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Chapter Text

"--in which we worked closely with the media to flush out Dolarhyde..." Alana looked down at her watch and stepped behind the podium. "Okay, I want to remind everyone before you go that tomorrow is the last day to select your killer of choice for your paper. Please inform by word of mouth or email which you decided on, class dismissed, thank you."

"Dr. Bloom? I wanted to ask about the paper...?" A woman approached her desk as the rest were filing out, her red hair tied back into a tight pony tail. She had pretty blue eyes and an expression that told Alana she was about to ask him something that Alana might not want to be asked.

"What is it, Starling?" She gathered her papers into her bag, tidying up the desk.

"I was wondering if I could do my paper on Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

Alana looked up at the young trainee, her head tilting. "... You can do your paper on whoever you wish, Starling, that's the point of the project."

Starling hesitated, then pushed on. "You're still friends with Will Graham aren't you?"

"Are you asking me if you can interview Will Graham as a victim of Dr. Lecter?"

"Yes. I understand that he doesn't talk on the subject often and I was hoping that perhaps you could convince him to speak with me..?" Starling's hands were closed into fists at her side.

"For the good of your paper." Alana balanced a hand on her hip, looking at the young woman. "Are you going to interview me as well, or do you not want to involve your teacher on the inner workings of your school work before you hand it in?"

Starling was clearly starting to get a little flustered. She looked a little torn. Alana tilted her head. "Starling, why did you choose Dr. Lecter as the subject of your paper?"

The young woman bucked up nicely under the scrutiny, her chin lifting and a little determined look touching her eyes. "He's the most notorious serial killer at large right now. I'm interested in the case. Maybe a fresh perspective is what's needed to--"

"Jack Crawford put you up to this didn't he?"

Starling's teeth clicked together from how fast she shut her mouth. Her cheeks were a little pink but her expression didn't change. "Yes, ma'am but that's not to say I'm not interested in the case."

Alana gave her a smile and reached out to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I appreciate the honesty. Let me talk to Jack and I'll get back to you on whether I feel its appropriate for you to do a paper on Dr. Lecter."

She gathered the rest of her things and strode out of the classroom. Starling accompanied her for some of the way and Alana spoke briefly about being impressed with Starling's past work before they separated. Alana felt frustrated. This was such a backhanded way of getting to Will.

When she arrived at Jack's office she didn't even wait for him to finish whatever meeting he was in. She pulled open the door and strode inside. "Jack, can we talk?"

Jack paused mid conversation, then leaned forward, motioning for Zeller to go ahead and step out. "What can I help you with, Dr. Bloom?"

"She's only in her second year of FBI training and you're putting her on the Lecter case?"

"I'm not putting her on any case. I suggested a topic for her paper, that just happened to be for your class and she agreed to it. She seemed very interested in it."

Alana pressed her hands onto the desk. "I'm not stupid, Jack. I know what you're doing. Will retired. He got out of this all and made a life for himself that doesn't involve murders of the week."

Jack tapped his fingers onto the desk. "He's the last connection we have to Hannibal Lecter, who may I remind you is still at large. I need him on this case, I need him in the game."

"You have an entire bureau full of investigators that are familiar with this case and an academy full of bright young minds that are looking for a chance to be heroes. You can find Lecter without Will Graham."

"Will Graham never told us everything. He spent months under Lecter's roof and he told us maybe a fraction of what happened."

Alana stood up straight, her hands gripping onto her hips as she tried to keep her voice down. "You want to dig up old wounds because you think he didn't tell us everything? That's all? He was held against his will, tortured, raped. He shouldn't have to rehash everything, Jack."

He seemed unpertubed by her anger. "He said himself that in the last day Lecter was sloppy, that he was sloppy about everything. How could a man that kept so many secrets so well, a man that's been on the run from us for years now, have been completely undone for the sake of a towel, Alana?"

"I don't know, Jack! I don't!" Her plan to not yell wasn't working. "You can't do this to him, Jack, you can't. He's healthy, he's happy, he's moved on."

"I'm trying to save lives here, Alana. We know of seven victims that have a possible link to Lecter since he escaped, who knows how many more. We can't just overlook that for the sake of Will's happiness. This is life or death." He stood, his forefinger driving down onto the desk. "Now you have the option of helping and making this work or I'm going to have to go around you and do it myself."

Alana shook her head. "I can't believe you were going to disguise this as a term paper. I can't believe you were going to have a second year student barrel in and violate Will's privacy under the pretense of learning, how dare you Jack."

"Would you rather go yourself? The option is on the table. We aren't getting any closer to catching Lecter by standing here and arguing over the morality of my decisions."

She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "This is why Molly doesn't allow you over for dinner, Jack."

Jack sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'm not overly concerned with how many dinner invitations I get from his wife."

"I don't bring up Lecter to Will. Ever. You're asking me to step over that line for you." Alana pointed at him. "You're asking me to violate a trust."

"Take Starling with you, she's a sharp mind. She can be your pretense if you don't want it to be out of the blue."

Alana shook her head sharply. "No, Jack. No. I'm not ambushing him with a student. That's manipulative and wrong and--"

"If you take an agent with you he might not talk."

"I'm not taking an agent to his home, Jack! I'm not taking a student either! I'll go. I'll try to talk to him. What are you looking for out of him? Every painful memory he can muster up the strength to talk about?"

Jack rested his hands on the desk,lowering his head. "... I want him back on the case."

"Don't ask me to ask him that." Alana could feel her anger starting to spike again. "He retired, Jack. He got out of this business, he doesn't even teach any more. He's happy where he is, you can't just rip that away from him because you're failing at doing your own damn job!"

"If you don't ask him then its going to be me at his door asking him. I'd like there to be a chance of him actually saying yes, so if you would please just go talk to him, you can say on my behalf and convince him to come back on board because I need him in the saddle for this one."

Alana glared. She felt her breathing catch her throat and she felt angry. So angry. She couldn't express how angry she was. She looked down at Jack's desk and whapped his name plate down to the floor. She turned away and stormed out of the office, her hand lifting to press against her mouth.

It was too much to ask. Will never asked about the case, never asked how it was doing, how close they were. Especially not how many victims. Whenever Alana had been present at the same time as Jack, Molly would cut him off. She would find something else to talk about, deviate it to the dogs. Will would follow the distraction. Eventually Jack wasn't invited any more.

It was cruel to bring this up to him after so many years. It was wrong. She knew if she didn't do it Jack would catch Will at his home, his sanctuary and bring it up. He would talk over Molly and break through the shield she represented to get to Will and bring it all back to his doorstep.

Alana knew what she'd just been blackmailed into doing and she hated herself for it.

Chapter Text

The dogs went tearing out into the yard, all but one. Farah trotted out off the porch but didn't wander far into the yard. She sniffed around, then trotted out of the way as Willy stepped off the porch after the rest of the dogs.

"Moose! Baby! Wait up!" He paused and turned, whistling. "Farah, come on!"

Farah perked her ears up, but didn't follow. She never did. She turned and trotted back up onto the porch, approaching the second person that had come out of the house.

Will leaned to pet the top of her head, smiling. That big old happy face always made him smile. He stepped off the porch to head towards the mail box, the dog following at a trot behind him. He opened the little box and pulled out the letters as Willy came running over for him.

"Did one come?"

Will fished out the postcard, one of many that had come over the years. "Pin it on the wall with the rest. Have you started your homework?"

Willy groaned, turning to motion at the dogs that had all started crowding around their legs. "I was taking the dogs out, I haven't had time to do homework yet!"

"You've been home for forty five min--"

"Is that Miss Alana?"

Will turned, looking at the hybrid car pulling into the gravel driveway. He frowned. "Here, go inside, Willy."

Willy was a little reluctant but he took the postcard and started back towards the house. The dogs followed him, all but Farah. She was swishing her tail, watching the car come to a stop. Then the excitement hit when the woman climbed from the car and she ran towards Alana, sniffing up and down her legs.

"Hi, sweetheart, I've missed you too." Alana rubbed her head, having to walk through her a little to get towards Will. "Will, how are you?"

Will's brow furrowed, hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "Um.. I'm fine, good actually. What are you doing here? Its a little unusual to see you here..."

The word uninvited hung between them. The invitations were fewer and further in between but they were still there, though she'd never dropped by uninvited before. The two of them had never been able to reconnect quite the same way. It was just natural drifting between two people.

"I'm sorry for coming here unexpectedly." Alana crossed her arms loosely over her chest, falling in step beside him as he started back towards his house.

Will tipped his head towards the house. "Its fine, you're welcome to drop by."

He was just being nice. She could sense it. The reason though was something she wasn't sure of until she looked towards the house. Molly was peering out the window at them, frowning slightly. The boy must have told his mother that she was here. It would seem strange if Will turned her away when she'd just arrived.

He held the door for Alana and Farah, before taking the mail to the dining room. The other dogs were busy surrounding Alana and bombarding her with affection. Molly approached Will first, resting her hand on his arm.

"Will, what is she doing here?"

"I don't know, I haven't asked yet." He slid his glasses onto his face to flip through the rest of the mail.

Molly gave his arm a squeeze. "Are you okay?"

Will looked up at her. Molly reached up and adjusted his glasses a little better on his face. He gave her a small smile then leaned in to kiss her gently. "I'm fine."

He stepped away from his wife, approaching Alana now that he was in the sanctuary that was his home. "How have you been? We haven't talked in awhile. Come sit down in the living room."

Alana followed him and sat down on the couch, immediately surrounded by the dogs. There was only one dog different from those years ago and the pack mentality meant they were all interested in her regardless. Farah, on the other hand, sat leaning against Will's legs.

"I've been well, considering. How have you been?"

"Alana, why are you here?" He decided that was enough small talk.

She crossed her legs and leaned back on the couch. She stared at her knee for a long moment, gathering her words. "I have to be honest with you, Will... I don't entirely want to be here, not for the reasons why I was sent here."

Will sat down in the chair, leaning forward with elbows on knees, hands stroking Farah's head. "Did Jack send you here?"

"Yes." Alana laced her fingers together, resting her hands in her lap. "He wanted me to talk to you about possibly coming back to the FBI."

"Absolutely not." Molly interrupted, stopping in the door way. She was holding two beers, one for the guest. "I know enough about Jack and their history together to know that isn't what's best for Will."

Will turned, looking up at Molly. He reached for one of the bottles and took it, turning to pass it to Alana. "Molly, its okay."

"No, its not. I don't think this is a conversation that needs time wasted on it"

Alana shifted, pressing her hands into the couch to start standing. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let Jack blackmail me into coming here, I didn't even want to bring this up to you."

Will held up his hands, eyes closing. "Okay, stop. Both of you. Stop. I'm not that fragile. I can stand to hear what this is probably about. Molly, let me talk to Alana alone, please?"

Molly set Will's bottle onto the coffee table. "I'll get dinner started."

He picked up the bottle and cracked it open, taking a long few swigs before letting out a breath. "Why does Jack want me to come back to the FBI?"

Alana sipped her own bottle, resisting her own urge to gulp down mouthfuls. "Well, I think you know what the answer to that is."

"Hannibal Lecter." Will didn't meet her eyes, instead staring at the top of Farah's head. She'd laid down, content to be with her person. The other dogs had scattered.

"I told Jack it was a bad idea. He was actually going to send a trainee doing a research paper on Lecter to backdoor you into talking about what happened." She shook her head. "I guess he thought hearing about it again would attract you back to the case."

Will had that distant, almost vacant look in his eyes. He was remembering the weight of a chain around his neck. "How many has Lecter killed since he vanished?"

Alana hesitated, rolling the bottle between her hands. "I don't think knowing that information is really what's best for you."

"Can I choose what's best for me?" Will looked up at her, meeting her eyes briefly but he looked away from them almost as soon as he made the eye contact. "How many has he killed?"

"Jack suspects seven murders to be possibly linked to Lecter, but its hard to say. He was always very good at hiding the bodies."

Alana had a slightly green look to her at the memory of exactly how Lecter hid some of his bodies. Will was sure they all felt a little sick whenever they remembered those posh meals served up by Dr. Lecter. He was sure they would all think him strange for not feeling sick at all.

"Are there any leads? I haven't exactly heard any breaking news..."

"As far as I know, the last lead went dead in Russia."

Will closed his eyes, shaking his head. Leave it to Jack to get himself stuck in the snow. "I have to talk to Molly..."

Alana reached out immediately, laying her hand on Will's wrist. "Will, no. You're not obligated to do this. I didn't come here to try and convince you of anything, I came here because Jack would have come himself if I didn't."

She leaned forward, trying to catch Will's eyes. "You don't need this in your life again, Will."

Will found it hard to look at anything but the floor. Seven people was a lot to have linked to Lecter. There was obviously more. Those seven might not have anything to do with Lecter but Will knew there were other bodies. A hunter wouldn't cut out that much of their diet.

"Tell Jack I'll give him a call with my decision."

Alana visibly wilted at his words. She knew telling Will about the case would make him think about it. She didn't want him to think about it, she didn't want it anywhere near his mind. Not after so many years. Will had his happy ending, he didn't need a sequel.

"Will, you don't have to do this."

"I know." He forced a small smile, then stood, rubbing his hands together. "I'm sorry to be kicking you out this soon after you got here..."

"No.." Alana stood, giving him a sad smile. "No, I understand. You weren't expecting a guest for dinner. Maybe we can all get together some time under better circumstances."

Will nodded, stepping over Farah and Baby to get to the door. He held it open for her and smiled again, though it was forced this time. The warmth was gone from it, replaced by a melancholy.

Once Alana was out, and headed back to her car, Will turned and went to the kitchen. He paused, watching his wife multitask. She seemed to sense him watching her and she turned, her bangs falling into her eyes.

"Did Dr. Bloom leave? I heard the door. Can you set the table?"

Will nodded to her question and entered the kitchen to fetch the plates. He silently laid out the placements, brow furrowed slightly as he rolled his thoughts over in his head. Molly leaned out of the kitchen, frowning at him.

"What did you two talk about after you shooed me out of the room?"

"I think something is burning."

"Will." Molly stepped into the dining room. "Can we talk about this, please?"

"We talked about Jack Crawford trying to ambush me with a student." He sat down at the end of the table, putting the piece of wood between him and his wife as he rubbed his hands over his face. His glasses were pushed up onto his forehead before he pulled them off. "We talked about the Lecter case."

"I knew it. Will, you've retired. You left that behind. Jack has the whole bureau to utilize to find Lecter, he doesn't need you."

"They have no leads." Will placed his hands on the table. "They have nothing. The last person Lecter spoke to out of all of us was me. If I step back onto the case he might react."

Molly leaned on her hands, glaring across the table. "Are you forgetting that Jack drove you right to the brink? You're the one who told me that. That he was relentless. I saw it myself whenever he would come over here, always trying to talk about the Lecter case or some other case."

"Lecter is killing people, he never stopped killing people. He's just going to go ahead and keep going and Jack is using trainees as fresh points of view, which is sloppy, its just.. Its rude." There was a tremble to his voice, a slight wince in his face at the word rude.

Molly noticed the wince, the way he was looking down and away from her now. She stepped around the table, pausing when Will tensed and sat up straighter.

"Will. Its not your job any more. You're retired. You've come so far.. going back will only hurt you. I don't want to see you hurt."

Will rubbed his fingers together before clenching his hand into a fist. "I can't look away from this when I know I can do something to help."

Molly pressed her lips into a thin line, looking frustrated. She shook her head and reached out to touch Will's hair. He kept it cropped short, even though Molly had liked it long. He'd grown it out once for her but every time she stroked his hair he became nervous.

And he leaned away from her now, eyes closing. He knew she just wanted to comfort him the same way she comforted Willy but it just didn't work the same way with him. It made him anxious.

"I want you to think about this. Don't decide tonight. Make Jack wait. I really want you to weigh everything that's going to go into this." Molly rested her hand on his shoulder instead and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "I mean it. And don't mention this to Willy."

Will nodded, his hand resting against the small of Molly's back before she walked away. He stared at the place settings at the table before rising to go and fetch his step son from upstairs. He found Willy flipping through his post card collection.

"You know, most kids collect baseball cards."

"No one actually collects baseball cards any more."

"Oh? What do they collect now?" Will stood over Willy's shoulder, looking at the cars.

"Dax and Aiden collect ponies." Willy tucked the new postcard under the cellophane paper.

Will's brow furrowed and he smiled slightly in confusion. He would have to ask Molly what ponies were so he wouldn't look quite as out of touch as he actually was. The news was all Will watched when it came to television. "What makes you want to keep them?"

"I want to go see these places some day. It'd be nice. Mom, me and you could all go." Willy closed his book and turned to look up at Will, smiling at him.

Will returned the smile. "Maybe. Lets head downstairs, your mom has dinner just about ready."

He turned and led the boy down the stairs. Willy fell into telling Will all about his day, since he'd been cut off by Alana's visit. There was apparently a little drama happening between one of his friends and his girlfriend, which in Will's voiced opinion they were too young for any of that nonsense.

Molly served another one of her fine meals and Willy continued to talk about what he learned in school, mostly at Will's urging. Will preferred knowing that his step son was getting an actual worth while education. He smiled a lot during dinner, his mind soothed by the presence of his family.

It was when night fell that the darker thoughts started to encroach on the peace. Will became quiet, unfocused as he tried to read. Willy disappeared up to bed at his mother's behest and Molly clicked through the television, glancing every so often at Will. It was clear he wasn't really absorbing what was on the pages.

"Do you want to go to bed?"

Will looked up, his glasses perched low on his nose. It made Molly smile. She reached over and plucked the plastic frames off his face to a small noise of protest which she muffled with her lips on his. She smiled, brushing their noses together when she broke the kiss.

"Want to practice making babies?"

He laughed, his head tilting back. He rubbed his hand over his face before taking her hand and standing. "If you're going to put it like that..."

He drew her close, an arm wrapping around her waist as he kissed her again. He kissed her the whole way up the stairs. By the time they reached the bedroom his kisses were more desperate and needy. He clung to her when they made love, his face burying into her neck. She held him and rubbed his shoulder until he fell asleep.

He dreamed of blood.

Chapter Text

"My name.. is Will Graham."

He checked his watch, before putting the pen back to the paper. "I am in Quantico, Virginia... and it's 9:46 A.M."

He stared at the clock he'd drawn before closing the little notebook, tucking it into his jacket pocket. He stood and forced his legs to move, walking towards Jack's office. He was the last one to arrive, by fifteen minutes. He took careful note of how rude that was.

.Jack stood when he entered the room, followed by the red haired woman who was sitting across from him. "Will! Its good to see you, I'm glad you got here so fast."

"It seemed urgent." Will stiffened as Jack stepped around the table to take his hand in a slightly exuberant manner.

"You look great! Healthy. You look good with a tan, Will."

"Are you flirting with me, Jack?"

Jack startled, then laughed, clapping Will on the shoulder. "Its good to have you back. I'm glad you agreed to take a look at this case again."

He turned and motioned for the woman to step forward so he could introduce her. "This is Clarice Starling, she's interested in the case."

"The trainee." Will adjusted his glasses on his face, as he shook his head. "Jack, you can't put a trainee on this case."

"Starling is a sharp mind, she's done her research. I think getting a fresh perspective is a good idea. She's good, best in her class." Jack stepped back around his desk and sat down, motioning for the two of them to sit. "And I think the two of you will get along swimmingly."

Starling offered a smile at Will. He didn't even look at her. He sat down instead and she followed suit. To her credit, she didn't seem bothered by Will's offish attitude.

"So she's my babysitter."

Jack placed his hand on the desk, trying to put a gentle stop to that kind of talk before it got worse. "No, she's not a babysitter. I want you two to work together. You have to remember, Will, you're not just an investigator on this case, you're a victim."

Will shifted uncomfortably at the reminder, fingers gripping the armrests of the chair. "So why invite me back onto the case? You could be tempting fate with me working on it, what if we find Lecter? What if I get to him first? I could go mad and kill him."

"Because you're the best option we have. You know his mind better than anyone." He motioned to Starling. "And we have Special Agent Starling to give you any assistance that you need."

"This isn't a training mission."

Starling cleared her throat to draw their attention to her. "I'm aware this isn't a training mission. I understand the importance of this case. I'm not here to step on anyone's toes, or for just a grade."

Will glanced at her, frowning. "No offense, you're not even an agent of the FBI."

"No offense, sir, but neither are you."

Jack glanced between the two of them, his hand partially lifted. The two special agents were glaring at each other already

"... If we're done bickering.. I'd like to get Will up to speed on the case." He picked up the file and handed it off to Will. "Lecter got a head start on us when he left the country and we've been behind ever since."

"Well, you were understandbly distracted by the suspected serial killer you already had in your custody." Will opened the file and examined the photos.

The kills were neat. Two in Ukraine, one in Germany, one in Italy and three from different areas in Lithuania. There was skill in each murder. Each one had some part missing, all reflecting a possible cannibalistic approach to selection.

"We think the ones in Lithuania are definitely Lecter." Jack spoke up after a moment.

"No."

Starling and Will looked at each other, both startled that they spoke at the same time. Will motioned for Starling to go ahead first.

"I don't think so. I think Lithuania would be the last place Dr. Lecter would return to. It would seem like he would be returning to his roots but this is where his shift into a killer started." She rubbed her hands against her legs. "Anyone knows that the classic beginning of a serial killer involves something traumatic happening in their past."

Will's eyes lingered on her for a moment before he looked at Jack. "He's not going to be this obvious." He pulled out the photos from the Lithuania murders. "Its sloppy."

"He's been sloppy before." Though Jack seemed unsure now. "What about the others?"

Starling leaned to look over Will's shoulder, which made Will notably uncomfortable. He leaned slightly away from her and shifted the folder to sit more between them so Starling wouldn't have to invade his space quite so much.

"Germany fits Lecter's profile." Starling picked up the photo on top. "Surgical cuts, clean. The liver was taken."

Will's eyes were lingering on the Italian murder. He recognized something in that photo, the feel of it. "Who is the victim?"

"Daniela Braun." Starling tilted the photo for Will to look at. "It's reflective of the Elise Nichols murder, except her liver was taken instead of put back."

"You're mixing up your cannibals, Starling, its Garret Jacob Hobbs that put Nichols back in her room." He pointed it out. "This is not Dr. Lecter, this is someone else. There's too much care in it. Not only that it says right here in the file that Daniella Braun was a good girl, respectful, duitiful to her parents."

Jack shook his head slightly, leaning forward. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Will took the picture from Starling and put it on the desk. "This.. this is not Lecter. He wouldn't kill her, she's a good girl, from a good family. He would have been impressed by her manners, would have appreciated her grace. Dr. Lecter.. eats the rude."

He shuffled the photos, selecting out the male victim from Italy. "This one. American tourist, his name is Jorge Zimmerman. The meat was carved from his bones. He was a rich drunk who took too many vacations, I imagine he yelled at his children while in Italy, because they weren't really his children, were they? A poor step father."

There was an odd glint to Will's eyes as he peered at the picture. Starling interrupted his reverie by taking the photo from his hand to take a better look at it. "So the victim's behavior is what makes Lecter choose?"

"Its not an absolute rule, but I have first hand experience with how Lecter responds to rude behavior" He closed the file and passed it back to Jack. "I would start in Italy."

Jack didn't take the file. "So that's where you two will start."

Will's expression fell. "Jack, I'm not going to Italy. I agreed to consult on the case, that doesn't mean going to Italy and following up your leads for you."

"Starling will be with you the entire time, as well as two fully certified, experienced FBI agents." Jack tapped his fingers on the desk. "I need you fully in the saddle on this case, Will, I need you at ground level."

"Maybe you should start doing your own damn job, Jack and stop using me as a meat shield, could we try that?" Will's face was flushed.

Starling looked startled at Will's reaction, glancing to Jack for some form of reaction. Jack's expression remained stoic. He expected this reaction from Will but it wasn't going to change his decision.

"As of right now, Will, you work for me. You agreed to get on this case. I'm paying for your plane ticket and I expect you on it." His voice left no room for argument. "Lecter will react to you being on the case."

"So that's the truth of it. You're using me as bait." Will dropped the file onto Jack's desk. "I'm not bait. I refuse to be bait."

"Starling is going whether you're going or not, Will."

Will scoffed, leaning back in his seat. "So you're that desperate for another Miriam Lass?"

Jack stood up, which caused Will to sink down in his seat like a child about to be scolded. "This isn't a game to me, Will!! You're going, end of story! Call your wife, let her know. I expect you to be on that plane!"

Will's fingers curled, nails digging into the palms of his hand. He was short of breath. He stared straight ahead, jaw working as he tried to come up with words.

"I wouldn't have called you in on this if I didn't need you. You'll be fully protected. Lecter won't get anywhere near you."

"What sorry bait I'll be if there's no hope of actually getting a taste." He forced his eyes up to glare at Jack before he stood, turning to leave the office.

He didn't look up as he strode down the hallway, hands balled into tight fists. He was having trouble catching his breath as he rushed from the building. He stopped outside of it, turning round and round, his hand pushing over his hair, other hand resting on his hip.

How could he tell Jack no when they could be catching a serial killer? Someone who was obviously still killing? He forced himself to sit down on a bend and he fished out his notebook.

"My name is Will Graham."

He thought of his wife, her arms around him. Her lips against his. The way she smiled against his neck and the sound of her laugh.

"I'm in Quantico, Virginia." He drew a circle, beginning to write the numbers out with a shaking hand.

He could almost feel the teeth on his shoulder of a man stronger than he was pressing him down into the mattress. The way his grip felt on his wrists, the movement of hips grinding him like a pestle into a mortar.

"Its 9... No.. " He looked at his watch but he couldn't focus on it.

"Its 10:28 A.M."

He looked up, sucking in a breath sharply that this little moment was being witnessed. "Special Agent Starling. I didn't realize you'd followed me."

She indicated the space next to him, asking for permission before seating herself beside him. "The clock test..? Are you feeling unwell, sir?"

"No, its.. ...A force of habit. I find it grounds me in the present moment." Will closed the notebook and tucked it into his jacket pocket. "I promise you, I'm feeling perfectly well, physically."

