Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Doctor Lecter’s office was lovely, elegant, and quite fit for a range of Doms and subs to find comfort in. Oddly enough, that included littles. Which wasn’t odd that Doctor Lecter didn’t exclude littles as patients, just that he seemed so elegant, and the soft lines of Will’s life as a little didn’t seem like it would fit into the doctor’s world of high class society and fine decor. 

Will knew Hannibal was a caregiver, so of course the man would pander to littles as well, but… his office always seemed so big and adult to Will. He hadn’t expected to be comfortable there when coming for his latest appointment halfway in littlespace had been taken so easily in stride, Hannibal taking his coat and hat like usual before leading Will to the middle of the room. 

On one side, was their usual meeting spot, and on the other side of Hannibal’s desk, after Hannibal turned on the lights for Will to properly see the area for the first time, was a proper littles corner. 

“I’m sure you’ve never had reason to look here, beyond the wandering eye, but as I tell all my little patients when they need it, they could stay here for the duration of their appointment.”

It wasn’t like… not like the littles corners Will grew up with? Back in high school, when he’d first started having issues holding onto big or little headspace, they had made sure he knew where the littles care room was. It was a poor high school, so a lot of the stuff was donated, but they had soft playmats of foam and a big blue toy box that overflowed with donated playthings. It was easy enough to decide you’re done raising kids and donate childhood toys to a poor school, but they had at least looked nice and scrubbed clean. 

There had been other stuff, a nice caretaker that kept the room clean and let littles cuddle up to her when they were vulnerable, but the overall memory clashed with what Will saw now. 

These weren’t well loved but old toys. The playmat wasn’t foam pieces that fit together and have the letters of the alphabet on them. There weren’t packages of recyclable-throwaway bottles and pacis for kids who didn’t have their own or forgot them.

This was… honestly? It was a look at what caregiving was like for the uber rich. Will wasn’t stupid, he knew Hannibal was both wealthy and had clients that could buy and sell actual people, but he just didn’t expect that aesthetic to roll over to littles. It just seemed an athama not to have plastic army men and ugly clashing playmats. 

The rug on the floor looked plush, spanning the entire play area, and sinfully soft. It had paisley designs in pastel rainbow throughout the whole area. The toybox at the side wall, the same wall Will entered the room at, was… mahogany? It was expensive wood, and the designs carved into it looked like forest animals and grassy tree areas. It’s lid was open, and a few toys were set on the carpet around them. Carved wooden ducks on a rope, a plush rabbit that looked like it was made of silk and wool, a set of hand knit soft blocks to play with. Not the kind you can stack, the kind you put in babies hands so they can’t hurt themselves on the hard ones. 

There was a smaller toybox of wooden blocks, painted in fancy patterns and colours. Most of these toys were handmade and probably cost over fifty dollars each. 

Then there was the biggest kitchen playset Will had ever seen. It looked like it was fully wood and soft plastics, a sink and oven and stovetop. It kind of made him want to play a little. Will wondered why the sink inlay was plastic, but after a look at the area itself, he realized there must have been a water pump for the littles to play with in the back. Sensory toys were nice. 

But. He wished Hannibal had fishing toys. He liked his wooden playrod and box of plastic fishies to play with at home, personally. He had the biggest playset for his fishies and his vet stuff. But playsets had always been Will’s weakness. Pretending to be a doctor or chef or craftsman? Those were the best toys sometimes. 

But it was so odd. The little river fishing and veterinary playsets he had at home were both made of sturdy plastics and looked like they’d fit in at a regular daycare center, this one looked exactly like what it was; belonging to the rich and troubled of Baltimore. It was odd, because while Will could identify with the toys and playsets, he couldn’t identify with the origins and compositions. 

Do Hannibal’s little clients have toys like this at home? Fancy wooden blocks that aren’t chewed on by a pup Will was still trying to get to stop gnawing on his toys? Do they have expensive playsets that cost at least a thousand dollars? Fancy stuffies that look hand stitched and hand washed to keep them clean and looking new at all times?

It was so odd to think of. That Will had never considered this sort of thing before really said something about the nuances of littles in media as well, considering he hadn’t even seen the idea of class-different playsets on tv. 

He could see some fancy little girl with pigtails and big eyes, sitting in front of the toy box, looking for a specific item in a pretty little sundress and makeup. It didn’t seem right, in a way, but he knows it’s a real vision. Her imprint was so strong right here. She was looking for… she wanted the princess carriage. 

Will’s eyes glazed over a little, something Hannibal noted, but didn’t comment on as Will toed off his shoes without being asked, and wandered over to the toy chest, pulling out a bag of wooden painted pastry parts for the kitchen set -in the wrong place, Hannibal noted as he wondered if his last little patient had been rearranging his space again- and pulled out a wooden box at the bottom of the chest. 

Hannibal raised an eyebrow in amusement as Will seemed to come back to himself, opening up the box and pulling out a handmade princess carriage. It was meant to fit the custom dolls Hannibal kept in a display case along the wall on the other side of the play area. Will ran his fingers along the lines of the carriage, thin metal framing and stained glass windows on the sides. It was easily the most expensive toy in the box. Hannibal had been enchanted by the find, as well as a few of the girls he had for therapy. He needed to get a display case for the beauty. He’s only had it a few months, but it seemed a shame to put it at the bottom of a toy chest instead of displayed. He’d only really put it there to encourage the more cautious of his patients to think of it as a toy, and not a decoration. 

