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English
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Published:
2021-07-26
Completed:
2024-07-06
Words:
1,418
Chapters:
2/2
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The Unplanned and Unexpected: Will Graham's Life Is a Cosmic Joke

Summary:

Will Graham hadn’t expected his life to go this way. He assumed he would be covered in grease, water, and fish guts until he drank himself into an early grave.

But Hannibal Lecter entered his life and

oh

that bastard.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Will Graham hadn’t expected his life to go this way. He assumed he would be covered in grease, water, and fish guts until he drank himself into an early grave- only remembered for the time he didn’t pull the trigger during his tenure as a cop.

Will Graham hadn’t planned for an ear to stare up at him from his sink, nor for the almost uncontrollable urge to push that ear down the fuckin drain and let the garbage disposal work its magic. Nor had he ever in his thirty-odd years of life thought he’d have a stare off with the outside of an ear, hoping that it could somehow gain the ability to speak, not hear.

So, like all unexpected situations that disrupted his routine or daily life, he chose to bury, burn, drown, or destroy it.

Will Graham picked up the ear by his thumb and pointer finger, and promptly retched again.

-

As a manic man Will had a lot of projects being worked on constantly and was an avid believer in inconsistent and mildly concerning cleaning binges. So he stripped down to his underwear and got to work.

-

The first thing to do was to gather his clothes and douse them in his lemon all-in-one cleaner that was perfect for cleaning after his dogs. His clothes and sheets were thrown in the washer and Will threw himself on his knees in order to scrub his floors from the front door to the upper floor he never used. His sink was promptly cleaned with his bleach and the garbage disposal ran with a constant stream of the lemon cleaner. The ear sat on his ratty tea towel now, taunting.

That was next, but not before more cleaning.

-

Will started from the top floor with a cardboard box balanced on his hip and worked his way through his house gathering all the little things he didn’t need or anything he didn’t like and threw them in the box, but when he came upon his lures he noticed something he decidedly did not want.

Little pieces of bone and what appeared to be human hair were intertwined with his once beautiful lures and Will knew that he couldn’t have done this- or the ear- because this work was entirely unlike him.

“I mean the colors are all wrong and the placement is just atrocious…” Will mumbled under his breath, and it was kinda funny cause he sounded just as pretentious as-
Oh

Oh, that bastard

-

Will’s hands trembled atop the blender and it wasn’t because of the constant movement but rather the simmering, building, righteous rage that rolled inside of him.

Hannibal, the bastard, wanted to frame him for murder huh, well he had another thing coming.

Will might have a historically bad self-preservation instinct, but he would not go down for another’s crimes or for their pleasure, and he would make sure to find out who was involved and rid himself of them too- and he just knew that Abigail had to know, I mean how could she not, this being her ear and a-

The blender stopped, and it was funny the blood, cartilage, and skin sort of made the contents look like a normal protein smoothie- well it probably was rich in nutrients if someone wanted to eat-.

Oh

Oh, that stinky bastard

-

Will returned from his hike in which he threw the cursed smoothie and smashed lures into the raging river and burned the rag and disassembled blender parts, before throwing them into the river as well.

His boots, car, and all his traveling items had been wiped down and his house was clean and spotless, even his barn had been ransacked.

So when he came back from his walk with Winston and his pack following after and saw Crawford and Company in his driveway he felt vindicated.

Although, he did have to hold back a laugh. It was just too funny that the therapist Jack had forced on Will- breaking both ethical, moral, and judicial codes- turned out to be the Chesapeake Ripper. And, oh god, Alana passed on him because he was “too damaged, fragile, and scary” and went looking straight into the lair of the beast.

It was all too comical really, and Will had to look at it like that, because if he didn’t, if he realized that all of his friends were just using him for his brain or his culpability to be framed for murder, he’d probably become what they are afraid he is.
So, for that, he’s glad that he prefers dogs over people.