"But not mentally?" She didn't apologize for the forwardness of her question. She had one of those gazes that looked right through the bullshit.

Will avoided that gaze, watching the people walk by in their normal little worlds, oblivious to his own moment of insanity. "Why are you so interested in the Lecter case, Special Agent Starling?"

"Just Starling is fine, sir. Lecter is possibly one of the most prolific killers of our time. He ... fascinates me in a way." She tilted her head as she looked at him. "His profile has been the most difficult to nail down."

"He has no real motive for his kills." Will provided, fishing into his pocket for his aspirin. He was feeling a terrible headache coming on. "Only a curiosity. Cassie Boyle and Marissa Shore were purely out of curiosity"

"I think he has one weakness."

Will glanced at her, before forcing a slight smile. "What..? Me? Everyone thinks I'm his weakness. They think its because I found him out; that he took me captive." He shook his head. "Truth is I wasn't any closer to catching Lecter than anyone else was."

Starling shook her head. "I don't mean I think you were close to catching him. You may have come to that conclusion given time."

"What is it that you think, now that you've deflated my vast ego." He smiled ruefully at her.

"I think he cared about you." She had that twinkle in her eye, the same look Willy got when he was certain he'd solved that word problem. "I think his attachment to you resulted in him letting you go."

Will was silent for a few long moments before he stood. "I think Dr. Lecter's attachment was more on Alana Bloom and less on a pet he kept in the basement."

"I doubt it." She sounded so sure.

"I have a phone call to make. I'm sure I'll be seeing you at the airport." He walked away from her.

Chapter Text

"You can't, Will."
"I have to."
"You don't have to do anything, Will! Come home!"
"I'm sorry."

The city of Florence was much too crowded for Will. They were given a police escort by the name of Rinaldo Pazzi. Will immediately disliked the man, though the only person he expressed this dislike to was Starling. She seemed to be, for the most part, on his side.

"We have made your presence in the city known to the locals, as well as on some international news boards." Pazzi had told them.

"Do you really think Lecter is watching the news sites?" Starling's concern was a legitimate one.

"Lecter was an avid reader of Tattlecrime.com, he would most likely be reading the same kind of rags here." Will had smirked at the almost disappointment at Lecter's choice of reading materials that had shown on Starling's face.

They had settled into their hotel rooms, Will thankful that he was given a private room. The problem now was picking through the Italian investigation of the Zimmerman murder, both Starling and Graham spending quite a bit of time bent over files and reading witness accounts from the day Zimmerman arrived to the day he was found in pieces.

After a week of rehashing the same information over with the Italian police and witnesses that were still willing to talk, even Special Agent Starling was starting to lose that initial spark. She questioned Will's decision to come to Italy directly. Her answer was the murder of Celia Alonge.

The woman was in her twenties, hair a rich dyed auburn, curly. She worked for the local paper, had been one of the reporters running the FBI in the Florence story. She was found with a shard of glass wedged in her throat, broken off and left there.

Will felt sick when he saw the scene. A young redhead reporter, glass in her throat. He remembered clearly the slickness of blood between his fingers and the dim outline of Freddie Lounds in his dark room. He remembered how she tasted even more clearly.

He stayed back from the scene, further back than Starling. She wanted to take a much closer look. He didn't need to. He knew how the kill had gone down, or at least how he would have done it.

"Why her, out of all the reporters we had run the story? Why this way?" Starling looked back at Will, her brow furrowing. She didn't look confident that he could do his job from so far back.

Will couldn't tell her the real reason. Freddie Lounds had never been found. Her cause of death was only what Lecter had written in his journals and he never mentioned broken glass. This murder was directed at Will.

"She looks like you." Will provided, finally stepping closer. He didn't want to yell or raise his voice. They were in an alley, with the police barricading it off as best they could. "He must have noticed you, Starling."

Starling frowned, standing up straight. "He doesn't know me. The stories we ran were to get him to notice you were around again, so why would he suddenly focus on me?"

"Dr. Lecter could be charming when he wanted to be. Perhaps he's trying to impress you." The lies rolled off his tongue so easily. "He was never obsessive. Meticulous, intelligent, but not obsessive. He most likely lost interest in me when he decided I was broken."

"But this is definitely Lecter?" She seemed unsure. It didn't fit any of his other kills.

"I once said that we should expect that he would never kill the same way again." No, just copy with a slightly different quality to it. "He kills how he feels fit. This... this one he wanted to leave something behind." He knelt down next to the body. "Maybe silence her."

"Silence for what reason? She was telling him what was most likely is good news to him, if we consider this being for you."

Will didn't like that Starling could get stuck on things and bring them up over and over. "Its not good news, its decidedly bad news. There's a chance I'm the most dangerous person to him... and this kill isn't for me." He stood up. "Consider this the beginning of your courtship, Starling."

Starling frowned, looking a little unconvinced still but she left it at that. They were invited to visit the family and Will declined. He didn't need to see a crying mother to be convinced of the tragedy. There would be little to gain from them. No one had seen anything, according to witnesses. The body was found there, placed gently in the alley with her jacket tucked under her head.

Will urged Starling to go ahead and get the experience. She chose to stay with him instead. It was a little frustrating.

"I'll only be waiting for the coroner's report."

"I was told to stick by you, that I might learn something." Starling kept pace with him as they walked through the city. "But if you want some private time I can pick up some of the files and go over them again in my own room."

"You should go with Pazzi." Will urged again, his voice firmer this time.

She apparently could sense a borderline order. "Fine, I'll go with Pazzi. But I'll be checking in. Crawford told me to keep watch on you."

An admittance to being a baby sitter if there ever was one. Will shrugged it off, just thankful to be able to head up to the hotel room alone with one less person following him. The other agent attended him, though returned to the lobby once Will was delivered to his room.

Will's first order of business was to try and shower the images of the murder off of himself. The beginning of a courtship, or really a reigniting of one.

Lecter would have approached the girl from behind. His hand would have closed over her mouth to cut off her scream. She might have kicked and fought but Lecter would have been stronger. The glass would be a cheap plate, thick but not specifically identifiable. Nothing fancy. Will had never had anything expensive. She would have died choking on her own blood.

He could remember the sticky feeling of drying blood on his hands. His hands were soaked with red. He'd heard her knees scuff on the broken bulb glass, the way the fabric saved her from the fatal stomach blow. He'd struck before she could even scream. He wondered if she would have even bothered screaming.

He realized he could hear a phone ringing. He opened his eyes and turned his head around in the shower. He felt disoriented and he gave his head a few hard shakes before climbing out of the shower. He slung a towel around his waist before padding out to pick up the room phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Will."

Will nearly dropped the phone. The voice was immediately recognizable. He felt like a knot was constricting his throat, choking the words off his tongue.

"Are you there?"

He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. "Yes... Yes, I'm here.. Dr. Lecter."

"How unexpected of you to appear in Florence and on the case. I believe you've mistaken the true meaning of retirement."

"I got your gift." Will needed to sit. He sank down onto the bed, fingers closing on the blanket, twisting the fabric. "I'm not sure if I should be thanking you for it."

"Do you remember killing Freddie Lounds? I am sure it still haunts your dreams. I remember fondly of how sensitive you are to such things."

"I remember. She was my murder yet you took the credit."

"How is your wife? Did she take your return to the FBI well?"

Will tensed, hackles rising at the mention of Molly. "Are you bitter that you couldn't break me?"

There was a soft chuckle at the end of the line. "Will, I have only ever tried to put you back together. I only ever wanted to help you."

"Your version of help is a bit twisted, Dr. Lecter."

"It is a bit unconventional. Do you remember what we spoke about in our last conversation?"

He was trembling. He assured himself that it was from the cold, goosebumps rising over his skin. "I remember."

"Has your loneliness subsided now that a ring is around your finger?"

It wasn't what Will expected Lecter to bring up. He didn't know how to answer. His hand tightened around the phone, eyes flickering to and fro. He felt anxiety knotting in his chest. What he did then was rude.

He slammed the phone down onto the hook. A part of him immediately regretted it. Lecter was just going to continue fishing for personal information though, digging his claws in to pick Will apart again and leave the pieces scattered. He couldn't let that happen, not when he was held together so loosely.

The phone started to ring again, startling him. He stared at it before reaching to pick it up and slam it back down. He stood to go back towards the bathroom where he'd left his clothes folded neatly. The phone began to ring again. He ignored it this time, toweling the rest of the way off before slipping on his clothes.

He went back to the phone and picked it up, only to hang it immediately back up. He left his hand on it this time. His cell phone began to ring a few seconds later. It was across the room in his bag. He went to it, pulling it out and flipping it open.

"Hello?" He could hear the tremor in his voice.

"Graham? Are you alright? I'm coming to your room now." Starling's voice.

For some reason Will panicked further. "No, I'm fine, what did you need? What's wrong?"

There was a knock on his door and he could hear it through the phone as well. He walked to the door and pulled it open, Starling stepping in rapidly to look around. She snapped her phone shut as she looked, checking the bathroom.

"Why didn't you answer your room phone?"

Will fish mouthed, glancing at the phone then back at Starling. "... That was you calling it?"

"Yes, I called you from my room but the line was busy. Then I called again and you hung up on me. Twice. I was concerned." She squinted at him slightly, tilting her head. The gesture reminded him of someone else and it put him off. "Why wouldn't you answer your phone?"

"I didn't realize it was you." His hands were shaking as he looked down at his phone, frowning.

"Are you afraid of something? Did Dr. Lecter call you?"

She struck the nail on the head. Will looked at her, before looking crossly at the floor. "I'm not afraid, I'm stressed, there's a difference. I was just... trying to get a little sleep, I have a headache and the phone kept ringing.."

There was that look in Starling's eye that spoke volumes of how Jack Crawford most likely described Will to her. She thought he was fragile. A delicate museum piece that shouldn't be on the field. Well, Molly thought the same thing, Starling just lacked the love behind it. Love was replaced with pity.

"Graham, did Lecter call you?"

He could almost hear the phone still ringing. He shook his head once. "No.. No one but you called me."

She took a look around the room, then focused on the little bottles that were lined up on the desk. "... Were you drinking?"

Will followed her gaze and frowned, shaking his head. "No, I just needed room in the fridge, are you going to keep grilling me?"

"Answer your phone next time. Especially when Lecter is making himself known." Starling sighed, relaxing.

"I doubt he'll call me. He's more interested in you, Starling."

The woman seemed to barely resist rolling her eyes. She did let her concern show, for the briefest of moments. "I was looking over one of the files and I can't read your notes."

There was a brief moment of panic. He could read his own notes but that wasn't necessarily an indicator of anything. "My hands have been shaky. I'll be right over, just let me.. get situated."

Starling nodded and turned to step out of the room to head back to her own. Will was left alone in his room again. He sat down on the bed and rubbed his hands over his face roughly. He'd just lied to her face and she accepted it as truth. Why had he lied at all?

He pulled on his boots and neatened his clothes before stepping out into the hall to go to Starling's room. If he spoke to her about it now he could explain himself.

Chapter Text

Those little bottles from the fridge started disappearing. Jack Crawford wasn't pleased with their small amount of progress. A murder was not progress he told them. Will became frustrated mid conversation and hung up on Jack. Starling fielded the rest of the call. He meant to thank her for her patience but it slipped his mind.

The phone calls with his wife were harder. She told him about her day and how Willy was doing and told him about how much they missed him. She urged him to drop the case and come home. He would drink an extra little bottle when Molly called.

It was another week before there was any progress on the Lecter case. It came in the form of another murder. Another woman, another shock of red hair. Her face had been peeled off, reminding Will of Georgia Madchen's attempts at unmasking her friend.

"Another red head. I'm starting to believe you when you say he's sending a message to me." Starling had said behind the back of her hand. "She has ligature marks around her throat."

"From a telephone wire." Will predicted, kneeling next to the body. He pointed out the cut marks on the face. "This was done post mortem. Stripping her of her identity."

"More like delaying us." She seemed irritated by the kill. "We'll have to pull dental records and finger prints to identify her for sure."

Will wasn't so certain that was the only reason Lecter took her face. He couldn't place his finger on the why yet. He did know why the telephone wire. He'd hung up on Lecter. Lecter was now making it a point to express his discontent over the rudeness.

They had identified the woman as Eva Cambrea by her dental records but her face arrived at Starling's hotel door in a neatly tied package.

Will held the letter that had come with it in his gloved hands, reading it out loud as Starling looked a little ill. "Dear Ms. Starling, its come to my attention you are quite interested in me. I wanted to express my appreciation for your flattery and provide you with a gift to commemorate your first case with the FBI. Your's truly, Hannibal Lecter."

"Its a love note." Starling shook her head, stepping out of the way of the forensics team. "How does he know so much already?"

"Its not hard to find out information in this day and age." Will turned the letter over in his hands, before handing it back to forensics. "I told you he was targeting you."

Though Lecter had made that true. Will knew he was the original target. This was Lecter reacting to the rudeness. He was ignoring Will, moving on to Starling. If this were a relationship, Will was just dumped for the younger model.

There was a knot in his chest. He snapped his gloves off and attributed the feeling to fear for Starling. He threw his gloves out and tilted his head for Starling to follow. They would have to process her room.

"What do we do now? What does he want from me?" Starling drew her hair up into a pony tail to get it out of her face. She had a small sheen of sweat. It could be from poor ventilation in the building or from stress. She couldn't have had much experience seeing bodies yet.

Or parts.

Will adjusted his glasses on his face, shaking his head. "Perhaps to be your friend. I don't know. He wanted friendship from me."

"He wanted more than friendship from you according to your statements."

Starling was looking down when she said that and bumped into Will when he stopped. He was almost glaring at her.

"How much did Jack have you read, Starling?"

"I read everything." She didn't wince from him. "You were a suspect in six murders and then a victim of one of the most prolific serial killers of our time. I'm not sure if you're aware of this but the case is part of the curriculum."

Will's body stiffened. His eyes were wide and he couldn't pull his eyes away from Starling. ".. I'm curriculum."

"Not you specifically but the Lecter case is and you're involved." She was looking him over, clearly assessing his state of mind.

Will didn't want to be assessed. His trust of psychoanalyzation was thoroughly destroyed. He turned away from Starling and walked away, his eyes cast downwards.

"Graham." Starling was following him.

"Not now. Not right now." Will held up his hand, stopping her. "Focus on the case. Find out who delivered the package. Analyze them if you want to analyze anyone."

He slid the key card to get into his room and he closed it in Starling's face. He was curriculum. He remembered that he never went into extensive detail of every victim when reviewing active cases with a class, particularly if he was expecting them to do research of their own but he had never expected to be one of the victims spoken about.

How many students had been given a lesson on the Lecter case in the past four years? Jack Crawford would have had to approve it. These weren't investigators, they were students. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, shaking.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but lost his grip. It slipped between his fingers and it fell to the floor. It gave him a moment to pause and think. Calling Jack and screaming at him over the phone was pointless. He knew Jack would have presented the case to whoever was capable of providing intelligent input.

He leaned down and picked up the phone. He picked up one of the little bottles then thought better of it. He picked up three instead. They were finished before he even fully settled on the bed but his shakes weren't gone. He was just on his way to being drunk again.

He wanted to call Molly, but it was three in the morning where she was. He couldn't contact the one person he could use hearing from. He gripped his phone, shaking his head. Lecter was trying to get under his skin.

He laid back on the bed and breathed. He knew what Lecter wanted. He could piece this together as he did all the other killers.

"What is your design?"

If you love something you let it go.

"You want my attention."

He thought of the pretty red headed reporter. Her hair wasn't a natural red, but it would do. Freddie Lounds's hair always seemed almost unnatural. She was a unique woman, hard to replicate. Her murder was easy though. Her murder was sloppy. Lecter couldn't bear to be sloppy.

He pierced her skin in the same alley he left her. That was the extent of his sloppiness.

"See..?"

It wasn't a gift, it was a reminder of one. It had worked. Will lied about the phone call. Lecter expected him to. Lecter was still inside his head.

The broken glass was as non descript as the second victim. A woman who was chosen only for her red hair. The red hair connected to Starling, an easy connection to make. Lecter was threatening her. She could just as well be the faceless woman lying on the street.

"Begin layering your masks, Special Agent Starling, you're going to need them." Will slid his hands over the blankets, head turning to look towards the window.

"I'd like to peel back each one, leaving your skull bare."

The telephone wire was a painfully boring way of reminding Will of his slight. Will didn't deserve something more sophisticated. This was an insult.

"You're angry with me, Dr. Lecter. You want me to feel jealous."

It was why he was focusing his attention on Starling. She was similar to Will only in the status of Special Agent while being argubly more successful. She was a student with the FBI, meaning she was stable. She was healthy, young, a bright mind. No scars on her body, especially none on her mind.

"Oh the things I could do to her..." Will sat up, standing. He went to the window and looked outside at the world. "She wouldn't see it coming. She's not like me." He held up his hand and shook his finger. "Ah, but I would... I see you circling."

Will pressed his hand against the glass, squinting. He watched the police down below. His eyes flickered up, focusing on the strip of gold wrapped around his finger.

Has your loneliness subsided now that a ring is around your finger?

He turned and left his hotel room. He put his cell phone to his ear, calling her's.

"This is Starling. What is it?"

"Starling, Lecter called me."

"What? When?"

"A week ago, I lied to you. I owed Lecter a favor and he knew I would follow through with it. He's in my head as much as I'm in his."

There was a frustrated sigh on the other end of the line. "You're obstructing the investigation for a favor?"

"It was a big favor. Listen, don't leave the building. You're his next target." He started down the hall way, going to the elevator. "He's not going to kill you. He wants to get to know you, in person if he can. I can assure you, its not always a pleasurable experience to be Lecter's house guest."

"I'm following up with the doorman outside right now, I'm with Pazzi and Johnston."

"Stay with them, I'm on my way."

"Graham--"

Will ended the call, looking down at his phone as he rode the elevator down. Lecter's love was not a gentle one. He didn't want Starling to have to face it.

He stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby. He paused amidst the crowd, turning slowly. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rising. He went towards the front desk, pressing his hand onto the marble.

"My name is Will Graham, I'm in room 403... Was there something left here for me?"

The woman looked a little confused before holding up one finger. She turned to go and looked and Will's fingers curled against the marble into loose fists. His palms were clammy.

She returned and set a small box in front of him. It was non descript. He picked it up with a slight smile at her as a thank you. He opened the box and lifted the delicate bottle out. Acqua Di Parma Colonia. He weighed the bottle in his hand and actually felt the smallest of smiles on his face.

"Well it doesn't have a ship on the bottle."

"Graham." Starling called him from the doors of the lobby.

He startled and slipped the bottle into his pocket. He turned and let out a breath as Starling approached.

"Starling. I see you didn't disappear on me." He glanced at Pazzi and Johnston. "You need to keep these two on you, more than on me right now."

Starling frowned, her head shaking. "We have two agents, we'll keep you protected. What did you and Lecter talk about over the phone?"

"Just reminiscing about old times. He didn't have anything of importance to provide. He taunted me about my family."

"Everything is important." She frowned deeper. "So what are you thinking we should do? If he wants me then we could set something up, attract him out. We could--"

Will held up his hand. "He's not a fish. You can't dangle a lure and hook him so easily."

Starling had the grace to not look disappointed. She crossed her arms, frowning. "So we wait for the next kill?"

"We wait for the phone call."

"You think he's going to call you?"

Will shook his head. "No, he's angry at me. I haven't apologized, so I don't deserve a phone call. But you.. You are his new love interest. He'll call you." He lifted his hand to hover over her back, guiding her towards the elevator. "And we have to be there when he calls."

They rode the elevator up to the fifth floor where Starling had been put. She was glancing at him on the elevator, making Will uncomfortable.

"What?"

"Were you drinking?"

Will frowned. "What I do in the privacy of my own room isn't your business, Starling."

"So that's a yes." Starling stepped off the elevator first. "I'd appreciate it if you kept your head clear, especially if you're right about Lecter targeting me. I don't want to die because you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk. I'd appreciate it if you didn't question me, I believe I'm the one with more experience. You're only here as blackmail to get me to come out here."

Starling turned, forcing Will to come up short. "Experience that's clouded by alcohol. You might be Jack Crawford's favorite but its my life that you're playing with. I'm the one Lecter is focused on right now."

Will raised his brows briefly, reaching up to rub his forehead. "He's only focusing on you because he wants to make me jealous."

"Is it working, Graham?" Her voice was almost accusatory. "Are you jealous?"

"Are you profiling me, Starling?"

She spread her hands, shrugging her shoulders. " You were compliant to his sexual advances. He let you go. Now you hid a phone call for a week. Quid pro quo. What will he give you next?"

Will almost grasped his pocket with the bottle in it. "We should be focused on the victimology and you're the next victim."

"Are you going to return whatever the next favor is?"

"If it will draw him out then I'll do anything that I need to do." Will felt anxious, his heart leaping into his throat.

"Even if it means putting me in the line of fire?"

"I--" He stopped and held up a hand. There was a muffled ringing noise. He looked to Starling and jerked his head towards her room, rushing towards it.

She reached it first, brushing aside the police line and holding up her hand to the forensics guy reaching to pick the phone up. She hit the speaker button instead. "Hello, this is Special Agent Starling.."

"Hello, Clarice."

Chapter Text

"Hello, Dr. Lecter."

Will motioned forensics team to be quiet, finger to his lips as he approached the phone to stand beside Starling.

"You're not alone, are you?"

Starling hesitated, glancing at Will. He nodded his head. "Yes. I'm alone."

"Oh, this is a terrible way to begin our relationship, Clarice. The police couldn't have left your room that quickly. You have me on speaker as well. Is Will Graham present?"

"Yes, I'm here." Will stepped closer so he wouldn't have to raise his voice.

"Hello Will. I appreciate hearing your voice. Our last conversation did not end so well."

Will laced his fingers together, pressing his thumbs together. "I apologize. I was rude."

"I appreciate the apology. You do know how I abhor rudeness."

He tensed, remembering quite clearly how Hannibal felt about acts of rudeness. Starling took advantage of Will's tied tongue to speak.

"Why are you calling me, Dr. Lecter? To make sure I got your gift?"

"I'm certain you received my gift. I made sure it was delivered. I would have preferred to cook you dinner. I think you would be a fine guest for my dinner table."

"I'm not sure if you mean guest or dish, Dr. Lecter. I've heard of your proclivities."

Will lifted his hand, shaking his head. "Don't.. "

There was a chuckle on the line. "Thank you for attempting to defend my honor, Will, but there is no need. Its the truth. I partake in many types of meats and delicacies and I wish to share them with people I consider friends, or.. Potential friends."

"You want to be friends with me, Dr. Lecter?" Starling looked uncomfortable but she hid it from her voice. "I have to say I find a fascination with you that might translate well to a relationship."

"Please, Clarice, there's no need to patronize. I understand that any potential relationship we might have would have to be under unusual circumstances."

"I thought you had a fondness for me, Dr. Lecter. Have I bored you?" There was a slight shake to Will's voice.

"Are you upset with my attempts at striking up an affair with Clarice? I apologize. I assumed our relationship was beyond salvaging."

Starling glanced at Will, frowning at him. She furrowed her brow in question. He shook his head slightly, his hands closing into fists.

"I'm not upset. There's nothing to be upset over. You took me hostage and tortured me. That's not a relationship I'm interested in."

"I would prefer to have this conversation privately. My relationships are my own and I wouldn't want to deter Clarice from responding favorably."

"Which I'd like to respond, if that's all possible." Starling cut in, leaning her hands on the side table. "I would like it if we could meet, in some way."

Will snorted and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "He's not going to just pick a time and a place to meet you, don't insult his intelligence."

Starling turned to give him a sharp look, her head shaking. There was another chuckle over the line. "Defending my honor again. I appreciate it, Will."

"What do you want, Dr. Lecter?" Will nudged Starling out of the way, eyes lowered towards the floor as he listened.

"The same thing that I've always wanted. It has not changed. And please, you know you are welcome to call me Hannibal, Will."

Starling furrowed her brow. "What would that be?"

"We don't know each other well enough to be speaking of our wants and desires to each other, Clarice. Perhaps our next phone call can be just the two of us and we can learn more about one another. I'm curious as to what Jack Crawford finds so special about you."

Will felt his stomach turn. The interest Lecter had in Starling made Will's skin crawl. He could see that little spark of hope in Starling's eyes, that look that said yes, Hannibal Lecter could be captured. Will felt angry.

"I must be going. I apologize for cutting our conversation short, I--"

Will grabbed the receiver up, putting the phone to his ear. "Dr. Lecter, wait."

There was a brief silence. Will could almost hear the smile in his voice. "Have you been around town yet, Will. I must reccommend the Ponte alle Grazie. It is most beautiful at sunset. Take care of yourself, don't let Jack Crawford push you over the edge."

The phone clicked as it was hung up and Will lowered the phone back to its cradle. He swallowed, wetting his lips.

"What did he say?" Starling looked so earnest. She reminded him of his dogs.

When he turned he saw that everyone was giving him that earnest look. Like dogs expecting a bit of sausage. His lip almost curled in something close to contempt. Starling's brow furrowed when she noticed the slight twitce of his lips.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. He mentioned the Ponte Alle Grazie. He said it was beautiful at sunset." He looked at the phone. "I suspect he wants me to go there. I'm not entirely sure if he expected me to tell you though."

Starling nodded. "We'll go then. Take an investigative team." She turned, setting herself to the task.

Will knew she thought this was a lead. He suspected it was a red herring. Or perhaps it was just an honest suggestion. Lecter was known to try his best at getting Will to enjoy things in life, when he wasn't making his life miserable.

There was blood rushing in his ears. The drink in his system was making his mind slow and his hands unsteady. It wouldn't be appropriate for him to go. He turned away from the phone and approached Starling.

"I'm going to sit this one out. There's no point in me going and blowing the whole thing."

"He invited you though. If he's there he might only approach you." Starling rested her hands on her hips. "I think you should go."

Will shook his head, his eyes closing as he reached up to rub the side of his nose, pressing on the pressure point near the bridge. "I don't want to go. I don't want to see him. Its bad enough I've had to talk to him, I can't see him."

