Chapter Text
Police lights were flashing at one of The Ripper’s crime scenes. Will Graham stood in front of the one-man exhibit. Jack had called him at an ungodly time in the morning, which he would have been grouchy about if he didn’t already want to escape his dreams and thoughts. A case was a perfect distraction.
Until it wasn’t.
The body was comfortably leaned against a crape myrtle in west virginia. The trophy was a thin slice of tender flesh along the back, thighs, and chest. The rest of the victim’s (Thomas Greene, 23, male) body had been inscribed with various phrases in many languages. The crime scene was fresh with the thick smell of blood in the air. It was a smell Will knew well, it littered most of his work life for years.
But this time was different. It was crimson with roses and smelled like home, drinking dewdrops of honeysuckle. He hated the way it grated on his nerves and comforted them at the same time.
“Will, we’re clearing the crime scene. If you need anything, I won't be too far.”
The agent nodded, and heard Jack calling up Zeller and Price and the rest of the site.
Letting his eyes close, the pendulum swung.
One
Two
Three,
The scene was unpacked, quite literally. Miscellaneous bouquets were delicately wrapped and the air would have smelled like bliss. The body Will stood over was fresh even as he whittled at its skin. He spoke no words to himself out of fear.
All he could see of the killer was a message of love.
~
Back at the lab, Thomas Greene’s body was laid out on the examination table. Jack Crawford stood long ways next to the table, while Beverly, Zeller, and Price were inspecting the victims wounds.
“So, got anything on Greene?” Jack Crawford asked, crossing his arms. Beverely turned her head. “Yeah, he worked an office job for the last four years, with a relatively clean criminal record. Stole a couple things in his teenage years and got arrested for that.”
Zeller chuckled. “Expensive things? Or was it those cases of sweet toothed kids with no cash?”
Bev smiled, “Just cars and grandma antiques.”
Jack sighed. “Can we please get back on track? Will, what's your outlook?”
Will snapped out his spiral, approaching the table.
Thomas’ eyes were the same shade of blue as his. Now that he thought about it, he was very similar in other ways. Matching complexion and body type, same build.
It made Will shiver. He prayed it was just a coincidence. He really hoped it was just a freak coincidence.
“Yeah, um, did any of you check for any essential oils? And what language are the carvings in?”. Zeller handed Will a piece of printer paper, and leaned onto the table.
“You bet. The aroma’s from Rose and honeysuckle oil, as well as orchid salves in the wounds and places around the body.”
Will took off his glasses to rub his eyes. “And what would those places be?”
Bev smiled at him. “Tests notice it brushed on most places, but there’s a larger collection of it over the thighs, hips, neck and underside of the jaw, and between the shoulder blades–Oh, and the lips as well. Orchid flowers and rose petals were also found in the throat. The Ripper really went for it this time, didn’t he?”
Jack Crawford turned to Will. “You think it’s The Ripper?”
Will sighed. "Absolutely. Although the killer wasn’t…humiliating him. He…” Will trailed off, breathing out heavily. “What do the carvings say?”
Price lifted the sheet off of the cadaver a bit. “They’re in a lot of languages, mostly romance languages, as well as–” “Yes , but what do they say? ”
Price cleared his throat at Will’s interruption. “A lot of things.” Will seethed. “Is that a way of telling me you don’t know?”. Beverely nodded. “We’ve only had a couple hours with the body, Will.” she paused, turning to Jack. “Do we have any good linguistics?”
Jack nodded, “Yes, but I’ve got a better idea. Will, you have Hannibal’s number, right? Call him for me, he’s good with these things. Could probably help us with the flowers as well.”
Will wanted to complain about how Jack could have just called him. But his dread was more imminent, seeing the doctor was one of the things he wanted to avoid today. He was doing so well to not think of the turmoil of his slumber the night before.
But Will could not deny the little part of his mind that felt…odd. He again chose to ignore it and dialed the man’s number.
“Will? Our appointment isn’t until tomorrow. Are you all right?”
“Yes, Jack needs you,” he paused, “I need your help on a case. You wouldn’t happen to know french? Or, uh, anything about flowers?” He could almost hear Hannibal chuckle softly on the other side of the phone. “I most certainly do. I assume you are at the lab? I’ll be there shortly.”
Will thanked him before hanging up and returned to the examination room. Beverly was rinsing her hands while the two other men were chatting in the corner. (Jack was gone, most likely making a phone call)
Will discreetly studied the two crime scene investigators. They were oddly close, physically and emotionally. Price was slightly red in the cheeks, while Zeller’s eyes were switching between meeting the other man’s and glancing at the point where his collarbones peeked out from under his lab coat.
It clicked in Will’s mind, and he walked up to the agents.
“Are you two sleeping with each other?”
