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Chapter Text

It had taken a few lives for resignation to set it. Shikako would always be reborn. No matter how she died or the damage to her soul, there was always just enough of herself left to find herself a new reality and a twin. Sometimes the reality was familiar, most of the time it wasn’t-but that mattered less and less.

Time wore away at the rest of the truths about her existence, her memories-her sense of self. Only solid memories of her first life-the first time she’d lived, and the second-when she learned the possibility of her rebirth, remained. Everything else would fade given enough time-Shikako learned for sure.

After the resignation came acceptance.

Shikako would always be reborn, she would think of herself as Shikako until she adjusted to her new name. She would love her brother, no matter who he was or what he became.

That was important.

Shikako had been the twin to sweet young boys that became caring capable men, but she had also been the twin sister of tyrants, sadists, and occasionally-some that had severe mental disorders.

She wondered what it said about her that she cared less and less. Shikako needed her twin. They were the anchor upon which whatever sense of reality she had would rest. Besides-they loved her too.

Always.

Even when they didn't quite believe themselves capable of it, Shikako knew. If she had learned nothing else in her eons of existence it was all the shapes and forms love could take.

So she wasn’t terribly surprised to find herself with a new decisively strange twin. It had taken her a while to figure out that while Hannibal adored her, he could not say the same of their parents. It had only taken so long to realize the ways her brother was different because it took newborns a few years to actually become people and develop their personalities.

Hannibal had been surprisingly contained even for a toddler. He was very observant-he noticed he was different from everyone else about when she did. But it still took another year for the shape of him to become clear to her.

They were five and the stable boy hadn’t noticed Aldona-her new name, behind him, walking on silent feet as she always did. Aldona had been careless and hadn’t realized he was throwing a saddle behind him and it knocked her over.

It had been fine, skinned knees and bloody palms were hallmarks of childhood. She hadn’t thought to mind. Hannibal, however, did.

He broke the poor ten year olds arm.

He claimed he didn’t do it on purpose, of course. Her brother was too smart to take his revenge obviously even at five years old. He’d waited until the poor kid was balancing precariously on a branch-tree climbing was a favored pastime for children in their estate, and startled him right out of the tree.

Hannibal then apologized for not noticing him there, almost word for word the same apology the stable boy had given her. Aldona hadn’t been terribly impressed with her twin and let him know it. She started making better book selections for them to read in the castle's cavernous library and started to coach her brother on how to best pass as a normal child-Aldona had plenty of practice.

Her parents thought nothing of her brother's violence, distracted as they were by her mothers pregnancy. When Mischka was born Aldona loved her with the same ease she had for any new sibling. Hannibal managed more fondness for their new sister than he ever had for their parents.

It was a delicate balance between showing Hannibal that she loved and accepted him while hiding his cold nature from their parents. She didn’t always succeed, her father always paid her brother the most attention, considering he was the heir of their line-she wasn’t surprised he noticed something, she just wasn't sure if he was aware what it was that marked her brother so distinctly apart from the rest of humanity.

Then their parents were taken away and executed due to civil unrest.

Aldona supposed she also hadn’t quite managed to love her parents as much as she did her siblings-she didn’t even try to save them.

Instead she made sure to lock herself and her siblings in the food cellars with some gold and jewels while the servants looted their estate and fled. Food was more important than whatever gold was being pried from their banisters or ornaments on the walls.

They survived.

The first winter was cold and hard, but she held a hunting knife at the ready and methodically locked up their castle-quietly doing away with several malicious stragglers her siblings never needed to know about. They stayed in their parents' master bedroom, sharing warmth with what bedding they could scrounge up and making small meals that mostly filled their child sized stomachs. The first spring was decisively more enjoyable-Aldona figured out how to set up a mostly indoors greenhouse with repurposed windows. Then she went hunting for fur, Lithuania was far too cold a climate and children grew fast even when they had no access to tailors.

For two years, they survive. Aldona goes out to hunt and leaves Hannibal to watch Mischa. It’s after she comes back from an evidently ill-timed hunt that she finds out their former steward had kept his keys.

He’d come back with a Russian Brigand. They’d locked up her siblings in a closet and ate up most of their food stores.

The cold rage that took hold of Aldona then meant she murdered them all before she quite consciously decided to do so. She made sure the steward died extra slowly, as painfully as she could on short notice-his screams echoed through the bloody hallways and it wasn’t until the steward breathed his last that it occurred to Aldona that her siblings had probably heard that.

She let them out and Mischa was a sobbing mess-terrified toddler she was. Aldona did her best to soothe her little sister, tucking her small face into her neck so her poor sister wasn’t further traumatized by the mess Aldona made and took her into her room, crawling in with her Mischa and reading her a story in a bid for normalcy.

It wasn’t until Mischa drifted off, exhausted by the events of her day that Aldona went to find her wayward twin. She found him in front of the steward's body. Aldona almost wished he looked more traumatized, but that would be too simple for her brother-who looked interested instead. He was surveying the steward with the usual attention and appreciation he gave the ornate pieces of art that had once hung off the castle walls.

Aldona sighs, her nine year old body was feeling the strain of everything she’d just put it through, but-“We need to get rid of all the bodies and the blood before Mischa wakes up.”

Hannibal nodded absently, acknowledging her words but not taking his eyes off the gory sight before him. Aldona had been very unkind to the man-his own mother might not recognize the mess she made of him.

“Hannibal,” Aldona prompted again when her brother made no sign of moving.

“You punished him,” He said instead, turning to look at her with the same admiration he’d shown when she locked them in with the food in the cellar and later figured out their greenhouse.

“I did,” Aldona acknowledged because there was no point in denying the obvious.

“Good,” Hannibal said, shooting the steward's corpse a vicious smile. “You must be tired sister, I’ll take care of everything here. You needn’t worry, you’ve done more than enough tonight.”

Aldona shot her twin a dubious look, but she was tired, it was getting cold and she wanted nothing more than to get back to Mischa and rest. So she nodded her assent.

And only sort of regretted it once she spotted their new lawn ornaments. Hannibal had gotten…creative with all the corpses she’d left him. He’d even rigged up a pulley system, lifting the stewards corpse above the others in a place of honor.

Hannibal studied her reaction to his work with the same eagerness with which he showed her a drawing he was particularly proud of or an essay he thought showcased his eloquence. Her cold little brother was quite the drama queen at heart.

“I suppose it’s as good a warning as anything I would have come up with.” Aldona said, not willing to be hypocritical and scold him for desecrating the corpses she’d made. “We just have to be sure to keep it from Mischa, she’s too young to understand. She’s going to have enough nightmares about the whole thing regardless.”

“Of course sister,” Hannibal promised, eyes lighting up even as he restrained his smile.

It was all very macabre, but it had worked for Vlad the impaler-and would hopefully dissuade any more brigades from trying their luck on her home. If the authorities came and tried to blame them they could claim some over protective servant who’d conveniently disappeared on a hunting trip had done it. Who was going to blame them? They were children, two of them little girls, what child could come up with something so heinous?

It wasn’t like anyone was aware of how vicious and brilliant her brother was.

Aldona went to inventory their food. She always tried to keep more than they needed and she was never happier for her hoarding tendencies than when she realized there was barely enough food to last them the winter. The pheasants she brought back could be frozen in case one of them developed an illness and needed extra nutrition. Aldona could hopefully make any medicine she needed from the medicinal herbs she grew in their greenhouse.

They would be fine.

They might have to tighten their belts and not eat as much-the brigand had prepared quite a feast for themselves and sadly managed to consume most of it before she got back. But what was one less meal in the face of starvation?

Two days later Mischa developed a fever and they lost all their meat. Aldona was rethinking proportions and how her little sister didn’t even eat that much really-she didn’t mind missing a few meals for Mischa health when Hannibal suggested that there was plenty of meat outside.

That Aldona did smack him for, “I don’t care if you kill people and I don’t care if you like setting up dioramas with their corpses but I draw the line at eating them.”

Hannibal pouted as if she’d refused to let him read over her shoulder, one of her brother's favorite pastimes. “They aren’t really people-they came into our home to threaten us sister; they’re just pigs.”

If the man hadn’t scurried off with the rest of the staff after her parents execution Aldona would have killed their former etiquette teacher. That had been his favorite refrain, ‘A gentleman with no manners is just a pig,’ ‘A lady that cannot use the proper cutlery is just a pig.’

Of course her brother would have chosen to internalize all of that instead of the books on ethics Aldona was always choosing for them to read.

“A person that eats another person is a fucking Pig!” Aldona said. It wasn’t that cannibalism was a foreign concept or practice for her, but she reserved it for the sole times there was no other way to survive. They could still make the winter without introducing human flesh into their systems.

“Language dear sister,” Hannibal smiled, clearly teasing and not giving a shit about her knowing he’d been perfectly serious. “If you insist, we will only treat them as emergency ratios.”

It was a long, dark winter. The vegetables in her green house grew painfully slowly and Mischa had taken to just watching them for hours in the hopes that they would grow faster. It broke her heart-but not enough to start carving up the corpses outside her home.

By the end of it Aldona had almost started thinking of their lawn art as meat reserves the way her brother clearly did, but she managed to find a nest of rabbits and a pheasant in the forest early enough in spring. Aldona promptly turned one of their wine cellars into a breeding room. As much Aldona would have loved to slaughter the rabbits along with the pheasant-she refused to go another winter without meat and contemplating cannibalism.

They would be more important as reserves.

With the proper spring came the dethawing of the corpses outside their home. Then the rot began to smell bad enough that they had to ban Mishka from the front end of the castle lest she follow her nose and run into the gruesome scene.

Time passed. They bred rabbits, worked their way through the estates library and taught Mishka to read and write. Hannibal also insisted she teach him to hunt and play with knives with the ease she did.

Aldona had tried to hold out and not give her future serial killer of a brother more deadly skills, but he already appropriated her silent walking through observation alone and she didn’t want him losing any fingers if he tried practicing with knives without supervision. It wasn’t like she’d love him any less no matter how he killed people, Aldona justified to herself when she inevitably caved to her brother's hopeful looks.

She had taken to stabbing him when he was being a bastard though. Aldona had forgotten more than most experts ever learned about knives. The wounds she left him rarely even scarred.

Then they were thirteen and they heard a gun discharge outside their doors.

She ordered her brother to take Mischa to the cellars and he refused.It was the first time Hannibal had contested one of her orders in their entire lives-insisting that the doors were still holding and he could come to figure out the situation with her.

Aldona recognized the eagerness in his eyes for the bloodlust it was. But they didn’t have time to argue-so she compromised and promised not to engage their enemies as long as the door held and he could help her dispose of them once they had a plan.

Her brother held her gaze seriously, realized she meant it and picked up their protesting little sister. She’d hope saying dispose would have been euphemistic enough to go over Mischa head, but their Mischa wasn’t stupid. Aldona was fairly certain she’d figured out what happened to the people that attacked them all those years ago. Traumatic memories had a habit of lingering longer than regular ones.

She was trying to figure out the best way to explain the situation and answer Mischa innevitable questions in an age appropriate manner when she found a lone Japanese teenager with a gun eying the remains of Hannibal's passion project suspiciously.

Aldona observed the area carefully and once she was sure there was only the armed young woman outside-called out.

Chiyoh was very clear in her accented Lithuanian.

Which was how Aldona remembered that they had an uncle, and apparently he had come looking for them. Still-Aldona was not letting anyone armed near her little family, so she told Chiyoh she had to leave the gun outside if she wanted to come in and stay the night. Chiyoh did not hesitate to put the gun down but she still had a few knives on her person. Aldona decided to be understanding in the face of their lawn art.

She sat Chiyoh in a parlor and went to look for her siblings and explain the situation. She also pretended not to see Hannibal's disappointment at not getting to kill anything. Chiyoh was sincere as far as Aldona could tell, and both her siblings trusted her judgment. Aldona had developed quite the instinct and insight for people through sheer exposure-she couldn’t remember the last time it had led her wrong.

So they packed what food they could for the road and Aldona released the contents of their breeding room into the wild. Then they made their way to Paris.

Chapter Text

Paris was very different from Lithuania-the people, the climate, and best of all; the food.

Her uncle also differed significantly from what she remembered of her father. Her uncle was a more solemn man, just as proper as the Lecter upbringing demanded of them all-but with a quiet melancholy of spirit that gave his smile a sad twinge even as he welcomed them with a smile. It didn’t take Aldona long to put together the bitter glances at his wife when faced with three nephews and why he’d been looking for them in the first place.

Mischa, for whom the outside world had become very scary through the sheer amount of people she was suddenly exposed to, refused to sleep by herself the first three months they spent in Paris. Aldona spent a lot of time soothing her siblings, although her twin would deny he also needed the comfort. Paris was almost a new world compared to the life they’d gotten used to living in their estate.

Their uncle hired a language tutor for them and Aldona could see how much the three of them impressed the matronly old woman. It didn’t take very long for their uncle to decide they were fluent enough to attend boarding schools, it helped that Aldona had managed to source enough material from their estate library to provide something of an education for her siblings. Less helpful was how broad said education was and how Hannibal was discovering both puberty and testing the limits of authority. Something that put their poor uncles back up, especially when he noticed the way his nephew looked at his wife.

Her brother could be subtle when he wanted to be. But he was fairly blatant with the way he eagerly followed Lady Murasaki into the kitchens and whatever outing the woman thought to invite them to. He barely remembered not to stare over the dinner table-though that seemed to be all the etiquette he would bother with.

Aldona had tried to nip that ill-advised attraction in the bud, but her brother preferred to live dangerously. Aldona comforted herself with the gold she’d managed to sneak into their travel packs and the knowledge that she could probably get them out of any troublesome situation her brother landed them in.

Also-better an ill advised crush than spending his time and attention on murder, so she let the situation be and tried to be extra respectful of her uncle in useless compensation for her brothers sheer gall. It truly helped that they were away from their uncle's mansion for most of the year regardless.

Boarding school was also the first time Aldona had ever been so far from her twin in her current life. She worried about him, even knowing as she did that she should be saving her concern for his classmates. Her brother's infatuation with violence was one he hid much better than his attraction to their aunt, well rehearsed by Aldona as he had been for the majority of their lives.

It didn’t help that her worries weren’t completely unfounded.

Her brother was lonely.

He wrote her long meandering letters that never quite spoke of the feeling but bled with it nonetheless. Aldona could still keep an eye on Mishka since they were in the same school-but it had taken some effort to figure out how to meet up with her brother.

The first time she instructed him to be in his school's observatory at midnight when she snuck in he’d hugged her so hard he’d swept her clear off her feet. She could feel the relief radiating off him and knew she’d make the stupid trip at least twice a month.

Aldona traded book recommendations with him through their letters, then music scores when he insisted she ‘learn’ with him. The first time their uncle hustled them out of the manor on a holiday-he’d prepared opera tickets for them. Hannibal had been so touched by the purity of the sopranos singer's voice that his eyes watered.

Art moved him in a way other people couldn’t. Though fortunately he recognized that neither of them were vocally gifted.

Her brother had always been very interested and passionate about art the way he was passionate about little else, except perhaps good food-a recent fixation they shared as a family after their somewhat lean years in Lithuania.

Hannibal was determined to indulge in everything Paris had to offer. He made her spend hours wandering the Lurve with him and an equally curious Mischa.

The sheer exposure made Aldona curious. She’d always liked writing, and she’d learned and forgotten many instruments through her unreasonably long existence, but she couldn’t recall ever picking up a paintbrush with artistic intent. She’d never quite learned the trick of enjoying attention and being an artist tended to bring plenty of both.

Mostly because of Aldonas perfectionist nature and the urge to excel in whatever field she chose to spend her time on that she’d reluctantly recognized as a personality trait. She had plenty of lives where she’d gained some acclaim for her musical skills, but a painter to hide behind. Even her first shadow puppet performance had been something of a bid to get people to look at something other than herself.

But Hannibal would not stop dragging her to museums and art galleries and eventually, her curiosity was roused and Aldona picked up a paint brush to see what she would like to make. The thought of having to sing in front of others was still too unappealing, but some could argue, and Aldona agreed, that kanji was art.

As someone who’d been a seal master of much renown Aldona had basic accuracy with a brush. Her first attempts to mimic some masters were very well received by her brother who claimed they could have been high priced forgeries.

Aldona had blushed under the praise, Mischa's amazement at her skill was also quite embarrassing-but her brother would never praise her so enthusiastically if he didn’t truly admire her efforts, so privately-Aldona enjoyed it just a little more.

As much as she liked her little sister, Hannibal was her twin. That had always meant more to her than it probably should have.

As they got older Hannibal became bolder in his pursuit of Murasaki and Aldona grew more jaded to his audacity. Especially once Chiyoh cornered her and demanded she reign her brother in. Hannibal's flirting was causing real friction in her Lady’s marriage and while Chiyoh sympathized with them and their harsh life experiences-her loyalty was to Murasaki.

Then things got weird.

Aldona had always been guiltily respectful of her uncle, but the relationship was strained regardless; Hannibal being who he was, and Aldona making no effort to fix that. She wouldn’t have been terribly surprised if their uncle had shipped them off to another country and thus out of his hair. But instead of doing what he-as their sole legal guardian was more than entitled to and sending them away, her uncle began to hit on her instead.

The first time it happened Aldona had assumed she’d read it wrong. Being an Aromatic Asexual Aldona had been more than happy with her eternal spinsterhood and thus never developed much skill in romance.

The second time though, was over a late afternoon tea he’d invited both Aldona and her brother to attend in his office-the sheer bloodlust that radiated from her brother forced her to acknowledge that her uncle was being a creep.

Her first thought upon the forced realization was that she better be the only niece he’d set his eyes on or he’d be in for a truly painful and messy death-Aldona had more than enough practice making people wish she’d just kill them. So she let herself dash to interrogate Mischa about any interactions he’d had with the man.

By the time she’d confirmed that Mischa thought her uncle wasn’t even aware she existed and thus never interacted with him outside family meals it dawned on Aldona that she had left Hannibal alone with their uncle.

She was surprised to find that her uncle was still alive when she made it back to his office. Less surprising was that Hannibal was torturing him and thoughtfully muzzled the man with his own socks and tie.

Well-she knew who her brother was and Aldona wasn’t proud of the fact that she’d made preparations to get rid of her uncles body while getting away scot free when it occurred to her Hannibal might murder him to be with Murasaki. Her brother thought himself quite in love with the woman-but it came in handy, so once Hannibal put him out of his misery Aldona was ready to go.

She’d long bribed a currier in the French embassy to be ready to slip traces of an emergency letter from Lithuanian to Robert Lecters residence on the top of the pile of diplomacy paperwork her uncle had most recently received. So she only had to make a phone call and then go to the quarters of a man she’d ensured got hired as a kitchen hand that fit her uncle's dimensions and silhouette well enough to pass for him at a distance-She’d long stolen some of her uncle's clothing for the disguise. He would be taking a car out of the residence driven by a currently incredibly high driver.

The original plan had been to let the man leave the country and disappear, pretending his absence had something to do with politics and not his murderous nephew so that when his waterlogged body turned up somewhere outside of Paris no one would think they were involved.

Simple, no one would ever suspect them-and their uncle would get a closed casket funeral.

The new plan was a car crash because Hannibal hadn’t left Robert Lector an intact corpse and Aldona needed a way to obscure the part where he’d been tortured to death and that meant a relatively whole body and enough cause to disfigure her patsy's face.

Aldona silently apologized to both the driver and the body double who were not aware of the new plan-and had not agreed to die so that Aldona could keep her brother safe-but it was hardly the most monstrous thing she had done, so she’d drugged the driver, force fed him some whiskey, and told her poor patsy that she thought her scheme would be more credible if she was present as a ‘witness’ for her uncle getting on the train.

The man thought Aldona was killing her uncle so that she and her brother would inherit his estate and doubted her story not at all. Aldona slipped into the front of the old fashioned vehicle, opened the partition and made small talk with the man so he wouldn’t notice she was the one driving from the passenger side and that the actual driver wasn’t responsive.

Once they reached a particularly deserted stretch of the road, Aldona turned around to disfigure her patsy with some strategically broken glass, nudged the drivers foot so he floored the gas pedal and rolled out of the car before it veered violently off the road and crashed into a tree.

Aldona hid nearby and confirmed both deaths and whether or not she needed to alter the scene-there was plenty of glass embedded in her patsy's face before she legged it back to the estate and hoped no one had discovered the fact that Hannibal had carved up their uncle quite yet.

Her luck held, and her uncle's body lay mostly undisturbed behind the doors her brother had thankfully managed to keep closed, although Hannibal didn’t even have the decency to keep all the blood splatter on the carpet. Aldona merely took a deep breath and instructed Hannibal to get a body kit she’d readied under her bed.

To be fair to Hannibal-she’d originally prepared it in case her uncle instructed any of the staff to make them miserable and Hannibal snapped before they thought of a plan around the man's rage-but it said a lot in her belief that her brother killing people was only a matter of time because she was very well prepared.

After they rolled her uncle's mutilated corpse onto a tarp, cleaned the blood off the office using her carefully prepared chemicals and dragged the body far enough into the woods by the estate that they were reasonably certain no one would find his unmarked grave-Hannibal asked for the details.

It said a lot about her brother's trust in her that he simply followed her orders so she filled him in on how she planned to obscure the truth of her uncle's death.

“Matthias was hired four months ago, have you been expecting me to kill him for so long? I don’t understand! Why didn’t you kill him? If he was-if he was taking liberties-“

“He wasn’t,” Aldona snapped, “He wasn’t actually attracted to me-he just made like one creepy comment to see if I told you. And when I didn’t he invited you over to see it. It was a power play, a way to punish you through me and make you feel helpless. I think you drove him crazy because he originally took us in with very benign intentions.”

Robert Lecter had simply wanted an heir.

Hannibal eyed her shrewdly, “You were still prepared for me to kill him.”

Aldona sighed, “I thought you’d get impatient about Murasaki and remove the obstacle to your happiness.”

“You know me well dear sister,” Hannibal chuckled, “But you were wrong about one thing. I didn’t want to kill our uncle. I was hoping our aunt would-for me.”

Aldona gaped at him, “Why would you want that poor woman to kill her husband?”

“You have not spent much time with our aunt, dear sister. There is a darkness in her. An edge that could be honed beautifully and enable us to make true art together.”

“So you’re not even in love with Lady Murasaki, just the homicidal version of her in your dreams,” Aldona stated, not terribly surprised. Her brother's first love was probably the blood she’d drawn from the damned steward's body; she would have been more surprised if Murasaki had managed to surpass it in her brother's affections.

“She is quite beautiful regardless. You know how I adore beauty-sister. But she was the first to evoke true desire in me for companionship.” Hannibal explained.

Aldona, who was fairly certain Hannibal was having his choice of ass at his boys only boarding school, pinched her nose. She had never understood the draw of either, so why bother to judge her brother. “I don’t care about the specifics, whether you succeed or fail in your seduction-keep it from Mischa and we won’t have any problems.”

“I always do,” her brother promised. Aldona was starting to suspect that he enjoyed being the only one who knew of her kills.

On second thought-of course he did.

If he could get away with it Hannibal would happily hoard her from the world. It was probably for the best that she had no intention to acquire a significant other because she was fairly sure Hannibal would kill anyone he thought she paid too much attention to.

