Will had not wanted to come out of his retirement. He had not wanted to leave his small house, little more than a shack, in Louisiana. Nor had he wanted to leave his dogs, the ones he had managed to reclaim after his ex-wife had given them away as he had lain in a hospital half-dead. But Jack had come to him once again in person. If it had been with a file of another lunatic, another Dolarhyde, Will would have liked to think he would have said no, but the picture Jack had laid on Will's knee was a face Will hadn't seen since Tennessee many years ago. The man in the picture was smiling, looking almost courtly in his expensive suit as he waved down to the camera. Below him dangling from a balcony was a corpse hung by the neck, intestines trailing down. Will had touched the long scar that looped around his own belly.

"Where?" His voice had been hoarse. He had pleaded in his mind for Jack not to ask what Will knew for certain he would ask.

"Italy. Florence. He's back, Will. I hate to ask you-"

"Then don't. I'm done with it. With him. Don't you dare-"

"You caught him, Will. You were the one to catch him the first time."

"After he killed me, Jack!"

Jack's eyes had fallen to the old wound Will clutched and then rose to look at the scar that crossed Will's cheek; the second time Hannibal had almost killed him.

"I wouldn't ask if there was any other way."

Will had closed his eyes, defeated.

Storming out of the FBI headquarters, Will rounded on Jack. "Thanks for throwing me to the fucking wolves!"

"I tried, Will. Verger has friends in very high places."

"He has him, Jack. I know it! He has Lecter."

"Go over it again with me. Are you sure it was Lecter you saw being kidnapped, being dragged into that van?"

Will shook his head in frustration rather than in denial. "Even if I hadn't had seen him, I would have known. There was a picnic basket dropped by my car. It was filled with the stuff…the stuff I used to like, that he used to make for me when I was…upset."

The papers had not been kind with the FBI at Lecter's reappearance after years of silence. Nor had the Tattler forgotten that Will had been the one responsible in the death of one of their star reporters. In the aftermath of the paper's abuse, Lecter had written several letters, all untraceable, to Will via Quantico. No one could tell if they were meant to be mocking or comforting. Someone had leaked them to the Tattler though and the Tattler had slammed Will hard for them.

"He even put some fucking dog food in there."

Jack went on gently, "But you didn't see the man, not clearly."

"I'd know him anywhere." Will rubbed his eyes, tired. Of fucking Lecter, of Jack, of that slime ball Krendler who seemed to have it in for Will from the get go…

"Will, so what if it was?"

"What?" Will looked up, not sure if he had heard right.

"So what if it was Lecter, if Mason does have him?"

"So what? He'll kill him! He'll torture him before he kills him."

"And again, what does it matter?" Will had never seen Jack look so weary. "Maybe for once it's best for the monsters to battle the monsters."

"Jack, you asked me here. You asked me to find Lecter."

"And you did. And soon he won't be hurting anyone ever again. Perhaps this is how it should end. This is how we finally get our peace."

"I took a vow to serve and protect. That's not just for the innocent."

Jack snorted. "You took that vow a lifetime ago and then you left it behind to teach. That's not you anymore. Hell, that won't be me anymore soon either. I put in for my retirement. Should have done it after Bella…passed, but…" He shrugged and wouldn't meet Will's eyes.

"Jack, call a search of the Verger estate. Please."

"Do you know what kind of favors I'd have to call in?"

"Please!"

"Ok. Suppose you'll want to be there?"

Verger had only been too pleased to throw his doors open for them to search the many rooms of his home. There was neither hide nor hair of Hannibal Lecter. There was a smirking Krendler with a restraint order against Will Graham and many reports of Will's supposed harassment of Verger over the weeks he had joined the investigation. Will's face burned with humiliation, especially when Jack did not say one word in his defense.

"Let it lie," Jack mumbled, squeezing Will's shoulder as they walked back to their cars.

Will mumbled something that seemed to be in agreement and sat in his car, watching Jack pull away in his. He started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. When he entered the interstate he remembered the map he had seen of the Verger estate, remembered an old service road that entered the woods behind the mansion. He pulled over onto the shoulder and drummed his fingers on the wheel.

There was an old story, wasn't there? Of a girl that had to choose between a path of needles or a path of thorns? Staying on the interstate would let a madman finally be punished for his deeds even if it damned Will in the process. Pulling off at the next exit and trying to find the service road though…He was sure no one would thank him for saving Lecter's life, least of all himself, and if he were caught again on the Verger estate he might be joining Lecter in a cell.

He growled and slammed his foot on the gas, pulling hard into the turn for the exit. Thorns or needles, which one was this? Did it even matter in the end?

Hannibal allowed himself to be a bit chagrined that of all the worthy opponents that could have gloriously ended his life, his end was most likely to come at the hand of Mason Verger who could think of nothing more imaginative than having him be eaten by swine. He sighed, startling the Sicilians who were checking his restraints. "Are we boring you, Dr. Lecter?" the one in charge asked him.

Hannibal forced himself to smile. "Oh, not at all. I was only thinking on how I ended your brother's life. A pity he died so fast and so ignobly. Loosening his bowels as he did when my knife-"

The Sicilian howled and picked up the cattle prod and thrust it against Hannibal's right eye. The pain was rather excruciating. The other man, the big one's remaining brother, pulled him off, quickly soothing that it was part of Hannibal's plan to enrage them into killing him early. How droll that one of them was smarter than he appeared.