Both of them almost choked on air, and Bev started howling with laughter. “ Will! ” She giggled, “That’s not just something you can casually ask someone–” “But they make it so obvious !”, he retorted. The two men were still recovering from needing life support, but he turned back to them. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Zeller nodded, helping Price compose himself. “ How the fuck did you know?”, still laughing. Will shrugged. “As I said, you made it pretty obvious. Price looked like he just scrambled out of an oven and you kept looking him up and down.”
Beverly cackled even harder.
~
A couple minutes later, the laughter had died down, and Jack had come back from his phone call. He walked up to Will, obviously stressed.
“You called Dr. Lecter, right?” Will nodded, “Yeah, he should be here in a few minutes.”
At that, a soft knocking was heard at the door. Will turned around, Jack laughing quietly. There was Hannibal in an elegant three-piece suit, smiling. Will’s heart skipped a beat, but he ignored it, favoring to greet the doctor.
“Dr. Lecter, thank you for arriving on such short notice.” He went to shake his hand, but instead shoved his hands in his pockets. Hannibal looked…oddly delighted.
Jack Crawford motioned for the doctor to approach the cadaver. Soon, they all surrounded it.
“So, Will informed me you all needed some assistance translating french?” He observed the corpse, taking note of the markings. Will felt oddly uneasy at the sight. He knew they both viewed it as a work of art, something holy and something beautiful.
“We’re gonna need a lot of help other than french.” Jack motioned to a carving that was clearly in mandarin and handed Hannibal a pair of gloves, which he quickly slipped on. He nodded at Jack and began to examine the bloody messages more closely, leaning down and resting his forearms on the table. He stood next to Will, the sides of chest almost brushing his hips.
“It’s not extremely clear, but the message across the chest…” his fingers glided delicately over the wound. “It’s a french phrase– ‘Tu as des beaux yeux’. It means ‘You have beautiful eyes’. Which is explainable. It seems our killer is smitten.”
Will choose to ignore that.
Jack Crawford took a deep sigh and crossed his arms. “Will, tell Doctor Lecter what we know.” he looked towards the brunet man.
“It’s most definitely The Ripper. Rose and honeysuckle oil in the wounds, orchid salve over the body as well as flowers down the throat.” Hannibal stood up, turning his gaze to Will.
“I’m assuming red roses are one of those flowers?” Will nodded. “Red roses symbolize true love, and roses in pagan practices can be used for sexual attraction and romance. Honeysuckle is used for happiness, but I suspect it has a deeper meaning to the killer and the message he’s trying to convey. Orchid represents similar elements of sensuality, sexuality, and romance.”
Beverly laughed, causing everyone to look at her.
“That reminds me, Hannibal, Jack, Will asked the funniest question earlier…”
~
“And so then Will just straight up told Brian he saw him checking him out.” there was a loud laughter from Jack which Will shied away from before hearing a deep, husky laugh from beside him. He turned to Dr. Lecter, surprised by the heavy display of emotion. It seemed the rest of the room was as well.
Jack smiled, “Will, I didn’t figure you to be a tease like that.” Hannibal rested his hand on Will's shoulder, turning the man tense. “Neither did I, Jack. But, Mr Zeller, Mr Price, no need to fret, we’re all friendly here. I know I've…consorted with women and men alike.”
Will tensed up even more, suddenly feeling very warm. He should ask Beverely how to use the thermostat. Instead he coughed. “So, what are the other phrases written?”
Jack chuckled, “Yes, pardon, let’s get back on track. What do they say, Hannibal?”
“Mostly just various affectionate phrases. A couple that stand out to me are–” Will stepped forward, cutting off the doctor. “What is this one?” he pointed at a smaller carving concentrated on the heart. Hannibal dismissed his interruption and glanced down at the cut skin. He smiled. “My mother tongue– ‘man patinka, kaip tu nulupti mano sluoksnius’, ‘I love how you peel back my layers’.”
Layers?
The thought coiled in the back of his throat.
A suit.
~
Will rolled his shoulders and neck, leaning against the corner comfortably. The building was quiet, the night rolling in slowly. He was almost alone.
Oddly enough, he hated the idea of being left by himself. The stresses of work, the case, the nightmare, lack of sleep. Not to mention how social he was required to be today. The edges of his vision kept playing tricks on him, anxiety curling up in between his ribs.
Feed the beast?
“No,” he snapped.
“Will? Are you alright?”
He startled at the doctor’s voice, rubbing the dark circles under his eyes. “Don’t you have places to be this late at night, Doctor?” Hannibal approached him, coat in hand. “My plans are open. Will you be heading home soon?” The younger man shrugged. Hannibal smiled, shuffling his coat on. “I have dinner waiting at my place. We could discuss the case, or just talk. Whatever you need, Will.”
Whatever I need.
He stretched momentarily before meeting the doctor’s eyes and shivering.
They looked hungrily awake. A cool hue reflected from the lights. All Will could think of was a lighthouse.
If the psychiatrist was a lighthouse, was Will the message of danger or the one graced by the light of a silver tower?
Hannibal smiled with teeth– pearls set in gum– and Will could only think of his dream the night before.
It was a small thought.
What if he said yes?