Things went exactly as planned and they buried Mathias in her uncle's stead and shed the expected tears. Aldona watched Murasaki cry and wondered if Mischas were the only genuine tears at the fancy funeral and wake Lady Murasaki organized.

The next day her brother smiled at her over breakfast like the cat that got the cream and Aldona quietly prayed they used protection. Then-like the pragmatist she was, considered that there was no better time to knock Murasaki up as her uncle's death was still recent enough they could pass any resulting children off as Roberts.

Later that day, on the new walks by her uncle's actual grave Hannibal insisted on taking, she shared the thought.

Her brother laughed, “Why would I want a child? You are all the family I need, sister.”

“And Mischa,” Aldona protested. The older she got the more her little sister noticed how cold her older brother was. How he spent most of his time seeking out Aldona and Murasaki and only really paid attention to her existence when demanded it. It was inevitable Mischa noticed more than what Aldona would like for her to see, but their little sister was no fool.

“And Mischa,” Hannibal agreed indulgently and Aldona wondered if any affection he’d ever shown their youngest sister was simply to appease her.

She hoped not.

Aldona ignored her brother's romance with her aunt and tried to spend more of her time with Mischa and Chiyoh, who spent a surprising amount of time together regardless of her presence.

By the time she and Hannibal graduated from boarding school-early as expected, the romance between her aunt and twin had soured.

So Hannibal decided he wanted to go to college in Florence and it was a foregone conclusion that she would be going with him, especially as he’d sent in several applications to suitable colleges for her as well. They were discussing when best to buy the tickets for the train over dinner when Mischa threw her first tantrum in years.

Aldona was caught off guard, Mischa had a very gentle temper and had always been easy to tease and cuddle back into a smile. The sudden violent rage was very foreign and Aldona watched, baffled as Mischa swept the fine China off the table after screaming,”NO!”

Hannibal looked surprised but completely unamused as he sized their little sister up, “It’s not up for discussion Mischa, and it is disgusting behavior to be so rude to everyone at the dinner table.”

Mishka ignored him completely, turning teary eyes onto Aldona and begging, “I’m sorry! Don’t leave me. I’ll be good sister-I promise, can you please stay with me?”

“Mischa,” Aldona began, heart breaking as she took in her little sisters fear and sorrow, “I-“

“I already said it is not up for discussion,” Hannibal said, speaking right over her. The hypocrite.

Mishka glared at him with surprising venom and Aldona wondered when things had gone so wrong in her little family.

“It’s not fair!” Mischa cried, “You always pick him. Everyone always picks him. You, Aunt Murasaki-Even uncle only talked to him. Why can’t you pick me? Just this one time-why can’t you stay with me?”

Aldona found it in herself to begin tearing up. Mischa’s pain was very real, so she stabbed her steak knife in between Hannibal's fingers in warning because she could feel him opening his mouth to be a bastard.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel neglected,” Aldona apologized, looking into Mischa’s eyes with all her sincerity. ”You’re my little sister and I love you. I’ll stay.”

Hannibal was not having it, “Indulging her tantrums like this will only result in worse behavior, Aldona you were accepted to one of the finest colleges of the arts in the world. Attending will open doors for you that would otherwise remain closed, no matter our wealth. Do you not want to be a famous painter, are you going to let Mischa crying keep you from following your dreams?”

While painting was a nice hobby Aldona was becoming very fond of and better at, she had no such dreams and her brother knew it. The words were for Mishka, framing her need for companionship as an active harm to Aldona.

The worst part was-it worked. Mishka cried silently but Aldona knew from the way her grip on Aldona slackened that Mishka would no longer insist she stay in Paris.

Aldona glared at her brother, promising retribution for hurting their little sister like this, but Hannibal had no remorse. She did choose him, and he knew it, he didn’t need to rub it into Mischa’s face. They had been her entire world for most of Mischa’s formative years-of course she would feel attached to their presence, “Why don’t you come with us? You can learn Italian and make new friends?”

“No.”

Murasaki spoke with complete conviction and Aldona was about to turn to ask who exactly she thought she was to be making such a decision for them-when Hannibal repeated her words, tone brooking no argument, “No.”

Aldona glanced between them, reading into their silent tension and then wilted in understanding. Of course-her brother the serial killer, she’d known it was just a matter of time, she supposed killing her uncle had cemented the path in his mind.

He must have spoken to Murasaki about it, about his hope they could create ‘Art’ together. It was probably Murasakis conscience suddenly coming to call, no child should be around that. Aldona knew then that she wouldn’t be taking Mischa with her.

“I’ll visit,” Aldona promised instead. “I’ll call you every day and I won’t miss a holiday or a birthday, okay?”

Mischa sniffed into her side and nodded.

Aldona tried not to feel like she was trying to buy her sister's affections with the steady stream of gifts that accompanied her letters. Mostly she failed.

Hannibal didn’t ask her to help him in what he called his ‘becoming.’ Which Aldona appreciated because she was still mad at him for his willingness to upset Mischa to further his own goals.

He still came by with a newspaper containing photos of his murderous rendering of the Primavera. Giving her the same expectant gaze from their childhood when he showed her a drawing or his truly pitiful attempts at poetry.

Aldona tried to tamp down the part of her used to indulging him.

She failed, “I like what you did with the flowers, but your knife work could be better.”

He beamed at her, the Hannibal version with smiling eyes and a soft quirk of the lips.

Two weeks later she stabbed a man who tried breaking into their flat. It was worse because he was a Pazzi, and her only saving grace was that she’d been cooking at the time so having a knife on her made sense.

Less sense was made by the Pazzi coming by after he lost a kidney to her blade with a bouquet of flowers and offers of dinner in apology for scaring her.

The Pazzi should have taken the hint when she first turned him down because on his third try to convince her dating him was a good idea, the apology dinner being a very thin veneer, her brother was home.

Aldona thanked all the stars that she would never want a partner because the look Hannibal gave the man confirmed her theory.

Aldona had to sit on her brother to keep him from following the guy into a dark alley and only let him go once he swore he wouldn’t ever target any ‘Pazzi’ while they lived in Italy. The loophole was fairly obvious but Aldona would take what she could get. Hopefully time and his new identity as Il Monstro would keep Hannibal occupied enough to forget the man's existence.

Chapter Text

Hannibal was accepted to John Hopkins and Mischa decided she would be going to a university nearby, putting her foot down about it with a level of assertiveness she’d never known her little sister had.

Aldona decided to follow Mischa’s lead and put her own foot down-buying two houses in a fancy upscale neighborhood Hannibal would approve of and telling her brother she wanted her own home. Several tantrums (the raging hypocrite), and threats of violence on both sides later-Aldona agreed to compromise by moving next to each other as if she hadn’t already purchased their new homes.

Grudgingly-and still with more grace than she thought him capable of, Hannibal gave in.

Though Aldona had another fight on her hands when Hannibal realized she let both Mischa and Chiyoh move in with her. Mischa was ecstatic, finally feeling as if Aldona was choosing her over Hannibal. The illusion did a lot for her little sister's confidence, she had turned into quite a bossy little thing, and it wasn’t anything new going by Chiyoh indulging glances.

When it finally occurred to Aldona to ask after Murasaki, Chiyoh promptly informed her that her Lady had entrusted her to care for Mischa and returned to Japan. Aldona who was glad for the break in family drama had gained some respect in several artistic circles and the elite of Baltimore cheerfully waged a monetary battle over her landscapes. She was hardly lacking inspiration, considering all the different worlds she had seen.

It made her brother proud as a peacock.

It helped that he was being buried in work during his residency and had less time to drag her out of the house. Even the few outings he did manage to cajole her into attending weren’t terribly grand and full of his fellow students. It wasn’t exactly great to be flirted with by drunk civilian children but it was hardly the first time, and Aldona had long mastered the brush off.

She made it no secret to her siblings that she much preferred to be home. Especially since her home finally reflected her tastes, being all cool tones and minimalism which contrasted hilariously with Hannibal's ornamental grandiose home. Without her forcing him to pare down his tastes her brother walked the line between regal and ostentatious.

By the time Hannibal finished medical school, early as always, Mischa had graduated as well and they refused to share an event for the celebration even though it would have made Aldonas life significantly easier.

Aldona bitched constantly to Chiyoh about it-who was perpetually unimpressed but willing to take on the bulk of the work to organize Mischa’s celebration. Aldona wondered how she ended up with two domineering divas for siblings when she’d only started with one. Mischa had even taken up Hannibal's long standing habit of dressing her and Aldona now had to keep careful mental track of who’d purchased what for her in order to mix and match the items whenever she’d be seeing both siblings at once, lest one of them feel like they were losing their constant war for her affections.

Hannibal had always been high maintenance as a sibling, but Mischa was putting in an admirable effort to give him a run for his money, Aldona couldn’t even claim to feel any surprise when she walked past Mischa pinning Chiyoh to a wall and kissing her like the answer to life’s questions were just past her tonsils.

They didn’t even notice her existence. She called Hannibal up to inform him of the situation and bit out, “I blame you. You are a terrible influence, if I ever have to clean up after Mischa the way I had to clean up after you-I’m making you pay for it.”

Hannibal had laughed, tickled pink Mischa was mirroring the path he’d walked with Murasaki, the narcissist. “Don’t worry, sister dear. Mischa is not that interesting.”

“You are the worst big brother ever,” Aldona scolded habitually.

“Thankfully I am an excellent twin,” Hannibal sniffed.

Aldona hung up the phone.

He wasn't terrible as far as twins went, but excellent was pushing it.

Time, as it tended to do to Aldona trickled by, a relentless stream that flowed whether she paid attention to it or not.

Mischa had begun dragging her to sporting events as anything that smacked of ‘art’ she associated with Hannibal and preferred to develop a ‘separate thing to do together.’ Aldona didn’t mind and took her ques from Mischa which teams to cheer on or passionately boo.

Hannibal made his way into the papers, both in the society pages and as the Chesapeake Ripper. He didn’t bother mentioning his murders to her but she was familiar with her brother's body of work.

Then it got around that the Ripper took surgical trophies and Aldona remembered her first life and the thought that naming a Cannibal Hannibal was fairly hamfisted. So she stormed into her brother's kitchen to find him cutting up a human heart.

“Hannibal,” Aldona growled, “We talked about this.”

She would happily beat the shit out of him if he needed a refresher.

“Relax sister,” Hannibal said, slicing away undaunted, “You’ve asked little enough of me in life that I respect the lines you draw.”

“Then why are you planning to cook that heart?” Aldona grounded out.

Hannibal smiled at her the way he did when he felt he was being especially clever. “Because I must feed some pigs tonight and I thought they might enjoy the taste of their own.”

Her brother was deranged. Aldona looked at him in complete despair, “What did those people ever do to you?”

Hannibal hummed pleasantly as he dropped the pieces of the human heart to brown in a pan and fished out what was thankful a bovine heart out of his fridge, “You know how I feel about pigs, sister. Being rude to others is an invitation for discourtesy in and of itself is it not?”

“I know you aren’t insane-“ Aldona had an intimate relationship with insanity, her brother knew exactly what he was doing at all times. The sheer spite inherent in someone willing to feed people he didn’t like other people he detested in disguise was chilling. Sometimes she wished she could care enough about fairness and justice to do something about the monster her brother was and yet- “If you ever feed Mischa or Chiyoh people parts I will cut off one of your arms and feed it to you myself, do you understand?”

“I would never feed anyone to your darling Mish-“ Hannibal began with wide innocent eyes.

“Promise me.” Aldona demanded, uncaring of the interruption, and she let him see that she needed that. She needed to believe he would never harm the only other people she had come to care about in her new life.

Hannibal frowned, his expression shuttering for a moment before he slumped, “I promise you. I hate that you care for her as much as you do but I would never want to hurt you.”

“Really?” Aldona eyed him skeptically, “Is that why you glare painful death at everyone who shows interest in me?”

“If they die before you love them it shouldn’t sting,” Hannibal said, sober in his icy logic, “I do not like sharing you and until I see you show interest in someone and force me to compromise I won’t.”

Aldona snorted.

Ah, yes; because her entire history in this world was a great example of her ability to make compromises with her brother. But she understood the sentiment, Hannibal was a jealous bitch about her time and attention. She’d had to watch so much Opera with him once Mischa had started taking her out, he would only cede what he considered his territory with something sweet enough to be worth his while or copious amounts of violence. “You don’t have to worry, I’m both Asexual and Aromatic, you will always be the closest family I have.”

Hannibal stared at her in disbelief, face already softening with tentative joy, “Truly?”

Aldona gave him an ironic smile, “I promise.”

Hannibal swept her off her feet in a happy hug long enough that he almost burned the human heart he’d left on the stove.

Aldona silently apologized to whoever offended her brother and escaped before he tried to invite her to dinner. Just because he wouldn’t be feeding her human flesh didn’t mean she wanted any part of his new perverted hobby. Aldona wondered what it said about her that she considered her brother's evening plans to be mildly distasteful the same way she did his tendency to seduce married people or his tendency to kill virtual strangers in cold blood. It was strange to understand how heinous it was and yet not find it in herself to care.

She even told herself that when he inevitably got arrested she would only visit him in jail-instead of breaking him out…Aldona was full of shit and she knew it.

As if feeling somewhere in the sibling force that Hannibal was frustrating Aldona and taking up far too much real estate in her mind, Mischa sat her down for a barely passable dinner Chiyoh had put together after Mischa inevitably messed up her own attempts past human consumption and told her with all the shyness of a middle schooler with their first crush that she and Chiyoh were together.

Aldona could not believe they truly thought she shared a home with them and remained ignorant of that fact, but she was the one who had sheltered her little sister into the incredibly silly woman before her-so she held back the irritation begging to be shown on her face and congratulated them as sincerely as she could.

Even Chiyoh smiled, soft and happy and Aldona wanted to gag-they were nauseatingly cute together.

They were also completely inseparable thereafter and Aldona could understand how pretending they didn’t need to breathe the same air at all times in order to live could be considered hiding their relationship.

Aldona also walked away from a lot of suspicious moaning in her hallways. Now that the owner of the home had been informed they got carried away at all times in far too many places. Aldona wondered what they would say if she asked them to move.

Of course Hannibal being Hannibal loudly announced his presence when he caught them in the foyer and Aldona had to sit through a Christmas dinner with a crimson humiliated Chiyoh, an angry spitting little sister, and far too amused twin. Aldona decided to never host again, and forgave Hannibal immediately when he suggested they move into a house of their own where they could “‘fuck everywhere uninterrupted.”

Her little sister found a smaller cozier home for her and her girlfriend where she kept a garden and created a bunch of hybrid flowers beautiful enough to gain Hannibal's begrudging admiration, especially in regards to her orchids. Mischa made her own way into the society pages as an orchid artist.

As a Lector, none of them actually had to work for a living but Mischa, like Hannibal, was in constant need of admiration and thus had to excel in her field and show off how much better she was than all the other mere mortals.

When she thought about it she wondered how much two people who claimed to hate each other so much were so goddamned similar. She hadn’t been kidding when she told Hannibal he was a terrible influence. If Mischa started killing people too she was going to kick his ass.

Fortunately for Hannibal there were no mysterious disappearances around her little sister.

A few more years passed her by with snarky family dinners and Mischa announced she and Chiyoh were getting married.

They dragged Aldona into the planning kicking and screaming while they tried to fend off Hannibal's contributions until finally capitulating and letting him have complete control of the menu. The ceremony was beautiful, Lady Murasaki, who Aldona had forgotten existed, came to attend and tellingly stayed in Hannibal's home for the duration.

She actively did not ask because she didn’t want to know. The woman stayed longer than Aldona would have guessed but inevitably flew off back to Japan.

Two years after their wedding Mischa asked Hannibal for his sperm over Christmas dinner. Aldona considered it a small miracle she hadn’t choked and even Hannibal's usually unflappable demeanor was notably bewildered.

Hannibal bafflingly looked at Aldona of all people in consideration and told Mischa he'd think about it seriously. Thinking about it seriously for Hannibal meant ambushing Aldona and asking if she ever planned to be inseminated.

After looking at her twin blankly she denied any desire to be a mother.

Hannibal nodded thoughtfully, “Even when Mischa was basically our ward you were very seldom maternal. It just occurred to me that you might be willing to take on the roll out of obligation to continue the family.”

Aldona scoffed, “Mischa and Chiyoh can continue the line just fine. With or without you actually.”

Hannibal hummed thoughtfully, “I don’t quite see myself having a child either. I suppose I’ll have Mischa promise to keep the child’s name Lector and let our genes carry on.”

“My hero,” Aldona snorted before letting Hannibal cajole her into a chess match. He never won but it never kept him from trying.

“Hana Lector,” Aldona mused aloud a year later looking down at her new wrinkled niece. It was very on brand for the couple. “You’re going to be an amazing kid.”

Lector genes were nothing to sneeze at. Her brother and sister were very impressive people and Chiyoh was one of the most capable people she’d met in her 30 years of her current existence.

She liked her life. She would never be a particularly fun aunt but she and Hannibal babysat often and Hana was a cheerful child.

A few years later Mischa made another request of her brother and she had a little nephew as well, “Hinata Lector-I suppose you didn’t want to be too obvious and give all your children flower names?”

The way Mischa ducked her head was very guilty.

Her life continued on. Hannibal decided cutting into people for profit instead of fun no longer suited his fancy and went back to school to become a psychiatrist. Not one to let her older brother steal familial limelight, Mischa announced she’d ‘finally finished,’ a doctorate Aldona hadn’t even known she’d been working on, and went on to go into pharmaceutical research.

Chiyoh was evidently influenced by her wife’s change in careers and began teaching Ikabana classes to the bored and wealthy ladies of Baltimore.

Apparently the house was too quiet while the children were in school.

Aldona felt kind of boring in comparison to her family but kept painting her days away, occasionally letting one of her siblings convince her to showcase her work, but she kept all of her own favorite pieces for herself no matter the price people offered.

Usually the pieces that had been inspired by some particular vivid memories of her many past lives.

She had several pieces inspired by Galeel that were so beautiful they had made her family cry. She’d decided against showcasing them however as they felt too personal.

Many of her patrons that bought her earlier works were very smug. Her prices had surged aggressively over the years.

Hannibal was often more smug about it than she was, “Someday sister you will be the most famous Lector of them all. Do you know the New York Times called your landscapes windows to other worlds?”

“You’ve quoted the article to me several times,” Aldona replied amused.

“Your work will be fought over by museums and collectors jealousy-“ Hannibal continued, irrepressible, “I must make sure to make it a condition of inheritance to keep your Galeel series as an asset of the lector estate, we should have ensures the separation of assets long before this I confess, but it never felt as imperative.”

“Even if someone finding out about your hobby would leave us destitute?”

“I have full confidence in your ability to live a comfortable life regardless, dear sister.”

Aldona had snorted at him, but agreed to separate everything into thirds as evenly as possible and that Mischa and her children should be the first to inherit her property if anything happened to her.

Somehow this decision killed the lion share of the hostility between her siblings the way the sheer existence of her nephews hadn’t.

Both Lector siblings began attending the same events, something she and Chiyoh had previously assured never happened in the hopes of preventing a massacre. But now Hannibal took Mischa to the opera instead of her sometimes and on the rare occasion that he managed to drag them both out Aldona was treated to some inspiredly vicious small talk.

Hannibal also began throwing dinner parties for the people he actually liked and invited them. Aldona no longer worried about Hannibal feeding Mischa any of his human pigs and had never even thought he would do it to her, and so she could enjoy them with peace of mind. It helped that the dinner parties his sisters were invited to were carefully curated and Aldona actually enjoyed her time talking to some thoughtful and polite people.

Mischa told her in gossipy tones about there being stories about Hannibal throwing two types of dinner parties, one for people with potential and one for the elite.

“Of course he only invites us to the ones that matter.” Mischa had giggled with sadistic glee.

Aldona had laughed far harder than she meant to at that, but happily shared the news with her brother. As always Hannibal was far too amused by the taboo nature of his food and his inadvertent guests. Being Hannibal though-he stopped sending out guests lists and let anyone who received his invitations live in hope that he considered them elites until they arrived in his home and confirmed whether or not his sisters were present.

Her brother would always choose to be a sadist, given the opportunity.

Chapter Text

Aldona wasn’t quite sure what to think when her brother left town for a week and spent an hour pacing in her living room upon his return. Hannibal was vibrating with feeling, a completely foreign state to her usually frigid brother.

“Do you need me to play you something?” Aldona asked, once he realized how much better she was than most musicians he knew at the piano Hannibal had little patience to listen to others, even the classics. Music was still cathartic to him the way little else was, and he always jumped at the chance to hear her play.

Aldona refused his offers of the harpsichord however and that was a fun argument they revisited often.

“Could you please play me something about potential?” Hannibal stopped to ask, quirking his lips with a strange irony.

Aldona took her seat and gathered herself. She knew the piano better than she knew herself, a consequence of Aldonas ever changing spirit and the piano staying the same. Music had often been a catharsis of her own, a way to work through her demons back before both her demons and Aldona were too tired to do battle.

For her it was a matter of picking a thought, a message she wanted to relay. Once decided, Aldona began to play. She thought about seeds, back in their garden in Lithuania. About ocean waves crashing, ever changing. Wildfires started from the smallest spark, a butterfly's wings sending the sky into spirals, and where she inevitably drifted to when given enough time, Galeel. Pure life given form.

Aldona played for hours, as she always did when she deigned to play. When she finished her brother was on his knees, looking away from her. She gave him time to gather himself and his thoughts, comfortable in their silence.

“I met someone, there’s so much potential for beauty in him, in us if I can make us. I want him to know me and I want to shape him. I-I have never been drawn so strongly to someone, sister, not even our aunt.”

Aldona smiled at him. “Everyone wants to be understood Hannibal, you aren’t unique in that anymore than you are unique in needing oxygen to breathe.”

“You have always understood me,” Hannibal protested.

“I am too much a part of you to be other, brother dearest. What you want is to be seen, who you are apart from me.” Aldona had enough brothers intertwine themselves so tightly with her that they could not consider themselves separate entities. ‘I’ and ‘Me’ became entirely ‘We’ for a lifetime. Miraculously she and Hannibal had managed to avoid that fate, though they’d come close once or twice.

Perhaps if she had chosen to kill with him, they would have merged, but even exhausted into apathy Aldona had no taste for death. She was no stranger to it, but she preferred they ignore each other's existence as often as possible. She had stopped longing for it eternities ago, when she accepted she would never be coming to an end. Ultimately she was a creature of life, and she knew it.

“I suppose I am human after all,” Hannibal said philosophically.

“Will I ever meet this man?” Aldona asked, curious about Hannibal's new interest in a way she’d never managed to be about Lady Murasaki, or any of his other interchangeable lovers. Perhaps it was because she’d always known how those stories would end, but she had no way of knowing how his new interest would develop until she met the man that caught her brother's fancy.

“Perhaps,” Hannibal told her with a sly quirk of his lips, he’d noticed her interest and was thinking about how to leverage it against her, the manipulative asshole.

Aldona snorted at him, “See if I play you anything else anytime soon.”

“It will take me sometime to digest your latest gift,” Hannibal dismissed, “Are you truly sure I can’t convince you to write any sheet music?”

“That would imply I bother composing,” Aldona sniffed.

