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For All That I Could See, I Could Not See You

Chapter Text

Will let out a heavy and shaking breath as he was lead back down the halls of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. It had been a long time since he'd been here. Not since his encounter with the Tooth Fairy. He'd never had any intention of coming back, had never even entertained the thought. He had simply wished to return to his normal life with Will and Molly once the whole ordeal had been settled. But Will Graham began to realize that in his life, no ordeal was ever settled.

That was why when he had received a letter from the FBI that had been forwarded from Dr. Hannibal Lecter, he had flown out to Baltimore on the Red Eye. He knew that Lecter was none of his concern now, that he should have long since buried the hatchet, but once more, this ordeal was not settled, nor did Will ever think it would be. A part of him wished that he had ignored the letter, like he did all the Christmas cards Hannibal sent him every year, but this time, he couldn't.

The letter had been brief, simply instructing him to come to the hospital and not to worry, he had already informed Dr. Chilton that he would be arriving. Upon the thought of that man, Will couldn't help but to grimace and even now as he was walking into the man's office, it didn't fall from his face.

Upon seeing him, Chilton's eyes seemed to come to life, and a fake smile slid across his face. "Mr. Graham! So good to see you again!"

Will smiled tightly, but did not politely offer his hand. He felt if he touched the man, he would simply slide right off of him. This man was but a shell of a psychiatrist, collecting the criminally insane like trophies that he could spit on and shine up for those who wished to view them. Will would know. He was once one of them.

"Likewise, Dr. Chilton." Will responded.

"I must admit, Mr. Graham, had Hannibal not informed me that you would be arriving, I would have hardly recognized you."

Will remained tight lipped at that comment. It was extremely rare that anyone would mention his facial scarring, simply out of the fact that they wished to be polite by ignoring, but apparently, not Chilton. Will straightened his tie, turning to face the door.

"If you wouldn't mind, Doctor, I would really rather we get this over with."

"Of course! Of course!" Chilton said, scurrying past him and moving to walk him down those familiar steps.

With each movement, shadows of the past would fill Will's subconscious, moving him through his visits with Lecter from the Tooth Fairy case to his own stay here, when he had been framed for Hannibal's murders.

"I would let you go down yourself, since you know the way," Chilton laughed, "But alas, protocols."

"I understand." Will said blandly.

"Interestingly enough, your not the only FBI agent who has been visiting Lecter lately.:

"Ex FBI agent." Will corrected.

Chilton ignored him and continued, "A young Ms. Clarice Starling. Though I must admit, she's too pretty to be an agent. Here to consult with Hannibal about the Buffalo Bill case."

Chilton continued talking, not seeming to notice nor care that Will wasn't listening. By the time they had reached the bottom step, Will had already moved past Chilton and the orderly, Barney, was opening up the gate for him. He was about to speak, but Will simply turned to look at him and said,

"I know the protocol."

With that, he stepped through, walking down the middle of the hallway. The place was filthy, obviously not well kept, though that wasn't surprising when he thought about the fact that Chilton ran this place. It reeked of urine and Will was forcing himself to hold his breath and only breathe when entirely necessary. He walked slowly, ignoring the comments made from the other inmates in the hall. He remembered them all, especially the extremely crude Miggs. As he approached the last cell on the left, his speed fell and he walked slower, wanting to drag out the moment before he arrived, but it was only two more steps away. When he peered into the cell, Hannibal was lying on his cot, staring up at the ceiling.

"Hello, Will. I trust Dr. Chilton was polite when you came in," were the first words Hannibal spoke to him.

"As polite as Dr. Chilton can be," he responded.

He chuckled, "He does have that way about him, doesn't he, Will?"

Will simply nodded and grabbed the chair that was leaning against the wall, positioning it so that he was facing Hannibal's cell. He didn't say anything as he watched Hannibal rise up from the cot, stretching his body. For a man who had not been in the outside world for so long, it was odd to see him so fit and still looking like he did in the days when he was Will's psychiatrist. Hannibal turned to face Will, and he smiled softly.

"I was hoping you wouldn't be too ugly."

Will scoffed slightly. "It was no thanks to you."

"I did not dictate Dolarhyde's actions."

"No, you simply coerced them."

"Let us not speak of the past, dear Will. Let's focus now on the present."

"And what is it exactly that you wish for us to focus on, Dr. Lecter? Please enlighten me," he said, his agitation leaking through.

"Don't be rude, Will," Hannibal warned, "You are aware of how much I dislike that."

Will let out a heavy sigh and he ran a hand over his face. He felt his hand begin to shake. He ignored it, closing his eyes as he tried to focus again. His breathing became heavier. He was losing himself. This hadn't happened to him since before he had been incarcerated.

"It's 7:19 PM," Hannibal started, using the old technique to ground him. "You are in Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane and your name is Will Graham."

"I know who I am!" Will shouted suddenly, standing up. "I've known who I am all along. It was you who made me believe that I was something I wasn't. You who made me believe that I killed all those people...That I was capable of killing them, of killing Abigail..."

"Ah, yes, Abigail," Hannibal said, ignoring most of Will's rant. "I've sent her letters, but she never responds to them. How is she, Will?"

"Tell me why I'm here, Dr. Lecter." Will spoke, "Or I will turn around and leave here and you will never see me here again."

"You may leave here if you please, William. However, it would be wise of you to never be the fool. I will see you again."

Will stood tall, straightening out his suit as he locked eyes with Hannibal. He had been one of the only people he had ever been able to look straight in the eye. Even with Molly and Will it had been difficult. He had never been able to do it with Jack and only rarely with Alana.

"Goodbye, Dr. Lecter. I trust that we will not meet again."
Will turned to walk away and as he did, Hannibal spoke up, "Oh Will, I would like you to do a favour for me."
He paused momentarily, before turning back to face him, "And what would that be, Dr. Lecter?"
Hannibal smiled and Will could see all of his small white teeth and his maroon eyes flashed dangerously, "Do put some flowers on Freddie Lounds' grave for me? I truly was such an avid fan of her work."

With those final words, Will Graham stormed out of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

Chapter Text

There was something rather alarming about the idea of placing flowers on the grave of Freddie Lounds. A part of Will had wished that he wasn't even here. He could not deny the fact that he detested Lounds for all the tabloid articles that she had written about him, calling him insane and just as much of a killer as the people he hunted. When he had been arrested, the woman was overjoyed, and article after article came out about him, some with interviews from the influential Dr. Chilton who had analyzed and discovered the mind of a true sociopath in Will Graham. A blatant lie, but one that the public believed.

Will remembers when he confronted Hannibal after he had been released from prison and remembered the feeling of the linoleum knife sliding through his skin and remembers how Hannibal hushed him, ran a hand through his hair. He knew that Dr. Lecter did not prepare to be shot. He ran a hand over the scar under his shirt and let out a heavy sigh, before turning away from the grave and making his way back to his car. It had now been several weeks since he had visited Hannibal, but to Will it had only felt like a matter of moments.

There was a part of Will that could not deny the existence of Hannibal and how he had become a focal point in Will's life. Everything leads back to him. Even thoughts of his childhood, as he realized that he had shared them with the doctor during his therapy. He laughs when he calls it that now. Manipulation is not usually a part of the therapeutic process. Well, at least not in humane therapy.

Will had left his home in Florida sometime in the past few weeks seeing as it no longer felt like a home without Molly or William there. He regretted his inability to heal his relationship with his wife and son; however, he knew that it was through no fault of theirs that their family ended. If he hadn't taken the case, had not consulted with Hannibal or perhaps even had waited to return home, it wouldn't have happened. Perhaps if he hadn't drank so much.

Will shook the negative thoughts out of his head and he ran a hand through his hair. He left the cemetery and got into his car. His heart was pounding in his chest and he had an offset feeling and he blinked, taking in a heavy breath, before allowing his eyes to open once more.

“Good Will, I do not recall inviting you here.”

Will let out another breath that he did not realize he had been holding. He was sweating, hair stuck to his face and panting heavily, and he was certain that his appearance was crazed at best.

“How did I get here?” he whispered, running a hand over his face.

“Losing time again, dear Will?” Hannibal asked, pacing back and forth in his cage.

“Where are we?” Will asked. “It isn't Baltimore…”

“Of course not, dear Will. Don’t be obtuse. Does this look like my cell back in Baltimore? Does it look like yours?”

“Then where are we?”

“Oh, just a simple state prison in Tennessee. They requested information from me on the Buffalo Bill case and I requested a view. And they provided. It’s interesting, the things that people are willing to do for family, but then again…” Hannibal chuckled to himself.

“I don’t know how I got here…” Will swallowed nervously.

“Of course you don’t, Will. But I am assuming you drove if you believed yourself to be in Baltimore rather than Tennessee.”

“But why would I come here? To you, Dr. Lecter?” Will asked, making his tone sound condescending even though he truly wished to know.

“Perhaps you feel drawn to me, Will.” Hannibal said, drawing closer to the edge of the cage.

He scoffed and looked down at the ground, “I’m drawn away from you, Dr. Lecter. I have no wish to stay near you for longer than necessary.”

“Your previous visit was not of necessity. Nor was this one.”

“I did not plan this visit, Dr. Lecter.”

He leaned back from the cage with a frown upon his face. “You’re being awfully rude now. It’s a shame, really. Perhaps I should shift my focus onto Ms. Starling. She seems far more,” Hannibal chuckled, “agreeable.”

“Dr. Chilton told me that he believed her too pretty to be an FBI Agent.”

“You’re also too pretty, Will, but that never stopped you, did it? Well, too pretty and too unstable.”

Will coughed slightly, trying to ignore what he was sure was only a jeer. “I think it would be best if I left you, Dr. Lecter. Once more, I doubt we’ll be seeing much of each other.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that, Will, but please, believe what you wish.”

Will turned and left immediately following those words, not bothering with a formal farewell. His hands were shaking and he felt himself on the brink of a breakdown. His breathing pattern had become irregular and spots danced across his eyes. Steps unsteady. Still, he was somehow able to maneuver through the crowd and eventually he made his way out into the parking lot and surely enough, his car was there. He breathed heavily, pulling his car keys out of his pocket with trembling fingers, he was able to unlock the car and slide inside. He pressed his face against the steering wheel, closing his eyes.

“So you want to come back to the field then?”

Will opened his eyes and found himself sitting in Jack’s office in Quantico. The man was staring at him expectantly, awaiting an answer. Will ran a hand over his face, groaning slightly as he sunk down into the chair.

“Sorry, what was the question?” Will asked.

Jack let out a rough sigh, peering at Will between his parted fingers, the one vulture eye staring at him and Will felt himself becoming uncomfortable as it watched him closely, as if trying to take in all his movements with that one ever-watching eye. Will averted his gaze, licking over his cracking lips.

"I asked you if you were going to come back to the field?" Jack repeated.

Will looked at him, an amused expression crossing his face, before he began to laugh bitterly. "Do not be ridiculous, Jack. I thought I made it quite clear that I didn't want to come back to the field after..." he trailed off, gesturing to the scar along his face.

"You did make it rather clear, Special Agent Graham, until you came storming in here, demanding to be allowed in on the Buffalo Bill case, claiming that you knew that somehow Lecter was more invested in it than he should have been."

Will paused his laughter as he listened to Jack. He could not remember even arriving here. He ran a hand over his head and he looked up at the man. He looked much older than he had before, the wrinkles spreading across his face and his eyes looked tired and empty and as he stared at his old boss, realization dawned on Will.

"Bella...she...she died, didn't she?"

He saw that Jack flinched when he spoke and he thought that maybe he should have worded the question differently, but it was too late to take that back now, as he watched the man's face fall further than it ever had before in Will's entire career.

"Yes, Will. Bella has passed on."

"I'm so sorry, Jack. I know how much she meant to you."

Jack simply nodded his head. His Bella was gone, faster than he could possibly know and it frightened him that this could all fall apart so easily. Surrounded in a world by death and yet he thought, for some reason, that she would be able to somehow last forever.

"I hate to disappoint you, Will, but the Buffalo Bill case is officially closed."

"What?" Will asked. He had just been talking to Dr. Lecter, it could not be possible.

"Clarice Starling caught the bastard, a man called Jame Gumb, and saved the Senator's daughter. It was spectacular. I haven't seen such work since you were in the field."

"Or since Miriam Lass." Will reminded him. "I will not allow myself to be another failure, Jack. Not again. I carry enough memories of my time in the FBI."

Jack pressed his lips tightly together and he turned away from Will, letting out a heavy breath. "It may be important for you to know that Dr. Lecter has escaped from prison in a rather brutal attack on the guards. The last known contact we received from him was in a letter to Ms. Starling. Are you telling me you don't want to come back now?"

Chapter Text

Will sat in his car, heart pounding inside of his chest as he pressed his hand against his mouth, as if trying to hold in all the thoughts that were threatening to tumble out of his throat. Mist gathered over the car and condensation pooled down into tiny drips that slid down from the top of the window until it vanished from Will's sight. He licked his lips, hands trembling as he watched each drop vanish and he blinked his eyes several times, but the image kept repeating. A rapping on the window, and Will sees Jack's face.

"Come on, Special Agent Graham," the man says and Will can swear that he can see a hint of a smirk on his face, "don't have all day."

Will nodded his head and he slipped out of the car. His steps were unsteady, not calculated as he moved through the field. His heart his pounding and he wants to grip onto his hair and scream because he knows that he shouldn't be here again, yet he knew that he couldn't pull away.

He didn't realize that he wouldn't become so sensitive after awhile from not looking at the bodies, that it would be terrible. He sees the man resting across the ground and he looks into the stomach of the man, watches as his intestines have wrapped around his neck and choked the life out of him. Will closes his eyes. He doesn't need to be told what to do.

The pendulum swings.

He sees the man in front of him, composed in the darkness as if he belongs there. He rests his hands in front of the fire, warming them up. Rapist pig. Will licks over his lips, mouth watering. Has to be quick, clean. No time to hide any mistakes. Moves through the dark in quick patterns, dodging all the bushes and settling in the tree line behind him. The man looks around, but decides it's nothing. Will smirks, small white teeth flashing as he lunges forward, bringing the blade across the man's stomach. He covers the man's mouth with his hand and he muffles his screams as he reaches inside, pulling out his intestines in harsh grasps. He wraps them around his throat, strangling slowly, allowing him air, only to take it away. He grins widely as the man's last breath falls from his lips and he laughs, knowing that nobody could hear him now. It had been too long since he had this kind of fun. He harvests the organs. He won't be able to keep them for long. He needs to leave America as soon as possible, but this, this is his sustenance.

Will lets out a heavy breath, closing his eyes. "This is my design." he whispers.

Will knows that when he opens his eyes again, that he should be able to see Jack once more. He still sees the man in the fresh kill and he begins to panic. He didn't do this. He knows that he didn't do this. His breathing begins to falter and fall into irregular patterns and he grips his head in his hands, before he feels a hand wrap around his throat, pulling him securely back against another body, one that he knows to be drenched in blood. He feels a weight in his hands and he looks down, seeing the bloodied knife resting comfortably there. The hand doesn't hold tight, just simply rests and he feels hot breath down his neck and yet he relaxes, closing his eyes. Lips rest against his ear.

"My dear Will."

Will sits up straight, breathing heavily his dogs whined, crawling up into bed next to him. He swallowed nervously, patting the two animals heads and kissing their snouts. They curled up next to him and he allowed himself to relax slightly. He missed how full his house used to feel with all of the dogs, but during his time in prison many of them had passed away and the ones that didn't died when they moved out to Florida. Molly was never really a dog person anyway, so he was forced to accommodate. Now that she had left, along with Will, he had brought the strays into his home straight away. Living in Virginia again should have frightened him, but he had never felt more at home.

He stared up at the ceiling, lying in between his two dogs, Jem and Max. Hannibal is a constant and he was a fear that Will could never let go. He gripped onto his skull, digging his nails into the soft pale flesh. His dogs whined once more, Jem leaning up to lick his cheek and he smiled slightly, patting her. He closed his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep again, trying hard not to focus on lost time or on Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

"Are you even listening to me, Graham?!"

Will ran a hand over his face and he kept his hand over his mouth as he looked up at the overbearing man. The agitation was written clear over his face and as he had when Will felt like a much younger man, he was beginning to take out his frustration on the other.

"I'm listening, Jack. I am."

"Then perhaps you're not understanding me correctly. Hannibal Lecter has escaped from the United States!"

"Did you really expect to catch him?" Will asked, almost mockingly. "He was able to escape from prison and he evaded us for years before he got caught. The only way he might have possibly stayed would be if he had known I..."

Will trailed off and pondered for a moment. Jack averted his gaze, pacing back and forth across the airport hall. "We have to figure out where he was going."

"You had me join the case so that it would lure Lecter out didn't you?' Will asked.

Jack pursed his lips, continuing to avoid looking at Will. "It was you or Agent Starling."

"Couldn't use both of us? Just one? Has this become a pattern of yours, Jack?"