"We'll be there the whole time, you're the one he wants to--"

"Starling, no."

"Graham." She reached for his arm, catching him before he could make an attempt at escaping. "The person he's expecting to see is you. You need to go. I get that you're not at top form right now, but you're needed."

Will twisted his arm away. He wanted to protest and tell her that he wasn't needed but she was speaking the truth.

"We have a few hours yet. I need to lay down. Wake me when you need me." He left the room, avoiding looking at anyone else. He took the stairs.

The sanctuary of his room offered little comfort. He laid on his side and pictured his wife at home. She would be waking up in a couple of hours. He could call her then and hear her voice. Hearing her voice would hopefully ground him.

He pulled out his phone and tapped through it, going to Molly's name. His contacts list was so narrow. Molly, home, his doctors, the school, Jack, Alana. Lecter's number was still in his phone after all these years, left in the contacts, saved forever into his AT&T account.

He tapped Molly's name and put the phone to his ear. He listened to it ring and almost hung up before the phone was answered.

"Hello?""

"Willy, hey. How are you? What are you doing up so early?"

"Hi Will! I'm alright I guess. I just couldn't sleep... "

"I hope I didn't wake you.." Will smiled, strain in his expression. "How was--"

"When are you coming home? Mom really wants you to come home."

There was a protectiveness in Willy's voice. Will knew he was betraying them a little by not being home. There he was trying to provide the fatherly role and then he goes and runs off with Jack Crawford again.

"As soon as I catch the bad guy I can come home. I'm working with some great people so it shouldn't be too much longer. Listen, can I talk to your mom?"

"Yeah, hold on, she's in the bathroom." And like any kid he shouted for his mother instead of taking her cell phone to her.

Will drew the phone away from his ear at the shout, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He knew he had to be patient with Willy, even if his head urged him to explain to Willy why what he did was wrong. It wasn't his place. He heard the phone being handed off.

"Will?"

"Hi, Molly. I was just calling to check up on you." He left the desire to hear her voice hanging in his own.

"What's wrong? Did something happen today? Its early..."

"No, nothing happened. Another day of nothing." She didn't need to know he talked to Lecter earlier. She would just worry about him. "We're not getting anywhere."

"They can't hold you out there indefinitely. If nothing happens then they'll have to send you home, won't they?"

Will rubbed his jaw, feeling the stubble there. He needed a shave. "That's the theory. I doubt Jack will like conceding defeat."

"I don't care what Jack Crawford likes or doesn't like. I just want my husband to come back home."

"I'd love to come back home too.. Look, I'm sorry I called so early. I was going to look over some files, I just wanted to keep you updated."

"Thank you.. give me another call later, okay? I love you."

Will nodded though Molly couldn't see it. "I will. Bye." He hung up the phone, then realized his lack of response to her words of affection. He balanced the phone in his hand, thinking about it for a moment before setting the phone on the bedside table.

Instead of actually doing anything worth while he laid down to try and get rest. Sleep was fitful. He didn't dream of Molly as he hoped but instead of bloodied, faceless women and the way the knife would feel in his hand as he carved their flesh away. He dreamed of how they might have tasted.

When he was woken by the knocks at his door he found himself hungry. He dragged himself out of the bed, still tipsy and sluggish. He wanted to sleep longer, but only if it were a worthwhile sleep. He was desperate for rest.

"Ready to go, Graham?" Starling called through the door. She must have heard him moving about.

He wanted to call his wife but he'd missed the window. He wanted to call Jack and tell him he quit. Will just felt the need to call somebody to bring the world to a halt for a few minutes instead of going to the bridge.

"I'm ready." He pulled the door open, avoiding her eyes. "This isn't going to lead to anything."

Starling tucked her hands into her pockets. "He wants us to see something there."

"He wants to see me there." He rubbed his eye, nudging his glasses out of the way. "And he mentioned the sunset."

She looked concerned, reaching to pull him to a stop. "Are you feeling alright?"

Will pulled his arm away, his hand lifting. "Don't.. touch me. I'm fine. Even if I wasn't I doubt that I'd have much of a choice in this matter." He started walking again. He should have told her he appreciated her concern. He didn't.

He remained quiet as they were taken to Ponte Alle Grazie. He even began to doze until the car came to a stop. He grasped the seat of the car, jaw tightening.

"I'll go alone. If he's going to approach it'll be when I'm alone."

Starling nodded. "We'll be watching. He's not going to be able to get near you without being seen."

Will climbed from the car and took the long walk towards the bridge. Anxiety built the closer he came to the bridge, his eyes flickering around and searching the surrounding area as he walked. He saw no one familiar. He reached the bridge as the sun was setting and he leaned against the railing, looking over the water.

No one approached him for the next three hours. He simply enjoyed the outdoors after his anxiety settled. Starling came to the bridge after it entered the third hour, looking a little irritated.

"I hope he got what he wanted out of this."

Will lifted his brow at her as he turned slightly to glance at her. "What, didn't enjoy the sunset from where you were, Starling?"

"This was a waste of three hours."

"I don't think it was a waste." He looked back out over the water, watching the stars, though they were a little light polluted in the city. "I think it was just what I needed."

Starling leaned against the railing beside him. "Its not what his next victim needs."

He smiled ruefully then it turned into the first laugh he had since he'd returned to the FBI. He gripped the rail and tilted his head back before he turned and started walking back to where the car had been. "It wasn't my idea to come here. Actually, its a little insulting to have come here with such a police presence."

"I wasn't trying to insult him." Starling's voice had a protest in it. "I thought he might not have been able to resist."

"He's been resisting for years. This isn't how we're going to catch him. This was a..." He waved his hand, frowning. "A gift."

Starling stopped next to the car, looking at him with an almost suspicious look. "He certainly gives you a lot of gifts for being interested in me now."

"Well, I'm sure he's just accepting my apology. I can't say for sure if he's going to continue expressing interest in you.." He turned to start walking back towards the car. "I'm predicting we'll be gifted with another body soon."

Starling turned her head around at his words, frowning. "Do you think so?"

"I can almost guarantee it." Will avoided her eyes. "I don't want to go to the crime scene."

"We need you there."

"No, you don't. You know who the killer is. You've watched me figure out the last two murders, try to do it yourself." He buried his hands into his pockets. "If you expect to get anywhere as an agent you're going to have to rely on your own intuition."

Starling frowned but followed him. "You can't just refuse to do the job you were sent here to do."

Will glanced at her, an almost glare. He let it drop though. He just wanted to head back to the hotel and get some sleep.

Chapter Text

Will was right. It was a man this time, Antonio Facelli. Will let Starling report it to Jack. He didn't feel like being screamed at over the phone for not doing a better job at catching Lecter. He also didn't feel like attending the crime scene. He knew what would be found there.

He could picture it in his head. A body laid out, carefully carved open. An organ or two missing, just perfect for an exotic meal. It was a sorry thing Lecter had no one to really share that meal with. Will wondered if Lecter felt loneliness the same way the normal did.

Starling was angry with him, angry that he'd refused to go and stare at a dead thing with her. There was little he could provide other than to tell her that yes, Lecter killed him. The forensics were leading them no where, there was nothing they could go off of. Lecter was in the wind, as he'd always been.

He was putting on a show for the FBI. Will was aware of it. A catch me if you can act, leaving presents for them to sift through. It would go on until Lecter grew bored. There was little entertainment out of the FBI. They couldn't catch him, they'd proven that years ago when he slipped under their radar.

Starling would hope he would make a mistake. Mistakes happened. She pointed out that was probably why Miriam Lass was killed. A simple mistake on Lecter's part and he carefully tied up the loose end. She thought she would be the one to catch Lecter, a student.

Will took advantage of the crime scene and slipped out of the hotel after they had gone. He found it relatively easy to get past the agent left behind, as they all expected him to be afraid and in his room. He was afraid, but sitting in his room led no where.

The Italian streets were more daunting when he was out there alone. He couldn't speak anything but the bare minimum of the language and he carried no weapon. His only defense was his phone but there were those minutes it would take the police to arrive at his location. A lot could happen in a few minutes.

He walked, away from the hotel and further into the city. He tried to memorize what streets he took but he couldn't be sure. He had Starling's number if he really needed to call her for a way back. She would be infuriated with him. He imagined Molly would be as well.

He heard his cell phone jingling. He pulled it from his pocket, expecting it to be the FBI wondering where he'd gotten to. It was an unknown number. He put the phone to his ear as he answered it. "Hello?"

"Are you having trouble getting through the city, Will?"

Dr. Lecter's voice made him feel dizzy. His blood pressure must have been sky rocketing. He gulped in a breath and turned, searching the crowd.

"I thought I might run into you, if I took the time to go out and look for you..."

"I thought you might choose to look where I left you clues."

Will's lips upturned slightly but it was an empty gesture. "You want them to be scurrying around looking at all your clues. None of those bodies are going to lead them to you, they're just show pieces."

"So you thought you might come out and look for me on your own? What are your intentions if you do happen to find me?"

"Isn't it obvious..? I'll have you arrested and taken back to the States. You have plenty to answer for."

"Too obvious of an answer. I'm disappointed in you, Will. Has retirement robbed you of your depth?"

Will could feel Lecter watching him, goosebumps rising over his skin as he turned rapidly, searching. He was making himself dizzy. "Where are you?"

"Are you asking me as a special agent or as a friend?"

"I'm a special agent of the FBI, I can't just turn that off." Will swallowed, the knot forming in his chest, a tightness in his throat.

"You are not just your career choice. Tell me who you really are."

"Will Graham. I'm in Florence, Italy, its 12:55 P.M." His answer fell out automatically.

Lecter chuckled. "Yes, you are. I am glad to hear you're still using my techniques. Have they continued to ground you over the years?"

"Dr. Lecter, where are you?" He forced himself to stop spinning. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back slightly. He needed to relax.

"Is your new style your wife's influence?"

"Hannibal." His voice was tight.

"Will." There was a click on the end of the phone line, removing the echo. Lips were close to his ear. "You're wearing the cologne I gave you."

Will seized up, the phone creaking in his ear from his grip tightening on the plastic. He turned his head slowly, a sheen of sweat forming on over his skin. Hannibal was smiling at him, that same warm smile he always offered when Will needed words of comfort.

"Hello, Will. I am glad to finally have a chance to see you again." He lifted his hand, touching Will's forehead, brushing his fingers over the short hair. "You're sweating."

Will jerked his head back, swinging his hand to attempt to slap the hand away. Hannibal grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer. He turned Will's wrist, eyes looking over the ring on Will's finger before prying the phone out of his hand.

"I find that ring unacceptable and I expect you to take it off."

"Its my wedding ring." Will shook. His knees felt weak. "I found you."

"No, Will, I found you." Hannibal leaned closer, holding Will's arm against his chest. "Do you still feel like running from me, Will?"

Will swallowed, feeling trapped all over again. The grip on his arm was like iron. Hannibal tucked the phone into his pocket before reaching for Will's throat. Will tensed, his head turning away. HIs collar was pulled down and Hannibal smiled again.

"It's healed nicely." Hannibal released him, turning to walk up the side walk. "Are you coming, Will?"

Will turned, looking over his shoulder, searching for the nearest street signs. It wouldn't have mattered if he found them, he had no idea where he was. If he started screaming in the streets the police were sure to be called.. or at least the local psych ward. The problem with that was Hannibal was putting distance between them.

He jogged to catch up to the older man, his hands in tight fists by his sides as he kept himself a few paces behind Hannibal, watching the man's back. Hannibal carried himself the same. A confident man with a confident walk. Hannibal didn't fear the people looking for him.

He looked over his shoulder at Will and slowed, forcing Will to slow as well. "I would like it if we could walk beside one another. I see no reason why we shouldn't treat each other like equals."

"You're a murderer."

"So are you." Hannibal turned, taking a few steps backwards, putting his finger to his lips. "Though that is our little secret."

He turned back around and continued to walk. He approached a car and pulled the driver's side door open, pausing beside it.

"Are you coming, Will? Or are you going to risk losing me into the city forever? It would be a tragedy, wouldn't it, to have had me so close yet to have lost me." He smirked , waiting for Will to make a move.

"I'm not that stupid to get into a car with you." Will stayed back, as if he were afraid Hannibal would suddenly drag him into the back seat and lock him inside. Will didn't want to get into that car. He knew getting into that car would be playing right into Hannibal's hands.

"Are you so stupid as to be rude towards me when I'm extending an invitation? Or should I extend the invitation to Clarice instead?

Will went to the car, pulling the door open and closing his eyes as he sat down into it. He slammed the door shut and gripped the hand hold. The car felt suffocating. It smelled of Hannibal. The man's presence filled the car when he sank into the driver's seat. He hit the door lock, startling Will.

"Still making your decisions for the sake of other people I see." Hannibal started the car. Classical music played over the stereo, Goldberg Variations.

"Leave her alone." Will left his seat belt off. If he had to he would launch himself from this car and deal with the broken bones later. "She's just a student."

Hannibal nodded slightly. "Yes, I know. Jack Crawford learned nothing from the Miriam Lass incident. I feel very disappointed that Jack continues to be a slow learner, though I am glad he requested your return to the field."

Will was having trouble keeping his breathing under control. He took slow breaths but held them for too long, which left him feeling breathless. "Are you going to kill me..?"

"No, of course not." Hannibal reached across the divide and rested his hand on Will's thigh. "I told you before, the world is more interesting with you in it."

Will grabbed Hannibal's hand, attempting to pull the man's hand off. Hannibal turned his hand over and grasped Will's hand in his own. Will gave a tug before forcing himself to stop. He was only going to make things worse if he kept pushing Hannibal away.

"Were you waiting for me to come and find you?" Will's voice was tight, his throat constricting around every word.

"I knew Jack would eventually convince you to come back onto the field. Domestic life doesn't suit you, Will."

With a sudden yank Will freed his hand from Hannibal's. "Don't.. Don't tell me what suits me. I was happy in retirement. I had everything I could want."

Hannibal returned his hand to the wheel. "Did you? Then why reenter the field just to do Jack Crawford's dirty work?"

"Because you were still killing people. You never stopped. I was the best bait, they knew you would come running the moment you heard I was back in the field." He forced his head to turn, looking at Hannibal. "Jack knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

Hannibal smile, eyes remaining on the road. "How astute of him. Or did he learn that from your statements that you made against me?"

Will's expression faltered. He looked away from his former doctor, watching the city go by through the windows. "You held me captive and tortured me."

"I was attempting to open your eyes to a better you." Hannibal's voice was the same steady, firm tone, one that commanded respect.

"You raped me."

"You invited me into your bed. You offered to give me everything that Alana gave me just as willingly in exchange for me to stay with you." His voice had the softest of admonishment. "You called it rape because it was expected of you."

Will's eyes turned sharply to glare at the dashboard. "I called it rape because I was desperate and did what I had to do to get away from you. It wasn't expected of me. What was expected was a confession to six murders, four I didn't even commit."

Hannibal was silent, letting the music fill in the airspace before he chose his words. "Do you hate me, Will?"

"You raped me." Will repeated, his breath quickening.

"I made love to you." Hannibal's voice was gentle. "I returned your freedom because you came to love me back."

Will turned his head to look out the car window. They were going at speed that would leave Will bloodied if he let himself out of the car. He would break a wrist in the roll, scrape his hands raw. Possible head injury if he didn't catch himself the right way.

"I don't love you."

"I only ever wanted you to embrace the truth of yourself." Hannibal reached across again, glancing to find Will's hand. He touched the back of it, sliding his finger tips over the gold band on Will's finger. "Do you love your wife, Will?"

"Don't threaten my wife." Will pulled his hand away, clenching it into a fist. "Don't even speak of her."

"You left her to come chase after me. I am quite flattered, Will, that you find me more important than your marital bliss."

"You're a murderer. I catch murderers."

Hannibal smiled, hand resting back on Will's thigh. "Has she tamed every dark corner of your mind or do you still find yourself dreaming of blood? Do you still crave my cooking?"

Will stared down at the hand on his thigh. "Where are you taking me?"

"You continually avoid my questions, Will."

Will rested his elbow on the center console, his closed fist hovering over Hannibal's hand. "I dream of my wife." The lie was so easy to tell.

"Tell me the truth." Hannibal's grip tightened. "We know too much of one another to begin lying."

"Every night I dream of her. Every single night. I call her as often as I can just to hear her voice." Will's voice rose, grabbing Hannibal's hand as the fingers dug into his skin.

Hannibal fell silent as he drove. It was a different kind of silent from before. There was an anger in the air. Will watched the confines of the city fall away from them. His heart began to pound in his chest as he realized he was being taken away from the safety net of the crowds. The idea of flinging himself out of the car was becoming stronger in his mind.

The car slowed on an empty road, coming to a stop on the shoulder. Will tensed, preparing himself to flee. He would have to risk getting run down by the car, if Hannibal felt willing to ruin the meat. Would Hannibal choose to consume him if he chose to kill him?

Hannibal pushed Will's arm from the center console and removed something that Will didn't catch from the inside of the box. He reached over and took Will by the wrist, drawing his arm across the console away from Will's lap. Will resisted, pulling back.

"I would like to see your ring, Will." Hannibal paused in his tugging, waiting the moment until Will relaxed himself.

"Its nothing fancy, we didn't want fancy." Will started to shake. He didn't want Hannibal touching him. His eyes flickered away nervously.

"Who did you invite to your wedding?"

"Her family. Alana and Jack, Brian and Jimmy..." Will felt something cold slide between his fingers and he turned his head. "What are you--"

The bone cutters were sharp but Hannibal still had to put effort into it. He pushed his weight behind it as he closed and twisted the medical grade scissors, the crunch of bone resounding beneath the sound of Will's sudden screams. Hannibal's grip only loosened on the turn back, freeing Will.

Will jerked his hand back, staring at it in horror as he ground his teeth to try and bite back the pained scream that was bubbling forward.

"It disappoints me when you don't live up to my expectations." Hannibal wrapped the ring and the finger into his handkerchief before tucking it into his pocket.

Chapter Text

Will felt sick. Blood covered his hands and chest where he was cradling his maimed hand, his head tilted back, eyes closed. His cheeks were wet from the tears that had come unbidden from the pain, face pale and drawn. He wanted to vomit but Hannibal hadn't slowed the car since beginning to drive again.

All the the progress he'd dedicated himself to over the past four years was crumbling. He could almost feel the chain around his neck again, the old fear sinking back into his very bones. He remembered the fear he felt in that room, the fear that followed him into his dreams late at night even now.

"Why?" Will murmured.

Hannibal made a questioning noise, reaching to turn down the music. "What was that, Will?"

"Why are you doing this..?" It would be easier to give Hannibal what he wanted, but Will couldn't stand the idea of folding. Of giving in after working so hard.

"You and I have a connection, Will, one that shouldn't be wasted with petty arguments." Hannibal was slowing the car, pulling into a little village. "I hope we can move past this."

Will opened his eyes and forced his head up, looking out the window to see where he was. He didn't recognize it. He hadn't been outside of Florence since arriving in the city. He didn't know how far outside the city they were.

"Is this where you live?"

Hannibal pulled to a stop in front of a cozy looking home, set apart from the other homes. "For the time being, yes. Are you going to call Clarice Starling and tell her where you are?"

"If I had my phone." Will admitted. He needed a hospital, and his wife. His mind was breaking with every minute of pain. "You can't keep me hostage for the rest of my life."

"I could, if I choose to make your life very short." Hannibal stood from the car and stepped around it, giving time for that statement to sink in.

Will pressed the door lock, locking the car. Hannibal simply unlocked it with his key. He opened the door for Will and when Will didn't get out he stepped around it and knelt, half dragging Will from the car. The pain made Will dizzy. He was forced to lean on Hannibal to keep his feet.

He hoped the Italians were as nosy as his neighbors could be at times. The nearest house stood silent though. Will hated whoever lived there for it.

Hannibal drew Will into the house. Once the door was shut Will was pressed against it. Hannibal kissed him, a slow probing movement. Will's eyes sank shut. He accepted the kiss, trying to picture his wife to ease things but everything was Hannibal. The feel of it, the smell.

His mind wandered to a different image, of a bedroom where the curtains were always drawn. The feel of patterned silk in his hand as he held Hannibal at his mouth, the feeling of buttons between his fingers and the comforting touch of a lover and not a keeper.

Will forced his head to turn, breaking the kiss. "You cut off my finger. You don't get to kiss me."

"You provoked me." Hannibal admonished him. "You should not have lied to me." He leaned forward, nuzzling into Will's neck. "You should have thought better of getting married as well."

Will shook his head, pushing against Hannibal's chest. "You let me go, you said it yourself. I moved on with my life."

Hannibal pressed closer, lips trailing up to Will's ear. "Then why are you here, Will? You should have stayed in Florida if you moved on with your life."

"I'm here to catch you.. Or kill you." Will turned his head back, wanting Hannibal's lips away from his ear. He looked at the older man, eyes glazed with pain. "I won't be your pet again."

Hannibal noted the pain and took Will's maimed hand gently in his own. "Allow me to clean and bandage your wound. You may need stitches."

"Do you still love me, Dr. Lecter?"

"You are very curious about what I feel towards you." He gave a slight squeeze, eliciting a small noise from Will. "I am your psychiatrist, not the other way around."

Will tried to pull his hand free but ended up with buckling knees as Hannibal tightened his grip again. "Ss... stop, Dr. L.. eh.."

"You seem at a loss for words. Let's get you seated." Hannibal led him to the relatively small kitchen. Relative to Hannibal's old kitchen at least. He pulled a stool over and nudged Will down onto the round little platform.

Will was left in the kitchen, hand resting in the sink. He wanted to look at the damage but was afraid to actually see it. His arm trembled and he cradled his head in his other hand, his breaths coming in and out slowly. He didn't hear Hannibal return. Something hard and a little cool was pressed against his temple and he lifted his head sluggishly.

Hannibal was offering him an entire bottle of brandy. Will stared bleary eyed at it before taking it. He tilted it to read the label, then looked up at Hannibal.

"You want me to get inebriated while in your presence..?" His teeth were ground tightly, his voice rough with pain.

Hannibal smiled at him, leaning to grasp Will's wrist before turning a bottle of rubbing alcohol over the open wound. The bottle slipped out of Will's fingers, the bottle thunking to the floor. Will grabbed Hannibal's arm, trying to wrench his own free as he groaned loudly through his grit teeth, shuddering.

"Perhaps a sip of brandy will take the edge off." Hannibal suggested over the noise.

"Ffff...fuck you." Will forced his hand down, pressing his hand over his mouth as he shook. "Just... just."

Hannibal let go of Will's wrist to gently brush his fingers over Will's forehead before cupping his cheek. "You will be in quite a bit of pain as I do this."

"When it involves you, I'm always in quite a bit of pain." Will clenched his hand into a fist, then set his teeth to his knuckles. He glanced up at Hannibal before giving him a shaky nod.

Hannibal looked pleased and turned to bend over Will's hand. Will pulled against his arm quite a few times, shaking. He regretted not drinking anything because he would have rather not remembered what was going on.

"You will heal." Hannibal assured him as he wrapped the gauze gently around Will's hand and wrist. "Just another scar."

Will looked up at Hannibal, sweating and pale. He withdrew his hand slowly out of Hannibal's grip, cradling it against his chest. Hannibal leaned down, pressing a kiss to Will's temple before kneeling to pick up the bottle. Will grabbed Hannibal's hair the moment it was within range.

"You're not my psychiatrist any more." Will tightened his grip when Hannibal touched his hand. "Take me back to Florence."

"No." Hannibal lowered his hand to Will's knee. "I am in better condition than you are. Do you think you will win in a fight with me, Will?"

Will jerked his other knee up, catching Hannibal under the chin. Hannibal pulled backwards, hooking his hand under Will's knee to drag him bodily off the chair. Will instinctively grabbed for the counter with his other hand and cried out from the pain as his bandaged wound smacked against the formica.

Hannibal twisted his head away, dragging Will closer across the tiled floor by his legs, setting them on either side of his own hips. "Is this how you intend on thanking me, Will?"

Will growled, thrusting his hand up to stop Hannibal from leaning down. "No."

Hannibal took Will's hand and pulled it from his chest. "Why are you here, Will?"

Will yanked his hand away from Hannibal, pressing it to the floor to try and backwards scuttle away from the older man. Hannibal hooked his hands under Will's knees and gave him another firm tug closer.

"I asked you a question."

Will tried to pull his legs away only to be rewarded with Hannibal's fingers digging into the joint. "Are you going to rape me now, Dr. Lecter?"

"Have I sunk to that level before?" Hannibal kept his hold. He watched Will with a probing eye. He wet his lips with his bloodied tongue, leaving red there.

Staring back, Will found himself fish mouthing before setting his teeth together, lip curling. "You threatened me."

"Only threatened?" Hannibal tilted his head, thumbs rubbing against the thick fabric of Will's jeans. There was a pleased look in his eyes.

Will tried to picture a way out of this. He only had one hand. This was different than a dislocated thumb to get out of cuffs. He gave a pull at his leg only to have it firmly drawn back into place next to Hannibal's hip. He wedged his elbow against the floor, propping himself up.

"You are covered in blood. You can't expect to sleep in that shirt." Hannibal released a leg to grab the front of Will's shirt, feeling the congealed blood in the fabric.

Will let himself to be pulled up, eyes narrowing. He closed his hand over Hannibal's wrist, just holding it as he trembled. "Let me go."

"I let you go before and you returned to me." Hannibal's eyes roved over Will's face, even as Will turned his head away. "Why did you choose to come back? Jack Crawford has an entire bureau at his beck and call."

"I don't know." Will loosened his grip, sliding his fingers up Hannibal's arm. "I was looking for you."

"For what reason?" Hannibal smiled at him, leaning to try and catch Will's eye.

He received a hard, sudden punch to the face. Will backpedaled away from Hannibal when the man released him in momentary shock, yanking the stool in front of him to block Hannibal's path. He backed up until his back pressed against the wall, his arms coming up to defend his head.

There was silence between them for a few tense moments.. Hannibal stood, adjusting his clothing.

"If you act like a feral dog then I must treat you like one." There was the sound of a knife being pulled from a drawer and foot steps approached Will. "Feral dogs are put down."