“I suppose we couldn’t have the world know of your other talents, they are already so greedy for your paintings, imagine having to play for a crowd!” Hannibal mused aloud sarcastically. He was truly bitter that Aldona kept her music to herself the way he was bitter about little else. He didn’t truly want to share it, but much like the best of her paintings; he felt the world would be worse off without it.

Aldona stood and slapped her brother on the shoulder on their way to dinner. Hannibal would be cooking for her for two weeks, his standard repayment for listening to her play. She had to admit he did some of his best work when she inspired him. She hoped his new friend survived anything her brother cooked up.

It was so rare of him to be so affected by someone other than herself, and unlike Hannibal-she’d never had trouble sharing.

It took three months for Hannibal to bring his new friend to her home, Aldona had already been curious about the man for some time, and she became more curious still when Hannibal asked for use of her personal gallery. It was what she’d converted her cellars into since Hannibal had all the wine she’d ever need and then some.

He’d never brought anyone else to see it, he enjoyed hoarding Aldonas best parts to himself as he did. She did not meet Will Graham that day-but she did learn his name in exchange for allowing the visit. A small but powerful victory, she finally had a name to tease her brother with, instead of using the euphemism of ‘friend.’

She asked him over dinner what had convinced him to bring Will Graham to her private gallery.

“He has convinced himself he can no longer see the beauty in the world. I wished to show him otherwise.”

It was not in her brother's nature to be so altruistic. Not for the first time Aldona thought poor Will had her sympathies, “How did that go?”

Hannibal smiled like a shark scenting blood, “Perfectly.”

Her brother came to speak with her about Will on occasion, they were having such a conversation, or rather Hannibal was gushing about the way Will Graham could walk into someone else’s mind and Aldona was teasing him for being so effusive-when their little sister walked in.

“Does that mean Hannibal finally has a boyfriend?” Mischa had asked, all but vibrating with ill concealed excitement.

“Hannibal has had plenty of boyfriends,” Aldona pointed out blandly. “And girlfriends.”

“Not some scandalous affair he’ll only keep around for a month,” Mischa dismissed, Hannibal did have a preference for finding people in committed relationships to seduce and leave bereft, “A real person we can invite to dinner and tease our brother mercilessly with the way he used to tease me and Chiyoh.”

“Chiyoh and I,” Hannibal corrected, the professional asshole that he was. “And Will is all but my patient, it would be highly inappropriate to invite him to a family meal.”

“That’s your favorite kind of person, isn’t it?” Mischa accused, correctly. “The more inappropriate the better. It was really just a matter of time before you bedded a patient and lost your license. I suppose the medical board might be gracious enough to let you resume being a surgeon.”

Some of the medical board members from John Hopkins still tried to corner her brother at some of the soriess her siblings dragged her to and tried to convince Hannibal to go back to surgery.

“That is why he is not quite my patient, little sister.” Hannibal said, smug as ever, “If I don’t charge for his sessions they can’t prove a thing. I am quite fond of psychiatry, as you know.”

Aldona smiled as she listened to them bicker, her little family had grown, but she would always enjoy the happiness of her siblings the most.

Her brother and sister were happy. That was all Aldona had ever wanted for them.

Even Hannibal's ever ill advised love interest seemed plausible for once. She finally met Will Graham at one of his brother's dinner parties. She could all but feel the curiosity radiating off her brother's prey as he peered at her from the corners of his eyes.

She finally also saw what so drew her brother's eye. Aldona was much less discreet in her own interest, out of practice as she was. It had been so long since she’d noticed someone was interesting of her own volition.

“You seem quite taken with mister Graham, Aldona dear,” Mrs.Komeda, one of Hannibal's favorite dinner guests commented, the spirit of gossip alive and well in her eyes.

Hannibal himself looked interested in her reply, her brother perfectly aware of her utter lack of preferences. Will Graham seemed terribly embarrassed as the table went quiet to better hear her reply.

Mischa smiled at her knowingly, believing her interest to be for Hannibal's sake.

Aldona smiled at Will Graham and his clear desire for the floor to open and swallow him whole. “I apologize if my interest has made you uncomfortable, Mister Graham. I simply found myself quite inspired by your presence.”

The table gasped as one, anyone her brother held in high esteem in Baltimore high society was quite familiar with Aldonas body of work. She famously never drew portraits. Or at least nothing that could be recognized as such.

“Are you planning to paint Will, sister?” Hannibal asked mildly, concealing his surprise.

“Not quite,” Aldona replied, “I can show you and your guests what I mean if you are kind enough to let me borrow your harpsichord dear brother.”

“I thought you claimed you could not reach your true artistic expression on a harpsichord dear sister,” Hannibal was torn before his own glee at getting her on his favorite instrument and sheer disbelief Aldona was willing to play for anyone besides him.

“A fact that is the only reason I’m willing to play the peace inspired by mister Graham in public,” Aldona replied and watched the moment Hannibal's curiosity won over his possessiveness.

“Then I suppose dessert can wait lest you lose your train of thought.” Hannibal conceded, then addressed his guests, “Please follow me to the parlor. I have never managed to convince my twin to grace anyone else with her gift of music. You are all incredibly lucky to be here, we must all be quite grateful to mister Graham for attending and serving as her inspiration.”

Will Graham sank impossibly further into his chair for a moment before his own curiosity about her music had him standing along with the other guests. She could see how he could get along with her brother.

Mischa was watching her with confusion, her little sister had never heard her play before. She shot her a reassuring smile.

Aldona finally took a seat before her brother's harpsichord, eyes closing as the diner guest settled around her. Aldona gathered the melody Will inspired and took a breath, absently noting Hannibal took a seat at the end of her bench.

Then she began to play.

Will was a mirror, a blank piece of paper that the world availed itself upon except when he wasn’t. Will was a person and a reflection, he could see the best of those around him just as clearly as the worst. He was judgement and acceptance both, clarity and confusion. Aldona let her musings drift in and out of her mind with the melodies. She really did lack the soul deep mastery of the harpsichord she held for the piano, but she knew music itself well enough to express her thoughts, the mood such an existence inspired within herself. The new question she didn’t believe she’d ever considered. What did a mirror see when presented with itself?

She suspected only Will Graham would ever know.

Aldona had no idea how long she played for, losing all sense of time the way she did when the music truly ensnared her. Even once her hands went still she could feel it echo in her mind, the true rendition that would wait for her when she went home to her piano.

The parlor stood in complete silence for some time as her music came to an end.

“Sister,” Mischa exhaled, drawing Aldonas mind away from the sea of music and breaking the silent awe that lingered in the room.

“Sister,” her little sister repeated, sounding awed and small the way she had when Aldona had first shown her one of the paintings she was actually proud of.

“Truly Aldona I beg you, please write some sheet music.” Her brother whispered, “The world should at least have a glimpse of what music is capable of.”

The sound of her siblings' voices seemed to jar their guests out of whatever spell Aldonas music had woven around them and, led by Mrs.Komeda, they began to clap.

Aldona stood, bowing in receipt of their praise when she finally caught sight of Will Graham. He stood away from the crowd, almost I’m shadow, but he stood damningly still, eyes closed.

Aldona could all but hear the music that still held him. Perhaps she would invite him over to hear the true piece. She thought he’d appreciate it the way he had the harpsichord version.

Hannibal's other dinner guests inundated her with sincere praise, begging for an encore, another chance to hear her play. Aldona smiled at them pleasantly and promised nothing. The other people her brother had invited were incidental. She’d only wanted Hannibal and Will to hear her play.

She was highly skeptical she would feel such strong inspiration again anytime soon. It was the first time it had happened in her current life.

Eventually Hannibal remembered it was significantly later than he planned his dinner party to end. Ever the gracious host he gently herded the crowd that surrounded her back to his table with offers of dessert, leading a discussion about Aldonas hidden musical genius. Mischa shot Aldona a stern glare that promised a long discussion for hiding such a skill from her, but politely followed her brother to brag about her brilliance.

Eventually the room emptied and only Aldona and Will Graham remained.

She was content to stay quiet, watching the after effects of her music shudder through him unhindered by the lack of sound. She was sure Hannibal's other guests had long left by the time the other man made his way out of his trance. Her brother strangely made himself scarce and Aldona wondered who he’d interrogate about their eventual conversation first, her or his ‘not-quite-a-patient.’

Once Will Graham came back to himself and gathered some coherence he looked at with a hunger that surprised her. She held his stare, waiting for him to ask the questions burning behind his eyes.

“Are you like me?” He asked her roughly, “Is that why Dr.Lecter is so good at dealing with me? Experience?”

“Not quite,” Aldona answered in part, “Hannibal is so good at dealing with you because he has never flinched from any aspect of himself, and thus has no problem with the idea that you could see him in his entirety given the chance.”

“It was like you took everything about who I am as a person and made it into sound, how could you have done that if you can’t see people the way I do?” He was still trembling from the experience.

“You see bits and pieces that you eventually put together into understanding someone as if you had walked in their shoes,” Aldona told the poor empath before her, “I have a distinct instinct for people, an accurate one, but I don’t need many specifics to understand them.”

It had become ingrained after all of the lifetimes she’d lived, people may be endlessly complicated but humanity could only be so original when it came to the type of people out there. Aldona rarely ran into new ones. Even Will, distinct and unique a soul as he was, wasn't in any way foreign to Aldona who had met telepaths and the like.

Although It was why she’d found Will Graham so interesting, he worked so fundamentally differently than most of the people Aldona had seen in her current life. Like seeing a poppy in a field of daffodils.

She watched him digest her words in silence.

“That’s almost terrifying,” Will Graham said eventually.

Aldona chuckled, “Why only almost?”

“I can’t help but be glad that someone out there can understand me after all,” he admitted to her quietly.

“You are a singular existence mister Graham,” Aldona complemented, “I would like to invite you to listen to this piece on the piano. It’s my preferred medium when it comes to music, no matter what my brother will tell you about the harpsichord's prowess.”

He looked at her wide eyed, “I’d like that, please call me Will. You have just shown how intimately you understand me, it feels a little silly to hear you call me by my last name.”

“Will then,” She nodded her concession, “You must call me Aldona, please get my number from Hannibal and we shall make an appointment.”

It had been a very long time since Aldona made a friend. She was looking forward to it.

What Aldona had not looked forward to was her little sister's scolding, worse yet was how hurt Mischa was by the musical secret, and trying to hide it.

“I play once or twice a year in the face of Hannibal's badgering-you remember he wanted us to learn together.” Aldona tried to excuse herself.

“You don’t get that phenomenal level of skill without constant practice,” Mischa refuted.

Aldona raised a quiet eyebrow at her sister, letting her silence speak for itself. They both knew Aldona faced very little in excelling at whatever caught her attention.

“Fine,” Mischa capitulated with ill grace, “but you have to play for Chiyoh, Hana, and Hinata. It’s only fair the whole family gets to hear you play.”

“Fair enough.” Aldona agreed.

“And you have to play for every major holiday.” Mischa continued, shamelessly pushing her luck.

“We’ll see,” Aldona said placidly, perhaps she would indulge the rest of her family when she was feeling kind.

“Oh!” Mischa exclaimed as if it had just occurred to her, “We could hold a concert for the new year! I could cover the venue with my most famous orchids and exhibit some of your paintings. I would even let Hannibal cater the intermission. It would be the event of the century sister, our family would become famous for it. We’d be in the papers for months.”

“And you wondered why I never wanted to play for you,” Aldona said blandly. She didn’t know who was more of an attention whore, her twin or her little sister. ”No.”

Will messaged her to ask when he should drop by before Hannibal tracked her down to ask about the conversation.

It mystified Aldona that it had taken her brother so long to ask about their conversation when she had expected him to barge in with the excuse of offering breakfast the very next day.

It took her brother three days to come over with dinner and start the conversation Aldona had been anticipating.

“Your interpretation of Will left me too much to think about,” Hannibal explained, “I never realized how clearly you could see someone, sister. I always thought you knew Mischa and myself so well because we all grew up together. But then-you’ve never really paid enough attention to anyone else to form an opinion.”

“Did I show you something you were missing about him?” Aldona asked, curious despite herself. Her brother was a shrewd soul and he very rarely misjudged someone in her impression.

“I never thought the edge in him so sharp,” her brother admitted, “I thought him significantly more malleable than the way you showcased him. I thought I would have to sharpen him myself. I see now that it was the wrong approach to take.”

“You were going to pile on the pressure on the hopes of creating a diamond, weren’t you?” Her brother seldom missed his chance to be a sadist.

“I thought he needed me to show him he could be at home in the dark places in his mind.” Hannibal said with aplomb, “I am a very effective psychiatrist sister dear.”

Aldona snorted, “You were going to try to break him. You just realized you’d fail.”

“I would have succeeded,” Hannibal protested, “He would have just been more aware of my machinations than I foresaw.”

“Even you at your worst couldn’t completely shatter a mind that has withstood Will’s gift without losing his sense of self.” Aldona said, “You are a successful psychiatrist, not a miracle worker.”

“We can agree to disagree,” her brother sniffed, “I wanted to push him far enough to see the beauty in his nightmares.”

“He sees that beauty brother, that’s his problem.” Will still wanted to look away from the darkest parts of himself.

“I don’t understand what’s holding back his Becoming.” Hannibal sighed, “I know it’s just a matter of time if he’s this close but I must confess myself quite impatient.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Aldona teased, “You need every opportunity to practice the skill or you will never get any better at it.”

“I am plenty patient,” Hannibal protested.

Aldona raised a disbelieving eyebrow and Hannibal left in a huff of pretend ruffled feathers. She was half his impulse control and he never listened to her. It was only a matter of time before Hannibal convinced himself some terrible idea was absolutely imperative for Will to surrender to his darker impulses and accompany Hannibal in his murder hobby.

All he actually had to do was give Will time and opportunity-but Aldona didn't see the point in helping her brother influence the poor empath. She enjoyed her time with her new friend and took care to never mention her brother when they spent time together.

Instead they discussed their insights into people. Aldona grew fond of accompanying Will to places in order for people to watch and try to see which one of them could figure out the most accurate information based on nothing but their gifts for observation. Then they would wander over to their subjects for confirmation.

It was fun and strangely relaxing, novel in the way Aldona found very few things to be these days. Will was a good friend to have. It was a shame Hannibal wanted so much more from him. So Aldona enjoyed the time socializing with the mostly sane version of him while she could.

Then she received a text message from Will informing her that he was both in the hospital and suffering from encephalitis. Something her brother wouldn’t have informed him about until the moment he felt such an important piece of information was most useful and Aldona knew her time was up.

Hannibal had made his move.

Chapter Text

It takes a few more weeks for Hannibal's game to take off in earnest.

Aldona visited Will in the hospital. She noticed when his gaze grows blank, when he stopped meeting her eyes. Her visits taper off as she waits. Her brother knows exactly what he's doing, he just hasn’t seen fit to share what that is. He won’t ask her for her assistance, which is just as well. Her only job seemed to be that of a bystander. Watching her brother weave his web and watch her one and only friend became more and more entangled in it.

She knew they were all in quite deep when she received a visit from Alana Bloom. She recognized the woman from her brother's dinner parties but she couldn’t recall ever having a conversation with her, though both Will and Hannibal were quite fond of her.

“Hello miss Lecter,” Alana Bloom greeted with the face of someone about to deliver terrible news. Aldona spotted the armed escort of FBI agents and wondered what her brother had done.

“I take it I'm in some sort of legal trouble?” Aldona hazard a guess.

“Earlier tonight Hannibal Lector was apprehended and charged with twenty one counts of murder as the Chesapeake Ripper. He has also been charged for attempted murder of an FBI agent. As both his sister and next door neighbor you will be brought in for questioning as we search your home for evidence of collusion.”

Aldona nodded, Hannibal had let himself be caught then. He truly was more trouble than he was worth, Mischa would be devastated, “I see.”

Alana looked at her, incredulous. “That’s it? Did you already know?”

Aldona ignored her, she knew better than to say anything damning, let alone anything that could be used against her without a lawyer present.

“I will have to open the vault I converted my cellar to as breaking in is quite the task and opening it requires biometrics.” She had to cooperate as fully as she was able, it looked less suspicious that way. It would look bad enough when she lawyered up soon regardless, but Aldona didn’t have to dive right into it with her brother. “It holds some of the paintings I’ve created nearest and dearest to my heart. I will ask that you and your escort treat them with utmost care, some of them were years in the making.”

“Your brother is the Chesapeake Ripper and you are concerned about your paintings?” Alana Bloom snarled.

“It’s my life’s work,” Aldona replied, serene. “Now, if you will follow me?”

Foolishly they did. If Aldona had ever helped Hannibal terrorize the tristate area she would have easily killed the men that came to arrest her and then gone on the lamb. It would hardly be the first time. Fortunately for the officers Aldonas psyche tended more towards apathy and depression than violence.

Very fortunately-As Shikako she had learned the language of violence quite well. She never had any trouble picking it up again. But Aldona did not play murder games with her brother so she allowed the men to keep their lives and follow her to her cellar.

The FBI agent’s paused in tandem once they reached Aldonas vault. The door was a model usually only banks invested in, with a comically large steel door. She’d found it amusing when she chose it, and Hannibal had insisted they go the extra mile with the biometrics.

“It’s something of a private gallery for friends and family,” Alana explained as she opened it, “the layout is fairly simplistic, and the paintings not on display are stored in the closet of the last room. Once again I beseech you to treat my work gently-most of it won’t survive any rough handling.”

“It’s so beautiful,” Alana Bloom exhaled reverently, “I’ve never seen anything like this in your past exhibitions!”

“I keep the best of my work for my family and myself.” Aldona said, “Like I said before, it's my life’s work. I'm willing to cooperate to the best of my ability-just don’t damage anything, please.”

“I won’t let them break anything,” Alana Bloom swore, “I’ll supervise everything myself. It would be a sin to damage anything in here.”

“I will take you at your word,” Alana told the woman before her seriously. She wasn’t actually particularly attached to anything in the Vault but Hannibal and Mischa would cry if anything happened to their precious family heirlooms. “I’m ready to follow you down to the station.”

The following interviews were almost amusing, several officers accused her of helping her brother kill people, desecrate bodies and eat their body parts. Aldona denied any knowledge of her brother's activities and insisted on her own innocence, her lawyer made a scene about their lack of proof.

“Are you not tired Miss Lecter? I’m told you haven’t slept since you came down to the station,” It was an older detective asking, he believed her guilty of aiding and abetting.

“I often go without sleep if I’m working on a painting and lose sense of time.” Aldona said pleasantly. She’d answered the foulest of their accusations pleasantly, it had not endeared her to cops.

“Does your brother ever help you with your paintings?” It was a leading question, and it had been asked about six times before.

“No, my brother and I have very different aesthetics. It’s why we don’t live together. I consider his home gaudy and he thinks mine plain. Asking us to collaborate on anything would be a disaster.”

“And yet you chose to live right next door to your brother. Are you really claiming you never saw anything strange-nothing to make you suspicious of his actions?”

“The only tasteless hobby my brother ever informed me of having was taking married people to bed.” Aldona said primly, “On the off chance I noticed his car missing I would have attributed it to him stealing a few hours with one of his many lovers.”

“Tasteless hobby?” The detective snarled at her, “Is that what you’re calling the murder and desecration of twenty one people and the attempted murder of Will Graham?”

“Will Graham? My brother tried to kill Will-is he alright?” Aldona demanded, she’d assumed the FBI agent everyone had mentioned was some nameless casualty of her brother's arrest, no one had bothered to tell her Will was hurt. It did explain why they hadn’t tried to use their relationship to leverage a ‘confession’ from her though.

The detective seemed surprised to have Aldona react so passionately to his words, but he was quick to try to leverage it. “Your brother gutted him like a fish. Will Graham is still fighting for his life in the hospital last I heard. That’s the monster you're shielding, one with no respect for human life.”

Things must have gotten out of hand for Hannibal to hurt the man he was so fixated on. Well-unless it was a part of his game of course. “I understand you believe my brother to be a serial killer of some notoriety, officer. But on the off chance he is-I truly had no knowledge or part of his activities.”

The detective snorted, “The boys tell me you didn’t even change your expression when they told you why your brother was arrested-even if you truly didn’t help him, you must have known something.”

“My brother never hid the well of ice in his soul from me.” Aldona said quietly, dropping her voice and letting her gaze go distant. Minor ques that would incline the officer to believe her this time. “I never saw any evidence that would so much as suggest Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper-but when I was informed that he was considered a culprit I wasn’t surprised. He fits the profile and there is very little my brother isn’t capable of, should it suit his fancy. I do believe it is a misunderstanding, however.”

Or it would be proven so given time. Hannibal wasn’t stupid enough to get himself arrested without a back up plan.

The detective was interrupted before he could ask anything else, evidently her lawyer was making an issue of how long Aldona had been questioned. They had to release her or charge her with something.

Considering the glaring lack of evidence, Aldona was finally released.

Aldona decided to stop by the hospital before she made her way over to Mischa's home. She wanted to check on Will before attempting to comfort her little sister. If her brother hadn’t killed him then he would have gutted him just so-to allow Will to survive, but Aldona wanted to see his state with her own eyes.

She arrived just in time to kick the camera out of a too aggressive reporter's hands while she tried to take a picture of Will and his unfortunate colostomy bag. By the time Aldona confiscated the woman's memory card and had her escorted off the premises even her stamina began to flag and she found herself falling asleep in the visitors chair in Will's recovery room.

It was where a very upset Mischa found her.

“Aldona,” Mishka had hissed in furious french, shaking her awake, “Aldona-you cannot be sleeping here in this bastard's room, do you know he accused our brother of being the Chesapeake Ripper!”

Aldona had blinked blearily at her little sister before gathering her bearings and realizing Will was awake. He was pretending his unconsciousness for her little sister's benefit-or perhaps his own protection. Mischa was understandably upset with the man that had her brother arrested.

“I don’t care if Hannibal was in love with him or you were-you can’t, you can’t be with someone who would hurt our family like this.” Mischa was trying not to cry, miraculously keeping her voice down even as her tone surged with venom.

“Mischa-it’s not Will’s fault Hannibal is-well the way he is.” Aldona finally murmured.

“You can’t be serious?” Mischa demanded, “You can’t believe their story about our brother! Hannibal isn’t a serial killer, he’s an asshole and a perfectionist-not, not a killer.”

“Mischa,” Aldona said softly, apologetically. It would be proven otherwise to the world at large given time and her brothers plans but-Mischa was old enough to make her own choices now. She deserved to know who her siblings were.

“No-no!” Mischa denied even as tears ran down her eyes, “He can’t-he wouldn’t feed us people Aldona! He wouldn’t do that to us-to you!”

“I promise you he didn’t eat anyone or feed them to us,” Aldona said, the sole concession her brother had granted her in the face of his pathology, “But Mischa-he killed a lot of people, took their organs and fed them to all the people he didn't like in the dinner parties he threw and didn’t invite us to.”

“No,” Mischka whimpered, “No-our brother is fussy. He refused to let Hana back into his office that time she spilled a little ink-he wouldn't murder someone-murder is messy.”

“I'm so sorry little sister,” Aldona whispered.

“Did you know?” Mischa moaned softly, “Did you help him? Is that why you’re so sure?”

“I never helped him,” Aldona promised, not with his murders as the ripper-anyway.”I suspected, but he’s my brother Mischa-I didn’t want it to be true.”

Their lives would have been much more peaceful if Hannibal wasn’t a serial killer.