"It's necessary, Will. You know him the best, spent the most time with him. It was the best option we had."

"Why not Agent Starling? From what I've heard, he seemed to be quite infatuated with her."

Jack turned to look at him, gaze sharp and piercing. "You seem to be forgetting that at one point, he was infatuated with you as well."

Will stood up quickly and he walked away with a mumble of, "I need a drink."

He'd been sober since arriving in Virginia, too distracted to even think, but now he was craving it more than ever. He walked into a bar in the centre of the city, sitting down and ordering a scotch on the rocks, swigging it back as soon as it landed in his hand. He ordered another, but as he went to throw it back, a soft hand stilled his own.

He looked next to him and he saw a young and rather beautiful woman sitting next to him, shoulder length auburn hair. She smiled softly at him, but not in a way that fully carried warmth. "Special Agent Graham?" she asked.

"Just Mr. Graham." Will laughed. "And who might you be?"

"Agent Clarice Starling."

"Ah, Jack's trainee."

She frowned at that. "Yes."

"Get out while you can. You'll just get screwed over by the time your my age."

"Jack warned me about you."

"About my personality? Or about my face?" Will said with a grimace.

"Both. As well as your budding alcoholism." she said, picking up the scotch and drinking it herself.

"What did he say about the..." he trailed off, gesturing to the scar across his face.

"That you looked like a 'damn Picasso'." Clarice said, not bothering to sugarcoat it.

"Always eloquent." Will said, pursing his lips. "Hannibal escaped from the United States."

"I know." she responded. "He sent me a letter. I'm assuming he'll go to Europe."

"It was always his true home." Will said, a hint of a smile on his face.

"You never stop thinking about him, do you? Even after all this time?"

"Bit hard when I look in the mirror and I'm reminded that he's the reason I have this."

Clarice moved her hand across the bar, resting it atop of Will's. "What frightens you, Mr. Graham?"

"Dr. Lecter." Will said easily.

Clarice couldn't help but to laugh and she retracted her hand. She stood up, slipping her jacket around her body. "You do not fear Dr. Lecter, Mr. Graham."

"And how would you know that, Ms. Starling?"

She laughed slightly. "Because I thought I did once too. We're intrigued by him, Mr. Graham, and with good reason. You're not the only one he left with a memento."

Clarice taps her cheek bone and Will can see what first appeared to look like a simply black smudge on her face, but was really the fragments of gunpowder that had ingrained itself into her cheek. He smiled slightly, running a light finger over his own scar. He stood up quickly, walking out of the bar.

By the time he made it home, it was well into the night. No stars could be seen, but Will hardly seemed to mind as he made his way through the front door of his house. He paused when he saw a package resting on the nightstand by his bed. He swallowed nervously and he walked over to the package, looking down at it, noticing that it had an address and delivery stamp on it. That made him feel slightly more relieved, knowing that it was not delivered here by whoever sent it by hand, but it did mean that someone he did not know had broken into his house. He approached the box carefully, slipping on a spare pair of gloves that he kept with him at all times. He opened the box slowly, watching as it unfolded almost magically, before a moth flew out, fluttering towards the light above. He watched it for a moment, before pulling out the car, written in that ever so beautiful handwriting Will knew so well.

Young Will,
Jack was right to bring you back. It did lure me in. Just not far enough. I will see you soon. Do enjoy your meal. Everybody needs a heart.
Sincerely Yours,
Hannibal Lecter

Will swallowed nervously as he reached into the box, pulling out and feeling the tender flesh of a bloodied heart in his hand. He felt the room spinning, his eyes going out of focus and in one single movement, he bit roughly into the flesh of the heart.

Chapter Text

Will awoke in a darkened hospital room, listening to the steady beat of the machines around the room. He felt his heart rate beginning to pick up and he began to pull out the intravenous tubes and he could hear the beat of the machine beginning to grow more erratic. A rush of nurses moved into the room like a crashing wave that pinned Will down, despite how much he struggled, and for a moment, he swore that he was drowning as they knocked him unconscious once more.

"Special Agent Graham." A groan releases from Will's lips.

"Special Agent Graham." A toss of his head.

"Will Graham."

Will's eyes snap open and he is staring into the face of young Miss Clarice Starling and one beaming Alana Bloom. He would have allowed a weak smile to pass across his features, however, there was something that was holding him back. He sat up slightly in the bed and Alana moved closer to him, resting a hand over his.

"How have you been, Will?" she asked with a soft smile.

"That's a rather odd question to ask given the ordeal he has been through." Miss Starling stated and a small blush formed on Alana's face. She quickly realized her mistake and she spoke quickly, "Though I understand why you asked. It has been a long time since you two have seen each other."

"How do you think I have been, Alana?" he asked, giving her his familiar gaze to show her that he didn't mean to be rude by what he said.

"Jack asked the two of us to come in and talk to you about what happened." Miss Starling said quickly, sitting down next to Alana, but making sure to keep a decent amount of distance between herself and Will.

"What happened? I hate to sound ridiculous, but I really cannot remember."

Alana and Clarice both turned to look at each other and Will watched the expressions of concern move across both of their lips. Alana released a heavy sigh before saying, "Dr. Lecter sent someone to your home with a human heart inside of a box. You opened it and you must have had an anxiety attack because you..." she trailed off.

"You bit into it, Special Agent Graham." Clarice finished.

Will paused momentarily and he began to tap his fingers insistently against his leg, as though not even bothered by the prospect, however, it slowly began to sink into him. Nausea rose up inside of him and Clarice acted quickly, handing him the bucket as he vomited profusely, his body shaking violently. Alana stroked his back in a comforting fashion, while he held a hand over his mouth.

"It's alright, Will." Alana said simply.

"How can you say that it is alright when I ate a man's heart?"

"You didn't, Special Agent Graham. After biting it, it fell out of your mouth as you fell into your fit," Clarice spoke calmly.

"I'll be back with something to clean you up," Alana said with a smile before walking out of the hospital room with the resonating click of her heels.

Clarice moved closer now, sitting down where Alana had and he leaned forward towards him. "I know that I come across as cold, Special Agent Graham, but I have to let you know that I do care about what's happening to you"

"Do you only care because you're worried that he's going to come after you?" Will asked.

"No. He told me that he wouldn't come after me. I have nothing to fear, but you're his first project and from what I have gathered from him, he never leaves a work unfinished."

Alana came back into the room at that moment and Clarice excused herself. Will spent the rest of the day being cared for by Alana and he had to admit that despite the fact that it felt extremely overwhelming, it was pleasant and he was sad that he had not kept up contact with her after the Red Dragon case.

Weeks moved through and Will could have sworn that it was just within the blink of an eye. Jack had not called him in on any cases, but he knew better than to believe that the man was doing it out of the kindness of his heart. No, it was because he wanted it to appear that Will was no longer under the influence of the FBI nor under there protection in the hopes of luring Hannibal out.

He could not deny the fact that he was rather happy about the rest he was receiving. Ever since arriving in Baltimore, it seemed that he had never gotten a moment of relaxation. Even now, as he sat in his own home, he felt anxious. Something seemed off and he felt the urge to run from it. He rested his face in the palms of his hands, closing his eyes and when he looked up the night had replaced the day. His dogs lay sleeping next to him and he groaned loudly, standing up and walking in a wobbly manner as he made his way into the bedroom, falling down onto the bed, content with falling asleep.

Will tossed and turned, despite how tired he was, he was unable to fall asleep. He let out a low growl of frustration as he sat up, running a rough hand through his curls, frustration growing as he felt his heavy eyelids remain open. He lay back down in his bed, staring up at his ceiling. He remembers, for a short while, that when he had been Hannibal's patient, he had been able to sleep, if only for a few moments. It was difficult now, to imagine his old life when he had believed himself and Hannibal to be friends. His frustration peaked and he squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a small groan of pleasure. He stopped, looking down to find his hand having trailed down his boxer shorts. His eyes opened wide in shock in his own actions, but he did not allow himself to stop.

He pictured the man who had haunted his dreams and nightmares, who had both made and ruined his life in the most horrific way possible and continued to be an ever-growing presence that he knew now he would never be rid of, despite how much alcohol he consumed in an attempt to make the memories temporarily vanish. Will's hand begins to move faster over his cock and a small whimper falls from his lips and he covers his mouth, trying to shut out the sounds falling from his mouth. Even in the privacy of his own home, he couldn't stand the idea of hearing his own sounds of pleasure when he was thinking about something as dark as Hannibal Lecter.

He wished that he had been able to deny his want and his desire, but as his pace began to quicken and his cries were no longer muffled by his hand, he allowed his eyes to close and bliss washed over him as he came hard, breathing heavily before he finally drifted off into a deep sleep, unaware of the front door that now remained open.

Chapter Text

Will awoke to a chill passing over the entirety of his body, his eyes flashing open as he observed the room with blurred eyes still affected by sleep. His dogs slept on either side of him and as he stood up he patted each of their heads to let them know that he was passing by so as not to startle them. He walked through the child room, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest as he did so. He walked into the front hall and he noticed the front door slightly ajar. He felt the impulse to reach for his gun, however he paused for a moment and shook his head. It was more likely that he had forgotten to lock the door when he had come home and that his dogs had simply nudged it open. He closed the door quickly and locked it behind him.
He looked down at his own appearance, a faint dusting of rose moving over his cheeks as he realized that the evidence of the night's events still remained over his body. He moved quickly from the front hall and into the bathroom, walking over to the shower tap and turning it onto the hottest setting. He ran his hand under the water until it was scalding before he stepped under the shower head. The warm water cascaded down his shoulders and he soon placed his head under the hot spray, allowing his hair to be soaked under the water and his dark curls fell flat against his face.

Will thought back to his carnal actions and desires towards Hannibal Lecter. A part of him recognized that he should have felt shame, but he had given up on that possibility a long time ago. He had carried these emotions for several years now, but ever since he had come to the recognition that he was indeed the Chesapeake Ripper, the feelings had been repressed. After all, it would be unorthodox to develop a sentimental attachment to the serial killer that that had framed him and had him incarcerated. He scolded himself for having resorted back to calling him Hannibal rather than Dr. Lecter. Referring to him by his professional name somehow made Will feel as though he did not have a previous relationship with the other man.

He could not deny that he still questioned if Dr. Lecter had developed feelings from him over the duration of their visits. Of course, if he had, Will would never have known. The man was a master of concealing his own emotions and thoughts and would never have revealed them to Will because he had another motive in mind for the man. His mind wandered and he forced himself to stop before his mind became carried away once more. He steps out of the shower, drying himself off before wrapping the towel around his waist tightly. He stepped out of the steam filled room, only to find the chill settling in the house once more. Will takes a deep breath and he makes his way inside of his room, grabbing his gun quickly, walking towards the front hall. The door was open once more. He clicked the safety off of the gun and turns around, moving through his house. Each step was quiet and determined and he moved quietly through the room until he reached his kitchen.

A shadow formed within the space, standing at the counter and Will kept his gun raised, though his hand trembled visibly. Nothing was said, but he saw the figure turn to look at him. Will reached a hand over to flick on the light, but the figure moved and he flinched, placing both his hands on the gun once more. He was frozen in place and he tried hard to breathe properly. Why had the dogs not barked? The thought flashed through his mind and instantly he lowered his gun.

"Dr. Lecter?" he asked, voice quiet.

"It's lovely to hear your voice again, William."

"I thought you had gone. You made every indication that you were going." Will almost babbled in his panic.

"There was a point to that, William, as I am sure you know."

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked. "Like you tried to do before?"

"I would not announce myself to you if I were going to. I would have simply done it while you slept. I have no desire to cause you harm, William."

Will moved closer to the man, if only slightly. It was not that the desired to be closer, but rather that the phone rested just between himself and Hannibal and if he could perhaps just dial Crawford's number, there could very well be a possibility for an arrest, However, Hannibal was not so idiotic to be unaware of Will's actions. He acted quickly, reaching out to grab Will's hand that held the gun, disarming him quickly and taking the gun into his own hand, before wrapping one arm around his waist while pointing the gun at Will's temple.

"That was not a wise course of action, William."

Will let out a heavy breath, but did not attempt to struggle. "How many times have you been here to convince the dogs that you were safe?"

"A dozen. They seem to enjoy my choice of meat."

Will felt a nausea rise up inside of him that he forced himself to swallow down. "If you're not here to kill me, then what are you here for?" he asked quietly.

"I am rather glad that you asked."

He could practically hear Hannibal's smile and when the man stepped away from him, he held himself completely still before feeling the blow to the back of his head. The dark room began to spin around him and he felt disoriented as he fell back, wondering if he would even feel the ground once he hit it. However, as Hannibal caught him, he couldn't help but to laugh slightly, despite the disorientation. Spots danced across his vision and very soon, the world fell entirely into darkness.

Chapter Text

An imbalance was what roused Will from his sleep as he eyes fluttered open, only to reveal a blurry scene in front of him. It was difficult for him to make out the figures around him, but they all seemed to be mumbling amongst themselves. Will's head rolled to the side and he felt his head hit something angular and he groaned loudly and he looked to his side, blinking his eyes rapidly before they finally focused and he was able to make out his surroundings. He was able to see the makings of a plane and he watched as the people around him stared back and mumbled. He let out a low groan and he reached his hand up to run over his face, but his hands remained in his lap. He looked down, the outline of his hands under a sweater, yet when he tried to pull them, they remained exactly where they were, pulling at his legs slightly. He began to panic slightly, struggling against the bonds that left him immobile in his seat and it was only when a hand came to rest on his shoulder that his body forced him to freeze.

"I suggest that you steady yourself, Will. People are beginning to take notice." A voice spoke quietly into his right ear.

Will turned his head quickly and his blue eyes met a sanguine gaze, one that he recalled too well. The panic that had been quelled by fear ignited once more as he attempted to break free of the binds that surrounded his wrists. The people began to turn towards him, offering him concerned expressions and the air stewardesses began to walk over. Hannibal acted quickly and gripped onto the back of Will's neck, hitting a pulse point that caused the other to go limp, his head rolling back against the seat.

"Is he alright?" a young stewardess asked as she gazed upon Will.

"I assure you he is. My partner sometimes suffers from episodes. I assure you that I'll keep him calm from now on," Hannibal said calmly, with a soft smile to reassure the woman that he was of no harm.

"Very well. Just call us if he needs anything." she smiled before walking back down the aisle.

Hannibal smiled at her before he turned back to look at Will, turning the other's head to look at him. "I suggest that you simply listen to me from now on, Will. I would not want you to end up hurt."

"How did you get me through the airport? You couldn't have done it while I was unconscious..." he said, voice faint and barely audible to the other man.

"Your sleepwalking serves its purpose quite well, and seems to love to aid me."

Will took in a deep breath, closing his eyes slightly. ''Jack Crawford once told me that despite the fact that you have an infatuation for Agent Starling, you once had one for me.''

Hannibal chuckled slightly."Oh Will, what I carry for you is much closer to an obsession.''

A shivered travelled through Will's body. "You've abducted me and taken me away from my home...my dogs." A horror suddenly travelled through him and he began to panic once more.

Hannibal let out a soft sigh and he moved quickly, knocking Will unconscious and ensuring that he had been unnoticed in his attempt. He smiled softly before resting back in his chair, allowing himself to gather some rest before Will would awaken once more.

The darkness did not leave Will's vision until much later in the evening. He did not awake to the airplane this time, but rather a warm and comforting fire. He was laying down on a sofa and he had been curled up under a blanket. He looked into the crackling flames, feeling the heat moving directly towards him and he let out a small mumble of exhaustion. The warmth was welcome and he crawled off of the couch in order to sit closer to the flames, holding his hands out so that he could warm up his cold fingertips. There was nobody else around him and he felt a bit of relief at that. He knew that there would be no chance of escape, but there was a strange comfort in being alone, if only for a moment.

He looked towards the windows and he frowned as he saw that the had been blackened, making it impossible for Will to tell where it was that Hannibal had brought them. It frightened him that he had been lead through the airport and through security without anyone stopping him or stopping Hannibal. It almost made him wonder whether or not anyone even knew if he was missing yet. He knew that he had not left any evidence of a struggle at his home, so they would not automatically assume that there had been a confrontation, but he hoped that they would realize that he was not one to abandon his dogs so easily. He walked over to the window, placing a hand against the glass, wanting to know what lied beyond the blackened glass. He heard the door open and his body tensed slightly.

"It's good to see you awake, William." Hannibal said, coming into the living room, a paper bag in his arms that he set down on the table.

"You've seen me awake several times today, just most of the time I was not fully aware of my actions. Surely they were suspicious about me?"

"About us, you mean. They were quite intrigued by our display."

"What display?" Will asked, his heart pounding slightly in his chest from a fear that was now rising in his chest.

Hannibal smiled and he began to advance on Will. The ex-FBI agent backed away, feeling the wall behind him just short of it and he let out a heavy breath of fear as the other closed into his space and sanguine contrasted with blue as they remained locked together. Will in hatred and Hannibal in extreme satisfaction. Hannibal simply smiled before pulling away.

