hannigram hypnosis (sfw)

Will can't sleep. It's not like this is new territory for him, but that doesn't make it more fun to lie awake in the dark every night with only his insomnia induced hallucinations for company. +

Hannibal hasn't missed Will's sleepless condition. Will's noticed his looks of concern during their sessions. Usually, they're not even manufactured.

"Do find it difficult to find solace in sleep, Will?"

"Sleep has seldom offered me respite from my waking nightmares, you know that better than anyone, Hannibal."

They're sitting in Hannibal's office, chairs pulled close to the fireplace with glasses of mulled wine to stave off the winter's chill.

It's a cold night, but the fire is roaring so fiercely that Will can feel his skin tightening with the heat. He shifts in his chair, pleasantly overwarm.

"Is it truly respite you seek? A hiding place in which to barricade yourself,

cowering away from the creeping horrors of your mind?"

Will considers, swirling the fragrant spiced wine in his cup.

"I think that perhaps, if I could," Will selects his words precisely, "I would wipe those thoughts from my mind entirely."

He watches Hannibal as he speaks,

gauging his reaction. Hannibal's face flickers to something that might be disappointment, but it's quickly smoothed to something more understanding. Plastic.

Will continues, "However, I'm not sure I'd know my own mind without the spectres to keep me company."

Hannibal looks intrigued again. "We often cannot imagine ourselves without our demons until they've been exorcised.”

It’s Hannibal’s turn to choose his words precisely. Will envisions him plucking them one by one, inspecting them them like he might farmer’s market produce.

“Tell me Will,” Hannibal says, “Have you ever tried hypnosis?"

Will’s recoil is instinctive and involuntary. He clutches his glass tightly and grits his teeth, breathing through his nose. Allowing a psychiatrist that sort of unfettered access-to stir up his brains with their

grubby, greedy fingers- has always been unthinkable. His eyes flick to Hannibal’s.

Hannibal rather looks like he was expecting that reaction, or something worse.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

“You know why, Doctor Lecter.”

“You imagine that either your empathy would immerse you so deeply that you would become untethered from your reality.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“I don’t trust anyone who has an /interest/ in the workings of the human mind to just hand them my brain on a silver platter," Will corrects, terse & stiff.

Hannibal hums thoughtfully.

A log settles in the fireplace, sending a sparkling wave of light crackling up the chimney.

Will consciously unclenches his jaw and relaxes his shoulders. He can hear the arrhythmic whoosh of the icy wind at the windows beating like a necrotic heart.

At last, Hannibal turns, drawing Will's eyes to his. They’re warmer than they ought to be, for someone cool as Hannibal.

“Perhaps you’d be willing to try with me.”

//end pt 1//