts of memory and time."

"Blank slate moments you could manipulate into being whatever you wanted."

"I could use them to my advantage, yes. I knew upon watching you work that you were perfectly capable of discovering my crimes. I would have chosen to eliminate that threat by framing you for some of my crimes, as well as utilize the seizures, hallucinations, and mental breaks the disease causes to shape your brain."

"So I would have been your sacrificial lamb."

Hannibal considered this. "Yes. Now that we are discussing it, I suppose that's the best term."

Will seemed to appreciate the honesty. "What would you have shaped my brain into? What kind of person would I be?"

"If you had asked me at the time, I would have described the very man who is sitting in front of me right now." Hannibal couldn't hold back a smirk. "Someone who is capable of understanding me, of seeing the beauty of the world in the same ways I do."

"You believe that's how I am now?"

"Yes, and I am certain you've always been that way. I am grateful I noticed the potential in you early on, and I took the risk of revealing your disease to you before I could carry out that plan. It's been much more interesting to watch you flourish naturally through simply lowering your inhibitions, as opposed to the invasive and detrimental disease route. Hypnosis has been a gift."

"What about framing me for your crimes? What happens now that you can't do that anymore?"

"Well, I suppose I will have to choose another sacrificial lamb."

They both took another bite and basked in a longer silence than was typical between them. It was as if they were getting used to existing in each other's company, testing the waters in case nights like these happened more often. 

"Forgive me for the generalization," Hannibal finally spoke, "but I have spent many years studying the human mind and behavior. I find it rather safe to assume any other person in your position would be furious about what has been done to them. Or terrified of what was attempted upon them."

"Correct. Many people would also be furious at their dogs for stealing food from the counter, or terrified of being bitten by their neighbor's guardian pit bull." Will took another sip of wine. "But I have never had it in me to blame a predator for being a predator."

Hannibal leaned forward slightly in his chair. Will saw Hannibal's admission as a mere fact of life. He understood the way Hannibal thought, and he saw the plan as something necessary, as well. The elimination of a threat. Will was so much more capable of understanding him than Hannibal realized. 

"Dogs are often not thought of as predators. They are domesticated."

"So are you," Will said. "No one would know what you are. You're a lot more calculating, much less wild, than a wolf or a coyote. And you've mastered the art of masking as a 'safe' animal to have in the home. Wolves stay on the outskirts. You integrate. You look normal." 

"What do you consider yourself?"

"I spent a lot of time believing I was the guardian pit bull. Loyal, but capable of going to extremes to prove that loyalty. To ensure the survival of myself and those I cared about."

"Perhaps that is still who you are. Perhaps you've merely changed which side of the fence you are on."

"Went from the house of the FBI to the house of the enemy," Will scoffed. "Tell that to the me from just a month ago."

"The version of you from one month ago would have still accepted that reality, deep down. You are the same person with the same brain. The only difference is that now your mental forts are a little less ironclad." Hannibal took a moment to admire his work -- not the dish, but the man. Will Graham may have been his own person, and Hannibal may have been simply playing with desires that were already there, but there was still some crafting that had taken place. Strategies used to shape Will into someone more confident. He'd worked hard at it. 

"We've spoken of my ideal situation," Hannibal continued, "Of what would happen if everything went the way I wanted it to. Now I am curious about what would happen tonight, should everything turn out the way you would like."

"As in, what do I want to get out of this visit? Because that answer changed a few times just on the car ride over here."

"Why did it change?"

"Because I was dealing with various levels of arousal when I was driving over here." Will scoffed. "I'd get too lost in my own thoughts, be convinced that I wanted something, and then some fucker would cut me off on the highway and I'd snap out of it. Think to myself, what the fuck am I going on about?"

Hannibal's lips turned up at the thought of Will being unable to control his own thoughts, his own levels of arousal. Tingling, rutting against the car seat, unable to do anything to take care of himself.

"What was the least extreme situation that came to mind? The splash of realism that entered your mind in the aftermath of snapping out of those other thoughts?"

"I thought I'd come over here, have a good meal, have some great sex, and then come home. In the same night."

They shared a knowing look. Both of them were aware that wasn't going to happen. 

"And the most extreme?" Hannibal asked. "When you were in the midst of losing yourself to arousal, and anything seemed possible? Desirable?"

"I don't want to tell you, because I don't want you to carry it out."

Hannibal nodded. "I am promising you now, what you say will not go past hypothetical conversation. I'm only curious about the extremes your mind is willing to go to. The things you fetishize deep within."

