Chapter Text
He was giving Winston a bath on his front porch when a car pulled up the long, gravel driveway. The rest of the pack started a commotion as none other than Jack Crawford pulled up, exiting the convertible with the engine still running. It was telling enough that this wasn’t a friendly visit.
Winston’s head twisted in the direction of the new person, sitting in the lukewarm water with soapy fur, Will’s equally soapy hands continuing to massage the scentless suds into the dog’s coat.
“I will never understand how you get those dogs to sit still long enough to actually clean them.” Jack said as a greeting, the FBI agent forgoing the formality of small talk. It was a good thing Will wasn’t one for it either, else he might’ve found it rude.
“That’s exactly it. An understanding.” Will offered back, pouring the clear liquid over Winston to finalize his bath. The dog stood and shook the moisture out of his fur, exiting the small tub that the empath put down for the water. Suds drifted around in the water like lazy clouds on a warm summer day, a vortex of bubbles slowly disappearing into the browned liquid.
Will grabbed a towel and started to dry the last dog down as he waited for the agent to start debriefing him. As if on cue, Jack started to explain their situation.
“There is a Lithuanian noble coming to Baltimore for a gala. We’ve been asked to keep an eye on him.” The man watched as the younger male rose from his crouching position, not quite meeting Jack’s gaze but addressing him all the same.
“Well, good for him… but what’s that got to do with the FBI?” The brunette grumbled, not liking where this was going. A deep sigh from Winston made the professor look down, seeing his dog pawing at the front door. As soon as the white screen door was open, the dog dashed inside to join the rest of the pack who had all settled when they saw who was visiting.
“It’s our business because he was suspected of murder. An anonymous tip has revealed that he might not be as innocent as he claims, but they need some sort of evidence.” Jack hands the file over and Will hesitantly takes it.
A pile of cases fall out as soon as he opens the file, his eyes widening a fraction at the manner of the killings. The mutilations of the bodies are so similar, yet so different. It was beautiful, an artform the killer prided himself on and perfected as he made these mundane people into a truly divine sight. Flowers, antlers, blood… they were all materials that were necessary to the transformation.
A quick look into the notes tells Will that various organs have gone missing from the victims in no particular pattern. The empath could already feel the blood lust and pride seize his bones, leaking into his open mind as he delved into each victim’s case with care.
As the last victim came around, the man grafted into a tree, Will felt a deep connection to this particular one. Such art and devotion was commendable, but to do it time and time again deserved recognition.
“Tell me.”
Lapis eyes opened, the empath trying to pull himself back. Stitching his brain back together, Will handed the file back over and pinched the bridge of his nose as he sewed the last of his mentality together.
“He… hates the rude.”
Jack paused in his own reviewing of the case file and gave the man a once over. His posture was hunched and face pinched as his eyes flicked back and forth behind his eyelids. The FBI agent watched as the brunette lifted his head, sapphire eyes a bit unseeing when he finally revealed them. It made the man hesitate to keep asking so much of the empath, but it was between one mans’ mental health and hundreds of lives.
“That’s it? That’s… so simple.” The ravenette hummed, tucking the file under his arm. Brown waves crash against each other in an unruly mess when the blue eyed man turned his head in Jack’s direction. His gaze was as hard as diamonds, able to make the most strong uneasy. However, that wasn’t the part that intimidated Jack.
Will was making eye contact with him.
Breathing was impossible, the FBI staring back though just barely able to keep the ruse up. When the man finally looked slightly to the left, the ravenette felt the ribbon around his trachea fall away.
“No, he eats them. He… he makes them into art in his own way and then keeps the trophies to make his own art for himself.” Will breathed, tilting his back to inhale the sharp, crisp air that usually indicates that snow is about to fall. The brunette thought, briefly, that he would need to check his radiators for functionality very soon. “Wait… what does this have to do with me?”
Jack gave him a look, one that the antisocial many didn’t like one bit, then gave Will a tight smile. He straightened out where he was leaning against the pillar, hands firmly in his coat pockets.
“No-”
“You’re going to help me profile him.”
That got the man’s attention, tense and shaking a little. Jack pursed his lips for a moment before fishing an envelope out of his pocket. It was a pristine white little thing, with a gold outlining and swirling letters over the front.
Will took it like it was combustible.
The FBI agent turned to enter his vehicle but quickly tossed one last thing over his shoulder.
“And Will, wear something nice.” said Jack before he ducked into the running car, making his escape down his driveway.
