Archive of Our Own

Will tried to move but couldn’t.  There was nothing obviously pinning him to his bed, but each time he told himself to move his body failed to respond.  His breathing came faster.  Something was very, very wrong.  He saw shadows moving out of the corner of his eye.  Was there someone - something - in the room with him?  

They were watching him.  They were watching him.  He was suddenly certain something was there with him, something that meant him harm.  He had to move, to get away.  His heart rate spiked.  Where were his dogs?  What had they done to his pack?

He screamed at himself to move, but no sound made it past his lips.  He felt as though he were floating, lifted above the bed, but he concentrated and could feel the sheets beneath his bare arms and legs.  

He hadn’t moved.  He couldn’t.  

He saw more movement from the edge of his vision and an odd, ringing sound seemed to fill the room, audible even over Will’s own panicked breathing.  

And then someone was there, standing at the foot of the bed.  At first Will couldn’t make them out but he could feel their presence.  It was as though whoever or whatever it was sucked the air out of the room, and Will felt strangled for breath.  

Breathe, he told himself.  Keep breathing.  

Will struggled to move and couldn’t while the thing at the foot of his bed watched him.  Will had the distinct feeling that it was pleased with what it was seeing.  

The foot of the bed dipped as though something heavy had placed its hands on either side of Will’s feet.  The figure was still shadowy, but Will had the impression of strength and bulk.  

The pressure on the bed moved slowly up his legs to his hips.  It was the feeling of someone crawling on all fours to move over him.  Breath ghosted across his stomach, his skin rippling beneath it.  And then there was at the sensation of damp; a tongue running over the skin of his abdomen.  It was strangely gentle; nearly erotic.  

And then what was crawling over him came into view, a face coming up over Will’s chest and then rising as the creature sat back on his chest to look at him.

Will’s first impression was that it was pale.  Its skin was fine like marble, its hair so blonde it was nearly white. Its shoulders were broad and defined, it’s chest smooth.  Its nipples were startlingly red against its skin.  It seemed human, and masculine, but Will felt that in truth it was neither - that this was merely what his mind was choosing to make of it.  The creature seemed to glow, the light surrounding it giving it the impression of wings behind it, as though it were some sort of fallen angel.  But even as the thought came to him Will felt this, too, was wrong.  It was regarding Will with deep, wine-red eyes, curious about him, like a child about to pull the legs off an insect.

It was stunningly beautiful.  And absolutely terrifying.  

It reached a hand out to touch Will’s hair with that same strange gentleness, long fingers - longer than normal, Will thought - running through his curls, and twirling one around a slender digit. 

The creature smiled, showing bright white teeth behind its too red lips. It removed its hand from Will’s hair, trailing the tips of its fingers over Will’s cheekbone, tracing the edge of his nose and over his lips, and then down his neck.  The touch was so light it tickled and if Will had been capable of making a sound - any sound - he would have laughed nervously.  

The fingers continued moving down his neck, past his collarbone, down his chest.  Then lower.  The creature shifted backward, hovering over Will’s legs.  And in at least one way it was decidedly male, or male presenting: it was erect, its sex full and thick and surprisingly pink for how pale the creature was.  

Its fingers ghosted over Will’s cock and Will swallowed, his throat tight with fear.  

When the creature’s fingers reached the head of his cock they roamed over it, traveling softly down the other side of his sex, down to his balls and then over them.  Will watched helplessly as the creature reached between his legs.  

A finger breached him and Will panted.  Please no, he thought.  He tried to yell and this time managed to make a strangled noise.  The creature looked up at him and grinned.  It was a smile with too many teeth.  

It lifted its weight from Will’s thighs and reached between his legs to shift them apart, giving itself space to settle between them.  

Will tried to close his eyes, to block out at least the visual of what came next.  To his surprise, the creature leaned over him, licking a stripe up his chest.  Its tongue flicked over a nipple and Will felt it harden under the attention.  And then the creature ran its nose over Will’s skin, inhaling deeply.  It moved slowly, the tip of its nose skating feather light up Will’s neck, the reverse of the path its fingers had taken.  

And then it was tilting Will’s head to the side and placing soft kisses along the skin under Will’s jaw.  It was gentle and intimate.  

