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"Go ahead," the guard said, seated in his chair. Gripping the rolled up papers in his hands, Will Graham slowly made his way to the center of the dark, chilling room. He looked around at the high walls and to the cage-like cell he approached, and in his mind he suddenly questioned his decision to come. The persistent part of Will persuaded him that he could successfully obtain some more information from Dr. Lecter, yet a small part of him urged him away from the very thought of the killer. Dr. Lecter sat turned away from him, immersed in a light book as Will set the drawings down along with his case files. "Thought you would want these," he said casually, taking a subtle step back. "You smell nice today, Will. Did you do that just for me?" he teased. "Or did Jack Crawford send you?" he asked coolly, not taking his eyes from a page. Will suddenly felt braver: "No, I decided to come, myself," he responded with little thought. To Will's surprise, Dr. Lecter briefly put down the book in front of him and turned to face Will, his dark eyes finding Will's immediately from behind his pale-blond fringe.
"People will say we're in love," he said, eyeing Will thoughtfully. Will's eyes widened slightly behind his glasses and he found his words caught back in his throat. "I suppose you're here to berate me with more questions," the doctor said, breaking the silence. "The Chesapeake Ripper is claiming more victims rapidly and we aren't close enough to help, Doctor," Will said quickly. "Now, in our past sessions, you have mentioned a connection between the two of you. Maybe you could elaborate-"
"The time is ticking on Abigail Hobbs. Is it not, Will? Yet, you are nowhere near helping the poor girl," Dr. Lecter interrupted. "Does this worry you? Does Abigail haunt your dreams at night, begging for release from her prison?" he asked in his accented tone. Will stood terrified behind the bars of the doctor's cell, his mind spinning to catch up to Dr. Lecter's words. He didn't want to admit to himself that the doctor was right. "If you could just tell me his name, Dr. Lecter," he began, starting to sound desperate. Dr. Lecter acted as if nothing had come from Will's mouth and carried on. "Why did you run away from the ranch when you were just a boy, Will?" he inquired. "I just did," Will responded, not wanting to elaborate any further. "Come on, now. We both know that's not true," the Doctor replied. After a brief silence, Dr. Lecter leaned close to Will and whispered,"Quid pro quo." He then slowly leaned back to his original position, looking satisfied.
Gulping, Will settled with the fact that there was no other way to proceed. He began to speak very slowly and quietly, "Well, one night I was woken up by some strange, loud whining noise coming from outside. It sounded like screaming. Someone, or something, crying for help." He stopped and took a deep breath. "What was it?" Dr. Lecter questioned. "I went outside to find where the noise was coming from, and I saw a large man standing above a small, cowering figure and beating down on it with his fists," he said, shakily. Will's eyes drifted into nowhere as Dr. Lecter succeeded to intrude upon the most private recesses of his mind. Dr. Lecter interjected again,"What did you do then?". "I ran between the man, who appeared to be my uncle, and the poor thing he was assaulting. It was a thin, dirty dog holding a piece of bread in its bleeding mouth. My uncle must have seen it trying to steal and attacked it. He did have...anger issues," Will breathed, "I grabbed the dog and ran." Dr. Lecter smiled. "Where were you going, Will?" Will continued weakly, "I didn't know. I just thought that...maybe I could save the dog. Maybe I could do something right for once." "Did you save the dog?" the doctor asked. "No," Will said, "it was too dark and I couldn't see where I was going, so naturally I got lost. It was so cold. I never would have made it. My uncle was so angry when he found me with the dog that he sent me away to another family. I never saw the ranch again." Dr. Lecter stayed silent for the first time, and then questioned, "What happened to your dog, Will?” "He shot it," Will choked, sadly. "My uncle shot it."
Hannibal looked into Will's eyes in an analytic and almost loving way. "Do you still hear the yelping dog at night, Will?" he asked in a way that sounded as if he were stating a fact. "Do you think that if you can save Abigail Hobbs, the dog will stop crying?” "I...I don't know," Will replied. Dr. Lecter's slight smile faded as his eyes drifted past Will. "Dr Chilton, how nice of you to join us," he said. Will turned around to see Dr. Frederick Chilton advancing towards him with an entourage of guards. "Time's up, Graham. We got direct orders," Chilton said. "From whom?" Will retorted. Two guards gripped Will's upper arms and tried to usher him away. "Irrelevant," Chilton said back. Will quickly turned to Dr. Lecter: "His name, Dr.! What's his name?!" Dr. Lecter rose gracefully from his seat and faced Will. "You will tell me when the dog stops crying, won't you, Will?" he asked calmly. The guards turned Will around and Chilton lead them out of the room. "Will, wait!" Dr. Lecter shouted. "Your case files," he said, holding them out through the bars. Breaking free of the guards' grips, Will ran back to the doctor's cell and found himself face-to-face with the mysterious man. Will reached out the grab the files, and as he did he felt Dr. Lecter's finger caress over his own. He looked up and stared into the doctor's eyes. "Goodbye, Will," he said with a smile.