Pleading eyes watched the shine of the headlights disappear down the road, a blissful quiet taking over in place of the short conversation the two just had. Will had stayed on his porch for some time before feeling a bit of a chill, heading back inside to the delight of his tired dogs.
Shaking hands peeled his clothes from his muscled arms, trying to calm his mind down. However, no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept imagining each possible way to absolutely fuck this up.
It was like trying to tame a large swarm of wasps who wanted so badly to sting you.
‘Wear something nice.’
Will opened his closet in an attempt to gather information on his current clothing status. Metaphorical moths fluttered out, as well as some actual ones, as the man took in the abundance of flannel, jackets and jeans.
Nothing suitable for the fancy gala.
The empath let out a sharp exhale at the unintentional pun, clenching his jaw at the tacky closet was once again closed, the few moths landing on the aged furniture to mourn the loss of their temporary home.
Will tried not to think about how he’d have to call Beverly or Alana for help to obtain a decent looking article of clothing. They’d probably lecture him on needing to upgrade his wardrobe, or how he needed to take better care of himself. The blue eyes rolled as he flicked the bathroom lights on, making quick work of brushing his teeth.
‘See?’ He mused to no one, ‘I can take care of myself!’
The brunette huffed out a sigh and growled under his breath, shuffling into his bed to try and get decent sleep for the night. The pile of fur on the ground all breathed in unison, and Will envies their ability to fall into the tempting grips of unconsciousness so easily.
It was definitely not going to be a relaxing few days like he had originally thought.
The empath buries his face in his pillow as he recalls the latest crime that he had consulted on, and mourns the time off he had been promised. His mind was still in shambles, the edge of the cliff near centimeters from his breaking point. Will supposes that there are still those few centimeters that he can shuffle, though.
The moon is quite beautiful this particular night, full and bright. Will gazes into the night sky from the window, opal eyes fluttering shut as it reaches its zenith.
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Meanwhile, on the other side of town, a sleek black limousine pulls up to a three story house. Sharp brown eyes take in the elegant exterior, facial features carefully relaxed into an expression of impressed indifference. It was a look that the noble had perfected over his many years of life, an air of politeness seeming to coat him like his carefully picked cologne. His suit -personally tailored- had a muted blue with maroon accents in the tie, and polished brown dress shoes that were measured specifically for his feet. His greying blonde hair was slicked to perfection, the product a musky scented thing that was easy on his overly sensitive nose.
Hannibal Lector waited patiently for the driver to open the door.
“Thank you, sir.” The smooth accent came as the noble stepped out of the car, like a stag stretching its neck to loom more menacing. Foreign territory made the noble wary, especially since he was more watched in a new country. It made the local news reporters jittery, something Hannibal was quite used to, however annoying the notion was.
Expensive leather clicked on the walkway into the house, the door silently opening to an empty house. The only occupants there had been in the house was the very dust thinly coating the tarps on the furniture.
Hannibal decided to explore the house, setting to see the kitchen first. His servants would bring his belongings into his room, the noble was sure. Bedelia had called for people to show him around Baltimore tomorrow, and the blonde grimaced a fraction. The woman was persistent, he’d give her that. It would be rude to turn her down, however, so he acquiesced.
The kitchen was perfect, albeit small, and Hannibal felt himself salvate at the idea of being able to cook again. It was only a matter of finding his prey.
A man entered the room, carelessly tossing his luggage into the room. Amber eyes watched the man closely, observing the arrogant way the other held himself.
“I’m sure you can figure out how to unpack yourself, princess.” The man sneered, mockingly bowing to the cannibal. To his credit, Hannibal didn’t change his expression and stared unerringly at the man. “Do you need anything else, your worshipfulness?”
Hannibal looked around, taking his time inspecting every cranny of the kitchen as if he wasn’t just admiring it a moment earlier.
“Hey, buddy, some time this year.”
The noble let the corner of his mouth turn up.
“May I have a business card?” Hannibal asked, folding his arms behind his back. The man sniffed, taking out a card out of his pocket to give to the noble. Thick fingers went to grab the laminated paper but it was snatched away at the last moment.
Raspy laughter filled the air as the man flicked the card across the room, making his exit before more words were exchanged. Hannibal watched the man staunter out of the room, then picked the card off the ground. He didn’t give it a single glance, simply pocketing the information and continued his stroll through the temporary house. The second floor yielded extravagant rooms filled with grandeur and a bedroom suited to his needs.
The moonlight streamed through the window Hannibal gazed out, the sky polluted from the street lamps.
Yet, the moon was so beautiful that night.