Will shook his head, drawing his knees tighter. "No.. No." He turned and scrambled in the direction of the door.

Hannibal grabbed him by the collar, bringing his arm around Will's neck to press the blade to his throat.

"Are you begging me for your life because you value your life or because you fear what will happen to the family you've created if you die here today?"

Will's grabbed Hannibal's arm, legs kicking out to try and push himself back into Hannibal. "No. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Hannibal. Please."

Hannibal scraped the knife against Will's stubble "Your life is spent doing little anymore... You play the dutiful husband with a job in manual labor.. You used to hunt, but now you spend your days fishing..."

"I hated working for the FBI. I hated seeing the bodies..." Will swallowed, the knife leaving a thin line or red trickling down his skin. "You saw me breaking little by lilttle, every day. You facilitated a good portion of it!"

Lips pressed against Will's ear, kissing the shell. Will shuddered, shaking his head. It left slices against his neck, Hannibal's hand steady.

"You loved it. Jack Crawford would tell me about the looks in your eye, the coldness in your words when you couldn't shake your visions." Hannibal's breath was hot. "You weren't breaking down, you were breaking free"

Will grabbed Hannibal's hand and tried to force it closer to his neck, the blade stuttering against his skin as Hannibal resisted. "Kill me if you're going to do it. Just kill me!"

"Not until you admit to me what you are... You and I are the same, Will. You killed Abigail Hobbs because you wanted to. Because it felt good to you." Hannibal tucked the blade under the hook of Will's jaw. "Do you dream of killing your wife the same way you killed Abigail Hobbs every time she makes you angry?"

"I don't dream of killing my wife!" Will reached over his head, grabbing a fistful of hair. "I dream of killing you. I dreamed every night of how I would cut open your belly and leave you to bleed to death while struggling to hold your organs together for a long time."

Hannibal chuckled, stroking his fingers over Will's hair. "Really? You dream such sweet things all for me?" He turned the flat of the blade against Will's cheek. "I dreamed of slicing pieces of you away so that I might let you taste yourself before I bled you like a stuck pig after I heard you were married."

Will turned his head, noses touching from how close they were to one another. His eyes crossed slightly, fingers tightening in Hannibal's hair. "You let me go."

"I never meant to." Hannibal tilted his wrist, setting the tip of the knife against Will's shoulder. "I did not expect you to run as you did, to be truthful."

"I told you I wasn't gay." Will tipped his head back slightly, their noses parting.

Will's eyes flickered to the side as the knife was tossed to the floor with a flick of Hannibal's wrist. Hannibal's hand cupped Will's cheek, stroking a thumb over the stubble.

"This isn't me, Hannibal..."

"Then who are you, Will, if this is not you?" Hannibal pet Will's head, soothing him. As one might a feral dog.

"Will Graham, I work for the FBI... I'm a husband, and a father..." Will's head was spinning.

"You're more than Will Graham, special agent of the FBI." Hannibal pulled Will to turn towards him. "You're more than your marriage."

Will's head shook, brow furrowing. He hesitated, forcing himself to release Hannibal's hair and slide his hand away. He pulled Hannibal's arm down, freeing his cheek from the touch. "Let me go."

"Why do you want me to let you go so badly?"

"I have a wife." Will started. He almost didn't continue when Hannibal sighed, eyes turning away. "And a step-son. I have a family I can't just.. abandon to run off with you."

"Would you run off with me, If you didn't have the family to worry about?"

Will tensed, starting to pull away only to be held tighter. Hannibal splayed his fingers against Will's shoulder, forcing Will back against his chest. Will's eyes sank shut, hand tightening around Hannibal's forearm.

"Don't... Don't kill them."

Hannibal stroked his hair again, nuzzling against Will's cheek. "Why shouldn't I? You betrayed me when you went to them. I would be merely taking back what I had already claimed as mine."

"Please..." Will touched Hannibal's cheek, drawing his attention. He touched their noses together again in a small nudge. "Please."

"You're not homosexual, you've made that clear." Hannibal reminded Will.

Will responded by curling his fingers into Hannibal's hair and pulling him in until their lips touched. Hannibal responded, kissing back slowly. He reached up to touch Will's cheek again before breaking the kiss.

"You are offering yourself in exchange for your family." He pressed his forehead against Will's, tipping forward to brush lips against the corner of Will's mouth. "I find that to be a beautiful gesture."

Turning his head away, his brows lifting briefly as he shook his head. "You're not going to let me go this time, are you...?"

"I will let you go." Hannibal released Will as if to prove that he was telling the truth. He leaned to pick up the knife, moving to replace it into the drawer. "For I am certain you will return."

Will looked towards the door, weighing if he could make it to the door before he was caught again. He was in pain. He didn't know where he was. If he got out he would have to go to a neighbor and that possibly meant two people dead if Hannibal chose to kill him for running.

"What incentive are you giving me, Dr. Lecter?" Will looked back at Hannibal, shifting to his feet. He could be kicked in the face if he stayed on the floor. Hannibal had less of an advantage if Will was standing. "Or are you expecting your exceeding charm and unending kindness to woo me?"

Hannibal gave him a warning look. It caused Will to flinch, which was the reaction Hannibal wanted as the warning left his expression a second later.

"I want you to accompany me out of Italy. I want you to stay with me and experience the life you could have because I believe you are unaware of what I am offering you." Hannibal slid his hand over the countertop. "After which you may return to your FBI career or retirement, whichever you feel is most comfortable.. and your wife and son."

Will glared at him before lifting his hand, showing him the injury. "You cut off my [i]finger[/i], Hannibal."

"You kissed me just now. I assumed you forgave me."

"You..." Will shook his head, other hand tightening into a fist. "Give me back my ring."

Hannibal frowned, straightening. "I'd rather you not wear it."

"I won't consider your proposal without my ring." Will put out his hand, the other cradling against his chest again. "You were rude to take it."

"You were rude to lie and to taunt me." Hannibal stepped closer to Will, the younger man stepping back out of the way fearfully. Hannibal just continued beyond him, going to his jacket.

He reached into the pocket and produced the handkerchief bundle. He unraveled it and offered it out to Will. Will felt sick at the sight of his own finger. It gave him an idea of what his hand had most likely looked like before Hannibal did his work. The ring was still around the end of the finger, barely.

"Why are you keeping my finger?" Will hesitated a moment before reaching out to pick up the ring between thumb and forefinger. He gave it a small shake and freed the stained gold from the lost digit.

"I was intending on sending it to Jack Crawford, to remind him why he should stop pursuing me with students and broken men." Hannibal rewrapped the finger, giving the ring a small glare as he passed Will by. He needed to refridgerate his prize.

Will's nausea was just getting worse. He felt dizzy and he sank down onto the couch. He cradled his hand in his lap and stared at the gold band that linked him inexorably to Molly. At least, he'd thought that before. He rolled the ring between his fingers, leaning back on the couch.

Hannibal returned to the living area, his hands loose at his sides. "You need to get out of that shirt. It's unsalvageable."

"You're banking on me enjoying your lifestyle more than I love my wife." Will looked up at Hannibal, giving him a nauseated smirk. "What are you planning on showing me, Dr. Lecter?"

"I plan on showing you what you could have if you let go of your social inhibitions. If you do not desire to do something, even after a little convincing then I shall accept your no." Hannibal stood over Will before leaning down to pull gently at Will's shirt buttons.

"I can get my own shirt off." Will slipped his ring onto his opposite hand before gingerly picking at his buttons. His maimed hand throbbed and shook, making him sweat again.

Hannibal tilted his head, then extended his hand to Will. "Come with me so I might show you where the bathroom is."

Reluctantly Will stood and folllowed Hannibal further into the little rental. He pulled his shirt off carefully, frowning at the bloodied undershirt. His chest would need to be washed. Hannibal was polite enough to leave him in the bathroom alone but returned only a few minutes later with a bundle of clothing.

"Thank you.." Will accepted the clothing then waited for Hannibal to leave.

The older man lingered for a long few moments, peering at Will before stepping out to give him a modicum of privacy. Will let out a long breath and tried to focus on getting changed. His vision blurred and the panic creeped up on him rather suddenly. He covered his mouth to muffled the sounds of his gasps for air.

It was crushing in on him where he was, who he was with. Hannibal was doing the same things, being kind when it suited him. Offering Will something that Hannibal would eventually force him into because Hannibal couldn't accept a no. It would be easier to say yes, easier to accept what would be inevitable.

The door squeaked slightly when Hannibal peeked inside. Will panicked over being caught in his moment of weakness and he squeezed his eyes shut, sitting down heavily onto the toilet. He held the edge of the counter, head dropping.

He felt the hand touching his hair and he stiffened. His eyes flew open and he jerked his head back, looking up at Hannibal. He followed Hannibal with his eyes as the doctor knelt down in front of him.

"Will." Hannibal cupped Will's cheek. "Are you that frightened of me?"

Will wanted to pull away but the hand was a warm comfort. It was just problematic it was attached to the source of the fear. Will forced a nod and he held up his left hand, brow furrowing in an earnest expression.

Hannibal looked at the hand before gently taking it into his own. "I admit I may have overreacted. I feel betrayed by your choice to get married. It isn't often the mistress is the one who is married."

Another frown out of Will, his head shaking as he sucked in air. "She's... she's not..."

"I understand that our relationship is rather one sided. I have not treated you as an equal." Hannibal looked up at Will again. "It is for your benefit that I have treated you so roughly. You have grown as a person."

He cupped Will's cheek again, smiling at him. "You married. You are helping to raise a child. You have a steady job that doesn't leave your mind to ruin. Its what anyone would desire."

"Then why are you trying to take me away from it all?" Will swallowed down his anxiety, gripping the counter edge tighter. "I'm your success story."

"You are more than a mundane life." Hannibal sat forward on his knees, parting Will's with a gentle pull. "Your mind works differently. It requires different stimulus to be at its full potential."

Will sat back, his head turning away, eyes wandering the bathroom. He didn't want Hannibal this close. He didn't want to be touched at all. "I'm content being mundane."

"Let me show you something better."

Hannibal took Will's chin in his hand, forcing his head back around. He held Will still so he could kiss him for the third time that evening. Will let go of the counter to push Hannibal's shoulder, breaking the kiss to turn his head away again.

"I'm tired." Will rubbed his eye, head shaking. "I'm exhausted.. I want to sleep. I'm not making any decisions right now."

"I can accept that." Hannibal sat back on his heels for a moment, looking at his watch. "It is.. 3:32. I believe you have time to lay down, then I will wake you for supper."

"Don't." Will waited until Hannibal stood before standing himself. His knees felt like jelly. "I'll wake up when I wake up.. I'd rather just.. sleep."

Hannibal thought for a moment before giving a short nod. "I understand. Please, finish changing. I've prepared the room for you."

Will learned that by prepared Hannibal meant he'd turned the covers back and closed the curtains. It was warm in the room, which was obviously Hannibal's personal bedroom. It was the only other room in the house besides the kitchen that felt used and lived in. Will noted the packed bag set in the corner. Ready to be picked up the moment Hannibal needed to vanish.

"Are you going to lock me in, Dr. Lecter?"

"No." Hannibal tucked his hands behind his back after motioning for Will to go ahead and lay down. "I see no reason to. I have had trouble with the window myself though, so I recommend leaving it be."

Will sank down onto the bed but hesitated at actually lying down. His stare could have bore a hole into the carpet. Hannibal waited for a long few minutes, the two remaining silent. Finally he turned and stepped out of the room, even leaving the door cracked after he left.

Sinking to his side, Will laid on the bed, keeping his hand extended. It still throbbed with agony. He wasn't sure he could actually sleep with the pain pulsing along with his heart beat. Even if he could he knew his nightmares were waiting for him.

Chapter Text

"What do you mean you have no idea where he is?"

Those words echoed in her head. Clarice had never heard Jack Crawford sound so angry, particularly towards her. It wasn't just at her though, it was at the agents as well. She couldn't be solely blamed, as she had told Graham to come with her to the crime scene.

She had returned with photos, ready to show him what he'd missed but found his room empty. She had knocked for quite some time and called his phone but after no answer she and Johnston convinced the front desk to allow them into the room. Graham wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere in the building.

A search has been started soon after and Clarice was the one who called Jack Crawford. He was less than pleased at the news. Clarice felt her confidence torn down by the end of the angry tirade. That was three days ago.

No bodies, no news, no leads. The last Will Graham was seen was on the hotel cameras, walking off the premises. Johnston was immediately removed from the case for missing him.

Jack Crawford arrived early that morning, a storm of anger. Clarice felt embarrassed at having the supervisor have to show up himself. She felt responsible. She should have pushed Graham to accompany her.

Jack finished reviewing the tapes, eyes dark. Clarice stood awkwardly by the door, her hands tucked behind her back. She rubbed her thumbs over one another nervously, swallowing. It sounded loud in the silence of the room.

"He left, of his own voalition." Jack started, leaning down to reverse the video and watch it again. "He doesn't appear under duress."

"We asked for Will's phone records. We're still waiting on the red tape."

Jack held up his hand. "I have his phone records. We're not trying to convict him, we're trying to find him. There's an unknown number that called a half hour after he left the hotel. After that they're all from you, me and his wife."

Clarice pulled in a breath. "... Lecter?"

"I wouldn't doubt it. We're waiting on more information on the number now. " Jack shook his head and turned, stepping out of the evidence locker. "It must have been something in a prior conversation. You said Will lied about having a conversation with Lecter before he called the two of you."

"Yes, he told me of it after the fact. I thought he told me everything that was involved in the call but I can't be sure." Clarice walked a step behind Jack, mostly trying to keep up.

"What else did he tell you?"

"He..." Clarice hesitated, trying to piece together what would be important. "He was very insistent that I was the one Lecter was focused on. I didn't question it at the time."

Jack stopped and turned to look at her. "Why would he be focused on you?"

She stopped short, hands coming from behind her back. "Anger, I guess. Graham said he hung up on Lecter. Lecter could have been punishing Graham."

"Why punish him by ignoring him? I would think that's exactly what Will would want. It would give him an excuse to leave the case."

"In the case file for Graham's kidnapping it notes that he had intercourse with Lecter, but with no notable defensive wounds. Even Graham said in his statement he didn't fight back, using the moment to his advantage to get away." Clarice was nervous. She knew she was broaching a dangerous subject. "What if Graham wanted it to happen as much as Lecter?"

Jack frowned, looking almost annoyed. "What are you saying, Starling? That Will bonded with Lecter?"

"Captor bonding is possible. There was strong evidence suggesting Graham murdered Abigail Hobbs, which Lecter took credit for. It could have been a ploy to protect Graham... this would have been the first chance Graham had at reconnecting with Lecter."

Jack waved his hand sharply, as if he were trying to present Will Graham, the person he knew to her. "Will Graham went through four years of therapy to get where he is, he moved on, he married. He has a life. And you're telling me you think he's been wrapped up in the idea of Lecter for four years without any contact?"

Clarice stiffened, her back straightening. She wanted to drop the subject now that she'd incited Jack's wrath but she knew that she could just leave it be. It was a possibility Jack didn't want to face but one that was there, clear as day to Clarice.

"There might have been contact and he might have kept it secret. I think the possiblity that Graham is on Lecter's side of the court should be looked into." She hoped that Jack didn't dismiss her for this. Graham and Jack had been friends for years now.

Jack looked ready to, but seemed to take a mental step back. His expression was forced closer to neutral and he reached up to rub the line of his jaw.

"...Alright. We'll take that possibility into account. I'll have an investigator go to Graham's house and try to find anything that might have come from Lecter."

Clarice felt relieved at the words. She wasn't being ignored. She knew she was just a trainee but she hoped that her words could carry some weight when it came to this case.

"Is there anything else you need me to do for you, sir?"

Jack shook his head. "No. I need you to stick close to your hotel room for the time being. Lecter might still give you a call."

She wilted a little bit, having hoped she could remain in the field. It was the waiting game they expected her to play. She knew she would have to get used to this type of thing but she had hoped she could be more involved.

Jack accompanied her back to the hotel, mostly because he was intending on staying at the same place. Clarice went to the front desk first, to ask if there were any messages left behind. She was worried that if Lecter called he may have called while she was with Crawford.

The concierge presented her with a box, smiling as they explained it was left there by the post. She didn't accept it, instead having the concierge leave the box on the counter.

"Do you have a tissue?" She asked before accepting the scrap of tissue. She opened the lid of the box carefully and used a pen to part the tissue paper inside.

Her startled cry echoed through the lobby. Jack Crawford rushed over, looking over her shoulder.

"I think it's Will Graham's." Clarice's voice was tight.

"I think you might be right." Jack shook his head slightly.

It was a finger, tucked neatly in the box and wrapped in tissue. There was a plain white card just under the digit. It waited until the forensics team arrived to carefully take the box apart.

Jack took the card to read it, reading it out loud for Clarice's benefit.

"Dear Clarice. By now I am sure you have contacted Jack Crawford about Will Graham's disappearance. I assure you, I have everything to do with it. Remind Jack to keep a tighter leash on his pets or else they may become someone else's. Yours truly, Hannibal Lecter."

"So he definitely has Will." Clarice mentally cursed herself. She could blame herself for this one. She was making mistakes before even getting out of the academy.

"The last time Lecter left me a piece of someone they turned out to be dead." Jack closed the card. "I think we should remain aware of that possibility as we move forward."

He passed the card off to forensics to salvage what evidence was left on it. Clarice crossed her arms as she watched the Italian team mill off, rubbing her lips together before turning to look at Jack. "What are we telling his wife?"

Jack pulled the gloves off, balling them between his hands. "Well. I will be telling her that we've lost her husband in Italy and that he's back in the possession of the serial killer who nearly shattered him before."

Clarice looked away from him, looking frustrated. "...I'd like to apologize to her, if possible."

"Starling, it wasn't your fault. Will walked out of this hotel three days ago and put himself at great risk, knowing full well that Lecter was out there waiting for him to make a mistake." Jack stepped in front of her, trying to get her fully attention. "And according to your theory, he went out there willingly, expecting Lecter to retake possession of him. Hoping for it even."

"Do we tell her that?"

Jack shook his head, holding up his hands. "We tell her nothing more than what we know. She's a smart woman. I'm sure she'll suspect something is going on when we start investigating her home."

Clarice nodded, rubbing her hands against her slacks. "I'm going to head up to my room. Maybe Lecter will call to make sure his gift arrived."

She parted from Jack to head up to her room. She was a little thankful to be away from the scrutinizing eye of her boss and even her peers. She was acutely aware of what they thought of her. Just a trainee, getting underfoot. At least Jack Crawford had listened to her, though the possiblity wasn't a bright one.

She sat on her bed and let out a long sigh. She wasn't sure what she had expected when stepping onto this case. She knew it would be a learning experience but she could admit to herself she hadn't expected it to balloon so significantly. To her mild self disgust she found herself relieved that it wasn't her Lecter was interested in after all.

She'd read the files. While Lecter was a fascinating study he was a dangerous one and not one she wanted hands on learning with. She was curious as to what Will Graham was thinking when he stepped out of the hotel unattended.

Downstairs, Jack Crawford was checking into his own room. He would have to make the phone calls to notify Molly Graham of what had happened to her husband. He didn't want her being notified over the phone. It meant finding someone else to notify her in person.

The first person Jack thought of, and the only option he really felt comfortable with was Alana Bloom. Alana had been closer to Will and his family than Jack over the past four years. She had the advantage of having been closer to Will in the first place, though their suspicions of Will committing murder had driven a permanent wedge between them.

He waited until he was in his room and settled at the desk to call Alana. He knew he may be waking her up at this hour but it was important.

"Jack, its ungodly o'clock, why are you calling?"

Jack smiled slightly at the greeting, placing his hand onto the desk. "Dr. Bloom, its always a pleasure... though I have a bit of bad news that couldn't wait until morning. I'm in Italy."

"What happened? Did something happen to Will?" From her voice it was very apparent that she was very awake.

"Yes, I.. ... regret to say Will went missing." Jack was already wincing from the shout he expected.

"Went missing? How long ago did he go missing?!"

Jack glanced at the clock, as if that would help him get the exact time. "About.. three days now. We have every man available looking for him but we're certain now that he's in the hands of Hannibal Lecter."

"I told you to leave him out of this! I told you to let him live his life! This is the second time you've blatantly disregarded my advice and its resulted in the exact same thing!"

"Now, Alana, the circumstances this time are different. He wasn't taken, as far as we know. He left the hotel of his own voalition. He received a call from Dr. Lecter soon after he left the hotel. We believe there's a possibility he was meeting Dr. Lecter."

Alana's voice still had a vibration of anger in it though it had dropped out of a yell. "Why would he be meeting the person who tortured him and raped him, Jack? Explain to me why after four years of therapy he would throw himself back at the person who broke him."

"I'm not going to argue circumstances with you, Alana, not when we don't know for sure what's going on. I need someone to notify Molly Graham, in person, and you're the most sympathetic person I have on hand."

"She's going to blame me for what happened, Jack, I took him away from her in the first place. You need to call someone else, call Z or Jimmy."

In that moment there was a mutal thought of Beverly, missing that she wasn't around. All three of them, Alana, Jack and Will talked about how Molly would have liked her.

"Alana, please. I called you because I need you on this. You've dealt with his family the most, I'd like you to be a comfort to them if possible."

"Nothing is going to be a comfort to them, Jack. You need to find him and bring him home. I don't care how or for what reasons, or any of it, just bring him home."

Alana hung up the phone, which was within her right to. Jack sighed and ended his end of the call and set his phone onto the table. He didn't want Clarice's theory to hold any validity. He desperately wanted it to be a case of dumb mistake.

Either way, there was a man missing and Jack needed to start piecing things together to find him.

Chapter Text

Will's hands slid down the firm chest, bracing on Hannibal's abdomen as he rose and fell. He straddled Hannibal's hips, the older man's hands grasping his thighs as he watched him with a hungry look. When Hannibal sat up his arm looped around Will's waist, teeth biting at Will's lips. Will bit back before delving into Hannibal's mouth.

He shuddered, sweat trickling down his back, which arched to try and get a better angle. Fingers curled into Hannibal's hair as he tilted his head back, letting the man get at his throat.

"Will."

"Hanni... Haa.." He was getting so close.

"Will." A hand touched Will's forehead and Will opened his eyes to look at Hannibal.

Then he opened his eyes and saw Hannibal, leaning over him with a hand to his forehead. He startled and pulled back, head turning to look around the bedroom.

"You were murmuring in your sleep. I feared you'd fallen ill." Hannibal stood up straight, his hand tucking back behind his back.

Will looked down at his borrowed shirt, noting the sweat dampening the fabric. He noted something else going on between his legs and he carefully bent his knees to hide his shame. It was an unusual dream to be sure. Not one he wanted to be having while still in Hannibal's possession.

"Are you feeling ill?" Hannibal tilted his head, trying to catch Will's eyes. "Your face is flushed."

"No, I'm fine... Just.. It was just a dream." Will rubbed his hand against his face, feeling the stubble. He was a mess. He didn't have anything with him and he was borrowing clothes.

He was lingering here. He had no real way of getting back to Florence unless Hannibal took him or provided a way. He was effectively trapped at the little rental, which he was sure he could walk off and go to a neighbor but the fear of inciting Hannibal to kill them hung heavy over him. Will didn't want to feel guilty over another death.

"Well. I came to let you know that I am running low on supplies. Having two mouths to feed has eaten away at my food stores." Hannibal watched him, then reached out to press the back of his hand against Will's forehead. "Are you sure you are well?"

Will closed his eyes at the touch, swallowing and tilting his head away. "I'm sure. I'm fine."

"Arousal is nothing to be ashamed of." Hannibal noted before turning to step out of the room, leaving Will to his privacy.

There was a rush of blood to Will's face and he laid back, rubbing his eyes. He needed to get out of here. It was making his mind reel. His hand continued to ache and Hannibal offered no drugs to him to ease the pain, not even tylenol.

Instead Hannibal offered gentle touches and good meals. He treated Will as Alana told Will Hannibal treated her. It reminded him of his relationship with his wife, though his wife gave him a stronger sense of freedom. Hannibal always seemed to be there and Will didn't feel comfortable approaching the door.

A slow realization creeped up on Will and he flung the blankets back, climbing out of the bed to quickly stride out to the living room where he found Hannibal. He also found Hannibal's guest, a woman trussed up on the floor, plastic laid out. Hannibal turned, finishing rolling his sleeve.

"Will. I'm glad to see you're up. Would you like to help me?"

Will shook his head, backing up against the wall corner. "No. No. I'd really.. ... You can't."

Hannibal leaned to pick up gloves, snapping them into place. "Oh?" Then he picked up the knife. "And why can't I? I have done it often enough before."

"You're not doing this in front of me, you're not."

"Well." Hannibal turned the knife in his hand. "I was thinking that perhaps you could do it."

The knife was offered out to Will, who stared at it with slight horror. He shook his head, pressing his hands against the wall.

"No. I'm not a killer."

"Garret Jacob Hobbs, Abigail Hobbs and Freddie Lounds, if able, would surely argue." Hannibal stepped over the woman, approaching Will. "I will guide you, if you are feeling unsteady."

"I don't remember killing Abigail Hobbs and Freddie Lounds was an accident. You were there when I killed Hobbs, it was self defense..." Will's hands slid behind his back, trying to protect them from touching that knife that was being offered to him. He couldn't take the knife.

"You are a hunter at heart, Will and hunters should kill their own meals."

"I promise you, Dr. Lecter, I am far more of a fisherman than a hunter, regardless of my prior career choices." Will pulled his left hand from behind his back to hold up a finger. "Which, might I remind you, was hunting killers, not hunting people to kill."

Hannibal set the handle of the knife into Will's hand. "It is the same. You hunted, though you were the dog that fetched the prey, giving up your victims to Jack Crawford to put through an imbalanced justice system."

Will lowered his hand out from under the knife, shaking his head. "This isn't a matter of finding killers and rapists and killing them for justice for all. This woman did what, cut you off in line at the grocery? Some other petty action that you considered rude?"