“Then how do you know?” Mischa demanded, “How are you sure he’s never fed us-my kids, our family, people?”

“Because he promised me he wouldn’t eat people back in Lithuania and Hannibal keeps his promises to me.” She did ask for remarkably little from him.

“Lithuania?” Mischka asked-some of her anger fading into confusion, “Why would Hannibal want to eat people back in Lithuania? There wasn’t anyone else in our estate-did he want to eat me?”

Aldona sighed, “You were probably too young to remember, but before we bred rabbits for meat we got attacked by a brigand. They ate most of our food before-well. It was a hard winter.”

“Did Hannibal kill them?” Mischa asked, “Did he want to eat them and you wouldn’t let him.”

“I made him promise not to eat human meat, we went hungry-but we survived.” Aldona answered, “But Hannibal didn’t kill those people, Mischa. I did.”

Mischa went white, hands trembling, “But the screams-Hannibal was with me, I was so scared. Those terrible screams.”

Aldona sighed softly, of course Mischka remembered, “I was the better hunter between Hannibal and I-I just wanted to secure a little more meat before winter hit in earnest when I came home to find those people in our castle, eating the food. I was... upset at the thought of us starving to death. I took it out on the one responsible. He was a former employee of our parents, his name was Benas, he’d been our steward. He ran away with all the servants when our parents were executed-but he kept the keys. He came back with the brigade and let them into our home-I was so angry Mischa, I wasn’t thinking.”

Mischa made a punched out little sound, “Am I the only Lecter without blood on my hands?”

Aldona felt her lip quirk with Irony, “Well your children are two others so don’t worry-innocents still outnumber the murderers in our family.”

Mischa snorted softly, “That's a reach.”

Aldona shrugged, wondering briefly how much of their conversation Will had understood, “In a few generations we can work off the family's infamy.”

“Infamy?” Mischa said caustically, “Our life is over. Someone spray painted cannibals onto our garage. I can’t send my kids back to school and considering what you said about the dinner parties-all hope of a social life is lost.”

“Perhaps our family should leave America behind-sister?” Aldona offered, “We could explore Asia? Stay wherever best draws our fancy.”

“I'll talk to Chiyoh about it,” Mischa murmured in resignation, and turned to leave.

“I know you're awake,” Aldona said, once she judged her sister had gone far enough not to overhear, “I apologize for the family drama.”

Will started a laugh he immediately aborted, “Don’t make me laugh. Your brother cut me open, it hurts too much to laugh.”

“I'm surprised to find you so amicable to my presence,” Aldona admitted, “I had assumed you believed me equally guilty of my brother's sins.”

“Your only sin is willful ignorance,” Will said, “I know you, you don’t have enough emotional investment in other people to go out of your way to kill someone. You were just happy to ignore what your brother did.”

Aldona shrugged, “What's that charming English saying? ‘Ignorance is bliss?’”

Will huffed softly in amusement, “I told you not to make me laugh. I’m surprised you’re being so calm about finding out the extent of your brother's kills.”

“I'm sure you’ve known Hannibal long enough to realize he's an overachiever.” Aldona dismissed, “I would have been more surprised if he’d stopped at three or four.”

Will bit his lip and Aldona could see him chastise himself for finding her words so funny.

“I’m glad you’re alive Will, whatever enmity you and my brother share now,” Aldona told him, because it was true and she didn’t want to lose her only friend if she didn’t have to, “I would like your permission to come and visit you again.”

Will smiled at her, small and slightly disbelieving, “I’d like that-and, when you see him, please tell your brother I’m sorry.”

Aldona scoffed at that, “You and I both know he’s the one that should apologize for your new gut wound. Don’t forgive him so easily-Hannibal is the type to take advantage of that.”

Will choked-then narrowed his eyes at her thoughtfully, “You’re acting like we’re still friends. Your brother and I, I mean?”

“Aren't you?” Aldona questioned softly and left the words lingering in the room behind her. It was just a matter of time until they were more-whatever reckless gambit her brother had made had succeeded, if only in part. Will was nowhere near as upset by his stab wound as he should be.

She didn’t know how many balls her brother currently had in the air, and wouldn’t know the best course of action to take until she saw him, but keeping options open was a good habit that had served her well in her impossibly long life. Giving Will something to think about was a great way of doing that.

Cheered by the thought of Will becoming her brother in law, Aldona went to find out when she could have her house back.

The answer-Her lawyer being the magician he was, was very soon. It took exactly another twenty four hours before Aldona was back in her own bed and making inquiries about when she could go see her brother. She resumed painting her time away in between brief visits to Will's hospital room and finally offered to have him transferred to a private hospital willing to keep his rabid red headed stalker away, framed as compensation for her brother being the one responsible for his wound, her friend's pride being what it was.

Will had shot her a very unamused stare to inform her he knew exactly what she was doing. Then he took her offer anyway because he was getting fairly desperate to get away from Freddy Lounds.

A few days after she’d finally gotten Will into an institution that could protect his privacy Aldona’s
lawyer informed her that her request to see her brother had been approved. She was directed to Baltimore's Hospital for the Criminally Insane and led past some very aggressive characters in what was no doubt a bid to scare her. Aldona didn’t so much as flinch.

She silently followed the orderly who had been tasked with escorting her until she finally found herself before her brother's cell. Hannibal's eyes crinkled with delight at the sight of her and Aldona scowled at him.

“Now, now dear sister, what has you so upset?” Her bastard brother greeted innocently.

“You stabbed Will,” Aldona scolded, “We like Will.”

“Will betrayed me and needed to be punished.” Hannibal said, smiling with boyish charm. “I simply thought I’d take a leaf from your book.”

Aldona rolled her eyes, “I don’t recall ever disemboweling you.”

Hannibal chuckled, “A missed opportunity on your part dear sister. It would have been an interesting scar.”

“Like the smile you’ve gifted your friend?” Aldona said, arching a brow.

“It will be a poignant reminder I expect more honesty moving forward.” Hannibal said, serene. “How is dear Will recovering?”

“He’s doing better than expected,” Aldona said, “Although I’ve had to fend off a pushy reporter desperate for a picture of his colostomy bag several times.”

“The ever irrepressible miss Lounds, I take it?”

“The one and only.” Aldona confirmed,”I expect a lawsuit from her any day now.”

“Whatever for?” Hannibal asked with interest.

“Destruction of property, perhaps assault, whatever is most sensational she can get away with suing me with I suppose.”

Hannibal laughed, “I suppose you would like an apology?”

“It would be nice,” Aldona allowed, “If I had any hope it held an ounce of sincerity.”

“So cruel, sister dear,” Hannibal teased, “You must make up for such terrible assertions about my character. I have never apologized with anything but the utmost sincerity. I will require a game of chess to appease me.”

Hannibal clearly planned to stay caught for some time then. Aldona gave a put upon sigh, “Pawn to B-3”

They played their mental game uninterrupted, Hannibal losing as always. Then another orderly came to escort her away and Aldona promised to visit again the next week.

The orderly leads her to what she supposed was the office of the man in charge.

She finds a stranger, Alana Bloom, and someone she recognizes from the papers. Jack Crawford, head of the BAU. She’d only made a note of him as Will's boss, though the way his eyes sear into her let’s her know that the disinterest was far from mutual.

“Good evening,” Aldona says pleasantly, her manners being what they are.

“Miss Lecter,” the thin reedy man Aldona assumed ran the BSHCI affects a bow. It’s smarmy and Aldona had already known she wanted nothing to do with the man the moment she laid eyes on him, the burning look he gives her is confirmation she hadn’t needed, “Frederick Chilton, a pleasure to meet you.”

Aldona smiled blandly, “Aldona Lecter, mister Chilton.”

She does not return the sentiment, turning to the rest of the people in the room with the air of expectation.

Alana Bloom cleared her throat, “Aldona, this is Jack Crawford, head of the BAU and the man personally responsible for your brother's case.”

“Mr.Crawford,” Aldona acknowledged, her bland smile still planted firmly on her lips.

“I would like to know if you are willing to testify against your brother during his trial, Miss Lecter.” Jack said, eyes trained carefully on her face. It’s an obvious manipulation-he wanted Aldona to feel pressure, to comply in order to establish herself as separate from the monster they have judged her brother to be.

It’s also quite useless on Aldona who could not give less of a shit who her brother killed or how he went about it. The only deaths she could not easily forgive him for causing are Mischas, Chiyoh, and their nephews. She might even manage to dredge up some rage on Wills behalf, but the rest of the people on their little blue planet matter to Aldona not at all.

“He may be a monster,” Aldona says peacefully, “But he is my brother. I won’t testify against him.”

Jack's eyes narrowed as if Aldona had failed some crucial test. She knows many people will believe she helped her brother commit his atrocities, and the head of the BAU is reasonably one of them.

Surprisingly-judging from the way Alana Bloom bites her lip in distress, she might not be one of them.

“A touching sentiment,” Jack Crawford says tightly, “Is that what you tell yourself when you come visit your brother and play games of chess?”

“He’s my twin,” Aldona replied, serene, “It’s a bond not many can understand.”

“Is that why he threw your chess game?” Chilton asked, curiosity burning in his eyes. It’s quite pathetic that the man believes her brother is so infallible. Someone has clearly brought into the prestige of the Chesapeake Ripper. She’d happily inform her brother if she didn’t think he already knew. Chilton is not a man her brother could not see through.

Not like Will.

Aldona doesn’t acknowledge the question beyond a neutral hum. Manners being so prized in the Lecter household had left a stronger mark on her than she had assumed.

“Has he thrown your chess games often,” Alana Bloom asks her carefully.

The question coming from someone both Will and her brother like, Aldona chooses to be honest, “My brother has never beat me in a game of chess in his life. He simply enjoys being intellectually challenged.”

Something around Jack Crawford’s mouth goes tight. If she were Will, Aldona would know exactly what the agent was thinking. Being Aldona, she understands that the man is now considering whether Aldona is the mastermind behind the Chesapeake Ripper. It’s the sudden hostility on the agent's behalf that clues her in, no matter how he tries to hide it-people can’t hide much from Aldona these days.

“I spoke to your brother about you,” Alana Bloom says, “He said he would never think to humiliate you by serving you substandard fare like long pig. He’s always been so proud of you-especially the paintings in your private gallery. Do you think he hid his murders from you because you would be disappointed in him?”

It’s a mildly hilarious question, “I don’t think my brother values my opinion to the extent that implies. He’s simply enamored deeply enough with the arts to appreciate my skill in the subject.”

“So you believe he holds no familial affection for you?” Chilton interrupts their conversation.

It wouldn’t be an alarming question if Aldona couldn’t read the way his mouth lingers on the word familial. Of course the substandard psychiatrist before her is attempting to pitch Hannibal's pathology on some Freudian incestual desire.

“My brother loves me as I’m his younger sister.” Aldona says, the bland smile sliding into something colder and notably more dangerous. Chilton-whose gaze Aldona holds steps back subconsciously. A herbivore that’s spotted an apex predator. It’s not helping Jack Crawford’s impression of her, but Aldona is quite sure she doesn’t care, “As twins however-there is no older or younger dynamic. Our roles were always set by who was best suited for what. As I was smarter and more mature, I often took the lead. Especially since I grew physically larger before he did.”

“Physically larger?” Alana Bloom, being the only person with two brain cells to rub together in the room, continues to ask the interesting questions. “Did you fight often?”

“As most siblings do,” Aldona lied easily.

“Did it ever get serious?” Alana Bloom continues her interrogation, “like when you stabbed your brother?”

It’s confirmation she doesn’t need that he meeting with Hannibal was monitored, “You would have to be more specific. I stabbed him several times when we were younger. He could be often trying and needed a stronger deterrent to dissuade him from behavior I found distasteful.”

“Distasteful?” Alana Bloom asked carefully.

“Behavior like murder?” Chilton scoffs and Aldona wishes the man would leave her and Alana to their significantly more pleasurable conversation-Aldona can see why both Will and her brother like the astute woman, “Or cannibalism?”

Aldona gave the man her best ‘you waste of space how dare you breathe my air’ heiress face, and turned the entirety of her attention back to Alana Bloom, “He often had to be discouraged from being mean to Mischa.”

“Ah yes-the sister that has sent a letter to the Baltimore post denouncing your brother and claiming he will be struck from the family genealogy.” Jack Crawford said, “I find myself wondering why you didn’t take similar steps.”

“Mischa will never forgive Hannibal for his arrest,” Aldona acknowledges simply, more for the stain on the family name and the scandal than the murder-if she’s honest, “She will never speak to him again. You might even have some luck convincing her to testify against him during his trial.”

“But you do?” Jack Crawford said leadingly, “You forgive your brother for everything he’s done?”

Aldona smiled ruefully, “It seems there’s very little I can’t forgive my brother.”

“Including stabbing Will Graham?” Jack Crawford asked, suddenly and sly-like he believed he caught a handle of some sort, “How does Will feel about that? I’m told you’ve often visited him in the hospital. You even had him transferred to a private facility.”

“Will is a dear friend,” Aldona said, “Of course I did my best to offer recompense on my brother's behalf-he’s been very understanding about my position in all of this.”

“Understanding?” Chilton gwaffed, “How understanding can you be about attempted murder?”

Aldona happily ignores his existence.

“Agent Graham was injured in the line of duty and the FBI was covering all of his hospital bills,” Jack Crawford said, snidely, “Paying a few hospital bills is nothing to help him. Why wouldn’t you want to help Will put away the man who almost killed him?”

Jack Crawford seemed to believe Aldona to be as taken with Will Graham as her brother was. Considering that Hannibal outed himself as the Chesapeake Ripper and intended to stay in custody for an unspecified amount of time in order to win over aforementioned empath-the very thought almost made Aldona burst out laughing.

Instead she bit her lip, tucking the conversation away as something to amuse both Will and her brother with at a later date, hopefully around a dinner table over a family meal in some distant future, “I believe this conversation is becoming rather circular-so let us end it where it began; He may be a monster, but he is my brother. I will refrain from doing or saying anything I believe will assist the case against him.”

They aren’t happy when Aldona leaves. They also aren’t happy every subsequent visit, where Aldona and Hannibal play their chess games and speak in the meandering way they do.

Chilton seems fairly convinced they’re speaking in some sort of code. Aldona supposed they are-if a twin's ability to understand the layers of meaning behind another twin's words counts as a code. Aldona personally considers it a language of their own.

Alana always manages to tease her into some extended conversation, mostly because Aldona allowed it. But the ending of every visit was the same. Aldona fully acknowledged her brother's atrocities-and she refused to help put him away.

Personally she doesn’t know why they bother. She thinks it’s the puzzle she represents. Hannibal never speaks of her with anything but effusive fondness and pride. They see the relationship between her and her twin as Hannibal's lone human tie to the world. Which was rather insulting to Mischa, her nephews, and Will. Hannibal liked Chiyoh well enough-but he doesn’t hold real affection for her. Not the way he does for those he truly sees as his, especially the way Aldona is; his twin.

Chilton does his best to interpret it as incestous and romantic, while Jack Crawford seems to believe she’s been using her brother or influencing him in his serial killer habits. Alana Bloom seems to be clinging to what she represents as Hannibal's last chance at some sort of humanity.

She had truly looked up to Aldonas brother once. It was probably why he’d been so fond of her-the narcissist.

It shouldn’t surprise her that once Will is well enough he joins the meetings. The latest orderly has led her to Chiltons office before seeing her brother. Aldona wishes she’d seen her brother first. It would be annoying to have made the trip for nothing if she has to leave before she forgets herself and plans to remove anyone in the office from this mortal coil. It would be deeply suspicious if any of the main players in Hannibal's case disappeared-no matter how incidental Aldona made their death appear.

“Good morning everyone,” Aldona greets, a bland pleasant smile appearing dutifully on her lips. She is a Lecter-she must show good manners.

Everyone greets her in turn, except for Will who has a deeply strange look on his face.

“You’ve been coming to see your brother this entire time?” Will asked. It was not a Will kind of question, the anticipation building behind Jack Crawford’s eyes spoke for itself.

Aldona nodded, “I’ve made no secret of it.”

“Even after he tried to kill me?” Will said, he sounded exhausted. Aldona wished he’d stayed longer in the private hospital she’d provided, he was still healing and the pressure from his superiors was already making him do things he didn't want to.

They both know Hannibal hadn’t made an honest attempt on his life.

If Hannibal had wanted him to die-Will would be dead. But Hannibal is a drama queen and he’d been quite displeased at the time. He’d pushed Will to the very edge.

“He’s my brother,” Aldona answered, as she always did to those increasingly silly questions. Her answer will never change, she doesn’t understand why that’s not evident yet.

“I watched your interview videos from when they first questioned you.” Will said-and they are finally getting to the things Will actually wanted to say. Perhaps the reason he’d dragged himself to the BSHCI in a wheelchair, even. “You said Hannibal never ‘hid the well of ice in his soul’ from you? How could you be so willfully blind then?”

Will was very upset and tried to hide it. Aldona was probably more amused than she should be, “If I had a brother with a brain aneurysm he could die at any time, any place. You could only live so long with the fear at the forefront of your mind. Being Hannibal's twin was similar. Technically he was capable of all he did from the time he developed a personality of his own. It may have felt inevitable that one day he would hurt someone to some great extent. But I had no way of knowing when that valve would blow-or if it ever would.”

Technically she’d only watched the inciting incident-her uncle was quite beyond saving by the time she’d made her way back to that office.

Wills eyes narrowed, he knew there was more, many things she wasn’t saying, but he couldn’t deny the truth of her words. He knew she could see as deeply into people's characters as he did-and he’d missed her brother at first, and then figuring him out would only get more difficult as they got closer-it was significantly easier to be objective about a stranger, after all.

He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to see her brother as a practicing serial killer. Not when he’d no doubt ignored plenty of signs himself. Aldona briefly wondered how long he’d turned his eyes away from what his brother was before admitting it to himself.

Probably longer than he could justify to himself, judging from how upset he was.

“You’re smarter than him, are you trying to tell me there’s nothing you could have done?” Will said, low and heated.

Aldona truly missed being the dumber twin. That first second life had been good to her in ways she can only appreciate in hindsight. It’s always so much responsibility-being the smart twin, being the one in charge when her reason and sanity have been worn away by the juggernaut of her existence.

“I’m fairly certain I’m the reason Hannibal found an artistic medium all his own I wouldn’t compete in with him,” Aldona says dryly, “There isn’t anything I’ve tried my hand at I can’t best him in.”

She really liked Will-but Aldona finds she liked him more when she didn’t need to talk about her brother with him so often. The foundation’s of their friendship-understanding and curiosity, rock dangerously when introduced to the variable of Aldonas brother.

She decides not to tell Hannibal. He’d enjoy such a thing far too much. She tries not to please her spoiled twin very often-it would make his already monstrous ego grow to biblical proportions.

“I see,” Will says faintly. Being Will-he does. He sees someone like Hannibal, enamored with excellence and the need to rise above everyone around him saddled with someone like Aldona-more capable than him in every way. If her brother didn’t love her, she would have been the first person he killed.

She would have let him. Aldona is the literal opposite of invested in her continued existence.

“Is that why you’re so willing to forgive him?” Alana Bloom asked, “Do you feel guilty for excelling so much artistically your brother couldn’t compete?”

Aldona smiled at the woman sardonically. She rather thought trying to be too clever was a rock Alana Bloom stumbled over often. A good rule of thumb for the psychiatric field was that Occam’s razor had no place. The most simple answer was very rarely the correct one. “Not exactly-but I don’t imagine it helped.”

“He told me once that his greatest blessing in life had been to be your twin,” Will interrupts abruptly, “He said there was no other time and place that would grace him with so much access to beauty and wonder.”

Aldona's smile turned fond in a heartbeat. She loved her brother, no matter how much trouble he was.

“He meant it.” Will continued slowly, “I think it was the most honest thing he ever said to me. I don’t think you are why he kills.”

But she was.

Perhaps Aldona would one day explain her reasoning to Will-but today was not that day, “We can agree to disagree.”

“Well we thought since Will was here we would do something a little different today,” Chilton interjects himself into the conversation, unlike Will-he’s not interesting or charming enough for Aldona to ignore the sheer rudeness of it. Honestly speaking-if Hannibal doesn’t kill him, Aldona might.

“Will here has some questions for Doctor Lecter.” Jack Crawford picks up the conversation, “we thought we might let you monitor the situation with us and get some insight as to who your brother truly is.”

Will looked at Aldona with apologies in his eyes and she smiled her sympathy at him. She’s never spoken to Will about his work before but this was a clear sign she should-any place of employment willing to dismiss their experts' opinions so thoroughly was clearly toxic.

“Very well,” Aldona agreed simply, entirely for Wills sake. She didn’t miss the so called hidden camera perfectly placed to record her own face. “I hope you find the answers you seek.”

Will makes his way to Hannibal's cage with the orderlies' assistance. Then her brother and Will stare at each other silently for fifteen minutes because they’re clearly equally dramatic soulmates.

Hannibal-ever impatient when it comes to the empath, breaks the silence, “Aldona told me you were recovering well. I’m glad to see the truth of it with my own eyes.”

“I’m surprised you’d take Aldonas word for it,” Will scoffed, “Aren’t you the type to want to see for yourself, doctor?”

“My dear sister is quite the expert on stab wounds,” Hannibal said with a roguish smirk, “her precision with a knife inspired my own interest in anatomy. I lost track of how many times she’d ebbed a knife in me as children-yet I’ve not retained a single scar.”

“Sharp knife?” Will asked, and he doesn’t quite manage to hide the genuine interest in his tone, at least not from Aldona or her twin.

“Terrifyingly so,” Hannibal said with a proud smile, “I used to ask her to sharpen my scalpels. I could never match her ability to get the perfect edge on a blade. All the other surgeons were quite jealous. They thought I kept my sharpening secrets to myself. I could hardly explain my artistic little sister's knack, now could I?”

“And ruin her reputation?” Will asked, sarcasm thick on his tongue.

“Quite,” Hannibal said with aplomb, “Who has ever heard of a blood thirsty artist, after all? Before me, and my stint as the Chesapeake Ripper, of course.”

Will, Aldona was almost embarrassed for him the moment she noticed, was charmed. He was trying not to be, but she’s starting to think the conversation wais what passed for flirting with them and she actually hoped they start talking about murder and leave the topic of her and her gift with blades alone.

“Did she ever inspire you?” Will asked, it was another question that obviously came from someone else, Will knew better.

“Please don’t be so insulting dear Will,” Hannibal said, tone unamused, “I may regret having used such a light hand if you begin to imply my feelings towards my twin are perverse, the way Frederick does.”

Will snorted, incredulous, “He’s what?”

“A stain on the field of psychiatry of course,” Hannibal said, bone dry.

Will-the poor thing, continued to be charmed.

“Worse yet he’s merely following Miss Lounds sensationalism from what I’ve heard. Surely you’ve seen her articles?”

Will looks away, Aldona isn’t particularly surprised the woman continues to be unpleasant in every avenue available to her. Mischa has told Aldona she would be suing the woman on her behalf but she had never specified the reason. On a brighter note Aldona will not have to kill Chilton herself because Hannibal clearly already plans to do so himself.

Miss Lounds as well, Hannibal is not one to be forgiving of such a grave insult. The thought perks up Aldonas mood more than it should. Sometimes Aldona can understand her brother's impulse to rid the world of the rude.