He wondered what gravitated Will to this piece of all things, but with the sweet smell of sickness clinging to the littles skin, Will’s empathy was leading to hallucinations and an inability to control the visions at times. 

“You’re the second patient I’ve had today to search for this one.”

Will hummed in acknowledgment, eyes still glassy as he ran over the spokes of the metal wheels. “She wanted to go to the ball. Her caregiver has a party planned today, and she wanted to practice her dancing by going to the ball.”

Hannibal’s smile widened, and he knelt down on the soft carpet next to Will. “Yes, she asked if I could help her through a waltz, since her mommy’s parents are coming, and her grandpa wanted to have a special dance with her like he did all his children and grandchildren.”

Will’s eyes lost the majority of his shine, and he put the carriage back in it’s box as carefully as he could. “You never ask how I know that stuff.”

Hannibal couldn’t fault him for that thought. “No, but I don’t need to. No one asks how you know about crime scenes, only that you do. The impressions of their thoughts come to you, and you become them.”

Will gently set the box down, and looked Hannibal in the eyes. “You let her stand on your feet for a waltz.”

Hannibal just looked far too amused from that. “I admit, I might have taken a short break to have a bit of fun with a happy girl. It’s not every day I can forgo my gentle prodding to let a little actually play in my presence. I’m often required to keep them on track for their mental health.”

Will snorted, moving to sit more comfortably next to the toy chest. “She was very happy today. I guess a little play can’t hurt.”

Hannibal nodded. “Would a little play hurt you, young Will?”

Will seemed to think that over for a long moment, before shrugging. “I don’t have any playmates I can go to. Price, Zeller and Katz are all switches and not on the ageplay scale at that, Uncle Jack is too busy trying to ‘keep my sticky fingers out of every germ filled book I find’ to properly play with me most of the time. I’m thinking maybe I should invite him over to my place the next time he tells me I need to drop and he’ll babysit. My playroom is properly babyproofed, and his house isn’t. At least then I could play with my puppies.”

Hannibal gave a little hum, a hand coming up to cautiously place on Will’s shoulder, before moving to stroke the man’s neck when he didn’t startle the way he did when he was big. “And does Uncle Jack understand that if you’re to have a properly restful time in headspace, you need boundaries you can’t cross on your own?”

Will looked at him curiously. “Boundaries I can’t cross on my own?”

Hannibal thought that over for a moment. “Like a playpen, or your playroom, which you say is properly babyproofed. You can’t cross the boundaries of the playpen, because you know that’s not allowed. You don’t leave your playroom, because you know the rest of your house isn’t babyproof. Unless you do-?”

Will shook his head, understanding. “No no, I stay in my playroom. I keep the door open so the puppies can come and go, but I don’t leave. I have a mini fridge up there for my snacks and drinks. Little Will makes messes in the kitchen.”

“Does if ever feel like a burden to have to preemptively predict little Will’s needs to keep your playroom safe for him?”

Will shrugged. “No? I mean, if I had a regular caregiver, not just going over to Uncle Jack’s house for babysitting, but if I had a real caregiver, I’d probably not like having to take care of little me, because it would feel like they don’t care enough to. But that’s not how that is. I’m a little, but I’m also a functioning adult.”

Hannibal nodded along, looking pleased. “Well, that sure does make sense knowing you. An independent little boy. But that doesn’t mean my playroom, or this play space, isn’t always available for you to be safely tiny in.”

Will looked around in interest, reaching out for the bag of soft knit blocks, pulling them over. “Did you know Auntie Bella knits? She made me a lovie once. I sleep with it when I feel small.”

It’s a good thing Jack and Bella weren’t so attached to the idea of having a little of their own. The borderline caregivers were happy to have playdates with him, but they liked being auntie and uncle, not mommy and daddy. Will was glad he wasn’t attached enough to them for that to be an issue. 

Maybe Hannibal was right thought. Maybe he should suggest a playpen so Jack doesn’t spend half the time pulling shiny objects out of his hands and mouth. Will thought that was funny, Jack pretended he didn’t find it funny, and Bella did not find it funny. 

He pulled out a nice looking baby block, squishing it with a giggle. It was soft, but there was a squeaker in it. He couldn’t hold back the giggles as he did it again. It had a nice feel, soft wool and cable knit pieces for a swirly texture that made Will’s insides happy. 

Hannibal was still running a hand through his hair… no, he’d been holding his neck earlier, but now he was in his hair, making him feel soft and warm inside. 

“Yes, I’ve seen the lovely throw blanket Jack keeps in his office.”

Will nodded excitedly. “Uncle Jack doesn’t use that blankie much himself, but when I have to go down for naps at the office, he tucks me in with it and it’s nice and cozy!”

Hannibal was enchanted with the little as Will aged down. The squeaker in the soft blocks seemed to have been the catalyst of the drop, probably because of his pack, but the little was small and sweet before either of them could comprehend the coming change. 