"Come, Will. Let's have dinner. I've planned a vegetarian meal for you, as I take it you are not quite willing to delve into the meat I provide any time soon."

A nausea rose up inside of Will and he felt himself becoming disoriented merely at the idea of the meat. "Please don't bring that up..."

Hannibal leads Will out to the dining table, pulling out the chair for Will who reluctantly sits down. "You never complained about my food before."

"I didn't know that it was people before."

"It still does not change the fact that it was people."

Will's body trembles slightly and Hannibal places the dish in front of him. "Bon Appetite."

Will looks down at the dish placed in front of him, relieved to see that Hannibal had not lied to him when he had said it would be vegetarian. He licked over his lips slightly, noticing the hunger that was now building within his stomach as the realization dawned on him that he had not eaten in several days. He cut into the tender vegetables, pressing his fork into the tender flesh before placing it into his mouth, some of the juice trickling down from the corner of his lips. Hannibal's eyes never leave his face and they follow the flowing juice until it trailed down to Will's jaw line. It seemed as though the man didn't notice it as he continued to eat, never once looking up at the cannibal.

The meal was passed in silence, with only one interruption from Will, who asked for a glass of wine in the middle of his meal as Hannibal sipped from his own glass. Of course, the man had denied the other of the delicacy, not wanting to encourage the other's alcoholism. Once \the meal had passed, he cleared the table and Will excused himself quickly. Hannibal followed him shortly after, finding him sitting in front of the fire. He moved over to the other man's side and he rested a hand on top of his shoulder.

"I need you to come with me, Will. We have to change your appearance."

"And why would I agree to that?" Will asked voice reasonably calm.

"You act as though I am giving you a choice."

Will nods his head and he stands up, following the guiding hand that rested against his shoulder up the stairs and into a cream coloured bathroom. He guided Will in front of the mirror and moved into one of the drawers, pulling out an old-fashioned barber blade. He prepared the soapy mixture and placed the brush within the mix before he moved it up to the other's face, allowing the bristles to move against Will's jaw. When his face had been thoroughly coated, Hannibal raised the blade up and he pulled Will's head back slightly, exposing the expanse of his neck as Hannibal made the first clean stroke.

Will's body was tense as he felt the initial swipe of the blade against his skin. A flickering thought of the amount of times Hannibal had carved skin with a knife. He wondered how easy it would be for the other to end his life. Hannibal continued with his strokes until he had cleanly shaven Will's neck. He moved then onto his jaw, grasping onto Will's chin for leverage as he carried the blade over the skin once more. Will held himself still, afraid that even the slightest movement would cause a laceration.

Once Hannibal had finished, he allowed the blade to fall away from skin in order to rinse it clear under the faucet. He heard Will let out a heavy breath and he smiled softly as he visibly saw the other relax. He ran a cloth under the steaming water of the faucet and he brought it up to the other's face as he cleaned up the residue of the soap. He turned Will so that he was facing him and he smiled softly.

"I believe it would be wise for you to change into something more...appropriate."

Before Will could respond, Hannibal guided him into a bedroom and stood him in front of a three piece mirror that showed Will in both a frontal view, as well as a three-quarter view on both side. Hannibal vanished, if only momentarily, before coming back with a suit in hand. He tapped at Will's arms and the younger man knew what to do, raising his arms up slightly. Hannibal pulled off the other's plaid shirt and worn out t-shirt, as well as the worn jeans that Will seemed to dawn whenever possible. A faint red began to spread across Will's face in a healthy flush.

Hannibal kept his smile to himself this time as he handed each item of the suit to Will slowly, watching as the other covered himself up as quickly as possible. The suit was a perfect fit, much to Will's surprise, but not to Hannibal's. The man was an expert when it came to tailored suits and he had Will's measurements reserved in his mind. Lastly, the man came around and pulled a bow-tie around the other's neck, tying it effectively before pulling away with a smirk.

Will allowed himself to gaze up into the mirror, looking at himself with a slight confusion. It was obvious that the suit had been tailored for him specifically , but what for? Will turned to meet Hannibal's gaze.

"Where are you taking me that I have to be dressed like this?" Will asked, his breath slightly laboured. "Or are you dressing me up so that you can finally end me?"

"I would never kill you in such a fine suit, Will. It would be such a waste."

"Of the suit." Will mumbled.

Hannibal chuckled slightly and he brought his hand down onto Will's shoulder once more, a sensation that Will was certain he would become accustomed to and he was lead out of the room, down the stairs, to the back door. It lead out towards the garage, where an exact model of Hannibal's Bentley lay in front of them. Will raised an eyebrow and turned to look at him.

"Your lavish lifestyle is going to lead to your arrest." Will said simply as he walked towards the car. Hannibal guided him to the passenger side, sitting him down, before he got into the drivers side.

The garage opened and Will couldn't help but to become slightly excited at the possibility of finding out where it was that Hannibal had taken him. They drove out into the night and at first, the location was difficult for Will to decipher as the home in which Hannibal had taken up for them had been remote. It wasn't until the night sky became illuminated by the dull lights of building riddled with history that Will's eyes began to widen in disbelief. Hannibal's smile flashed a brilliant white in the darkened car.

"Welcome, dear Will, to Florence."

Chapter Text

There was a sharp intake of breath from Will as the car continued down it's path into the heart of Florence. He was not surprised that Hannibal had chosen a more remote location for them to reside in, hoping not to draw too much attention to them. A part of him was unable to even fathom the possibility of Florence or even the possibility of Europe. The idea that he was completely out of the jurisdiction of the FBI. He was a case that would be considered abandoned until he set foot on American soil and evidence came forth that he truly had.

The car ride seemed to extend for longer than Will believed possible and the silence seemed to last even longer. They were not travelling fast and Will debated running, but he wouldn't. He could wait. The Bentley came to a stop and Hannibal slipped out with complete grace and ease, as if he feared nothing in the world, the chance of being caught not even crossing his mind. Will flinched when his door opened and he saw the doctor's hand being offered toward him. He reached out hesitantly and Hannibal gripped his hand lightly and he lifted him out of the car.

All of Hannibal's movements were enacted with such grace, meanwhile Will stumbled out, his cheeks flushing a dark shade of red from embarrassment as he felt the eyes of those around them staring. Hannibal leaned in close, his lips against Will's ear and he could not help but to find the action to be too intimate.

"Nobody will be looking at you, William. Not while you're with me."

"Is that meant to comfort me?" he said, voice quiet and hushed.

Hannibal smiled softly and he pulled Will along as he wrapped his arm around the other man's waist. It was obviously an opera house and as he observed the patrons surrounding him, he could not help but to become more uncomfortable with each passing moment. He knew that these people would not realize that something was particularly wrong with himself and Hannibal because they would be far too focused on themselves. Hannibal dragged them towards the entrance where a young woman observed the tickets with a careful glance. She took Hannibal and Will's tickets, smiling softly, before it slowly turned into a frown.

"I apologize, sir, but you two will not be sitting together. They must have made a mistake with your tickets. Mr...Mr. Fell will be sitting on the balcony across from you."

Hannibal's body stiffened slightly and Will smiled softly. It did not go unnoticed by the other man. "If you'll excuse us for a moment. He's just a bit shy, so I want to make sure that he'll be comfortable."

She smiled at him. "Of course, sir."

Hannibal lead Will away from the crowd, the grip on his arm tight. He followed wordlessly until he felt his back being pressed against a wall, only a few more people left in the room with them. The cannibal reached a hand up to run lightly over the scar that ran diagonally across his face.

"I am going to trust you now to behave. If you even try to run, I can promise you, Will, that these scars will seem minor to the ones that Francis Dolarhyde gave you."
A lump formed within Will's throat and the only implication that he offered Hannibal to show that he understood was a simple nod of his head. The man smiled affectionately and he stroked over the scar softly before pulling away, content with moving to his original seat in order to watch the opera. The ex-FBI agent stumbled back and he took a moment to catch his breath. His ticket rested shakily in his hands and he made his way towards his section of the opera house, a different woman smiling at him as she took his ticket. He made his way up the steps carefully and as he sat down, he could see Hannibal from across the room, those maroon eyes locking onto his form.

As darkness fell over the room, the stage lighting up in front of them, Will found it impossible to pay attention. His eyes scattered all across the room, watching the enrapturing eyes around him as they gazed upon the stage and slowly, he turned his gaze back in Hannibal's direction, only to find those maroon eyes had never left his form. His blue eyes locked with the other's and he couldn't help but to wonder why he cannot break the gaze. It is only when the lights come on that Will realizes how much time has passed and that he has no idea where the time had fled. He stood up slowly, brushing off his suit and he walked down into the hall, where the socialites chatted amongst themselves. He seemed to have been lost in the crowd. He almost relaxed, however, when a hand rested on his shoulder.

Will spun around, expecting to meet Hannibal's gaze, but rather than face the maroon eyes, he met a deep pair of hazel. Will flinched and stepped back away from the man who stood close to him, who wore a smile on his face. His eyes flicked back and forth, looking around for the familiar man, but the unfamiliar hand came to rest upon his shoulder once more.

"You seem rather lost, sir," the man spoke, the thick accent that curled off his tongue matching the smirk that still resided upon his face.

"I came with someone, he should be-" Will cut himself off in order to look around once again. This man did not realize the danger that he was in.

"He's quite foolish, if he lost you."

The man reached forward in order to brush a stray curl out of Will's face, but his wrist was snatched mid-reach. Will followed from the hand, up the arm, until he saw Hannibal's face looming over the other. The hazel eyed man took back his wrist with a chuckle.

"I do hope, sir, that this was not the man who gave you such scars."

Will flinched at the mention of his scars and it was obvious that Hannibal took notice. "I would appreciate it if you would not bring up my lover's scars. He's very sensitive when it comes to them."

"I believe he can fend for himself." the man argued.

"I believe that he is none of your concern." Hannibal spoke with all the rationality he held.

He gripped onto Will's wrist and began to drag him away. He wanted to warn the man of the danger he had gotten into, but Hannibal would not offer him such a chance. He knew that the man had been quite the socialite in his old life and Will was certain that the man would love to create such a reputation for himself again, but rather than stay, he dragged them both back towards their car. Will was forced roughly into the passenger side, the door slammed shut quickly before Hannibal moved in on the driver's side.

There was a moment of silence that passed within the car and he knew that Hannibal was angry, or at least agitated, but he did not allow the emotion to betray his composition. Will swallowed nervously and he looked down at the ground.

"Why did you tell that man we were lovers?" he asked.

"Why didn't you deny it?" Hannibal countered.

"You're not going to kill that man. He did nothing wrong."

"He asked questions, Will. He was rude."

Will flinched at that and he turned to look at Hannibal. "You can't possibly be thinking..."

"A predator hunts, William. It's choice of prey is entirely up to the hunter."

Will remained silent and Hannibal continued. "You behaved well during the performance."

"You treat it as though I have a choice." Will couldn't help but to laugh as he spoke.

"There is always a choice, William." Hannibal said as he turns up to their new home, parking inside the garage. "One option was simply more logical than the other."

Will turns to leave the car, the locks opening and he moves quickly, walking towards the door to the house, but Hannibal blocked it from him. He looked up at him with a confused expression, not understanding why he was not allowed to go in. He felt Hannibal's hand come up to rest on his throat, lifting his head slightly and Will allowed his gaze to move up to the ceiling, letting out a heavy breath.

"Tell me, William, do you miss your family?"

"My family left me."

"That's right. Molly and young Will left you. You couldn't protect them. Francis Dolarhyde almost slit that poor boy's throat and it would have been all your fault."

"I did what I had to do." Will breathed out.

"No," Hannibal shook his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small blade, a letter opener, and pressed it against Will's throat. "You became a puppet of Jack Crawford."

"I-I didn't..."

"Now tell me, Will, can you allow yourself to be a puppet for me?"

The blade moved away from Will's throat and he relaxed slightly, allowing himself to move into the house quickly. His hands were shaking slightly, but he wouldn't allow it to control him. He looked around, wanting to find his room. Hannibal had never assigned him once, but he found that he could not be bothered to care. He moved up the stairs and he saw the long hallways. He could hear the clomping of hooves on the ground. No, not again. Antlers appeared from the door frame. God, no. He spun around and found his back against the wall, Hannibal's arms on either side of his body. He looked up at him, licking over his lips.

"Please help me..." he whispered quietly.

There was only a brief pause, a moment of the utmost clarity and hesitation, before Will felt warm breath against his lips and then the pressure that only his mind had ever given him, as Hannibal's lips pressed against his in a kiss that Will almost believed to be a fraud.

Chapter Text

It almost felt as though Will's breath was being stolen away. The kiss in itself was by no means gentle and he could swear that Hannibal was trying to devour him in that single movement of lips. Hannibal's hands came up to weave into his hair, gripping onto the curls so that the other man could not pull away from him. Will squeezed his eyes shut tightly and his body trembles. He stumbles forward as he is pulled closer and he rested his hands on Hannibal's arms. Their chests pressed together and he felt Hannibal taking a step towards him, which in turn, Will took a step back. The process repeated until Will was backed up against the wall. Up until now, Will had remained unresponsive to the kiss, but with the grip in his hair and the lips that moved so ravenously against his own, he felt his body answer the yearning he had felt for years as he submitted underneath the other man.

Hannibal felt the submission the moment it happened and as soon as it did, he restrained himself, no longer needing to push Will into giving in. He could now act as he pleased, being gentle with the fragile man. He raised a hand up to run over the scar on Will's face, causing a tremor to move through the younger man. Scarred flesh was always the most sensitive. With that thought in his mind, he trailed his hand down to the scar that rested on his abdomen to just below his rib. He ran his fingers over his mark and Will couldn't help the trembling moan that passed through his lips. With that single sound, the kiss was broken.

The criminal's hand did not move away from the scar and Will's eyes did not flick open. For a moment he could just pretend that he was in Hannibal's office and that he did not know that he was the Chesapeake Ripper. He wanted to pretend that the meals they shared had just been that and not a sick game Hannibal had used to entertain his own perverted preferences. When he finally did open his eyes, they locked with the maroon once more and he dared not turn away.
"It seems befitting, this mark." Hannibal spoke easily, the words sliding off of his tongue as he dug a nail in to the tender scarred flesh.

Will let out a high whine, much like the one's his dogs used to make. "Don't..." he protested.

"Or what, William?" he asked, flashing his teeth as he smiled.

He swallowed nervously and averted his gaze to look at the crown moulding surrounding the ceiling. "I want to go to bed..." he said, his voice small.

Hannibal nodded, running a hand through Will's hair. "I would suspect so. You must be tired."

Will could only nod and Hannibal smiled, placing a hand on the small of Will's back and he lead the other into a bedroom. He said nothing more, simply locking and shutting the door behind Will. The other spun around, taking in his surroundings. Decorated in the Baroque style, the ornate golds that surrounding the room reflected in the dull light of the night sky. He did not even bother to open the doors that lead out to the balcony. He knew that they would be locked. He sighed heavily, stripping down out of his formal wear, folding it neatly on the chair next to the bed, until he was left in only his briefs. He crawled under the cold sheets and he relaxed slightly as they hit his body. He was content to pretend as he drifted off to sleep.

There was a distinct sound of hooves against muddy dirt and as Will turned around, rain cascading over his skin in rapid drops, he knew the appearance of the familiar stag was just behind. He greeted it openly, like a long lost friend. He remembered the years where it plagued his every thought, but now, it was like a guest. He held out his hand gently, running a hand over the muscle. The beast bowed it's head and Will smiled widely. He felt it's antlers pressing against his lower abdomen and felt it piercing through the flesh. A soft gasp escaped Will's lips and he allowed his eyes to fall shut as the pain blossomed in his abdomen and he felt it push inside until it exited through his back.

He shot up from the silken sheets of his bed, breathing laboured and curls sticking to the top of his head. He ran a hand down towards his abdomen, feeling over the scar and he let out a long sigh of relief. He ran a hand through the matted hair and he slipped out of the bed, not wanting to fall back asleep in the damp sheets. He walked over to the door, attempting to pull it open, forgetting momentarily that it was locked. A frustrated groan fell from his lips and he began banging on the door violently, hoping to rouse Hannibal from his sleep. It only took several minutes before Will heard footsteps and then the click of the lock in his door before he took a step back as Hannibal stepped into the room.

"I do hope that you are well, Will, though judging by the insistent banging upon your door and the state of your appearance, I would assume not." Hannibal said, register calm, but a his upper lip was pulled up into a slight sneer.

"Nightmare, I..." Will swallowed slightly, looking up and staggering back as he saw the wendigo once more in Hannibal's place.
"What did you dream about, William?" the wendigo asked as he advanced towards him.

Will moved back away from him until he was resting on the bed once again, crawling onto it in an attempt to get away from him. "You...I dreamed about you. You pierced me" he responded and he ran his hand over the scar once more, trying to stick his fingers into the imaginary wound.

