A/N: Hey guys, before I say anything, let's just pause for a second and appreciate the beauty that is Hannibal….ah as we all wait for the beginning of season 3 of this grotesquely gorgeous show (it feels like its eons away) I wanted to write something about the good old days when Will Graham's life was slightly less complicated, when he was a wee little fly that was beginning to get entangled in the silky, complicated, psychologically twisted web of Hannibal. This is set in the time when Will had encephalitis; he is not yet aware of his illness and is questioning his sanity, and the ever helpful Doctor is always there to throw in a dash of insecurity, and a pinch of "it's ok to become a psychopathic serial killer and eat your victims with wine", just to spice things up a little.

Masterpiece

He sat on his bed, tracing the path carved by the raindrops glinting in the moonlight as they slithered down the glass window, the rain always calmed him, the steady downpour seeming to lull the world into a delightful slumber, often startling it awake with a stray flash of lightning or a guttural growl of thunder, he absorbed the sight in front of him, the tree line visible through the veil of raindrops, he suddenly shifted scrambling forward on his hands and knees he fell of the edge of his bed, shocking his friends, he crawled to his window peering into the night, he gasped as he it appeared again, he let out a shaky breath, steeling his resolve he quickly threw the window open, allowing entry to the drops of precipitation, he leaped out in one motion, landing rather ungracefully as he slid across the lawn surrounding his house, he then ran towards the tree line, his friends shouting or him from the window, paying no attention to them or the stinging rain he ran faster and faster, bare feet muddy, he stopped at the edge of the woods, breathing harshly and shivering from the cold, his night clothes offering him no aid, "I see you!" he shouted into the darkness "I see you!" he repeated louder, the woods seemed to yell something back as he was pushed backwards with tremendous force, bloody handprints appearing on his clothes, he did not have time to react as dark arms held onto him and dragged him by his feet, he tried desperately to hold on to something! Anything! The image of his little house being replaced by dark ominous trees, he struggled to free himself from the vice like grip, "what do you want from e!" the dark arms suddenly disappeared, getting off the damp leaf covered ground, he ran as fast as he could, something inhumanly fast was right behind him, he could hear its breathing, it was getting closer, the woods went on and on, he kept on running until his legs finally gave out, he sank to the ground, twigs and branches cutting into his skin, he looked up to face his monster, it was stalking towards him, its dark form throbbing with malicious energy and death, its smell, rotting flesh, it made him gag and his eyes water, he knew this creature somehow, it touched his face with its slimy hand, bringing its face to his ear, it whispered in its grotesque voice "I can see you too...".

Ring…Ring…Ring…

He got up with a start, sweat soaking his skin, his friends whimpering around him worriedly, "hey, hey its ok Winston", he patted the frantic brown dog affectionately "I'm alright", he picked up his phone "hello?", "Hello! Will! Where are you? We have a case, get here, now! ", "ok…ok…where? uhuh..I'll be right there", he took wobbly step to the bathroom, and splashed ice water on his face, the dream although tamer than his most of his recent ones, had left him physically exhausted, hardly a surprise, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, green eyes bloodshot, brown hair matted with sweat, his dogs running around his legs excitedly, he shut the door, guiding them outside, they had to have their breakfast on time or all hell would break loose, and for himself, he made some coffee and decided not to have anything to eat, he made his way to the car. The aspirin he swallowed made him wince, but they were more than necessary to dissuade the inevitable headache coming his way, taking a deep breath and focused all his attention on the road ahead, and the rest of the world faded to black as it always did, the ebb and flow of his breath filled his ears and he relished in the calm that was soon to be destroyed.

The sirens were blaring, stereotypic yellow police tape lining the scene, Detective Jack Crawford saw Will's car pull up, he looked even paler than usual, 'this is not good', Will walked up to the side of the house and stood there as if in a trance, he looked even worse up close, as if he hadn't slept in days "you alright? , Will?", he was busy staring at a wall in front of him, a giant pair of antlers trying to push through it, 'it's not real it's no real, it's not…' "Will!" he whipped his head towards the gruff voice of detective Crawford, "are you with me on this?" Will nodded vigorously, taking off his glasses and wiping the sweat from his face, "Where is it?", "follow me", Jack knew better than to expect Will to pay full attention, he mind was always too busy dealing with itself, "So the victim's son found her in the morning, she was alone last night, the staff was given yesterday off, the kids and husband were out too, something to do with the butler passing away", they entered the large house, the shocked family was being questioned by one of the officers, "we have the best security system money can buy! I don't understand how this freak got inside!" the tall middle aged man, who must have been the husband was yelling "Mr. Anderson, Detective Jack Crawford" "Detective!, What are you standing around for! I want this man caught! Do you hear me?" Jack sighed "Sir, we have our best people on it", "best people?" he scoffed, "This wouldn't have happened if you were doing your job in the first place!" he was pacing now, "I'm going to sue that security company! I will bring them to their knees!", "You don't have to feel guilty Mr. Anderson, he would have killed her anyway, even if you hadn't given your staff the day off" Will said from behind Jack, Mr. Anderson looked shocked, for the first time since the police came here, he was quiet, he cleared his throat let out a shaky breath, Will's words opening the flood gates of emotion and guilt he was trying so hard to keep closed, a lone tear escaped his eyes, "he was targeting her for a while, it's not your fault" , with that, the fuming man began sobbing, "The last conversation we had, we were arguing, I regret marrying you, the last words I…I said to her" he sat down and held his face in his hands, "was the dog here last night?", "What? Who is this guy?", "This is Will Graham, he's our consultant", "yeah toby was home", replied one of the maids standing next to them, Will nodded, "the killer knew the her well, so well that she may have let him in the house, Toby knew him too", Jack smiled to himself, when Will spoke with that certain cadence, he knew that his head was in the case, "We will let you know when we have something" he told them and they walked up a particularly long winding staircase, the wall next to them filled with photographs of the family, laughing, playing, hugging, Will was scrutinizing them, his mind working unconsciously to collect the vast amount of information they provided "what a sad miserable family" he said almost to himself, they reached it.