And wrong.  

The wrongness of it was jarring.  Will tried to move, to squirm away, but his body still refused to respond to him. 

And then the creature was shifting Will’s legs further apart and Will felt the head of its cock against his entrance.  NO, he thought and tried to scream.  He managed sound again, but still no more than a gurgling noise.  The creature continue to kiss his neck, alternating with soft nuzzles, accompanied by deep inhales of Will’s sent.  

And then it was pressing inside.  

Will was not slick. He wasn’t ready, and the stretch of the creature’s cock was painful.  It began to move nearly immediately, giving him no time to adjust, and the dryness added to the pain.  

The creature had closed its eyes, its hands planted on either side of Will’s chest as it rocked its hips, rocking itself into him.  

Will wanted to scream.  He wanted to shove the creature off of him but he couldn’t.  He wanted to cry for the pain of it, but the tears would not come.  

The creature looked nearly rapturous as it moved within him, the movements becoming smoother and less painful as Will - against his will - began to get slick.  The creature felt the change and opened its eyes, grinning that toothy grin.  It paused its motions and shifted itself backward so that it was sitting between Will’s thighs.  Then it pressed its forearms beneath Will’s legs, lifting them and shift them backward, toward his chest.  

As it leaned forward it began to move again, changing its angle slightly.  

Will felt a tremor go down his spine.  The creature speed up its movements, fucking into him in earnest.  Will shifted his head back and in nearly the same instant realized he had moved.  

He tried to move his legs and arms and still couldn’t.  But he could shift his head from side to side.  He tried to focus on that, on the movement of his head rather than the movement of the creature inside of him.  

And then the creature released one of his legs and reached to cup Will’s jaw.  Will tried to turn away but long, cool fingers wrapped around him anyway, pressing firmly into his skin.  The creature lowered its lips to Will’s skin once more, kissing softly over the pulse in his neck.  

It felt good.  

Will didn’t want it to feel good.  

Stop, please.  He tried to make his mouth form the words.  A hoarse sound left his mouth.  He tried again, but before he could form words the creature’s lips were on his, its tongue pressing into his mouth.  

Bite him, Will thought.  His jaw clenched, but not enough.  The creature continued kissing him and thrusting into him, and Will began to grow frantic.  He could feel the first tremors of his body’s ultimate betrayal, and as the creature continued to fuck him his muscles began to clench around the creature’s cock.  Something was being stolen from him; something intangible forcibly taken.  Will wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come.  

He could feel the creature’s knot bumping against him.  He hoped the creature would finish soon.  At least then it would end.

Will didn’t fight - not that he could - as it pressed its knot inside of him.  Instead he fought his instinct, willing his body to relax and accept it and lessen the pain.  The stretch still burned as the creature buried itself fully inside of him, knot expanding to press against Will’s inner walls.  The creature made a noise - the first Will had heard it make.  It was a low groan, deep and sensual, as Will’s body responded, his muscles tightening around the creature’s cock as they began to spasm.  The creature pressed deeper still inside of him and Will could feel it coming. 

Leave, Will begged silently, willing the thing looming over him to hear him. The creature’s breathing began to even out.  Please. Just go.  The creature released the leg it still held and sat back, watching Will with curiosity in those deep red eyes.  It ran a hand over Will’s stomach, smearing the mess there.  Will’s skin rippled beneath its touch.  It sat back and looked at him, cocking its head.  

Move.  Another silent scream, this time at himself. 

Will sat bolt upright in bed, panting.  He was damp and sticky with sweat and - he placed his hand on his stomach - other things.  He winced and curved in on himself, torn between showering and curling into the sheets and hiding there.  

It was a dream, he told himself, although why his mind had conjured such a disturbing interaction was beyond him.  He felt hollow.  

Even knowing it hadn’t been real there was such a thorough sense of wrongness.  He reached down to check himself but abruptly stopped.  He still felt the phantom ache of penetration.

A dream, he told himself again.  A particularly vivid, particularly disturbing one, but nothing more than a dream. 