Hannibal smiled softly and he moved closer to Will, looming over him on the bed, though his stance was only meant to make Will uncomfortable. He moved his hand down to rest on the scar and the younger man's eyes fell shut as his body shook slightly. Fear was such an awful drug. He dug his nails into the flesh, running them up the length of the scar until his hand hovered just above his rib cage. He allowed his hand to trail over just slightly until it rested over his heart and he dug his nails into the flesh there as well and Will's eyes flashed open. The two stared at each other.

"I proclaimed to you that I would eat your heart. I do hope you realized how much of a compliment that was, dear Will."

"If I recall correctly, you said, 'Dear boy, I do admire your courage. I think I'll eat your heart,' as you held a knife over my chest."

Hannibal let out a dark chuckle. "It was a great honour once. Native tribes used to eat the hearts of their enemies because they wanted to consume their courage."
"Are we enemies, Hannibal?" Will asked, breath heavy as his eyes closed once more.

"No, William. But I still plan to consume you either way."

Hannibal leaned down now and Will's body fell back against the dampened sheets and the cannibal could feel the tremble running through the ex-FBI agent and he found all of it to be positively delightful. His arms trapped Will in on either side of his body and his form pressing down on the body of the other successfully pinned him. A thrum of excitement ran through Hannibal at the idea that he had the other exactly where he wanted him after all these years.

"We'll have to change..." Will spoke quietly, breaking the silence and the dominance of Hannibal's stance.

"Whatever do you mean, William?"

"The FBI knows that we've left America...they'll be sending out images of us. If we don't change our physical appearance, we'll be found. You don't want that, do you?"

"I would think that you would." he commented, moving one hand to wrap around Will's throat slightly, a warning.

"You'd kill me before you'd give me over..." he whispered.

"And how do you propose we change, William?"

Will swallowed nervously and he licked over his lips. "Distinctive features mostly. My scars..." he whispered. "You have your additional finger."

"We're not getting rid of your scars. You may think they're ugly, but I myself find them rather appealing."

"Only because you gather satisfaction from the fact that you're the one who ensured they would happen."

"I had no guarantee what would happen. For all I had known, he could have killed your son and wife only."

Will flinched at the thought. "Don't talk about them."

"Even now, despite the fact they abandoned you, there is still sentiment in your heart for them. How quaint, Will."

Will's anger was fuelled and he sat up, going nose to nose with Hannibal as the two stared each other down once more. For a moment, that's all it was, a fight for dominance between the two men. Hannibal lunged forward first, slamming their lips together roughly as he gripped onto Will's hair, strands of it tearing from his skull and he let out a high whimper of pain, but did nothing to protest. He kissed him, until Will found that he could no longer remain unresponsive and he began to press his lips back against the other. Hannibal pulled away with a grin before he tilted Will's head to the side, exposing the vulnerable flesh of his throat which he allowed his teeth to tear violently into it, causing the reverberating sound of Will's scream.

Chapter Text

Agent Clarice Starling walked into Jack Crawford's office, the bags around her eyes revealing much about how she was spending her evenings. She sat down in the seat in front of his desk, holding her head in her hands as pain split through the middle of her head. Crawford sipped at his coffee, eyeing her quietly as he waited for her to be the one to start the desired conversation.

"He left no trace, Jack. Not a single trace."

"I know, Agent Starling."

"But how? Surely Will would have tried something, anything in order to ensure that they would be found."

Crawford placed his mug down and he folded his fingers together into an arch as he looked at her. "Did you study the case built upon Hannibal Lecter?"

"Of course, everyone did."

"Did you ever study the case built upon Will Graham when he was originally incarcerated?"

"It was considered void and invalid because he was proven to be innocent."

"Very good, but also foolish. While proven to be incorrect, it provided insight into many of Graham's accusations against Dr. Lecter during this time. Lecter had been inducing Will's seizures and encouraging his encephalitis so that he would have lapses in time. It was all planned out strategically. Now look at the footage that we gathered from the airport."

Crawford opened his computer, pulling up the several files that had been sent to him from the airport security. He turned his computer in order to face Clarice and she watched as both Will and Hannibal walked through the airport. Hannibal carried a similar air about him, however, he was acting purposely friendly. Will in himself seemed dazed, but rather friendly as well. He laughed with Hannibal and stayed close to him the entirety of the time. She watched as they leaned in and kissed several times and she forced herself to look away.

"You don't think that Will went willingly, do you?" she asked.

"No. We found the syringes and chloroform at Will's house. Dr. Lecter left them there on purpose for us."

"So we would know." Clarice mumbled quietly.

"The two originally flew out to Milan, but we've lost them since then. I'm assuming that Will is not even aware that he went."

"Do you think Lecter will kill him?" Clarice asked.

Crawford offered her a look that immediately answered her question. "The intimacy shared between Hannibal and Will was and is rather extreme. Despite the danger Will might pose to Lecter, he won't kill him. Unless under dire circumstances."

"And what dire circumstances would those be?" Clarice asked, looking at Crawford now with a neutral expression.

"The possibility of Will being able to return is not an option that Dr. Lecter will allow."

"He'd rather have him die?"

"He would let you die too, Clarice. There is no option for loss in him."

"Me?"

"If you recall, Clarice, he saw you in the same light as he saw Will Graham. As an object of interest."

"Yet I was not the one he took."

"No. Not yet, Agent Starling. But tread carefully."

The distinct click of heels could be heard resounding through the FBI Headquarters as Agent Starling stormed out of Jack Crawford's office, a look of frustration crossing over her face. Emotions always dramatically change the appearance of a woman's face, whether she means for it to or not. She walked out to her car, sliding into the front seat before turning the ignition. Her hands gripped on tightly to the steering wheel and her turns and movements were sharp and agitated. There was none of the usual finesse that she carried with her.

Once she arrived back at her dorm room, where she had recently finished packing her things, with only a few remaining boxes left, she was surprised to find a letter waiting outside. She bent down examining the paper. It had her name written in an elegant hand and when she opened the envelope, small flakes of red tumbled down onto the ground. She pulled out the slit of paper that rested on the inside and as she read her heart froze over.

You are Cordially Invited

to Dine with

Dr. Hannibal Lecter

and

William Graham

As she allowed her eyes to scan over the paper, her heart nearly lept from her chest as her phone began to ring. An unknown number registered and she answered uncertainly.

"Hello?" she asked, her voice wary.

"Good morning, Clarice. I trust you've been sleeping well, now that the lambs are silent from their slaughter." Dr. Lecter's voice rang clear through the phone.

A lump formed in her throat and she forced herself to swallow it down. "Dr. Lecter."

"I trust you received my invitation. I would advise you to reply soon. It would be rather rude to leave us waiting."

"What have you done with Special Agent Graham?" she asked, not wanting to drag the conversation away from what really mattered.

"I have done nothing to William that he himself did not ask for."

"If you let him go, they'll have less of a reason to track you down."

"Surely you're not so naive to believe that they would ever stop? Come now, Clarice, you had started off so well."

"My apologies, Dr. Lecter." she said, speaking the name loudly in the hopes that someone in the dorm would hear her voice.

"You were doing so well up until then, Agent Starling," Lecter's voice had grown stern, "Until we meet again."

Before she could utter a word of protest, the call had ended. Her mouth closed into a tight line. She hung up, before pulling it off the receiver once more and began to dile Jack's number. His home number now. It rang several times, before a grumble came as a response.

"Do you require my services urgently, Agent Starling, or can this wait until we can sit down and discuss it in my office tomorrow?"

"Dr. Lecter just phoned me." There was a small pause.

"I warned you to tread carefully."

"Is that meant to make me feel better, Sir?"

"Nothing involving the FBI is meant to make you feel better, Starling."

"What are we meant to do? Is there anyway we can trace Lecter?"

"We can trace where the call came from, but Lecter is not a fool. He would not allow himself to be caught."

"And what of Will Graham?"

"All we can hope is that Lecter has mercy on him."

Clarice allowed her hands to trail over the letter, licking over her lips. "I received an invitation. From both Lecter and Agent Graham."

"An invitation?"

"I am cordially invited to dinner."

"Is there an address?" Crawford asked with an urgency now.

Clarice flipped over the invitation, frowning deeply. "No."

"Bring it to the lab, Starling. If we can trace anything from that letter, it could lead us back to Agent Graham."

Chapter Text

Will's cheeks flushed a dark shade of red as he looked into the mirror, looking at the crescent shaped scars that rested on the pale expanse of his throat. He ran his fingers over them, feeling the jagged skin that now rested there. He let out a heavy hum and he slipped on his shirt, before pulling on his coat, popping the collar up so that it would cover the scar, if only slightly. He walked out of his room, making his way down the stairs. He had almost reached the front door, before Hannibal's voice halted him in his steps.

"Are you going out, Will?"

"I was planning to, yes. Why?"

"I was just wondering if you could pick up some eggs on the way home. We're out."

Will let out a relieved sigh. "I can do that."

He quickly exited the house and he moved quickly down the road. Hannibal would never allow him to use the car, so he wasn't naive enough to even attempt it. It took roughly an hour to get into town from their distant home, but Will had to admit that he enjoyed the walk. It was just another moment away from Hannibal and away from tyranny. It had been a long process before the other had even trusted to let him outside on his own, but when he did allow it, the ex-FBI agent showed how grateful he was. He had to admit, that he didn't know that kissing could go so far. It never occurred on a daily basis, but rather occurred in a rewards system. When Will did something the other liked, he kissed him and when Hannibal did something that allowed Will if even the slightest more freedom, then he initiated the contact. There was no hidden feelings behind them. They were not romantic, like one of the first kisses he had shared with Hannibal, but rather, they were similar to a seal.

The midday sun was blaring down on him and he was could feel the burn of his body underneath the coat he wore and yet he was unable to remove it, out of fear of the scar. There was only so much he could allow people to see and despite the fact that he knew the sight of the scar would alarm people and perhaps draw their attention to him, he could not bring himself to do it. It made him question himself, but Will knew that he had always been conscious of his scars. He made his way into the town and he smiled at the faces that had now grown familiar. Everyone had grown accustomed to his presence as well as Hannibal and none of them asked about the scars on his face. It made him feel as though they were not even there to begin with. He spent hours down there, running his hands lightly over the flowers on the stalls, purchasing one, a simple orchid. He placed it in the breast pocket of his coat, which eventually he allowed to slide off of his shoulders.

The continuation of his walk had him smiling softly from the peace of it all. Even through the darkened parts of the city, he couldn't contain it. A part of him thought that he could become adjusted to this kind of life. His mind, he discovered, had never been so silent. The prospect frightened him as he thought back on the situation he was in. Living with Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter. He thought back to the bite, how it had hurt so much after the initial movement of sinking his teeth into his flesh and then how it had just become numb. It reminded him of the acts of submission he had witnessed in his dogs back home. A shot of fear had moved through him and he was sure that Hannibal had noticed it, but Will had not uttered one more word of protest. He ran a hand over the mark once more, before he felt something lift it away. He turned around immediately, to see the man from the opera so many weeks ago. He smiled politely, before trying to move away from him, but the man simply grabbed onto him, halting him in his movements.

"It seems that your lover has left you with more scars than you can bare," the man spoke, voice laced with a sort of glee at the prospect.

"I believe he told you that I was none of your concern." Will spoke easily, with the same cool countenance that Hannibal carried about him.

"Do you not want to know my name, before you turn me away?" the man asked and Will simply shook his head.

"I feel no desire to become friends with you, or more." he said, pulling away from the other, walking quickly in order to get away from him.

"I would not be so hasty, Mr. Graham."

Will froze at the mention of his name and the man laughed. "I suppose you were not anticipating that, good sir. Your scars are all over the news, well, the American news. I just happened to have been so fortunate to have caught a glimpse. Your lover seems to have quite the taste for flesh." he took a step closer to Will, "Now what does that say about you?"

"I haven't harmed anyone..." Will breathed out.

"Oh, I'm aware. But why won't you allow me to save you, William?" the man asked and brushed a curl behind Will's ear.

"I shall not condemn you as well."

"Whether you come to me willingly for help or not, I am going to the police. How much do you think I will take in for Hannibal 'The Cannibal' ?"

Will's heart began to race and he tried to run from the other, but he caught him easily. The two were knocked to the ground and as much as Will attempted to fight, the lack of training he had given his own body over the course of the years was taking its toll now. The man pinned him down easily and grinned.

"I need evidence for my conviction... Surely you understand, Mr. Graham."

Will shook his head and he pushed all of his weight towards his hips, thrusting up and knocking the man back. He acted quickly, pinning him down now. His mind when blank for a moment. He only recognized the struggle before he heard the sickening snap. His eyes fluttered open after an instant and he looked down below at the limp figure. His heart raced and he covered his mouth with his hand. He stood up quickly, looking down at the corpse of this nameless man before he ran. He ran as fast as he could, back up to the house. The front door was locked and he began banging on it wildly, as if he were a mad man. The door opened slowly and Hannibal looked upon the figure of Will, saying nothing, but allowing the other to come inside. He looked him over and he frowned.

"You forgot to pick up the eggs."

"H-Hannibal, I-I..." Will couldn't speak.

"William?" Hannibal prompted.

"I killed him..." he whispered.

The cannibal's eyes widened, but he did not have much else to show for his surprise. "Who?"

"T-The man from the opera...he knew. He knew who I was and I...I panicked." he whispered, covering his mouth with his hand. "I just snapped his neck...as if it meant nothing."

Hannibal let out a hum as acknowledgement, but Will could see the growing smile that rested just beneath the skin. He moved out of the room and came back with a case and his set of keys.

"Where did you leave the body, Will?"

"In an alley...just off the main street. Near the flower stalls..." he whispered, moving his coat around before he reached in and pulled out the orchid.

Hannibal smiled as he looked upon the flower and he plucked it from Will's hand. He looked it over, before placing it into Will's hair. He chuckled slightly. "I'll be back within the hour."

He stepped closer to the other, resting a hand on his cheek before he leaned down to kiss him. Will knew it to be a reward, but it felt so different. The way Hannibal held him close and the wave of passion that seemed to move from the other into Will. He allowed his eyes to shut and he gripped onto the other tightly, kissing him back with an equivalent amount of passion. Hannibal pulled away only a moment later, smiling at the other, before moving past him out the door. Will let out a heavy breath as he heard the door shut. He wasted no time and moved quickly, up the stairs and into his bedroom. He didn't bother to lock the door.

He stripped himself of his clothing and lied down across his bed. The sheets were cool against his heated skin and if he were not so urgent, he probably would have given himself a moment to enjoy the simplicity of the feeling. Will reached into his night-stand, finding the hand moisturiser that Hannibal insisted he use in order to heal his skin. At least it would be getting some use. He coated his hand in it and slowly began to run his hand over his cock. There was a large intake of breath, before it was released in a chopped series of exhales. He started slow, growing accustomed to the feeling of pleasure. Small whines and whimpers were accompanied by the arch of his back and the thrusts of his hips as his body began to grow greedy in its endeavours. He sped up now and he was on the cusp of orgasm, but not quite ready. His mind, clouded with the image of Hannibal in his mind thought of all the things that he could do, of the biting, kissing, fucking and yet all had him on the edge. His mind remembered that sickening snap and he envisioned the nameless man's head in his hands and the power he held as he ended his life in one swift moment. His release was inevitable then and almost as soon as it ended, Will's mind slipped back into his nightmare state and the stag was piercing him once more.

Chapter Text

Hannibal's Bentley halted close to the alley of the well lit street. The sunlight cascaded down onto the street, but the alley was shrouded in shadow and he could not help but to think it a bit cliché for Will's first murder to be here. He stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind him and he walked briskly into the alley, spotting the body just lying out in the open. Will's panic had caused him to be careless, but no matter. He could teach that all to him in little time. He put on the plastic gloves and opened the case in his hands, slowly beginning to wipe down the body as well as the scene. He could not leave anything that traced back to Will.

Of course though, he could not let good food go to waste. Once he had cleaned the crime scene, he took the man's body and made sure that nobody was around, before placing it within his car. Will's behaviour during the day was extremely inconvenient, not to mention having a high factor of risk. However, he was a professional. He drove back to the house, parking within the garage and bringing the body down to the basement quickly. He was glad when he pulled the man apart, organ by organ and the wonderful sound of the blood dripping onto the floor and the sound of the organs being ripped out just left him in the most pure euphoric joy. The blood splayed across Hannibal's face, but he payed it no mind. It had been so long since he had killed. He had been trying to allow Will to adjust, but there was no time for that now. He had to be integrated into this life, it seemed, sooner rather than later. The meal would be prepared tonight and Will would help him to complete the course.

He made his way up the flight of stares, gripping the railing so tight that his knuckles turned white and he saw the door to Will's room shut, but when he grabbed the handle, he was pleased to find it unlocked. He turned the handle and he began to make his way into the room, to find a pleasant sight in front of him. The man lay panting on the bed in front of him, evidence of his release still covering his chest as he lay with his eyes closed and tried to catch his breath.

