A Lot of Strays

by SingingInTheRaiin

Will Graham is an unusual person in regards to his empathy and imagination giving him insight into almost anybody else's mind. But what makes him even more unusual is the small detail where he can see and interact with any dead animal that he comes across. (one-shot)

Will didn't even bother glancing up when he heard the sound of his front door opening. He was used to leaving it unlocked, since there were barely any other people around to break in, and just a single glance through one of his windows would most likely be enough to convince any potential intruders that there was nothing of any real value inside. Which meant that the only reason the door had for being open was if one of Will's few friends had decided to drop by for an impromptu visit.

He was proven correct when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, and then a comfortingly familiar voice spoke. "What are you up to?"

Will finally turned to face Alana, who was one of his closest friends. She had a look of concern and slight apprehension on her face, though that was an understandable reaction. Most people would find it odd to come across their friend smashing down their own chimney. "There was an animal in there. I had to help it get out."

Her shoulders slumped down in apparent relief at his answer. Though of course she wasn't done questioning him. Despite their permanent status as friends, Will didn't think that Alana would ever be able to turn off her professional instincts enough to stop herself from asking more questions. "Was it alive or not?"

Will put down the hammer he was holding in an attempt to seem less intimidating. "Not," he told her grimly. "But even so, it wouldn't be fair to keep it trapped up in there."

Alana nodded understandingly, and Will was once again reminded of why he'd chosen to confide his secret to his friend. She was the only living person who knew about his secret, since his father had passed away years ago. "It's nice that you care so much," she said softly. "But maybe it would be better to find a way to help without breaking down your walls."

Will sighed, and glanced at the wall. "I guess I wasn't really thinking. Sorry."

"It's alright. Is the animal still in there?"

Will paused for a moment to listen, and then shook his head. "No, doesn't seem to be. Guess I scared it away when I started smashing up my wall."

Alana let out a soft laugh. "Well, it means you still helped it get out of there either way, right? Hey, why don't we go on a little walk together. Get your mind off of your current problem."

By the time Alana left, Will did feel better, though he also felt pretty foolish for breaking down his wall like that. It was a good thing that he was so handy with some tools, which meant that he'd be able to at least put up a temporary patch without having to hire any extra help. He reached up thoughtfully to press his fingers against his lips. It had been strange, but nice, for Alana to kiss him. But he knew that she would be much better off with someone who was normal. Will would never be able to give her the kind of relationship she wanted, or deserved.

A gentle barking caught Will's attention, and he looked over to where Winston was standing nearby. He crouched down to give the dog a thorough petting. "You're such a good boy, aren't you? Aren't you?" Winston barked in agreement, and Will grinned as he got up to dig through the kitchen cabinets for a treat. He didn't have any left, but he knew that Winston would understand. After a few more minutes of petting, Winston turned and walked through the wall into the next room.

Will let out a soft sigh, and decided that he would talk to Hannibal in the morning. Just about the kiss with Alana, of course. He couldn't talk about everything without sounding like a complete crazy person. He stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, and climbed into bed. He knew some people would find it odd that his bed was just out in the open downstairs, but it was the only place he could put it where he wouldn't be disturbing any of the animals living upstairs.

The next morning, Will was woken up by a call from Jack, saying that he was pretty sure that orchestra murderer had struck again. Will sighed tiredly, and quickly threw on some clean clothes and drove to the crime scene. The body was that of someone who would have been attractive while still alive. All of his limbs had been twisted around, along with long strips of his skin, to look like a large French horn, and his mouth was held open by a metal mouthpiece.

While it did seem to be the same killer at first glance, Will could tell that it was not. The first murder had been done in anger at someone who had ruined the show, but mainly to impress someone else. This murder felt more like the killer had been annoyed by something the victim had done, and felt no need to try and impress anybody. "This is the orchestra killer, Jack." Jack was about to say something about having been right, so Will hurried to continue. "I mean the victim is the orchestra killer."

Jack closed his eyes for a moment, and ran a hand over his face before sighing. "So we've got a killer that kills other killers? Or was it just a coincidence? Who did this, Will?'

Something about the scene felt oddly familiar, though Will couldn't quite place where he might have encountered this person before. Maybe Hannibal would be of some help, since Will was planning on going to visit the man anyways. He dropped by, hoping that Hannibal wouldn't have any other appointments at the moment, and almost bumped into a short, round man who was leaving the building. His eyes were red, and he kept sniffling. "Sorry," Will muttered before stepping to the side.

The man paused, and once he saw Will, he settled in place like he was just going to stand there forever. "Hey, you're that FBI agent that's crazy, right?" Then his face flushed red. "Sorry, I mean-"

"It's fine," Will said through gritted teeth.

The man shook his head. "No, I'm really sorry. You have to forgive my rudeness, I'm just-" he let out a sob, and tears began sliding down his cheeks. "My best friend is dead, and I'm a mess right now."

It was Will's job to look at the dead bodies and figure out how they got that way. There was a good reason for him not often being invited to tag along to talk to the people who'd known the victim. He wasn't exactly a people person. "I'm sorry for you loss." He knew to say that much, at least. Though he had to question whether or not it was appropriate to talk to complete strangers about the fact that someone had died.

The man reached up to rub at his eyes. "I know that Tobias was going through some stuff, but I thought that maybe-"

"Wait, Tobias? As in Tobias Budge?" The odds of encountering someone here who knew their dead man seemed so slim, and yet, it was possible.

The man blinked a few times, then nodded once. "Yes. Do you know about him? Are you one of the agents on the case? Please, you have to find out who did this."

If Tobias Budge was really the orchestra killer, it seemed highly unlikely that he'd be close friends with this particular man. But anything was possible, and Will wasn't stupid enough to go around discounting possibilities. "I'm sure you have other engagements at the moment, but if you give me your name and number, I could arrange a time for us to talk more about Tobias."