Several minutes later he stood in the shower, staring off into space.  He’d stripped the sheets to throw in the wash and let the dogs out with a murmured apology about breakfast before stepping under the water to scrub away sweat and grime and salt, lathering the soap once, twice, a third time and cleaning himself thoroughly, as though he could also slough away the memory.  

*

“Hypnagogia,” Hannibal pronounced.  “Hypnogogic hallucinations can manifest in a number of ways, but the sensation that someone is watching you is particularly common.  Did you experience any sleep paralysis? The sense of a threatening entity in the room with you?”

Or a threatening entity fucking you? Without consent?  Will couldn’t bring himself to think of the technical term.  He didn’t want to consider that his own mind had put that creature in front of him and had manufactured the sensations.  He was tired of his mind attacking him.

“Great, more hallucinations,” Will grumbled.  He’d told Hannibal he had a bad dream and felt people were watching him, but not about the creature.  He’d started to, or maybe he’d wanted to, but in the end he couldn’t. 

The corners of Hannibal’s mouth rose.  “These, however, are entirely normal.” 

“Nothing to be concerned about?” 

“I didn’t say that.”  Hannibal crossed his legs, resting clasped hands on his knee.  “This is the first time you’ve experienced hypnagogia?”

Will shook his head.  He was familiar with the term from his own psych classes, although he hadn’t connected it to his experience.  “I’ve had the normal experiences, I suppose.  Waking myself up with a jolt because I think I’m falling.  Nothing like this though.”

Hannibal looked at him thoughtfully.  “Stress is often a factor.  Inconsistent sleep patterns as well.”

“You’re about to tell me to stop consulting for Jack.”

“I think we’ve determined that is advice you have no intention of considering. Regardless of how it might benefit you.”  

Will fought a smile, knowing it was entirely inappropriate.  But Hannibal sounded so annoyed. He’d never heard the doctor sound irritated, and Will had pushed him plenty of times.  

Hannibal sighed.  He actually sighed, and Will bit the inside of his cheek.  “If you don’t intend to eliminate the major source of stress from your life, at least try keeping to a more consistent sleep schedule.  And don’t sleep on your back.”

“Sleeping on my back is a factor?” Will didn’t remember that.  

“Studies suggest it is.  Myths of the incubus, succubus, and other sleep demons have the commonality of a sensation of pressure on the chest.”

“Something that’s much harder to feel on your side or stomach,” Will said thoughtfully. “I’ll try that.”

Hannibal inclined his head. “How are you otherwise?”

Will shrugged.  His mind was still caught on the term sleep demons.  That made sense and fit with his dream.  Or hallucination, he supposed.  Knowing what it was made it less frightening but no less disturbing.  

Sensing Will’s thoughts were elsewhere, Hannibal deftly steered the conversation until Will pulled himself back into the moment.  They talked about his dogs and how they were doing, the books they were reading.  And then the hour was up and Hannibal poured them each a drink and put on a record and they moved closer to the fireplace. 

It was comfortable and Will felt relaxed and calm.  He didn’t think he’d have any trouble sleeping when he headed home that evening.  

And, at least initially, it didn’t seem that he would.  He walked the dogs and then crawled into bed and fell almost immediately into a deep sleep.  

He woke to the sensation of people watching him and a buzzing sound in the room.  Bees? he wondered.  Flies?  He tried to move but couldn’t.  Hypnagogia, he told himself.  Sleep paralysis.  

Naming what was happening didn’t make it less frightening, and didn’t lessen the feeling of dread.  Not again.  Will tried to force himself to move, his breathing fast and harsh with panic.  But like the night before Will was frozen.  But he’d eventually been able to move his head, meaning eventually the paralysis would wear off.  

It’s not permanent, he told himself.  You’ll be fine.

And then the edge of the bed dipped.  

No, Will thought.  No, not again.  He tried to scream.  He willed his body to move but it refused to respond.   

There was a suggestion of bulk in the shadows, and then the face of the creature appeared, cold and pale and beautiful, looming over Will and looking at him with that same curiosity.  It seemed pleased.  It was happy to have him there, helpless beneath it.  

It moved to crouch over him, caging Will’s chest and legs.  

He was on his back, he realized, and cursed himself.  He’d forgotten Hannibal’s advice.  

