Please note I set this pre-season 2 of Hannibal. Back in the good ol' days when they were going on cases and clocks were Will's biggest problem.

Prologue

Will closed his eyes. Time turned back with the swaying of a pendulum, gold and bright. When he opened them the scene was as it had been approximately fourteen hours ago. The path was clear ahead, moonlight speckled and sparse as it filtered through the overhead leaves. The dirt road before him was dark. An evening breeze cooled the sweat on his hot skin. He was out of breath. He'd been traveling. He didn't know to where.

The soft clattering of metal pulled his attention backwards. There were two men behind him. One had dark hair and big eyes. Strain was visible on his face like he was in some sort of physical pain though no wound was obvious. The other was blond, a bit more stout and heavy set. It was his bag that had made the noise, pans and supplies clinking about where they were strapped to his pack. This one's eyes flickered to Will between looks at his companion and his stumbling feet. He didn't trust their third member. He knew something was off.

"I am leading them." Will said, interpreting his site and situation. "I am the guide but I am not to be trusted. Or at least, Mr. Gamgee doesn't think so." He took a few steps forward, marking out the path the others would follow. "And he couldn't be more right."

The two men following Will crossed into the forest, the canopy of branches and shadows claiming them.

"I will wait until the moment is most opportune. Until I am sure they won't escape. It was foolish for them to put all their hopes in my hands. Not when they have something I want. Something so . . ." He glanced over his shoulder. The first victim, Mr. Baggins, had it around his neck, glinting as it caught the light. " . . . precious."

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, finally reaching a dark clearing. Will stopped dead center and took a deep breath of the sweet night air. It smelled like the forest, like rich soil and clear water. Once the oxygen had filled him up he turned and lunged.

Frodo Baggins went down with a strangled shout. Will punched him square in the jaw as he threw his weight down on him and the two fell together. They wrestled, Will staying on top, hands grasping for Frodo's throat. Fighting back, the smaller man grabbed at his face and tried to put out his eye or scratch his skin. Fingers brushed Will's chapped lips and he opened his mouth. There was a sickening crunch, a high-pitched shriek and the bursting of hot, metallic blood over Will's tongue as Frodo jerked his injured hand away. Will spit the fingers into Frodo's face and his own finally managed to wrap around the smaller man's neck.

Blood ran between his teeth and down the sides of his mouth, painting his throat and splashing onto their clothes. "I've got him right where I want him." The ring on its chain was so close.

Samwise finally managed to get to the two.

"Mr. Gamgee reaches us too little, too late. Mr. Baggins is dead."

Sam readied himself to pull Will from his companion but he didn't have to. Will was ready. He could see Sam coming out of the corner of his eye and launched at him. The two went tumbling over the hard ground, fighting like children with cheap shots and desperation.

"He puts up a good fight. He might have had me . . ."

Will was pinned and Sam began punching him, hitting him with all that he had.

Arms splayed out, reaching for an escape, Will's hand closed around a large rock. "If luck hadn't been on my side." He gripped it tight and slammed it into Samwise's face. The cracking of his skull split the silence of the night and echoed through the stillness.

"Mr. Gamgee is dead." Will pushed the slumped, lifeless body off him and stood. His face was bruised and blood and his whole body ached. This fell away, any physical awareness fell away as his eyes once again fell on Frodo. "I'm coming."

He limped over to the lifeless body and dropped to his knees. "I'm here."

The ring was lying flat on the man's chest, the chain's metal paling in comparison to the gold of it's charm. Will closed his hand around it and ripped the necklace from it's bearer. He sat back on his haunches and held his palm close to himself, to his chest. So protective, he cradled his hard won prize.

"My precious."

"Will?" Jack called from down the forest path. "Will!"

"Right here." The scruffy man sighed, casually emerging from the foliage. "Our killer ran off the path once he had what he came for. I lost his tracks a bit South of the clearing. The rain washed away any traces."

Jack adjusted his hat and fell in step with the other man. "And what exactly did he come for?"

"The ring Mr. Baggins was wearing around his neck."

"A ring?"

"Yes. In all the pictures we've seen Frodo was wearing that necklace. It's gone now. It was obviously important. I just . . . I just don't know how exactly but it meant something to the killer."

"I'll see what we can dig up. Probably won't find much. Seemed like an ordinary enough gold ring."

Will chuckled as the two paused, reaching the yellow tape that marked the edge of their crime scene, their territory. "I'm led to believe our killer would disagree with you."

Jack nodded. "Yes, that much is clear. I'll call you if we find anything.

"Alright then." Will ducked under the tape and started his way across the grass field to his car, the blades shifting in the breeze around him.

"Wait, Will." Jack called. The other man turned. "Is he going to kill again?"

"Maybe." Will shrugged, his eyes wandering. It was a peaceful setting. A mountainside of blossoming green, like a postcard in a gift shop. Even Will's troubled mind found serenity in the aura of this solitary and natural place. He considered coming out here to fish when this was all over. There had to be a river near by.

"Maybe?"

"This was premeditated but only the concept. The killer knew that this was the only way to get what he wanted but he didn't plan every detail. The fighting, the bludgeoning. There's no . . . design. Something pushed him over the edge, called him to action. That's the only thing that'll cause him to kill again."

"So you're saying that he's a loose cannon."

"I'm saying that if anyone or anything were to come between him and that ring, he will do whatever's necessary to remove them. He's not thinking straight, Jack. His need is making him violent and irrational."

"No Chesapeake Ripper."

"That's for sure."

Jack signed and accepted a Styrofoam cup of coffee from one of his subordinates. Blowing on it, he watched the curling steam dissipate into nothing. "All this for a little trinket.

Will slid his hands into his pockets, bracing himself against a stronger gust of wind. Clouds were gathering overhead. There was a storm coming. "Value, much like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder."

Jack just nodded and took a sip of his coffee, looking down the mountain side at the rolling waves of unsettled leaves. He felt and heard the raindrop as it hit the brim of his hat. The next one settled on his cheek. He glanced to his right. Will was gone.

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