"It's exhilarating, your first murder."

Will sat up, blush deepening to a dark hue. "Hannibal, I...."

"You need not explain to me, Will. I understand."

"Do you?" he asked, breathing heavily as he closed his eyes.

"I do," he repeated as he stepped closer to Will, sitting down next to him on the edge of the bed. "I believe that you don't understand, but that's alright. Behaviour can be taught."

Hannibal reached a hand up to brush the orchid that still rested in Will's hair, tucked behind a curl. A petal had fallen out in Will's endeavours and he smiled, running a hand lightly over it. Will held in his breath as he kept his eyes locked on the other, waiting to see what his next move would be. Hannibal leaned forward to kiss him once more and shudder visibly passes through Will and he is unable to keep himself composed as he kisses him back, running his hands over the blood that rested on Hannibal's face. It smeared across his hands and he brought it up to his own face, before pulling away from Hannibal. He moved swiftly off the bed and he grabbed onto his pants, slipping them on before he made his way into the bathroom, cleaning off his body quickly before coming back out.

"You're going to help me prepare dinner tonight." Hannibal said simply.

"I suppose that I don't have a choice," he responded.

"Well, you hunted the meat. Why not cook it?"

Will froze. "No, Hannibal."

"Yes, Will."

"I will not be an accessory to this." he argued.

Hannibal could not restrain his chuckle. "You already are."

He did not give Will a moment to respond as he grabbed onto him and he dragged him down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he had the organs ready. He placed Will in front of him, pressing him against the counter so that the other could not leave. He grabbed onto one of his knives and he forced it into Will's hand before he gripped his hand himself, forcing Will to cut. He could feel the other's body trembling, but he voiced no complaint. The process was slightly intriguing as Hannibal got to experience Will acting as his puppet, as he controlled the younger man's arms. After the meat had been cut up and seasoned to Hannibal's satisfaction, he began to cook it, slowly. Will would learn how to make their meals an art. Something of beauty. Once it was finished, he carved the meat and placed it delicately on two plates, before adding the leafs of lettuce and then, in a circlet, the seeds of the pomegranate. He released Will from his grasp at last, and he watched the man walk over to the table. He smiled and placed the meal in front of him, before he sat down for his own meal.

Will's eyes gazed down at the dish. "He recognized me because of my scars..."

"It's to be expected. It is a rather distinctive feature."

"If you do not want us to be caught then you must allow me to be rid of them." Will spoke, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"I once thought that was what you wanted, dear Will." he spoke as he took a sip of champagne.

Will ignored the comment. "It would be wise to have them removed."

"I will agree to the removal of your facial scars. However, you must do something for me in return, dear Will."

"And what would that be, Dr. Lecter?" Will asked in a cold tone.

"Eat the dinners that are prepared for you," he spoke with a small smile, "And allow me to leave another mark."

Will swallowed nervously and he looked down at the dish, staring at the flesh and the circlet of red fruit. He kept his eyes down cast and rather than piercing the meat, he pierces the pomegranate and he places it in his mouth, savouring the taste.

"You've given yourself to Hades." Hannibal commented.
Will pierced the flesh next and placed it within his mouth, chewing softly. "I care not to be Persephone now: not until the spring arises and I can return home once more."

Chapter Text

Alistair Maxwell walked through the streets of Florence with a giddy expression upon his face. It was easy for him to walk with such ease because he did not realize the possibility of danger that lurked around every corner. It had darkened to night and the man travelled, in his suit and tie and shoes bound in Italian leather, to the opera house. In the eyes of others, he was nothing more than a tourist who did not know his place. He spoke loudly in conversations that he had no right to participate in and he walked with an air about him that suggested he was of a higher class than those surrounding him, though it was obvious that he did not. One would think a man like that would have learned that such actions would have consequences.

The opera went on as planned, but unfortunately, it was with the added commentary of Mr. Maxwell, whom deemed it fit to state loudly to the person next to him, that he had seen school plays with much more talent and grace. His obnoxious and loud Scottish accent trailed through the entirety of the theatre and it was obvious that it had an effect on the entirety of the room. His actions did not go unnoticed by any eyes in the room. After every performance, there was always a social event where the socialites could discuss what they had seen and how marvellous it had been. All had hoped that the man would abandon all attempts at being a socialite, but he appeared to be delighted by the prospect of selecting the most confident in the room in order to draw him out into conversation.

"Tell me, sir, " Mr. Maxwell started, "Did you not truly think that to be an abomination to the theatre?"

The man in question looked over to the man who stood next to him, before turning back to Mr. Maxwell. "And what would make you believe that, sir?"

Alistair was taken aback from the man's thick accent. "I've seen better performances in-"

"School plays. I heard your comment during the performance." the man spoke with tight lips.

"Right..." he trailed off, but only for a moment. "Tell me, good man, where is that accent from? Russia?"

"Lithuania." he spoke easily, but there was an edge to his tone and Maxwell watched as the man beside him reached a hand up to rest it lightly over the other's arm.

"And who is this?" Maxwell asked as he looked upon the younger figure, who took a sip of champagne. "Your lover?"

The younger man choked slightly and Alistair laughed, clapping him on the back. "You need to learn to hold your liquor, son."

The man pulled the younger behind him and the other seemed quite glad of it as he took another swig of the champagne. "I can hold my liquor fine, thank you. It is inconsiderate and quite shocking comments I can't handle well."

"Come now, you act like it is not obvious."

"Whether it is obvious or not, it is still high inappropriate to bring up the private lives of strangers." the younger shot back, growing slightly more bold, but the older hushed him momentarily.

Alistair was the one to be taken aback this time and he frowned openly, "I think it is also quite obvious where you gained those scars, Sir. Perhaps had you been a better lover, you would not have received them."

The younger's eyes flashed brightly in anger and he went to take a step forward, but the older stopped him once more. He placed a hand on his back and gently guided him away from the other. Alistair smiled, considering this a victory. A rather easy one at that. The social ended rather early and he had to admit he was disappointed. He had been hoping to discuss his opinion on the opera with several more patrons. It would have been positively delightful to watch them grow so furious like that couple had. He walked out of the theatre and he began walking back towards the villa he had rented. He unlocked the door upon his arrival and stepped inside, throwing the keys on the side table by the door. He walked up the darkened stairwell and into his bedroom, flicking on the light and he began to strip of his suit piece by piece. He did not hear the creaking of the stairs as he hummed happily to himself. He closed his eyes as he did so and he did not hear the sound of the door creaking open. All he felt was the wave of pain that came as the knife sliced over his face, across his eye.

Before Alistair was allowed to release a scream of horror, he was easily knocked to the ground and when he looked up through the blood, he saw the youth and the man from the opera, looming over him. One seemed at ease, a natural, while the other held the bloody knife with shaking and trembling hands. Despite being an ignoramus when it came to the structure of social conversation, Alistair Maxwell could recognize the signs of unease and it was obvious that this boy had never killed.

"You don't want to do this..." he let out a hoarse cough.

The youth trembled and the older man leaned over to him, holding his shoulders tightly. "He isn't worthy of life, Will. Dissociate yourself from his humanity. There is nothing wrong with bringing a pig to the slaughter."

"Will, Will." Alistair spoke again. "I am alive. I am human and you cannot end a human life..."

"Don't talk to me..." the young man whispered and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"You don't want to do this."

"I said shut up!" Will shouted.

Alistair screamed as the man lunged at him and he felt the knife bury itself deeply within his belly, before it was pulled up, gutting him. "I gut this man, like I would a fish I had caught. I had lured him into a false sense of security and now that he is caught on my hook, he begs for life." He begins pulling out organs and Alistair's eyes are fading to black. "I take his organs for sustenance. He is worth nothing more than this. This is my design."

The pain eventually stops and for a moment, Alistair believes that he has just awoken from a terrible nightmare. However, he can still feel the wetness of the blood against his face and body as it soaks in and he can feel his heart struggling to pump blood that wasn't there. He looks up at Will with his one good eye and he does not see the same look that he had while the man gutted him. He sees remorse and worry and watches as Will backs away from his body and the older man holds onto him tightly to stop him from fleeing. Alistair's eyes close for a final time.

Will tries to break free from Hannibal's hold, but the other man holds him tightly, not wanting the other to make a foolish mistake and have them both get caught. He pressed Will's face against is chest and the other began to sob openly, gripping onto Hannibal tightly as he trembled. The cannibal patted Will's hair and he soothed him until the other finally quieted down. Hannibal said nothing to him and simply smiled softly, before he went to grab the organs that Will had harvested. He led the two of them out of the villa, after he and Will had cleaned the scene, and they drove home. Will was silent the entire time, blood soaked hands still shaking violently. There was nothing Hannibal could do to help him right now, except wait.

The two of them walked silently up to the house and Hannibal quickly placed the meat in the freezer, not wanting to spoil it. Will watched him intently, but didn't bother to try and clean him. He looked down at his hands, running his fingers over the palms and watching them collect blood and he started to laugh slightly. Hannibal turned to look at him.

"I feel a bit like Lady Macbeth..." he responded. " 'Out damn spot, Out!' "

Hannibal smiled and he took Will's hands gently in his and he walked him over to the sink, placing them under the hot water and beginning to lather them with soap. "Except you killed a pig rather than a king."

Chapter Text

Will ran his fingertips over the soft skin of his face, rather than the rigid bumps he used to feel from his scars. A part of him couldn't believe it now. He saw Hannibal standing behind him and he allowed the other to approach him and he let him bend his neck and head to his pleasure.

"It's quite wondrous, how much you look like your old self." Hannibal commented.

"And yet I am so far gone from my old self..." Will whispered.

"Indeed," he spoke, stepping away from Will, "Are you ready to fulfill your end of the deal?"

Will nodded his head stiffly, and he Hannibal rested his hand against his back, leading him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. A plastic mat rested over the sheets of the bed, but some pillows had been propped up in order to ensure Will had some form of comfort. He climbed onto the bed slowly, not yet lying down as he took off his shirt and folded it, before placing it off to the side. He lied back down against the mattress and he smiled nervously up at Hannibal, before his eyes gazed up towards the ceiling. Hannibal
ran a sterile cloth over the blade he intended to use before he moved to crawl over top of Will. He rested the blade against Will's chest and the man let out a soft gasp.

"Not as deep this time... Okay?" Will asked quietly.

"I have no intention of trying to kill you this time, Will."

The blade pierced through Will's skin and the man released a grunt of pain before crying out loudly. Hannibal covered his mouth with his hand in order to muffle the sounds of his pain. He was not doing this in order to hurt Will, but rather to just show how connected they were. He still carried the scar from the bullet Will had so kindly lodged into his chest and he would never wish to be rid of it. The man bit into his skin and he smirked slightly as the other attempted to hurt him as he carved. Skin parts so easily under a blade and Hannibal forced himself not to think of how he carved and mutilated his victims as he imprinted his design on Will. There was something distinct in the making of a scar like this. It was not like the other, made out of the need to remained concealed, but rather to express his own desire to possess. It was one of his design and his making and he could make Will bare his mark for the rest of eternity and that idea thrilled him to no end. He thought about what he could turn the single line he had made into and he smiled softly as he finished carving the delicate 'M' into the flesh, before he pulled away. He pulled his hand away from Will's mouth, only to find it bleeding and he moved to the bathroom in order to wipe it away. Will sat up and he looked at it, his face pulling into a form of confusion.

"Hannibal, wha-" Will began to ask as he walked back into the room.

"Mischa," was the only response that the man offered.

He helped Will stand slowly and he walked him into the bathroom, filling the bathtub slowly with hot water. He looked at Will expectantly and watched blood rush up to the other's face as he slowly lowered his trousers and briefs onto the floor. Hannibal helped him into the water and he rolled up his sleeves, He reached a hand into the hot water and ran his hand over the scar, cleaning the blood from it. He watched as the water filled with red and became a tinge of pink and it made him happy. Will remained silent for a moment, closing his eyes and wincing whenever Lecter pressed too hard against the wound. He looked up at the other with a questioning gaze.

"Who is Mischa?" he asked.

"My sister."

"And what happened to her that made you want to brand me with her initial?"

"She died, when I was eight." he responded quietly.

Will felt a slight moment of pity and he reached a hand up to brush it over Hannibal's cheek. "Perhaps one day you'll tell me who you really are."

"I do not think you'll really want to know." Hannibal said as his hand covered Will's own.

"And why would I not want to know more about you, Dr. Lecter?" he whispered quietly, allowing his eyes to flick down, before he looked back at the other once more.

Hannibal smiled simply before he gestured for Will to stand up and the other did so slowly, keeping his eyes locked with the cannibal's. A towel was wrapped securely around him and he was pulled slightly closer. Will's feet slid across the floor and he reached his hands out to grasp onto the other. Hannibal allowed himself to look down now and he smirked slightly at the angry red still lingering on the wound. He let his hand rest on top of it now and Will hissed, but other than that, never let out another complaint. He snaked his hand up over his back, to the base of his neck and he gripped him tightly, pulling him closer and Will could feel his breath moving over his face and he allowed his eyes to fall shut. He felt himself being pulled closer and he moved forward several steps as he was lead out of the room. He felt his knees hit the edge of the bed and he fell back onto it, the towel opening fully as he fell back. A heavy breath released from his body and he kept his eyes closed as he felt Hannibal's own naked body press against his own. The man's hands travelled up to his wrists and they pinned them down and Will let out no struggle and simply relinquished himself into his desires. The grip on his wrists was tight and the nails dug into his skin, biting into the flesh, hard enough to leave bruises. He blinked his eyes several times and he looked up at Hannibal, letting out a rather heavy breath of air.

"Would you have ever done this in our past life?" he whispered quietly.

Hannibal doesn't respond and rather simply moves to mouth across the pulse of his neck. He would never admit to the other how delicious his skin tasted and he would never admit the fact that he entertained the fantasy of consuming it into his own body. He knew he never would, Will was far too precious for that, but it never harmed the other to entertain the prospect of it. There was a heavy breath that escaped Will's mouth and Hannibal stopped it halfway as he kissed the other deeply. With his wrists still pinned, he could do nothing whether it be struggle or pull Hannibal closer to him. There was a rush that came to him with the total submission of power, the idea that he was not in control of what happened to him gave him a freedom in his mind that allowed him to convince himself that he could not be held responsible for the upcoming actions of the evening.

Will's eyes dragged over the room as the other moved his lips down to his chest. He had never taken it in before, but now, his mind was forcing himself to develop a distraction. He always knew that the man was one for the darker side of life and the rich red that covered the walls and even lay beneath his naked body made the room look much smaller. He felt as though the longer he stared at the walls, the smaller the room became and he felt his breathing grow heavier. The curtains that hung around the room shrouded them, constricting and suffocating. He closed his eyes, slipping deeper in and he imagined Hannibal's hand on his throat and he pulled now against the hold on his wrists, attempting to claw at his throat. The grip only grew stronger and Will's eyes flashed open, locking with Hannibal's cold maroon stare.

"There is no time now for you to shrink away from your actions, Will," he said simply.

In a single movement, Hannibal dragged Will forward on the bed, gripping onto his hips tightly and hoisting him up so that their hips were pressed fully together and Will's scar pressed firmly against Hannibal's stomach, causing the younger of the men to let out a pained whine as he wrapped his arms and legs around the older man in order to support himself. He stared forward at the other once more and he found this time, there was no possibility of breaking their eye contact. He licked over his lips, before he allowed them to part slightly. Hannibal seemed to be analyzing his every movement and in turn, he watched his. The man stepped forward until Will's body was pressed back against the wall. It felt cool against his heated skin and now it supported him, rather than consumed him. He breathed heavily and lifted himself slightly, to rock himself against Hannibal, causing the other man's breath to hitch. He leaned down and kissed him again, this time rougher than he thought he could, biting at his lips and his arms reached up to pull at the other's hair. One of Hannibal's hands moved up into Will's hair, gripping onto the curls tightly and he pulled his neck back, tasting his skin once more and a small moan escaped from the empath's lips.

Desire built up in Will like a raging flame and he moved the hand that was in Hannibal's hair down to wrap around his cock. There was a hitched breath against his neck that turned into heavy pants as he continued his actions. Suddenly, he was moved swiftly back onto the bed, Hannibal towering over him once more in a domineering position that allowed Will to relinquish shame over his actions. Hannibal moved away for a second and Will sat up to watch him as he moved through the nightstand drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube. He walked back over and he Will looked away now, unable to consider the fact that this was happening. Often enough he had entertained the fantasy, despite his efforts to ignore his feelings, he would awake to find himself alone in his bed with his dogs looking at him with worried expressions. This time, he would not awake at his home in Wolf Trap. There was no chance of redemption.

The moment the finger circled his entrance, his body stiffened and he closed his eyes, feeling the initial breach. It felt uncomfortable, awkward, and he found the idea of it actually occurring unfathomable. He blinked his eyes open and there stood the wendigo in it's natural form, revealing itself to him in this pure moment of intimacy.