"Removing the rude from society betters the society you're removing them from. If something is not up to your standard then why allow it to continue existing?"

"I'm not discussing this with you. Its not up for discussion. Its not a topic." Will moved to try and step around Hannibal, planning on freeing the unconscious woman.

Hannibal caught his arm, pulling him back around. "You think of killing people as others think of running errands. Your mind desires this type of release. It forms these images and thoughts and you deny yourself the follow through."

Will knew he shouldn't have stayed here. He shouldn't have lingered. He should have asked Hannibal to return him to Florence. It would have made his decision clear.

"I don't follow through because killing people is wrong. Its why its against the law, its why people get sent to prison or pumped full of lethal injection. I have no desire to experience either."

Hannibal stepped closer, whispering into Will's ear. "And if there is no risk of experiencing either?" He breathed in Will's scent, which was certainly much mingled with Hannibal's own. "If your desires had no consequence?"

There was a pause, the sound of wheels turning almost audible between them. Will stared down at the woman, the images coming to him. He could slit her throat, but that would be boring. He'd slit a girl's throat before, slit his own as well. He could cut her open as he dreams of doing to Hannibal but that felt like.. cheating.

Will blinked hard, turning his head away, shaking the images out like a dog would shake off water. "No. That might be you but it isn't me."

Hannibal pressed the knife into Will's hand, forcing his fingers closed around the handle. "Kneel down."

Knees buckled beneath him at the words so close to his ear and Will sank down next to the prone woman. His breathing was quickening, his vision blurring before coming into a sharp focus.

"You have done this before, with blades more dull than what's in your hand now. We will place the blade against her neck."

"I don't want the neck." Will heard himself whisper, voice so hoarse and thick to his ears.

Hannibal rested his hand on Will's shoulder, arm around him. "Then show me where you want to put your blade."

Will thought between the ribs would work. Pierce a lung, or drive into the heart. Bleed her out and cause a great big mess of warm blood. Watch her skin pale and the life vanish from her eyes.

"Who is she?"

Hannibal guided the blade to touch skin, though Will resisted the movement. "Isabelle DiSano. Divorced mother of two, children are grown."

"What did she do..?"

"I have had many encounters with Ms. DiSano that have been less than pleasant. She speaks poorly of her children and of her fellow neighbors."

"So we're killing her because she is a bad mother." Will felt a little sick. It seemed like such a petty reason to kill someone.

There was no major slight. The woman hadn't robbed Hannibal or killed someone he knew. She had a family, though she seemed to not appreciate them. It wasn't damning to be a bad mother. It might make Hannibal angry and even Will angry but it wasn't something that should have doomed her.

"I can't do this." Will tried to retract his hand but Hannibal held firm. "I can't justify killing someone for being a bad mother."

"You do not need to justify anything. You are killing her because you want to kill her, because you can kill her." Hannibal forced Will to press the knife against her skin, at her ribs.

The woman stirred. She was beginning to wake with a small groan. Hannibal turned his head to whisper into Will's ear.

"Soon you must kill her to protect yourself."

"Hannibal, you said I could say no." Will could feel the pressure, unsure of what he could do to really deter Hannibal from pushing him into this. He expected Hannibal to press the issue.

Hannibal loosened his grip around Will's hand instead, tilting his head to nuzzle against Will's neck. "Yes, I did. Though, I am going to kill her anyway and I am sure you remember the time I take with my victims."

Will tensed. He could remember vividly the crime scenes he'd attended in person. He could picture their deaths, screaming and twisting as the knife cut into them. It would be a slow, painful death.

The knife plunged into the woman's back. Will let out a breath before yanking the knife free. He drove it down again, in the same area. He hoped he hit the heart. He didn't feel the knife knick bone. The woman's body stiffened and she made the softest of noise. He let go of the knife, hand hovering over the woman's back as blood seeped out.

"How did you feel?" Hannibal's hand rested against Will's back, thumb rubbing gently against the thin fabric.

Will didn't know how he felt. He'd just killed a woman. It was a mercy killing. Hannibal would have stretched the end out for her, would have made her suffer. Will knew this but he still felt cold.

"She's dead, what is there to feel?" Will's voice sounded distant to his ears. Like he was hearing himself through a tunnel.

"There is much to feel. Did you cut yourself off from your emotions?" Hannibal's lips were against Will's ear. "I want you to feel everything."

Will turned his head further from Hannibal's lips and he attempted to pull himself away from Hannibal and the body. Hannibal wrapped his arm around Will's waist, drawing him back against his chest.

"Look at your work, Will."

Hannibal wasn't letting him go. Will turned his eyes back and grabbed the knife. He pulled it free and tried to bring it to bear against Hannibal but his wrist was caught. Will twisted his arm, before taking the knife into his injured hand. His grip was weak and Hannibal pulled the knife away.

"Look at what you've done." Hannibal took Will's chin in his hand, forcing his face to look at the body in front of them.

Will stared at the woman. His latest kill. He only seemed to kill women, outside of Garret Jacob Hobbs. The target choice was weaker than him, someone he could over power easily. His profile would maybe note a feeling of inadequecy. Maybe a sexual element.

Except he wasn't a serial killer. Garrett was self defense. He didn't know what had triggered him over Abigail but he knew he had been sick. Freddie was an accident, he'd meant to kill Hannibal. This one was mercy. He certainly came up with a lot of excuses for the lives that he took.

"Its beautiful."

Will turned his head, brow furrowing at Hannibal's words. "... beautiful? You find this beautiful?"

"I find you beautiful." Hannibal smiled at Will.

Will didn't return the smile. Hannibal cupped his face, head tilting. The two shared a long gaze before Will broke it and looked back at the body.

"Are you going to feed her to me?"

Hannibal shifted to his feet, releasing Will so he could begin preparing for what would be a butchery. "Perhaps you should go back to the bedroom."

Will stood, turning silently to return to the bedroom as he was bid. He sank down onto the bed and held his head in his hand. He could picture what Hannibal would be doing. He would cut the woman open and remove what organs seemed good. Perhaps remove shanks, loin, treat her like a pig.

His heart was pounding in his chest. He brought his hands down and gripped the edge of the bed. He killed that woman. Hannibal was probably wrist deep inside her. They would feast on her tonight most likely. She was just a source of food.

Will laid on his back, forcing his eyes closed. He could feel the panic rising like bile in the back of his throat. He remembered the feeling of the knife sliding between Isabelle DiSano's ribs and the way her blood flowed. The smell of it would be thick in the air while Hannibal worked.

He turned his head, looking towards the shaft of light coming from the curtains. He had saved that woman from a horrible death. Hannibal would have slit her open while she still breathed, shown her the organs residing in her chest cavity. Hannibal was a sadist.

Will groaned and rolled to his side, pressing a hand to his face. He rubbed his cheek, then over the back of his neck as he shifted uncomfortably. The bloody thoughts came unbidden to him. He could picture the scene too easily. The heart could still be salvaged. Will had never had heart before. As far as he knew, anyway. He stopped wondering what food Hannibal was bringing him while he was in captivity.

He slid his hand over his leg, tossing over to the other side. The minutes were ticking by. Hannibal killed so easily. He treated these people like livestock, less than people, all for minor slights. Bettering society, as he called it. Will wasn't sure if it was really bettering society but he found himself undestanding Hannibal's motives.

He stood, abandoning the bed. He stopped when the door opened, admitting Hannibal into the room. He looked Will over, wiping his hands dry. He still had some work that needed to be done.

"Will. Do you need anything?"

Will nodded but his words failed him.

Hannibal approached him, but stopped when Will tensed. "Are you feeling unwell now? I understand you may feel unsteady after your kill."

"I want to go to Florence." Will's voice was weak. He could tell Hannibal didn't quite hear him the first time. It took more effort than he expected to get his voice higher. "I ... I want to go to Florence."

"I see. How do you intend on getting there?" Hannibal tucked his hands behind his back, cocking his head to the side.

Will closed his eyes, feeling his shoulders growing slack. "... I can go to the neighbor.. and call the police and have them pick me up."

Hannibal smiled, nodding. "You could. Will you admit to them that you murdered the woman as well?"

"I just want to go to Florence." Will pressed his hands against his eyes. "It was my decision, you said it was my decision."

Hannibal reached out and took Will's hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over Will's fingers gently. "Will you betray me then?"

Will forced himself to look at Hannibal, eyes dull. He shook his head slightly, then turned his head aside when Hannibal leaned towards him. Lips landed on his cheek instead, where he tilted his head, lowering it to bite Will's neck less than gently.

"Let me go."

"I don't want to." Hannibal murmured against his neck. He set his teeth against skin again, until Will shoved against Hannibal's hands, pushing him back.

Hannibal gave a pull, trying to force Will to come back the few inches he pushed off. "Has it shaken you, Will?"

Will jerked his head foreward, cracking his forehead against Hannibal's nose. Hannibal stumbled back, blood beginning to flow down his face. He let go of Will's hands, lifting one of his own to hover over his face. He flicked his tongue out, tasting the blood that was covering his lips.

"I can't, Hannibal, I can't put a knife to someone's heart and be fine." Will gave Hannibal a hard shove backwards. "I'm more than shaken, I feel unstable."

Hannibal hooked a hand behind Will's head, forcing him in closer. He crushed his lips against the younger man's and received resistance. Blood mingled between the two of them until Will finally managed to break himself free, stumbling back from Hannibal.

"Don't force me. Don't."

The older man ignored the request. He approached Will and Will struck out, swinging at the man. Hannibal jerked back, avoiding the swing before grabbing Will's wrist.

"Hannibal."

"Will."

Will was backed up, Hannibal encroaching on his space. There was a desperate gleam in Will's eye. He started to raise his injured fist, willing to risk pain to get Hannibal away from him. Hannibal paused, head tilting as he peered at Will patiently. He gave Will a pull, drawing him closer by his wrist.

"I only desire your attention, Will."

"If I give you my attention will you take me back to Florence?"

"What is so important in Florence?" Hannibal tightened his grip, turning Will's arm to the side to step closer.

"The flight back to my wife."

Will's head turned, immediately expecting a hit. When it didn't come he forced himself to look at Hannibal. There was an unsettling rage in Hannibal's eyes, his grip like iron. Will met his eyes before he reached up with his injured hand. He imitated Hannibal's own affectionate gesture, brushing Hannibal's hair off his forehead.

Then he was shoved back, his knees bumping into the bed and forcing him into a sit. Will hissed between his teeth when he instinctively caught himself with his other hand. He looked up at Hannibal, teeth gritting together.

"What do you want from me that I can give you tonight?"

"A thousand more nights." Hannibal's lip curled slightly, betraying his discontent.

Will wet his lips, swallowing. "Not tonight."

Hannibal squinted at Will before loosening his grip. He let Will pull his arm free before stepping back. "I have a clean up to attend to."

Will felt dismissed. He didn't want to push the discussion, not when Hannibal's temper was so hot but he needed this to go right for him. It was the safest way back to Florence. It held the possibility of possibly getting his arrest as well.

"Are you upset with me..?" Will hated to hear the slight tremor in his voice.

Hannibal's expression was cold as he undid his waist coat. "I am."

"What are you doing?" Will tightened his grip on the edge of the bed, hoping Hannibal's sadistic side wasn't about to turn on him again.

"Do you desire me, Will?" Hannibal laid the waistcoat aside and untucked his shirt which most likely cost more than Will's entire wardrobe. He began unbuttoning it while keeping a steady gaze on Will.

"Is this what you want me to do?" Will countered, watching as Hannibal laid his shirt over the dresser to be picked up later.

Hannibal stepped closer and took Will's chin in his hand, fingers digging in. "I would hurt you if I were to take you right now."

"So make it hurt."

They stared at one another for a long few tense moments before Will parted his legs, reaching to grab Hannibal by the belt. He gave a tug and pulled the leather free from the buckle. Hannibal loosened his grip on Will's chin, turning his hand to trace the backs of his fingers across Will's cheek.

Will's head snapped to the side when Hannibal changed the gentle stroke to a fierce slap across the face. Will wanted to swing back but he resisted. He tightened his jaw, eyes closing before pulling the belt from the loops.

"Turn over."

Will stiffened before turning, doing as he was told. He crawled further up onto the bed before laying down on his stomach. He took slow breaths through his nose to stay calm. This position was a familiar one, only made more familiar as Hannibal drew his arms behind his back.

The leather tightening around his wrists caused a twist of fear in his gut. Will tried to look over his shoulder but he couldn't see Hannibal.

"What are you doing?" Will tried to roll himself, shoulders aching, hand throbbing. "What do you--"

The bedroom door clicked shut.

This wasn't how Will expected the day to go and he wasn't sure how he felt about being dismissed.

Chapter Text

Jack Crawford strode down the hallway, visitor's pass rattling against his blazer pocket. He stopped outside of the room, glancing between the two Italian police officers before stepping into the hospital room.

Will was turning his head away as forensics took photos of his wounds. His body was littered with bruises and cuts to his skin. There were bite marks on his neck and shoulders, mouth shaped bruises on the insides of his thighs. A piece of his ear was missing, a small chunk off the side. Blood stained his neck.

"What the hell happened?" Jack had to force himself to stay back, not wanting to contaminate what evidence they were managing to get off of Will.

"He warned me he would hurt me." Will's tone of voice was bitter. He winced as another photo was taken. More for the evidence folder.

"Obviously he was going to hurt you, Will, he's a serial killer with a fixation. Why did you leave the hotel room? You were protected there!" Jack really wanted to shake the other man but he wasn't sure if he could actually touch him yet.

Will shook his head , following the doctor as he was motioned over to the bed. He was covered in potential infection. He knew it would take a little time and touching to get himself cleaned up.

"I knew what he wanted. I thought that if I went out on my own I could attract him out." He pulled in a breath through his nose at the alcohol being pressed on open skin. "It worked, needless to say."

Jack crossed his arms, if only to resist jabbing his finger into Will's face. "To what purpose were you going to attract him out? To get caught again? There was no one with you to apprehend him, you were alone, you don't carry a weapon."

Will looked up at Jack, blue eyes filled with strain. "I don't know... I wasn't thinking. I thought I was safe, we were in public..."

"You were safe so long as you didn't actually go with him to wherever he took you." Jack uncrossed his arms to motion to Will's hand. "I got your finger in the mail. I had to call your wife to let her know you went missing."

"I know, I have forty eight missed calls and twenty three messages on my phone." Will glanced to where his phone was wrapped up in plastic, for evidence. He wanted to call his wife but he understood the need to exmaine it before he could have it back.

"Did you call your wife yet?" Jack watched Will, watched how his eyes seemed to drift, looking a little lost. "Will? Are you alright?"

Will forced a slight smile. "No.. I haven't called her."

Jack approached, bending slightly so he could look Will in the face. "You have to know what this looks like, Will. You went off by yourself, you met up with Lecter and you went with him, as far as we know, all willingly. Then you show back up here, a little worse for wear but alive."

"No, Jack, what does it look like?" Will forced his head up, looking Jack in the eye. "Are you investigating me?"

"I'm trying to figure out what happened, yes. I don't want to ambush you again, Will, I really don't but I have to look at this as objectively as possible. You need to understand that." Jack crossed his arms again. "Who sent the postcards?"

Will frowned, brow furrowing. "Did you go into my home?"

"The postcards, Will, where did they come from? Your wife said they come every week, that you said they were coming before you met her so don't try to say you're just brightening a child's Friday."

"Hannibal sends them." Will grit his teeth together. "They started arriving four years go, after he disappeared."

"And you're only just now telling us?"

"They were harmless. They were just pictures, random postcards--"

Jack did jab his finger into Will's face now. "You of all people should know nothing is just random! He was in those cities, that's four years worth of evidence we could have had in our possession, four years of wasting time, of more murders!"

"Do you think he'd be that stupid to send me easily tracked evidence, Jack?" Will looked affronted, as if Jack had insulted him instead.

"Why did you keep the postcards?" Jack plowed ahead, ignoring the way Will seemed to be growing more anxious.

"It would have been rude to throw them out." Will pulled his head away from the doctor, shaking. "Stop touching me."

"Why are you protecting Lecter, Will?"

Will's head snapped up and he shook his head. "I'm not protecting him. Why would I be protecting him, look what he did to me, Jack."

"I see what he did to you. It looks like the aftermath of some rough sex." Jack frowned, shaking his head as Will's turned away. "Is that what happened? Another rape? A sophisticated serial killer took you captive, maimed you, raped you and then let you go."

"Yes." Will bit the word, teeth baring in a show of frustration.

"For what reason, Will?"

Will's brow furrowed, lips pressing together as he turned his head away. His chest was heaving. The doctor laid her hand on his shoulder, speaking in low Italian. She made a motion, indicating he should try and breathe.

"Why did he let you go, Will?" Jack's voice was sharper.

Will clapped his hands over his ears and let out a scream, starling everyone in the room. He screamed until he ran out of air in his lungs. The doctor reached to touch his shoulder but he pulled away, hands raising.

"I want to go home. I just want to go home." Will shook his head, keeping his eyes on the floor. "I want to see my wife, I want to see my son, I want to go home"

"You're not going anywhere." Jack snapped his fingers in front of Will's face, forcing the man to look up at him. "You're under investigation, Will, it doesn't just go away because you're having a panic attack."

"Don't snap in my face." Will's words were clipped. "Am I under arrest for something, Jack?"

"Not yet, do you need to be arrested for something?"

Will shook his head, pressing his hands back against his ears. "Just leave, Jack, just go. I can't listen to this right now."

Jack reached out, grabbing Will's wrist and pulling his maimed hand away from his ear. "This isn't going away, Will, now why--"

He stumbled back when Will's fist cracked against his nose. He thought he heard a click but became distracted by the blood that was gushing from his face. Will looked nearly as shocked as Jack as he forced his fingers to open.

"Jack--"

"I can have you arrested for assaulting a Federal agent, you realize that." Jack's voice was tight and cold. He took the offered tissue from the doctor, who he glared at when she motioned for him to leave.

"We're not finished. I'm your ticket back home." Jack turned and stepped out. He paused next to the officers waiting outside the door. "He doesn't leave. I'm not finished talking to him."

Will closed his eyes, rocking himself slightly to calm down. He felt the hands on him, continuing the cleaning process. His ear was bandaged, as well as a few of the deeper cuts and bites. He was allowed to relax back onto the bed as the doctor checked his hand. She nodded and simply rebandaged it. Will wasn't surprised that Hannibal had done a good job.

He trembled as he laid back on the bed, feeling chilled. He was provided with a blanket and he curled under it, thankful that the scrutinizing eyes were gone and he could cover himself.

Jack wanted to know the reason why Hannibal let him go. Will could tell him the truth, that he'd exchanged himself for his freedom. Hannibal had clearly enjoyed himself, attempting to consume Will pre-cooked. The problem was Jack would question why Hannibal would need Will's allowance. Why not just take it as he'd done before?

Will turned his face into the flat pillow, cogs turning in his head. Hannibal respected him. That was why. The two of them had reached an understanding, as twisted as it was. Will kept Hannibal's secrets and Hannibal kept his, though it was still imbalanced. Hannibal kept much more from the world for Will than vice versa. The most Will could do was keep his location hidden.

He dozed after while, though his dreams were plagued with nightmares. He was woken by a knock on the door, and greeted by Starling as she entered.

"I guess Jack figures I won't hit you if I get upset." Will sat up, shifting his weight back so he could lean against the propped pillows. He rested his hands in his lap, staring at the space where his finger used to be.

"Yes, that's what I'm thinking too." Starling drew a chair over and sat down. "Agent Crawford said you left the hotel in hopes of drawing Lecter out. Why didn't you tell me what you were doing? I could have helped."

"He wouldn't have come if someone was with me."

"Then why not apprehend him when you ran into him..? Or called for help, or run? You were in a public place." Starling opened her little notepad, jotting little notes down.

Will knew he hadn't said anything significant yet. She was looking at his body language then. "I didn't know where I was. I was lost. I couldn't have told the police where I was quick enough..." He glanced at Clarice, but avoided her eyes. "He threatened to extend his invitation to you."

"Did that make you jealous?"

"No, it made me anxious about your safety. I see the rumors of my romantic engagements with Dr. Lecter are still going strong." Will shook his head slightly.

Starling tapped her pen against the pad. "Well you called him Hannibal earlier. You've only been heard to call him Dr. Lecter before."

Will frowned at himself. He hadn't even realized he'd said it. He needed to be more aware. "He asked me to call him Hannibal. He makes it difficult to refuse him."

She nodded, and jotted something else down. Will wanted to rip the pad out of her hand and throw it across the room.

"What happened while you were in his care?"

His fingers flexed. His hand felt better with the pain medication they provided him. "He kept me confined in a bedroom and fed me. It's what he did before."

Starling pointed out his hand with her pen. "How did that happen?"

"I mentioned my wife one too many times. Speaking of which, could I get my ring back at some point, please..?" He was lucky that Hannibal hadn't thrown the ring out. Will knew they had to process it.

"After evidence is done processing it. I'm sure it'll be soon, its not like its important to the investigation." Starling wet her lip, then looked back up at Will. "Did the two of you engage in any sexual acts?"

"Yes." Will tensed, looking towards the window. He was tired of the city.

"Were these acts consensual?"

Will looked at her, his head shaking slightly. "Does it look like it was consensual?"

Starling had the courtesy to drop the question, though she took note of the wounds she could see. "Why do you think Lecter let you go this time?"

"I asked him to take me back to Florence. He fulfilled my request." Will slouched back against the pillows, tilting his head back. It was uncomfortable but it meant he didn't have to see the blue sky he couldn't stand under.

"Why did he fulfill your request after he held you for nearly a week? He had no reason to, he had you exactly where he wanted you to be. We had no idea where he was."

Will felt a burning in his eyes. "He knew he couldn't safely get me out of the country."

"Why not kill you then?"

Will closed his eyes tightly, brow furrowing as he swallowed the lump formed in his throat. "Because he finds the world more interesting with me in it."

Starling shifted in her seat, leaning a little to try and see Will's expression. It was difficult to see from the angle that Will was sitting at. "Do you know where he was holding you?"

"No. I was in pain when we drove there and when we left I was blind folded. It wouldn't have mattered, I couldn't navigate Florence even if it could save my life..." He felt a chuckle build up and he pressed his hand over his face. "Which.. is a literal truth, I guess.."

"You're aware that we searched your home and we found postcards, which you said were from Lecter." She was building to something, it weighed on her voice. "By not notifying the FBI that Lecter was in contact with you that was obstruction of justice."

"In my defense I wasn't absolutely certain they were coming from Lecter until he asked me if I had gotten them." It was such a tawdry excuse. Punching Jack was probably going to land him with charges at this point.

Starling sighed, reaching up to rub her temple. "You should have never been asked back on this case."

"Is that your personal or professional opinion?"

She dropped her hand down into her lap with a little thud. "Its both. Lecter is going to be in the wind now. I doubt you'll be receiving any more postcards."

Will turned his head, lifting it slightly. "Do you promise?"

Starling stared at him, head tilting to match his angle. There was sympathy in her eyes, bordering pity. "I hope so. I'll talk to Agent Crawford. You'll probably have to sit through more interviews... and possibly face charges."

He was silent for a moment, absorbing that information. He hoped that what little scrap of friendship he had left with Crawford would save him, or perhaps at least Alana Bloom could convince Jack to have mercy. Will was sure his psychological state could be taken into account.

"When can I call my wife?"

Starling hesitated before she pulled out her cell phone. She weighed it in her hand, then offered it out to Will. "I shouldn't be doing this."

Will accepted the phone. "No, you shouldn't"

He tapped the number out and put the device to his ear, eyes focused on the ceiling. After the fifth ring it clicked as she picked up.

"Hello?"

Her voice sounded so confused. Will knew it was early morning and this was an unknown number. He could feel his tongue turn to lead at the sound of her voice.

"Molly, its me."

"Oh my god... Oh my god, Will, you're okay... Are you okay? Are you somewhere safe?" Her voice had an undercurrent of panic.

"I'm in the hospital, surrounded by police." His eyes were burning again. "I'm safe."

"What happened? Alana said you went missing, that it had to do with the case and they had no idea where you were... I haven't heard anything for days, Will, what happened?"

"Molly, I missed your voice..."

"When are you coming home?"

"I don't know. Soon I think. There's a lot of stuff that has to be sorted out." Will looked towards Starling. She gave no response. "I hope soon. Listen, I got hurt..."

"What happened to you, Will? Was it Lecter? What did he do to you?"

"We can talk when I get back to the States, okay? I'm sorry I put you through all of this..."

"Oh, Will, its not your fault. I just want you to come home soon okay? I'm so glad you're okay." Her voice was cracking. The tears were evident in her tone.

".. I have to hang up the phone, okay? I'll give you another call later, I promise. I have to give the phone back."

"I miss you so much... I love you."

Will's eyes shifted to Starling. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he looked to the window. He wanted to go outside and actually spend time out there.

"Will..?"

"I miss you too. I'll see you soon. Bye." He ended the call and passed the phone off to Starling before shifting the pillows down so he could lay on them. "Thank you."

Starling lingered, watching him as he rolled to his side, facing his back towards her. She stood and made her way out of the hospital room, stepping out into the hallway. She pulled the door shut and turned, facing Jack.

"What do you think, Starling?"

"He was forthcoming. He said Lecter threatened me which is why Will went with him. The reason he gave for his release was that Lecter couldn't get him out of the country safely, and didn't want to kill him either so he chose to release him."

Jack shook his head, crossing his arms. "That sounds a little fishy to me."

Starling glanced down at her notes. "He mentioned they had sexual contact and left me to make my own observations on whether or not it was consensual. He says Lecter asked him to use 'Hannibal' and Will did say 'Hannibal' when referencing Lecter until I pointed it out." She bit her lip and tapped the notepad against her fingers. "... And he refrained from saying he loved his wife."

"Was he emotional when he talked to her?"

"A little bit, but not overly so. It was controlled... It was a little difficult to tell since he tipped his head back but it appeared he grew emotional over Lecter being unable to take him from the country as well."

Jack sighed, turning to start walking up the hall. He had two butterfly bandages over his nose. He glanced at Clarice, before shaking his head. "What are you thinking? Captor bonding?"