“Quite audacious,” Hannibal continues, thoughtful-and purposely triggers Will. Judging by the way the other man goes string taunt.

“Audacious,” Will said, soft and dangerous. Aldona cannot see his face clearly from the angle of the camera-but she can feel the way her twin's eyes glitter. Hannibal himself is quite charmed by Will and the hints of the sharp blade beneath his skin, “Audacious like gutting someone and then claiming to be friends?”

Hannibal hummed, “Audacious like claiming you killed someone and then lying to entrap a friend? I myself felt quite gutted. Will-I was simply sharing the sentiment.”

Will trembled with rage. At her brother-but some aimed at himself for expecting anything else. Of course Hannibal was unrepentant-Will knew him well enough to know better.

If Hannibal had ever lacked any aspect of humanity-it could never be said to be audacity. Her brother may be the most audacious person Aldona had ever known-and she has known more people than there are stars in the sky.

“I hope you aren’t expecting an apology.” Will said slowly, a master of his own rage, “You won’t be receiving one anytime soon.”

“Likewise,” her brother said amicably, “Although I do hope we’ve both learned our lessons moving forward.”

Will twitched, Aldona knew he would have happily lunged-but for the bars between them. Then-never missing the opportunity to be interesting, or perhaps just unable to fight his constant curiosity about what went on in Hannibal's head, asked, “What lesson have you learned then?”

Hannibal smiled, Aldona could hear it in his voice, “I’ve learned I must be patient. I imagine being imprisoned helps with that kind of thing.”

“Patient?” Will demanded, “You are one of the most patient people I’ve met Doctor Lecter.”

Hannibal chuckled, always happy to be an asshole, “Never in regards to you dear Will.”

Will made a frustrated noise, something caught between a whine and a snarl-then, not trusting himself to continue the conversation, simply walked away.

It was quiet in the office as they wait for Will to return. Aldona kept her amusement from her face. It was telling that Will seemed angrier at himself for still holding her brother to the standards of a normal person than at Hannibal for gutting him. It was telling the way he’d leaned forward before he caught himself and walked away. If given the opportunity-Aldona is unsure as to whether Will would kiss or punch her brother in the face.

Perhaps both. And he knew it too, going by the set of his shoulders as he re-entered Chiltons office.

“May I meet with my brother now?” Aldona requested, unwilling to stick around to play whatever game the so called authorities wanted. “If not I would rather return to my home. I fail to see the purpose of this experiment.”

Alana Bloom shot her a confused look while Chilton squirmed unhappily in his seat. Jack Crawford scowled at her but Aldona was unmoved. Will gave her a wry smile that served as his apologies, “Go ahead. I asked Mathew to wait outside to escort you to his cell.”

“I’ll take my leave after my visit then-good day,” Aldona smiled solely at Will and made her way to her brother's cell. There were still the echoes of warmth in his eyes from Will's recent visit. Whether a punch or a kiss, her brother would happily welcome both from the man he’s so fixated on.

After their greetings Aldona takes the initiative to offer a game. It’s a token of her understanding-she’d wondered why Hannibal had gone so far as to get caught in his game with Will. But she understands now. Will means more to her brother than Aldona had believed him capable of. He might even want what Mischa has with Chiyoh. A family all his own.

It’s hardly a new scenario for her. Aldona has had enough twins marry away over her exhausting lifetime. Moreover it’s Hannibal-if he leaves her, it would never be for long.

She could even go with him, if she was willing to live with Mischa's outrage on the subject. She isn’t though, so she supposed she should invest in properties outside the United States as all holidays will have to become family vacations.

Sadly her subsequent visits to her brother follow the same script. Aldona is asked to observe her brothers conversations with several of the people in the room and they attempt to gather information from her before they allow her to see Hannibal. Aldona mostly smiles blandly and offers useless pleasantries during these interrogations.

At least she does until she arrives at Chiltons office to find Mischa in the monitoring screen. The conversation has clearly just begun as Mischa was only mid rant about how atrocious a human being their brother turned out to be and Hannibal hadn’t even started to egg her on with carefully timed interruptions.

She wondered briefly how they even managed to get Mischa to agree to come see their brother. Aldona would have bet money her sister would have refused on pain of losing a limb. Miraculously Mischa cuts herself off before she properly hit her stride and turned her face away from their brother.

“Aldona didn’t want to tell me what happened. Why she was so willing to forgive you.” Mishka said, “You’re a monster. I know you're a monster-but at least you had the decency to protect us back then. Chiyoh told me about the bodies found outside the estate. I was too young to remember everything-but you killed those men didn’t you? When they attacked our home?”

Hannibal looked at their little sister for a long moment, “Aldona made me promise to keep it from you. She insisted you were too young.”

Oh-this was Mischa trying to protect Aldona. Hannibal indulged her, admitting to killing the men that held them prisoner and staging them outside the estate as a warning to any who thought to make their way inside. Aldona knows she shouldn’t think it’s adorable-but it was. She can see the way Mischa's hackles come all the way down and she finds some sort of peace with her brother's new reputation.

It’s enough for Mischa that Hannibal is willing to take on Aldonas crimes. Her little sister has always adored her-and Aldona decides that when Hannibal decides his incarceration had served its purpose that she would do something for nice for Mischa.

Jack Crawford was partaking in his hobby of glaring at Aldona.

“I thought you said you never knew when your brother would start killing?” He said with strong sarcasm.

“Killing armed men in self defense and becoming the Chesapeake Ripper are distinctly different things,” Aldona said primly.

“The public shaming rings similar,” Will muttered, perfectly audible in the otherwise silent room.

“Lithuania in the midst of revolution was not a kind place.” Aldona said peacefylly. “We did what we had to do to survive.”

“How old were you-when you got attacked?” Alana Bloom asked.

“Too young,” Aldona said with a shrug, “Time keeping became fairly pointless once our parents got executed and the servants looted the place while fleeing their stations.”

“How old were you when your uncle found you?” Will asked instead.

“Twelve and seven respectively,” Aldona said, “according to the dates we were provided.”

“How old were you when your parents got executed?” Alana Bloom asked, sympathy shining in her eyes.

“Seven and two,” Aldona said, “respectively.”

“Five years is a long time for three kids to survive alone in a castle,” Jack Crawford said, eyes thoughtful as he glances at Aldona. He’s finally found a reasonable excuse for why Aldona was so forgiving of her brother, a reason that might even convince him Will is right and Aldona never had anything to do with the Chesapeake Rippers actions.

Aldona is not just shielding a family member now, but one who has saved her life. Someone who killed men much stronger than them in order for her and her sister to survive, or at least so the agent now believes.

“Estate,” Aldona corrects, “And we managed well enough. We almost starved a few times-but that’s quite expected given the location and the time period.”

Will bit his lip, she wondered again how much of the conversation she and Mischa had at his bedside he’d understood. Enough to be charmed by her brother's willingness to take on Aldona's crimes, at least-judging by the complicated look he shoots between the monitor and Aldona.

She decided she’s been helpful enough in assisting Mischa's narrative and defaults to silence until Mischa wraps up her conversation with Hannibal and Aldona was allowed to see her brother and have their customary mental chess match.

There’s a text on her phone from Will asking to stop by her home for a discussion when she leaves and Aldona, mood still far too high from watching her siblings mend their relationship, makes them tea. It takes Will some time to gather his thoughts as they sit in her sitting room.

“You have a stronger influence on your brother than you're willing to admit.” Will said, it was markedly not a question.

“We’re twins,” Aldona replied simply, “We have a stronger influence on each other than we’re consciously aware of, most of the time.” She has noticed the marked differences in her iterations marked by her twins.

“Why did you never try to change him?” Will finally asked, and she could tell from the hungry look in his eyes that it haunted him. The person Hannibal could be if he wasn’t the Chesapeake Ripper.

It was a more honest version of his previous questions. Will wanted to know why she couldn’t mold Hannibal into someone he didn’t hate himself for loving as he does.

“Hannibal has always known exactly who he is.” Aldona said , “He wouldn’t be himself if I could succeed in turning him into someone else.”

Aldona sees the truth of her words hit Will and the very moment they resonate, when he understands that Aldona loves her brother for exactly who he is, grotesque murder hobbies and all.

Will-quite despite himself, does too.

He noticed her looking-seeing him and his feelings the way he witnessed so many others. Aldona sees him brace himself for her judgement, for condemnation that never comes. Then he snorted softly, remembering he was speaking to perhaps the only person in the world that could accept how he felt for her brother, “We wouldn’t want Hannibal to be someone else?”

“We wouldn’t like him as much if he was,” Aldona said honestly.

Will does flinch at that. It was true-and they both knew it. Hannibal was hardly the only one in their relationship looking for unconditional acceptance. If her brother weren’t so taken-so inspired by the macabre, Will wouldn’t feel so compelled by him.

But Will can understand Hannibal's fascination. He understands her brother's talk of ‘Becoming’ in every sense of the word. It’s not just empathy-it’s a shared interest. A pathology of Will's own, one he’s been sublimating with his career choice, whether he’s conscious of it or not. There’s been a potential serial killer in Will all along, and while it has been influenced by every killer whose shoes he walked-it was born of a darkness present in Will long before he began to seek out those he could judge as worse than himself.

Some part of him knows it. Is aware of it enough to choose her brother as it’s mate. Foil a deux, a madness of two, when a particular brand of psychosis meets a complimentary match. It was only a matter of time before they fell in love really.

Will sighed helplessly on her couch, “No. I suppose we wouldn’t.”

Aldona offered to play the man a song on her piano and Will clung to the offer like a drowning man to a raft. Because Aldona has been undoubtedly influenced by her brother she chooses to be an asshole-and plays to her understanding of their shared madness. The way they could fall into each other to become more than they could ever be individually.

Will leaves her home in tears. Aldona doesn’t bother to be offended. Perhaps her brother isn’t the only one who needs to work on his patience regarding Will. Aldona hasn’t had a friend in so long she doesn’t remember what you’re supposed to do when they’re being hard headed.

It's probably not pushing them the she just has, however.

Chapter Text

Will avoided her for a few days afterwards and Aldona didn’t blame him. He was especially quiet until Aldona found a familiar looking woman darkening the entryway of Chilton's office. Then Will just looked pissed, not that anyone else could tell. His face was carefully blank.

It took Aldona a moment to place the face and then she figured out why Will was so upset. Aldona knew a lot of her brother's lovers by sight. Hannibal had never overshared the details, but he never had to when Aldona could read it in his gaze whether or not he considered someone a successful conquest.

The woman who had just left the room was someone Aldona mostly remembered because Hannibal had also slept with the woman’s husband and she’d found that particularly gauche. Her brother had enjoyed playing them against each other for years knowing fully well their family businesses were too entwined for either to divorce. Todd and Kelly Norton were a running gag her brother had started their very first week in America-he’d been enjoying playing with them ever since.

Aldona had witnessed the passionate longing glances the couple shared with her brother at nearly every art exhibit Aldona had held in Baltimore since they arrived.

Seeing Kelly Norton in the BHCI could only mean Hannibal’s plan was getting close to fruition. It also seemed to be working beautifully, going by the cautious hope on Alana Bloom's face and the quiet fury Will had rediscovered.

“Have you seen that woman before?” Alana Bloom asked as Aldona made her way into Chiltons office.

“I believe she’s had an affair with my brother,” Aldona admitted easily.

“Have they been together long?” Chilton interjected.

Aldona usually preferred to ignore the peon's very existence but if it was for her brother's game…Well-Aldona was perfectly aware of her tendency to indulge him beyond reason.

“They met at the first soiree Hannibal and I attended in the states,” Aldona said, “I believe their affair began scant weeks later and has continued on and off ever since.”

Aldona decided not to mention that Hannibal had taken down the womans closeted but homosexual husband down that very week. Aldona had spotted him failing to sneak out of Hannibal's home when she had let herself in for a promised breakfast.

“She says that it’s impossible for your brother to be the Chesapeake Ripper-that he was with her when the murders were being commited.” Jack Crawford said, eyes trained on Aldonas face to await her reaction to the news.

Aldona didn’t give him one-perfectly aware that her brother had several plans in place to prove his so-called innocence. He wasn’t incarcerated awaiting to be punished, he was incarcerated awaiting for the love of his life to catch a clue. So Aldona hummed non committedly at his words and said nothing.

The next week two men broke into her home.

It didn’t end well for them-Aldona being who she was, but she does let them live and only brains one with a metal vase and tosses the other down the stairs. Then she calls the police.

She finds herself in an interrogation room, which is incredibly rude as she was clearly the victim and she didn’t even kill anyone-though it seems the man she tossed down the stairs never walking again is being taken as purposeful. Which it was-but they have no proof, so Aldona doesn’t say a word until her lawyer arrives and she makes her way home in time to shower and take off to her weekly meeting at BSHCI.

Chilton made noises about the attack but Aldona had long prefered to ignore the walking dead behind the desk and instead turned her attention towards Will.

“I don’t suppose you have any idea who sent those men after me?” Aldona asked blandly. The attack was her brother's fault, Alana didn’t acknowledge others exist often enough to make enemies.

“I’m planning to talk to him about that today,” Will said, hunching his shoulders, incredibly embarrassed. He clearly felt some responsibility for her attack as well then.

“Please go ahead,” Aldona gestured towards the door regally and Will had the equanimity to blush as he made his way to Hannibal's cell and appeared on the monitor she’s certain Chilton hasn’t once turned off since her brother became incarcerated.

“Aldonas home was broken into last night,” Will began, he and her brother have long been past greetings.

“I assume her assailants are hospitalized then?” Hannibal said without so much as a hint of concern, “The last man to try it lost a kidney.”

Will slumped slightly, not quite able to bring himself to be surprised. “One has become a paraplegic and the other is in a coma.”

Hannibal hummed his acknowledgement, “You needn’t worry for anyone else Mason Verger sends. My sister is not like me, Will, she does not bother to respond in kind to threats against her.”

Aldona was only willing to do so to anyone actually threatening her family, as Hannibal well knew.

“I should have known that anyone who can stab you on a regular basis can protect themselves.” Will said mildly, “So she hurt them so badly on purpose?”

It’s another not-Will question. No wonder the man had been flushed with guilt.

Hannibal chuckled, “You know well what her brilliance costs my sister. I’m still pleasantly surprised you managed to become friends on your own. Would it surprise you to learn you’re the only friend Aldona has ever made of her own initiative?”

That does startle Will, if only for a moment, “When Jack first told me he suspected her of being your accomplice as the Chesapeake Ripper-I laughed. Aldona wouldn’t manage to notice most people long enough to want to kill them.”

Left to her own devices that was genuinely the case. Being forced to interact with people she strongly disliked had a tendency to remind Aldona that murder was an option-it wan’t like she had any energy left to care about the so called sanctity of life.

“It goes beyond a general distaste for company,” Hannibal said, “My sister is capable of seeing such wonderful things in her mind that it’s often an effort to keep her from getting lost in her mind's eye.”

Will nodded, his gift slotting things he’d noticed about Aldona into place, “Less a memory palace-more of a galaxy?”

“Ever infinite the stars,” Hannibal said. Alana Bloom gasped beside her. It was the title of the largest painting in her private gallery. The last one inspired by Galeel.

Will sighed softly, “She played me a piece recently.”

“Your song?” Hannibal asked softly enough that the microphone barely picked it up, and Will shook his head. “I didn’t want to admit it at the time-but it was about you. You too, anyway. It made me think about how I caught you-and I realized you let it happen.”

The two men in the monitoring screen are making some very intense eye contact, Aldona didn’t want to play voyeur to such a private moment and she loathed the way the others in the room lean forward. She couldn’t wait for her brother to leave this place and to no longer be required to watch him flirt with his beloved.

Aldona could hear the smile in her brother's voice, “Now why would I do that, dear Will?”

Will's arms twitched in a way that meant he’d clenched his fists at his sides, “That’s what I would like to know.”

“I suppose you should figure it out then-Agent Graham. Is that not what you do?” Hannibal said, with the butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth innocence that’s been untrue for him since he made his first attempt to murder a fellow child at five years old.

Will stilled, a tense moment taken to remaster himself and his emotions.

“I’ll send Aldona over,” Will managed tightly and stalked his way back to Chiltons office. He was too busy trying to hide the edge inside him her brother had just successfully dragged to the surface to even make an attempt at eye contact and Aldona smiled.

Then she made her way to her brother and noticed the stars in his eyes.

“I’m quite surprised you didn’t stab anyone,” Hannibal said after their usual greetings. Lecters were never beyond basic manners-not with each other at any rate.

“My blade is reserved for you at your most obnoxious brother dear.” Aldonas smile was amused and knowing, ever the teasing younger sister.

“I suppose I should just be glad you never managed to injure me too grievously. Though I often wished you’d find some other way to punish me sister dear.”

“Another way? All the other ways I thought of punishing you were worse.” Aldona admitted.

“Did you plan to take a limb?” Hannibal scoffed, “perhaps my life?”

“I could live without you, you know.” Aldona threatened waspishly.

Hannibal threw back his head and laughed, fully aware Aldona was full of it and even perfectly willing to spring him now that his purpose in prison had been accomplished. All he had to do was ask.

Not that he would. He already had one of his lovers casting doubt on the case. Whatever game her brother had set up had been done with the same obsessive attention to detail that defined her brother's art. Aldonas active assistance wasn’t part of his game.

“Who else would keep you from drifting then, sister?” Hannibal teased.

“Mischa,” Aldona said seriously.

Hannibal just laughed harder.

“Do you really think my imagination was limited to the physical when it came to punishing you?” Aldona asked, annoyance closer to the surface than she wanted it to be. Having her twin beyond bars had affected her more than she was willing to admit.

“Of course not,” Hannibal sniffed, indulgent and condescending.

“Alright then,” Aldona said gravely, she had decided to do something nice for Mischa when it came time for her brother to leave jail anyway, “Just know you brought this on yourself.”

Hannibal had stopped laughing, eyes wide and horrified as it dawned on him that Aldona had meant every word.

“Please don’t touch any of your paintings,” Hannibal begged suddenly, “those are family heirlooms Aldona-please.”

“I won’t,” Aldona promised easily, smiling with pleasure as she saw her brother's anxieties begin to build. ”How about a game of chess brother?”

It wouldn't do to deviate from their pattern too obviously. Hannibal looked at her happy smile and paled, even as he grit his teeth and made his first move.

Aldona went home, called Mischa up and asked her to set up a piano concert for her favorite charity and to take care of all the details. Her only request was to live stream it for free in order to encourage donations and to set the date herself. Mischa squealed loud enough in her ear to make Aldona temporarily deaf and eagerly agreed. Aldona noticed that the front page of the paper was covering the murder suicide of Todd and Kelly Norton. Evidently Todd had stabbed his wife to death before writing 'IM SORRY' in her blood and overdosing off his wives Ambien pills. Aldona had not seen a clearer sign that her brothers game was finally coming to an end.

There was another text from Will in her phone the next day, asking if he could join her for her morning tea. Will paced around Aldonas sitting room like a man hunted.

“Is there anything on your mind?” Aldona asked eventually.

Will looked stressed-on the verge of his becoming. Aldona could feel it like a brewing storm around him. “How can someone simultaneously be the best and the worst thing that’s ever happened to you?”

They both know her brother is only waiting for him, and that it’s only a matter of time before Will follows him into the abyss. If he’s smart, and Will is fairly intelligent-he’ll wait until he can pretend he had no other choice.

Her brother is more prone to value the things he’s forced to work hard for.

“I suppose it’s when they’re everything we never knew we needed but nothing we’ve ever wanted,” Aldona mused aloud. Without her brother's influence Will would have happily looked away from the darker side of himself for his entire life.

He would have never managed anything close to happiness or fulfillment but a lot less people would die at his hands.

Will finally stopped, looking deep into Aldonas eyes for any signs of deceit. Aldona let the mirror before her reflect her honesty. Despite the terror they would become to the rest of the world-they were ridiculously well suited to each other.

“They found an arm,” Will said suddenly, “They found an arm and it belongs to a woman taken by the Chesapeake ripper. I’m not supposed to tell you-but Jack has been getting calls from her. Recordings of her voice and today they found an arm in an observatory. But Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper, he is. He admitted it to me and he stabbed me when he realized I was wearing a mic and they found the liver of our last victim in his fridge.”

Hmm, her brother the serial killer-always ten steps ahead of the poor agencies after him. “I’m assuming the arm is casting doubt on your case.”

“More than doubt-Alana thinks Hannibal is being threatened by the real Chesapeake Ripper, and I’m having trouble reminding myself I’m not supposed to let her think that.” Will looked wrecked.”I’m not wrong. I know I’m not wrong. The two people closest to Hannibal Lecter agree he’s the Chesapeake Ripper, Hannibal himself admits it, he doubled down when we told him about the arm.”

“But there’s enough doubt that a good lawyer could get him off,” Aldona said-that Hannibal would have a good lawyer was a given. Even if all of her brother's assets were frozen, Aldona was happy enough to fund his defense, and she would never skimp on it.

“He shouldn’t get away with this,” Will said, mostly to himself, “I’m not supposed to let him get away with this.”

“But you want to,” Aldona said because Will needs to hear the words out loud.

“But I want to,” Will admitted, “I killed someone and all I was able to think was that I wished your brother had been there.”

“To stop you?” Aldona said with a teasing smile. The silence lingered, Will at complete war with himself. Finally the balance tipped and Will sank into her couch.

“To help,” Will whispered-Aldona knew there was no going back for him. Her brother would be delighted.

“I think it's your choice whether or not you let this play out the way Hannibal would want it to,” Aldona said simply. “You may be an FBI agent but you did your duty. You caught the Chesapeake Ripper-even working for someone who doesn’t take you seriously or respect your opinion despite the fact that you’ve caught some of the worst serial killers in America. You’re allowed to be selfish Will. You’re allowed to quit and find a path that makes you happy.”

Will had already made his choice, “I hate your brother for being the smartest asshole I’ve ever known-I hate him for giving me hope he never killed Abigail because I’m pretty sure Miriam Lass is still alive. But mostly I hate him because I want to be with him so much.”

“You should try stabbing him,” Aldona suggested earnestly, “Somewhere non-lethal, I can show you some tricks, you really will feel better afterwards.”

“What tricks?” Will asked faintly, but there was a curious light alive and well in his eyes.

Aldona spent a pleasant afternoon teaching him where to best stab her brother for both maximum pain and safety. Will was a quick learner, she invited him to her recital. Not that he would be able to make it. Aldona had picked the night she was sure her brother's game with the FBI would be coming to an end.

Will was a key player.

On the day before her next appointment to see her brother Aldona stepped into the venue Mischa had chosen for her recital. Aldona had wondered if the usual social elite would bother considering what her brother was in prison for but apparently tales of her talent with a piano being significantly better than that of her talent with a brush had still filled every seat in the stadium.

On stage Mischa was giving the room their shiny new sob story about trauma and how while their childhood had shaped Hannibal into a monster he had at least done his best to shield them-and now they, the Lecter sisters, would do their best to create a positive impact on the world.

Aldona clapped politely before giving the room a faint smile and taking a careful seat of the piano bench, her backless blue evening dress glittered beautifully in the low light.