The creature began to kiss Will’s chest, its tongue flicking over first one nipple and then the other.  And Will wondered why his mind would conjure this.  The creature had done the same the night before, but his nipples had never been particularly sensitive.  They stiffened under the creature’s tongue, but Will had the distinct impression the creature wasn’t getting the reaction it wanted.  

Did it want Will to feel pleasure?  That was a strange thought, since Will was not - and physically could not - be an active participant.  And yet it had smiled when Will climaxed the night before.  Smiles didn’t necessarily mean pleasure and the creature was not human.  But Will still thought it had been pleased.

The creature moved on, kissing down Will’s sternum.  It shifted lower on the bed and then placed first one leg and then its other between Will’s legs, nudging Will’s wider as it did.  

Nononono, Will’s mind was crying on repeat.  

The creature kissed lower on Will’s stomach, nosing against the trail of hair that led to his groin.  

Will’s cock was thickening with the attention and he could feel himself beginning to slick.  He still couldn’t move any other part of his body.

I don’t want this, he thought, willing his body not to respond.  The creature gripped Will’s cock in his hand and once again Will had the sensation that its fingers were too long.  It licked a stripe up the underside of Will’s shaft and Will moaned involuntarily.  

He’d made a sound, and more than a gurgle.  Please stop, he tried to say, but his mouth wouldn’t form the words.  He moaned again when the creature’s lips moved to the head of his cock and its mouth parted around it, taking Will deep.  

Its mouth was warm, too warm for a human.  Demon, Will’s mind supplied.  One his mind had conjured.  The creature bobbed its head on Will’s cock, the suction of its mouth drawing Will closer and closer to an edge he did not want to approach.  

The creature’s other hand fondled Will’s balls and then moved lower.  Two fingers pressed into him, and Will moaned again and they curved inside him, seeking and finding the spot that - had he been able to cry out - would have made him cry with pleasure.  He could feel his body shivering with pleasure, threatening to shake apart from the overload of sensation.  

The two fingers inside him became three and then four, and then Will was coming hard down the creature’s throat.  

It continued sucking and fingering Will until he wanted to scream with the overstimulation, but he was still unable to move or speak.  His body’s only functions seemed to be involuntary.  

As the creature continued its ministrations, Will moved past overstimulation and the sensations began to feel good again.  He could come again, he realized.  He would if the creature didn’t stop.  

He didn’t want to, and yet his body felt primed for it, like it was aching for a second release.  Was this why his mind was manufacturing this creature?  He wasn’t getting enough when he was awake?

The creature pulled off Will’s cock and removed its fingers from inside of him.  It stroked a hand down Will’s stomach, Will’s skin rippling beneath the touch.  Then it pressed up on its knees, looking at Will with those deep red eyes and stroking its cock over Will’s stomach.  Its knot was partially swollen and as it shifted back Will knew it intended to penetrate him again.  

He felt the head of the creature’s cock pressing against him and then in.  It was more pleasurable this time, his body producing slick and loose and pliant from his earlier orgasm.  

The creature began to rock inside of him.  Will wanted to close his eyes.  He hoped it finished quickly.  

He didn’t want it to feel good.  But once again his body was responding, an ache deep within him building in heat.  He felt the creature’s knot pressing against him and then inside and the creature moaned, the sound surprisingly high pitched, as Will’s body clenched around its cock and Will came for the second time.  

Will bolted upright.  He didn’t have a memory of the creature leaving - more evidence it was a dream, Will supposed.  His body ached.  His face was damp and he raised a hand to his cheek.  He didn’t remember crying.  

The knowledge that it was a dream - no, hallucination - still did little to soothe him.  He made his way to the shower and soaped himself until he was raw.  Why was his mind coming up with this scenario? 

He looked at the clock.  It was early and he hadn’t gotten much sleep.  It felt like he’d gotten none at all.  But despite Hannibal’s comments on a consistent sleep schedule, Will couldn’t bring himself to get back in bed.  

Instead he let the dogs out, went for a run, and then took the dogs on a walk.  He made a pot of coffee and drank most of it.  

And then he made his way to work.  