"I don't think we should make a diagnosis without a psychologist getting involved." Clarice tucked the notepad into her jacket pocket. "Though I'm worried about the extent of power he hands over to Lecter, if that's the case. We don't know what Lecter is capable of pushing him into."

"Well, he won't be involved on the case any more.." Jack lifted his hand. "Though.. lets not assume Lecter is going to drop all contact. We're going to need to keep on top of Will."

"For how long?"

Jack paused, running the thought over in his head. "... I don't know. It depends on how much information we can get out of the operation to justify the watch."

Starling nodded then offered her hand to Jack. "If I don't get the chance again, I'd like to thank you for the opportunity here, sir."

Jack took her hand, looking a little confused. "Are you stepping off the case, Starling? Y our insights are valuable to me. Lecter seemed to have formed a minor connection with you as well. If we cut off his access to Will he might turn his attention to you."

"If... If you really think so, sir." She knew she was getting a little behind on the in classroom work. "I would be happy to continue to help."

"Good. We're going to need all the help we can get."

Chapter Text

There was something wrong with Will.

Which resulted in Molly calling Alana Bloom. Alana had been rejected the chance to be involved with Will's current psychotherapy and evaluations but she extended and open hand to Molly to call her any time if she needed someone to talk to.

Molly set up a private Skype meeting while Will was busying himself with a boat motor that needed repair. Will seemed content to focus on the mechanics of a motor and Molly was more than happy to leave him to it on most days. It brought him some level of peace.

"Thank you so much for taking time out of your day, Alana, I mean it. Things have just been.. hard."

"Any time, Molly." Alana adjusted the camera a little better on her before leaning back. "What's been going on?"

Molly folded her hands into her lap. She frowned and fidgeted a moment before speaking. "Its about Will. Obviously... I wish I knew what to do."

"How is he doing?"

Molly frowned again and reached up to tuck her hair behind one ear. "...He's depressed. He's trying to hide it from me. He forces smiles for my and Willy's sake but its not real. It lacks the warmth he had before."

Her eyes lowered, her melancholy clear in her body language. "He seems happiest when he's alone with the dogs and he still won't talk to me about what happened. I don't know if he was talking to you, even as just a friend...?"

Alana pressed her lips into a thin line before giving a single shake of her head. "He hasn't approached me, I actually haven't spoken to him since he got back into the States. He seemed disinterested in speaking with me."

"I see..." She sighed, looking back up at Alana. "He's struggling a little with Willy. He's doing his best, but there's a wedge there. Will's patience is less and he's showing more frustration."

"Will always struggled with social situations, he may have just regressed. Give him time and he should relax."

Molly glanced over her shoulder, as if expecting Will to appear. "I can talk to you about something private, right..? It won't get back to Jack?"

"I want to say that you can tell me anything but if it impacts the investigation at all then I have an obligation to tell Jack." Alana looked guilty. She wanted to be a perfect confidant but Will was under investigation.

Molly paused, mulling it over. She didn't want to accidentally betray Will but it was something she needed to talk about. "...He dreams about Lecter. He moans that man's name in his sleep..."

"He has nightmares about Lecter? He mentioned nightmares before, but nothing specific. Maybe suggest a sleep aid to him, if he's having trouble staying asleep. I'm pretty sure he took ramelteon for awhile to combat his insomnia."

Molly blushed slightly, looking almost humiliated. "They're not nightmares. At least I don't think so. Its.. ...different."

Alana looked unsettled. She gently touched her fingers to her temple, then tilted her head the other way. "You think these dreams might be .... sexual in nature?"

"I.. can only guess. I know what I see and hear and how he acts afterwards is like a teenager getting caught by his mother." Molly bit her lips before patting her clenched hands in her lap. "I'm not his mother. I'm his wife. I want him to feel safe enough to talk to me about whatever is going on in his mind."

"We can't force him to talk. We can only wait patiently until he does." Alana looked down, feeling embarrassed on Molly's behalf. "The only psychiatrist he's ever talked to was Lecter. He obviously has a transformed view of psychiatry now."

Molly shook her head slightly, frowning. "Did he have these dreams before? I've experienced his different dreams. These are.. .. are new."

Alana brushed her hair back out of her face and opened her palms. "He's never told me about having any sexually charged dreams about anyone, or even the details of his nightmares. He was more reserved around me after the first time Lecter held him captive. He shared less." She looked up into the camera, incling her head. "How much does he share with you?"

"He shares the minimum. He'll tell me when he's feeling particularly stressed but even when I ask him directly about Florence he refrains from telling me anything." Molly sighed. "He used to tell me a lot more. Not everything but he seemed to feel safe with me."

"Continue being a rock for him. He's going to need support and to have something stable to turn to will be good for him."

Molly glanced away. She knew she needed to be support for Will, that he needed her. The problem was that she had a son that needed her as well, one she needed to put first. That Will knew she would put first. Perhaps that was why he wasn't sharing as much, so not to burden her.

"Will will be coming in for lunch in a few minutes. I'm going to head down to see what he wants... Thank you Alana."

Alana spread her hands. "I really didn't do anything, I'm sorry I couldn't offer you more advice. I'll call you if I think on anything else. If you need me for anything be sure to call me as well."

Molly nodded and gave a short wave. It felt good just to talk. Her friends locally were her friends and they didn't understand Will. She couldn't talk to her parents either, as they never seemed to like Will in the first place.

She ended the call and stood, leaving the home office to head down stairs. The house seemed so quiet in the middle of the day. She went out the back towards the work shed. The doors were left open and the dogs were laying about the yard. Farah was the only one sitting close to the doors.

Will was bent over an engine, his hands covered with grime. His hair was longer, beginning to take on an unruly look. His glasses were perched at the end of his nose. He didn't seem to be really using them at the moment.

Molly crossed her arms over her chest as she approached the shed, clearing her throat to let her presence be known. Will glanced at her, tensing visibly. The tension faded after a moment.

"Your bandages are filthy." Molly noted, nodding her head towards the bandaged hand. The white gauze was a bit oily and stained.

"I know." Will flexed his hand before glancing up at her again. His eyes focused more on her collar bone than at her face.

Molly reached out and gently reset the glasses onto the bridge of his nose. "How's the engine coming along?"

Will scrunched his nose to adjust his glasses on his face, eyes going back to the engine. "I need a part. I'll have to order it. Its a little frustrating, I'm already behind on this repair."

"You don't have to fix it right away. Its a friend that asked you to, and he said he understands, with everything that happened..." Molly rested her hand on Will's shoulder. "Come on, I was going to make lunch. We should change the bandage too."

Will frowned, his head shaking. He leaned back over the engine, then hesitated. No, he couldn't finish right now. His excuse to stay outside has run out. Molly watched him before turning to pat her leg, beckoning Farah closer.

"If you wanted to stay outside with the dogs I can bring you lunch. I just need to know what you wanted." She stepped aside to let the dog get to Will. "What were you thinking?"

His hand found Farah's muzzle, giving it a gentle rub. "Anything is fine. Something simple."

She reached to gently touch Will's arm. "How about macaroni and cheese? I'll make enough for Willy when he gets home. I can get your bandage changed while the water boils."

"Sounds fine." Will nudged Farah out of the way, and his hand bumped the back of Molly's as they walked towards the house together.

Molly tried to take his hand in her's but he retracted both hands into his pockets. He turned slightly to whistle for the dogs and the pack came running at his call. He leaned to pet their heads and Molly felt a little disappointed that he paid more mind to the dogs than to her.

He wasn't holed up in the bedroom like he'd been in the first few days. He was walking around the house and talking to Willy and her and she needed to appreciate him coming out of his shell so quickly.

When he had been brought home she ran to him and clung tightly. She was shocked by the injuries littering his body. She hadn't expected pieces of him to be missing. He wouldn't meet her eyes when they spoke and he looked away or down more than at her at all. When she embraced him he was all stiff, his hold loose.

He hid from them, but slowly came back out from his self imposed sequester. The first thing that he did when he came home though was drink. He drank himself into oblivion the first few days until there was nothing left in the house. Molly refused to go and purchase more, nor did she allow him to head out on his own. The next few days was dealing with his resentment.

He entered the house first, holding the door for the dogs and his wife. She watched her husband go to the couch to sit down with the dogs. There was that calm she couldn't invoke him in him when he was just around the dogs.

Will looked up at her, as if sensing she was watching and he offered her a smile. At least, his expression took the shape of a smile.

"Don't do that, Will." Molly heard herself say.

The way his face fell made her immediately regret it. He looked away from her, fingers curling in Farah's fur. Molly approached, brushing the dogs aside to get closer to him.

"What I meant was don't do that unless you feel like it, okay?" She knelt down in front of him and receieved a few dog kisses for being on their level. She nudged them aside to rest her hands on Will's knees. "You don't have to force smiles for us."

Will tensed again, shifting back on the couch. His knees parted slightly and he frowned at her. He looked unsure and a little anxious. "I know. I don't want Willy to worry too much."

"He knows you're recovering." Molly pressed a kiss to Will's knee. "How are you really feeling?"

"I feel like I need a drink." Will reached a hand up to rub over his hair. He knew he wouldn't get what he wanted in this instance. Molly didn't like it when he drank.

"That doesn't explain how you really feel." Molly shifted closer, resting her arms over his knees. "You know that I'm here for you, no matter what happens, right? I want you to feel confident in that."

Will didn't look at her. He was watching the dogs, who were all sitting expectantly. They wanted something and Will knew what they wanted but Molly was currently in the way.

"Will?"

He turned his head to look at her. Molly cupped his cheek, then sat forward onto her knees. Will opened his to let her get closer, though he was tensing the closer she came to his face. She kissed him gently, resting her hand against his chest. She could feel his heart pounding and she frowned, breaking the kiss.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. Its not you." He reached up, gently touching her cheeks with his fingers. "I never want you to think its you." He cupped her cheeks between his hands and he leaned forward, bumping his forehead against her's. "You're doing everything right."

Molly pressed back, rubbing his chest gently. "I don't feel like I'm doing right by you. I feel like I'm failing you. I hate that you're afraid of me."

Will shook his head slightly. "I'm not... I'm not afraid of you." He stroked her face, touched her hair.

"But you are afraid." Molly took his hands, drawing them down. "You're afraid of something. What are you afraid of?"

Will curled his hands in Molly's and he looked down at them. "I'm afraid... of who I am now. Of what I am."

Molly slowly shook her head, squeezing his hands. "Will, you've never been anyone but yourself. You're stronger than what's happened to you You always have been. You've never been anything less."

"You didn't know me before. I was a different man before Hannibal took me into his home."

"I've known you for the past two years and every part of you I've come to love. Remember when we first met? You were so shy, you had just moved to Florida and you needed directions."

Will closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "I used to know what I wanted from the world and I had a clear sense of right versus wrong.."

Molly spoke a little louder, to be heard over Will's voice. "We kept running into each other and one day you gave me a ride home when it was raining and my car broke down. It was like the world was pushing us together." She touched Will's cheek. "I know you're a good man, you've always been a good man for as long as I've known you."

"You don't know the truth of me." Will pulled his head back, letting out a slow uneasy breath, opening his eyes to look at the ceiling.

"What do you want to tell me, Will?" Molly rested her hands on his chest again. She could feel how fast his heart was pumping. She saw the look in his eyes, the glisten of held back tears. He seemed to be on the verge of breaking, of finally telling her everything.

"Molly.."

The phone rang loudly, startling the both of them. Will rubbed his hand against his face, shaking. Molly sighed, standing. She cursed whoever was on the other end of the phone. She was followed by the dogs as she went to the kitchen to pick up. They obviously wanted something.

The sound of Will following excited them more and Will went to the cupboard to take care of their wants, for a few entertaining tricks in exchange.

Molly picked up the phone and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Ah, hello. You must be Molly." The voice was cordial, graced with an accent she couldn't pinpoint. "I am Dr. Fell. I was wondering if I could speak to your husband, if he's present?"

"Dr. Fell? Are you one of his psychiatrists?" Molly frowned. She hadn't heard the name Dr. Fell from Will.

"Not directly. I work under Dr. Wake. I was hoping to speak with Will in regards to his appointment on Dr. Wake's behalf..?"

Will was starting to look confused and concerned. The dogs had scattered to chew on their treats, leaving just Will and Molly in the kitchen. He extended his hand to take the phone and Molly wanted to resist.

"...Yes, of course." She sighed and handed the phone off. She couldn't deny him the phone call if it involved his mental health. "Its a Dr. Fell, he says he works under Dr. Wake."

Will's brow furrowed and he put the phone to his ear. For a brief moment, as Molly watched him, it was like his entire world opened and was laid raw before her. His eyes widened, head tilted back slightly. He took in the smallest of breaths. He looked surprised and then a little faint.

He pulled away from Molly when she extended a hand to him and left the kitchen, going towards the back door. He left it open slightly as he stood outside, speaking to whoever it was on the phone.

Molly knew she was in the wrong but she creeped after him. She paused next to the door and listened, catching snatches of the conversation.

"--expect you to call.-- .. investigation right now, you should know...--phone records.."

She frowned. This was a follow up call for an appointment. Why was he talking about the investigation? She strained her ears, leaning slightly until she bumped the door and it creaked.

Will's head turned and there was a sudden anger in his expression when he saw her hovering at the door. He said something low into the phone before hanging up. He approached the house and Molly backed away from the door, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Did you confirm your appointment?"

"Were you eavesdropping?" Will's voice had a cold edge to it.

Molly had never experienced Will with this much anger in his voice before. They had their arguments, as every couple did but there was something different fueling this irritation. "...Who is Dr. Fell?"

"It was a private conversation, Molly, why were you eavesdropping?"

"I'm worried about you, Will, that's why I was eavesdropping. You never mentioned a Dr. Fell. You were telling him about the investigation. Why didn't he know anything about the investigation if he's working for Dr. Wake?"

"You were rude to eavesdrop."

Molly lifted her hand to touch Will's shoulder but he grabbed her wrist. His grip was painfully tight. He pulled her closer, glaring, his voice darkening.

"What's to be done about that?"

Molly felt afraid. He looked so different from her Will in this tense moment. "Will, you're hurting me. Please let go."

"What are you doing?"

Both of them turned their heads, looking at Willy. He was staring at the scene before him tensely. The boy looked confused and worried.

Will let go of Molly, his anger lowering to a simmer. "We were having a conversation."

"Willy, why don't you head up to your room, okay?"

"Why was Will holding your arm? Were you arguing..? Mom..." Willy looked up at his mother as she approached him. He made an annoyed noise and turned, starting up the stairs at his mother's urging. "Mom, you can tell me if something's wrong."

Molly followed Willy up the stairs, her hand remaining on his shoulder. "I know. But this is something between me and Will, okay? You know he's not feeling well right now."

"Did he hurt you?" Willy paused on the landing, turning to look at her. "Just because he doesn't feel well doesn't mean he has to take it out on you, Mom."

"...I know sweetie." She reached up to stroke her fingers against his cheek. "Thank you for worrying about me, honey. You take good care of me. I'll call you down when lunch is ready and you can tell me about your last day of school, okay?"

The boy nodded and turned to head to his room, though there was reluctance in his steps. Molly turned and headed back down the stairs. Will was seated at the table, holding the phone in his hands.

"Will." He looked up at at her. She crossed her arms over her chest. "... Don't you ever grab me like that again. I don't care how upset you are, you have no right to hurt me just because you're angry."

"You were rude." Will enunciated the words, as if telling her would make her understand.

"What does that have to do with anything, Will?"

He spoke through gritted teeth. "You eat the rude."

The words were chilling. It set Molly on edge. She pulled in a breath, and approached the table. She sat down across from him and laced her fingers together. There was a slight tremble to her hands. She felt afraid.

"Did Lecter tell you that?"

"He told me he killed those who were uncouth. The dirt on society's clean surface." He looked up at Molly. "He fed them to me."

Molly felt ill. "Are you saying he would have killed me?"

Will tilted his head, brow furrowing. "...He would kill you for other reasons first... For being the woman I married at the top of the list."

"Is he planning on killing me?"

"That would be rude." Will drew in a breath, setting the phone onto the table. "I asked him not to. He told me he wouldn't."

Molly nodded, not sure if she believed Lecter would choose not to kill her simply because Will asked nicely. He was a psychopath. He would do what he wanted, regardless of what Will said.

"If I talk to Jack or Dr. Wake, will they know who Dr. Fell is?"

"I would hope so." Will's voice was steady. He looked up at her as he said the words with sincerity, meeting her eyes briefly.

Molly slid her hand across the table and pulled the phone towards her. Will reached and laid his hand over her's.

"I shouldn't have grabbed your arm like that..." His voice sounded tight, his eyes lowered and unfocused. "I never want to hurt you... I never want you hurt, I never..." He sucked in a breath, head tilting back.

Molly pulled her hand away and stood, stepping around the table. She wrapped her arms around Will's shoulders and rested her cheek against his head. "I know, Will.. I know. Its okay."

Will didn't return the touches, His hands closed into fists against the table, taking controlled breaths. There was something there, just beneath the surface. Held back and controlled only by Will's will.

"I'm going to start lunch. Why don't you lay down?" She resisted stroking his hair as she wanted to. It was getting unruly.

"I will." His voice was soft, a little distant.

Molly kissed his head against and stepped away, disappearing into the kitchen. She set water on to boil and pulled out broccoli to begin cutting into smaller pieces. She needed to trick Willy into eating his vegetables in some way. Will was more of meat eater as well, nudging his vegetables around the plate like an ornery child from time to time.

She glanced down at her arm where Will had grabbed it. He had been so angry.. It was disturbing. He'd never acted like that before. She felt worried. A small part of her wondered if he would react the same way towards Willy if he was rude.

She should call Dr. Wake. It was concerning. She was supposed to report strange behavior, and this was very strange. The phone call was strange, Will's behavior afterwards... She knew it was for Will's own good.

She turned and stepped back out into the dining room, wanting to fetch the phone. She was a little startled to see Will was still sitting at the table, staring at the surface. Molly frowned and approached, reaching to pick up the phone.

"Calling Dr. Wake?"

She looked at Will. He was very still, blue eyes completely unfocused. There was a disconnected look. Like Will wasn't really there.

"... Yes. I was asked to relay any unusual behavior to him.. And you're acting very unusual."

"Could you at least wait until I'm asleep to tell on me?" Will's voice's had the softest of tremors.

"Will..." Molly looked down at the phone, then walked it back to its cradle. She hung it up before going back to her husband. "You need to tell Dr. Wake what happened here. I'm trusting you... That you will tell him."

Will nodded, a little more clarity coming to his eyes. "I will.. I promise, I will." He stood, stepping around the table. "I promise."

It was like watching him rise out of water. As he approached her she saw the focus returning to his eyes and the focus was on her. He leaned in towards her when he was close enough and kissed her, hand touching her hair.

As much as she didn't want to break the kiss, the first one he's initiated since coming home, she did. She turned her head away and rested her hands on Will's chest.

"Will..." She looked up at him. The way he looked at her was full of hurt. "I have to finish making lunch. Why don't you lay down on the couch?"

He nodded, reluctantly letting go of her. He stepped around to head to the living room. She watched him go before turning to head back to the kitchen. When lunch was finished she found Will still in the living room, but not on the couch. He had laid down where the dog beds were, resting his head on Farah's side. The other dogs had come to lay around him and it was clear he'd become trapped there.

Molly watched him, recognizing her husband in the man that laid there among the dogs. The man that had grabbed her with such rage in his eyes certainly hadn't been the man she married. She worried about that man now that she'd seen him. She wasn't prepared to deal with that one.

Willy stopped at the bottom of the stairs, standing beside his mother as he peered in at Will as well. He looked up at his mother after a period. "... is there something wrong with Will?"

"Yes, honey, but the doctors are working hard to fix him, I promise."

Chapter Text

"Hello, Will. I've missed you. Your wife sounds absolutely lovely... .. Will?"

"I'm here. I'm sorry, I had to step outside... I didn't expect you to call."

"Are you happy to be with your wife again?"

"I'm under investigation, you should know that. Its not safe for you to call."

"Are you more afraid of you getting caught taking phone calls from the Ripper or are you worried about me getting caught?"

"They're going to check my phone records."

"I've taken precautions. I wanted to hear your voice, Will. I wanted to know that you made the right decision for yourself. Are you happy?"

"I have to hang up, my wife..."

"I hope to talk to you again soon."

The conversation ran through Will's head as he sat in the sheriff's office. He rubbed thumb and forefinger together, feeling the frustration curling in the pit of his stomach. He was shocked still that this required Jack to come all the way south.

"We've checked your phone records, your wife gave us the permission to... There was one call that was out of the ordinary, a number from Canada, Ontario to be specific. We haven't found the exact phone yet, but we're looking." Jack rested his hands on the records in front of him. "This call's date and time match a call that your wife found suspicious. The call was made to you."

"My wife..?" Will shifted uncomfortably, then turned, looking over his shoulder. He looked out through the glass doors of Jack's office to his wife who was sitting in the waiting area. She was looking at him and gave him a small wave. Will turned back to face Jack. "It was a private phone call."

"The caller said his name was Dr. Fell and he worked with Dr. Wake." Jack set the papers aside. "I asked Dr. Wake directly and he said he'd never worked with a Dr. Fell."

Will felt the pressure and he gripped the arms of the chair. "It was a private phone call."

"You said that, Will, but you're currently under investigation. Your privacy isn't my top priority."

"Its not what you think it is." Will shook his head. He was mentally scrambling, hands tightening until they ached.

"If its not what I think it is then why are you hiding it?"

Will forced his hands to let go of the chair and he brought them together. His fingers slid over the band of gold that had taken up residence on his right hand. "...I was having an affair."

"Excuse me?" Jack leaned forward. "Did you say an affair?"

"Yes." Will laced his fingers together, resting his elbows on the arm rests. "I was curious about my own sexuality after what happened and I struck up an affair with a man I met at a bar. He was vacationing in Florida at the time and returned to Canada.. he recently returned and I ran into him at the grocery when I went with Molly."

Jack stared at him, looking incredulous. "...You.. had him call you at your home?"

"I told him to say he was a Dr. Fell, in case my wife answered." Will tapped his thumbs together. "... I can't say I'm... proud..."

"And what is this man's name? Could we contact him?"

Will smiled stiffly. "I'd rather not say.. which is within my rights. I don't want to be blamed for ruining his marriage."

Jack shook his head slightly. There was clear disappointment in his eyes. "...Will, do you expect me to believe that a mysterious gentleman caller happened to come back into your life right at this moment?"

"Do I have any reason to lie to you, Jack?"

"This is your last chance to tell me if it was Lecter that called you." Jack watched him, watching Will start to crumble under the scrutiny. "I'm not going to arrest you for being afraid, Will."

Will reached up, wiping his mouth. He felt the pressure. He slouched in his seat, bringing his other hand up to rub both against his cheeks and into his eyes, pushing his glasses out of the way.

"Will, I can assure you... when I investigate this, if I find out this was Lecter that called you..." He pressed his hand on the desk. "I will pursue charges of impeding a federal investigation."

Will stared across the desk at Jack, glasses crooked and lips pressed into a thin line. His hands were gripping the arm rests again, breath coming a little faster. "Are you the only agent available to talk to about this matter?"

"Of course not, though I assure you, everything gets back to me. I'm the head of the Behavioral Science Unit, Will, regardless of who you talk to, I will know." Jack reached for his phone to summon a different agent per Will's request. "Now, would you rather I tell your wife about your affair or do you want to break the news?"

There was a cold twist in Will's gut as he realized Jack was serious. He reached out and hit the hook to hang up the phone. Jack watched him as he slowly replaced the phone onto its cradle, watching as Will leaned back and closed his hands into fists.

".... It was Lecter on the phone."

"Why did you say it was your lover?" Jack had that suspicious look in his eye.

"I don't know, Jack, because I have a wife and a son? Both of which are targets? He explained to me how he wanted to marinade them, I had a feeling saying anything would expedite the process." Will let his frustration out, hands pushing back into his hair. "What was I supposed to do, Jack, run to the police? He knows where I live, he knows where my wife works, where my son goes to school..."

Jack shook his head, laying his hand on the desk. "That's what we're here for, Will. To protect you. You need to trust me."

"Because you've given me every reason to trust you." Will shook his head and stood. "You still believe I'm screwing Lecter on the side, so excuse me if you and I don't see eye to eye any more, Jack."

"Will, I'm just doing my job, which is investigating all avenues. You haven't exactly given me reason to trust you."

Will waved his hand. "But I'm expected to trust you. Sorry, Jack, my good faith is still a little raw."

Jack sighed, lowering his head slightly. "I don't want this to be any harder on you than it has to be. I'll get you set up with a police escort. We'll have your family protected. If Lecter calls again we'll make sure to catch him this time, I promise you that."

"Don't make promises you aren't sure you can keep." Will snapped as he pulled the office door open and stepped out to go to his wife.

She peered up at him, shifting to start standing. Will rested a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. "We're going to be here for another few minutes."

Molly frowned and turned towards him when he sat down next to her. "What do you mean? Is there something going on I should be worried about?"

Will took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He traced his thumb over her wedding ring, turning the engagement ring as he brushed it. "... Dr. Fell was Lecter."

"... I had a feeling." Molly withdrew her hand gently. "Will, you should have said something when you got the call, they could have caught him. This could have been over."

His hand opened and closed, wishing her's was still there. "He threatened you and Willy. I didn't want to make things worse. Molly, I was thinking of you and your safety and Willy's."

Molly closed her eyes and she reached up to cradle her head. "... So what happens now, Will?"

"We're being put under police protection. We'll be completely safe.. any further phone calls are going to be traced."

"Will." Molly turned to face him, taking his hand into her's. "I think Willy and I should go stay with my parents for awhile."

Will's expression started to crumble at the edges. "Molly, we're going to have full police protection, we--"

"I don't trust Jack, Will. To start with." She held up a hand. "And Lecter knows where we live. That puts my son's life at risk and I'm not willing to put him any more at risk than he already is. You can't tell me that we wouldn't be safer at my parents, where Lecter doesn't know where we are."