The man nodded eagerly. "Franklyn Froideveaux." Then he rattled off a phone number without waiting for Will to even pull out a piece of paper to write things down on. "Thank you so much Mr. Graham. I know that if anyone will be able to find out who hurt Tobias, it would be you." Then he reached out to grab Will's hand and shake it before hurrying away.

Will patted down his pockets for his phone, and then added Franklyn's number in before he could forget it. Then he called Jack to leave a message saying that Franklyn might be helpful in the case before heading inside Hannibal's office. The door was open, and when he peered in, he saw Hannibal sitting at his desk, sketching something. He cleared his throat, and Hannibal finished the part he was working on before slowly looking up. "Ah, Will. I was not expecting to see you today." He nodded towards the chair across from his desk. "Please, sit down. I don't have another appointment for an hour."

Will sank down into the chair, and leaned back in it, resting his arms on his lap. There was a moment of silence as he considered how to best word the situation, and then decided that it would be easiest to just spit it out and go from there. "I kissed Alana Bloom last night."

If he weren't looking at Hannibal so intently, he would have missed the miniscule tightening of the man's face that lasted for just a second. It was a strange reaction, but Will didn't want to be a jerk by pointing it out. "Did you." It was more of a statement than a question, for some reason. "And why did you kiss Alana Bloom?"

Will shrugged. To be entirely honest, she was the one who had kissed him. He didn't think it would make much difference right now, though. He hadn't shoved her away, and had easily returned the kiss. "She's very kissable," he said softly. It was true. "But I don't think it would be a good idea for us to start a relationship."

For some reason, that seemed to make Hannibal look more relaxed. "And why is that?"

"We aren't a good fit," Will answered after thinking it over for a moment. "I don't think we'd make each other very happy in the long term. I have a lot of issues that she shouldn't have to deal with."

Hannibal tilted his head. "Are you referring to your empathy as an 'issue'?"

His empathy had never exactly made it easy to be in a relationship because most people wanted to be able to keep some things private from their partners. But it wasn't one of his biggest concerns when it came to something like potentially dating Alana. "No, that's not really it. I just- I just have a lot of baggage." He couldn't go around sharing his secret with everyone he came across, and he found that for some odd reason, he actually cared about what Hannibal thought of him. "She knows a lot more about me than anyone else alive. I'm not sure if that would be a good thing or not, but I don't think it's worth the risk. I'd rather keep her as a friend forever than lose her entirely later on because of some stupid mistake or another."

Instead of saying something about how Will shouldn't just assume the relationship would self-destruct, Hannibal leaned forward and pressed his hands together. "Perhaps it is for the best for you to not get involved with anyone while you are still trying to settle into life as Jack's finest china cup."

"Yeah," Will agreed. It's what he'd been thinking anyways. He was about to say something else, to change the topic to Tobias Budge and Franklyn, but then he heard the loud yowling of a cat in pain. It was hard to say what kind of cat it was, so Will got up and walked over to the corner of the room. He crouched down, and saw the cat in question. It was just a little kitten, but when he glanced back, he could see the confusion on Hannibal's face, and he knew that this cat was not one of the living variety. He curled his fingers to stop himself from reaching out and petting the kitten. Instead he stood back up, stretched, and then walked back over to his seat. "So a weird coincidence," he started, acting like he hadn't just done anything odd. "A man was found dead, and apparently he was friends with one of your patients. You probably already know that though," The look that crossed Hannibal's face only lasted for a second, but it was much colder than anything Will had ever seen before. "...because he was just in here crying about it," he finished awkwardly.

Hannibal's usual warmth returned, and Will wondered if he'd just gone momentarily crazy and imagined the hostility there. "I'm afraid I can't really talk about it. Doctor-patient confidentiality."

Will nodded. "I know, I know. I just thought that it was a bit interesting is all." He stood back up. "Anyways, I'm just going to get going so that you can get ready for your next appointment. I know that you must have a lot of work to do. I'll talk to you later." He glanced over to the corner of the office again, wishing that there was some way to scoop up the kitten and make a run for it without having Hannibal question his sanity entirely. He would just have to leave the kitten to its fate.

As he stepped outside, he realized that Jack had called him back, and left a quick message about how he'd gotten into contact with Franklyn, and had set up a meeting to talk with the man, and wanted Will to be there. Will headed over, and decided that he could grade papers for a couple of hours while he waited for Franklyn and Jack's meeting to start.

As he was driving, he passed by a droopy, sad looking little dog, and he had to pull over and look at the poor thing. The dog seemed excited as Will started petting her, and she let out a few little yips as she butt her head against Will's hand in a request for him to continue with the petting.

Will's house was already pretty full, but he knew that there was always room for one more, so he scooped up the dog, put her down in the backseat, and then headed the rest of the way to work. He knew that he could leave the dog in the car without any problem, since she was already dead.

Time passed by pretty quickly, and Will quickly wrote Franklyn off as completely useless, up until the man mentioned that he believed Tobias to be the orchestra killer. "And what makes you think that?"

Franklyn looked sad, but he didn't take much time to think before answering the question. "He told me that he thought about killing someone and turning them into an instrument, and then that man was found dead very soon afterwards. I don't want to believe that he could be capable of such a thing, but it's hard to know for sure. But now I can't even try to help him because he's dead, and I already miss him so much."

Mourning whininess aside, there wasn't anyone around to say that Tobias wasn't the killer before he'd been killed himself, so Franklyn's word on the matter was probably the closest they would get to any answers. Though it seemed pretty clear once they looked at the fact that Tobias owned a shop that sold catgut string, and they would do a thorough investigation of his actual strings.