*

Over the next several weeks Will tried everything he could think of to keep himself from hallucinating the creature.  A consistent sleep schedule didn’t work, and Will couldn’t seem to keep from sleeping on his back.  He wouldn’t fall asleep that way, but each night he would wake up to the creature climbing up his chest.  

He bought a husband pillow and tried to sleep upright in his bed.  When he still ended up on his back he decided to sleep in his armchair, but he must have made his way to his bed while half asleep.  He finally set up his bedroom upstairs, thinking maybe a change of scenery would help.  It didn’t.  He left the dogs for a night, much as he hated to do so, and booked a hotel, but his hallucinations followed him there.  

Which made sense, Will supposed, if it was something created in his own mind.  

Finally Will turned to online forums for people experiencing sleep paralysis.  Some people suggested sleeping with the TV on to a channel with static.  Will considered but didn’t want to buy a TV just to play static, so instead he bought a white noise machine.  

When that didn’t work he did buy the TV, but returned it a few days later.  

Finally he resorted to keeping himself awake as much as possible.  Experts might recommend a consistent sleep schedule, but it wasn’t working.  Nothing was working.   And Will thought maybe if he exhausted himself enough … maybe he wouldn’t ‘wake’ to the creature anymore.  

All he accomplished was getting deeper and darker circles under his eyes.  

*

“You don’t look well, Will,” Hannibal observed.  

Will didn’t feel particularly well.  He’d been staring into space and turned to look at Hannibal.  He felt as thought his body was lagging behind him; his eyes moved before the rest of his head.  It was too heavy to shift it quickly.  

“I can’t sleep,” he whispered.  He wasn’t sure why he was whispering. “I can’t.  It - it happens every night.”

Hannibal’s expression shifted from one of mild concern to one of intense concern.  He pushed himself out of his armchair - was it Will’s imagination, or were the chairs very close together? - and took the few steps separating them to crouch in front of Will.  

He put one hand gently on Will’s knee and placed the other on Will’s forehead.  

“You’re not warm,” Hannibal said.  “Hypnagogia, still?”

“It’s,” Will started, not sure if he could finish.  “It comes every night.  It fucks me.  I can’t make it stop.”  It was the first time he’d said it.  The first time he’d acknowledged it.  

“What?” Hannibal’s hand tightened on his knee.  

“The creature,” Will said, still whispering and still unsure why.  “It’s - it’s beautiful but I don’t - I don’t want it, and it won’t stop.  Every night it comes.  The sleep demon.”  He closed his eyes and felt his body roll forward, his head colliding with Hannibal’s chest.  He felt better that way.  His head was too heavy to hold up.  

A moment later he realized what he was doing, cleared his throat and started to pull away.  But Hannibal placed a hand on the back of Will’s head, a gentle pressure Will could easily have shaken if he wanted.  Instead he allowed himself to sink deeper into Hannibal and felt the doctor’s hand stroking through his hair.  It was soothing, and he was so, so tired.  He closed his eyes.  

“Why would I want that? Why would I imagine that happening to me?  When I don’t - when it’s not what I want?” he asked.  “It’s my hallucination.  It’s my mind.  But I can’t make it stop.”  

Hannibal said nothing but continuing stroking through Will’s hair. “I get slick every night,” Will admitted.  “Like I want it.  And I - I come every time.  But I don’t want it. I don’t.”

“It’s an involuntary response,” Hannibal said.  “It’s your body reacting to stimuli.  It’s protecting you from pain, as much as it can.  It’s not your fault.”

Will nodded.  He knew all of that.  But knowing and knowing were two different things, and he couldn’t seem to internalize it.  Every night his mind and his body worked to betray him.  

It wasn’t real, but it felt real.  

Hannibal’s arms came around Will’s back.  It was an awkward embrace, but one Will sank into nonetheless.  He had the vague sensation of being moved and thought he’d opened his eyes immediately after, but when he finally did it felt much later.  

“Did I fall asleep?” he asked.  He was stretched out on the chaise in Hannibal’s office.  A fire was going and Hannibal was at his desk, making notes.  Or maybe drawing.  He looked up, meeting Will’s eyes.  

“You did, yes.”

“Sorry,” Will said sheepishly, rubbing his face.  

“You needed it.”  

