Work Text:
Three weeks. Hannibal gave himself up three weeks ago, and Will was a mess. He couldn't stop thinking about him, dreaming about him. Every time Will closed his eyes he saw Hannibal, pictured those dark eyes following him from behind bars.
Will more tripped than walked out of the bar, stumbling onto the street. He knew he wasn't able to drive but he could at least nap in his truck til he felt like calling a cab. Will was struggling to get the key in the lock with his shaking hands when he saw it, a slight shift in his side mirror. The vague shape of someone watching from down the street was more sobering than a bucket of ice water over his head. Will stepped back from the truck, slipping his hand in his pocket keeping the keys clenched in his fist in case he needed a weapon. The FBI consultant did his best to look subtle, just going for a stroll around the block. The feeling of being watched followed him, the rough shape of a man just barely taking form around the glint of his eyes and the rustle of his clothes. Will kept his attention on shifting shadows in his periphery. He was good, he was dangerous, and for whatever reason he wanted Will. Sure he could have headed back to his truck and simply drove away getting distance between them, could have called for back up, could have gone back to the bar, and stayed there, safe surrounded by other patrons till the man left. If this was any other time and he was any other man he might have done those things, but the shiver up his spine feeling a predator's eyes on him was the first thing he had truly felt since the last time he looked in a predators eyes.
Will didn't consider his actions before he took them, ducking down the closest alleyway, pulling his hand and makeshift weapon from his pocket. Adrenaline flooded his system. He wanted to scream and tear and rip the man apart for no reason other than the fact that he could. Will stopped once he was sure that he and his follower were properly hidden from any unlucky passerby.
Will turned to watch the man walk into the ally after him. All pretense between the two dropped as Will didn't bother pretending not to see the strange man and the strange man didn't bother pretending to hide anymore. Finally getting a good look at the man gave Will a strange feeling, something about the hungry look in his eyes and the wide, nearly threatening smile, combined with his relaxed gait and nonchalant attitude would have thrown nearly anyone off balance. But Will wasn't just anyone, and the man across him simply couldn't compare to the face that floated in his mind. He just waited as the man stocked closer, looking him up and down. The man didn't seem to have any obvious weapons, but looked convinced that he had the upper hand. Will just waited, the dam had to break eventually and when it did the man would attack. The stranger would get impatient eventually, and impatient men make mistakes. There are lines even now he refuses to cross, his blood sings, an image of Hannibal ever pristine, leaning against the wall, watching. Will tried to shrug it off, he could wait, he had too, it would be self-defense.
When the man finally moved the combination of relief and adrenaline was enough to make Will dizzy. His relief was replaced by fear when he realized the man moved too fast. One hand was pinning his shoulder to the wall and another was gripping his chin and forcing to the side fast enough to make him nearly regret not going back to the bar when he could.
Whether it was a mistake didn't matter anymore, he made his choice and now he'll have to deal with it. Will stabbed his keys into the stranger's stomach, tearing through flesh. All the anger the frustration he had kept inside for so long poured out. The keys were not a good tool for the job but through sheer force of will, he still managed to gut the stranger.
The man didn't flinch at his injuries, his hold never weakening as he pressed his body more firmly against Will's own. He thrashed against the stranger's hold, bearing his teeth and clawing at every bit of skin he could reach. Will felt it the second the man's teeth pierced his neck, he tried to shake it off but the man was too strong. The blood loss took its toll quickly, the frenzied attack he had launched on the stranger dwindling. Dizzy and nauseous he collapsed forward, held up only by his attacker's grip. It wasn't his life that flashed before his eyes, rather it was his life with Hannibal. It was every dinner, every glance, every word shared between the two of them.
Where his head was twisted to the side he could see his vision of Hannibal still leaning against the wall without a care in the world.
"You would let him taste you, Will? Let him take that which you denied me?"
No.
"Then what are you going to do about it?"