"It might also be that I don't want to give you the satisfaction of knowing." Will shrugged. 

Hannibal cut himself another bite. "I could always trigger you and make you tell me," he replied casually. "But I would prefer to hear it from you with clarity."

"Even the way I am now, with my inhibitions lowered, I'm...hesitant. It feels unhinged. Leaves me a little disgusted with myself."

"I've made it clear from the start that I will not force you into anything you do not already want to do."

"Oh, please. You're testing me. Trying to see if your pet project is really finished yet, or if there's still work to do. If I was truly the way you wanted me to be, I would have already told you the most extreme fantasy I thought of."

"Not necessarily. I always wanted you to have agency."

"There's only so much agency a man can have when he's been hypnotized to suck another man's cock." Will's cheeks flushed.

"I'd argue you've had quite a bit of agency. You've made decisions that have guided our therapeutic process. You have told me multiple times that you wanted to keep going, that you were pleased. That you enjoyed obeying me."

"I told you those things when I was under your influence."

"And, when you were under my influence, I insisted you tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I told you if you were uncomfortable with a command, you would immediately wake. I put multiple safeties in place."

"And there's the issue that I kept coming back." Will smiled bitterly, picking up his glass. "Can't really explain myself out of that one, hm?"

"Hard not to, when each visit gave you so much pleasure. And you can trust that tonight will be rather pleasurable for you, as well."

"You drugged my drink."

Hannibal blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"In the most extreme fantasy. You drugged my drink." Will's eyes darted to his glass. "I imagined the gradual slowing of my own muscles, the haziness of my mind. Not realizing what was going on until it was too late. You snapped your fingers, and I fell."

Hannibal leaned forward, his food forgotten. Hannibal never ignored food.

Will, however, kept eating like this was no big deal. "This was a scenario I thought about even before we began hypnosis. You asked me at our first session what changed my mind? It was this dream. I had it multiple times."

He still must have not remembered the phone call. The one he made to Hannibal's home in the middle of the night, right before he agreed to try hypnotherapy.

"I had a dream."

"What happened in the dream?"

"I was...you controlled me. I was under your power."

"Like I am controlling you now? Or in a more intense manner?"

"I was...I was a slave. Your slave."

That memory was buried deep in Will's mind, insignificant enough to not want to come out. Will had been half-asleep even before Hannibal dropped him, so his brain wasn't working to remember a single thing about it. 

"Tell me about it," Hannibal said. Will had never gone into full detail.

"You drugged my drink, and then you just locked me away and spent a long, long time conditioning me. Collar around my neck, blindfolded, naked. You'd give me aphrodisiacs and train me into never touching myself without your permission. I couldn't come anymore unless you snapped your fingers and gave the command. The only way I could get any sort of pleasure was by pleasing you. You trained me so that anything I did to your cock, it felt like someone was doing the exact same thing to mine. So I'd suck and fondle and worship your cock all day, but I still wouldn't come."

Hannibal listened, infatuated. He shifted in his chair, and Will noticed with a smirk. 

"Days and weeks of conditioning later, and I wasn't the same person anymore. I was dumb, mindless. I was only trained to know sex. You kept me inside and hypnotized twenty-four seven, and I had no qualms about it. I didn't know how. It got to where just looking at you would make my cock hard, and I'd be drooling and begging you to let me take it. 

"The best was when you would leave and come home after a fresh kill. Your hands would be stained with blood, and you'd have the organs stored in the fridge for later. I'd see you, covered in evidence, knowing you'd taken a life, and I would be all over you. Worshiping you, calling you Master. You'd fuck me ruthlessly, and I'd come so hard I would pass out. I'd always wake up after that dream with dirty sheets."

Hannibal's stomach fluttered. "I will admit, there are aspects of that scenario that sound rather desirable to me."

"Me, too. But not others."

"Correct. When it comes to the two of us, a twenty-four seven dynamic is unsustainable."

"Right. We like playing mental chess a little too much." Will smiled. 

"Our sessions are not an accurate representation of how we would spend an entire life together, given the chance. I'd prefer to have you as your coherent, usual self most of the time. As I said, I like every version of you, but this self? This intelligent, remarkable man sitting across from me? You never cease to astound me."

"I'm too much like you for you to want to throw my mind away. I'm the only one who could ever understand you." The look on Will's face was cheeky. He knew how much power he held over Hannibal -- just as much, if not more, than Hannibal held over him.