"I see you," Will whispered quietly, eyes fluttering slightly and then Hannibal was in front of him once more.

The stretch was dragged out for as long as Hannibal could prolong his discomfort, listening to the little huffs of breath as he was given a touch of pleasure before it was taken away. Once it was finally done, Will let out a slight wail, an animalistic side of him revealing itself. He licked over his lips and Hannibal loomed over him again, flipping his body over and forcing him onto his knees on the bed. He waited patiently until he felt the man come up behind him. The initial breach caused Will pain and he let out a grunt as he was seated back against his cock. They stood still for an initial moment and Hannibal allowed Will to adjust to the sudden pressure inside of his body.

A sound came out deep from inside of him as he felt Hannibal rock inside of him. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the other so that his back pressed against the man's chest and he felt Hannibal's hand travel up from his hip to rest on his throat, applying a light pressure against his trachea. The air flow was cut off, but only slightly, forcing Will to take deeper breaths and feel the rush of an imminent danger. The pace increased and soon Will found himself thrusting back against Hannibal, moans coming out of his mouth like a mantra as the man behind him hit his prostate with each precise thrust. He could hear the sounds of Hannibal's own pleasure in his ear and he knew that this moment of intimacy would not last much longer. The thrusts began to grow more erratic and as they did he could no longer resist the urge to touch himself. Each stroke timed itself with Hannibal's thrusts and the sounds of their breathing fell together. It was only a few moments longer before Hannibal released inside of Will, tightening his grip around his throat, causing the other to release, the immense feeling washing over him as he came as well.

Hannibal didn't give him the option to pull away, wrapping and arm around his waist, gripping onto the scar to cause Will to hiss in pain and he pulled him down against the sheets. Will didn't fight it, he would never fight the intimacy, and he allowed himself to drift off into sleep, listening to the screaming of his mind as he realized he could never deny his actions tonight and that he was fully to blame for these.

Chapter Text

Clarice stared ahead at the scene unfolding before her, heart pounding in her chest as she heard the clapping of the musical monkey as its symbols hit together in that slow rhythmic fashion. The voices blurred and her eyes focused ahead on the figure of the chandelier that rested on the ground. She jumped as it ignited and watched it rise from its position on the ground to loom above them in the theatre. An eruption of clapping came around her and she watched the audience stare agape ahead in front of them. Her eyes scanned the crowd slowly as she did so and they halted upon the figure she had been awaiting to find here. The one who had invited her in the first place.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter had dared to show himself again in the United States. He was a man willing to risk himself, but she knew that he would never risk Will. The concept of Will was now one of a possession to Hannibal. The man stood up amongst the crowd, applauding the cast more than any other member of the audience tonight. Clarice was aware of the empty seat beside her and she knew it would not be long until the man joined her in the empty space. The lights dimmed as the scene unfolded once more in front of them as the cast performed their piece in dedication to Hannibal of Carthage. She felt rather than saw the seat behind her be filled and she felt her body tense, but other than that, she had no other outward physical reaction. She turned to look at him, but he made no move to look at her and when she opened her mouth to speak, he rested a hand on her leg, indicating very well that she was meant to remain silent.

The number continued and Clarice watched the splendour of the Phantom of the Opera unfold in front of her and watched as Christine succumbed to the nature of her desires, only to be repulsed by them when she realized their true nature. Clarice was ever aware of the presence surrounding her as she paid close attention to the play, not wanting to turn her gaze towards the man next to her. Why the man had decided to meet her in New York, she would never fully understand. The man, in his entirety, was a complete mystery. But yet, not entirely so. He allowed glimpses of himself to be revealed in signature moments, but other than that he was very much in control as to what information was given out to those around him. As she continued to take in the spectacle of the musical, she empathized with the pain of the Phantom and understood his desperate need for affection. In a world where you are viewed as a monster, would you not become desperate for some form of intimacy? Then again, those who are under the guise of an average man and reveal themselves to be a monster crave intimacy as well. When the lights flashed up for intermission, there was nothing but silence from Clarice and
the other as the rest of the theatre buzzed with life.

"Tell me, Clarice, have the lambs stopped screaming?" Hannibal's voice rang close to her ear, but she knew that she was the only one who was able to hear it.

"Dr. Lecter," her tone was even and calm despite the fact that she knew there was a slight tremor in her voice.

"I was rather disappointed when I received no response from you, I had been hoping to continue our correspondence."

"I doubt the FBI would have appreciated a further development in our relationship."

Hannibal chuckled, the sound dark but light in his throat, "I would not say that entirely, Clarice, after all, they assumed my affections for you ran as deep as love and would have used you in an attempt to sway me to come out of the shadows, as they would call it."

She licked over her lips, a crack forming in the centre. "I doubt Jack Crawford assumed that, Dr. Lecter."

"He would now, if he were here to see you."

"I came out of my interest of the safety of Will Graham."

"Will Graham is more sane than he has ever been. As a psychiatrist, I can guarantee this."

"That doesn't exactly calm my concerns."

"It was not intended to, Ms. Starling."

"Why did you invite me here, Dr. Lecter?"

"You expressed an interest in Will Graham and I wish to exploit that interest by inviting you to return with me to where I have hidden him."

Clarice seemed stunned momentarily and for the first time that night, she turned to look at him. He looked the same as he had left her when he escaped from prison and the same malice was reflected in the maroon eyes. His smile, though small, held all the feelings he wished to express to her.

"I have no intention of going anywhere with you, Dr. Lecter," she said, voice small. "I phoned Crawford at the beginning of the performance. I suggest you leave now, if you wish to return to Will."

A frown replaced the smile on Hannibal's face and a small sigh fell from his lips as he looked over Clarice for what could possibly be the last time in a number of years. He had only ever seen her wearing her suit that emasculated her figure, where as now, in the dress she wore that hugged her hips and breasts, he saw her beauty more than he ever had before as he midnight blue of the dress shrouded her in the darkness of the theatre. He said nothing to her, simply leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss against her lips. It was not romantic, nor did it hold any inclination of being so. It was simply a parting of ways. Clarice understood this and allowed it. He pulled away, nodding his head, as did she. He left the theatre in an instant, just a few moments before Crawford and the Behavioural Science Unit of the FBI came in, interrupting the remains of the performance. It could not be salvaged, Clarice realized as she focused simply on the stage ahead, and neither could the life of Will Graham.

Chapter Text

Will sat in the hotel room in Times Square, staring down into the populated streets. There was never a moment of silence, he realized, as he continued to listen to the constant horns and mumbling of conversations that screamed throughout the roaring city. He did not understand why Hannibal had brought him here, the idea being rather foolish in his opinion, but if he knew Hannibal Lecter, the doctor already had everything he needed planned. He heard the door to the hotel room open and he let out a sigh, turning around to look at Hannibal as he stepped through the door.

"You act foolish around her. Your affection is becoming a weakness," Will spoke easily. "One day, you'll be caught while trying to impress her."

"She has a name, William." Hannibal said, slipping off his suit jacket and hanging it up in the coat closet.

"I saw some FBI SUVs driving by. Did she order them?"

"Yes. She was kind enough to wait until intermission however. Pity, I had been hoping to enjoy the rest of the performance."

"I'm sure you've seen it before."

"Ah, but each performance is different," Hannibal responded easily, moving behind Will, wrapping his arms around him tightly. "Each actor brings something different to their performance."

Will tried to ignore the fact that his arms are now pinned at his sides. Despite the fact that Hannibal has done this numerous times before, there is still an overwhelming sense of danger that comes with it. It worries him and causes a spout of fear that cannot be easily ignored. He's not afraid when he is allowing himself to become willingly vulnerable and places himself under Hannibal's control. He is only frightened when the other man attempts to take it on his own. He'll never become accustomed, he believes, to their estranged relationship and he not so foolish to not notice how dependent he is becoming on the sole individual in his life.

A hand came to wrap around his throat, forcing Will to move his head back against Hannibal's shoulder and he let out a shuddering breath as he allowed his eyes to fall shut as he tried to keep his breathing even and steady. There was a mutual understanding between the two and Will was aware of what the other wanted, but rather than give in now, he simply pulled himself away, moving to stand in front of the window once more. He heard Hannibal's footsteps come up behind him, though he didn't move away.

"Are you perhaps jealous, Will?"

He couldn't help but to laugh. "And why would I be jealous of her?"

"Perhaps because she has been able to receive something that you have not."

"What would that be, Dr. Lecter?"

"Jack Crawford's approval."

Another laugh tore through his throat and he turned around to face Hannibal now. "And what do I care for the approval of Jack Crawford?"

"You cannot deny it, Will. Everyone craves the approval of a figure who is situated above them in a hierarchy."

"I wouldn't necessarily say that," Will spoke calmly and smirked as Hannibal offered him an odd glance. "The French Revolution, for example?"

"Ah, but did they not still make a hierarchy in the end?" he asked.

"You expect me to listen to you? To crave your approval?"

"I expect that you understand what you want for yourself, rather than denying it."

"It's a lesson in self control."

"Sometimes, dear William, it is better to let go."

Hannibal's movement was precise and sharp and he grabbed onto Will's wrist tightly, turning him around and slamming him against the window. His face was pressed against the glass and his hands were spread out against it as he tried to support himself. One of Lecter's hands travelled down the small of his back and he trembled slightly, trying to flip himself over, but the criminal held him still, being much stronger than Graham. His shirt was torn off, Lecter no longer seeming to care about ruining such fine apparel. He tried to at least move himself away from the window, not wanting to allow others to see him in such a vulnerable state, but Lecter would have none of it.

"This is your becoming, dear Will. Embrace it."

A heavy breath expelled itself from Will's lungs and he struggled still, despite how pointless it was. Hands ran down over his thighs and he felt himself tense and then relax against the touch and he could almost feel Hannibal's smile. The hand came back to his throat and held him up so that his full body was exposed against the window as his other hand slowly slid off his trousers and briefs. He stood there, Hannibal behind him, an entire city of people being able to look up and see him like this and the vulnerability of it left him with with a surprising rush of power.
"You are becoming," Hannibal whispered in his ear, placing a soft kiss on his temple.
"I am becoming..." he spoke, voice just below a whisper.
A swift bite came to his throat and his eyes shot open wide, pain blossoming from the wound and travelling through his nerves in order to transmit the pain. He did not move away as Hannibal did this, letting the man take full control. At last he was pulled away from the window and he closed his eyes happily as the two fell back against the bed. The sense of familiarity in this was welcoming.

Chapter Text

"Why can't I ever just be called in for a stabbing?" Jack Crawford sighed heavily as he looked over the crime scene, stepping over the remains of a young woman.

Clarice followed behind him in short stride, looking around observantly unlike Crawford, who simply walks straight ahead, not attempting to take in the details of the scene just yet. The flash of cameras is something that Clarice has grown adjusted to. Originally, it had been something that had distracted her constantly from her work, but now it was a part of her environment. It had been some time since she had been sent out into the field with Jack Crawford and an odd feeling of nostalgia grew as she recalled their work together on the Buffalo Bill case. There are times where she ponders what would have happened had Will Graham worked on the case. Of course, in order for that to happen, Graham would have had to developed a sense of stability that even she herself could hardly attain.

The body of a young Camilla Edwards had been found in the forests of Wolf Trap, Virginia, near the old home of Will Graham. It was by no coincidence and it was obvious to both Starling and Crawford. However, it was quite easy to tell that it was not Hannibal Lecter committing these murders. No organs had been harvested and the kill was messy, but expertly so. It was an attempt to mimic an animal. For a moment, Clarice couldn't help but to think that Will Graham was capable of such things, but she allowed the thought to brush past her quickly.

"Was any evidence left behind?" Clarice asked, kneeling down in front of the body as Crawford continued on.

"Few finger prints and teeth marks. They're being sent to the lab now."

"What do you gather?" she asked him.

"You're not a trainee anymore, Starling. You don't have to rely on me anymore for clarification. What do you gather?"

Starling couldn't help but to smile, if only slightly, before her scowl returned as she looked over the body. "This killer is seeking something. Is lacking in something that they once previously owned. I'm assuming that the killer is male based upon the aggression in the act, however I'll have to allow DNA to confirm that before I can securely add it to the profile. Were there any signs of sexual exploitation?"

"Lab is still running some tests but there are signs of sexual assault on the victim," Crawford clarified.

Clarice nodded her head and she allowed herself to linger upon the body, kneeling down close to it. The scowl was still ever present, as it should have been. The body was mutilated, but it was done well. To someone with a less trained eye, it would look as though there as no thought or planning to the kill, while to Clarice, it was easy for her to see that each bite mark and tear in the flesh was precise and that the murder had been executed delicately.

"Do you believe it possible that Will Graham did this?" Crawford asked and it was obvious that he was hoping that she would answer no.

To his relief, she shook her head. "Will Graham has the capability to do many things while under Hannibal Lecter's influence, but I do not believe him to be capable of this. It's much too vulgar for him. He would kill the man that did this rather than kill the victim."

Crawford nodded his head and said nothing more, pursing his lips before turning away from the crime scene. He knew that Starling wouldn't follow him, she was smarter than that. He made his way back to the SUV and drove away. His thoughts were surprisingly clear as he moved through the streets, a rare occurrence for him, but a part of him could hear the white noise that buzzed around his head, just resting in a corner for now.

It wasn't until he was inside of his house, resting on the edge of his bed that the walls of his mind began to concave in. He knew that he was getting to old for this job. Much too old. He allowed his hand to travel across the sheets of the bed to rest on Bella's side. A dent still remained in the mattress from where she had once lay, in the exact position and it made him smile sadly. He wished now that he had not been so greedy with time, that he had not allowed himself to put work before her. Now that it was all he had left, he realized how hollow it was. He stood up from the bed and changed quickly, intentions to allow the world to slip away far too tempting to ignore. He slipped into his bed, crawling in on Bella's side and he inhaled deeply. Scent is the strongest sense when it comes to retaining memory and as he smelled her on the pillow, he clutched onto it tightly. A part of him feared death, while another part could not wait to join her.

Chapter Text

"H-Hannibal, no." Will stuttered against the sheets as he tried to push himself off the bed.

Hannibal chuckled loudly and he kept his hand firmly on Will's back, holding him down against the sheets. The smooth expanse of the young agents back was too tempting to ignore as Hannibal leaned down to bite lightly across the skin. One of his free hands traveled down the other's spine, before travelling back up before he gripped onto his hair, pulling him up by the roots of his curls. A hiss escaped the other's lips and he reached a hand up to grip over Hannibal's own hands, his body trembling from his own weight trying to force itself back down against the bed. Blood still stained both men and Will still struggled to get out of the cannibal's grip.

"You need to learn to enjoy the ecstasy of the kill, my dear, Will," Hannibal said, whispering softly in his ear, "As well as to enjoy the energy that is rooted into such a primal act."

Hannibal remained fully dressed, an obvious assertion of dominance over Will who lay fully bare across the sheets. He refused to allow the other to believe that there was the slightest sense of equality. He was older, more experienced, and Will was only just learning. He continued to hold the younger up by his hair, watching as his body tensed in pain before he dropped him back down. Will flipped over quickly and lunged at Hannibal, knocking the older man onto the floor and Will pinned him down.

"No, Hannibal." he said, more authoritatively.

"You still have so much to learn," Hannibal chided, flipping them back over and pinning Will to the ground.
Will looked up at him and it was the first time he had paused to look at the man after the kill. He had been carefully avoiding eye contact but now he could see it. The look of raw and animalistic urges that rested just on the cusp of Hannibal's gaze. The older man recognized the look of recognition in the other's face and he smiled, bringing Will into a rather rough kiss, pressing their bodies together. The younger responded instantly in turn and pressed against Hannibal roughly, sliding their hips together to create a synced movement of their bodies.

While Hannibal reveled in the pleasure he was feeling and the pleasure he knew Will denied from the kill, Will's mind swirled with misconceptions and illusions. Hannibal's form shift from the wendigo back to human and as Will was lifted up from the floor and moved back onto the bed, he let out screams of both pleasure and fear as he felt antlers break through the skin of his back. He clutched his head, smudging the red blood down his face. Hannibal grabbed his hands, pinning them to his side as he kissed Will once more. He held the agent immobile with one hand and moved the other down to unbuckle his belt and lower his trousers and briefs. Will's expression was that of fear and wanting and it caused a shiver of raw emotion to travel through the cannibal. He brought his fingers to Will's mouth, pressing them inside and he sucked, tasting the blood that coated Hannibal's hands and he whined loudly around them. When Hannibal was satisfied he pulled them away and began to stretch Will's body open.

"I-I..." Will gasped out, struggling against Hannibal's grip.

"Don't fight it, Will," he responded, "you're in love with your moral nature."

"I-I see..." he cried out and arched underneath Hannibal.

"What is it that you see?"