Will nodded.  That was certainly true.  

“You can stay,” Hannibal offered.  “You seemed to be sleeping soundly.”  

Will realized he had been.  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but he’d gotten some actual rest that was, thankfully, dream and hallucination free.  He was tempted.  Maybe he could actually sleep through the night.  

But he didn’t want to wake up in Hannibal’s office, covered in sweat and semen.  He didn’t want to damage Hannibal’s furniture.  

He didn’t want to embarrass himself.  

“Thanks, but I should get home to my dogs,”  Will said.  

“You’re ok to drive?” 

“After that nap?”  He tried to smile.  “Yeah.  I feel a lot better, thank you.”  

“If this continues, we should get you to a sleep study.  There are medications that sometimes help if we can determine an underlying cause.”  

Will was quiet.  He knew Hannibal was right, but that didn’t make the idea any more appealing. Still, he wanted it to stop. 

“You’re my friend Will.  I care about your well-being,” Hannibal added.  And Will could only swallow harshly and nod jerkily in response.  “Call me if you need me,” Hannibal said as he saw Will out.  He gave Will’s shoulder a squeeze.  

“I will,” Will agreed.  

*

Will slept straight through the night; no dreams, no hallucinations, no sleep demons.  

He woke feeling more rested than he had in longer than he could remember and with the hope that it was over.  Maybe admitting it to Hannibal had been enough to drive the hallucinations away.  And as much as Will hadn’t wanted to voice what was happening to him, and wasn’t particularly excited about the idea of digging deeper into his own mind’s machinations with Hannibal, he had to admit he felt lighter, having unburdened himself.  

Will went through the day feeling good.  He felt more energetic during his lectures and his students seemed more engaged.  He got coffee with Alana and enjoyed spending the time with her.  His lunch even tasted better.  

And when Hannibal stepped into the lab for a consultation Will smiled at the doctor, causing Beverly to raise an eyebrow at him.  

He still felt slightly nervous getting into bed, but as he was falling asleep he relaxed.  It would be fine.  

And then he felt hot breath against his inner thigh.  

He’d fallen asleep on his stomach and, unlike his other experiences where he seemed to have moved or rolled he was still on his stomach.  

The breath moved up his thigh to his ass, tongue trailing along his skin.  He felt goosebumps rising in its wake and a shudder went through him.  

No, he sobbed silently.  Please no.  It was supposed to be over.  This wasn’t supposed to be happening.  

He felt the creature’s hands on his ass, its fingers groping and spreading his cheeks, and then its tongue in his most intimate of places.  His cock hardened, trapped between his stomach and the sheets, and he began to get slick.  

Will didn’t fight.  He couldn’t, physically, but even his mental arguments seemed to have evaporated.  Even if he had been able to move he would have remained limp, not fighting or participating but laying there and taking it until the creature finished.  

He came as he always did, his cock pulsing against his stomach and staining the sheets.  The creature groaned overtop of him and kissed down his back, and the tenderness the creature displayed made it worse.  What did it think this was? 

Will didn’t jolt out of bed.  After the creature left - or his mind told him it had left, because as usual the creature seemed to evaporate like the dissolving of a dream - he drifted back into sleep.  He woke in the same position he’d fallen asleep, his stomach sticking to the sheets.  The faintest light was creeping in through the window, the first hint of dawn.  

He got up, showered, threw the bedsheets in the laundry, and took the dogs out for a walk.  He wondered if he should feel a sense of dread, or the same shame he’d felt the first time.  

He felt nothing.  It was as though he’d gone numb inside.  It didn’t hurt him anymore.  It couldn’t.  

*

Will dragged himself through the next week.  He gave up trying to avoid the nightly encounters with his mind-conjured creature.  The thought that he was doing this to himself, somehow, only made him feel more inured to what was happening.  

He went to sleep on his back.  He kept his white noise machine off.  He stopped fighting sleep but still found it hard to actually fall asleep, as thought a part of him refused to give up.  

That part of him was foolish.  This was his reality now.  It was easier if he accepted it.    