Once Franklyn had left, Will took that as permission for him to take off as well, and he headed home. The dog that he had left in his car was still there, and she seemed pretty happy to see him. He spent a few more minutes petting her before heading home. The other animals were all happy enough to make a new friend, and Will introduced the new girl to everyone else.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, and was just about to start drinking it when he got a call from Alana. He didn't want to make things weird by not answering, but he got the feeling that answering would make things equally weird. At least it wouldn't make Alana angry with him. Hopefully it wouldn't, anyways. Sometimes it was hard to tell with her.

After letting the phone ring a couple of times, he decided that it was better to answer than not. She started talking before Will even had a chance to say hello. "Look, I wanted to talk about what happened last night. I've always felt like you were interested in me, but that doesn't give me the right to go and kiss you without permission, and I know that I've made things weird between us, but I just have to ask. Do you really think that we have no chance together?"

Will rolled the words over his tongue for a long moment before responding. "No, I don't," he finally said. "Some things in life just aren't meant to be. You and I make such good friends, and I have so much going on in my life. It just wouldn't be fair to either of us to get together."

There was a long pause, and Will almost thought that Alana had hung up before she finally spoke again. "I guess I don't really understand. Is there anyone else who knows about your secret? Not that I'm saying you have to tell people to be in a relationship with them, but it's probably a good idea to."

"You're the only one who knows that about me. But half the time I think you're just humoring me, and waiting to throw me into the psych ward for being out of my damn mind."

Alana snorted. "I'm sure if I wanted to have you locked up, I could find an easier way than saying that you told me you can talk to animals. It would be way too easy for you to deny."

Will laughed. "I can't talk to animals."

"Can see and pet dead animals, then. I'm sure the judges of the crazy wards will be so comforted by such a distinction."

They were both silent for a moment, and then Will sighed. "I'm sorry, Alana. I'm sorry that I can't be who you need me to be."

"It's okay Will," she said in that gentle voice of hers. "I just want you to be yourself, and to be happy. I'm going to go now, but don't think that we're just going to stop talking to each other forever, or anything like that. We're still friends, right?"

Will nodded, even though he knew that Alana wouldn't be able to see the motion over the phone. "Yeah, we're still friends. I'll see you soon, okay?" Then he hung up, and slid his phone back into his pocket. He looked over at the newest dog, who was staring up at him. "I live kind of a crazy life," he warned her. "You might want to get out now while you still can." The dog just yipped cheerfully in response, and Will grinned down at her.

,,,

Will knew that he was doing something absolutely crazy, and if he was caught, he would definitely have no reasonable explanation for this, but it was something that he felt like he needed to do. He glanced around again, to triple check that there was no one around, and then he wiggled in through the partially open window to Hannibal's office.

There, over in the same corner where he'd last seen him, was the poor little kitten who seemed to be in a lot of pain. He quickly picked him up and began stroking his head, trying to calm the animal down. Cats weren't really Will's animal of choice, but he had nothing against them, and he hated to see any animals in pain.

After getting the kitten to stop shouting so loudly, Will gently tucked him into his jacket pocket, and then headed back over to the window. Just as he reached out to grab the sill, the light to the office flicked on, and he could hear Hannibal's familiar voice coming from the doorway. "Will, what a surprise. I wasn't expecting to see you twice in one day."

It was hard to tell from Hannibal's voice what he was thinking, though the man didn't sound angry, at least, which was a good place to start. He slowly turned around to face Hannibal, and hoped that he didn't look as guilty as he felt. Even if it was for a good reason, he knew that he shouldn't be breaking into Hannibal's office, and he knew that he would have no excuse to give to Hannibal that would make this seem like an even remotely okay thing to do. "Uh, look, I'm really sorry about this. I wasn't- uh-"

Hannibal just looked at him with that stupid little head tilt of his, not making any attempt to try and help Will out of this mess that he'd gotten himself into. "Perhaps you were not aware of my usual office hours?"

Will could feel his face starting to flush a bit pink. No one in their right mind would think that someone like Hannibal would have office hours at four in the morning. "No, it's not that. I just- uh- what are you doing here so late?" He cringed at the accusatory tone to his voice when he was the one caught breaking and entering. Well, he hadn't actual broken anything. Just entered.

A very tiny smirk graced Hannibal's lips, and the psychiatrist definitely appeared to be amused at the moment. "I like to arrive early some days to go over my journals. May I ask what has brought you here so late?"

Will took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. "Alright, this is probably going to sound a little bit crazy."

"Many things said to me in this office do come across that way."

Will reached into his pocket to gently pat the top of the kitten's head, taking comfort from the presence of the little thing. "I, uh, I had a dream where you fought Tobias Budge to the death in your office, and I came to assure myself that that's not what really happened. But now I can see that it really was just a dream, and I will be on my way."

Hannibal gestured towards the chair Will usually sat in during their appointments. "Why don't we talk about this some more, Will. That's a very specific dream for you to have had, and I am curious about what could have caused it."

It's not like Will really had much choice. He didn't want Hannibal filing a police report against him, and he got the feeling that that was the choice being given to him at the moment. Accept the impromptu therapy session, or get arrested for trespassing. It wasn't a very difficult decision when put like that.

He sank down into the seat, and knew that the smile on his face had to look pretty awkward at the moment. "I have no idea why I might have had a dream like that."

Hannibal arched one eyebrow, and it felt a bit like the man was somehow staring straight through Will's body and into his soul. "Who was the winner of this fight to the death that you dreamt of?"

"You, of course," Will said quickly. Then he ducked his head down to avoid meeting Hannibal's gaze. He must sound like a total moron right now. There's no way that Hannibal would believe a single word out of Will's mouth.

Or maybe there was. "Please, explain why it's so obvious that I would be the winner."