Will struggled to find the words, but it seemed that whatever he saw he lost and he struggled more as he tried to grasp onto it, letting out a frustrated yell that turned into a soft wail as Hannibal struck his prostate. The impatience was growing stronger and Hannibal pulled his fingers away, only to lift Will's legs over his shoulders, sliding into him fully, causing the younger to throw his head back. With his throat exposed, Hannibal wrapped a hand around the vulnerable flesh and pressed down, causing Will to panic and struggle once more.

"Look at me, Will." he whispered as the other closed his eyes and simply shook his head.

Hannibal only tightened his grip around his throat and Will's eyes shot open, locking with the maroon eyes and he broke one hand free, shooting it up to wrap around the cannibal's own neck. They both remained still like that for a momentary second, before Hannibal began to move, rocking inside of Will's body. Moans of pleasure fell from his lips, but he kept his hold around Hannibal's neck firm. As they both began to rock faster, their grips became tighter, squeezing the air out of one another and leaving blood spread across the expanse of their throats until finally, something snapped inside of both men as they attained their orgasm, both releasing the hold on the other and a rush of air entered their lungs as the two collapsed onto the bed.

The two lay panting in the crumpled sheets, Hannibal staring down at Will and the other staring up at the ceiling. The criminal tried to kiss Will's cheek, but he simply turned away, sliding out of the bed and moving into the bathroom. Hannibal made no attempt to follow.

 

The follow day made Will glad that the weather had taken a turn for the cool as he wrapped a scarf securely around his neck, covering up the hand shaped bruise that had formed against his pale skin. He hadn't talked to Hannibal since, unable to face what they both had done. Despite how good it had felt, it sickened Will to have commemorated a kill in such a manner. He licked over his cracking lips as he stepped outside. The crisp air of the city relaxed him and he walked slowly, taking everything in. They would be leaving soon. Since the FBI knew they were here. Hannibal was over-confident in his actions and while a part of Will hoped that he would be foolish, another part worried that he would be.

The idea of Clarice Starling being within the city was something that set Will on edge. The obvious affection Hannibal held for her was distracting. She in herself was a distraction, though Will had to admit, an admirable one. In a way, he found himself jealous of her, due to the fact that she had been bent, but not broken under what Hannibal had done. She held only a small scar. Will ran his hand over his smooth skin, then ran it down to where the one that Hannibal left rested under his clothes. She bared none of his marks.

He did not enjoy the feeling of being owned, of being controlled, and yet he knew that was what Hannibal was doing. The submission was slow and gradual, but it was happening. The fact that Hannibal had enough trust in him to let him go out on his own frightened Will, but also flattered him. He breathed heavily, his exhale visible in the cold air and he walked over to the nearest pay phone, dialing quickly, hearing the tone and then the soft voice.

"Agent Clarice Starling,"

"Do you really want to save me, Agent Starling?" Will asked, his voice sounding heavier over the phone.

A pause. "Of course I want to save you, Special Agent Graham."

"I'm not an agent anymore," he spoke in almost a growl, "Dr. Lecter has ensured that."

"Allow me to get a trace on the phone, just stay-"

"If you want to save me, accept the invitation, Miss Starling, you can find u-"

The line went dead as two fingers pressed down on the receiver. Will closed his eyes and counted to five before opening them, trailing his gaze up the arm until he met Hannibal's face. It read disappointment and anger, betrayal. Will wanted to explain, but he held himself firm. A hand gripped his arm tightly and pulled insistently. He didn't protest. The doctor hailed a taxi and roughly shoved Will inside, causing him to bang his head, leaving him slightly disoriented as Hannibal's words became mumbled to the driver. As the taxi moved, Hannibal rolled up his sleeve. Will knew what was about to happen and he tried to pull away, but the man held firm, injecting the oh so familiar drug that brought him into his lapses in time. He sank back in the seat, laughing softly as he stared out the window, before the world went black.

Chapter Text

The first thing Will noticed when he awoke was a pain erupting from his side. He tried to sit up, but it only elevated the pain. When he looked down, he saw that his side was split open, blood pouring out. His heart began pounding in his chest and he tried to move off the bed, but a voice stopped him.

"Your movement will just cause the blood to flow faster," Hannibal spoke, sitting in an armchair across from the bed in the corner of the room.

The bloodied knife was still positioned in his hand, but rather than looking tense, he simply crossed his legs and stared at Will, who offered in return, a look of horror. Instinct told him to do something in order to stop the bleeding, but he knew it was in his best interest to remain still. He waited ten agonizing minutes, blood continuing to slowly pour from his side, before Hannibal came over, disinfecting the wound and then beginning to stitch the flesh back together. Once the process was finished, Will looked up at Hannibal, saying nothing as he watched the other walk back to his chair.

"Do you want me to kill you, Will?" Hannibal asked, voice calm as he began to wipe the knife clean.

"You know that I don't, Hannibal..."

"Then why do you insist on being found?" he asked, looking up for a moment, before his eyes moved back to the stitch, "I thought you were happy."

"You wanted Agent Starling. I was giving her to you," he responded, keeping his mouth tight lipped as the wound was sealed.

"You are very aware that is not what you were doing. Your guilt is so persistent, Will Graham."

"One of ours' has to be," he responded in short.

"What do you mean we can't trace them?" the booming voice of Jack Crawford resonated throughout the room, causing a few of the newer agents who were not quite used to the man jump in their seats. Clarice Starling however remained silent.

"He phoned from a payphone, Jack, in the middle of New York. For all we know, they're gone. That was our last chance to find them in America and we messed up."

"Not we, Agent Starling."

"Don't try to pull that with me, Jack, it won't work," she responded, her temper flaring in a moment and Crawford's demeanor instantly became more relaxed.

"I apologize, Agent Starling, but this isn't a case I can just let go."

"I understand that, but right now, it's out of our jurisdiction. The only way to accomplish anything is to get Hannibal back in America, otherwise, we have no chance of finding him."

"Special Agent William Graham is a special case."

"You don't have authorization."

"Has that ever stopped you before?"

"No," she responded, "I suppose not."

"Well then, bring evening wear I suppose, after all, you were invited to dinner,"

Clarice nodded his head, her mouth closed into a tight firm line as she turned out of the office, the click of her heels following her down the hall as the other agents looked between each other in uncertainty.

Molly Foster sat alone at the kitchen table, listening to the laughter that erupted from the room as Will and his grandparents played some sort of imaginary game. It warmed her heart to hear the boy laugh. It had been a while since he had even smiled after the incident with Francis Dolarhyde. She couldn't blame the boy, but she knew who she did blame. A part of her knew it was not Will's fault, couldn't be. He had been doing what he believed would help people, not knowing that he would be bringing it home with him. Jack Crawford had tried to keep in contact with her, but she blamed him for everything. If the man had just left Will well enough alone, none of this would have happened.

The last time she had spoken to Will, he had been drunk, crying on the other end of the phone. Even the slight mention of his scars through him into a fit of hysterics. He had never been one to become so emotional and in her shock, she had hung up on him. Molly knew that she should have phoned, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Despite the love she still held for him, she knew that they were better off without him.

Molly's heart jumped as the phone rang and she raised it to her ear, before she looked down to see who was calling. With a loud scoff, she slammed the phone down as she saw the line was from Jack Crawford's office in Quantico. Again it rang. She held back her anger and answered.

"Listen, Crawford, I hold no desire to eve-" she started.

"Pardon me," a woman's voice rang out, "but this isn't Agent Crawford. I'm Agent Starling, I need to talk to you about your ex-husband."

"Are you going to try and convince me to go speak to him about coming back, because believe me, him and I-"

"If you would let me finish, I wanted to warn you, in case he ever tries to make contact with you. Special Agent Will Graham has been abducted and taken to an unknown location,"

Molly's heart stopped in her chest and she grasped a hand on the table tightly, shock resonating throughout her entire body. "W-What?"

"Your ex-husband was abducted by Dr. Hannibal Lecter, who I am sure you are familiar with."

Molly nodded stupidly, swallowing deeply. "W-What's being done to find him?"

"He is no longer on American soil, however, I have been assigned the task to try and find him. Like your husband, I shared an experience with Dr. Lecter as well. I only phoned to
tell you that if you are to receive any phone calls from him, or even Dr. Lecter, to call us immediately. Have I made myself clear, Ms. Foster?"

"Yes, Agent Starling..."

With that the line went dead and Molly put the phone down with trembling hands. She placed them under her thighs and shook her head, unable to comprehend what she had just heard. Her heart jumped once more as the phone rang and she answered slowly, licking over her lips.

"Hello?" she said, but more as a question.

"Hello, Molly," the deep voice rang out and now it was Molly's turn to sob on the other end of the line of the telephone.

Chapter Text

The rising sun was peaking through the part of the curtain, a single stream of light blinding the just parted eyes of Agent Clarice Starling. She was forced to turn her gaze away, instead choosing to focus on her alarm clock, the blinked several times over, repeating the same time. She sat up quickly, hair flicking out in front of her face as she rushed into the hotel bathroom. A quick brush over teeth and hair and she was back, stripped bare as she struggled to slip into her bra, underwear, and eventually her suit. No fool into thinking being well put together didn't have it's own reward in the end.

There was an edge to playing a game and playing it well, she was no naive trainee anymore and as she looked in the mirror for the final time, she ran a hand over her cheek where the gun powder still lay embedded in her flesh. All held some physical memory.
Her phone rang and she reached for it quickly, tripping slightly across the floor as she grasped it, answering with heavy breaths, "Hello?" she asked, agitation evident in the tone of her voice.

"No need to sound so angry, Agent Starling," Will Graham's voice came over the phone and Clarice forced herself to keep calm.

"I suppose I should ask how you found the number,"

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know," was his response.

She nodded to herself. "Is Hannibal..."

"Obvious questions waste time."

"What do you want, Special Agent Graham?"

"Don't call me that," he said, voice low. "You do understand your situation, don't you, Clarice?"

"I suppose I'm not entirely sure. Enlighten me, Will."

"I know what you're doing. We're not friends, Agent Starling. I don't appreciate you pretending that you do."

"Apologies." Clarice spoke, keeping her voice steady.

"He's obsessed with you," Will almost seemed like he was seething.

"You almost sound jealous."

"It was about time I began to develop the rest of the sins."

"And what other sins have you developed, Graham?"

"Well, Starling, " his voice was rough and had an edge, "Lust and pride take on the head. Envy is building. Wrath. Now wrath has always been blooming."

"Don't expect me to believe you, Graham. It is quite clear whom Dr. Lecter's attentions are focused on."

"He isn't single focused."

"Is there a purpose to this call, because momentarily the tracking on this line will begin."

A cruel laugh from the end of the phone. "That dinner invitation will expire soon. If he contacts you again, I wouldn't reject him."

"What exactly do you want from me? To stay away, or to come closer?"

Another laugh. "Both."

Hannibal walked back into the flat, watching how the light cascaded through the windows of the Paris flat, illuminating the open concept of the building. In the far corner rested the bedroom, left open for him to see always. It had been advertised as an apartment for lovers and normally, it would not have appealed to him, except for the fact that he knew stripping Will of his privacy would offer more opportunity for dependency. While Will normally acted as though he wished to stay with him, he had odd moments of rebellion.

He watched as the figure on the bed stirred slightly and turned around, revealing the clean shaven Will Graham. He placed down the shopping on the kitchen table, walking through the flat, the sun bouncing off the white walls and sheets, illuminating the room entirely and making Will's dark hair stand out between everything else. He walked over the bed and he pulled back the sheets, revealing the bare chest of the younger man. His eyes trailed over the raised skin of Will's scar, of his initial mark and his fingers reached out to run over it, smiling fondly at the mark. He felt an intake of breath and when he allowed his gaze to travel back to Will's face, the man was staring at him intently.

"I talked to Starling again." Will said immediately, feeling no reason to lie.

Hannibal remained stoic, looking at him intently. "What did she have to say?"

"Nothing to me, but I spoke to her."

"The result?"

"You could leave her out of this, Hannibal."

"I'm afraid we're past that point now, dear Will. If only you had a chance to meet her. If you had both been at the academy together. I believe you two would have gotten along quite well."

"How would you know?" Will asked, his voice taking on a rather angry tone.

Instantly Hannibal's hand threaded into his hair, pulling his head back sharply. "Perhaps you forget how much more I know than you, dear Will. For example, I know that the two of you, while coming from separate places, share the same low class southern trash lifestyle that you have struggled so hard to hide."

Will winced at the mention, "Stop it."

Hannibal chuckled and his voice changed to match the accent found in Will's Louisiana, "So very hard to fight who we are," he said and his voice shifted back, "The two of you are rubes that fight so hard to change into something you're not."

Will couldn't help but to laugh slightly, glaring at him, "Don't you know that you cannot control what comes out of the chrysalis?"

Hannibal froze at that, before a smile of his own formed across his lips. He pulled away from Will, standing up and looming over the other, who simply lied back against the sheets. It wasn't submission, simply a resolution for now. He took another step back and turned around, back to the kitchen, putting the food away silently. Only moments later, he heard the soft padded footsteps.

"Invite her again for dinner. I doubt she'll say no." Will simply said, before moving towards the table, picking up and apple from the bowl in the centre and taking a large bite of it's flesh.

The last person Jack Crawford expected to find in his office come the Monday morning was Molly Foster. He recognized her instantly, how could he not remember someone who detested him so much. He couldn't deny the guilt he felt towards the end of her marriage with Will. The involvement in the Tooth Fairy case had driven the two completely apart. Tears were still on her cheeks and he froze as he looked at her.

"Molly, are you..."

"I know what's happened with Will," she whispered quietly and covered her mouth, "I should have helped him..."

Crawford sat down quickly, and she reached out to grab onto his hands, in a shocking moment of instability. "What happened, Molly?"

"A-An agent...Sterling, or something...she called me and told me what happened to Will. Not a moment after my phone rang again. She told me he would try to contact..."

"Will phoned you?" Jack asked, excited for a moment that perhaps the call could be pinpointed.

"N-No...God, no, I wish it had been him." Molly said, fresh tears falling from her cheeks.

Crawford froze for a moment and he knew that he was going to regret asking, "Who phoned you, Molly?"

She looked up at him and he felt her hands shaking. "I-It was him...Lecter. He was non-threatening, softly spoken and kind. All he told me was that he had stolen what I had
lost...I knew I should have phoned earlier but I was so scared, Jack. For me, for my son and for Will. He won't..." she drifted into a fearful silence.

"Will is in no danger with Hannibal Lecter, for now..." he responded. "I'll place you under protective custody, for safety measures."

"You're going to find him, aren't you?" Molly asked. "Agent Sterling said you would."

"Agent Starling and right now, Molly, I'm not sure whether finding him would be the best thing for him."

"What do you mean?" she asked, sounding fearful again.

"If we get to close, Hannibal won't risk being caught. He won't hesitate to kill Will Graham."

Chapter Text

"I can't do it," Will said as he shook his head, the knife clattering to the ground and trembling hands grasping unruly curls as he hunched over, feeling an overpowering nausea fill him.
The man who had been under him crawled away quickly, unknowingly heading towards a wall and allowing Hannibal the advantage of finishing Will's job quickly, before the pig could even think about alerting another. He turned to face the younger quickly and before he could say anything, Will was trying to balance himself as he walked over to Hannibal, crashing against him.

It knocked them both off balance for a moment as Will used the taller for support, but he couldn't keep his legs straight. Hannibal was aware of the fact of how this was going to go. It was all about seeing how far he could push Will. It was easy for him to kill the last two simply for the fact that he knew nothing about them other than the fact that they were pigs. However, as soon as there was any mention of a family, it haltered Will in his progress. The man's empathy, while a strength was also becoming a flaw while the other was beginning to see for the victim's. It was important to begin to encourage Will to no longer view them as victims. Nevertheless, his arms wrapped around Will tightly while the other sunk into him and trembled. He leaned down, his lips pressed against the empath's ear.
"It's just meat, Will,"

"Don't-" he tried to start, but Hannibal hushed him.

Will stared up at the other, looking at him worriedly and he turned his gaze away. There was a gasp from the entryway and the younger turned instantly to see a woman standing at the door, taking in the sight of her murdered husband lying against the wall. His eyes widened and she stared at him, before running away quickly through the house. Hannibal did not hesitate, pushing Will forward quickly, who seemed to stumble for a moment, fear being replaced quickly by a look of determination as he sprinted down the hall. Hannibal waited in the room and he only heard silence before a small scream tore through the air and the silence returned. Small footsteps padded up the stairs and Will stood their, panting heavily. Hannibal smiled warmly. The trembling in his hand continued and he brought a hand up to his mouth, unintentionally smearing blood over his lips.

"I-I had to...She would have..." he swallowed nervously and looked around, tears building for a moment before being pushed back. "We would have been separated had she gotten away."

Will closed his eyes, refusing to see the smile that was etched across Hannibal's face.