He briefly considered asking Hannibal if he could sleep in the Alpha’s office again.  Hannibal’s presence that night had kept the creature away somehow, but he reconsidered almost immediately.  What was the Alpha supposed to do - sleep with Will every night?  And when would that inevitably stop working?  Will thought he might get a night or two of undisturbed sleep out of it but he was certain the creature would return eventually, even with Hannibal there.  

Will felt ill most mornings, tired and sick from a lack of sleep.  He was jittery from trying to wake himself up with too much caffeine.  He often felt off balance and slightly dizzy.  And he hadn’t been good about eating breakfast, his stomach constantly turning in the mornings.  

It made early morning crime scenes tough.  He wondered how little sleep he was getting, or if the quality was just that poor, because he’d been sleep deprived before and felt ill from it before, but he’d never fought quite that much nausea.    

And still the creature came.  And once it was done it nosed down Will’s chest and stomach and placed kisses over Will’s abdomen, smearing the mess Will had left there.  It had never done that before and the small part of Will’s mind that refused to concede registered it as odd - but then the creature had often kissed him lovingly, especially after it finished.  

Will’s t-shirts had begun to rub uncomfortably against his nipples.  The creature liked to play with them, despite Will’s lack of sensitivity, and yet they had become strangely sensitive from the creature’s attention.  

Strange, what the mind can do, Will mused.  He knew it wasn’t really happening, but his body felt the effects of it anyway.  Or maybe he’d been pinching himself in his sleep.  

And then the creature stopped appearing.  

Will didn’t dare to believe it was the end.  Not after the first night, not after the second, not even after the third when the creature still failed appear.  

Had his brain finally realized he couldn’t continue this way?  Or maybe the creature was hibernating, somewhere in the recesses of his grey matter, biding its time until Hannibal stopped asking Will if he’d submit to a sleep study.  

But by the end of a week without the creature he was beginning to hope it wouldn’t return, and maybe he would start sleeping better and feeling better.  

The creature still didn’t make an appearance, but Will wasn’t feeling any better.  He still woke up feeling tired and sick.  His shirts still felt too tight against his body.  And Jack calling him at 4 in the morning to head to a crime scene wasn’t helping matters.  

Hannibal offered him a muffin when he arrived.  Will took it gratefully, but the smell was too strong.  

“I’ll eat it later,” he said apologetically.  “I’m not feeling that well this morning.”

Hannibal looked him over with an expression of mild concern and reach out to trace the circles under Will’s eyes with his thumb.  “We need to get you into that sleep study, Will.”

Will shook his head.  ‘“I haven’t experienced … hypnagogia in over a week.  I’m not sure why I’m not feeling better.”

Hannibal frowned at that, but their attention was caught by the crime scene.  It was practically bloodless compared to some of the other scenes Will had witnessed but he still walked away from it feeling more unsteady than usual.  He tripped over something in the path on the way back to his car.  He wasn’t sure what; for all he knew he’d tripped over his own two feet.  

Hannibal caught him by the elbow.  

“Are you alright, Will?” Hannibal asked.  Will nodded, but the motion seemed to tilt the world, and then suddenly everything was tilting, and he was engulfed in the scent of Alpha.  Had Hannibal smelled that strongly in the past?  Will couldn’t remember registering it before, but it there was something soothingly earthy about Hannibal’s scent.  Beneath that, there was the strangest hint of copper.

“Oh,” Will said, when he realized the only thing holding him up was Hannibal.  And then, a moment later, “I don’t feel well.”  

It was good thing Hannibal was a doctor, and probably used to that sort of thing.  Or so Will tried to tell himself, as he also tried to tell himself not to be embarrassed.  He failed on both counts.  Hannibal might have been nice about it, but he’d still been sick on the Alpha’s extremely expensive shoes. 

*

Hannibal sat with him in the doctor’s office, having insisted on driving him there.  Which was probably for the best.  He’d eaten the muffin Hannibal gave him on the way - very, very slowly - and was feeling better, but when they’d left he was still feeling woozy.  

The med tech had taken blood - which had nearly caused him to pass out again- and asked him for a urine sample.  His temperature was slightly elevated but his other vitals were good.  Then they mentioned giving him a pregnancy test.  

Will laughed derisively at that one.  The only time he’d had sex recently was in his dreams. 