Will frowned, eyes lowering. He didn't want to be left alone in that house. "... I need you."

Molly pulled her hand away again, shaking her head. "Will, I understand that you're not feeling well right now, I appreciate the gravity of everything you've been through... But you've lied to me, you've lied to the people that want to protect you. And as much as you need me, Willy needs me more and I know it would be safer if I went to stay with my parents."

"Molly.." Will shook his head, trying to take her hand again. "Molly, I was trying to protect you..."

"I appreciate what you were trying to do. I do. I understand. Please understand why I have to stay at my parents, please." She reached to cup his cheek, trying to offer a smile. "You'll be okay without me, I promise. I'll call."

Will tipped his head back slightly, brow furrowing. "...How long are you planning on staying?"

Molly lowered her hand and looked away. "... Can we not talk about this here?"

"When exactly do you want to talk about it, Molly, over the phone after you went to your parents?" Will covered his mouth briefly before pushing his hand back thorugh his hair. "... Do you want a divorce?"

She didn't meet his eyes. She clasped her hands in her lap, pressing her lips together before choosing her words. "I have a son that I need to think about, Will. And right now I have a broken husband who's a complete mess, who says things like... 'eat the rude' when he's upset over something I did."

"I didn't... mean to say that, I was upset. I had just talked to Lecter."

"Which you should have told me about immediately so we could have possibly caught him but you seem like you almost want to protect him."

Will forced his eyes away, closing his hands together as he leaned forward, resting elbows on knees. "That's.. quite a big accusation. One I expect out of Jack, but not out of my own wife.."

Molly hesitated before laying her hand on Will's shoulder. "Will. You need more help than what I can provide. Whatever happened between you and Lecter in Italy changed you."

"I love you." Will turned back towards her, looking at her earnestly. There was the taint of desperation seeping into the expression. "I love you, Molly, I don't say it enough, please... I love you and I love Willy and I need you with me."

"I know, Will." She laid her hand over his wrist. "I know you love me, its why this is so hard. I haven't come to any decision yet, but I need time apart from you. I need time with Willy and I need to be where I feel we're safest and that's not with you right now."

Will could feel everything slipping from his grasp. This was his fault, his mistakes piling up and coming back to bite him. He reached to brush her hair off her forehead, trying to force a smile. It didn't work. It crumbled the same way his marriage was crumbling. She tilted her head slightly into his touch, reaching to rest her hand on his chest.

"Don't fade away from me, okay? I don't want you to disappear." She slid her hand up and then wrapped her arms around Will's shoulders.

He closed his eyes, tucking his face against her shoulder. He didn't want to let her go, not when he needed her around the most. He felt betrayed on a deeper level. He'd put his trust into her and she was walking away from him, even if she hadn't come to the decision yet. It frustrated him that he'd let her in and she was choosing to walk back out.

Molly gave his sides a gentle squeeze and leaned back from him. She had to pull Will's arms free as she stood up. "Lets head back to the house, okay?"

Will didn't want to get up. His entire world was being flipped onto its head again and he wasn't sure he could deal with it alone. The problem was he had no one he could truly turn to. He didn't trust Alana like he used to and Jack was out of the question. Jimmy and Brian he hadn't spoken to in some time and all of his and Molly's friends were more Molly's friends.

He closed his hands into fists, tightness forming in his chest. He blinked hard, then pulled his glasses from his face. He passed his hand over his face and he swallowed the knot down.

"Will? Are you feeling alright?" Molly touched his shoulder.

"I feel like freshly shattered glass." His teeth clicked together as he forced himself to stop talking. He couldn't get upset here where everyone was watching him.

He tucked his glasses back onto his face before standing. He gave his blazer a sharp tug to adjust it on his shoulders before fishing the keys from his pocket, stepping past his wife to head out of the field office. His expression was stormy and his hands had a slight shake to them.

They had delayed inside with their conversation long enough that the escort was awaiting them in the lot as they stepped out. Molly was giving him a sidelong look, taking in his body language and expression.

"... Will, are you sure you want to drive?"

Will frowned, glancing at her. "I'm fine, why?"

Molly's hand was cooler than his. She touched his hand, drawing it towards her. "You're white knuckling the keys."

He pulled his hand away, feeling the emotion perching there in his throat. Her touch felt completely different. It was as if her words had twisted everything out of image.

"I can drive."

She looked unsure. She hesitated at the back of the car and Will stopped, turning to look at her. "Are you going to get into the car?"

"Will, you're upset. I know when you're upset."

"Oh, you can tell by my body language? Or is it from my wife telling me not five minutes ago she wants a divorce?"

Molly held up her hands. "Will, I didn't say divorce."

"Your explanation of why I'm bad for you implied it was a viable option at this point in our relationship." If Will were a child he might have been screaming how unfair the entire situation was. He was barely keeping himself from doing it as an adult.

"Can we wait until we get home? I don't want to start an argument and make our personal business everyone's business." Molly extended her hand. "Give me the keys. I'll drive. You're in no state to be driving."

Will tightened his hand around the keys until they were digging in painfully. He didn't want to give her the keys. It would be admitting to his weakness. The problem was that she was right and it wouldn't be safe. Yet another tally against Will in that department. He forced himself to hand the keys over and stepped around Molly to get into the passenger side.

The ride was tense. Will stared out the window, jaw tight as his teeth ground together. He was afraid of saying something that would make things worse, especially when all he wanted to do was scream. The silence was becoming oppressive but neither reached for the radio. Both were relieved when the house came into view.

Will was pulling his blazer off the moment he got out of the car. He felt overheated. It was Molly's suggestion to look at least presentable for Jack. It was certainly a fine presentation she was making to the people they knew. Displaying them as a happy couple, supporting one another when in reality she was leaving him.

He stepped into the house, forcing his way past the dogs. He pulled his glasses off and tossed them and the blazer onto the couch, where Farah trotted over to fetch the glasses for him. Will ignored her for the moment, rubbing his hands over his face.

"I'm going to pick up Willy from his friend's." Molly had followed him inside but didn't approach him.

"You said we could talk about this." Will focused on her, pointing at the floor. "I want to talk about this, I want to fix this."

Molly looked so uncomfortable. It set Will's teeth on edge that she was uncomfortable around him. She set the keys down on the side table and gave him her full focus. "What did you want to talk about, Will?"

"What-- I want to talk about our marriage, our apparently crumbling marriage. I want to know what I can do to fix this, what do you need from me, Molly?"

"I need stability, Will." Molly hated saying it. "I need a husband that... doesn't walk off in the middle of Florence when he knows he's in physical danger. That doesn't lie about phone calls from a serial killer who's threatning our family, my son."

It was the same argument Alana had given him, just with the added weight of an eleven year old boy.

"I thought I could catch Lecter. I thought I could end it in Italy. I made a mistake, Molly, it was a mistake, I'm suffering for it already."

Molly put her hand to her chest. "Do you think I haven't noticed? You drank yourself into oblivion for the first week you were here, you buried yourself in your work, your nightmares... You wake up covered in sweat every night!"

Will swept his arm towards the kitchen. "There's nothing to even drink! I stopped drinking! I have to work because I have to provide for you and Willy! If the nightmares are bothering you I'll sleep on the couch"

She shook her head. "If we still had alcohol you'd still be drinking it, Will. I didn't need you to provide for me, I needed you to get help. You were provided with a psychiatrist--"

"I hate psychiatrists, you know I hate being psychoanalyzed. I've had enough of it to last a life time, I don't want anyone else in my head."

"You already have someone in your head. Lecter is in your head." Molly put her hand through her hair. "You dream about that man, that murderer and you look so ashamed when you wake up and I know what your dreams are, I'm not stupid and that just makes everything worse, Will."

Will raised his brows, spreading his arms. "What are my dreams, Molly? Tell me. Its not like I experience them every night, the blood and the fear and the feeling of that... that man's hands on me."

"I know you dream of his hands on you, Will but those are certainly not nightmares."

Molly covered her mouth and took a step back after the words spilled out. Will dropped his hands, the hurt clear on his face. He sank down onto the couch and Farah set the glasses into his lap, still holding them. Will took them from her mouth before gently pushing her face away.

".... what do you want me to say..? Do you want me to deny it?"

"That would be a start. I'd like to know my husband isn't having an emotional affair with the same serial killer that tortured him." Molly hugged herself, her head shaking. "He's so far into your head that I don't think you even realize what you're doing... The dreams, the lies... You're unstable."

Will dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, teeth gritting together as he tried to keep himself under control. It was the same line Alana fed him. Too unstable to be with. Four years later and things were still the same.

"I'm not having an affair." He forced his hands down, sliding them over his thighs. "I really would like it if everyone stopped accusing me of having an affair with a serial killer."

"It might not be an affair, Will but he's under your skin." Molly picked up the keys. "I have to pick up Willy and then we're going to my parents. I want you to get help, Will. I want you to be happy."

"If you want me to be happy why are you leaving me?"

Molly grabbed the door handle. "Because I don't think you know how to be happy."

She pulled the door open and disappeared outside, shutting it firmly behind her. Will felt hollowed out and alone. He rested his hand on Farah's head as she set her's on his knee.

At least the dogs stayed with him.

Chapter Text

The whiskey burned down his throat. Will didn't bother with a glass. The dogs watched him from their bed as he paced the living room. He rubbed his hand against his neck, feeling the faint scar there. He should have died that night.

He tipped the bottle back into his mouth again as he went to the window, peering outside. The officer was still out there, waiting patiently for any trouble. Will was unimpressed with the police protection provided so far. They mostly followed him around and checked his home for him before he entered it.

He didn't want these people in his home every day. He didn't want his phone line tapped and he wanted his own cell phone, with the photos of his family on it, not this government issued piece of crap. He knew they were combing through the files on his phone, every photo. Some of those photos were private, for his eyes only. Now the FBI had them.

Will took another swig from his bottle before setting it down on his living room table. He sat down to pull on his boots before heading for the door. He needed to get out of here. He needed space from these watching eyes. The loneliness burned him every day. He had taken down the family photos, laying them across tables and counter tops face down. He couldn't look at them when his family was shattered.

He'd never thought he would have even wanted a family. He wasn't compatible with the concept of it and this was proof that it wasn't something that was meant for him. His thoughts had taken a dark route when Molly left, his anger twisting into something dangerous. He wanted to react but he couldn't. It turned inwards instead. He drank.

He picked up his keys and slipped out of the house. He tripped himself up a little stepping off the porch but he kept his feet as he went to his car. It was late, not a usual time that he would be going out, if he went out at all. He didn't wait for the officer to ask him where he was going, he just climbed into the car and went.

He glanced into his rearview as he picked his way through the streets, frowning. They were always there, right over his shoulder. He grit his teeth and focused on the road. He was a bit drunk after all.

The liquor store was where he went, the building looking unhospitable at night. He slid out of the car and glared at the officer as they pulled in next to him.

"Mr. Graham." he greeted. "Do you need me to come in with you?"

"I'm fine." Will held up both his hands as he passed the car. "I promise not to drink in the car."

He entered the store and glanced towards the windows.The inside of the building was poorly lit and filled with a variety of liquid vice. It was the store Will chose to frequent lately so that at least wasn't unusual. He stepped through the aisle, palming his cell phone. He opened the back of it and pulled the battery out before approaching the counter.

"Hey, my phone died." He held up the phone to prove it. "Is there any way I could use your's?

The clerk stepped to the other side of the counter and picked up the store phone, setting it where Will could reach it. "Dial nine first. And don't take all night."

Will stepped around to pick up the phone. He put it to his ear then closed his eyes. He needed to remember this number. The chances that anyone would answer was very slim. He just felt the need to try. It wasn't as if he had anyone else to turn to.

The phone rang in his ear. And rang. There was a soft click and then a mechanical voice telling him the number he was trying to call was not available and to leave a message after the tone. Will shook his head slightly.

"I don't know why I expected you to actually answer. This was a mistake." He hung up the phone and slid his hands over the counter. It was really as he should have expetced. He forced a slight smile at the clerk as he gave a nod of thanks as he went to browse. If he didn't come out with something then it might be seen as suspicious.

He was at the back of the store when the phone started to ring up front. He glanced over his shoulder before pulling a bottle off the shelf, reading the label. He was thinking of something a little different.

"Sir?"

Will turned, leaning to look up the aisle. The clerk held up the phone for him before setting it on the counter so Will could come and pick it up. Will set the bottle back on the shelf and strode up the aisle, trying to keep himself in check. He reached to pick up the phone and put it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Will. I didn't expect you to call."

Will felt his heart leap into his throat at the sound of Hannibal's voice on the line. He wasn't sure if it was fear or something else.

"If you didn't expect me to call why are you still holding onto a cell phone that could be tracked to where you are?"

Hannibal chuckled. "You have a fine point. I suppose one part of me hoped you would return my phone call when you had a more private moment. It's been over a week though, I worried that you had decided against it."

"My wife went to Jack Crawford about the phone call. They tracked where it came from and are waiting for you to call my home or cell phone." Will rubbed his forehead, fingers shaking. "Jack knows you called me.. he has me under police surveilance, my phone is tapped..."

"You sound very upset. Is that why you called me?"

"My wife left me. She says she needed to think and needed time apart but I know this is the beginning of the end. She says I'm unstable" Will hated spitting out the words. "Because you called me."

"I apologize if I made waves in your relationship, Will, but is there validity to her argument that you are unstable?"

Will grit his teeth. "...I haven't been feeling my best. My nightmares are worse... I threatened her..."

The clerk was glancing towards him, noticing how he was shaking. The man frowned and turned back to what he was doing. Will noticed him looking and he knew that his time on the phone would be cut short soon.

"Your name is Will Graham."

Will nodded, rubbing his fingers on his forehead. "I'm in Sugarloaf Key, Florida... its... 12:52 am."

"You have gone out of your way to contact me. Why is that?"

Will's brow furrowed, glancing towards the door. He didn't want to linger too long either.. It would be a bad thing to get caught on the phone when he had a phone at home that he should have been using.

"...You loved me at my worst." His voice was hoarse but calmer.

"Popular opinion is that I drove you to that point in the first place. If I couldn't love you in that state then I would be a very poor lover."

Will flinched and turned slightly, facing the wall a little more. "What was your goal..? To tear me down so I wouldn't see you for what you really are..?"

"I was curious. You were a fascinating subject, Will." There was a pause, and Hannibal cleared his throat. "I spoke the truth when I said the world would be less interesting with you in it."

"I'm your favorite broken little toy." Will tightened his grip on the phone. "What did you ever want from me, really?"

"I wanted you to accept yourself as the world saw you."

He shook his head, almost raising his voice but catching himself in time. "The world sees me as an unstable psychopath, Dr. Lecter and you know more than anyone that I'm not."

"You're something more beautiful than a drunk mad man"

"If I'm so beautiful to you then why do you continue to tear me apart?"

There was a soft chuckle. It made Will's hair stand on edge. "I only wish to free you of your well tailored person suit. You are above the people you protect, Will."

"But still below you." Will's voice was touched with bitterness.

"Are you lonely, Will?"

Will looked down at the counter, brow furrowing. ".... I have to hang up."

"You called me for more than a conversation."

The clerk was starting to look agitated. Will was taking too long. He was sure the strange snippets of conversation were bothering him as well.

"I'm trapped here." His voice sounded so tight, a thread of panic in it. The panic of a wild animal in a cage.

"Would you like me to free you?"

Will looked towards the door. He could sense his time was up. He needed to make a decision. He had a feeling he would be trapped either way. Jack would never let up. He would always see Will as an access point to Hannibal. Hannibal saw him as a piece of prized art, the type held under lock and key so no one would get the gumption to steal it.

"... Help me."

The other end of the line clicked as Hannibal hung up the phone. Will lowered his end back to the cradle, a little startled at the sudden end to the conversation. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to take it. There was a knot in his chest.

He stepped away from the counter and went to one of the aisles. He didn't look at the bottle he pulled from the shelf. He paid for it and the brown paper bag crinkled in his hand as he walked out of the liquor store.

The officer had gotten out of his car, now leaning against the hood. He was clearly anxious about Will's delay. Will nodded to him, holding up the bottle.

"Wanted a new poison, couldn't figure out what." Will went to his car to sink into it. He replaced the battery back into his government issued phone before pulling out of the parking lot.

Home wasn't as much a sanctuary as it once was. He let the dogs out and sat on his back porch, nursing his bottle of whiskey, his new bottle, which was apparently a rum, chilling in the refridgerator. The night was still. It left room for everything to sink in.

He took a long swig, eyes closing. He tilted back slightly as he drank, hoping he might choke on one of the swallows but he didn't. He lowered the bottle and set it on the porch beside him. He wished he had somewhere to go, some place to find sanctuary from his life.

"My name is Will Graham." He whispered out into the dark. The dogs turned to look at him, curious at what he was doing.

Will stood up off the porch, swaying as he leaned to take the bottle with him. He stepped off the porch, meandering out into the back yard. The dogs walked around him, following him down towards the little dock. Their nails clicked on the wood as they followed him out to the end of the short walk. Will laid down on the dock, staring up at the night sky.

The minutes ticked by, slowly turning into hours. Will only sat up to drink more, until the bottle was empty and his mind was flooded. He shifted to lay on the edge of the dock, peering down into the water. When he extended his hand his fingertips dipped in. He registered that it was cold but not much else from the night was clicking.

The dogs laid with him, Farah stretched out at his back. They were all content to lay outside for as long as Will was willing to. He eventually nodded off, though it was more of passing out, still precariously positioned at the edge of the dock.

There was a hollow clicking that cut into his foggy nightmares. He thought it was a ticking of the clock, eyes turning to look at Hannibal's watch. It seemed so loud, it was getting louder even. Between them was a woman's body, laid out, opened. Hannibal was smiling at him. The body was Molly.

"Will, you're going to fall off the dock."

Will opened his eyes with a soft moan. It was bright out. He wasn't sure when it'd gotten bright out. He was sore and stiff, and when he turned his head a dog started licking his face. He pulled his head away and pushed the muzzle back, looking around to find the source of the voice that had women him.

Standing over him was Alana Bloom, one hand on her hip, the other holding his mail.

"Surprise." She offered her hand to him to help him up. "Interesting place to sleep."

Will didn't take her hand, preferring to get up on his own. He bent and almost took a header when he picked up the nearly empty bottle of whiskey. He got his feet steady under him before glancing at Alana, looking mildly confused.

"What are you doing here?" He drank the last of the liquor as he walked past her. He paused and held out his hand, flicking his fingers to indicate he wanted his mail.

"Should you be drinking this early in the morning?" She didn't relinquish the letters, brow furrowed as she watched him.

"Does it really matter when I drink? Could I have my mail?"

Alana looked down at the letters. They were mostly bills. "Will, Molly asked me to come. She said you might need a friend right now. You know that she cares for you very much."

Will grew frustrated and he reached to snatch the letters out of Alana's hands. "I'm glad the two of you are so close."

He walked away from her, whistling for his dogs. They came running from various parts of the yard. He had to count them to make sure he had them all and found one to be missing. He turned, searching what he could see of the property, frowning.

"Alana, did you see.."

"She's out front with the officer." Alana reassured him as she approached. "Listen, Will, lets head inside and get you something to eat and then we can discuss things."

Will frowned, shaking his head. "What are you talking about, Alana? What are we discussing? Why are you even here, besides, obviously to check in on me. Because no one else has, I assure you."

She clasped her hands together in front of her before extending one finger to point towards the mail. "It may have already come."

He looked down at the letters. He glanced at herr again before turning to head towards the house. He dropped the empty bottle into the trash as he passed it, the dogs rushing to get in to find some food.

Will started to go to the cabinet but Alana caught him, putting her hand on his arm. "I'll feed the dogs. Why don't you sit down?"

"I can feed my own dogs, Alana."

"I know you can but I think you should sit down."

Will felt frustrated but he let it go, going to the living room. He stood over his little growing stack of letters that were left unopened and he started flipping through the newest mail. One letter stood out and he knew what it was before he opened it. The reason why Alana was here laid out in writing in his hands.

"She served me with divorce papers."

The rattle of dog bowls being filled drowned out his voice. The papers felt so final in his hands. Before it was just a possibility. He felt frustrated that he hadn't been given a chance to fix things. He felt frustrated that the last nail in his lonely coffin had been firmly hammered into place and they sent an old flame to set it alight.

Alana stepped out from the kitchen, pausing. She rested her hands on the back of a dining room chair, watching as Will read over the papers.

"How do you feel?"

Will let go of the papers and let them flutter down onto the table. He walked away from the table and back to the kitchen. He opened it and pulled out the paper bag he'd picked up last night and he cracked open the bottle inside.

"Will, maybe you should share what's going on instead of drowning yourself in alcohol."

"Last I checked my psychiatrist is a balding, impotent man by the name of Wake." He glanced over her. "You look nothing like him."

Alana crossed her arms, glaring slightly. "I'm asking as your friend. Not as your psychiatrist. That's why I'm here."

Will took a long drink, looking right at her as he did so. He lowered the bottle and motioned with it. "Well my wife left me. That's one thing that's wrong. I'm alone in this empty house. There's another thing that's wrong. The nightmares are a problem."

"Have you spoken to your psychiatrist about the nightmares? Molly said they've been prevalent for weeks now..." Alana tried to reach for the bottle, frowning when Will kept it away from her.

"What's there to tell?" Will stepped around her to go to the front door. He opened it and in came the missing dog. "Go get breakfast."

"Is this your plan? To drink the world away?" She reached out and grabbed Will's wrist, attempting to pull the bottle away. "Give me the bottle. Talk to me sober."

A dark look passed over Will's eyes, sending chills through Alana but she didn't relent. She freed the bottle from his hand and set it onto the side table. She reached up to cup Will's face, forcing him to look at her.

"What's going on in your head?"

Will stared at her, resenting her. He pulled his head away from her hand, taking a step back. "You should know how he gets into your head. How he settles in there like a cancer..."

"Will. My relationship with Lecter ended. He's no longer in my head. I accept what happened and what his intentions were with me and I moved on."

There was frustration in Will's eyes at Alana's reply. It wasn't the reply he wanted. He wanted to know someone else was as trapped as he was.

"Is Lecter in your head? Like Garrett Jacob Hobbs..?" Alana didn't reach for him again but he could see that she wanted to. There was worry there.

"Worse than Hobbs." Will rubbed his hand against his face, then into his hair. "Its like he's under my skin. Like I can feel him in my veins."

"What does that mean for you..? How is it making you feel?"

Will lowered his hands, opening and closing them into fists. "Like I don't know who I am any more. Like there's something just beneath the surface waiting to burst out."

Alana nodded and motioned for him to come and sit down. "Do you feel safe being alone or would you want to head up to the hospital? We can get you a seventy-two hour psychiatric hold if you are feeling afraid."

He sat down where she'd indicated and she sat beside him, resting her hand on his back. "I'll take care of your dogs. We can get you taken care of, Will. No one wants you to be alone."

"I don't feel like I'm a danger to myself." His teeth clicked together as he bit off the next words before they could come out. He felt like he might be a danger to others. If he said that Alana would have had him escorted out.

"You can tell me, any time, the moment you feel like things are getting out of control for you. That's why I'm here. I'll be here for as long as you need me to be."

Will turned his head to look at her. "What about your career...? Or is Jack paying you to keep me sane?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line. "Will, I told you I'm here as your friend. Jack has nothing to do with why I'm here, I promise you that." She squeezed his shoulder and stood. "I'm going to start breakfast for you. I expect you to enjoy it, I'm a far better cook than I used to be, I promise."

He nodded, watching her go. He heard footpads on the floor and Farah came trotting around to him. She hopped up into the place that Alana had vacated and gave Will the eyes. Will reached up to rub her ears gently.

"How would you like to live with Alana again, Farah..? Would that make you happy?" The other dogs were beginning to surround him, sitting. "She loves you guys."

The dogs clearly didn't understand what he was saying beyond the word Alana. They all stared at him, a couple walking partway towards the kitchen as if they intended on fetching Alana for him. Will smiled softly at them before nudging Farah off the couch.

He laid down and reached to rest his hand on her head, sighing. He knew what he needed to do to feel free again, to recover. He needed help so badly. He was begging Lecter for help. That alone was a severe indication that he was at the end of his rope.

Chapter Text

Will Graham went missing from a liquor store a week later. It wasn't as difficult as he expected it to be. He made a phone call from the check out and walked out the back. He walked four blocks and met with a cab and simply left.

At least, that was the witness accounts. Jack Crawford was frustrated that they had so little. Will Graham left a letter for Alana Bloom to take care of his dogs, as well as an apology and then was gone into the wind.

The officer that had been on duty that night was on suspension pending investigation. Not that there was much to investigate. Nothing had happened, there had been no contact from Lecter. Surveillance had naturally gone lax and this was the result. Jack was infuriated.

He also felt vidicated. This was what he expected. He has suspected Graham and Lecter being involved with each other for some time now as much as that fact hurt. He'd had such faith in the man and respect after Will had recovered over the years.

Jack had risked a lot putting Will back into the field. The fact that Will had almost immediately betrayed that trust should have been an indicator of where things were going. Jack should have been more cautious. He should have seen what was going to happen. Especially after Molly left him... where else was Will going to go?

Besides to Jack. Or to Alana. Jack had tried to provide that with Alana, some sort of landing pad as Will fell from his well crafted life. It seemed that Lecter had been the one to catch him though, much to everyone's dismay. Though so many of the staff had expected it in a way. The FBI no longer trusted Will Graham and this solidified it.

Jack stood in Will's house, watching as the crew went through it with a fine toothed comb. Trying to find ANYTHING that could lead them to where Will may have gone. The man had nothing on him. He'd taken out two thousand dollars from the bank and took off with just the clothes on his back. Even his phone had been left behind.

There was no way Will would survive for long on the run. He would have to come back, or at least withdraw more money. Then they would have him.

"Sir, Dr. Bloom is outside to see you." said one of the officers that were holding perimeter.

Jack nodded and stepped out, nodding again to Alana as he approached the police line. "Dr. Bloom.. Was there anything unusual about Will's behavior before this?"

