Disclaimer: I don't own NBC's "Hannibal." Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: Third part of the "Right kind of monster" series. Sequel to "The (right) kind of monster" & "Labascate (but never yield)" I wanted to write a bit of pre-slash Preller where after Beverly was murdered, Hannibal came after Zeller next, only – unexpectedly - he bit off a bit more than he could chew and now the aftermath of that scenario (told in "The (right) kind of monster" is being continued.

Disclaimer: vampires, vampirism, blood drinking, gore, blood, canon appropriate violence, adult language, mild animal traits/behaviors, pre-slash, drama, angst, domesticity, psychological trauma, mild sexual content.

Theomachy

Chapter One

"I heard that when the Ripper knocked the screwdriver out of his hand he just fucking lost it. I mean, who wouldn't really? You think you're going to die, I bet I would take a chunk out of the asshole that had me pinned too."

"But with that kind of damage? I don't know, its weird. Something seems off about it. I don't know why people aren't talking about it…I get that he's one of us, but- That was a lot of blood to swallow in self defense, you know? Look- I'm just saying it's weird, okay?! Stop looking at me like that."

"They say he crawled almost three miles trying to get to the road before he collapsed. Can you imagine? I don't think I could do that after getting as cut up as he did. Twenty-three stitches. The doctors said it could have been much worse, he got off lucky."

"It takes a special brand of person to be able to do that you know? I heard he had to have had his teeth in Lecter's neck for a long time to account for all that blood he puked out. Who does that? Why?"

"I heard the Ripper had a gramophone in the back of his car with a bunch of folding stainless table tables and lab equipment. They think he was going to put Zeller on his own autopsy table. How sick is that? There were like- over a hundred plastic evidence slides too. What do you think he was going to do with those? I mean, I don't want to know, but I kinda do at the same time, you know. Whenever the Ripper was involved it was always one hell of a something."

"If Dr. Lecter hadn't messed up the dose it would have been a whole different story. Like- game over, you know? Zeller wouldn't have been able to fight off the effects in time. What do you think he would have done with him? Ugh. I don't even want to think about it, honestly. The crime scene photos are still giving me nightmares."

"Did you hear about the weird stuff they found in his apartment? Yeah, yeah- I know we aren't supposed to talk about it. But- well, Zeller just didn't strike me as a history buff, you know. There were newspaper clippings dating back over a hundred years, I guess his Great-Grandma liked scrap-booking or something. And some of his furniture were actual antiques. Must have been passed down because hell if you or I could afford that shit on what they pay us."

Whispers followed him in the weeks that followed.

Some awed.

Some disbelieving.

Some better.

Some worse.

The problem with having 'not quite vampire' senses was that he heard all of them.

Officially, he was still on leave. Unofficially, he was bored out of his mind and looking for any excuse to get out of his mostly destroyed apartment - which his insurers were taking their sweet time deciding if they wanted to pay for. Leaving him caught in a strange place, somewhere between rebirth and decay, as he paged through rough sketches of his own renovation ideas versus the glossy pictures on the professional brochure that'd been shoved through the slot the day he'd been allowed back in. Almost like the world was trying to tell him something about the disaster that was currently his life.

Fucking fix it.

He delivered the papers to HR and went looking for Jimmy. Refusing to find it creepy when he shrugged and followed his nose. Something he would've never have allowed before all this. He supposed almost dying had put some things into perspective. It was just ironic that it'd taken Hannibal's blood trickling down his throat to put himself on a less restrictive leash.

There was a joke in there somewhere.

Maybe even a sexual innuendo.

He was sure of it.

Either way, things were different now.

More chaotic, sure.

But also far more centered.

He didn't want to put a label on it, but he knew for sure that the blood was probably the cause. He wasn't sure if it was amount or the desperation behind it - finding himself in a blood-bath gauntlet and coming out on top for once. But for the first time in his life, all the rough edges between nature and normalcy had gone gentle on him. Things he'd clung to so fiercely – control, control, control – had blended. Able to find a happy medium easier than he ever had before. Living like a weight had been taken off his shoulders as he looked his reflection in the eye every morning since and wondered how he'd even been able to breathe at all.

You'd think he'd be more careful, but instead he felt a tier above reckless.

Fuck, he felt capable.

Predatorily settled was the phrase that came immediately to mind.