Chapter 2

Summary:

I wrote this in 30 minutes on 4 hours of sleep—please be nice. I did it after reading the comments on the first chapter and getting inspired. I know that there's no coherent plot line—maybe I'll come back and edit later, but right now, I'm tired and have about 50 Hannigram fics open on tabs I need to get through.

Anyway, thanks for the love on the first part of this. Hopefully, this addition doesn't offend.

-

Chapter Text

Will Graham hadn’t expected his life to go this way. He thought that after being detained by his “colleagues” on his own property, that they would apologize and leave him the hell alone, especially after finding out his brain was overtly telling him how cooked he was.

Rather than admitting to mistakes and deciding that the man they toted across the country as their personal serial killer detector deserved a rather large break, they attempted to discredit him and force him into dependency.

Not only did they not believe his “theory” (theory, really? He’s been right about every serial killer so far, but once it’s the man who saved your wife from cancer or whom you’re sleeping with, it’s suddenly “not an exact science” and “Will you’re sick—let’s not jump to conclusions”), but they also don’t believe he has the right to take care of himself.

If Will Graham hears one more whisper about checking him into the hospital on a more permanent basis because he “Obviously can’t take care of himself, I mean look at him—” he is going to ensure that only they will require institutionalism.

-

As a paranoid man, Will had a lot of avenues to stop shit he didn’t want happening. So the second that Alana and Jack attempted to place him on a psych hold, he called up his second psychiatrist (I mean, really- who would only get one medical opinion) and quickly had his bill of sound mind faxed to the hospital. The dismay on Alana’s face when she realized that she would not be the one to “save him” almost cheered him up from Will Graham having to Save Himself yet again.

-

The first thing to do when he got home was to straighten out the mess the FBI left behind. But he was just a guy who was having a crisis, so he went straight to his shower. And if there were more than waterdrops on his face and it tasted saltier than usual, who’s to say anything about it?

His dogs were certainly happy to see him back where he belonged (but doesn’t he wish there was another place he could have belonged, somewhere with gentle music drifting through large rooms with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and ostentatious dinner?)

-

Will Graham stared at his phone vibrating on the table where he was attempting to restore his handmade fishing lure collection. He was sure that if he picked up, he would listen to dulcet tones quote Dante, weird obscure theories, or whisper things only they knew he wanted, so instead, he conjured up the image of an ear staring at him from the chrome of his sink and focused on that. He thought about how his new lure would look amazing as an earring if he simply modified it, or maybe it would add charm to a centerpiece of a large wooden table.

He banished that thought and focused on the humor of the situation. A girl and a man going to great lengths to stage a crime scene he never showed up at, a girl losing a material piece of herself that would forever maim her, and all for what? A redneck-adjacent man to be the only one who realized their “brilliance” and decided that he didn’t care for it.

How embarrassing.

-

It had been a week, and honestly, Will thought Hannibal would be less pathetic and hold out for a few more days. But no, the bright lights of a Bentley (really?) illuminated his gravel drive, and hidden behind his sudden anger-fear-somethingelse he felt happy at the thought that some rocks might ruin the paint job.

But once feet hit the ground and started towards his door, he quickly picked up his shotgun from his side (where it's been all week) and swung the door open, cocking it, seeing wide eyes and—was that warmth—

“What do you want bastard?”

Notes:

This work was heavily inspired by Friends Don't Frame Friends: A Lesson for a Clueless Cannibal. Will's encephalitis is found by him after this and he sues Crawford and the FBI cause they really do be crossing lines and forcing him to do stuff, like MY GOD WHERE IS HR?!!? I do like the characters of Jack and Alana but in this fic they suck lmao. Hannibal escapes btw and is like a wounded puppy wanting Will to come and be with him.

It's one of my favorite fix-its, none of it happens because sometimes I just want a nice happy place to be for awhile.

I wasn't going for canon will graham in this fic but for the head canon one that is a disaster man and knows it. Also I was memeing a lot and thinking of hannibal memes.

That one post about different reactions to cats and "stinky bastard man" was stuck in my head, as you can probably tell.