It wasn't until Will saw Hannibal tending to the man in the ambulance that it really hit the profiler that surely the ripper was none other than the doctor himself. What gave him away was how he knew exactly what to do, how quickly he acted, how calmly he did so, and with such ease. Will had said it before; the ripper had to be someone skilled in none other than medicine and surgical knowhow; which fit Dr. Lecter perfectly with him being the highly renowned physician he was. Will thought back to when the signs first began to show, back to when Abigail was bleeding out on the tile floor, Hannibal had remained so calm, his nerves hadn't been shaken like Will's had, his composure seemed to be unchanged by both the sight of blood and the sight of human suffering. Will recalled all of their visits to past crime scenes together and realized Hannibal had always been overly interested in and particularly fascinated by how accurate Will's observations were of each murder as well as Will's personal thoughts of each killer's work as though Hannibal's pride was searching for praise. There was no doubt in Will's mind that he had come to the correct conclusion, it should have been obvious to him much sooner, but he didn't want it to be true; all of this went through his head as he watched the doctor work quickly and efficiently. After a few minutes he came to and realized Hannibal was staring right back at him cautiously with what looked, just slightly, like panic and what also, to Will's wonderment, looked like regret.

When Will arrived home later that night he went straight to bed but he was unable to sleep, he had to figure out Hannibal's motives and he would do so through his unique form of profiling, by opening himself up to the target person's way of thinking…he had to, figuratively, become Hannibal. Closing his eyes he was met with darkness only for it to be broken suddenly a second later by the rhythmic swinging back and forth of the mind altering pendulum that slowly, as always, began to change Will's state of being and understanding to that of Hannibal Lecter's.

I grew up fascinated by the human body, mainly how it worked on the inside. I became a surgeon. After I incompetently let a patient die on the operating table I decided to move on to a less risky occupation, psychology; the human mind was just as fascinating. Somewhere along the way I had picked up the habit of eating human flesh, I had to make sure no one found out. My profession was the perfect cover; no one would suspect a well-respected doctor. I got close to the FBI, I worked with them, I helped them; my secret is safe. This is my…

I am a profiler, I can sympathize with any mind no matter how dark and twisted. I work for the FBI because I have an amazing aptitude for what I do, and also because it gives my life reason; if I didn't have this job maybe I would truly go insane. Unexpectedly Doctor Lecter came into the picture. I never wanted anyone to examine me as closely as he had but eventually I realized that through him I felt less alone, I had someone besides myself to talk to. It seemed as if he sympathized with me just as much as I sympathized with the killers, it was like he was there for me…not Jack, not himself, but for me. I always wanted to stay with him after our sessions…I want to stay, I want him to stay. I want us to be together; us together, as colleagues, as friends…as lovers. We're so good together, so compatible.

This is my design.

At some point within his musings as the doctor his state of mind had shifted back to his own, he had no doubt fallen asleep. Within the dream state his subconscious had brought to his attention how he really felt about Lecter and how much he truly needed him, he couldn't turn him in. He knew it was wrong to let a criminal, dare he say it, mastermind continue pretending that he was working with the FBI for the benefit of protecting citizens rather than for his own protection but Will convinced himself in that moment, in order to ease his feeling of guilt, that surely the doctor must at least care somewhat for his patients…and he wanted to think that Hannibal cared about him as well, possibly even beyond the amount of care he might have for anyone, or anything, else. The fact was that Will cared about Hannibal unconditionally, and with this on his mind he fell asleep.

The next evening Will stood outside Lecter's office door; he was already five minutes late for their session but he couldn't bring himself to open the door, he didn't know what to do now that he knew what Hannibal was, he didn't know how to proceed. Should he confront the man or should he act as though he never found out? He could tell he wasn't alright, he couldn't move, he was paralyzed, his consciousness was snapping, life no longer felt real; Lecter was his stability and with that shattered so was he. Complete hopelessness and panic consumed him, Hannibal was the one who had caused it but he knew that Hannibal was the only one who could sedate it; his life had become a horrible paradox.

Suddenly Lecter opened his door to find a blank faced Will standing right in front of him looking like he was going to collapse at any second. Instinctively he reached out an arm to steady the profiler, "Will…are you alright?"

Will shook his head having difficulty speaking; he swallowed and took a deep breath. "I…need to sit down. I don't feel well," he informed quietly.

"Of course," he led Will to one of the chairs and went back to close the door. "We don't need to discuss anything today, you can rest." He walked over to the chair opposite of Will and sat down, "I'll be right here if there's anything you want to say."

Will looked at Hannibal wearily, "Are you going to stare at me the whole time? Don't you have something important you could be doing?"