He caught the smoky tint of Jack's scent wafting from the director's office a couple floors up and headed in the opposite direction. Something in him settling warmly when he traced Jimmy to the secondary lab. Lips quirking up when he picked up the faint sound of the man humming to himself as he worked from clear down the hall.

Christ, he missed this.

"Hey," he called, waiting until Jimmy was in the process of looking up from the slide he was examining so he didn't startle him. Stomach swooping into his belly when the man smiled openly, pleased to see him.

"Hey, back," Jimmy greeted. Automatically glancing at the clock before rubbing his eyes in that way he did when he'd spent too long hunched over a microscope.

"Dinner? My treat?" he offered, hitching his hip against the counter as he watched him cross the room. Puttering around with such a familiar rhythm that it threatened to make him homesick.

"You do know how to woo a working man, don't you?" Jimmy answered with a grin, rocking back on his heels. "Just let me finish this slide and I'll grab my coat."

"Whatcha working on?" he wheedled, eager to get back in the saddle despite the full month of mandatory leave he had to go. Paid leave, but yeah- considering he wasn't allowed to stray far due to interviews, meetings, psych evaluations, follow-up doctor's visits and the occasional deposition, it felt more like house-arrest than a vacation. It was safe to say he was already tired of looking at the holes Hannibal had put in his walls and the mess they'd made of the carpet.

"You, actually. I'm looking at some of the evidence from the crime scene," Jimmy answered nonchalantly. Adding his signature beside a fresh spit of tape sealing the bag of trace evidence. Something that looked suspiciously like a piece of his leather jacket, in fact.

He stiffened. Struggling not to let his emotions show as Jimmy continued talking. Happily oblivious as his stance firmed into something almost anticipatory. Like his flight or fight response was caught in the starting gate and the rest of him was just along for the ride. Waiting to see how the chips fell as Jimmy chattered on with clear interest.

"There was an anomaly in one of the samples the lackies collected so I'm just cross-checking to make sure there was nothing we missed. Honestly though- it's a little weird. You'd love it. There was a hint of a third set of DNA but it was so faint I nearly missed it. Almost like a third person was there. Probably contamination or just someone having been in the area a couple hours before. Nothing that will complicate the case or anything, so don't worry. This is just professional curiosity on my part."

He didn't say anything when Jimmy ordered a tonic water and a wedge of lemon in response to his pint of beer when they got to the pub. Too wrapped up in the fact that he was worried. In about three dozen different ways, actually. But since the truth didn't make for good table conversation, he kept his mouth shut.

Barely.

Things hadn't progressed much between them since that first night. He'd ended up staying over for a few nights. Each time starting in the guest room before inexplicably migrating back to Jimmy's bedroom sometime during the night. Waking up overwarm and pleasantly stale every time Jimmy got up for a piss. Coddling him back under the covers as the man came willingly every time. Not really awake to start with as he shuffled across the carpet with socked feet like a complete and utter heathen. Huffing with clear displeasure when he refused to allow him to hog the entire duvet. Too entitled to at least half of everything that was Jimmy's to fall back into the vague politeness that was usually expected from one's house guests.

But save for a few awkward morning boners and some disgustingly domestic moments half dressed and scrapping over the coffeemaker in the morning, there'd been nothing more to report when it came to actually- well, doing something about it.

The unofficial stalemate they'd been operating under for god knows how long was still firmly in place.

And the truth was, part of him was relieved.

He was chickening out, obviously. But the truth was, it was bit more complicated than that. He was a mess. His life was a mess and worse, he no longer felt like it was okay - if it'd ever been - to hide this part of himself from Jimmy. It felt dishonest. Like he was in danger of starting everything off on the wrong foot. Jimmy was important to him. He didn't want the man to think he didn't trust him, or worse, didn't care about him at all.

But most of all, it felt dangerous. Because at this point he didn't know if he even could. He wanted him too much. Already fielding something sharp and dark that desperately wanted to start stretching out in the back of his mind. Something that turned his dreams lurid and almost violently sexual. Knowing that control would be a moot point if they ever got out of the dug-out sometime in the next half-century.

He wanted Jimmy.

Every part of him did.

Not long ago that realization would've completely crippled him.

Now he figured he was just too far gone properly weigh the repercussions.

A/N: There will be two more chapters to this part of the series, play stay tuned. Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think.

Reference:

- theomachy: war among, or against the Gods.