The Last Temptation

The Last Temptation

Out of My Mind
Written By: The Adrians
Song By: James Blunt
Series info: Slash Songfic...
First Chapter Started: July 3, 2006
First Chapter Finished: July 8, 2006

Authors' Note:

This is a start a hopefully successful series of Han/Will fics. It takes place over 40 days and 40 nights. The starting day is actually Day 3. Day 0 is talked about briefly. The next day, is obviously day one, and a driving day. Nothing too interesting there. It'll be posted by chapter. Song titles for each chapter. Don't be surprised if there are a few lyrics used in dialog or as transitions. This is a song fic, after all. The first chapter, 'Out of My Mind' is by James Blunt. There will be many more artists' works featured as the story moves on. Hooray!
This story is a mix of the books and movies. The only problems we foresee you having with characters is Molly's son. In the book he was only Will's stepson and his name was Willy. That's how he'll be in this story. He won't be mentioned too much we don't think, so you won't get too confused we hope.
Be warned, in future chapters there WILL be heavy slash.
Look for Het in the Hannibal section, kiddies.
You won't find any Clarice/Hannibal here.

Time for the ever exciting disclaimers. We don't own Hannibal, Will, Clarice or any of the characters mentioned in this or the following stories. They're all property of Thomas Harris...who we adore.
We don't claim any ownership to the amazing sexy of Anthony Hopkins and Edward Norton, Jodie Foster (and Julianne Moore, technically, but we're going off Jodie. We like her better anyway) who portrayed these characters. Last but absolutely completely not least, we don't get ANY money from the publication of this exciting use of our time!

We'd like to thank Elfin, Simarillion, and darkangel985 for inspiring us. The latter two for urging us to get this first chapter done. We want to update regularly...and we'll try. It's just a matter of getting our lazy ass off the bed and into the chair to get the thoughts we have on paper.

Sorry this first installment is so short. Big things start out small. Don't worry, this is just the tip of the iceberg. We should update soon. Just gotta smooth out some lines.

We hope you enjoy this.

-T.A.

Ooh. P.S.- We're looking for a Beta...Anyone got the patience?

PPS- Read and Review!

______________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 1- Out of My Mind

Judging by the look on the organ grinder,
you'll judge me by the fact that my face don't fit...

“Please, Will.” The tall, graying Crawford had pleaded the best his hard heart could. “Just hang around for a little while...It's not going to be forever. Just until he's in again. And...hey, you don't have to get in or anything, but maybe...you could help.”

Will Graham sighed as he thought back on the meeting he'd had with Jack Crawford. Had he really expected Will to just leap into protective custody? Will pressed his foot into the gas pedal. With all the work he'd done to salvage some part of a normal life? He slammed into the clutch and shifted into fifth gear. Could Crawford honestly think that Will would be happy to suffer like he had eight years ago?
Will sighed as he watched the chopped yellow lines fly past him. 90 wasn't legal, even on a freeway.
Crawford probably didn't think he'd b happy. He probably knew how miserable Will would be. He just didn't care. Jack really wasn't about caring. Will had known this since before he quit the force. It was because of Jack that he'd been on the Hobbs case. It was because of Jack that he'd been put on the Chesapeake Ripper case. It was because of Jack that he'd been dragged out of retirement for the Dolarhyde case. It was because of Jack that he'd lost Molly, Willy, and his sanity all over again...at least indirectly.

Will didn't really want to think about who played a more direct part in all of these instances.

He shivered and shook his head, recalling more of the meeting as he passed a black Bentley from the right.

-”What're you thinking, Will?” Crawford had looked to the ex investigator with something like curiosity and frustration.
The bright blue eyes refocused themselves on Crawford.
-”I'm thinking that I want to go home, Jack.” Will had replied wearily.
“He doesn't want me.” A lie he was sure Jack saw through. “And didn't you say you thought he lost a hand in escaping Krendler's”
Jack nodded. “Yeah. We've got a witness. There was a lot of blood.”
-”So don't you think he'd need a little more recovery time than three days for an injury of that severity?”
Crawford had simply shrugged. “You tell me.”

