Enormous thanks to my amazing beta @fragile-teacup
! And my nearest and dearest (you know who you are!) who helped
and encouraged me through many aspects of this fic, particularly on
tattoos (yes that’s right, I’m probably the last remaining person in the
world without a tattoo LOL). Love to you all! XOXO
Summary:
Will Graham has quit the FBI. Unable to trust himself,
too tempted by the violence inside him waiting to be free, he is
unraveling and alone. The Ravenstag that haunts his dreams stalks him…
tempts him… is him.
Tired of so much denial, it is enough for Will to grasp at the
opportunity offered by the enigmatic Hannibal Lecter, a Horishi master
of Irezumi, the ancient art of Japanese tattooing. Hannibal is nothing
if not… unexpected, as is the pull Will feels towards him. Artist,
confessor, friend… something more? Can he bring Will’s shadows into
the light?
Will sat in the front seat of his car, the raindrops on his
windshield distorting the light over Hannibal’s door, reflecting back to
him through a prism of repeated images, dappling light and dark over
his skin. He was gripping the steering wheel in repetitive pulses,
knuckles white, teeth worrying at his bottom lip.
Only one more appointment — just one last session together and it will all be finished.
The tattoo was almost complete. Hannibal had booked him for this
one final appointment. Finishing touches, he’d said. What he had called
its “becoming”. The final flourishes of a master’s hand, brought to
life in Will’s living flesh.
The idea thrummed through Will’s skin, melding with his
anticipation, but still he sat in his car, muscles tense, staring at the
door to Hannibal’s studio. He felt both hot and cold at once, reticent
yet excited. He couldn’t tell if what he wanted was to string out these
last moments indefinitely before going inside, or to stride up the steps
and kick in the door, to finally relieve the mounting anticipation that
had gripped him since he’d last been here.
Eager for him to finally finish the tattoo… or just to see him again? One last time.
He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to that, wasn’t sure he was
ready to confront what it might mean. Part of him felt like if he looked
too closely at all of this, it would break apart… that somehow his
usual scrutiny would throw a damper on what at times had felt like a
dangerous but life-giving electric current forcing his heart to beat…
faster and faster…
And now there was only one final session. One that Hannibal said he needed in order to breathe life into what he had created.
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HANNIBAL (season 4) “Starting over is a fantasy most of us can only dream of, and even if we had the chance, how many would be brave enough to go through with it? Just a few. The ones for whom it’s life or death.”
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