Then she began to play her first piece of the evening. It wasn’t particularly difficult to condense her performance into the hour and a half Mischa had scheduled before intermission. The itinerary was very simple, Aldona had planned to play two pieces. The first was simply named Mischa, after her little sister in this life-the child she had been and the woman she had become. The piece was beautiful because Mischa was beautiful-her life was about beauty, about standing out, about being exceptional enough to stand with her siblings. And she was-Aldona made sure to meet Mischas eyes when she reached that part of the piece. Her sister was in tears and when Aldona hit the zenith-the achievements that Mischa defined herself with, her little sister sobbed.

Aldonas smile became fond and pronounced as the song came to an end. For a moment an air of disbelief took hold of the stadium-before everyone present began to clap, shouts of bravo and encores snowballing into a cascade of pure sound. Aldona stood carefully in her overly elaborate dress, sketching a courtesy to the room at large before making her way to her dressing room and locking herself in.

She’d already explained to Mischa that she needed silence to transition between one song and the other. Everyone had seen her walk into her dressing room wearing her elaborate dress that had taken half an hour and three people to stitch her into. If she was planning to rescue her brother-then it would be the perfect moment in time. But Hannibal had made no move to ask for her assistance.

So instead Aldona used her phone to monitor the Verger estate-as it would be the stage for her brother's play. On the screen her brother and Will were tied up. Aldona made sure her phone would record the security footage for the Verger estate for the rest of the evening before implanting a bug that would make the footage inaccessible to law enforcement in the future. Assistance her brother didn't need but would appreciate nonetheless. Her own way to show her blessing for his chosen mate.

She wouldn’t watch the footage, but Hannibal would appreciate having the night when he and Will became something larger than the sum of their parts recorded. Her brother could be surprisingly sentimental that way. He still kept the black and white photos of their parents' wedding and the carefully staged childhood photos their aunt Murasaki had insisted on periodically in France.

Aldona took a deep breath and let herself out of her dressing room looking peaceful and zen on her way to play her last piece for the evening.

On the itinerary it was titled oh so daringly as My Brother. Mischa had insisted it would be better received than Hannibal's name. Privately Aldona knew her little sister simply wanted to be able to rub it in Hannibal's face that her name was on Aldonas first public recitals itinerary and his wasn’t. Considering it was meant to be a punishment for Hannibal and a nice gesture for Mischa-Aldona had gone along with it.

The last piece was draining.

Much as she loved him, Hannibals was not a peaceful existence, her brother embodied hunger the way Mischa embodied beauty and Will called to mind empathy. He was a shark in still waters, the slow persistent simmer of an underground volcano. Leashed violence and hedonism. The pervasive sense of taking more from the world than it dared to give anyone else. As exacting of himself as he was everything around him. Hannibal was demanding, consuming-compelling.

But he loved her selflessly, she was his twin and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. It was how she chose to end Hannibal's melody. Neither of the pieces she’d played felt complete to her, condensed as they were, people were far more intricate than an hour and half of piano music could touch upon. Most of her music only truly scratched the surface, but the smaller pieces left the barest of caresses. Nevertheless the evening had served its purpose, so Aldona smiled faintly at her enamored audience and stood to bow. Then she snuck away from the stage before Mischa could hold her hostage and force her to interact with the crowd.

Aldona received a visit from Alana Bloom the next day telling her that her brother was missing. Aldona made herself pale-asking where her brother had gone. To be fair she really didn’t know where Hannibal had taken off to. She highly doubted he was still anywhere near the Verger estate.

Alana Bloom was looking at her with concern as she told Aldona how little she knew. But it was suspected that Hannibal might not be the Chesapeake Ripper after all. Aldona looked properly shocked at the notion, then she let her face fall as if her world was ending. When she sent Alana Bloom out of her home the woman left believing Aldona hated herself for wronging her brother so.

Will was poignantly absent.

Chapter Text

___________

Todd Norton
________________

Todd Norton didn’t want to kill his wife.

He tried to drown out her hysterical screaming about Hannibal not being the Chesapeake Ripper with scotch. Unlike his wife-he was perfectly aware that if Hannibal was claiming to be the prolific serial killer he would have a good reason.

There was no way Hannibal was a murderer.

Hannibal was an entirely reasonable man. Todd never wanted to relive the embarrassment from confronting the man about seducing his wife when they were already lovers and meeting Hannibal’s steady gaze only to end up feeling ridiculous.

“You both seem so unhappy-I thought perhaps if she left you, no one would blame you as the injured party.” Hannibal had said in his lush European accent and Todd-Todd had never had anyone go so far for him.

He’d never had a lover as discreet as Hannibal, or as understanding. Every time they tried to break off their affair-he truly tried to let the gorgeous man go. Hannibal deserved to find someone he could be with righteously, out in the open who he could introduce to his family.

Todd was never going to be that person.

If Kelly left him he might be able to keep enough contacts to keep his company afloat-but their marriage benefited Kelly’s family just as much as his own company-Kelly would never let him go.

The first time he found himself sobbing the words into Hannibal’s chest the man insisted he spend the night. It wasn’t until later that night while they were falling asleep that Hannibal admitted he worried Todd might lash out at Kelly in his grief.

Todd had chuckled softly at the ridiculous thought. He would never hurt Kelly, except he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

Hannibal was the only one he confided the violent thoughts to. Todd even suspected that Hannibal had left his career as a very successful surgeon in order to become a psychiatrist and help him deal with the violent shadows in his mind.

He’d even done so somewhat successfully. They found his trigger-Todd never wanted the world to know of his homosexuality. He lived in fear of Kelly finding out and leaving him-or worse, her finally catching a clue instead of believing herself so repugnant he had no interest in sex with her at all. If she found out-if anyone that mattered knew, Todd’s copper company would go under.

The only reason he’d married Kelly was because her family’s network kept his family company in good standing. He’d promised his father on the man's deathbed that he would never let it fail. So no one in his wives very conservative network could know the man they bought from was a fag.

It had been fine before Hannibal had gone to jail. He knew one of the dates of the Ripper Killings matched up with a weekend he’d spent in bed with Hannibal. Todd had felt sick at the thought of Hannibal telling. Of having the cops show up and asking him to be a witness of Hannibal’s innocence.

But Hannibal was claiming to be guilty. He was taking on incarceration and clearly not even his sisters knew that Todd Norton was sitting on proof of his innocence. It would have been fine. Everything could have continued on with no one knowing the Nortons ever had anything to do with Hannibal Lecter.

Except that Kelly wanted to tell. She wanted the world to know of her indiscretion with Todd’s lover. Wanted to invite the world to scrutinize their marriage and the secret he’d been keeping since he was fifteen years old, looking at the wrong people on his baywatch poster to get hard, was in danger.

He didn’t really make a decision to grab the fireplace prongs and hack at his wife. It felt like he was drifting away from his body. Watching himself murder his wife and finger paint a pointless apology to his beloved on the wall.

Hannibal would understand, he was always so understanding. He’d even introduced Kelly to the psychiatrist that wrote Kelly’s ambien prescriptions when he used to worry about her waking up at night and finding him gone.

Hannibal would forgive him for not proving his innocence. Todd was sure of it when he found Kelly’s pills and swallowed a handful with a swig of scotch.

_____________

Mischa Lecter
_____________

Mischa was very reluctantly amused when the front page of the Baltimore daily was covered with a tasteful photo of her brother prior to his incarnation and news of his possible innocence. Someone had helpfully tipped off a reporter that usually covered the society pages some key information about the Norton murder suicide providing some proof that Hannibal had been having a steamy affair with Kelly Norton while the Ripper was supposed to be cutting off some man’s tongue to put in a bible.

It had taken Mischa longer than she wanted to admit to realize that Hannibal didn’t plan to stay in jail-kill happy sociopath or no. Aldona wanted her to know who her brother truly was-but she would never leave him in jail to rot and it had taken Chiyoh pointing it out for that particular realization to sink in.

It had also taken Mischa longer than she wanted to admit to accept that her brother was a monster. Chiyoh had not been surprised, but then Chiyoh had been trained to spot danger at a very young age-she even saw it as further proof to her suspicions that Hannibal had killed their uncle to get with their aunt.

Mischa, knowing now what Aldona had done to the man who had led mercenaries into their home in Lithuania and recalling the interrogation Aldona had conducted on her on whether or not Uncle Robbert had ever touched her inappropriately the day of the man’s accident, suspected he had help.

The thing about knowing that murder was wrong, and that her siblings had killed people and were thus-theoretically bad; was that they didn’t magically become different people.

Aldona was still her older sister-still the backbone of her family, the soothing presence Mischa could turn to for comfort for as long as she could remember. Hannibal was still the prissy peacock who Aldona had stabbed on a regular basis as a child for trying to trick Mischa into doing stupid, dangerous things.

Her childhood in Lithuania only grew more bizarre to her the older she got. When it was just the three of them in a crumbling castle Mischa thought her home perfectly normal. She didn’t have any context about what other people-other children were like. Her brother and sister were all knowing to her simply because they were older and knew more of the world than she did.

Putting Hannibal and Aldona in France had completely blown that idea out of the water. Aldona picked up French so fast it was as though she’d already long known the language and simply needed a refresher course. Hannibal wasn’t quite as quick to speak it fluently but his accent had been flawless where Mischa had to struggle for basic fluency until a few years of boarding school fixed her inflection.

The twins were so talented. Always flawlessly put together, always able to hold their own no matter who they were speaking to-or whatever situation they found themselves in. They made it look so easy.

It wasn’t-not at all. Mischa had to study fashion magazines to stay on top of trends. Shop constantly at all the right places, learn to discern who all the ‘right people’ were so that she only paid them attention and kept her good name as foreign royalty.

Aldona did none of that-worst still; she never had to.

Aldona was the most beautiful girl in her year.

She was head girl, never got less than a full score on any assignment, maintained her place as first in her year for the entirety of their boarding school career and still found time to recreate famous paintings that caught her eye so flawlessly her art teachers wouldn’t stop gushing about her to anyone that stood still long enough. The air of mystery and grace her sister carried was ethereal-like she had wandered in from a magical land where humans were superior beings and was taking her time to see the small grotesque world she found herself in.

Aldonas presence was so compelling that If she was seen in an outfit that wasn’t considered in season it quickly became popular among all the girls that worshiped her. Mischa doubted Aldona ever bothered to remember her fans, but Mischa would never forget them.

She had been scared by years of ‘are you really her sister?’ With an incredulous look, as if Mischa was somehow unworthy to share her own sister's DNA. All the little hanger-ons who would flatter her for the slightest chance of getting Aldonas attention.

It had been impossible to make friends.

Mischa never quite learned how to build meaningful connections with others outside of her family and Hannibal’s suggestion to just play with the peons until she got bored and discarded them grew tedious quickly.

Her brother and sister didn’t have friends, not really. Aldona had what could best be summed up as ‘staff’ and Hannibal only ever considered others outside of their small family ‘toys.’

She had been terrified of becoming a toy to her brother-just another person to play his sadistic games with until they no longer amused him. It was when their tension first began to build-when she learned to use Aldonas attention against him.

It was the only thing that reliably got a reaction from Hannibal. Aldonas attention was a precious resource and they both knew it. Her brilliant sister didn’t spend a lot of time outside of her head and she and Hannibal had technically been in competition before Mischa learned to be mean about it. Of course then one of her teachers at boarding school committed suicide and Mischa felt all kind of alarm bells go off in her head-she’d soon left the childish tattle tales and upgraded to cruelty. She could do nothing else when faced with the idea that her sister might not be around someday.

No matter how much she adored them, both Hannibal and Mischa were perfectly aware that Aldona wasn’t attached to the concept of her own existence. If she didn’t have them to care for her sister would have wandered into a forest to starve to death and be perfectly content with that end.

In her last year in boarding school Mischa had genuinely wondered if her siblings were even human. She’d been reading a collection of fairy tales for a paper and thought about the similarities between those impossible creatures and her own siblings. It was a silly thought-but one she couldn’t quite shake off after. It had even brought to mind how closely the people in her life resembled the seasons.

Aldona was like the fall. Sharp winds and the smell of leaves and damp earth. The ground settling its last tribute to the world at large and yearning for rest. Her sister was always so exhausted-as though sleep could never restore her energy or interest in the world, as though her existence was trapped in the moments before a full sunset-a brief flare of brilliant light that cast endless shadows.

Hannibal was winter. Seemingly inviting and placid until the insidious cold killed you or the treacherous snow hid some deadly pit. Hannibal was always unfailingly kind to his toys-at least right until the moment he wasn’t. The description seemed even more apt now that Mischa knew about his interest in playing with corpses.

Her brother was a fey of the winter court of there ever was one.

Mischa ascribed the spring to herself. Her lifelong fascination with growing things and the little patch of flowers Aldona had let her water in the Lecter estate had cradled her first friends. Even now Mischa still felt closer to certain orchids than she did the majority of Ladies of Baltimore that called themselves her friends.

Friends was a generous term now that most of them stopped calling her when her brother was arrested. Surprisingly Chiyoh’s business was undisturbed-but then Chiyoh hadn’t taken her last name and the ladies of Baltimore that compromised their social circle had taken the Ikebana classes her wife offered years ago.

These days Chiyoh taught a younger crowd-people who had no idea she was married to a woman or who that woman was related to. Her wifes ability to be personable enough to be a highly recommended teacher and yet maintain such a strict degree of privacy was impressive.

Mischa could still remember the first time she set eyes on her wife. She was too young to put into words the degree of fascination she’d felt at the sight of a human being that wasn’t one of her siblings. Or at least that was what she’d tried to convince herself come puberty and the telling interest in other dark haired women.

She hadn’t been scared about her sexuality. Not with the way her brother bandied about his tryst with both genders and Aldonas complete acceptance-if lack of interest in romance. It had never been put into words that her siblings would accept who she was regardless of who she was interested in-or if she failed to find interest in anyone, but they didn’t have to. They led by example.

It had been Chiyoh that Mischa had trouble coming out to. Chiyoh with her intelligent eyes and deft hands that had been a part of many embarrassing dreams when Mischa was going through puberty. She had tried not to take her own feelings too seriously-Chiyoh had been the closest thing she had to a friend, she hadn’t wanted to risk altering their relationship in such a way. Mischa would have probably kept her feelings to herself her entire life if Chiyoh hadn’t made a move.

When her siblings had decided to leave Europe and immigrate to America, Chiyoh had asked Lady Murasaki to reassign her to Mischa. Mischa hadn’t quite understood what that meant until the night before their flight when Chiyoh had appeared at her door in a beautiful kimono and asked her to make use of her new handmaiden in any way she wished.

Needless to say-they missed their flight.

Mischa wouldn’t change that night for anything in the world. If the people in her life were like seasons then-Chiyoh was the summer. Burning heat and beautiful flowers in full bloom. Their children were the lights of their lives, and even if the entire world turned against her for what her brother was-she had the small family she’d made for herself.

If-when her brother got free, Mischa would have to make a choice. She had never really thought of herself as cold blooded with Hannibal available for comparison-but Mischa had discovered within herself quite a mercenary soul. If Hannibal were her only sibling it wouldn’t have been a choice at all. Mischa would have left the country and any semblance of a relationship with her brother behind.

But Aldona had kept Hannibal’s nature from affecting her life almost entirely for the majority of it-Mischa had faith in her older sister and the unspoken promise of her protection. When her brother got out she would make it clear to him-none of the darkness he was so enamored with was allowed to touch her little family.

As long as he could make that guarantee she could ignore whatever bloody indulgence he chose to partake in. She could turn a blind eye to it with the ease she ignored the mess he called his personal life-just another distasteful aspect of his terrible personality.

If not-we’ll Mischa spoke Japanese, and Chiyoh spoke very fondly of her homeland. She would even go to the extreme of making Aldona visit for long periods of time and leave Hannibal to be lonely by himself.

Little sisters were incredibly petty creatures after all. It was why she experienced so much joy at the prospect of attending Aldonas first recital while Hannibal was incarcerated. Mischa would be able to rub it in Hannibal’s face for the rest of their lives.

_____________

Chiyoh
______________

Chiyoh spent the week her wife planned her sister's piano recital doing damage control. Beautiful and enchanting as her giddy Lady was-she was very much a Lady. Careless and capricious and so very much in need of her handmaiden.

Chiyoh took care of anything that went awry-soothing ruffled tempers with the ease of long practice and ensuring the live-in tutors they’d temporarily hired to also nanny their children earned their obscenely high salaries.

Chiyoh found the American willingness to ignore their morals in favor of a good enough paycheck as useful as she did contemptuous. She knew the way she was raised was a relic of an older era. She had been an orphan recruited to dedicate her life to serve a Lady and her family. In return for her compliance and completion of the incredibly brutal and difficult training; Chiyoh would have a family. A family that would take care of her for her entire life and a purpose to keep going.

For most of her adolescence Chiyoh had been very honored to serve Lady Murasaki. Her admiration for her Lady had even increased in the face of her taking in her husband’s nephews with enthusiasm.

Of course then she’d found herself standing outside of a castle door decorated with rotten corpses and the ancient eyes set on the young face of Aldona Lecter.

After meeting all three Lecter children, Chiyoh mostly felt sympathy for her lady. She found herself spending most of her time with the least offensive of the three. Little Mischa looked like a little Lithuanian doll, moved like a dancer, and didn’t give Chiyoh stress headaches.

Letting Hannibal Lecter run free among the French Lecter estate was like setting a particularly sadistic cat amid a pile of very fat mice. Within the first month the cook had a nervous breakdown and she walked in on him in various states of intimacy with several maids-all much older than him, who had to be summarily fired and replaced. Then he’d moved on to the stable hands, and the less said about how he looked at her Lady the better.

Chiyoh tried not to think of the considering looks she’d caught her Lady sending back.

Aldona was never a problem until the very moment she was.
Half the male staff her brother had been unable to seduce thought themselves quite in love with the ethereal young woman. Chiyoh had to chase more than one adolescent who considered himself a musician or a poet off the estate grounds. She tried not to resent the slightly older girl for her overzealous suitors-it was hardly her fault she was beautiful, she clearly lacked any interest in them and she never did anything to encourage her admirers.

It was honestly the most stressful when Hannibal found out and tried to ‘help.’ Chiyoh recalled her life in Paris after the arrival of the Lecter children as mostly a comedy of errors and studiously ignoring anything she could deem not her problem. She probably wouldn’t have survived it if her Lady’s husband hadn’t made the decision to send them to boarding school.

Mischa remained her favorite Lecter by far, especially when it became clear her Lady planned to let the young Lord entangle her. Her refusal to bring her brother's outrageous behavior to heel was something Chiyoh ended up resenting Aldona for despite herself.

It was incredibly frustrating because she was the only one who could make her sibling do anything. Aldona was the undisputed head of the Lecter children. Her twin and little sister would never go left if she said right. The only problem was Aldona had no interest in dictating the way her siblings should live or even the type of people they ought to be. She let her sibling do pretty much as they pleased-provided they didn’t hurt each other.

And in doing so she created at least one monster.

Chiyoh didn’t know who had trained Aldona but whoever did had done a better job than the entire branch of her lady’s clan dedicated to the task. She knew she’d lose any fight between them, and the same held true for the others. Even little Mischa could move silently enough to startle her on occasion.

The first time she’d seen Aldona stab her brother for making Mischa cry-Chiyoh had frozen. The matter of fact way in which Hannibal tended to his own wound and the way Mischa had smugly clung to her sister's side had thrown her off.

Her attempts to subtly interrogate the twins on who had passed on their skills bore no fruit and it quickly became clear Mischa had been kept purposely ignorant. The twins successfully kept most age inappropriate things away from the youngest Lecter, occasional stab wounds aside, and the resentful way Hannibal went about it spoke for whose idea such careful handling was.

Chiyoh remembered thinking of Micha as the Lecter treasure.

It wasn’t until the youngest Lady had spoken to her about applying to American universities that she realized Mischa had become her own treasure somewhere along the line. It had made her embarrassed about the way she had carefully not judged her Lady for not being able to withstand Hannibal’s courtship. If the shiver Lady Murasaki felt down her spine at the young counts attention was anything like what ran down Chiyo's everytime she caught sight of Mischa’s warm admiring gaze then her Lady had held out valiantly.

Theoretically Chiyoh was supposed to spend her entire life in service to Lady Murasaki. In practice Mischa had silently usurped her Lady’s place in Chiyohs heart as the most important person in her world.

Chiyoh had been willing to suffer any punishment Lady Murasaki deemed fit in response to her blatant insubordination. She had been willing to bear any pain but the one of leaving Mischa’s side.

She hadn’t expected her Lady’s kindness and her blessing of their union. It was a gift almost as precious as Mischa’s own affection. So Chiyoh had always consciously tried to live her beautiful impossible life well. Whatever her Lady’s siblings proclivities-she trusted Aldona to shield Mischa as well as she always had.

It was only a matter of time before Hannibal was released from jail and their family’s life returned to the sweet bliss it had been before his arrest.

Chiyoh was patient-she could wait.

_____________

Donald Sutclif
________

Donald Sutclif had never thought of himself as a man who would do anything for love. He’d always been too disdainful of humanity. Even his interest in medicine wasn’t necessarily about helping people-although it helped his reputation for people to think so. He just wanted the high power and prestige beyond being the smartest person in the room.

Then he laid eyes on Aldona Lecter.

He hadn’t been the same since.

His life didn’t suddenly stop or anything. He still dated around and his career would never not be his life-but he could admit that he could never quite stop paying attention to the most fascinating woman he’d ever met.

He’d met her at a Christmas dinner Hannibal had thrown. She’d sat slightly apart from the rowdy crowd of medical students gone off eggnog and watching her watch the snow falling by the window felt like watching a painting come to life.

Finding out that she was an artist after, had sent a shiver down his very soul and he’d badgered Hannibal until he’d gotten an invitation to one of her gallery shows and he had his mind blown by the exquisiteness of her work. Aldona was the most beautiful-talented woman he’d ever come across. Even Hannibal-the most arrogant man he’d ever met could admit his twin was better than him.

Donald had known he’d met his future wife-he just had to find the courage to talk to her.

He’d been quite disgusted with himself over the lack of progress at first. He always felt so tongue tied whenever he opened his mouth around her. It didn’t help that Aldona was religiously distant with anyone that wasn’t related to her by blood.

It was quite galling to see the light and life in her disappear the moment Hannibal or Mischa left her side at whatever social gathering he was fortunate enough to see her in. It was like she tucked it all away and only the perfectly polite mask was left for anyone not surnamed Lecter.

But even with the lack of success with approaching her-Donald could acknowledge he was quite obsessed.

Watching her wander art galleries featuring her masterful works on her brothers arm had quickly become the highlight of his year. He was now the proud owner of several of her early pieces which had more than doubled his net worth all on their own.

He should be more appreciative of that-but mostly he had become resentful of how expensive Aldonas paintings had gotten. He could no longer afford to buy them and he hadn’t been able to have a conversation with her for several years as a result. Badgering Hannibal to invite him to his famous dinner parties no longer bore fruit after Hannibal realized how serious he was about his sister.

He’d been furious with his friend at first-until he’d finally found an opportunity to get him drunk and interrogate him on why he refused to let him pursue his sister. Finding out about the bastard that had broken in and assaulted her when she was so young had broken his heart.

He’d never forget how Hannibal had shuddered and admitted that he wanted to kill that man. The way his eyes had gone sad and distant when he said, “She never shared exactly what happened with me. Just that she stabbed him and got away-but…she’s never been the same since.”