They gave him a fruit punch box box after he’d nearly passed out from the blood draw and he was drinking it slowly, trying not to think.  

“How are you feeling?” Hannibal asked.  

Will wrinkled his nose.  “Better. I feel like a child, though.”  He raised his juice box. 

“Why are juice boxes only for children?” Hannibal asked.  It was a reasonable question, but not one Will had expected.  

“I’m not sure,” he said with a shrug.  They lapsed into silence as they waited for the doctor too reappear.  Will leaned back in his chair and inhaled.  Hannibal’s scent still seemed stronger but it was still soothing.  He was grateful not to have to speak.  Hannibal was good about that.  He could allow silence, he didn’t have to fill it.  

A few minutes later the door opened and the doctor peeked her head in.  She was a relatively tall, dark haired Beta woman who smiled pleasantly at Will when she entered.  

“Well,” she said.  “You’re pregnancy test was positive, and that explains your symptoms.  We’re sending your bloodwork to the lab and will be in touch with the results, but in the meantime I’m going to prescribe a prenatal vitamin. How bad have the morning sickness and lightheadedness been?”

“Um, what?” Will stared at her, trying to take in her words.  

The doctor laughed.  Her laugh was pleasant and kind.  “I’m sorry,” she said.  “I started right in on you didn’t I.  Congratulations, you’re pregnant.”

“That’s not possible.” Will felt Hannibal’s hand rest on his arm.  He was aware of Hannibal saying something to him, but not the specific words.  The doctor said something as well, but the words buzzed in the air.  A buzzing noise, like when the creature came … 

Will squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the arms of his chair.  

“I apologize,” Hannibal said smoothly.  “This is a bit of a surprise.”

“I gather you weren’t trying.”

“No,” Hannibal said.  Will caught the briefest hesitation; he’d probably considered clarifying that they weren’t a couple and then decided against it.  Will opened his eyes and turned to look at Hannibal.  The expression on the Alpha’s face was unreadable.  

“Well Mr Graham, I understand how an unplanned pregnancy can take you by surprise, and I’ll let you two talk about it,” the doctor beamed at Hannibal.  “I’ll just get your prescription ready, and you’ll want to make a follow-up appointment with an OBGYN.”

Will nodded, unsure what else to do.  

The moment she was gone he put his head in his hands.  “It’s impossible,” he said.  “They were dreams.  Hallucinations. Hypnagogia.  It wasn’t real.”

“Will,” Hannibal began hesitantly.  “Was there anyone - did something happened, that perhaps you’ve been reluctant to discuss?”

“You mean besides a sleep demon fucking me against my will every night?” Will asked forcefully.  Hannibal stroked Will’s arm soothingly.  And Will knew, he just knew the Alpha was thinking Will’s mind had come up with a cover story for something else, something worse.  

What other explanation was there?  That an otherworldly creature had impregnated him?  

Except that Will knew that was the only explanation.  There was nothing else.  

It hadn’t been real.  

But there was something growing inside of him.  He thought of his symptoms, everything he’d connected to his poor sleep, and put a hand to his stomach. It was there.  It was real.  

I want it out of me, he thought.  He tried but couldn’t voice the words.  And even as he thought them, he thought of the creature kissing over his belly, the strangely loving way it would treat him after it finished.  This had probably been its goal.  It wasn’t human, Will doubted it even saw what it had done to him as a violation.  

“I feel sick,” Will said.  Hannibal stood and reached for the trash can but Will shook his head. He didn’t need it.  Yet, anyway.  

“What am I going to do?” He asked Hannibal, as the Alpha sat back down next to him.  His voice sounded very small.  “What do I have inside of me?  What am I going to do?”

Hannibal put his palm over Will’s hand.  Will looked at the Alpha, who was looking back at him earnestly, and turned his hand to lace their fingers together.  

“Whatever it is, Will, I will be here with you.”  Will nodded.  Hannibal squeezed his hand and Will tensed and then told himself to relax.  He was shocked and frightened and he was imagining things.  Hannibal’s hand in his felt warm and secure, and Will felt calmer with the contact.   

But for the briefest of moments, Hannibal’s fingers felt far too long.