Will grunted in frustration. Four days ago he'd been called on to meet with his former boss. After he'd gotten off the phone, Will stared down at his empty counter for what felt like hours. It wasn't that he hadn't been expecting the call eventually. Since the news of Lecter's escape nearly half a year before, Will had been checked, called, dropped in on, harassed, and then finally they wanted him to come in. Will wanted to tell them exactly where they could shove their protective custody, but he'd made the trip up anyway, if only for formality's sake.

It's touching that the monkey sits on my shoulder
He's waiting for the day when he gets me...

He took his time driving up from Marathon. Three days, to be exact. The day he'd gotten in, Crawford had him attend a meeting over breakfast with Alan Bloom and several other members of the force. Needless to say he hadn't had much appetite. This was more of his past than he'd bargained for. Most of the people that attended the breakfast Will had never met before. And the meeting was less about the matter at hand than just eating. Just seeing Dr. Bloom, though made Will want to curl in a corner and vomit. So many hours he'd spent talking with the man. So very many moments when they'd been working together on the unthinkable crimes of Hobbs, Lecter, and Dolarhyde. It was because of Bloom that Will had gone to Lecter in the first place after Hobbs.

Bethesda Naval Hospital hadn't done anything for Will. He'd felt alone and afraid, all pent up in his little room in the psych ward. It was hard to listen to the doctors as they tried to console him and assure him he'd return to normal soon. What exactly was normal?
Will spent months there, making little to no progress. Finally, Alan called the only person he thought capable of helping. A sort of last resort. Will shivered in his chair.

Looking at Bloom made him ill.

But not half as ill as looking at Jack.

But I don't need no alibi- I'm a puppet on a string.
I just need this stage to be seen...

The breakfast had passed by with generally mild discomfort on Will's part. He'd concentrated mostly on moving his food around in a way that made it look as if he'd eaten something. If he was addressed, he replied politely, but tried not to look up.
There was someone else at the breakfast he'd recognized. A woman...with shoulder length, brown hair. Her features were sharp, but held a fuzzy glow when she stared off. It was something he guessed she did quite frequently. She wore the same sort of glazed look Will imagined he had plastered to his own face. He remembered thinking this was probably the witness Jack had mentioned on the phone.

The meeting with Jack had proved his theory true. The witness was Special Agent Clarice Starling.
So Lecter had found another FBI agent to torment. Somehow he wasn't surprised. Perhaps it should have been Clarice they were worried about, not him.

Jack just put him through the motions, talking vaguely about Lecter's escape like it was some sort of secret, then informing him of how concerned he and the department were about his safety.

-”You did put him away, Will.” He'd said. It sounded like a bunch of shit, really. Jack wasn't concerned about Will's safety. He just wanted Will to catch Lecter again. Where the young spry pet had failed, he looked to an old haggard one to succeed. He tried to coax him with maybe gaining some sort of inner peace from getting Hannibal in again. Will figured it was probably an obvious connection to make: Seeing the boogey man in Will's dreams put back in that box of glass and concrete looked like it might finally set Will's mind to rest. Perhaps that's the way Jack would feel if he were in the same position.
But in truth, Will felt the exact opposite. If Hannibal were to be put away, it would only be a matter of time before he thought of some other kind of cunning escape. More people would be killed. In all, it just wasn't something Will wanted to be a part of.

Will had nodded at the statement. He knew how precious Hannibal's freedom had been to him. It had led him to trying to kill the special investigator that cold January night. Since then, there had been several attempts made on Will's life by the doctor. He knew that his reunion with Hannibal was eminent, but he also knew that Jack Crawford wasn't going to be part of it.

We all need a pantomime to remind us what is real
Hold my eye and know what it means...