It was fairly unorthodox to use your time in therapy to go into headspace, but Hannibal wasn’t here to rule all his patients' lives. Annie, the six year old headspace little that Will had gotten visions of, had spent a good twenty minutes playing and getting Hannibal to dance with her, and the last twenty-five sitting on the rug talking about a bad conversation she’d had with her biological mother that had left her shaken this week. That was the kind of therapy and care she needed from him. She rarely, if ever, left headspace properly, so her level of care was that you would give to a small child; something they needed, but without a level of seriousness that could alarm them. It was a lot of Hannibal monitoring her to dissect what she needed in her life, and talking about what’s leftover. 

Will, on the other hand, had a very firm line between his littlespace, and his bigspace. He could handle those serious conversations, and give back with just as much force as Hannibal did. They could banter, they could philosophize, they could talk around the scary things Will dealt with as an adult, and how they affected him as a little, later on. 

Little Will, on the other hand, didn’t get a chance to come out in a peaceful way as often. He quite obviously felt both relaxed and safe at the moment, something which made Hannibal feel a small amount of pride, mostly that his little fawn felt able to relax and show his belly to him. And Hannibal hadn’t even really started to court Will in the way he’d been planning to one day. 

Little Will didn’t get to come out much in a safe environment with a caregiver who genuinely wanted to be a full time caregiver. Jack and his lovely wife took care of Will when he needed it, but they were more in tune with each other and their jobs than a little. Hannibal, on the other hand, had been flitting from caregiver position to caregiver position, from the tender age of childhood. 

If little Will, whom Hannibal has only met a handful of times, and this being the first time alone, wanted to come out in a safe place so he could relax and enjoy himself without worrying about taking care of himself later, Hannibal was both happy to do it, and willing to accept that this was the form of therapy Will needed at the moment. 

And Hannibal was nothing, if not a little bit obsessed with Will. If he gave Will these positive littlespace interactions, big Will would likely lower his guard more too. Hannibal’s mind sparked on that, and he reached out to run a hand over the little’s head, less soothing than running through those soft curls, more attention grabbing. “Will, I would like to propose an idea. Something that I want you to think about and not give me an answer now.”

He wanted this idea to fester till even big Will couldn’t hold back the yes. Will looked up at him with too large, too trusting eyes, blinking trustfully at him. “Yes, Doctor Lecter?”

That was odd then, wasn’t it? Will rarely called him that, and during their appointments it was more often Hannibal. Will seemed like the type of little to adopt a moniker for the people that took care of him while little. Uncle Jack and Auntie Bella, those weren’t titles he used while big, even when Hannibal gently teased them out when he considered the two of them to be too overprotective at the moment. He smiled softly, a way he struggled with most people, but came so easily when he looked at his little pet, fond. “I would like play dates between us to be a regular thing. Not here at my office, but at my home or yours. I think the relaxation can be just as therapeutic for you as our chats could come to be. I don’t want an answer now, as that is not an answer for little boys to give, but I would like you to consider if you actually find this session soothing enough to repeat.”

Will seemed to think that over for a bit, before nodding, that look of little boy seriousness in his eyes that made Hannibal want to press a kiss to his forehead and give him a treat. “Yes, Doctor Lecter.” 

Oh, his dear sweet boy was such a joy. Hannibal was beyond delighted to see the little lower his guard enough to feel vulnerable around him. As far as Hannibal knew, Will hated being little around any other professionals. Even Alana, as renowned of a littlespace physiatrist as she was, had struggled with getting Will little outside of untethered incidents that lead to little Will being led to her office with the promise of a candy if he had a talk with her while he played. Little Will hadn’t so much been trusting, as understanding that Uncle Jack was busy with work and didn’t have the time to play with him at the moment, and it was that or a nap in Jack’s office. Will, his stubborn little Will, had twice chosen the nap option. 

It was why Will just couldn’t be Alana’s patient. He just didn’t trust her enough. Hannibal, on the other hand, was gaining that trust himself, mostly with manipulation, but a little manipulation could do a man like Will a world of good when he struggled to find balance on his own, or ask for help. 

Either way, he couldn’t spend the whole session petting Will’s hair, much as he would love to, he had no doubt it would eventually overwhelm the boy, so he stood to go back to his desk, and grabbed a sketchbook and his pencils. He moved to sit next to a low table the littles would use to colour at, and placed the sketchbook down, watching Will as he deliberated between hand carved blocks and the kitchen playset. Hannibal personally hoped Will chose the playset. It had been a favorite of Hannibal’s since the day he finally got it back from the specialty maker. 

Will chose neither, which wasn’t bad, but very curious. The little was pulling out all the toys, watching over them calculatingly, before pulling things out of their boxes and bags. What followed was an in depth game of organization and soft little hums from the back of Will’s throat as he wriggled in place, sorting blocks into colour groups and size ranges. 

He finally got to the bag of misplaced kitchen toys, and let out a grumbling noise of consideration, looking between his organized piles, and the bag of kitchen toys, and finally got up to crawl over to the kitchen set. 

It was montessori style, lots of textures and connections to make. It did various things. The sink worked, if a rudimentary system. It had a tank for clean water, and another for dirty. It was the same sort of system you might find in a modern tiny house. 

The little oven in the set, nicely made in wood and a plexiglass covering to see inside, had a small magnetic sensor inside that could only be triggered by one of the trays being set inside, which would turn on a small lightbulb and start a timer of two minutes, which would ding after. The wooden fridge had a typical light sensor that turned on when opened, and off when closed. There were utensils and tools to play with. 