Will growled. There is only one man allowed to touch him, his blood wasn't for a stranger. Will buried his own teeth in the man's shoulder. Blood flooding his month was Will's last memory before he lost consciousness.
Line break
Alana was already seated when Will arrived. "Have you been here before? It's a bit fancy for my taste but I've been hearing good things."
"Seriously Will," Alana replied annoyance written on her every action "Two years. Radio silence for two years then like nothing happened you want to get dinner."
Will relaxed into his chair, not minding at all what the woman across from him thought. "I didn't want to talk. Now I do, and I'm hungry. Therefore dinner." He replied, scanning the menu rather than actually looking at his company "How have you been? Heard you and Margot managed to stick it out alright, got a son and everything."
Alana tried not to unsettled by the shift in Will's nonchalant attitude, it had been two years of course he would be different. "Margot and I are doing wonderfully, Morgan is growing like a weed. What have you been doing?" She tried to keep the bitterness from her voice but she couldn't help it. He had dropped off the planet for two years.
"Oh, this and that really. I needed to take some time, relearn who I am."
Alana's gaze softened a little, he had no doubt been through hell capturing Hannibal, of course, he needed time. "I wish you had called but I understand the need to heal, move on. Are you doing better now?"
Will smiled a smile she hasn't seen on him since before he started working at the FBI so long ago. He looked almost carefree. "I found my place, who I am meant to be, you know?"
Alana actually laughed "Wow, apparently I need to try vanishing for two years."
If Will had a response it was cast aside to make idle conversation with the waitress as she dropped off their meals. Alana couldn't help but notice how much easier it seemed to be for him now. He still didn't look the waitress in her eyes but he smiled and talked to her. Something had changed in him while he was away had Alana couldn't bring herself ruin it with too much prodding. But she knew someone who would most definitely try to ruin it.
"Will, " she started once the waitress left "have you spoken to Jack yet? He's been trying to get in contact for months now."
Will's expression turned quickly, the happiness he had been so easily been displaying morphed into sorrow.
"Yeah," he said softly looking far more the Will she knew "we spoke."
Alana wanted to reassure him, tell him he didn't have to go back if he didn't want to, but she knew she couldn't. Will wouldn't let people die, not if he could save them. So she didn't speak, just stared down at her meal.
"That's part of the reason I'm here, I'm going to need to visit Hannibal. I want your approval."
Alana's eyes flicked up to him the second Hannibal's name left the man's lips "You've got to be kidding me. You got away. What could you need from him?"
Will fidgeted in his seat "Some of the killer's displays are reminiscent of the Rippers. We think he might be a fan. Getting Hannibal's insight is important."
Alana sighed, "So why bring me to dinner, why not just show up at visiting hours? I assume you remember them."
The man across from her flinched a bit at the reminder of his own time being held in the Baltimore state hospital for the criminally insane, but she couldn't bring herself to feel bad when he was acting like this. "I wanted your approval first, Hannibal is your patient after all. Besides, it's always nice to have an old friend for dinner."
Will seemed to regain a bit of his earlier good mood, smiling like he told a joke. Alana felt slightly uneasy at the sentence that reminded her a bit too much of something Hannibal would say. She picked at her salad, despite having no meat and being made in a restaurant, she was suddenly and irrationally afraid that Will had snuck people in it somehow. "How can you still eat meat? After I found out what Hannibal had fed us, I just couldn't bring myself to anymore." She asked gesturing vaguely at his nearly gone steak, that she would have sooner called raw than rare.
Will shrugged and gave another you're missing the joke smile "Its just a steak, Alana. I think it would do me good to see Hannibal in his cage. You know some mornings I could swear he had just left the room before I woke up, I have to resist the urge to search the house for him."
Alana sighed, Will was a good man, but he always seemed so intent on throwing himself on a pyre. "I won't stop you."
"Thank you, Alana."
Line break
Hannibal was waiting patiently when Will came in. He had been told to expect a visitor but no one has told him who he was to be expecting. Keeping his face impartial took a rather unexpected amount of self control.
"Hello Will."