Will sighed. At this rate he'd be home by late into tomorrow. It was already getting dark. Only an hour or so, and the darkness he feared would be upon him. He wished he could drive faster, or fly, or something. Anything to get away from Maryland more quickly than he was now. Florida wasn't exactly his favourite place on earth anymore, but at least it was far away from Jack, Alan, and his memories of Lecter.

His last words to Jack hadn't been pleasant, but he'd left the office feeling satisfied. Now all that satisfaction was fading, and fast.
Jack had said something, just used a word, a word that had made the ex investigator cringe. He said 'crazy', or something like while describing Lecter.
No matter what, Will knew above all else that Hannibal Lecter was not crazy. Driven, but not crazy...
Despite what the judges said, despite what countless tabloids and articles had printed, despite how many people testified his insanity, Hannibal was not...

I'm out of my mind...

Will traced his fingers over his scar once and sighed again. He had no idea why that word made him so angry with Jack. Maybe it was because it had been used to describe him once, a long time ago.

-”Will...I've packed mine and Willy's things...We're going back to Oregon. Things have just gotten so...crazy. I-”
More like “Will, you've gotten so crazy.”
Molly,

I'm out of my mind...

-”He's not showing any signs of improvement. He hasn't slept in three days. Pretty soon, he'll be...”
Crazy...Crazy...Crazy...
The Doctors,

I'm out of my mind...

-”How I'd love to get you on my couch...”
Hannibal.

I'm out of my mind...


That was all Will could take. He fought to keep his hands on the wheel as his sobs started to shake him. All he wanted was to curl up and hide. It wasn't possible...not just now. He had to stop first. Will coaxed himself back into some semblance of calm, and pulled into the first motel he found. Escape could wait.

Judging by the look on the organ grinder,
You'll judge me by the fact that my face don't fit...

In the motel room, with all the lights on, Will Graham lay on the bed. His restless mind fought sleep, but his exhausted body demanded it. While his brain resisted, he drifted into a sort of hazy half-sleep. Here, Hannibal was just as perfect and poisonous, but the memories didn't have that sharp, stinging stiletto's edge.
It was here that Will returned to his thoughts just before his tears had interfered.

Brilliance was often mistaken for insanity.

He'd never call himself brilliant, but he knew Hannibal was. The sheer precision and calm, almost righteousness that surrounded his murders, showed nothing of insanity, and everything of brilliance. Outside the fog of fatigue, Will might have been sick with himself for thinking that.

It's touching that the monkey sits on my shoulder.
He's waiting for the day when he gets me.

Hannibal was perfectly aware of the rightness or wrongness of his actions. He simply didn't care. He was a man governed by himself and his manners alone.
And ah, the manners. Will almost found himself chuckling as his mind replayed the gentle, almost playful scolding the doctor used whenever Will made a faux pas while they ate sometimes, late at night.
“Tsk Tsk, William. That's a salad fork.” Will remembered he'd chided once.
He smiled when Will turned his head away to hide the growing blush across his cheeks.

Will also remembered the speech Hannibal had given him at Baltimore. He hadn't liked the way Will had ignored his questions or dismissed them with cursing. The doctor had made it clear that he wouldn't give any information unless the investigator answered the questions calmly and politely. He liked doing that. He liked watching Will give in. And he had.

But I won't be your concubine- I'm a puppet, not a whore
I just need this stage to be seen...

Will had never met anyone who'd made such a deep impact on him. Maybe it was because Lecter had killed him. Will shook his head, cheek rubbing against the white, clean smelling pillow. No, he'd been fond of Dr. Lecter's company before then, and had only been mildly embarrassed when corrected at the dinner table. He just couldn't stop himself from playing along. He was a loath to admit he'd liked the forgiving smile Hannibal always had for him when he looked up again. Will shuddered as he thought of what else might have made Lecter such a significant force in Will's life.

Love...God, please don't say it was love.

Won't you be a friend of mine to remind me what is real?
Hold my heart and see where it bleeds

I'm out of my mind...