Alana spread her hands. She looked at a loss herself. "He seemed depressed. Molly had just left him. He said he felt confined and under a lot of pressure. He always had a drink with him. He was definitely inebriated many times that we spoke."

"Did he indicate in any way that he'd been in further contact with Lecter?"

"No. No, when I asked him about Lecter he seemed almost disgusted. He refused to look me in the eye and his hands would shake. It was as if he was afraid of the conversation." Alana brought her hands together to ring them.

Jack didn't believe that Will was shaking because he was afraid of Lecter. He believed that Will was shaking because talking about Lecter was brushing too close to the topic of his escape.

"Jack, Will was in a lot of pain when I last saw him.... If he's gone after Lecter I doubt it was out of any affection."

"There's one problem with that theory, Alana..." Jack held up one finger, his head shaking slightly. "No one knows where Lecter is. He took nothing with him that implied he was intending on being away for very long. He must be meeting with Lecter somewhere, he must be...."

Alana frowned, crossing her arms. "Or he's an intelligent man who knows how to leave crumbs towards the wrong path. He could have withdrawn the money to make you think he was running off.... He could be deeply suicidal and doing everything in his power to make sure your focus is on combing through his home to search for signs of Lecter's touch instead of looking for him."

Jack frowned at that thought. "Was he suicidal when he spoke to you?"

"Like I said, he was despressed. He had a lot of things going wrong in his life. He's attempted to commit suicide before, remember?" She indicated her throat, reminding Jack of the scar on Will's neck.

"That was his report of what happened." Jack reminded back. Lecter could have just as well cut Will's throat, though not letting Will bleed out was unusual. He was taken aback by her theory though and he turned to beckon a few officers over.

"I need you to check waterways. Check trees, back alleys, anywhere rural. We need to confirm Will Graham isn't on this island any more." He turned to look at Alana. "I'm not sure if I want you to be right. Either way, its not looking good for Will."

"Just find him, Jack. If he's suicidal then he needs help, as soon as possible... if he's with Lecter.. Then maybe you can finally catch him." There was a little anger in her voice on the last few words. She wanted Lecter caught for personal as well as professional reasons.

Chapter Text

He could only hear the sound of his own blood in his ears. . The smells were of carpet cleaner, of dusty plastic plants. The walls yellow. It was a soft yellow but it seemed to leap out at him. He pressed his back to the wall beside the door, eyes closing briefly.

The sound of a key entering the door made his eyes fly open. He watched the door swing towards him as Hannibal Lecter stepped into the room. The man walked in and looked left, right, but not behind, not fast enough.

The knife dug against Hannibal's back and he lifted his hands. He turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder.

"....Hello, Will."

Will was shaking. His shirtsleeves were rolled and there was sweat on his brow. He had a determined look in those blue eyes. Hannibal was looking at him so cooly, as if this entire display was beneath him.

"Are you intending on killing me?"

"Get inside." Will pushed him forward with the tip of the knife, urging Hannibal further into the room. "Get on your knees."

"Is this why you called me?" Hannibal stepped forward as he was urged. He didn't go this knees though. He remained standing, head still turned to try and see Will.

"Its not my fault you came." Will shot right back. "I said get on your knees."

Hannibal looked forward again, weighing his options. Will pressed the tip harder against the fabric of Hannibal's blazer. He wanted the man to listen to him, to do as Will said instead of the other way around. Will wanted the control. No, he had the control, this was his moment to lose.

"I must applaud you. I did not expect you to threaten my life when you called me here. If I had known I would not have bothered to leave the phone in service."

"I said--"

Hannibal turned rapidly, one arm sweeping down and across against the knife wieldling wrist and the other moving to strike Will in the throat. He changed his decision, instead grabbing Will by the front of his shirt and driving Will backwards.

Will gasped as his back was slammed against the door and he attempted to swing the knife in. Hannibal's hand was sliced as he reached out to grab at it, forcing Will's hand down. He invaded Will's space, ignoring Will's grasping fingers against his shoulder.

The control was lost so quickly. It sent Will's head reeling.

"If you intend to kill me then you need to do better than that." Hannibal's voice was a rumble in his throat, his head tilting as he leaned closer to the panting Will. "Why are you here, Will?"

"To kill you." Will spat back.

Hannibal twisted his collar, forcing Will harder against the wall. "Don't lie to me. If you were here to kill me you would have killed me after I stepped into the room."

"I wanted to make it slow." Will's voice trembled in his throat. Where was his resolve?

"Such a vindictive side to you, Will. I thought we had come to a comfortable understanding with one another." Hannibal twisted Will's wrist slowly, trying to force him to loosen his grip on the knife. "Has that changed..? Should I consider you a threat now?"

Will's breathing was hitching in his throat. His grip loosened on the knife and it clattered to the floor. He attempted to swing with his other fist but Hannibal's hand moved from his collar to his upper arm, cutting the movement off.

"Should I kill you tonight, Will? Is that the truth behind why you're here?"

Will was afraid. He shouldn't have come here. He shouldn't have drawn Hannibal out of his hiding. Will felt sweat rolling down his hot neck, sticking his shirt to his body.

"You asked me to help you."

"You hung up on me." Will's voice was unsteady and thick. "You left me alone."

Hannibal lifted his eyes to Will's, who turned his eyes away quickly. "You left me first, in Italy. You chose your wife over me... and now that she's left you, you are free to take your second choice."

Will closed his eyes. His body trembled under Hannibal's hands. Blood dripped to the carpet from the cut, staining Will's and Hannibal's sleeves. Hannibal's breath was on Will's neck, taking in deep breaths. The proximity caused goosebumps to rise over Will's skin.

"You have a fever."

"I came here to kill you." Will whispered in response. He swallowed, trying to push back. "I want to kill you."

Hannibal pressed his lips against Will's throat, against the scar that Will had put there himself. Will pushed back, but it was weak. He didn't have the energy to push back. His resolve was crumbling.

"Are you convincing yourself of that.. or are you telling me..?" Hannibal let his lips brush Will's skin.

"I'm going to kill you." Will said, but there was no firmness to it. His intentions were weak. He couldn't lose his resolve now that he had the chance.

Hannibal stepped back, putting distance between the two of them. "Then kill me, Will. If that is what you truly want."

Will stayed against the door. His eyes flickered to the knife on the floor. Hannibal was giving him the chance. The wheels were turning, his thoughts clinking almost audibly in the silence of the room. Will could end the chase tonight, end the cat and mouse game that had linked them together for so many years.

"Dr. Lecter..." Will was shaking. His voice was unsteady. There was a hitch in his breathing.

"You have already chosen what life you prefer. That life has rejected you, as it always has. As I expected. Your choice to live in a world of normalcy has left you alone once again." Hannibal's voice was steady. It was always steady. "You will always be left alone if you continue to pursue a world that does not want you."

Will shook his head. He'd lived comfortably for years before dealing with Lecter again. It was always Hannibal that threw him off track, it was always this man that put him to ruin. If they'd never met, Will would have had a happy life, he was certain of it.

"And now you have walked away from that world. You have come to me. Even if that was not your intention that is how it will be perceived. Jack Crawford is sure to have you arrested. They will have you analyzed and examined." Hannibal tilted his head. "They will lock you away."

"If I kill you I could go back." Will wanted to reassure himself but Hannibal's words spoke truth. Jack would consider him an accomplice.

"A state hospital awaits you if you go back, regardless of how much of my blood you stain your hands with."

Will felt lost. Hannibal was coming towards him and he pressed his hands back against the door, his head turning away. He couldn't look the man in the eye. Not now, maybe not ever again. He closed his eyes.

Hannibal reached to take Will's chin in his hands, turning the former agent's face towards him. "Will. Why have you really come here? Why have you sought me out?"

Will swallowed, keeping his eyes closed. He didn't say anything. Hannibal tightened his grip on the man's chin, digging his fingers in.

"Do you love me, Will?" Hannibal stepped closer, invading Will's space. Their bodies were touching, hips pressing together. He could feel what Will wanted to hide from him. It was a delicious victory...

That was short lived as a smaller pocket knife was plunged into his side. Will wished the blade was longer, wished Hannibal didn't wear so many layers. Had he pierced skin? He didn't know, he just plunged the knife in again. This was his chance to be free.

Hannibal grasped Will by the throat and drew him back from the door. He dragged the younger man back, even as the younger man was driving the knife back into Hannibal's side. He turned and threw Will to the floor, sending the smaller man to the thin carpet.

Will scrambled to get a hold of the knife again until a kick swung into his ribs. He gasped with the pain, feeling ribs bend under the strike. He couldn't get air into his lungs. Hannibal was stepping over him, kicking the little knife further away then he was turning, swinging another hard kick into Will's head.

Will saw stars, his skull screaming at him.

Another blow between his shoulders sent him skidding forward on the carpet and he almost vomited. The violence was out of Hannibal's character. He expected one blow to control him, but the multiple blows was indicating a possible violent end for him. He braced his hands against the floor and tried to push himself up, only to have his arm kicked out from under him.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Will." Hannibal stepped around him, leaning to pick up both knives from their places on the floor. "I thought we had reached an understanding with one another."

Will trembled, trying to curl one leg beneath himself. He could wedge his knee against the floor and attempt to stand. He wanted to stand when he died, even if Hannibal would most likely drive him back to the floor.

"Why have you come here, Will?"

When Will didn't reply it earned him a hand in his hair, dragging him up to his knees. Pain lanced through his skull and he gasped, swallowing back a sound.

"What are your intentions?"

"Kill me." Will ground out. "Its what you've wanted to do, isn't it?"

Hannibal twisted the dark curls, his lip curling slightly. It was a show of anger. Will felt a small victory in breaking the smooth facade. Hannibal released his hair, reaching up to adjust his blazer. The shallow stabs didn't seem to bother the man.

"When you die is up to me, Will. It isn't your decision. I thought that was clear."

Will was swaying on his knees, bleary eyes watching Hannibal. He would most likely have a concussion. The welt was already forming and the way he was breathing was betraying the damage to his ribs. He was dizzy. He gulped in air.

"If you wanted to die, you could have committed suicide in the safety of your own home, surrounded by your pack of dogs." Most likely to not have been found for some time, now that he lived alone.

Will lifted a hand to press against his bruised ribs. Possibly cracked if Hannibal had struck him hard enough in his rage. "Why would I deny you the pleasure..?"

Hannibal stepped closer. He reached to brush Will's hair from his forehead. The touch was so different now, gentle and coaxing. "Do you love me, Will?"

Will shook. He looked up at Hannibal, remembering this touch. He opened his mouth as if to speak but the words died on his lips. His eyes drifted to the side, to the red light coming from the side table.

".... my name is Will Graham... Its 4:44 pm... I'm in Ontario, Canada.."

"Will."

"Is that what you want to hear?" The voice that whispered it was shaking and broken.

Hannibal shed his blazer, tossing it aside onto the bed. He rolled his sleeves slowly, watching Will swaying there. He approached the younger man and he grabbed Will by the throat, forcing his head up. Will stared at him with glassy eyes, the fear showing. Hannibal let go of his throat and slapped him firmly across the face.

Will turned to the side, pressing one hand to the floor. He swallowed and curled his fingers against the threadbare carpet. He forced his head back around, though didn't meet Hannibal's eyes. He didn't want to fold to the abuse.

"Do you love me, Will Graham?"

"You repel me, Dr. Lecter."

Hannibal grasped a handful of Will's hair and brought his knee up under Will's chin. Teeth clicked together and blood erupted from a bitten tongue. Hannibal kept his grip, giving a hard tug to drag Will across the floor by the dark curls. Will was forced to crawl after him or else be literally dragged.

"Get up."

Will shied away as far as he could pull himself, his eyes turning away. Blood dripped from between his lips and he could feel Hannibal's eyes on him. He should have stabbed Hannibal when he had the chance. Between the shoulders. In the back of the neck. Perhaps slit his throat...

".... will you kill me now... that you're not getting what you want?"

Hannibal released Will's hair and grabbed Will by the collar, giving him a yank. He shoved Will back onto the bed, only to have Will attempt to stand again, hands shooting out to try and push Hannibal out of the way.

Wrists were grabbed and forced back. Will was unsteady with the bed against his knees, keeping them at a slightly bent angle. He was losing his balance and he knew he didn't want to be forced down onto that bed.

"No. No."

Hannibal released one of Will's wrists to slap him across the face, sending droplets of blood across the cheap coverlet. A hand on Will's chest forced him back. Hannibal loomed over the thinner man, stepping closer to him as he forced Will's knees to part. Will pressed his knees back in, blocked by Hannibal's hips. Panic was striking him harder than Hannibal's hand.

Will's chest rose and fell in a panicked pant. His head was turned away, eyes staring towards the door. He needed to fight back, he needed to run for the door and never look back but then Hannibal would always be out there, capable of reigniting the conversation between them at any time.

The only sound between them was Will's breathing, heavy and rapid. Hannibal reached to press his hand against Will's forehead, feeling the fever. The hand pushed hair out of the way, before hooking behind Will's head. Hannibal pulled Will up, leaning forward to meet him half way.

Their lips met and the kiss was cold. Will didn't respond to the lips against his, eyes squeezing shut. He didn't want to be kissed. The blood mingled betwen their saliva. The taste of it caused Will's stomach to turn and he shoved Hannibal's shoulders.

Hannibal broke the kiss, and Will found his dark eyes. He'd come here to kill Hannibal. That had been his intention. To end everything and then go back home to whatever broken mess he had left. He would most likely be locked away in a mental home for the rest of his days but that was his lot.

"I wanted to kill you." Will's voice was hoarse.

"You failed." Hannibal's voice was cold

Will twisted his hands in Hannibal's shirt, pulling the older man towards him. He bared his teeth, red lining his gums. The taste of blood in his mouth mingled with the taste of his former doctor.

"They left me."

"Yes." Hannibal reached up and twisted Will's hands free. He pressed Will back onto the bed, pinning his wrists. "But I have not."

Will shuddered, feeling the loss of control sinking into him. It almost felt like a relief to be returned to this state. Almost. Then the panic sank into his very bones and he bucked upwards, trying to throw Hannibal off.

Hannibal pressed his weight forward, using his heavier frame to overpower Will. Will wasn't giving up, jerking his head forward to meet Hannibal's teeth. It rattled Will's skull and split Hannibal's lip.

The doctor struck Will across the face again before grasping him around the throat. Will scrabbled at the large hands encompassing his throat, before one reached up to dig nails into Hannibal's cheek. Black spots started to invade his vision, Hannibal becoming blurry.

He kicked out, grabbed at Hannibal's hands, tore at the man's face. His fingers came away with ripped hair but still Hannibal was relentless, squeezing the life out of him.

He blacked out, the world going silent with his last thought being terror.

His first thought as he woke was also fear, sucking in air. His arms were pulled over his head, tied tightly with Hannibal's necktie. His rotator cuff burned, his back throbbed. When he looked down he saw the growing bruises on his bare chest and the belt that held his ankle securely to the bottom post of the bed.

He was bared to the world and Hannibal was standing over him, the long knife in his hand.

"Dr. Lecter." Will felt the cold knot in his chest tightening.

"You've been very rude to me, Will. I came at your call and this is how you chose to behave."

Will couldn't deny that truth. He knew that it meant punishment to be rude. He knew if he lost control of the situation he would have to face it.

"Do you love me, Will? " The knife tip pressed against Will's abdomen, just below his sternum. "Or do I repel you? "

Will arched his back, pressing against the blade before jerking his arms and his leg, fighting against the binds. He looked up at the patterned silk and jerked hard, twisting his wrists raw.

"Will."

"No. No. I can't, Dr. Lecter ... Hannibal. I can't. " This had been a mistake. He should have stayed in Sugar Loaf, put his life back together. Or just let himself rot.

Hannibal's hand rested on Will's forehead, pushing the hair back. "Tell me why you can't. "

Will turned his head away. He pulled again at the tie. The tip of the knife pressed harder against his abdomen, the skin starting to split.

"What.. what do you want me to say? " Every breath pushed against the knife.

"I want you to say how you feel."

"I'm afraid." Will choked out. What else could Hannibal want to hear? It was how he felt. Helpless in the man's presence. Always at his mercy.

Hannibal clucked his tongue at him and stroked Will's cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Will..."

Will turned his head back, looking up at Hannibal. "Why didn't you help me? I called you for help..."

Another cluck of the tongue. "Dear Will, what reason did I have to help you when you walked away from me?"

The hand slid back up into the dark hair, stroking it gently. The knife lifted away and Hannibal smiled. "Do you trust me, Will? "

Will gulped in air now that the threat of the blade was gone. He shook, head throbbing, body groaning its discontent. He wanted to shake his head no. Hannibal had just beaten him and tied him to the bed.

The hand was still stroking through his hair, a soothing touch. He felt his breathing starting to slow, his eyes burning as he stared up at Hannibal.

"Answer my question."

Will nodded quickly at the sharp tone, even as he twisted his wrists and pulled at his bound leg. If he agreed then perhaps Hannibal would release the bonds.

"I don't believe you." Hannibal leaned down, placing a warm hand on Will's chest, fingers curling into his hair. "But I will."

Hannibal let Will go and stepped away from him. He readjusted his clothing and looked back at Will. "If you trust me you will remain quietly in this room until my return. When I return I will take you to a safe place, and we will remain with one another."

Will sucked in a breath, swallowing the air down as he watched Hannibal walking away from him, readying to leave. He was tied supine and bared to the world, to anyone that came into this room and he couldn't free himself. If Hannibal left him here he woud have no choice but to scream for help. His dignity would take a blow.

"I trust you.... I trust you. Don't go."

Hannibal smiled at him and he stepped out of the room. Will closed his eyes when the door clicked shut. It was a few hours, he knew it would just be a few hours. A lesson in humility for being rude, for attempting to kill Hannibal.

A few hours changed to a day. A day turned into a few days. Every day he could hear housekeeping calling in the hallways. There must have been a do not disturb on the door to his room.

A scream perched beneath his chin whenever he heard them. His tingling fingers gripped into fists and he trembled from the chill in the room. He was starving and dehydrated. His fever grew and the sheets were damp with his sweat. All he had to do was scream.

He felt the stub of his ring finger. Every breath he felt the pain in his ribs and his headache wouldn't fade. Everything was a reminder of Hannibal's wrath. So why did Will continue to incur it?

The fever became worse. Shadows as the sun set became fear inducing. His body was starting to fail him and he started to fear losing his life in this little room, abandoned.

Then the door opened on the fifth day. Will was delirious and unsure if he really heard the door open. He stared towards the clock, squinting at the red lights. A hand rested against his forehead, cool and welcoming.

"Tell me your name."

Will swallowed, his tongue feeling thick. "... Will Graham.. its.. 8:38 pm..."

That hand used two fingers to tip Will's face up, turning it towards the shadowed face looming over him.

"Do you love me, Will...?"

Will swallowed, his throat sticking. "I think I'm dying...."

The mattress dipped under the weight of the shadow, the cool hand sliding down to rest on Will's chest over his heart. His heart beat heavily in his chest, his chest rising and falling in weak, reedy breaths.

"I don't want to die." Will's voice was a whisper.

The shadow leaned over him and pressed a cool kiss to his forehead. Will closed his eyes at the touch. The lips moved against his skin, the fingers curling on his chest.

"Do you love me?"

Will shivered, hands relaxing. They tingled so badly, feeling icy. He nodded slowly, murmuring in response. "Yes.. Yes, I love you."

He felt the smile against his forehead and he smiled back. He felt relieved after the words fell out of his mouth. He felt the hand lift from his chest and the tie around his wrists was loosened. He left his arms lying over his head. The hand slid down the length of his body and down his leg to free the belt from Will's ankle.

Will felt the weight leave the bed and he heard the sound of cloth rustling. There was was a hiss of leather and the soft sound of a zipper. The moon wasn't high enough to cast enough light into the room. It was just the red light of the clock.

"Hannibal?"

The bed dipped again and Will's legs were pulled open. His hips were pulled down until he felt the warmth of someone else's skin. He was touched, coaxed into arousal, his body growing taut. His head was spinning.

Their bodies met and coupled and Will twisted the blankets between his hands. He felt his stomach tightening from the lack of food and his head reeling from dehydration and fever. He didn't want to stop the encounter, the firm hands holding his legs indicating that there wasn't going to be a no allowed at this point.

He was coaxed to completion soon after Hannibal and the heavier body pressed down onto him. Will slowly lowered his arms, resting them around Hanniba's shoulders loosely. He felt filled and overheated. Sweat stuck their skin together.

Hannibal brushed his fingers gently against both of Will's cheeks before he sat back again. He touched Will's chest then leaned forward again. His hands closed around Will's throat and he squeezed.

Will grunted, his fingers digging into Hannibal's shoulders. He couldn't breathe. He grasped at Hannibal's face. His eyes were wide and staring in the dark, blurred only by the water that flowed from them, back into his hair.

The moon had risen and cast a cold light over the two of them. There was a darkness in Hannibal's shadowed eyes. It was a look Will had never seen directed at him before.

He held Hannibal's gaze, legs tightening around Hannibal's waist. He pushed a hand into Hannibal's hair, brushing it off his forehead in a petting gesture usually reserved for Will.

His eyes closed and the world melted away from him.

Chapter Text

Jack sipped the glass of wine, listening to the music playing. Classical, of course. He had gray spotting through his hair far more now, looking like a light had slipped from his life. That light was his wife, of course. The cancer had finished its dirty work and left him with the empty shell that was Bella's corpse. He had her buried, all friends and family at her side. His focus on work was fierce from there.

Forever searching for the one that got away. He watched Clarice Starling blossom into a star, one that he hoped would burn brighter than his. One that he hoped would streak across this black sky and land like a meteor to destroy whatever precious life that was the Chesapeake Ripper's hidden life, wherever that may be. Idle thoughts from a man that retired before he could complete that promised mission.

And here he stood, Italy, gazing at art with a warm smile because this was what Bella would have enjoyed. They had met here, in Italy. Fallen in love, become a couple others envied. Yes, it was a fond memory, to hear those other voices calling Bella, Bella! It brought a chuckle and a small head shake.

"I see you still hold a fondness for the land of your courtship."

Jack felt his heart drop. It became ice before it landed and he turned his head to the man who had come silently up beside him. Worse memories surfaced of pouring over those files, searching every lead, digging and digging and coming up with nothing and now, when he was retired...

"Dr. Lecter."

Hannibal had a few more wrinkles to his features. Crows feet near his eyes that crinkled when he smiled at Jack. His hair had lost some of that copper undertone, replaced with streaks of silver. And a beard, of all things. Neatly trimmed, well speckled with white. He looked his age yet ageless at the same time, just by his bearing alone. He carried himself with the same cool strength that he always had.

"Jack. It is good to see you. And here of all places." The man--the monster, really, continued to smile, turning his eyes back to the painting that Jack had stopped in front of. "I see you are fond of the Rape of Persephone. Do you know of the story, behind the imagery?"

Jack was sickened by how casually Hannibal spoke, as if they were simply friends truly catching up after so many years. He forced his eyes to turn and look upon the painting. He was hardly fond of it. The imagery was dark, cruel. It was irritatingly fitting for the situation now, he thought.

"I do. Hades came upon Persephone and found her so beautiful that he needed to have her. So he robbed her from her mother and forced her to be a captive. Held her as a slave until she finally broke. It seems rather similar to your own story, Dr, Lecter..."

Jack's voice carried a heavy note of ice. Hannibal seemed to barely notice it. He continues a humored smile as he sips his wine, shaking his head slightly. Jack found little humor in the situation, turning, so he could face the man more head on, snarling at him.

"What is the point of this? To gloat? That you are still free, after all the effort I put in to catching you?"

"Actually, I was hoping to extend my heartfelt condolences. I heard about your wife. A true gift was taken from this world, and I regret--"

"ENOUGH." Jack's voice rang, causing some attention but when his voice dropped so did the eyes of others. "I don't want to hear another word about my wife come from your lips. This is the life you regret? After every other life? Abigail Hobbs. Georgia Madchen, Donald Sutcliffe, Beverly Katz, Freddie Lounds, I could name them all if I could!"

There was tension there, a deeper hurt. One that reflected something else, a long lost regret. Guilt was there, trembling at his lips. Hannibal watched every note of emotion over the man's lips.

"Will Graham...?" The doctor offered after a moment.

"Will Graham." Jack said flatly. There was such a deep rage there, overwhelming shame. He understood when he found the crime scene the truth of everything. The state of the bed, obviously used for prolonged suffering. Blood. A butchering had happened. Will Graham was gone, Jack had known. Hannibal had feasted on his prize after twisting everything away from the man.

Hannibal had the audacity to smirk, looking back at the painting before tilting his head, indicating they should walk.

"Have you heard the true story behind Hades and Persephone, Jack?" He lifted the wine, so red, breathing it in before taking a sip. "Historically, the word 'rape' meant to steal. And in Grecian times, a man that wished to marry a woman would play at 'stealing' her from her rooms. Carrying her into the night, under the permission of the father. The god Zeus himself, in this matter... God blessed this union."

"Is there a point to this story?" Jack's voice was sharp, interrupting.

The man before him was unperturbed, smiling again with patience.

"Hades swept Persephone into the underworld, bringing winter upon the land. Of course, the mythology taught in schools focuses on the sadness of the mother Demeter... never making a glance to Persephone. You see, in reality, she became the queen of that dark place. More feared than her husband, so feared that her name soon was unspoken by those fearing her wrath. Hades, you could say.. elevated her. Gave her true meaning, showed her the true potential of herself."

Jack was older. Less sharp. Had he been younger, he thought, as a knife slipped into his femoral artery, eyes so wide. Blood coursed down his leg, hidden against the black of his slacks. He was sinking down, held up by a bit younger of a man, one with a clean shaven face and blue eyes that were like glaciers in a storm.

"You were right, Jack." The cool hand brushed the backs of fingers against Jack's face.

Jack stared at that face as it moved away from him, the world beginning to darken around the edges. Eyes were meeting his, but there was something missing from them, while at the same time....

Jack though he'd never seen Will look so confident, so... stable than in this moment. At least he could rest knowing that all those years of therapy paid off in the end.