"Tonight will be significant, Will. It will be an important final step in your therapy. I need to know that you are ready for it."

"I'm ready. So long as you're ready to respect me and my boundaries."

"Of course."

"I have a condition, though."

"I will do my best to fulfill it."

Will set down his utensils and stood, stalking over to the other side of the table. He stood over Hannibal, raising a hand to brush his knuckles across Hannibal's cheek. The beating of Hannibal's heart became erratic, his pupils large with lust and adoration.

"Run away with me," Will whispered. 

The rush of love that ran through Hannibal was so strong it nearly brought him to his knees. Still, he couldn't disregard the idea that this was a manipulation tactic. "What is it you wish to escape from?"

"It's not that I need to escape. It's that you need to." 

Will reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He scrolled through it for a moment before setting it down on the table. An audio file began to play. 

"Is that why you enjoy the idea of me being the Chesapeake Ripper so much? Why you pleasured yourself to that very idea in the hospital?"

"You hold the world under your thumb. You controlled whether or not that man in the ambulance lived. You control who dies. And you eat them because they are nothing to you. And you looked at me, and we both saw who the other was. I imagined so many things."

"What did you imagine?"

"Your blood on my hands. My blood on your hands. Someone else's blood on both of our hands. In our teeth."

"So your fantasies surrounded me being the Chesapeake Ripper? And you enjoyed the idea of us partaking in that truth together?"

"Yes. We'd be like God, you and I together."

The clip came to a stop. Hannibal stared down at the black screen, thinking. 

"That was the session in which Jack called you," he remarked.

"Yes."

"You also..."

"Would you like to strip the rest of your clothes for me, Will?"

"I...I don't...no, I don't."

"You refused to remove your shirt," Hannibal realized. "You were wearing a wire."

"After the first session, when I just...couldn't bring myself to watch the recording, I wondered if It was because you'd done something to me. I went to Jack. He gave me a wire, and I recorded it for myself." He tapped on the table for emphasis. "It wasn't like he was listening in. The call was completely coincidental. But it helped me in the end, since the way you acted made Jack even more suspicious."

"This audio alone is not evidence enough. There is no admission of guilt."

"No, but when you pair it with the other recording from the previous session? When I asked if you've killed in other places, and you told me you had?" Will raised his eyebrows. "It was really, really quiet, but it was there. Just had to up the levels a little bit, and there you go. An admission of guilt. An admission that's just enough to get a warrant to search this place."

Hannibal leaned back, gazing up at Will with a neutral expression. "Which will happen when?"

"Judge should serve it tomorrow."

"They will not find anything that proves my guilt."

"Maybe if you had more time to prepare, yeah. But you and I both know there's too much evidence in this house for you to be able to cleanly dispose of it by tomorrow."

It was a fair assessment. Especially considering the test Hannibal had waiting for Will downstairs. 

Hannibal was not the type to panic. He was not the type to rage. The only thing that ran through his brain now, apart from a slight hurt from Will's betrayal, was curiosity. 

"Why have you done this?"

"You've lowered my inhibitions, Doctor Lecter. You've made my mental forts less ironclad, as you put it." Will licked his lips. "And that's made me realize just how much I want you and only you."

He stepped forward and lowered himself onto Hannibal's lap. Hannibal rested his hands on Will's hips, gazing into his beautiful blue eyes. They were intense, wild with desire.

"We've both changed," Will said. "I know you want me as much as I want you. If not more. So I've carved a reason for us to run. Now, we're going to have nothing but each other."

Hannibal's body burned with need. "So this is not a betrayal."

"No. That would imply I'm abandoning you. This is a reckoning." Will smiled, running his finger along Hannibal's jawline. "It's my vengeance. It's what will satisfy me enough to forgive you your trespasses."

"And you're certain I will forgive you yours? That I will agree to run and take you with me?" It wasn't a necessary question; Hannibal would always forgive Will, especially this version of him. He was magnificent. Anger was the last thing he would ever feel in this situation. As for running, he was already picturing their life together -- but the scenery varied vastly depending on how Will handled the final stretch of his therapy.

"Yes. Because whatever test you have planned for me tonight, I'm determined to pass it." Will moved close to Hannibal's ear, whispering, "I'm going to make you proud, Doctor Lecter."

Hannibal's cock was hardening underneath Will. They both took notice, and when Hannibal glanced down he saw the clear outline of Will's, as well. 

"Then make me proud, my good boy, and sleep."

One snap, and Will slumped in his arms.