Hannibal gave a light smile, his hands folded and his legs crossed, "As long as you're in my office you are my only concern."

Exasperated, Will rubbed his hands over his face. Dropping his hands he stared back at Lecter for a couple of seconds before letting his eyes close and his head fall back. He could have easily fallen asleep, just let everything go and drift off; he wondered how he could still feel so comfortable, safe even, around Hannibal now that he knew he was a killer and a cannibal, maybe he was more messed up than he originally thought. Wanting to talk about the situation he came up with a way to do it subtly. Shifting in his seat he looked past Hannibal, "I had a dream; it was about someone I care for."

"Alana?"

Will sighed, would it be too obvious if he said no? "Not Alana."

Hannibal raised his eyebrows seeming surprised, but only briefly. "In this dream, what occurred? Was this person like him or herself or was he or she different in some way?"

"The dream was altogether disturbing." And the fact that it wasn't a dream made it even more so; that's if it really wasn't one; the battle to keep hold of reality was quickly becoming harder. What if he was dreaming right now? Sometimes he couldn't tell.

"How was this dream unlike others that you've had?"

"It felt real," he stated simply.

Hannibal's eyes narrowed, "Are you sure it was a dream?"

Will shot Lecter an aggravated look, he was making this difficult. Ignoring the question he pushed on, "The person proved to not be as trustworthy as I thought that person was, yet I still felt a strong attachment to this person."

"How does this reflect your waking moments?" He could make his own conclusions but he asked for means of conversation.

Will reluctantly thought about this. "I'm unable to rely on myself, I feel uncomfortable with my decisions; I can't lead anyone, let alone myself…but I can't trust anyone either…not even myself."

"So you think this person can guide you?" he questioned.

"No, just hold me together."

There was silence.

Will couldn't help but to notice the look of pain and affliction on the doctor's face. What was he feeling? Could he even feel? He knew he couldn't fool Hannibal for long; it must be dawning on him. Will's heart began to beat faster and his vision started to blur, panic was setting in once again, but he had to keep calm and deal with this.

Hannibal broke the silence, "What did this person do to lose your trust?"

"Lied."

Something in Hannibal's eyes showed that he was stung by that one word but he didn't flinch, or even move for that matter. With his gaze downcast Hannibal posed the question, "How much do you care about this person?"

"More than anything in the world," he says flatly, "despite the fact that what he does is ugly."

The doctor's head shot up at Will's confession; his eyes pierced Will, setting him on fire. "I've told you many times that I care deeply for you Will," he licked his lips seeming unsure.

Will's heart pounded and he could feel himself trembling. "I…need you," he breathed out.

Hannibal's breathing visibly hitched at hearing those words and he shifted in his seat obviously flustered. "I need you as well…"

Will felt a heat grow inside him as the reply sunk in, Lecter needed him? "This…attraction I feel for you, it's been growing constantly since I've met you; I can't seem to place the reason, all I know is that it's there and there's no getting rid of it."

"I've tried to refrain from being so interested in you but eventually I began to want you, to want to feel you, to taste you…to explore you."

Both men were painfully aroused. Will was unable to stay still in his seat, the need to make any kind of contact with Hannibal was overbearing; it was torture. Before he could stop it a long, whimpering moan left him as he felt himself grow harder in anticipation, looking down he noticed there was already a wet spot on the front of his jeans. He closed his eyes and his head fell back as his fingernails dug into the leather arms of the chair, he groaned as he absentmindedly bucked his hips forward. Looking over at Hannibal he had never seen a more intense expression on the man's face, and he could see a vivid outline of his strained erection; that alone almost sent him over the edge, knowing that Hannibal wanted him just as much.

Hannibal leaned forward and grabbed Will by the arm pulling him off the chair and to him; Will obliged, shaking uncontrollably. Will now straddled Lecter holding his arms tightly around the doctor's neck as he lowered himself down and felt the other man's erection pressing into him; Hannibal grunted, "Ugh…" he wrapped his arms around Will's torso, pulling at the fabric of his shirt, "Will…" his breath was harsh and shallow. Will held his head right next to Lecter's, facing down, as he ground his erection into the other man's; he was moaning and crying, close to tears, from the pleasure, "Oh god…oh…" They were both clutching onto the other and jerking into one another, close to their release, and making passionate exclamations. They were so close. Will sought out Hannibal's mouth and tried to catch it as he moved up and down on the man's lap, finally he captured Lecter's lips in his and quickly inserted his tongue. Moving with each other like this they came together, Will screaming and Hannibal growling in ecstasy; neither man had ever felt anything so intense or pleasurable.

"Don't…" Will began but needed to catch his breath, "Don't ever leave me."

Hannibal ran his fingers through Will's hair and held him close, "Jamais."