Will ignored just about all of them, setting the bag of food toys on the counter, and sitting back on his heels so he could open it up and start pulling finely made and painted items. It didn’t miss Hannibal’s notice that the little boy wasn’t much interested in cleaning up after himself. That was okay, considering Will was a tidy person most of the time, cleanup can wait for big Will, if that’s what he needed. 

The little didn’t so much as play with the kitchen set, as organize it. He was putting food items in places he considered to fit them, and moving things as he found new little textures or reactions that would come from rearranging things. 

Just as Hannibal had thought, Will was a very tactile and sensory seeking young toddler. That is, if Will didn’t happen to get even younger than this, which could possibly be, but still. 

Will’s need to organize seemed too disappear as he ran out of toys to put in their places, and his eyes lit up on Hannibal, still sitting at the table, sketching out various poses of the little one in his headspace, and grabbed something before crawling over to sit next to him on the plush carpet. He looked up at Hannibal with big eyes, looking right into Hannibal’s while in his tiny headspace, a sign of trust that made Hannibal want to tear him apart in the best of ways. His dear baby fawn. 

Will had a hand curled up against his chest, holding one of the soft baby blocks that had facilitated the dip into headspace in the beginning. The one he was holding had a recorder that played a heartbeat noise for a full minute when squeezed. The blocks were all montessori based as well, different patterns and all with their own special noises and textures when squeezed. They were perfectly sized to adult hands. 

Hannibal was actually a big fan of montessori in general. Alana had gotten him into it when he first started building his own littles corner for his office, and he found it was a form of psychology of its own, seeing what toys the little ones want, what ones they dislike. There were many ways to profile a little. 

“Do you like the blocks?”

It was blatant fishing for information. Hannibal was already planning out a playroom for Will in his own home, but he couldn’t tell the little one that yet. Not so early in all this. 

Will seemed to consider it for a minute, before scooting closer to Hannibal, till the man was forced to make room for him under his arm. 

Patience. Hannibal had patience in spades. He couldn’t just kidnap the cuddle bug. Will would be sad without his puppies, so he had to play this slow. 

Will have a comfortable little snuffle and sighed. “Fits in my hand. Wish I had something to hug, but this is better than nothing.”

Hannibal made a curious noise. “And you couldn’t hold the bunny?”

Will have him a funny look, like he thought Hannibal was being dense. “It has too many impressions in it. I can’t be someone else while I’m little, I have to be me, so I can’t hug that. It’s got too many other people and strong emotions in it.”

Hannibal could hit himself. Of course the baby empath would have trouble with a stuffie that’s been hugged through so many emotions. Hannibal had actually thought he was being careful and controlled by not giving him the stuffed puppy he’d gotten Will already. 

He would be sure to have the puppy ready for next time, of course. 

Hannibal nodded sagely. “I will be sure to remember that, my little fawn. What did you think of the other toys?”

Will thought about that for a moment. “You do lots of sensory toys. I like it. I like my theme sets but they’re… not as fancy as yours.”

Hannibal nodded. “Of course, I had mine commissioned by a nice artisan who was getting into the littles and children woodworking industry. It was well planned out on both our parts. It’s even sized to be accurate to adults on their knees, instead of children at full height.”

Will gave a nod of his own, taking that without noting the deflection away from the price of the set, and towards the artistry put into it instead. He pulled out his phone, and opened up the photos, going to a folder. “I have these playsets at home. One of them is for fishing, and the other is a vet office.”

Hannibal took the phone with genuine interest. The fishing set was intricate, likely as expensive of a set you could get before they stop being made of plastic. There was a basin along the wall, and Hannibal could see colourful fish sitting at the bottom of it, many different types. The fly making area was even more intricate. 

But Hannibal wanted to hear that part in Will’s own words. “Do you make the flys for catching the fishies yourself? Like when you’re big?”

Will nodded excitedly. “Yeah! The different fly tying parts are made of different stuff, and you have to tie them with the right parts to catch the fishies you want! Magnets with magnets, velcro to Velcro, stuff like that. It’s really fun.”

A very tactile baby, and a very mindful one as well. Will needed lots of different things to keep him occupied. In Hannibal’s mind, Will’s nursery and playroom were becoming more detailed. He had a lot of commissions to make for the future. 

Will swiped to another folder, this one showing Will’s veterinary playset, with a very patient dog sitting in front of him, wrapped in cotton bandages while Will looked in his ear with a toy scope. Will smiled, a little giggle slipping out. “This is Winston, he’s my newest puppy! He was probably owned by bad people before, but he’s so gentle and I love him so much. He just wants to be with me all the time. He’s my newest patient.”

Hannibal smiled, scritching his nails through the baby curls at the base of Will’s neck where the man was sitting under his arm, snuggling into his side. “And, what would Winston’s prognosis be?”

Will gave him those big brown eyes, and Hannibal’s soul was melting. Reshaping. It was a terrifying thought. “Absolute cuteness. It’s terminal, I’m afraid.”

Hannibal couldn’t agree more. 

Chapter Text

Will considered his job and life to be fairly nice. 