Hannibal definitely sounded amused now. Whether he believed Will or not, he was not at all trying to hide that he was entertained by how awkward Will felt at the moment. Will sank down a bit into his seat, and tried not to show any reaction to the feeling of the kitten crawling out of his pocket and sprawling onto his lap, where it began kneading into his stomach. He gulped as he thought about what to say. There's no way he could say anything along the lines of Hannibal looking strong without seeming like a complete pervert, so he hurried to think of some other answer. "In my dream he was already hurt before he came here. He was, uh, shot in the ear. And he was really mad, which made his clumsy. So you just had a couple advantages, that's all. Look, I'm really sorry about coming in here like this without permission, and I should really just go instead of making you sit around and chat with the guy who is trespassing."

One side of Hannibal's mouth quirked up into a little smirk. "Of course. I imagine that you could use some rest after a night of such troubling dreams."

Will nodded gratefully, and tried his best to disguise the motion of putting the kitten back into his pocket before he stood up so that he wouldn't dump the poor thing onto the floor. Having received Hannibal's permission to leave, Will was quick to get out of there, and drove home much quicker than the law allowed for. He was lucky that it was early enough for not many other people to be out.

Once he was home, feeling like he was somewhere safe and comfortable again, he let the kitten out, and made sure that all of his strays were okay with the new animal. Most of them never had a problem with new comers. It's not like he really had to worry about running out of space for them, since they always eventually went away on their own.

Will wasn't even sure what happened. If they 'moved on' like ghosts out of some eighties movie, or if they found a better place to live in Will's house, or if they just felt like wandering the planet all of a sudden. All he knew was that they all came and went at their own pace, and they only stayed in his place because he'd offered.

Sometimes Will had to wonder if there were other people out there like him. He couldn't really understand why any of the animals would choose to leave, since they most likely weren't going to be able to get any physical affection, or any kind of affection for that matter, from anyone else in the world. Unless Will was just completely out of the loop, and there were millions of people the same as him.

Other times, Will wondered if he really was just completely crazy. No one else could see or hear or feel any of the dead animals that Will encountered. It was a strange ability, and it didn't help that Will's empathy already made him feel unstable at times. At least Alana believed him about the animals, even if she was just humoring him.

For a moment, Will wondered what Hannibal would think if Will told him his secret. The man was a psychiatrist, so he must have heard plenty of strange things over the course of his career, but for some reason, Will couldn't stomach the thought of Hannibal of all people believing him to be legitimately crazy.

He shook aside the brief moment of insanity where he'd actually even considered the idea of letting Hannibal in on the truth of his life. There was no way he could go around telling people. Alana had initially found out by accident, thanks to a combination of watching Will seemingly talk to himself, and then just moments later watching him get knocked to the ground by some force she couldn't see. It was actually a small bear that Will had been attempting, and failing, to calm down. It was definitely an upside that the only times animals seemed unable to interact with him physically was when they were going to hurt him. That's why he'd never had to explain away any strange scratches or bite marks.

Will started towards his bed, but then realized that he wasn't actually very tired. He'd probably gotten too much adrenaline from breaking into Hannibal's office, and being caught doing it. He tried to direct a scolding look to the new kitten, but it just looked so small and innocent that he couldn't really be angry. And besides, it had been his choice to sneak in and grab it. It wasn't the kitten's fault that it was too stupid to just leave the office on its on during one of the many times that the door was opened throughout the day.

Though that did bring up an interesting question of how a dead cat wound up in Hannibal Lecter's office. Will snorted out loud at the ridiculous idea that Hannibal had killed a defenseless little animal. Though it wasn't actually too difficult to imagine Hannibal killing another person. What was it they said about it always being the quiet ones? As he thought about it, his made up dream rose to the top of his mind, and he wondered why it was so easy to picture a fight between Hannibal and Tobias Budge in vivid detail.

Will sighed and shook his head, then headed into the kitchen to rummage through his alcohol cabinet. Just a bit to help him sleep would be enough. Though maybe he'd need a bit more to ever be able to look Hannibal in the eyes again after what just happened. Not that he looked Hannibal in the eyes all that often, but it was almost surprising to realize that he made more eye contact with Hannibal than with any other person. Will decided to just shrug aside that revelation, and he brought a glass of whiskey with him to the couch after using it to chase down a couple advil.

He didn't even realize that he'd fallen asleep until a loud pounding on his front door woke him up. Will groaned, and stood up, wincing a moment later when his glass tumbled to the ground with a loud thud. He picked it up, and was glad to see that it didn't appear to have been harmed by the drop. Then he ambled over to the door, pausing to rub sleepily at his eyes before opening it.

Jack was standing there, an angry look on his face. "Why the hell didn't you answer your phone the first hundred times I called you?"

Will sighed. "Sorry, I was asleep. What happened?"
Jack didn't seem bothered in the slightest by how rumbled Will looked at the moment. He just continued on in his loud, annoyed voice. "Franklyn Froideveaux is dead. Hardly seems like a coincidence to me when he's the only one who might have been able to help us figure out who killed Tobias Budge."

Will blinked a few times, wondering just how long he'd been asleep for all of this to have gone down. "You heard him at that interview, Jack. He wasn't going to be able to help us with anything," he muttered. Will knew that it sounded harsh, but Jack would understand that it was just the truth. "What's the time of death?"

"Between two and five is what I've been told so far." Will finally looked down at his watch, which is something he should have done from the moment he woke up. It was just after three in the afternoon. Jack kept talking when Will didn't bother to interrupt him. "The body was found about one o'clock by someone who works in the wine store he was placed outside of." He shoved an envelope into Will's hands.

Will warily flipped it open, and was met with the photos from the crime scene. He tilted his head as he looked at them, and then looked up at Jack with raised eyebrows. Jack scowled, and his jaw was clenched. "I know what it looks like. So I suppose that you're going to tell me you think we have a killer with a penchant for arcade games on our hands?"

That's certainly what it looked like at first glance. But it was Will's job to look past the initial assumptions to figure out what was really going on. Even from the pictures he could tell that the killer had never intended for his tableau to be so reminiscent of Pac-Man. The killer probably didn't know know what Pac-Man was.

