A little ficlet inspired by a certain scene in the new It film. Basically an AU where Hannibal whispers murder to young Will from the television.
Will was no dummy. Small for his age, sure. A wimp if he were being honest. But what he lacked in strength and stature, he made up for in smarts.
And if smart people know one thing, it’s that the people in the television can’t see you. Which means that they can’t speak to you. Which means that the man in the suit with the dark eyes couldn’t possibly be calling Will’s name.
“You,” the man drawled, his accent thick and foreign. “There. Yes, you. Will Graham.”
Will’s little heart fluttered in his chest. In the recliner, Dad snored and let his book fall down into his lap.
“This isn’t real,” Will whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and counting to ten. When he opened them again, the man was still there, gazing with those hypnotic eyes.
“Will Graham. Where does your father keep his hunting knives?”
“You’re not real,” Will said to the television. “You can’t be real.”
“Yet I am.” The man smiled. Maniacal. Will knew that word because he was smart and smart people don’t talk to the television.
Will shot to his feet and turned the dial on the television to off. There was a thunk and the screen cut to black, swallowing the man and his smile. But as quickly as the picture had disappeared, it was back again.
“Not so quick, my little mongoose. I’m not finished with you just yet.”
Will’s palms began to sweat and he wiped them down the front of his jeans. “What do you want from me?”
“The knives, Will. Where does he keep them?”
With one trembling hand, Will pointed to the cabinet near the door. “Locked,” was the only word he could manage. Slowly, the man was drawing Will in with his gaze.
“Find the key,” the man whispered. “Find the key for me, Will, and we’ll be friends forever.”
“I don’t even know your name,” Will said, so close to the television now that the man’s face had dissolved into a collection of light and pixels, his eyes like two crimson beacons.
“Hannibal,” the man said. “You can call me Hannibal.”
Smiling now, head full of static, Will turned to his father.
hc where after spending a few days with team voltron, rebels and allies, lotor walks up to keith “you and the red paladin are together i take it?” keith rolls his eyes annoyed “i am the red paladin” at the prince’s silence, he realizes what he just said, old habits die hard i guess “oh, you mean lance” he finally looks up, face blushing immediatelly “wait-no, me and him-lance and i-we aren’t” keith sighs playing with his fingers “no, we are not” keith looks over his shoulder to see lance apparently laughing at something hunk said before turning back to the prince “have you ever been in love, lotor?” he just snorts “i don’t believe in such things as love” keith can see deep down he’s hurt but he’ll let it slide “of course” is lotor’s time to sigh “how about you?” keith’s hand tightens around his blade, thinking about most of his life "i never did“ he collects himself before turning to his team once again, smiling weakly this time ”but now i’m not so sure anymore“