His students could be bothersome at times, but at the level of adulthood they usually came to him at, their papers were better off than, say, preschoolers. Not much better, but that’s a sentiment all teachers seemed to commiserate on. At the level he was teaching at, the job he found himself in, some people didn’t seem to understand the disconnect he showed between teaching a lecture, and taking care of others. 

He wasn’t here to hold their hands. He’s not here to bend rules to accept late work and make sure they graduate. If they fail here, it’s not meant to be for them to work in the FBI. If they can’t handle the work of his single class, they won’t handle the job that comes at the end of this schooling. They might fail his class but have high marks in others, something that could simply change their schooling focus, instead of ruin it. It wasn’t his job to figure it out for them. They had counselors and advocates for that. 

His job, wasn’t a caregiving position. In fact, caregivers often failed at higher education positions that they weren’t supposed to handhold the students on. They rather succeeded in K-12 positions, counseling positions, therapists and medical professionals, but even still, it seemed to shock a lot of his students when they realized he was a little, a lower age little at that, but a little as a teacher. 

Which is why he was sitting at the desk in his classroom, a stand in for his lack of office, since no one could ever get him to use the damn thing when they had originally given it to him, and looking at the newer students who gaped at him in shock, as he confirmed his designation from the ‘rumors’ they had heard from other students. 

He was rather rude in his reply to them, but he felt some people deserved that sort of thing. “‘Rumor’, as you say, would imply that I wouldn’t willingly give up the fact that it’s truth. Now what shocks you more, that I’m a little not in a house being babied twenty-four seven, or that you have to defer to a sub as the one in charge of your grade?”

The boy, a mild sadist that wasn’t squeamish around the less savory pictures, but smiled kindly at the young cafe worker on the edge of campus, had the good grace to look sheepish, and Will realized it was probably more the first than the second. The girl, on the other hand, a caregiver herself, was the one who looked like she was actually going to say something, like she was stubborn enough to. Will held up a hand, a reproachful frown on his face. 

“I want you both to think very carefully about any answer you could have had, and which one you still have. In fact, I want you to think so carefully about this, you turn in a five page essay by Friday.”

The boy just continued to look chastised while his friend frowned more. “It’s Tuesday.”

He shrugged. “You’ll have to think fast, I guess.”

“This seems like an abuse of authority, not something we should actually be required to do.”

“Actually,” the three turned to look at the opening to the room, where Alana was walking in, a frown on her face, as expected of the resident littlespace psychologist, “it would do you both good to think on exactly what Mr Graham just said. What neither of you seem to realize, is that not only is he your teacher and not beholden to your scrutiny, but a superior who’s respect you should be giving, no matter his designation. Neither of you seem to realize that his designation doesn’t actually matter, there will always be someone above you in this field, and a lot of them will be subs and, yes, even littles. They owe you nothing, and you aren’t in a position to change that.”

The girl blanched, and Will was almost amused at her quiet reply that she’d get started on that paper right away, before turning heel and leaving. The boy frowned at her back, before turning back with a grimace. “I’m sorry. For me, since you can’t make apologies for someone else. When I heard you were a little, I was actually sort of excited. We grew up in small towns Midwest, and neither of us have ever really seen littles as teachers. I thought it was interesting. I would have stopped her if I realized she thought it was… insulting? I don’t know what she thinks. She only had a chance of leaving her hometown because of designation to begin with, I think it’s made her bitter in a way caregivers shouldn’t be. I’m sorry for the intrusion, I’ll have that paper on your desk by Friday.”

Will gave the man a polite nod of acknowledgment, giving a little shake of his head after he left and turned to look at Alana, who propped herself up against his desk with a curious look on her face. “I think the new kids from rural areas should have better introduction classes before they make blunders like that again.”

Will frowned. “Aren’t they supposed to do those in the spring?”

“Yeah. Seems a half a year too late if some of them are cocky enough to pick fights. Should we tell Jack the recruitments for small towns are probably down because only Doms are being sent out for training? No, I’ll tell him at our next meeting. He loves yelling at his bosses about that sort of thing.”

“He does… you know, I could have handled that.”

Alana nodded, a little snort coming out. “And I know I might have saved her from declaring all out war on you for your overly sharp tongue. Stubborn knows stubborn, she would have doubled down and spread rumors you were too emotional for the position.”

“Yeah. Not wrong there. What has you down here?”

Alana came back to herself with a little grin. “Hannibal and I need to conduct an evaluation of a patient. This requires multiple levels and at least two sign offs for court records. One of the tests we decided on involves a group setting for the patient. A little.”

Will considered that for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. “So that would be… are they violent?”

“…yes. Outside of headspace for sure, but inside headspace we need to evaluate if he can be trusted around others, or if he’s actually too dangerous to leave in the public.”

It was a relatively new practice. Meds to keep you in headspace have been around for centuries, but their use actually being sanctioned by courts for the safety of both the sub and others around them, were a rocky road from the start, and it could have been politely called abuse less than fifty years ago, but it was slowly becoming regulated in very small doses, and with very heavy conditions.

“Alright. So you guys will need subs, I’m assuming littles if you and Hannibal are both in on it?”

“Yes. Hannibal actually suggested you as a control subject for a few different groups. He said you would have the stability to handle them, and understanding of their mind to help direct our conclusion, understand why he might have a bad reaction and if he merely needs to be further limited to avoid triggers. You would be part of the group, if you could be, but if you must, we can put you in a sideroom as an empathic watcher.”