As Will slowly went through the short stack of pictures, he asked Jack, "You said he was found outside a wine store?" He glanced up just long enough to see Jack's nod before he looked back at the photos. "You know, in paintings, they usually draw a cheese wheel with one little wedge missing. And people often think of wine and cheese as being complementary to each other."

Jack sighed. "So you think he's supposed to be a wheel of cheese? I suppose that that's at least a little bit better than Pac-Man. What else?"

It was as frustrating as always when Jack treated Will like some kind of vending machine, where he thought that he could just yank the lever and have answers spill out for him. After spending several minutes convincing Jack that no, he really couldn't tell anything else from the pictures, the other man finally went on his way.

After he was gone, Will decided to pour himself some more whiskey, and sink back down onto the couch. Maybe he was getting a bit excessive with the amount of alcohol he'd been consuming lately, but he felt that it was well within his rights to drink as much as he did, considering how much he had to deal with on a daily basis.

He spread the glossy pictures out on the small coffee table after shoving aside the random debris that was piled up there, and then leaned back and tilted his head to swallow the last few sips from the glass he'd poured out. Maybe he should have just taken the entire bottle into the living room with him.

As he stared at the pictures, a few different ideas began swirling around. Franklyn was a patient of Hannibal's. He was also a friend of Tobias'. During his interview with Jack, Franklyn hadn't put much effort into trying to hide the fact that he seemed to be at least a little bit obsessed with his psychiatrist, which had to be pretty irritating to someone like Hannibal. Hannibal had been out at four in the morning, already looking completely prim and proper, which meant he'd likely been awake for at least a little while before that.

It was a completely ludicrous idea, and yet… it wouldn't hurt to at least talk to the man, and maybe subtly try to get the man's alibi. It's not like Will actually believed that Hannibal had killed Franklyn, but he wanted to make sure that he covered all of his bases. That was all. There was no reason for Hannibal to be a suspect. A few circumstantial details didn't make someone a killer.

Even as he was thinking that, Will was already grabbing his car keys and heading out the front door. He called out a quick goodbye to his little menagerie, and then headed back to Baltimore. At the rate he'd been going back and forth lately, it wouldn't be very long before he'd need to get a new car. But that was something to worry about some other time.

Will rushed a bit to make sure he'd get to Hannibal's office before it was closed for the night, and as soon as he got there, he ran inside. The office door was closed, but Will was full of momentum at the moment, so he shoved the door open, and burst into the room. There were no patients in there, which was good. It took Will a moment to actually spot Hannibal, and then he saw that the man was up with his library, holding a book open in one hand. He peered down at Will with an unreadable expression. "What a surprise. Another unplanned visit from you. You'll have to be careful, or people may start to believe that we are friendly with each other."

Will furrowed his eyebrows. Now that he was actually here, he felt like a complete idiot. He couldn't just come out and ask Hannibal something as stupid as whether or not he'd killed a man. Will gulped, and shook his head, about to make some excuse before rushing out, when he heard a soft mewling from the corner of the office.

Will ignored Hannibal as he turned to see the source of the noise, and spotted the kitten that he'd just rescued this morning. What the hell was it doing back here? Had it not been trapped after all? But in that case, why would it have let Will take it away from here so easily? Will walked over to the kitten, and crouched down to reach out and pet it. It let out a satisfied purr.

It was almost impossible to hear the sound of footsteps as Hannibal moved back down to the ground floor of the office, and Will was slightly startled to hear Hannibal's voice coming from right behind him. "What are you so fascinated with?"

Will reached out to pick up the kitten, and then turned around to face Hannibal. "Nothing, sorry."

Hannibal arched one eyebrow, and then looked pointedly down at where Will was carefully holding his palm up so that the kitten wouldn't fall down. "Is everything alright, Will?"

No. Nothing was making sense, and Will's throat was suddenly parched. "Can I get a drink?" he asked in a way that was obviously meant to distract Hannibal from what he was holding.

Even though there's no way Hannibal fell for the ploy, he did nod once, and head over to his liquor cabinet. "I'm afraid I don't often stock what you are no doubt used to, but I would be more than happy to help you grow your palate." He gently took out a bottle of wine and two glasses.

As the drinks were being poured, Will couldn't suppress his curiosity. "Hannibal, have you ever known of a kitten that's small and gray with a black patch on one ear?"

To anyone not looking for it, the very brief pause in Hannibal's actions would have been completely unnoticeable. "Why do you ask?"

Will narrowed his eyes at the attempt at deflection. Unfortunately, he didn't really know anything about the kitten or where it had come from, so he couldn't just make a guess. "No reason. It's just that I saw a kitten in your office during my dream. The one where you and Tobias fought to the death," he clarified.

The relaxation in Hannibal's shoulders was miniscule, but noticeable to Will who was watching the psychiatrist with sharp eyes. Hannibal slowly walked back over to Will, and held the glass out to his right hand. Since that hand was occupied by the kitten, Will reached up to grab the glass with his left. Hannibal clearly made note of the strange action, but he didn't say anything about it, just nodded towards the chairs. "Why don't we both sit down to talk about what's on your mind. It must be more than just a dream that's brought you all the way to me twice in one day."

Will brought his right arm closer to him in a protective gesture towards the kitten, even though he knew that Hannibal couldn't even see the animal that was being protected. He wanted to just leave, but it would definitely look weird to do so when he hadn't even taken a sip of his wine yet.

Will sat down, but he felt wary, like he had to be on his guard even if he wasn't entirely sure why. "I'm really sorry for just barging in here like this. I don't know what I was thinking."

Hannibal hummed under his breath, and then took a slow swallow from his glass before speaking. "It is quite remarkable what the human mind can dream up. And for someone with your imagination, I'm sure that your dreams must be even more fascinating than most."