"Hello Hannibal." Will spoke the name slowly, as if savoring the feel of it on his tongue.
"I am pleased you finally invested in a decent aftershave." The older man commented, catching the scent of something earthy and unfamiliar but at all not unpleasant clinging to Will.
Will gave an easy smile, walking right up to the glass. "I'm not wearing one."
Hannibal resisted the urge to frown, searching his mind for a match to the new scent and coming up blank. How unusual.
"I assume you are here to discuss the new killer terrorizing the populous."
"You know me too well." Will joked, smiling and relaxed. "What do you know about him?"
Hannibal paused, unsure what to do with this rather unexpected shift in Will. He had spent so long trying to draw the younger man out of his mind, to coax him into a more relaxed, more agreeable state, and yet Will found his way out of his shell all on his own it seemed.
"I am afraid I only know the basics. He drains his victims of blood, before carefully staging them and using their own blood to paint a rather elaborate mural on them. However the amount of blood taken from his victims compared to the amount left at the seen would suggest he has a great deal left over, what reason he has for taking it is yet unknown. He always kills his victims in their own homes, the only connection between his victims is that they all live alone. The lack of forced entry in any of the homes would imply he is being invited in and he doesn't have a name yet. I believe I did not give the late Ms. Lounds enough credit, I had never realized how much of the burden of naming Baltimore's killers seemed to be hers."
Will did not add anything to Hannibal's summary but did not have anything to correct either. He merely grinned. "I have pictures." The younger man said, sliding a case file into the slot in the wall.
Hannibal flipped through the file, attention still focused on the man across from him. There were indeed many photos of the impressive list of victims their new killer had managed to decorate in his year of killing. And decorate he did, the designs were mostly abstract, leaning towards the surreal. The design on each victim seemed to be carefully planed out and made specifically to fit their body type. He had elevated them into art, and Hannibal could not deny that it is stunning. He wants his paintings to be seen, to be admired. He craves an audience.
"Thoughts?" Will asked after Hannibal's silence had stretched on long enough.
Hannibal looked up at the man before him, he didn't need help. The crimes were not even as gruesome as many he had solved on his own. He craves an audience.
"It is a labor of love. He is making these for someone, he wants them to be seen, to be admired. I imagine they are quite the sight when the blood is still wet." The 'but you didn't need me to tell you that' hung in the air, unspoken but understood.
"To be completely honest, I have another reason for paying you a visit." Will said, leaning in close to the glass looking to all the world as if he was about to offer up some great secret for Hannibal's ears only.
Hannibal took a step forward, indulging Will's playful mood.
"You see I need to apologize, you see I am simply racked with guilt." Will teased, looking neither apologetic or guilty "I stole a book from your study during the investigation. Just the one, a book of Greek myths. I've read it many times since."
Hannibal smiled at this, the rather infections good mood getting to him at last. "Consider it yours, if only to alleviate your guilt."
"That's the thing, I'd much rather consider it yours. Holding it in my hands knowing it's touched yours as well, reading each paragraph many times, replaying it in my mind in your voice." Will was nearly whispering now, "And since I don't plan on returning it, I thought it would only be fair too reciprocate."
Hannibal watched the precious, wild man before him pull a hardcover from the interior of his jacket and place it on the slot leading into the glass cell. Hannibal didn't move to retrieve it just yet. He watched Will leave the book in the slot with a wide smile before turning around and walking away.
"Will" Hannibal called out, he hadn't considered what he would say next, he simply wanted to see Will once more, wanted to hear the man's voice before he was left again to his solitude. "Was it good to see me?"
Will laughed, Hannibal felt nearly drunk on the sound. "Good? No, it was great."
Hannibal reminded still for several seconds after Will had left, before finally going to the corner of his cell to remove the book Will had left him. A collection of old European fairy tails, there was already a bookmark tucked between the pages, marking a story about vampires. On the bookmark in Will's handwriting was two words that brought Hannibal more joy than he had known in years: start packing.