Will considered it for a moment, before shaking his head. “Things are often clearer and less overwhelming when I’m little. I actually prefer using my abilities in headspace when given the option.”

Alana gave a wistful little sigh. The one that meant she desperately wished she could pick his brain a little. He grinned cheekily, knowing he’d likely never let it happen. She just gave him a pat on the head with a little playful glare. “It’s a good thing I know you’re such a good boy either way. Alright, tomorrow at 10, will you be able to get your class covered?”

Will glanced at his schedule. “Ahh, yeah I should be able to handle that.”

***

Will got there for the playgroup with a somewhat bad attitude, pacing outside the observation room for a moment before deciding to bite the bullet and head in. 

He still would rather do this in headspace, but he’s been uncomfortable in his own skin all day. Which meant it was harder to get himself little. Which meant he needed to be little if he’s going to do this without overwhelming himself. 

He paused in the doorway, nearly baring his teeth to hiss at Doctor Chilton. He frowned, looking at Alana, who’d been setting out documents for the other psychiatrists, and she looked up at him with her own frown. “Oh, are you not feeling little? We still have empty observation rooms available connected-“

Will shook his head, holding up a hand. “I’ll take care of it in a minute. Why is Chilton here? Was Hannibal not able to make it?”

Alana smiled. “Oh, that. I’m afraid that though he is my patient, Mason Verger is also my ward by the state. So I had to get Hannibal and one other. It would be inappropriate, otherwise.”

Will nodded. “Right. Aren’t you also dating his sister?”

Alana’s cheeks went pink. “We’ve admitted that it would be appropriate to try, after the legal issues are out of the way. Again, why I am getting outside opinions as we go.”

Will couldn’t help his snicker. He’s never understood the dating thing. It just wasn’t the same for littles, for the most part. First you figured out if you wanted a mommy, a daddy, a mommy and a daddy, two daddies, two mommies, three- so on and so forth. It was harder for some people, and some chose not to decide till after, because their preferences were so low. Will would be fine with a mommy or a daddy, but he’s not sure about multiple partners, much less a sibling little. He’d probably manage to end up too wrapped up in just one of them, or just not fitting in. He was open to a lot of things, he just probably wouldn’t do any good for multiple partners if he had them.

But adult dating was so weird. There were a few littles who did it, but that sort of thing wasn’t important to little Will, and making little Will comfy in life was the goal. He’s the part that needs the cuddles and forehead kisses. 

“Where is Hannibal?”

Chilton answered, which almost made Will kitty hiss at him. He got way too pokey with his own fascination with Will’s mind, and it sort of annoyed him. But one time when Will was tiny and fussing, he got Will’s paci and a teddy bear for him, so Will only resisted because he knew Chilton had a secret soft spot and wasn’t always a sadist, and people would think that was funny if he told them Chilton got uncomfortable around crying babies. “He stepped out for a phone call with a client. He should be back any moment.”

Will nodded. “I’ll wait for him. I just want to speak with him before I drop.”

That was actually sort of a lie, which is why he’s glad he’s still big, because lying wasn’t good for little boys, but he had his reasons. He was sort of hoping Hannibal could help him drop. Hannibal had relaxed him down faster than Will ever did himself, and Will was hoping he could steal a bit of empathy from Hannibal to truly get into small space before the testing started. Maybe he could convince Hannibal to talk him through a drop and sort of steal his good littlespace expectations to help him become tiny, without it turning into a subdrop. 

Alana gave him a long look, but slowly nodded. “Alright. If you need any help or change your mind, I planned for a lot of alternatives.”

Which probably meant Jack was lingering somewhere in this side of the building today, ready to dive in with Will’s cuddle blankie and favorite toy he kept at their house. Rude. Jack can go baby some other agent today. There were loads of agents that needed kiddie gloves that he could baby when they had their daily meltdowns. Jack really drove his agents hard, but he babied them too, when they needed it. High reward for high expectations. That’s what Bev always called it, anyways. 

He’s pretty sure she’d been talking about orgasm denial, but that’s gross and Will didn’t like being chafed, so he found the phrase could apply to other things. 

He headed out the door again, and looked around for a moment, before following a haze he recognized as Hannibal down the hallway. It was more recent. He let out a little, ‘hmph!’ in his throat when he bumped into someone turning the corner, before smiling when he saw it was the man he’d been looking for. “Oh! Hannibal, I was just looking for you.”

The man looked shocked for a split second, and Will wondered if it was the bump or Will’s smile for once. He gave back a smile of his own, soft. Caregivers. How pathetic. 

“What can I help you with, dear Will?”

Will was pleased to note that the tone made him want to bunt up into the man like a cat looking for head scratches, which is good because that’s an affection response and it’s closer to littlespace than big him ever got. He still wasn’t there, though. His cheeks turned pink as he looked away. “I was hoping you could help me… help me drop?”

Hannibal’s soft caregiver expression turned liquid and doting in that moment, and Will wanted to whine and curl up in the man’s lap. Empathy always made him so much more to people like Hannibal, who so obviously wore their heart on their sleeve, and the darker emotions deeper in so the dark didn’t touch the littles and pets they kept. Will wondered what Hannibal’s darkness looked like when he was big, but tiny him knew for sure that it didn’t matter. Hannibal’s darkness wasn’t for babies. 

