Will was tired. He hadn't had a comfortable sleep since the Hobbs case, and even then sleep was never really fulfilling. He had been daydreaming more often, about visiting Abigail, and taking care of her, about finding some good way to apologize to her for everything. He found himself forgetting the things he needed to do to stay alive, like eating or drinking something other than scotch. Lately he got his best meals at Hannibal Lecter's place. Despite Hannibal's darkly tinged gothic home, he felt rather comfortable there. Maybe it was just because he was always close to Hannibal, his therapist, whose job it was to make him feel secure. Maybe therapy actually was working on him. Will looked up. The lecture hall was empty, which was good, Will could focus in empty rooms. He reached for a bottle of- something whatever could tame his unshakable hangover, and grabbed a case file. He watched the pictures and notes spill from its opening before setting it aside. He sighed, swallowing two pills and looking back on the notes. All of the victims were men, early 30's, good looking, all of them had been reported to be in a same-sex relationships before they were-
"Will?" Will stopped, turning slowly from his work. stood in the doorway, his coat wrapped neatly in his arms.
"Will." The man said again, walking towards him, "I've been calling to you for quite some time." Will stared at him before diverting his gaze. He was well-dressed as always. His darkly striped jacket hid a blue vest, and a tie.
"Sorry, , I was focusing on" he took a second to spread his arms to the pictures scattered across the table, "this." Hannibal looked at him, there was something in his still eyes, that Will couldn't place. An emotion that was close to concern, but not quite.
"Jack Crawford told me you woke up by a river bed."
"It wasn't a river, it was a lake." Will corrected, still facing the pictures.
"I must insist that you tell me whenever you wake up in strange places, Will." He rolled his eyes. He always woke up in strange places, what was the point of reporting each and every one.
Hannibal held his gaze silently before turning to the pictures as well. He picked one up, examining it.
"The killer sprawled this body out on the bed.."
"Yes." Will interrupted "Yes, that's his style, he kills men in their prime, and leaves them in some type of- sexual position."
"Sexual insecurity is most usually the violent blossom of abuse." Hannibal said, placing the picture down.
"All killers have been abused in some way.." Will replied with a shake of his head. "This one was just abused in the most obvious way."
"This man.." Hannibal paused for a moment, "Is unsure of himself in almost all other fields."
"Yes," Will said "B-C student, community college, social outcast, no real romantic relationships just fantasies."
"But he is sure of himself when he kills. Death is where he lives his fantasies." Will pondered the theory. If he was ever forced to work with someone, he'd hope to it would be with Hannibal Lecter, he had a way of making the pieces fit a little easier.
"Will?" Jack Crawford stood at the doorway catching his breath, "We found another body, , you're free to join us."
"I think I will." Hannibal said, his tone confident for what he just agreed to face.
It took them about 30 minutes to get to the site of the murder with the help of an ambulance and FBI cars. Will stepped out, looking at the house in front of him. Jack walked with him to the front steps and swung the door open.
"He's in the bedroom." Jack said. Will barely nodded.
"Where's Hannibal?" Will asked, navigating his way through the house. Jack paused, peaking out a window.
"He just got here, I'll tell him to come on in when you finished examining the body." Jack said. Will thanked him lightly. The bedroom door was already opened. Beverly Katz stood behind and Zeller. Her eyes studying the body with ease.
The man laid nude over the sheet of his bed, a wound stung from his leg. His hands and ankles were held with handcuffs. Will wasn'tl, he had pictured something along these lines.
"His name was Paul Raton. The killer entered the home, shot him in the leg, stripped him down and tied him up. A ball gag was lodged into his throat." Katz stated, walking to Will.
"Classy." Zeller said.
"Extremely. Then our killer raped him, and let him bleed out all over the bed sheets." Price finished up.
"Poor bastard." Jack said under his breath. With a sigh, he swirled a finger "Alright, everybody out."
Will listened to them file out of the room. He closed his eyes.
I step into the bedroom. I know that Paul will be waiting there. But not for me, he is happy with his sin. That is why he has to die. Will lifted a pistol I shoot Paul Raton in the leg, he pounced on the body, grabbing for his hands first. I tie him to the bedposts, I prepare him for me, and only me. This is my design.
Will stepped out of the bedroom, wiping sweat from his forehead. Jack stood waiting and behind him, Hannibal, looking calmly out the window.
"What did you see Will?" Jack asked.
"It's the same killer. He is angry and specifically jealous of his victims. He made a mockery of their memory. He tried to make them give what he lacked and they had. A partner." Will took a moment to breath, "He also didn't finish the job."
"So he'll be back." Jack said quietly. Will nodded. "Would you like to take a look at the body, ." Hannibal paused at the offer.
"A quick one, if you'll allow it." Hannibal said.
"Of course" Jack responded. Hannibal turned to Will, a little smile gracing his lips
"I will meet you outside in just a moment."
Will held his jacket closer to him, it was mid fall, the outside air was getting colder. The last of the tree's leaves were wilting into a dirty brown. He enjoyed the fall, it was a good time to hunt, and lavish in the new warm palette of the environment. He wondered, for a moment, if he could take Abigail out to a forest. They could find a nice opening between oak trees to lay out a blanket, maybe near a river, where they could settle down and he could teach her how to fish. Alana would come with them, humming gentle tunes behind the two and encouraging them light heartedly. Hannibal could come later, with ingredients, spices, extra chairs and blankets. Maybe he could show Abigail how to light a fire, and on that fire, Hannibal could cook the fat fish they caught together. He'd show off with vegetables and techniques from all around the world. Maybe they could eat and chat together for a little while.
"Thank you for waiting Will." Hannibal stepped out of the house, pulling on his thick jacket.
"No problem.. Did you notice anything?" Will asked as they walked away from the house, the FBI agent cars and the men reloading bullets into their heavy guns.
"No, you and the FBI were quite thorough. The killer is around the same age as his victims and will be back sometime soon." Will grimaced as they wandered.
"I can't wait for that confrontation." He said only semi-sarcastically. Hannibal looked at him, as if he was contemplating a good question to pose.
"Excuse me?" A man's voice quite clearly cut through Hannibal's thoughts. They turned to face the man. He was slender, his hair flat and flopped forward to cover much of his forehead. His clothes were loose, and hung off the man like baggage.
"Do you know what's happening? Is Paul alright?" The man asked looking to Hannibal then Will expectantly.
"What's your name?" Will asked, his voice edging on intensity.
"Will." Hannibal warned.
"Each victim had a partner Hannibal maybe, what's your name?" Will pressed again.
"My-My name's Anthony. I live do you mean victim? What's going on?" Anthony yammered, staring only at Will.
"Anthony, Paul Raton is dead." Will said, blinking quickly as if to clear his eyes. He turned his full attention to the man. He watched dread slip into the his eyes, watched his spirit crumple. Tears fell onto Anthony's baggy clothes, Will watched him plummet.