It cast Aldonas absentminded mannerism in a new light. His specialty was on the brain, he knew the deep seated nature of the trauma experienced when young. That coupled with what he’d gathered of their childhood in Lithuania-well it was clear why Mischa was the most well adjusted Lecter.

Most people missed it in Hannibal but Donald knew a shrewd son of a bitch when he saw one, it was like looking in a mirror. But Hannibal was colder than he was, he went through lovers like most people went through socks and the only ones he seemed to keep around for any length of time were married. It spoke glaringly of attachment issues. Considering his parents had been executed when he was so young-well if it wasn’t for the backdrop of war and political turmoil that caused their family tragedy it would have been a classic case.

He knew through careful proving questions that Aldona never dated. She never spent any time with anyone that wasn’t her family. He almost got his back up about Will Graham and the tales told of her playing him a song. Then Hannibal had explained she was making an effort the same way she had when Mischa had introduced her to Chiyoh.

He supposed a better friend would have been happy to see Hannibal find someone-but Donald had just been relieved.

He was less relieved when Hannibal brought Will to him to check for encephalitis. He didn’t even have time to enjoy having such a rare disease to examine because Hannibal was the least put together Donald had ever seen him-and having his lovers disease properly diagnosed should not be a cause for such dishevelment.

Immediately concerned it had something to do with Aldona-Donald had asked. Hannibal-bastard that he was didn’t tell him goddamn thing. Hearing about Hannibal’s arrest should have thrown him further off-but it was the biggest clue to what was wrong.

Even if he was a serial killer-which from what he’d managed to ferret out of the man about his childhood, was a distinct possibility-he was also smart enough to get away with it. It also made no sense for Hannibal to have owned up to being the Chesapeake Ripper before he’d even gone to trial.

Donald had been wracking his brains trying to figure out what was going on. He’d even broken into Hannibal’s office in search of clues. That’s where he found a letter tucked into one of Hannibal’s old medical journals.

It was addressed to Will Graham, who was clearly too much of an idiot to figure out there was so much more going on behind the scenes-and it explained everything.

How Hannibal had discovered Frederick Chilton was the Chesapeake Ripper-how the man was so obsessed with Aldona that all his gory art pieces were love letters. How the man had taken Abigail Hobbs hostage and would only let her live as long as Hannibal took the fall for his crimes. A dastardly plan that would allow him ever closer to the object of his obsession-Aldona would never abandon her twin-not even if she thought he was one of the most prolific serial killers on the east coast.

It was fucking sick-and it was working. Chilton had everyone dancing like puppets at the end of his strings.

Hannibal’s one Hail Mary shot was the letter he’d left to his moronic boyfriend. It contained the only clue Hannibal had managed to find before he was incarcerated. There was a cabin by the sea that might be where Chilton was holding Abigail Hobbs hostage. If he could find her there-or some other clue about Chilton being the true Chesapeake Ripper, then Donald would be the man who saved Aldonas precious twin. He was sure it was the only in he’d need.

He would have rushed right over if his google alert on Aldonas name didn’t inform him of her charity event. That quickly took priority. He’d been so jealous of everyone who’d had the privilege to hear her play. There was nothing stopping him from heading out after the show.

Watching her shining on stage in that beautiful blue dress after having gifted the world such a transcendent experience Donald knew he made the right decision.

Even if it was dangerous-he had a gun. He’d find a way to get her brother out of jail and put Chilton behind bars where he belonged.

So decided-he changed out of his tuxedo in his car and made his way to the coordinates Hannibal had left behind.

Chapter Text

___________________________

Margot Verger

___________________________

The first time Margot officially meets Hannibal Lecter is at one of his sister's art showcases. She knows who he is of course, not exactly because of how popular the Lecters are amongst the upper class of Baltimore-Margot had seen the Lecters around enough times to remember such attractive people. But she would never forget the day she learned they were twins. Twins that cared about each other, twins that did things like go out together, support each other’s careers, smile at each other and mean it.

It almost made Margot stop attending Aldonas showcases, she wasn’t above things like jealousy or pettiness. But out of every gallerie showcase Margot had ever attended-Alsona’s were her favorite. Everyone said Aldona painted windows into other worlds, and wandering from canvas to canvas in her show cases made it very clear why that was the case. It was the closest to free Margot ever managed to feel, so she found herself ignoring her jealousy and envy for the opportunity of experiencing Aldonas art.

It did mean she was very aware of the twins though. So she was sadly close enough to see the look on Hannibal Lecter's face when he passed by close enough to hear an incredibly pedofilic comment Mason chose to make about his niece to a ‘good friend’ of his.

Margot’s stomach sank with dread. The last thing she wanted was to get kicked out of the gallery-or banned from any future showings. Hannibal Lecters face remained carefully blank as he looked at her brother.

And then-worst still, he looked over at Margot, and then headed her way.

“Good evening,” Lecter said, with surprising politeness.

“Save your breath,” Margot said-tired enough that she didn’t particularly care if she was coming off as rude, “If there was anything I could do about Masons…everything, then I would have done it years ago.”

“If I believed there was any salvaging of his nature possible then I would have approached him instead.” Hannibal said genially.

It was a much better attitude she’d expected from someone who’d just heard her brother ‘joking’ about taking his niece to bed.

“Then why approach me at all?”

Hannibal’s polite little smile didn’t move-seemingly affixed to his face, “As a professional in my field I can quite recognize when someone is planning an attempt on someone else’s life.”

Margot felt herself erupt in goosebumps. It was her best kept secret. She’d been working on the plan for years and had told no one. How could he possibly know? She wasn’t stupid enough to admit to anything outright-but if a complete stranger had noticed, who was to say someone important, like Masons bodyguards, hadn’t.

“Don’t be silly, Dr.Lecter. Mason is my brother.” Margot smiled bitterly, “Besides, why would you come over to talk me out of it?”

Hannibal had the balls to chuckle, like they weren’t talking about Margot’s attempt at murder at all. “My dear I wouldn’t dream of being someone rude enough to tell a stranger who they should and shouldn’t attempt to remove from this earthly plane. I just find myself familiar with your situation. The misogyny in your fathers Will made it rather infamous. He went as far as building a trust with very specific details on who had any access to his fortune. I simply worry you would find yourself homeless if you managed to succeed.”

Margot stared at the doctor in complete disbelief.

“Then what would you suggest?” Margot asked faintly. She was beginning to wonder if the entire conversation was a dream.

“Have you heard of surrogacy?” Hannibal Lecter was leaning towards her with mischief writ across his face, like he was telling her a particularly clever joke. “There have been several impressive advancements in the field. Why you can even pick the sex of the child you would like to raise.”

Margot burst out laughing. She was doing her best to hold it down-hold it in that bubble of genuine joy. It was completely inappropriate. But it was an answer she’d never thought of. Before killing Mason was a matter of survival. She’d been like a coyote chewing off its leg in the hopes of getting out of a trap. She’d been ready to find herself on the street after, just at least secure in the knowledge that there would be no one after her and that she’d find a way forward somehow.

Now she might not have to.

“Do let me know if you would like some assistance.” Doctor Lecter said, presenting her with a business card, “Just give me a call. I’ll schedule you in for an appointment. You can always claim to want to see me for psychiatry instead of anything more interesting.”

Margot took the card almost absently.

She still didn’t quite believe it when she found herself in doctor Lecter's office. When he explained how he had enough surgery experience to take out her eggs on-site and a contact who could provide the healthy sperm she needed.

He even said he’d wait for their plan to work out before she had to pay for any of it. Unspoken was that Mason had to die. He couldn’t be around for Margot claiming her inheritance through her child. When doctor Lecter showed her the sonogram of her six month old little boy Margot could no longer ignore the elephant in the room.

She didn’t want to bring her child into a world with her brother in it. When she shared the sentiment-Doctor Lecter offered to help.

It seemed a little too good to be true, she’d spent every day since Lecter offered to help her waiting for the other shoe to drop. She wasn’t stupid enough to think there wasn’t a catch.

The catch was just-it wasn’t anything Margot had been prepared for, but it was something she could live with.

On the eve of the culmination of Doctor Lecters plan Margot found herself having dinner alone with her brother.

Manson was the most manic Margot had seen him in a long time. He overturned the table, stabbed her in the thigh, snarled in her face that he was the one who would win their latest game.

Margot had found an ocean of peace inside herself. She found a small placid smile came easily to her despite the knife in her thigh.

“I don’t care about our games any more Mason,” Margot said, perfectly honest. “I just want to be happy.”

Mason backhanded her and stormed away-she did herself a favor and didn’t think about where he was going.

Margot wondered what it said about her. That she couldn’t picture herself happy in a world where her twin was alive and well. But she was pretty sure she didn’t care anymore. She could remember loving him-but she couldn’t anymore, hadn’t for a long time. Mason had stopped being her big brother when her father gifted him his first knife.

There was a woman out there carrying her child. A little boy that she could claim was Mason's bastard to her family and the trust after she adopted him and she killed her brother, that meant she got to keep all the Verger money and property.

She also got to kill Mason.

After all the torment. All of her wounds and tears that everyone laughed off. After a lifetime of making her miserable she got to get rid of him and get off scot free. She had to figure out a way to thank doctor Lecter for it but Margot would have a lot of money very soon.

She’d definitely find a way.

___________________________

Hannibal Lecter

___________________________

His sister was an old soul. It was something he remembered their nanny commenting to their mother as a child and had always held the belief as an explanation for the way nothing in the world seemed new or interesting to his sister.

When he became a little older and more cognizant of the world and their place in it-he realized all the ways neither of them quite fit among the people they had grown up surrounded by-and all the ways Aldona had interfered to keep anyone else from realizing that was the case.

He was grateful. Both for his sister's foreknowledge of the world, and her unconditional love of the cold brutal creature that lived inside of him.

He knew he would not love her so if she did not see him so clearly, if she did not love and accept him as he was. Quite like how he couldn’t love Mischa as much as he did Aldona, although he was far more fond of his little sister than anyone save his twin. He’d cared almost as much for his beautiful Japanese Lady-but she could not bring herself to see beauty where he did.

She was no stranger to the darkness in the world and yet she chose to close her eyes to the appeal of the macabre. Hannibal had found it quite disappointing. Especially after he’d killed his uncle and she began to treat him as a replacement. Lady Murasaki was happy to be a socialite, she would have been happy to play mind games and pull her power plays with her fellow nobility-where death was only ever treated as a pragmatic necessity. She would welcome him into her world-but she would not step into his, and so they couldn’t last.

He was not a man who would make due or settle for anything else than exactly what he wanted. He had been far too accommodated since birth.

Hannibal knew his sister had spoiled him. It wasn’t something he was terribly conscious of-even when it was particularly blatant. Even their carefully curated accents were an indulgence of his sisters-All of them could speak English with perfect American accents. Just as they could all speak flawless French and Japanese, his was a family of accomplished polyglots, but where would be the fun in sounding perfectly American when he could sound worldly and cultured? Once he’d gotten Mischa on board Aldona had followed indulgently-she was always indulgent.

But then she was so ancient, she probably could never see him as anything other than a child. Someone to pet and coddle. She set the rules and expectations of society before him as toys, and was never truly upset when he broke them. Unless they were toys he was supposed to be sharing-like the bottom line of morality of what was acceptable for a Lecter.

He knew Aldona kept them from becoming cannibals because it was a reality Mischa was too weak to stomach. The simple existence of their younger sister had raised the moral standards Hannibal was expected to uphold. He tried not to be too bitter about it. Tried to consider it the one indulgence he’d grant Mischa as her older brother. With age did come a certain tendency to tease and pamper.

He hadn’t thought much of Mischa when she was a babe that spent the day crying or sleeping. Nor when she was a toddler who could barely string words together. The most trying part of their relationship had been back when they were alone in the Lecter estate and Hannibal had been forced to accept that Aldona cared about someone other than himself. He’d been viscously jealous and attempted to trick Mischa into wandering into places she would never wander out of. Aldona had taken to stabbing him for his covert assasination attempts. Clear reminders of her unhappiness with his actions.

It had taken a couple of years in Paris to truly accept that Mischa was a non-negotiable part of their lives. It probably wouldn't have taken so long if an older Mishca hadn’t gotten so annoying about it. Then she had become an extension of himself-he liked to see what ways he could get her to mirror him, what similarities he could influence her to share that weren’t innate, or a simple product of their upbringing. It shouldn’t have surprised him that the few successes he managed made it harder for them to get along-Aldona had evidently been perfectly honest when she described him as ‘trying to get along with.’

He tried not to be too bitter of his sister's teasing. It wasn’t as though she had ever given any indication of being close to someone else. It was a waste of his jealousy to wonder at all the people Aldona had ever thought of as ‘easy to get along with’. She was his twin in this life-that was all that mattered.

It had taken him a long time to figure out this wasn’t his sister's second-or her third, or even fourth life. All the paintings in their family gallery were glimpses into all the other lives she'd lived. He sometimes wondered if his sister had been some minor deity. One too weak to hold dominion in her own world, but a soul too eternal to be put to rest. It had been a whimsical thought-and rather insulting, Aldona was far too effortlessly competent to be a minor anything. But he had trouble putting the idea to rest-especially with knowing Aldona as he did-and the knowledge that she would have long destroyed herself-if only she could.

Perhaps she had merely been cursed with eternal life. A sisyphean existence that had turned life into eternal monotony. If that was the case then he should surely be glad Aldona had managed to retain the part of her soul that could at least love her family.

He wouldn’t have been able to enjoy being her twin otherwise. Hannibal didn’t have it in him to love anyone who couldn’t return the sentiment. There was simply too much ice in his soul.

He had already been so grateful-so lucky as to have the most remarkable soul in the world as his twin. It felt almost obscene when he met Will; the twin of his soul.

It had taken many sleepless nights replaying The song he’d inspired from his twin in his memory palace to believe that-to accept the reality of an equal outside of his close knit family. To acknowledge he was more to Hannibal than his latest interesting plaything.

But Will was. It meant he had to make some severe changes to his plans-but Hannibal had always been good at adapting them to changing circumstances. Playing strategy games against Aldona had taught him the value of a fluid strategy early in life. He’d also learned to use his pieces ruthlessly, and how to recognize danger for the opportunity that it was.

If it wasn’t for his fascination with anatomy Hannibal would probably have been a highly accomplished politician. It was probably the only career track that would have let him use the full extent of his broad and very specific skill set. He was just that good at setting himself up for success.

So when he woke up at the Verger mansion-gagged and tied up next to his lovely Will, it wasn’t so much according to plan as a very useful turn of events. He’d been prepared to wake up alone of course but having Will close had been a strong possibility. He’d counted on Margot’s attention being enough to make Mason paranoid enough to make a move on both of them. That he’d chosen to confront them simultaneously was simply Hannibal’s impressive luck at work yet again.

As for his bindings-well he’d eat his scalpel out of sheer shame if he couldn’t get out of such basic bonds after Aldonas training.

He already knew the specifics of his circumstances, he’d almost smelled the swine before he woke, considering their horrid stench. Margot had filled him in on Mason's very specific sadistic proclivities. While Hannibal could almost respect the irony of actual pigs being fed their human brethren, he found his own solution of feeding rude pigs their own kind much more elegant. Hannibal at least had the ability to turn them into something pleasing and palatable after death and didn’t need to put up with the filth of a stable.

No doubt the waste of air Margot called her twin planned to feed them to his hogs-but not without gloating first, considering his megalomania and that meant Hannibal had plenty of time to get free and kill the staff present. The rest of the staff that lived in the mansion was very well trained to ignore any noise coming out of the rustic torture chamber Mason called a barn.

Will had been awake before him-and the sheer fury shining in his eyes boded very well for their evening.

Mason had started his insipid monologue the moment Hannibal opened his eyes and he was twirling his little butterfly knife with an impressive lack of skill. Hannibal decided to take it from him to add insult to future injury. It would also be the fastest way to release his darling, and witness the extent of violence Will was currently willing to act on.

Once he did, slipping his ties, snatching the knife and liberating his darling as the staff congregated around them. A stupid move as it made them hesitant to use the only tools that had any use against him, their guns, in order not to injure their allies. But such were the advantages of the element of surprise, and any former professionals Mason had working for him had long grown glutted and complacent at the pathetic madman’s side.

He could have taken Mason hostage when he took his knife of course, but where would be the fun in that? It was far more enjoyable to break limbs and doge bullet wounds at Will's side.

While lacking Hannibal’s training and experience, his love was quite vicious and creative. Hannibal would treason the memory of Will punching a goon so beautifully brutally and precisely in the throat that he crushed the man’s trachea and sentenced the hired gun to asphyxiation.

He wasn’t going out of his way to cause any wounds that would date their murders too precisely. His darling was so brilliant, Hannibal hadn’t even had to say anything. Will had simply followed his lead instinctively. They moved together as though they’d fought side by side in thousands of battles, instead of their current one being their first. Truly it was over far too soon.

But there were only six men and Mason. Mason was quite useless even before Hannibal finally took him hostage with his own knife as Will killed the last man standing by picking up the chair he’d previously been tied to and breaking it on the back of the man’s head in just the right spot-the soft side of his skull.

Hannibal ignored Mason's squabbling, as he had all evening thus far, pressing the knife to his throat firmly enough to cut and only stopped once Mason finally took the hint and went quiet. Then he watched his future husband catch his breath as he stood victoriously over his kill and committed that to memory as well.

Will was glorious when he wasn’t trying to hide from his darkness and finally embraced it.

“Doctor Lecter,” Margot, their hostess and one of his favorite chess pieces to date, called hesitantly from the door.

“Good evening,” Hannibal greeted, “I do hate to impose, but if you would find some rope to secure your brother-I would truly appreciate it.”

The only reason he hadn’t already removed Mason's larynx was that it would mean putting the rest of his plans for the evening at risk. Hannibal hadn’t spent nearly four months in Chiltons dubious custody to miss out on creating his first tableaux with the love of his life.

“Of course,” Margo said, disappearing to fetch the bindings he’d asked for while Will turned to look at him incredulously.

Hannibal savored the surprise in his darling's eyes for the brief moment it existed until Will put all the pieces together and scowled at him, “Was there any part of this that wasn’t a part of your plan?”

Hannibal couldn’t quite bite back a smile at Will's adorable outrage, “There were many plans-which one specifically would you like the particulars of?”

He didn’t realize quite the opening he’d left for himself until Will jumped on it, “The one you made when we first met.”

For the first time he could remember Hannibal felt something like shyness or possibly even shame. It was quite disconcerting how often Will brought about emotions in him that he had only ever observed in others-but they had known each other for almost a year now. He could at least course correct from the impulse to lash out just to make the unfamiliar feelings stop.

“I wanted to use Abigail to tie you to myself until I cracked open the darkness I saw in you for the world to witness or I grew bored, whichever came first.” Hannibal admitted, perhaps with ill grace.

“So it took that long?” Will's eyes narrowed, “After I killed Hobbs? That’s when you made the first plan?”

“While you were an attractive curiosity upon our first meeting I’ve never found the draw in creating any elaborate plans for a simple sexual conquest.” Hannibal sniffed. His previous lovers were simple amusements, Hannibal had been using sex to twist people around his fingers for too long for it to actually require any effort. “Once I saw you covered in blood however…it became more than a flight of fancy.”

“You thought you could simply take me to bed?” Will scoffed, “You’re giving yourself too much credit Doctor Lecter.”

Hannibal let his eyes go half mast, looking at the bruises blooming on Will's exquisite face and letting the carnal hunger the sight left him with come to the surface, “Am I?”

Will looked away, but the red tint to his ears spoke for itself, “That’s beside the point. What’s the rest of your current plan?”

Hannibal smiled, enjoying how well Will knew him. Anyone else might be entertaining the idea that he’d planned to spare Mason, but Will knew better than to think Hannibal would be choosing an option that didn’t end in blood and gore.

“Well how could I possibly pass up the opportunity of such an airtight alibi to put the ripper to rest, darling?”

“Let me guess, you would like some assistance?” Will snarled.

“I do believe it would be worth your while. What would be a little more blood on your hands?” Hannibal asked, looking pointedly at the very dead men at their feet.

Will scrubbed a hand through his curls and growled his frustration, a furious primal sound that almost made Hannibal hard on its own, “On one condition.”

Hannibal found himself thrumming with anticipation, “Name your price.”

Will met his eyes defiantly, “When did your last plan change?”

Hannibal smiled, and he didn’t need to see it to know he probably looked quite besotted with the man in front of him, “When I realized I wouldn’t be succeeding as long as the objective required me to deceive you.”

___________________________

Will Graham

___________________________

Hannibal had to stop looking at him like that. The adoration he saw in his eyes was melting away the rage Will knew he should still be feeling once Hannibal owned up to trying to deceive him in the first place.

It shouldn’t make his heart skip a beat that the man who had gotten him kidnapped by some lunatic and was, without doubt-the Chesapeake Ripper, thought Will was smart enough to realize he was a goddamn liar, even if he had encephalitis at the time. But somehow, it did feel flattering. Just like it felt good to know that the most accomplished serial killer Will had ever met wanted Will to kill at his side.

It felt too good.

But at this point all of his reluctance was basically a pantomime of what he’d felt before he accepted he was a killer as well. Giving in too easily risked Hannibal taking his willingness to kill with him for granted at some point in the future-spoiled self centered narcissist that he was. Will didn’t particularly like what it said about him that Hannibal was the man he’d probably chosen to spend the rest of his life with-but the die had been cast.

At least he had Aldonas peaceful presence to retreat to when Hannibal’s became too much. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand the long stretch of the future with Hannibal otherwise. He was entirely too much, and there were limits to how much Will could enjoy that about him without regular break’s.

Margot came back with rope and they secured Mason to the outside of his cage of pigs.

“Do you still have the pills I gave you?” Hannibal asked Margot.

The blonde nodded eagerly, “Of course.”

“What are you planning to feed Mason?” Will asked, admittedly curious.

Hannibal smirked, self satisfied. “Just something to ensure he won’t be able to run away before we make it back. I also gifted Miss Verger with something to induce a fever and provide her own alibi.”

“How long will we be gone?” Will asked curiously. He figured they’d kill Chilton, who honestly deserved it-so Will could admit to looking forward to it. Aldona had done too much to defend him from the press for him not to take advantage of the opportunity to do similarly.

“That depends on several variables for this evening. Now I do believe it’s time to go,” Hannibal declared.”Time waits for no man.”

Will followed him out of the barn, thinking about why Margot would be needing an alibi and followed Hannibal into the forest behind the Verger estate.

“So we won’t be killing Mason?” Will asked tentatively as they made their way onto a well hidden road.

Hannibal’s face went carefully blank, “If anyone has earned the right it’s Margot-and that’s saying something considering I once overheard Mason comment that my niece would be the best kind of lay considering her age and ethnicity.”

Wills eyes darkened with disgust, “Please tell me she’s feeding him to those pigs.”

Hannibal nodded, “We should make it back in time to watch.”

“Good,” Will said-fury and disgust swirling through him. The word would certainly be better off no matter what got Mason out of it-but some people just deserved to suffer for their sins.

Then he spotted a car and a very familiar orderly in the driver's seat.

“Mathew?” Will looked at the facility staff who’s inconsistent ticks he’d been ignoring as something that wasn’t his problem. Evidently he’d been wrong, “What’s he doing here?”