“I can help you, young one. Why don’t we find an empty room to help you drop in? Do you have everything you need for small minds?”

Will nodded, gesturing to the cross body bag he had at his side, before awkwardly taking it off to hand it over. “It’s got what little me needs if I’m small for more than an hour. I’ll probably be little a while after the tests.”

Hannibal nodded, taking the bag carefully. Will was so easy to manipulate into comfort when he was closer to headspace. Too curious for his own good when big, too many questions. 

Will was a little nervous. He didn’t typically trust anyone about this but his daddy, his real southern daddy, and Jack and Bella. The list of people he trusted were low. Beau was more trusted than the others, considering the strong influence he had on Will’s childhood, always careful but firm in that way that made Will want to melt. Hannibal was a little like that. Firm. Careful. 

Beau hadn’t been soft by any means, he just knew Will had a lot of issues, and tended to treat him like a sub with heavy triggers from a young age. Which meant that far too many caregivers and doms getting close to Will, had the disservice of being compared to Will’s actual father, and even worse when he told them he wasn’t going to stop calling Beau daddy. It was just a southern difference. 

A lot of littles in the French quarter tended to call parents daddy, and caregivers papa. A lot of northern migrators took offense. In the north, parents are typically mama and papa if a little starts presenting. That mommy and daddy were the standard for a caregiver. Which is why Beau was more trusted. Because he’s had to deal with northern caregivers taking offense at Will’s life as of being little itself isn’t supposed to feel natural and good if he’s going against what they deem typical. 

Hannibal was a psychiatrist. He had that same firm but caring presence that Beau had, and Will was comparing him to Daddy again. Admittedly, Daddy didn’t help him drop, he was just there to help when Will was too little to know what was good for himself. He was a parent, and Will was just as messed up as n adult as he was a child, of course Beau knew how to handle him. It was a particularly traditional line of living, with an untraditional reason for it. 

Hannibal had seemed to get it right the last time Will was little around him. Maybe it was just cultural differences between Will and northern caregivers, but Hannibal didn’t have those differences. Littles in Lithuania called caregivers mama and papa. They didn’t need mommy and daddy, that wasn’t close enough to the language. 

So. The fact that he handed over his little bag, something that he tried so hard to make sure it looked just like big Will’s bag, not to hide so much as blend in, and he’d handed it over without hesitation, suddenly had Will shifting from foot to foot for a second, feeling a fluttering in his chest. Maybe he was overstepping. Even Jack didn’t get him down, he just took care of him when he got there himself or on accident. Frankly, after he hit adulthood and left home for the academy, he didn’t have anyone to give both that firm care and regular schedule that Daddy used to make him follow when they could. 

It was unfair to compare caregivers to parents. 

He slid two fingers into Hannibal’s hand, making the man smile a little at him, enough for Will to be comfortable tugging the hand so Hannibal would follow. “I know an empty classroom over here.”

He tugs Hannibal into a small classroom, more of a study room that’s been converted for a specialized class that isn’t even in session this semester. He twitched a little as he took his hand back from that warm palm, feeling oddly tingly along the forearm. Sometimes emotions could feel . Hannibal always had particularly vivid and sensational emotions. It was interesting. Will was sure there was a study out there on past trauma making certain emotions, which would explain the switch from ER doctor to therapist, but there just weren’t enough empaths in scientific fields to help conduct that study. 

Hannibal continued giving him that soft look, and Will blushed, glancing away. Hannibal’s eyes were less scary than most, but no less captivating, and it was terrifying at times. 

“Why don’t you come take a seat, little one?”

Will came over to the chair Hannibal had pulled out for him, and instead of doing some magic trick -what Will had assumed he’d do, he wasn’t quite sure- he came down to a knee in front of him, setting the baby bag down so he could open it up and look inside. 

Right. Hannibal had only seen him in littlespace once, and probably didn’t trust Will to be so completely honest as to accurately tell his headspace age. 

Beau always said Will was a young toddler, and Will trusted his daddy. It’s why Beau stopped coming home smelling of liquor after ten solid years of being a particularly functional alcoholic when Will was little. It had never been a bad thing, Beau just stopped spending time at the bar after docking his boat, started bringing him out on the water with him so he could keep a better eye on his kid. 

It had only affected his work in that he had another set of hands and eyes on the boat, most days coming back with a bigger catch when Will was big enough to work with him, but it had tore at a few other fishermen in the area. Something about littles not being safe around water, that fishermen shouldn’t be good company around a little. 

Which was dumb. Will had called one of them dumb and hadn’t gotten more than a scolding about how little ones in headspace shouldn’t use those words. That he could use much worse when he was big later. 

Hannibal looked at the contents of the bag and gave a little smile. “Do you have a pull up on, darling boy?”

Will was blushing so hard. It was a soft voice that made him feel tiny. He nodded. “Yeah. I usually wear them instead of underwear anyways. It’s better to have protection than an accident in public.”

Hannibal didn’t look as pleased at that, but Will assumed it was more of his displeasure of big Will taking care of little Will that they had talked about before. It was nice of him to care about that. “That’s good. The general testing might take around thirty minutes to an hour. We want to see how Mason interacts with others. How long do you think you’ll end up dropping for, when I bring you down?”