Even after seeing Hannibal take a drink, he didn't feel comfortable drinking from the glass he'd been handed, so Will just held onto it awkwardly, while also trying to hide the way he was petting the kitten where it had settled onto his lap. "I have more nightmares than I do dreams. But either way, I'm not sure I'd call it all that amazing for me to dream about a cat of all things."

"Perhaps not. But do you not find it intriguing that in the midst of a dream heavily saturated with violence between a friend and a stranger, you were able to focus enough on other details to think up an animal?"

Will wasn't really sure where this conversation was going, and he hated feeling lost. So he decided to abruptly change the subject. "I'm sorry for your loss. I don't know if you've heard or not, but Franklyn, your patient, was found dead earlier today."

The look of surprise on Hannibal's face came just a fraction of a second too late for it to feel authentic, and Will scooted forward so that he was sitting on the edge of his seat, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. "How terrible."

Will nodded in agreement. Even if Franklyn wasn't the most interesting person, he didn't deserve to be brutally butchered like that. "Yeah. For some reason, his killer left behind a scene about that old video game, Pac-Man." There, just a slight twitch of Hannibal's jaw. He was displeased. Will fought to keep himself from narrowing his eyes. He hurried on before Hannibal could try and say anything to subtly lead Will away from the conclusion that the crime scene had anything to do with Pac-Man. "Such bizarre things always happening in this world, huh? I've been thinking. Tobias Budge killed the cello man from the orchestra. And then someone else killed him. What if it was Franklyn? Tobias kills an innocent man, Franklyn kills Tobias, and then someone else kills Franklyn. It could all be a long line in some kind of murder cult." Will knew that he was completely talking out of his ass, making up each word as he went along. He also knew that Hannibal seemed more and more offended the longer Will spoke about his 'theory'.

"A murder cult sounds rather fictional, does it not?"

And there he was, trying to convince Will to look elsewhere. It seemed insane to even consider it, and at the same time, didn't seem insane at all. There was no evidence to support this, and Will didn't understand anything about the kitten on his lap, but he felt like he had to ask. "Let's be honest with each other, Hannibal." He made sure to put extra emphasis on the other man's name. "Did you kill Tobias Budge and Franklyn Froideveaux?" Then he held up the kitten. "And if you did, then can you please explain what is up with this?"

Hannibal's eyes flicked to Will's hand, which would appear empty to him, and then back up to meet Will's eyes. "You don't sound very upset for someone accusing a friend of two murders."

"And you don't sound very upset for someone being accused of murder by a friend. I said that we should be honest with each other, Hannibal. I don't know what you would have…" he trailed off and furrowed his eyebrows as he thought about everything he knew. Tobias had been missing his liver, and with the way Franklyn's body had been brutalized, it was quite possible that he was missing something as well. "Holy shit. Hannibal, are you the Chesapeake Ripper?" He would have jumped to his feet as soon as the revelation struck him, but he didn't want the poor kitten to tumble to the ground the way his glass had earlier. Maybe it was for the best anyways. No sudden movements around the potential serial killer. He closed his eyes as he got lost in his thoughts. "It makes sense," he whispered, mainly to himself. "You match the profile. Older man, part of upper society, surgical training. You live in a big, empty house where there would be plenty of space to hide anything you wouldn't want found. God, how did no one ever see this sooner?"

He opened his eyes to find Hannibal right in front of him, holding one of the scalpels that he normally used to sharpen his sketching pencils. Will dropped the wine glass and threw himself aside, making sure to brace the kitten with his body as he hit the ground so that it wouldn't get squished. He could hear the sound of shattering glass as the wine hit the ground, but Will didn't bother to pay much attention to that.

There was no time to catch his bearings. While he was still on the ground, Will shoved the kitten aside, and hoped that it would have enough common sense to not get in the middle of the fight. "What's the deal with the cat?"

Hannibal didn't answer as he swiped his blade towards Will, who rolled aside quickly enough that he only got a small nick on the side of his neck. It still stung, but it only increased the amount of adrenaline pumping through him at the moment. Will looked desperately around the office as he darted away from Hannibal, trying to figure out what could be used as a weapon. Maybe that stag figure that Will's eyes often strayed towards during their sessions, though it looked like it would be pretty heavy. It was a damn shame that Will didn't have his gun on him at the moment. He felt like a total moron for not bringing it in with him when he'd specifically come to confront Hannibal about potentially being a killer.

As he rushed around, continuing to dodge Hannibal's attacks, and not even trying to fight back at the moment, Hannibal finally spoke. "Franklyn's cat. I've certainly seen enough pictures by now to know what it looks like. He was very upset when it died two weeks ago."

"What happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?" Will breathed out.

Instead of answering, Hannibal asked a question of his own. "Why did you ask me about the cat?"

Will could understand the confusion. He knew that home invasions weren't generally the Ripper's style, so in retrospect, it would seem odd to ask about a victim's pet. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Will got out as he scrambled towards the ladder to the library.

"You'll find that I have a pretty open mind," Hannibal said just before grunting with excursion. He reached out and managed to get a pretty deep slice into Will's arm. The pain made Will pause for just a second, which was long enough for Hannibal to reach out and grab him by a handful of his hair, and slam his head forward into one of the wooden ladder rungs. The blow was painful, and made Will's head spin.

Hannibal pulled Will's head back, and then slammed it into the ladder again. "The cat's dead," Will choked out as he squeezed his eyes shut to try and ignore the way that the entire room was spinning around him. "The cat's dead, but it's right over there," he gestured blindly behind himself.

He braced himself for his head to be slammed again, which would surely knock him unconscious, if it didn't directly kill him. But the blow didn't come. It didn't mean Will felt okay with opening his eyes yet, though. Instead, he just waited breathlessly for whatever would happen next. "Are you saying that you can see the cat's ghost?" It was the first time Will had heard Hannibal sound a bit uncertain about what was going on.

