Prologue
A man in possession of a specific skillset is duty-bound to apply those skills as he sees fit in order to make the world a better place. The world being as imperfect as it is, required one to take such duties seriously. There is no room for error.
Dr Hannibal Lecter is one such duty-bound man.
In this world, there are givers and there are takers; there are those who are possessed and those who possess; there is prey and there are predators.
Dr Hannibal Lecter is the latter in all examples of the above.
Defined and absolute as he is, even so, he takes nothing for granted. To do such, would be an insult to the beautiful gift of metamorphosis that is life in its purest form, form defined and shaped by evolution. Evolution within a single lifespan. Of course, not everyone is equipped with the necessary insights to capitalise on this gift. Hannibal had been basking for some time in the perfection of his transformation, embracing, extracting and redefining life, transmuting each experience into a higher plane of existence.
But…
To be presented with the opportunity to observe his own experience with objective eyes after the fact was an even rarer gift.
That gift arrived in his life in the incomplete, yet to be perfected form, of Will Graham.
The array of the senses are an experience unique to the individual. Following distinctive neural pathways, those parts of our brain exposed to sensory infiltration, can reignite memories, fuel need, heighten desire or enhance distain. Most people utilise their senses within a very well and narrowly-defined spectrum. Whether this is because they lack awareness of these senses, or they subconsciously choose not to utilise them to the best of their ability for fear of becoming overwhelmed by the induced responses, is a matter for debate.
Hannibal Lecter, however, harbours no such fears. His senses operate well outside such defined spectrums, willingly exploring the infra and ultra qualities they have to offer, to one of a mind more than equipped to deal with the potential onslaught. Furthermore, he could translate the information gleaned into a thoroughly useful set of parameters and use said derived parameters to apply a method that would provide the desired result.
It had taken all his skills in that area, a deal of patience, a renewed understanding of self and a brief return to his pre-metamorphic self in order to successfully penetrate the psyche of Will Graham, with little or no sacrifice of his purity of self. It was simply the inevitable result of a tried and tested methodology. One might consider it quite an achievement. But Hannibal was not one for pride. Pride was a weakness, and weakness was for the foolish and the dead.
What Hannibal Lecter had not factored into his methodology, however, was the possible outcome of falling in love with the object of his observational experiment.
He recognised quite early in their relationship, that someone like Will could easily corrupt the singular clarity with which he treated his acquaintances, his patients, his sustenance. He prepared for this.
He recognised the vulnerability in Will that might one time in the future, remind Hannibal that he was hungry for more than the sustenance of mind that Will was so capable of providing. He prepared for this also.
What he had not prepared for - an oversight for which he would severely chide himself later - was the truly dark nature of Will's inherent empathy and how it dangerously infiltrated his own darkness. The ebb and flow between them, while hastening Will's metamorphosis was simultaneously, nudging from their post-metamorphic slumber, parts of Hannibal he had long since laid to rest.
It was thrilling. He had only felt so alive in another human's company when he was bringing that life to its end.
So now, two years after their first fateful meeting, Hannibal finds himself standing leaning into the welcoming embrace of Will Graham, who is resting his body against the desk in the Doctor's opulent office, both men wondering if the moment was real or it was some self-induced hallucination that they employed on occasion to escape the mundanity of a world designed to serve the purpose of those who know they belong somewhere else…
"God…"
Hannibal felt a mild warmth coil in the base of his spine and permitted the briefest of smiles to ghost across the lips that hovered threateningly over Will's throat. He may not be one for the indulging of such frivolous thought but Hannibal considered the sound of his name in worship drifting from Will Graham's lips must elicit a similar response in a deaf man hearing music for the first time.
He planned on this moment being a first of many...