Hannibal smiled with pure mischief, “Mathew has been quite the lovely assistant. He’s here with presents.”

“Presents,” Will parroted back absently as he got into the backseat. Only Hannibal could find an aspiring serial killer accomplice after being locked up. Yet another instrument to dispose of at the end of the night, no doubt-but certainty proof Chilton wouldn’t be seeing the next sunrise.

Will figured the only reason Margot was getting out alive was that they were the alibi for her own murder. Well that, and she was a female blonde fraternal twin who’d spent the majority of her life being abused by her brother-Hannibal no doubt considered the betrayal of a bond created in the same circumstances he so treasured to be just as disgusting as Masons pedophilia.

“He was kind enough to scout the site for our first stop and fetch us the tools we will need for the night.” Hannibal said, taking the keys from Mathew as the younger man scooted over to the passenger seat.

“I have to say I was really surprised when I found out about you Mister Graham.” Mathew said eagerly-looking at Will with blatant admiration, “I would have never thought another eagle like us could make it so high up the feds food chain. And letting Doctor Lecter stab you just to keep your cover…”

Mathew let out a long, impressed whistle.

Will shrugged, he might as well let the tool enjoy his last few hours-he figured he’d just met the misguided killer who tried to fake a Ripper murder while Hannibal was behind bars, “You do what you have to. So who else are we killing tonight?”

Saying first stop implied there would be a last one.

Hannibal met his eyes through the rearview mirror, “Would you like to take a guess?”

Will snorted, the amount of people who’d managed to offend Hannibal while he was behind bars wasn’t terribly long, and he could admit to some eagerness of his own once he put two and two together.

“Freddie then,” Will said, being careful not to smile. Hannibal wasn’t the only one Freddie had offended beyond reason, “Is her hotel close by?”

“Only twenty minutes away without traffic Mister Graham,” Mathew volunteered eagerly, then he turned to Hannibal. “Are you sure I can’t watch you two take care of her?”

“It’s rather personal for Will and I, Mathew-you’ve seen the filth she writes about my sister and I, she’s been equally unkind to Will.” Hannibal refused graciously, “If you’d like, Will would be willing to extend the same courtesy when we kill Chilton.”

So Mathew wouldn’t be making it out of Chiltons house then. Well they did have a reason to know each other and Hannibal probably already had an idea that would justify the presence of Mathew’s corpse in the home.

“Oh,” Mathew said with enough disappointment that Will began to suspect he felt more than admiration for Hannibal, “I don’t mind him seeing what we do to Chilton. I know he’s a dick to everyone. I’d want to watch him die too. Can you at least tell me what you’re going to do to Lounds though?”

“Well it just so happens that we haven’t decided yet,” Hannibal said and, evidently done entertaining Mathew’s idea he was an equal player in their plans for the night, turned all of his attention back to Will. “I’ve been entertaining a tribute to Psyche’s sisters from her myth with Cupid, what do you think, Will?”

Side characters, of course Hannibal wanted to pay insult to the two even in the tableau, then again Hannibal had set himself up not to be able to be suspected of the crime beyond reasonable doubt. So the tableau wouldn’t be a true Ripper kill, despite being committed by the same man. The Ripper was Hannibal’s artistic persona, he put months of careful planning into each kill. The works were made to stand on their own-apart from their base material of long pig.

That wouldn’t be what they would be doing tonight. This night was about vengeance and practicality. They wouldn’t be making art. Not something that truly transformed and transcended the pigs used to make it into something beautiful, despite its macabre nature. It would have to pass for one-it would have all the hallmarks of something theatrical, but it was too personal and pointedly a statement of the people they would be using to make it. So even side characters who actually managed to ruin their sisters happiness felt like giving Chilton and Freddie too much credit.

Although he did get the dig about them being jealous of those better and greater than themselves. Envy was something Chilton and Freddie felt rabidly for the Lecter siblings. And even Will in his own right-he was a renowned expert in his field. His ability was thoroughly evident from the solve rate of the cases he actually took, instead of just casually consulted on. His words carried weight whenever they were about a criminal profile-even if Jack didn’t actually respect him as a person.

Mischa-the one time she’d shamelessly ambushed him at work, curious about her siblings new friend, had commented that she received several cards for every bank holiday politely begging her to convince her brother to go back to medicine. From colleges and former bosses and evidently even some board-members of his old hospital. Hannibal had been a famous surgeon in his own right, and even when he made his transition into the psychiatric circles, he’d wasted no time in making a name for himself with his publications. Not to mention Aldona was hands down one of the most talented, celebrated, and famous artists of the twenty first century.

They all had respect and some renown in their fields, if not the level of fame Aldona had managed to achieve on her own. As for Freddie and Chilto…

Freddie was ridiculed, and rightfully so, for being a murder tabloid reporter who focused on sensationalism and lacked all substance. While Chilton had fled surgery due to incompetence, and his attempt to make a name for himself in the phychiatric circles had backfired so badly he’d barely survived having so many or his organs outside of his body.

There was no doubt shattered pride and envy was driving the level of maliciousness they had unleashed upon them. Pride and Envy, cardinal sins, it brought to mind something almost biblical…

“Have you read Spenser's "Faerie Queene?” Will asked.

“Faerie Queene,” Hannibal repeated as he mulled over Will's proposition, then Will was graced with the smile of his eyes as they met his own in the mirror, “The parade of Pride?”

Will couldn’t bite back his own smile, sometimes he forgot how well Hannibal had come to know him, “Envy rides on a wolf, chewing a venomous toad, and also secretly chewing ‘his owne mawe.”

Hannibal continued the quotation flawlessly, ”He is dressed in a discolored garment covered with eyes, and a hateful snake is curled secretly in his bosom. It’s an evocative image. And just in time."

“Is Freddie really stupid enough to stay at a motel without cameras?” Will said, looking around, bemused, as they pulled into the parking lot of one of the seediest motels he'd ever seen.

“She’s found herself quite financially strapped as she’s actively losing a lawsuit on slander Mischa filed on Aldona's behalf. I don’t think she could afford something with a working toilet.” Hannibal informed him as they pulled into the parking lot.

“Couldn’t happen to a better person,” Will commented as he put on the plastic rubber gloves Hannibal handed over. He was amused to note the plastic suit and booties Hannibal placed in a tote as they made their way to Freddie’s room. Of course Hannibal had murder attire.

They put on the conveniently black booties and shower caps that would blend well int the impressively shitty lighting of the motel just shy of the room number Mathew had provide.

“So how are we incapacitating her?” Will asked in a low murmur.

“Electric shock,” Hannibal whispered back, fishing out a cattle prod Will hadn’t actually noticed him steal from the Vergers ranch.

“Won’t that be loud?” Will questioned, even as he grabbed the cattle prod so Hannibal could fetch his lock pics.

“I was hoping you’d see taking the pleasure of being the one to kill Miss Lounds as satisfying enough and go about ending her life quickly,” Hannibal breathed, having leaned quite close without Will really noticing, and offered him a blade to wield alongside the cattle prod, “If not I have some truly terrible death metal music and a very loud bluetooth speaker in the bag.”

Will scrunched his nose at the thought, death metal had always seemed like the kind of music that would induce a migraine to him. “I can be quick.”

And he was.

Freddie had evidently been quite engrossed in writing and barely looked up when Hannibal masterfully jabbed the door open. Will, rather inspiredly in his own opinion, shoved the sharp end of the cattle prod into her mouth to interrupt her shrieking and watched her fall to the floor twitching in delight. Then he placed his plastic covered bootie strategically on her diaphragm so she couldn’t get enough air to properly scream.

He was probably having too much fun, even as Hannibal all but dressed him in a plastic suit.

Her eyes were wide with pain and shock and disbelief. Will was man enough to admit he turned off the cattle prod just before burying a knife in her heart because he wanted her cognizant enough to know he was enjoying watching her die.

“Beautiful,” Hannibal murmured, once Freddie properly bled out into a corpse, “You’re so lovely when you kill, beloved. So righteous and inspiredly vicious.”

Will hated himself a little when he felt heat flood his cheeks. He reminded himself to hate Hannibal instead for being ridiculous, “What part of our tableau is Freddie going to be?”

“As the one to originally plant the idea in Chiltons head I thought she deserved the indignity of being the mount.” Hannibal smirked, hauling up Freddie’s corpse and beginning to arrange her in her own puddle of blood.

Will snorted, “Is Chilton meant to be the toad then?”

“He’s to be our errant Knight of Envy course,” Hannibal chuckled, “If this wasn’t so spontaneous I would have liked to have a toad to insert in her mouth.”

“Come now, doctor Lecter, “ Will found himself teasing, “Don’t make me accuse you of lacking imagination.”

“I must admit to finding myself curious as to how a feat of imagination is meant to procure us a toad, my love,” Hannibal snarked right back.

Will bit back a grin and grabbed a folder he’d spotted on the desk, full of print outs of her own articles Freddie was evidently egoistic enough to carry around with her. Will noted the sensational titles with disgust, claims of Hannibal's incestous relationship with his twin chief among them, they were definitely what Freddie would call her greatest hits, the biggest click bait articles she’d managed to publish no doubt. Will picked out the three most distasteful and began to fold.

Clever as he was, it took Hannibal no time at all to figure out where Will was going with it.

“I never pictured you as one for origami,” Hannibal mused aloud as he carefully mutilated Freddie’s mouth into a passable facsimile to a snout. They’d already set Freddies corpse on her knees and flayed her naked body delicately enough to evoke the idea of fur with bloody lines that slowly oozed blood. Will found himself lamenting their lack of time. He would have liked to see their tableau in its entirety-not as a set split in two.

Will finished folding his paper frogs, then flicked one casually to make it ‘hop’, “Ribbit, ribbit.”

Hannibal chuckled, “Well done, dear boy. Would you like the honor of placing them into her maw? We should also make some for Chilton.”

Will thought about the knife he’d plunged into Freddie, the power he felt when he’d watched the light fade from her eyes.

“You know,” Will said, “I think I would.”

___________________________

Miriam Lass

___________________________

She could hear sobbing-it was a quiet sound. Almost a whimper, something a child would make. It seemed to come from far away-but for the first time she could remember in so long, Miriam had something to focus on-a raft on the sea of her fluid consciousness..

“Hello,” Miriam rasped, past her parchment dry throat.

The sobbing cut out instantly. Miriam panicked immediately-that was the opposite of what she wanted. The fear that flooded her system helped-it made her feel more awake.

“Please-talk to me,” Miriam begged. It was the only thing helping her think. Helping her through the haze in her mind. It was her only chance-she couldn’t remember for what but she knew it was important.

“Who are you?” A voice called out-it was a girl, she sounded so young, so scared, “What’s your name?”

“My name,” Miriam began, and she felt the tears begin to drip down her face in sheer relief when she realized she knew her name, “Miriam, Miriam Lass.”

With her name came more awareness-a dull alarm ringing in the back of her head and barely held the haze that had held her for so long at bay.

“What’s your name?” Miriam asked, desperate to keep the conversation going. The longer she could think past the haze the more she understood that they were in terrible danger-she just needed to remember why.

“Abigail,” The little girl, Abigail-whispered.

“Abigail.” Miriam repeated, trying not to panic upon the realization that she was strapped onto the bed she was laying on. Her mind was finally beginning to process information other than sound, “That’s pretty. Can I ask you for a favor Abigail? Can you please talk to me? Just tell me what you see.”

Abigail-the most wonderful little girl in the world, did just that. Describing the room they were in. The bare white walls, the medical partition that separated her from view. The handcuffs that held her captive to the headboard of the bed.

It was as she helplessly wiggled in place that Miriam became aware of her missing arm. And with that knowledge came the rest of the terrible awareness. They were being held captive; by the Chesapeake Ripper. It was all Miriam could do to breathe past the rolling pit of fear and dread in her stomach-to focus on Abigail’s voice.

It was an incredibly ugly thought-and one Miriam would probably hate herself for having it if she lived past the night-but she was so glad Abigail was there. So happy she didn’t have to feel alone at the mercy of the sociopath that had kidnapped them.

Miriam had no idea if she would have been able to string a thought together without Abigail’s voice to be her anchor-but now that she could-she writhed even harder. She had to get free, had to get the needle that she could feel in the back of her hand free.

Ironically-if she had two arms she probably wouldn’t have managed, But with the ability to turn as much as she could she managed to free her remaining arm and tear out the needle with her teeth.

She wasn’t sure how long it took for her thoughts to completely sharpen again, awareness that had been coming in and out like waves finally solidifying into understanding. Miriam managed to unclasp the straps that held her down, carefully keeping the thought that they were just flies on a spider web wriggling frantically for the Rippers' amusement as far as she could.

Even if it was a game; she had no other choice but to play. It was still the only chance she’d ever had of escaping. By the time she got herself free Miriam had worked up quite a bit of cold sweat.

She rose tentatively to her trembling feet and moved the curtain that shielded Abigail from view.

She was older than Miriam had thought. A teenager as opposed to the preteen Miriam had expected to find. But she was handcuffed to the bed. Miriam looked around frantically for something to pick the cuffs with, almost not believing her luck when she realized there were several clothes pins holding what she had originally thought to be one curtain together.

Miriam couldn’t do as quick a job of it as she’d like but Abigail held the cuffs steady and a clothespin in place while Miriam carefully picked around the locking mechanism until she was free as well. Picking the lock for the door was a little harder. Miriam trembled with hope-with the idea that they could make it out of the cabin.

She knew their best shot of finding an exit was to split up, but she still did it with her heart in her throat. Finding the front door almost felt like benediction. But then she heard a lock slot into the keyhole and Miriam became paralyzed.

When he opened the door, when he walked towards the light switch that would give her away, she stood corpse still. Like a deer in the headlights, she was too afraid to move.

Then, like the actual angel she was, Abigail appeared. Twice as brave as Miriam had ever been, the little launched herself at the Ripper with a warcry that shocked Miriam back to life. The monster had dropped his gun, Miriam knew, instantly, what she had to do-and lunged for it.

She felt like she was watching herself from far, far away when she raised the gun.

Miriam shot the monster that had held her hostage until she ran out of bullets. Even then her finger kept squeezing the trigger. She wasn’t sure for how long she stood there-looking at the man who had held her captive and twisted her mind for his own sick amusement.

Donald Sutcliff.

She remembered now. She’d seen his name on the medical file of the first Ripper victim. He was an ER doctor in training who’d attended the man when he broke his arm. She’d just wanted to follow up on every possible clue. She’d made a stop at his office and that was where he’d captured her.

Miriam burst out crying. The relief of knowing this man-this monster was dead-that he couldn’t hurt her anymore, was soul deep. She was free.

She was finally free.

Slowly she became aware of hysterical laughter. Slower still came the realization that she was the one making that sound. When she finally managed to calm down she met Abigail’s wide-wide eyes.

Miriam smiled past the drying blood on her face and coppery taste in her mouth. “We did it Abigail. We’re free.”

She then hobbled closer to the corpse on the floor and fished out a phone from his pocket. She just had to call Jack-then they would finish making it out. Nothing could stop them anymore.

___________________________

Abigail Hobbs

___________________________

Abigail had never thought she’d be a bridesmaid for a father figure. Even back when she lived with her birth father, or rather especially not when she lived with her birth father. Her mother had been far too good at ignoring all of the ways her husband had been strange and alarming, one of which was the pathological way her dad kept her away from any other men.

No one was safe from suspicion. Abigail wasn’t allowed to spend the night over at her uncle's house, stay in the library unaccompanied, or even get the Mail from the geriatric old man that had been delivering it as far back as she could remember.

She’d known better than to even entertain the idea of a boyfriend.

But now her father was dead, Will had officially adopted her and she had two gay dads. She was Wills maid of Honor, along with Beverly Katz because Hannibal insisted they have the same amount of bridesmaids for the photos and Hannibal had two sisters.

Abigail was trying not to stare at one of said sisters. They were both gorgeous of course-Hannibal’s entire family was ridiculously good looking. It was just that maybe Abigail had never entertained the thought of a boyfriend because girls were so much prettier anyway.

And maybe Aldona Lector was the most beautiful woman Abigail had ever seen.

It wasn’t that Abigail didn’t understand that her crush was stupid. Aldona was way too old for her. She was literally Hannibal’s twin and had some silver threaded through her ash blonde hair. She was also spacey and absentminded and barely even remembered Abigail existed even when Abigail was right in front of her.

But Abigail’s hormones did not seem to care.

She thought maybe it was the appeal of power. Aldona knew exactly what Hannibal and Will liked to do in their spare time and what Abigail occasionally volunteered to help with. Or did on her own.

Yet Aldona never had a problem staring down Hannibal, or telling Will he was being an idiot about something, however politely-or outright ignoring Abigail because she didn’t even register as a threat.

Will said Aldona had been the one to teach him to stab Hannibal when he was unhappy about something he‘d done. She was basically the most bad ass woman in the world.

And she was even this world famous once in a century genius artist that was filthy rich. Her beauty was like an unfair cherry on an already irresistible Sunday. Any woman that liked women would fall in love with her at least a little bit. Chiyoh and Mischa were clearly soulmates and that was probably the only reason the Japanese woman, now her aunt, had gone after the youngest Lecter instead of Aldona.

And yet the latest reason her crush was completely impossible. Will, her new Dad, had married Hannibal-which made Aldona her aunt.

Abigail now lived in a world where she had wet dreams about her aunt.

It was so unfair.

Okay maybe it was just karma for all the people Abigail helped kill and the ones she’d finished off herself. But it still wasn’t fair actually because Hannibal and Will had killed way more people than she had and they got to be happy and like disgustingly in love.

If Abigail had been into literally any other woman in the world she could actually pursue her and ask Hannibal for advice. It’s not like either of her dads ever treated her like a child or tried to keep her from anything ‘not age appropriate.’ That ship had long sailed, as they were all perfectly aware.

The rest of the world treated her with kid gloves, the traumatized victim of not one but two serial killers, but it was all bullshit. Abigail had literally terrorized the head of the BAU with one of his recruits severed arm but the rest of the world treated her like she was made of glass. She’d been the one to kidnap Hannibals fall guy and plant one of his murder kits in the guys car.

Granted it had been incredibly easy since Hannibal had been hypnotizing the guy for years and had trained him into a series of trance-like states easily induced by certain code words but she had to do it all without being seen-so it had taken a certain kind of work.

Then she’d changed Miriam’s saline sack to the one with a milder dose of drugs, cuffed herself to the bed and pretended to cry l and pretended to cry until Miriam woke up. She’d had to put in a masterful performance of looking around frantically for an exit with Miriam while secretly flicking the kitchen lights in the specific pattern that would make a thoroughly hypnotized Donald Sutcliff break out of his stupor and come into the cabin without questioning how he’d gotten the keys, or why he’d hold his gun in one hand instead of two-football tackle the guy while he was as close to Miriam as not suspiciously possible so she could grab the gun, and roll away quickly enough to not get shot when Miriam did what her own hypno sessions had trained her to, and finally keep up her victim act like he was the first dead body she had ever seen. She even regularly saw Miriam in group therapy once a week and the older, and probably smarter, woman was as convinced of Abigail’s victimhood as she was of her own.

Abigail was literally the only reason the police were buying Hannibal's line about the Ripper being two people, Sutcliff and Chilton, who’d turned on each other because of Chilton changing their original party line and starting to dirty their so-called muses name. Hannibal was claiming to have walked in on Sutcliff with a knife to Abigail's throat and that he’d volunteered himself as a fall guy in order to keep her safe. He wouldn’t be getting away with it if she wasn’t corroborating every line of his story.

Abigail had long come to understand that the world was made of hunters and the hunted. She’d decided which one she was going to be as she watched the life leave Nicholas Boyel’s eyes-and her fathers had taught her enough to ensure she’d never see the inside of a jail cell for it.

Abigail was a bad ass in her own right.

She was an adult-she could be cool and not become a complete wreck on her dad's special day and keep it together for Hannibal’s precious wedding photos.

She could.

Abigail even thought she got away with it until Hannibal complained they had to delete several photos because Abigail was making moon eyes at Aldona.

___________________________

Aldona Lecter

___________________________

Aldona wasn’t surprised when Hannibal's long term involvement with the Nortons did come up in the murder suicide investigation and their financial records could be used to absolve her brother of at least three of the ripper murders. That combined with all of the ‘evidence’ he’d arranged to be found on his patsys and the alibi of having been kidnapped the night of the ‘Ripper's last kill’-well it wasn’t like the FBI had ever had a chance in hell of actually catching him. His case would have been laughed out of court if it ever made it to trial. Especially with Abigail’s ‘traumatized’ presence, whose life he could claim he’d been trying to save by ‘taking the fall for the Ripper.’

Everything was tied up very neatly with a bow and not even Jack Crawford much suspected he’d been thoroughly hoodwinked. Mischa was back to accompanying Hannibal to events and bragging about Aldona and her talents like nothing had changed and even the people in high society who’d thought Hannibal had tricked them into cannibalism were urging her brother to throw dinner parties again, having clearly learned nothing.

The biggest difference was probably Will deciding to retire and start dating her brother, he even adopted Abigail Hobbs. The so-called retirement meant blocking Jack Crawford's number and refusing to open the door when he showed up. He didn’t even go back to teaching, starting instead a pet rescue for dogs and spending the majority of his time making cute videos about the pack of hounds running around his property with his new daughter in the hopes of getting them adopted.

Hannibal made them all brunch every Saturday and Aldona was pleased to see how well her brother and best friend were doing. Even if she knew most of their romantic vacations ended in the murder of several people. Aldona had spotted their work in the papers. The single new serial Killer, who’d taken ‘inspiration’ from the Ripper, they believed both men to be was dubbed ‘the Punisher’. It was fairly unoriginal but a very apt name for a serial killer that had been confirmed to have killed solely other serial killers.

Since accepting himself Will had gotten better at spotting the darkness in others and her brother seemed happy enough to indulge the love of his life by letting him pick their victims. They got married and Hana got to be a flower girl. Abigail seemed to enjoy the high society life Mischa and Hannibal swept her into just as much as she enjoyed running around Wills' Virginia property that had been repurposed for his charity. She also developed a highly inappropriate crush on Aldona that felt like her twin's spiritual inheritance.

She eventually got around to explaining to Will how the way she’d murdered the steward had sparked her brother's interest in violence as an artistic medium. How his first kill had been done in a rage when he believed she’d been molested by her uncle. The way they had covered up what really happened. Will told her that Hannibal had been happy to take Will to Paris for their honeymoon and proudly showed him the grave of his first kill even if he hadn’t particularly gone into the details.

Aldona refused to give another public recital. She occasionally agreed to gallery shows. Her nephews grew up and married. Aldona became the eternal spinster she was, having her quiet forever intruded upon by both her brother, sister and their extended family. Hannibal and Will grew more and more disgustingly in love the more they murdered together and the Punisher gained far too much infamy and a following of copycat killers. Mischa and Chiyoh gained grandchildren and the Lecter name became quite famous in art circles the world over, just as her siblings wanted.

Eventually they got old. Hannibal managed to drag them all to Florence for their retirement and the last phases of her life were lived out like some of the first. Walking around Europe with her brother, always getting dragged to some new exhibit or museum. Especially when it was showcasing any of her work.

But her family was happy-and safe, and that was all she ever managed to care about.

Time was an ever flowing river and eventually it swept Aldona-Shikako away.