The sunlight filtered through the large French windows, the white curtains glowing, the antique furniture and pale paint gave the room a serene look, save for the dead body staring at him, the lady who used to be an elegant one, was seated on one of the ornate chairs in front of her bedroom mirror, she was taped to the chair, back straight, arms on the arm rests, her tall stilettos still strapped to her feet. Jack and all the others walked out of the room and shut the door, leaving only the two of them inside.

Will breathed deeply, and let his eyes close for a moment, there was complete silence in his surroundings and in his mind, his racing heart slowed to steady rhythm, like a ticking clock. Mrs. Anderson sat up straighter on her chair, the tape she was bound with wore away, the color returned to her cheeks, her auburn hair regained its sheen and her make-up once smeared, became impeccable again, the pearls on the floor restrung themselves into a delicate necklace and wove around her neck, "Hello Celia!", "I greet her as I enter the door, she is not startled by my presence, nor does she feel threatened, she was expecting me, It is what I wanted, I move forward with purpose, grab her by the throat, and push her against the wall, I take care not to further harm her, she is my canvas, I need her intact for the clarity of my brush strokes, I drive the knife into her spine, disabling her completely, and seat her so she can face herself, I then set out to carve my sculpture, I keep her alert, she has to feel my knife's edge, she has to see herself turned into something worthy, something beautiful, I have to bring it out for all the world to see, this…is my design"

"So you think the killer's message is that she was not worthy before?" Jack clarified, "the killer feels the urge to change her into something valuable, judging by the detailed carvings and patterns he made on her face and the positioning, he did it because…because he wanted her to see herself, wanted her to know that he was…" Will pinched the bridge of his nose and felt a slight tremor in his hands, "that he was helping her", Jack nodded, "What relationship did the killer have with the her?" , "lover, friend confidant…" Will shook his head and took off his glasses, the headache was starting again, the aspirin did absolutely nothing, "they were very close, but had to remain discreet for some reason, from what I saw, the staff didn't like her much, so he must have seen something in her that was beautiful, that was worth saving, he wanted to cut away the shell to show everyone", Jack noticed the growing unrest on Will's face and decided to refrain from asking more from him "okay, I will have them bring the body down to the lab, and people let's wrap up here".

Will drove to the lab, he kept his mind busy going over the details of thee case, to try and figure out more about the murder, it would certainly be helpful in ignoring the voices in his head. "The cuts show extreme precision, the work is intricate and attempted to be symmetrical", Beverly Katz said in an almost appreciative tone, probing the wounds on the body, "Yeah and the knife is super-efficient, so I think that it was specialized for carving" Price added, the fluorescent light of the gloomy room cast a pale light over them, Will sat to the side looking at the prone figure on the examination table with reluctance, "he's an artist or a sculptor of some kind" both Zeller and Price said in unison, "I figured it out first!" they both said again, "he will kill again, very soon, the cuts on the cheek are made with more confidence, he will only get bolder", "wow thanks for stating the obvious Jimmy!" The argument continued and faded into the background, as Will noticed the dead body get off the table, it turned to look at Will, he gasped, none of the others seemed to see this happening, 'so it's all in my head' vision got blurry all of a sudden, it started again, he did not know what to do, he looked around him but there was no one else there now, the body extended its arm, reaching for him, she looked so sad, so broken, he had to help her, she was so lonely, he held her cold hand in his, trying to offer her some comfort ,he felt like he couldn't breathe, the room was stifling, "Will! Will!" he could hear the distorted voice of Jack Crawford, and he snapped out of it, he was now standing next to the body, holding its hand, he let it go quickly and stepped away from the table, "Damn you don't look too good" Beverly came in behind Jack taking off her gloves "told you something was wrong with him" she nudged Jack with her elbow, Jack shook his head, while Zeller and Price looked at him with what hated most…pity, Jack held Will's shoulder steadying him and placed a palm on his forehead, he was running a high fever, "go home Will, you are taking the rest of the day off. No! Don't argue with me, just go".

"Hey! Listen to me! You better tell her today! Otherwise this is over!" "Yeah ok I know babe, I will talk to her!", Henry watched the fighting couple from across the street, the man seemed to him like an especially despicable one, he had been following him for three days now, he had a wife at home, she would be waiting for him every night, they had serious problems, "your wife doesn't know it's you, she doesn't know you are the reason she can't have babies, but you make her suffer for it, everyday". The man had sent his girlfriend home on a taxi, he turned to look behind him, "son of a bitch!" he threw his cigarette down and squashed it under his boot, "Hey! You!, what do you think you're doing huh?", Henry quickly disappeared into the shadows, the man was now walking towards him "why do I see you everywhere?", Henry had not anticipated this, he thought fast, the man approaching him was roughly the same size as him, he could run away and do his some other day, but the urge was back, It would eat him alive if he did not act on it, he had made the decision. He stepped out to face the man, bubbling with excitement "its ok, its ok" he whispered, stepping closer to him "whoa! Back off du…" Henry held his face with his hands, "it's ok, I will help you, I will help you, I will help you be beautiful!" Henry laughed frenziedly, the man tried to push him off, clearly shocked, but he was pushed back toward the lamppost next to him, it knocked the wind out of his lungs, he tried to fight him but failed, he was faster, he smashed his head against the lamppost, he heard the impact before he felt the splitting pain, then everything faded to black…