 

Will was aware of what had happened to his step-father. His mother had sat him down one night, late in the evening. She looked tired, more so than she did when she had explained to him that Will Graham's job had finally caught up with him. Having been so young at the time of his mother's marriage, he had understood in a limited sense the dangers of working for the FBI, but he had seen his step-father as a hero. Until the work had come home. He remembers how scared he was when the killer- his name was Francis Dolarhyde, his mother had told him- had broken into their house. The cut that ran across all of his step-father's face had left him with nightmares. It must have given his mom nightmares as well, or she would not have left him. Will, however, had never heard of Dr. Hannibal Lecter until his mother had come in to tell him what had happened to Will Graham and he could tell that she was fighting back tears. All she would tell him was that he was a bad man.

Curiousity was a powerful force to deal with. In the middle of the night, while his mom tossed and turned, he was able to do enough research on Dr. Hannibal Lecter that ensured that he would never be able to sleep restfully again. He left the computer monitor on as he crawled into bed with his mother and cried, while she simply held him and kissed the top of his head, knowing that she could do nothing else to comfort her son if he knew the truth.

Two weeks had gone by and no information had fallen upon the ears of Molly or Will Foster. The two had traveled back to the old house in Marathon and Will stood on the beach, skipping stones across the water. Some were able to hop over the waves. Others were swallowed entirely into the waves and consumed by the ocean. The phone rings and Molly feels her heart stop. Nobody lives in the house anymore. Not since she had moved back in with her parents. Will turned back to look at her and she simply smiled and ran inside, trying to convince her son that she is not afraid, that everything is going as expected. She approached the phone and let out a heavy breath before she picked up the receiver and held it up to her ear.

"H-Hello?" she spoke, swallowing thickly as she noticed the tremble in her voice.

"Molly Foster-Graham, or perhaps the name has the registry finally changed that name now?"

A chill made it way down Molly's spine and she had to stop a sob from forcing its way out of her throat in that very moment. "Dr. Lecter."

"Your Will is fine, dear Molly, but I suppose he is not your Will anymore, we both saw to that, you see,"

Molly fumbled as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, mashing the buttons as she tried to find Crawford in her contacts, hitting the call button before she spoke again, "He isn't your Will either. He never was."

"I can assure you that he always was, and will be for some time now. You see, the FBI ensured his place with me for some time, but of course you won't be able to see that. You were never around long enough, no, not until after me."

Molly caught the sob in her throat as he spoke, hearing the faint echo of Crawford on the other line. Will had always told her to be brave, not to show any fear. She looked down at the phone, holding the landline away from her face as she picked up the cellphone, "Jack, it's Molly. I'm in the old house. Lecter is on the line," she spoke, keeping her voice calm before she hung up.

She brought the landline back up to her ear and she could hear the annoying beeping that signaled that Lecter had ended the call. She breathed heavily, tears finally spilling out of her eyes as she held the phone tight in her hands and then slammed it back down on the receiver. The sob she had been holding in finally fell from her lips as she fell back against the wall and slid down it. She felt Will wrap his arms around her and she pulled him close, cradling him to her chest.

Jack Crawford ran a hand over his face and he saw the golden band, reminding him of his promise. He pulled his hand away from his face and ran a finger over the band. He thought about Bella, having to watch her die. She had always told him that his job would kill him. He always believed her and had never thought that she would go before him. She had been so beautiful and she would have hated him for what he was allowing to happen to Will Graham and for what he would be allowing to happen to Agent Starling. Hannibal Lecter phoning Molly Foster had seemed like a stroke of luck. In an act of jealousy, or perhaps possession, he had hoped that the other had finally made a mistake and perhaps he could right every wrong that he had ever done. He, again, underestimated Lecter. To think that the man would allow himself to be traced. He was a fool. He picked up the glass of scotch, swirled it around, before downing it. He ran his finger over his wedding band before he walked into his bedroom, content to forget the day for only a few short hours.

 

Clarice stood in front of the mirror in her hotel bathroom as she slid the diamond stud into her ear, before she lowered her hand. Her hair was tied up and pulled tight into a bun on the top of her head, a red band wrapped around it to keep her hair in place. She placed the matching diamond necklace around her throat and swallowed nervously. The package had arrived for her when she had returned to the hotel that evening, awaiting her at the front desk. It did not say who it was from, but the woman at the counter seemed to be entranced by the man who had dropped it off. There was no need for a name. It was blatantly obvious.

As she approached the full length mirror, the entirety of the outfit came together as she took in the red evening gown. A slit made its way up the outside of her thigh, but stopped before it would become distasteful. Everything matched perfectly and the sizing was perfect. A chill moved through her at the thought, but she knew what was expected of her. She left her hotel room, moving briskly out of the lobby and keeping her head lowered down.

The walk to restaurant was quick, perhaps taking only five minutes. She knew this was not randomly chosen. It was considerate, given the fact that she was wearing heels. She opened the door to the restaurant and it was empty. Entirely so. All tables cleared and moved out of the way except for a single solitary one. She walked closer to it, steps slow, but steady. She hung her bag over the side of the chair and she sat down. Condensation rolled down the edge of the champagne glass. It was still cold. She sat back, eyes flicking down to the candle and watching the flame move back and forth. A cold wind traveled up her back and over her shoulders, causing her to tense and the flame to flicker. She drew in a deep breath and waited.

Chapter Text

“He seems to have taken a liking to your company, despite the fact that he already has someone to occupy his time,” Will spoke as he held his fork up to his lip, a piece of rather rare steak on the end of it.

Clarice watched as a trickle of blood pooled in the corner of his lip and before it could drip down, he had raised his serviette up to his mouth and dabbed lightly. He swallowed his food and offered Clarice a pleasant smile, although something else rested in his eyes, but nevertheless, she returned the smile. She began to cut into her meat as well, watching as blood oozed from it and spread across the plate. She raised it to her lips, taking a small bite and she stared up at him through her lashes.

“I expected Hannibal, when I came here tonight. Not that I am not pleased. I have always wanted to become acquainted with you. Rumours of you spread through the Academy a great deal when I was there. You were rather infamous for some time. I must admit that I was rather disappointed that I would not be a student under you. I thought you could offer up something worth learning.”

“Hannibal does not know I am here, obviously you understand why. If I am to be honest, I held no desire to know you until Hannibal became interested in you. Otherwise you were of little consequence to me. I did keep up with your work during the Buffalo Bill case. I must admit, I was impressed. Not just with your completion of the case, but how you managed to even sway Hannibal. Was it nice, being in control of someone like him?” Will asked, a hint of derision coming through his voice.

“I must admit that I never once felt in control. I did something that you never quite seemed quite capable of. I was polite, Mr. Graham, and he respected that. He tried to drive me away, but I believe the fact that I kept coming back intrigued him.”

“I believe he felt bad for you. I can recall his anger as he recounted his first meeting with you. Not only his anger towards the fact that the good Dr. Chilton tried so desperately to sway you towards a bed, but that an inmate by the name of Miggs, decided it would be appropriate to sling vulgar words towards you as well as to throw some-Oh, what was it again, Agent Starling?”

“Hannibal would consider your behaviour very rude right now, Mr. Graham.” Clarice spoke, smile fading and her lips pressed into a tight line.

“Hannibal isn’t here, is he?” Will smiled, taking another bite before placing his knife and fork on the plate, indicating that he was done with his meal. “I understand why he likes you, Agent Starling. A part of me wonders if in another life, we would have found only each other and have never met him.”

Clarice’s smile came back at the thought of that. “I believe you would have become bored of me rather quickly. It seems that your taste are singular to that which will cause you harm. Along with that, you feel too much guilt to be associated with someone like me. Someone who would not allow you to hide from what you feel. From your nature.”

“You know I settled down with my wife Molly and my stepson. I was…content.” Will spoke simply, taking a sip of the champagne.

Clarice put her cutlery down on her plate and dabbed her lips gently, before looking back up at Will. “Content does not mean happy. Tell me, are you content with Hannibal?”
Will laughed. “There is no word to describe my feelings towards being with Hannibal. He is cruel and yet he treats me better than I was ever treated by some of my peers in the FBI. I know what he’s after and he doesn’t pretend to use me for some sort of moral high ground. I know what he wants from me, what he expects and somehow that makes things easier for me.”

“There have been more murders, though we’ve tried our damn best to keep it out of the papers. I think that this killer likes you, Mr. Graham, and would love to get to know you better.”

“You’ve kept it out of the papers because you didn’t know what Hannibal would do for me.”

“You can’t tell me I’m wrong in believing him to be a possessive man.”

“He has his teacup back together. Though he isn’t beyond experimenting. He would use me as bait, keep me safe, but still use me as he could.”

“He left a body of a young girl near your home in Wolf Trap. She was raped and killed slowly, very slowly. All the blood was drained out of her so that she would be dry when we found her. But, she was torn to shreds, ripped apart as if by some kind of animal. Tell me, Will, do you miss your dogs?”

She watched as Will visibly flinched. “Of course I do. Tell me more about this killer.”

“There is not much to tell. He’s searching for you, though, that much I can tell you. He’s probably smitten with the idea of you. I wonder what Hannibal will say, when you tell him.”

“Probably something that shows his jealousy. Much like when he asked you about whether or not you performed fellatio on Jack Crawford.”

This time it was Clarice’s turn to cringe. “Once more I must tell you how incredibly rude that was. How Hannibal puts up with you I cannot imagine.”

“He does not need to put up with me. I believe there is some part of him that enjoys that I haven’t followed into a willing obedience.” Will spoke, flicking his wrist over so that he could look at his watch. “The man himself will be expecting me very soon, Agent Starling. I do hope that you will grace our table someday. I am sure that we will have a lot to talk about.”

Clarice smiled and stood up, grabbing her purse and clutching it in her hands. “I thank you, Mr. Graham, for dinner. Give my regards to Hannibal and please assure yourself that I have no plans of telling Crawford about this. This will be a secret between two people who have both been wronged by the FBI.”

She saw the smile that graced Will’s face and he walked up to her, placing his lips against her warm cheek. It surprised her, not having expected it, but she accepted it and before he could pull away, she turned her face towards him and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Good night, Mr. Graham.” She spoke clearly, turning around and walking towards the door, pulling it open and she heard the bell ring.

“Good night, Clarice,”

 

Will slipped through the door quietly, kicking off his shoes and placing them in the closet quietly. He slid his coat off of his shoulders and put it away, before walking into the sitting room. He could hear music echoing off the walls, though the rooms were so dark, except for a few flickering lights. He continued walking until he saw the room filled with candles and Hannibal sitting amongst it all, sipping his wine, savouring it. He saw Hannibal raise his head and inhale the air and he didn’t even need to look at the man to know that he was smiling.

“Tell me, how was Clarice Starling? I trust that she was well.”

“Well enough. She enquired after you.” Will spoke as he moved into the kitchen, preparing to brew a pot of coffee for himself. He could hear Hannibal’s footsteps but didn’t bother to turn around.

He felt a hand being placed on his shoulder and he simply sighed heavily. He placed the pot of coffee down and turned around to face him. He held firm and maintained eye contact, even though his mind was screaming at him to look away.

“I’m not going to apologize for going behind your back to speak to her. Besides, I would have thought you would be excited. You can toss me aside once you have her,” Will spoke, moving back to start the brewing of his pot, before sliding away from the counter to move up to his bedroom.

Hannibal’s hand grabbed onto his upper arm and spun him back around, but he shrugged out of the hold as soon as he could. A small smile formed on Hannibal’s lips and he raised a hand up to rest on the side of Will’s face, the palm of his hand cupping just under his chin.

“Dear boy, when will you learn that you are anything but replaceable?”

“The moment you prove it to be the truth.”

Hannibal kept his gaze locked on Will’s and he gripped his face tightly in his hand, pulling him closer. Will didn’t fight, stepping closer and he raised a brow at him, as if challenging Hannibal to do something, anything. The man leaned closer, smile still ever present on his face, but he simply waited. Will glared at him, but Hannibal only kept up the smile. He held eye contact for a while, before moving to pull away. The man kept him in place and Will tried to pull away, but the grip on his face only tightened. The younger let out a noise of discontent, but he settled, leaning forward to press a simple and chaste kiss onto his lips.

Hannibal pulled his hand away instantly and he moved to press closer to Will, but the younger pulled away, turning back around in order to run upstairs. Truly, he had no motive for going upstairs. He thought maybe he would grab his book, before heading downstairs again for his coffee. Before he could even shut his door, he felt himself being pulled back and pushed against the wall. He let out a grunt as his head smacked against it and he looked at Hannibal slightly disoriented.

“That was rude…” Will mumbled, looking at him, “Now you’ll have to eat yourself.”

Hannibal let out a soft chuckle and gripped on tightly to Will’s hips and he pressed against the younger man, before catching him in another kiss, although, it was much softer than Will expected it to be. Usually the older man was much more rough in his actions and a part of Will knew that it was easier to pretend that it was just sex that way. With the gentle kisses, it felt too personal. He tried to make it rougher, to increase the pace in some form. He pressed up against Hannibal fully, but he was pushed away, the distance between them only slight, but still there.

“Don’t…” Will whispered quietly, but Hannibal simply silenced him again with another kiss.

He was pulled forward slightly and dragged away from his bedroom, before being led into Hannibal’s own room. They had kept themselves separate, wanting to respect each other’s privacy, but many a times, Will ended up in Hannibal’s bed. A hand came up to run a hand over his cheek, before he was slowly lowered down onto the bed. Will closed his eyes, willing himself away somewhere else, but the press of Hannibal’s lips, soft and gentle, over the expanse of his skin was too much of a distraction.

“Don’t do this to me, Hannibal…” he breathed out, eyes opening to stare up at the ceiling, following the pattern on the tin to keep his mind busy.

“Enforcing a conclusion that your mind has already come to?” Hannibal asked, raising his head up to peer down at Will, who turned his head away.

Will clenched his jaw and he avoided eye contact still, before he felt Hannibal’s lips return to the flesh of his neck and he wished that instead of light kisses he would feel the force and pain of a bite. Feel the blood dripping down his neck. Instead it remained feather light and he could feel himself submitting to it; this pleasant feeling of loving adoration.
The older man moved his lips down until the obstacle of clothing got in the way. Very slowly he began to work the buttons of Will’s shirt open and he pressed a kiss to each exposed part of his body. He could hear the other trying to control his breathing, forcing himself to remain as unresponsive as ever. It took Hannibal quite by surprise when the younger pushed him away and moved back against the headboard.

“I want you to stop pretending that this is anything more than what we both know it to be.” Will spoke, but his voice became quiet, not much fight left in it.

Hannibal moved forward again and Will tried to back away, before he felt a soft kiss being pressed to his lips. Once more, he tried to make it rough, violent. He fisted his hands in the older man’s hair and pressed their bodies together. He pulled one hand out of the silver blonde strands of hair and he moved it down to pull apart Hannibal’s belt, shoving his hand down into his trousers and under his briefs to grasp onto his cock. Instantly a hand snatches onto his wrist and pulls it away. Hannibal’s gaze is intense and Will hopes that perhaps now, the other will finally just give into him. Instead, he raises Will’s hand and presses a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist, before pushing him down softly on the bed once more. His wrist was still being held in a firm grip, and his hand still held tight in Hannibal’s hair, but neither moved. They held each other’s gaze, and it was Will who moved first. He arched his neck, bringing his face closer to Hannibal’s and he kissed him gently, his lips just brushing over the other’s as he tried to arch closer.

Hannibal lowered his own head down slowly, pressing his lips more firmly against Will’s, but still he continued to be gentle. He ran his hands lightly down the sides of the younger man’s body and pulled him close so that there was no distance between them. He could feel every tremor of Will’s body and as he moved his hand down to push away his trousers, he could feel the fight in the younger slip away as he let each touch wash over him gently.

Will was allowing every feeling to wash over him and his eyes fell shut this time in bliss rather than in an attempt to shield himself away from what he was feeling. Hannibal’s hands ran over the skin of his inner thigh and he felt his breath catch in his throat and he arched closer to the touch. The man’s lips trailed down over his chest, while he pulled down the last remaining article of clothing between them. Slowly, he moved further down Will’s body and he placed his lips on the tip of Will’s cock, causing the younger to arch his back and thrust his hips upwards. Hannibal’s hands came to rest on them, holding Will down gently. A moan fell from his throat as Hannibal took him deeper into his mouth and he found his hand running through the man’s hair as his entire body trembled under the attention of Hannibal’s mouth. The pleasure seemed to drag on endlessly as Hannibal gave and then took away, pushing Will to the edge and back, causing various sounds to spill out of mouth and echo across the room. Finally, Will felt his orgasm washing over him and Hannibal allowed it to happen and a hoarse cry fell from Will’s lips as his release rushed over him.

He was left dazed for several moments, his breathing was heavy and his eyes remained shut. He felt too exhausted to bother opening them. He heard Hannibal leave for a few moments and already he could feel himself drifting off to sleep. He was jolted awake by the dip in the bed and the arms that encircled him. He twisted his neck around and leaned in to kiss Hannibal softly. He pulled back, eyes still shut and he allowed himself to fall into a blissful sleep.