Of course it sounded like something completely made up, but if Will was going to die anyways, he may as well be honest. "Basically," he said through clenched teeth. "I can physically interact with them, though. No one else can that I know of. I have an entire house of them. The cat was in your office, I don't know why."

Hannibal pulled Will's head back far enough that it made his neck ache, and made the small cut there bleed sluggishly as the skin in that spot was torn further. "You don't sound as though you're lying."

"I'm not. What would be the point in lying about something like this? I've been this way my entire life, I don't know why."

Hannibal's grip on Will's hair loosened just a bit, but Will felt too tired and nauseous to try and escape at the moment. "Does anyone else know?"

It took Will a moment to process that question, and he was almost certain that he had a concussion. "Yeah," he finally managed to respond. He didn't offer any further details though, not wanting to put Alana anywhere on Hannibal's radar if it was at all avoidable. "Just one person," he added as an afterthought.

There was a long pause as Hannibal thought over everything Will had said. And then, a moment later, Will's head was slammed forward again.

,,,

Will wasn't expecting to ever wake up again, so he definitely considered it a positive sign that he was. And he was pretty sure that this wasn't just some kind of afterlife, because he felt sore all over, and his head was pounding, and his felt like he was going to vomit. He wasn't a very religious man, but he wanted to believe that life after death, if it existed, wouldn't feel anything like this.

Since he had determined that he was (most likely) still alive, Will began to take a mental inventory of his body. His arm and head hurt the most, though when he finally opened his eyes and glanced down, he could see that there was a clean bandage wrapped around his arm. He was also shirtless, and pantless, and tucked beneath a cozy blanket. What the hell?

Will slowly moved into a sitting position, though it made his stomach spin in loops and his head felt dizzy on top of the intense headache that he had. He looked around the room that he was in, and had absolutely no idea where he was. It was a small space, with nothing in it besides the bed and a single chair next to the bed. The door looked like it was made of some heavy steel that he would have no chance of breaking down even at his full strength.

Obviously this situation was Hannibal's doing, though Will had no idea of what the situation actually was. Why would Hannibal take the risk of locking him up instead of killing him? And not only that, but he'd gone through the effort of trying to heal Will as well. Along with the bandage on his arm, when he reached up he could feel a smaller bandage on his neck, and one wrapped around the top of his head. What was Hannibal playing at here?

As if he could be summoned by thoughts alone, the heavy door slowly swung open, and Hannibal stepped into the room, balancing a tray on one arm that seemed to have a full meal plated on it. "Ah, Will. I'm glad to see that you're awake. I was beginning to get worried about you."

Will wasn't sure if Hannibal was even capable of feeling worried about another human being, but he figured that there was no point in antagonizing the man by saying so. Instead, he decided to try and sate his curiosity. "Why am I still alive?"

Hannibal arched one eyebrow. "You did not attack me," he stated. It didn't seem relevant, but from the way Hannibal said it, it was obvious that he did think it was important. "You clearly came to my office with the intention of accusing me of murder, and you brought no weapon. And even as you figured out more, you did not move to attack me. Our entire fight was one-sided, because all you did is constantly try to run away. Why is that, Will? Is it not part of your training to try and subdue dangerous men?"

Will's head hurt way too much for this kind of conversation, but he knew that he wasn't going to get out of it so easily. And since he did prefer to continue living, he knew that he needed to cooperate with Hannibal, at least until he could figure out how to get away from here to tell Jack about everything that had happened. "I don't know. I guess it's because I thought that we were friends." He would never admit, even upon the most severe of tortures, that he had always felt a strange sort of connection to the Ripper. Different than what he felt with any other killer.

Instead of dwelling on that topic, Hannibal switched to a different one, though Will felt just as uncomfortable talking about this one. "Do you remember what you told me before you fainted?"

Fainted felt like a pretty little word to describe having his head bashed in until he was knocked out, but this was Hannibal's show for the moment. "Yeah," he muttered. As soon as the word was out of his mouth, it occurred to him that he could have lied and said that having his head injured like that had given him some memory loss. Then again, he was the one who had asked Hannibal to be honest, so it was only fair to return the favor. "I wasn't lying," he said softly. "I wasn't trying to-" he wasn't even sure what a lie like that might accomplish in a life or death situation. "I wasn't lying," he repeated.

Hannibal walked closer, and then set the tray down right on Will's lap before sitting down in the chair. Will's legs felt just a bit sore from him hitting the ground multiple times, and banging them against the ladder. But compared to the rest of him, his legs felt just great. "You should eat, Will. It will help you to recover faster."

The food did smell rather delicious. And he didn't know how long he'd be stuck here, or what moods Hannibal might get into, so refusing the opportunity for good food now would be just foolish. Though as he was raising the fork to his lips, he paused. His concussion was making his thoughts come out a little bit slower than normal, but something suddenly stuck him. He didn't put the fork down, but he didn't put it into his mouth either. "What do you take the organs for?" he muttered to himself. "You always throw such grand dinner parties. And someone like you would never want to be considered ordinary, right? Because people are just pigs to you." His stomach twisted into knots as he came to a conclusion that he could never un-realize. He blanched at the thought of what was on the plate in front of him, and of what he'd probably eaten before, at least a couple of times.

Hannibal smiled, and reached over to grab the fork from where Will was still holding it hovering somewhere near his mouth. "You are a clever boy, aren't you?" Then, with Will's hand also still holding the fork, Hannibal leaned over to put the bite of food into his own mouth, and chewed it slowly to make it clear that he was savoring it. Then he leaned back to look at Will. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be making you anything else just yet. I'm sure you'll make the smart decision here."

