UNCONTROLLABLE AND INSTANTANEOUS

~insanity and co~

Author's Note: I couldn't find a good beta for this, but it wasn't for lack of trying. I decided to post it now and when a beta comes along willing to go over this - *cough* - then I'll go through and correct mistakes. This isn't meant to be anything long, but I've been wanting to write something about the relationship between Abigail and Hannibal since...well...since I watched the first episode. Anybody else noticed that when I refer to this story as "U and I" it sort of has another meaning? That was completely unplanned, but it's a happy surprise that I want to share.

I hope you all enjoy, and please remember to review at the bottom and let me know what you think. :)

Hannibal stood with his hand on the door to his office, ready to close it but sensing something was off. His sharp eyes scanned the room, and Abigail's feet made the smallest noise as she stepped forward, smiling sheepishly when he relaxed and closed the door.

"I had one of those dreams again. I woke up screaming, though. I don't think I've done that since I was little. Like, really little."

Abigail stood frozen under his gaze for several moments on the upper portion of Hannibal's large office, listening to her quickening heartbeat thudding so loud in her ears she was sure he heard it. She could never feel this uncomfortable with anyone else. Dr. Bloom wore her expressions on her sleeve, the shock clear in the widening of her eyes and the way her mouth hung open for a moment too long. Will was unable to control the urges to visibly flinch away when he was bothered. And her father...he had been more than comfortable smiling and encouraging Abigail with any question or comment she had. It bothered her a bit, looking back on how open he had become with her in the last few years before he killed himself. He had never been so open with anyone else, even her own mother, and it felt like some wonderful privilage she had been denied up to that point. At times his expressions were intense. But never uncomfortable. She never felt like she was in any danger with her father.

But Hannibal was a different creature; he was entirely unreadable. He could be feeling the worst sort of hatred for her or the most beautiful love - she would never be able to know unless he wanted her - her specifically - to know of these emotions.

Despite the discomfort, she held his gaze and waited for any tick in his expression to give him away. There was hardly any acknowledgement directed towards her and if he wasn't looking directly at her - studying her - she would have easily been fooled into thinking he hadn't even heard her in the first place.

Abigail lifted her hand to hold her other arm, having grown out of the urge to hug both arms to her stomach, and shifted her weight. She didn't tear her eyes away from him, though. She refused to let him think she was unnerved by him at all...even if she was...just a little bit.

In an instant, the corner of his eyes creased and the edge of his mouth lifted into a tight smile. The nervousness that had her stomach in knots disappeared and she let go over her arm, feeling more relieved than she should have by a simple smile.

"It's difficult for people to control their actions while they sleep." His words were clipped but his steps to a bookshelf behind his desk were fluid.

"But it is possible?" Abigail came to the edge of the railing and rested her forearms on it, pulling her sleeves over her hands and inspecting the fraying fabric of her sweater carefully.

"With practice. It isn't easy, by any means." He turned to give Abigail a pointed look. "It is not something that you can merely...will to happen." Hannibal turned back to the bookshelf and ran a finger over the spines, going from row to row randomly until he finally found the book he was after. He pulled it out and flipped it open, moving back to his desk to lean against it. "It takes a disciplined mind to master this technique."

"Have you mastered it?"

"I am not the patient here," he said sternly, but the quip was warm - he did not wish to shut Abigail down. "I have never had a use for it. I don't get nightmares."

"That must be nice." Abigail sounded envious and the tight smile appeared on his face briefly.

"That is not to mean that my dreams are pleasant all the time. I rarely dream at all. I often wonder if that is a good thing, or a bad thing." Abigail glanced up from her sweater to see that Hannibal was staring at her. He flipped a few pages in his book and placed a piece of paper in that spot, closing it and holding it out to Abigail.

She moved to the ladder and stepped down, coming closer and grabbing the book from his loose grip.

"This chapter will give you an idea of the technique."

"It isn't something you can teach me here?" Abigail wanted to mentally smack herself; she hadn't mean to sound so hopeful.

"Some things need to be studied a bit before we discuss them. Read that chapter - yes the whole chapter-" he added when he saw the look on Abigail's face at the thought of homework, "-and then we can talk about how you can use it to help control the physical reactions you have to these nightmares. I'm afraid I also don't have the time to go over the whole topic during this impromtu session."

"You have another patient coming?"

"I do."

"It's nearly midnight." Abigail smirked, feeling victorious that she had argued him into a corner.

"I believe Will has a similiar problem to your own. I'm expecting a visit from him shortly." Abigail stares at Hannibal incredilously for a moment. It was a lame excuse to get her out of his office, but it was getting late. She felt a little guilty at holding him up when he probably wanted to go home and sleep. Despite the late hour, she felt awake - she never wanted to go to sleep again, in part for fear of having another gut-wrenching nightmare.

"Well, have a good night." She looked down at the thin book in her hands and folded the corner of the paper sticking out at the top. She moved to the door but stopped with her hand on the knob when Hannibal spoke.

"Make sure you get some rest." He smirked when her head snapped up, her neck cracking and her expression of shock - unhidden - was displayed for a split second through the pain in her neck. "Page 157 suggests it."

Abigail smiled and nodded, raising the book weakly in place of a wave. She shut the door behind her and panic flew through her when she heard rapid footsteps down the hallway. She gripped the book to her chest and dodged behind a large plant, her foot kicking the leg of the bench.

Whoever was racing to Hannibal's office paused and Abigail held her breath, only daring to peak between the leaves of the thick plant when she heard the doorknob turn. She was barely able to make out the curly hair of Will Graham before the door slammed shut behind him, echoing through the hallway and leaving Abigail frozen behind the plant, book held tightly against her chest.