Will bit his lip, already feeling fuzzy. Their positions reminded him of being tiny and having mama or daddy kneel down to help him into his clothes, tying his shoes for him. It felt… like he was bigger, when kneeling. “Maybe till tomorrow? My neighbors know I might stay with Jack overnight and she’s going to take the dogs out and feed them.”

Hannibal nodded. “Do you want to go with Jack? I could also take you home, my home or yours.”

Will considered it. “I’m not… I wanna play with Winston but…”

Hannibal considered that. “I could bring you home and keep an eye on you overnight.”

Will wants that. “I don’t want to put you out.”

Hannibal smiled. “Nonsense. We can stop by my home to get an overnight bag and make a nice early dinner before we get you home to your pack. You only mentioned Winston, do you not want to play with the others too?”

Will smiled a little. “Buster is old and likes to sleep in my playroom while I’m small, but Winston is really clingy. He plays with me because he doesn’t want me out of his sight. The others play with each other and come and go. Sometimes Jackson wants to wrestle, but he’s really small and I don’t want to hurt him.”

That, Hannibal noted, seemed to relax the little one quite a bit. He reached into the baby bag and pulled out a small box. It had a pacifier inside, looking shiny and clean with a shirt clip. “Do you want to use this? It might help keep you small while we do testing.”

Will was so so red. Okay, yeah, maybe Hannibal’s current method of little-dropping him was very mean, but he had to admit being reminded in all the ways he was just a toddler, was sort of working. Will nodded, but before he could take the little box from him to open, Hannibal was already doing so, deftly pulling out the little clip, a nylon strap with puppies on it, slipping the end past Will’s collar but not to it, before popping the silicone teat into Will’s stunned mouth. Will whined a little, curling away from him shyly while he sucked. Hannibal didn’t quite coo, mostly because the noise was more of a clicking chirp that was probably to do with his home country’s varying language; and from what Hannibal had implied about it, too long spent in a forest with only his adopted sister and aunt.

It still made him feel small. Hannibal pulled forward his own satchel, because it couldn’t really be called a bag. “I know you’re probably used to wearing whatever you were in when you dropped, but I wondered if you might find it more comfortable for softer clothes. Your work clothes are a bit rougher than I’d put a toddler in.”

Will considered that for a moment, head cocking to the side. “Got me… got me soft clothes?”

Hannibal nodded. “Alana and I agreed that keeping you comfortable would be best for testing. Neither of us want you coming out of littlespace because of Mason. You’ve been warned that he’s not particularly nice, yes?”

Will nodded. “Not nice, but unsure if he’s dangerous. It’s why Alana said she’s mostly getting agents. So none of us are likely to get hurt, even when tiny.”

Hannibal hummed, sounding pleased. “Very correct. You have a sippy cup in here, do you want a nice drink before we start?”

Will nodded. “Can I have milky coffee?”

Hannibal held back a wince. He’d gotten here early with a couple of juices to hand out to thirsty littles as needed, his personal offense at store bought probably a little too obvious to Alana and Frederick, who had given him far too amused looks. But even he would have accepted store bought juice in place of the coffee you could find in any government or martial building all over this country. 

He nodded, realizing he was about to look like a bit of a snob. He left the room for a bit while Will changed, only for Will to need help near the end when he was a little trapped in the pima cotton tee shirt. When Hannibal helped him into it, he could see a much smaller little boy than before. He gave Will a look that turned him soft and a little clingy, and clipped the paci strap to the new shirt, deciding not to mention it was probably more expensive than anything else Will had on his person, Will holding onto Hannibal’s hand as he was led back to the room Alana and Frederick were in. 

Frederick looked suitably cowed when Will sat on a chair across from him, curling up into it as Hannibal moved to stand with Alana in front of two electric kettles. She gave him a little giggle when he pulled a French press out of his bag with a small travel pouch of coffee. “I sort of thought you’d hate the coffee from a government building.”

It wasn’t like she could read his mind, she’s just heard that complaint before. He gave a little sigh as he started to prep the press. “It’s not poison, I simply have taste buds. Will wanted coffee…” he trialed off, looking to her while his hands kept working. “Is he allowed coffee while small?”

She nodded. “Jack tends to get him milk coffee when he’s small. He usually drops when especially tired, so milky coffee and a nap will perk him up enough not to throw a tantrum by the end of the day.”

Will smelled it in the air before he realized Hannibal was making the fancy coffee, so he turned away from the worried Doctor Chilton, tumbling from his seat so he could squish up against Hannibal’s side while the man poured a vanilla cream mixture into the sippy cup. Hannibal let him into his space and side with a smile, so Will knew he found Will cute. Good. It was Will’s biggest defense sometimes, that he was tiny and cute. 

It was still a bit warm, so Hannibal suffered the indignity of allowing Alana to put in two small ice cubes, before appeasing him by letting him make the adults in the room a mug of the rest, much less diluted by milk as little boys wanted. 

Alana’s phone pinged and she smiled. “Jack’s going to bring by the rest of the little ones you’ll work with today, and Margot should be around with Mason soon after. Do you want to come see the playroom?”

Will nodded, a little cautiously. Even as a little, he wasn’t a huge people person, but it wasn’t a real playdate. Just a test. He could do that.