Will gulped, and knew that he didn't have much choice if he didn't want to starve to death. He was sure Hannibal wouldn't let him get away with only eating the vegetables. And he had eaten those other meals in the past, unknowingly committing one of the greatest taboos, and enjoying it the entire time. He wouldn't be able to forget what he was eating, but he also knew that no one would blame him in this situation because it was the only way for him to survive. Hannibal guided the fork down to the plate, and then back up to Will's mouth. There was a moment of hesitation, and then Will took the bite. It really did taste amazing. Will wished that it tasted like garbage. Then he looked at Hannibal expectantly, hoping that his cooperation here would be enough for his question to be answered. "Why am I still alive?"

Hannibal let go of the fork, apparently trusting Will to continue feeding himself, and he leaned all the way back in his chair. "You are in the unique position of being someone with the capability of understanding almost anyone. Each time you've gotten into the mind of a killer, you know that there is a small piece of them left behind inside of you. Because of that, I can see a lot of potential in you." He stopped and gave Will a pointed look. Will gulped, and then slowly lifted another forkful of food to his lips. As he chewed, Hannibal continued. "Your first instinct was not to fight me, despite the fact that you are capable, and willing, to kill when it is what you would consider to be necessary."

Then he was silent, and Will took a moment to read between the lines. "So what you're basically saying is that you're lonely and you think that I'm the one who can fix that?" Hannibal didn't respond, but the look on his face seemed to be answer enough. "Hannibal, I'm not… I can't be…"

"What, Will? A killer? I believe that Garrett Jacob Hobbs would disagree."

Will couldn't keep the exasperation out of his voice. "That's different. I only killed him to defend a life that he was actively threatening. I don't know how you choose your victims, but I know that it isn't done out of defense."

Hannibal shrugged, as if that explained everything. "I'm sure that we would be able to work out come compromise between us, if you are willing to put in the effort."

Will couldn't refrain from staring at Hannibal in disbelief. The way he was talking made it sound like they were in some kind of relationship. Will wasn't even sure he wanted to classify Hannibal as a friend anymore, all things considered. Before he could stupidly let out anything insulting, he heard a tiny meow, and looked away from Hannibal. There was Franklyn's kitten, perched on the foot of the bed, looking like it was exactly where it belonged.

Hannibal turned his head to follow Will's gaze, but obviously could not spot anything there. "Will? Tell me what you are seeing right now."

Since the truth was already out there, Will couldn't see any point in lying. "It's Franklyn's cat again. It must really like you to follow you around everywhere." He glanced around the room quickly before looking back at Hannibal. "Speaking of, where are we right now, exactly?"

"We are somewhere safe, where we won't be disturbed. I know that you have a lot on your mind at the moment, and I wouldn't want anything to get in the way of that."

Will's mind was already far away from Hannibal at the moment, though. "Why does the cat like you so much?" he muttered to himself. "I've never seen an animal so posthumously attached to someone who isn't their owner. What is it about you, and this kitten, that's so different?" He focused back on Hannibal, who looked strangely intrigued. "What?"

Hannibal shrugged. "You seem very intent on finding cases to solve wherever you go. Is it that you are incapable of turning off that part of your brain, or is there something else going on? Are you simply trying to find something to think about so that you do not have to think about your own situation at the moment?"

Even Will wasn't quite sure what the answer to that was. Of course it would be nice to be able to not focus on the fact that he'd gotten his ass kicked and then been kidnapped by Hannibal, after revealing the biggest secret he had. But he also genuinely wanted to understand why the kitten seemed so close to Hannibal. It was entirely possible that Hannibal had lied about the kitten belonging to Franklyn, but at the moment, Will had no way of confirming anything. It was too bad that he couldn't talk to the dead animals on top of seeing them and petting them. "How did the cat die?"

Hannibal tilted his head to the side. "Franklyn didn't specify. He was too busy crying and leaving dirty tissues lying around. Does it matter?"
"Franklyn was friends with Tobias Burdge," Will powered on, choosing to ignore Hannibal's question. "They must have been insanely close from what Franklyn said during his interview with Jack. We already know that Tobias was the orchestra killer. If he and Tobias were such close friends, maybe it's really possible that he-?"

Hannibal actually scoffed out loud. "Regardless of the fact that you have not known Franklyn for nearly as long as me, surely you must not be able to believe that he could be capable of intentionally harming any living creature."

Will furrowed his eyebrows. "Intentionally…?" he mused to himself. "He said that he'd been feeling concerned about Tobias for a while before the orchestra killing even happened. Is it possible that between stalking you and worrying about his friend he simply neglected to care for his pet? You knew him better than me. Is that a possibility?"

Hannibal sighed, and then nodded towards the tray so that Will would take another bite of food. "He did have the tendency to get rather fixated on one thing at a time. With multiple things taking up his time, it is possible, I suppose."

Will finished swallowing what was in his mouth. "Maybe in a weird way the kitten sees you as some kind of hero. If Franklyn killed it through neglect, and then you killed Franklyn, then it must've looked like justice, and that's why the kitten is as content to stalk you as Franklyn was." He blinked a few times, and ate another quick bite before continuing. "Would you tell me if I sounded completely insane?"
"You've yet to say anything completely insane, Will. You are one of the most complex and unique individuals I have ever had the pleasure of encountering, but you are not out of your mind." He waited until Will ate another couple bites of food, and then plucked up the mostly empty tray as he stood up. "If you need anything, simply shout." Then he actually reached over to pat the top of Will's head before leaving the room, letting the heavy door close gently behind him.

Once Hannibal was gone, Will looked down. He grinned when he saw that Winston had tracked him down, and was looking up at him happily. Will swung his legs out over the side of the bed, and tried to stand up, but it made him far too dizzy, and he quickly sat back down. Winston plodded over, and then positioned himself so that Will could easily rest his hand on the dog's head. There was still hope, and Will couldn't just give up yet. He was going to figure out a way to get away from Hannibal, most likely with the aid of his animals. And he was going to do everything in his power to not think about the way the flavors remaining in his mouth were just so good.