Hannibal watched from one good eye as the brothers walked away, heads low, talking fast and dreaming of money. He closed his eye and opened it in his memory palace.

"I never thought of you as one to commit suicide, Hannibal."

He shuddered, he could not help himself. "I miss your voice, Will."

"You tell me that every time you see me, which is at least once a day." Will stepped from the shadows, bare feet padding over the marble floor to where Hannibal stood, rooted to the spot, always enthralled.

"I do miss you though, Will. More than you will ever know."

A cool hand pressed itself over Hannibal's bruised eye and the pain was soothed. He leaned into the touch of those slender fingers, murmured praise in a tongue he hadn't used in years.

"You shouldn't have provoked them like that," Will scolded.

Hannibal laughed and opened his eye to look at his Will, only his in this palace of his mind. He was impossibly beautiful here and Hannibal wondered yet again if his mind had made him lovelier than his earthly counterpart with every year that had passed without their meeting. "Will you stay with me? Until the end?"

Will frowned. He looked worried, concerned; expressions that had never marred his face when it came to Hannibal when they had met out in the world. "I will, Hannibal. I'll stay with you."

Hannibal sighed at his given name on those lips, regretted that he had never heard the real Will say those syllables. He had a lot of regrets when it came to the things Will had never said, the things Hannibal had never said in return. "Thank you," he said and opened his eye to the world.

A van was pulling up in front of the enclosure. How nice that Verger was willing to risk the chill night air to watch Hannibal's demise. Should he be flattered? He could still feel the ghost of Will's fingers against his eye and if he turned just so he could catch the ethereal image of his lovely friend. Impossibly lovely, what his mind had tried to capture.

Verger was taunting him and Hannibal threw something cruel at him automatically. He didn't want to take his eye off his angel, didn't want his last sight to be of Verger's ugliness. Verger's pet police officer shouted something, reached up to force Hannibal to look at the wasted body of his former patient. The hand outstretched to him exploded in a shower of blood. Wetness hit Hannibal's cheek and he blinked, Will fading to the memory palace.

"I strongly advise you to put your hands in the air and back away. All of you."

"Will," Hannibal murmured.

"Dr. Lecter."

The policeman reached for the gun on his hip, trusting that Will would either be slower than him or would hesitate to pull the trigger. Will shot him once in the heart and once through the badge he wore at his side.

"You're beautiful." The words left Hannibal's lips without him even aware he uttered them.

Will glanced at him and then dismissed him, dismissed the van squealing its tires to return to the mansion as well. He focused his attention on the two remaining Sicilians. He tossed them two pairs of handcuffs. "Down on the ground and cuff yourselves wrist to the other's ankle." When they did nothing but stare at him, he huffed, his calm breaking, hands holding his gun beginning to shake slightly.

Hannibal helpfully translated the orders into Italian and after a long pause the two men complied. "Thank you." It was grudgingly said as Will walked over to hastily disarm the men. Holstering his gun he walked over to Hannibal, pulling out a hunting knife from his belt. He started to cut through the restraints on Hannibal's right wrist. Hannibal could not stop himself from leaning into him and smelling: sweat, gun smoke, the aftershave Hannibal had introduced him to years ago. He grinned and knew he must look comical, like a schoolboy with his first crush.

"Dr. Lecter, please stop smelling me."

"My apologies."

"What happened to your eye?"

"I unwisely provoked my captors. If you give me the knife this would go a lot faster. I can see it makes you nervous to have your back to them."

Will hesitated, then handed him the knife handle first. He immediately pulled his gun out and stepped back. "Once you're free, you will walk in front of me. There is a path through the woods to an old service road. That's where I left my car. Once at my car-"

Hannibal interrupted the carefully planned speech. "Did you subdue the other man on your way in?"

Will blinked. "What other man?"

"Oh dear. There were three of the Italian brutes, my good Will."

Doubt flashed across Will's eyes. Hannibal could almost read the thoughts in his sweet, troubled little mind: Trap? Truth? And bless his heart, he trusted Hannibal still. He stepped around Hannibal as the man bent to untie his feet and swept the gun around the enclosure. A retort of gunfire from the second story of the open barn. It missed, kicking up dirt beside Will's foot. A tranq dart, Hannibal noted as he stepped off the lift. He bent to retrieve it.

Now knowing where the man was hidden, Will returned fire at the barn. A muffled cry of pain met his last bullet and then the click of an empty clip. "Damn it." Will released the clip letting it fall to the ground, fished for a new one in his jacket pocket, so intent on the unseen enemy he forgot the known one behind him.

Hannibal wrapped an arm around Will, crushing his body against his. The heat was heady, as was the small sound Will made when Hannibal jabbed the tranq dart into his neck. "Sleep now, Will. We've won." Will sagged in his arms and Hannibal let his weight carry them to the ground. He knelt over Will, pressing their foreheads together, admiring how even now Will fought to stay awake.

"You've won," Will spat out, before the dart's poison took him over.

"So I have." Hannibal kissed each fluttering eyelid, the scar on his left cheek, and then stood up, Will in his arms almost weightless. "You still are not eating right, my dear. I'll fix that." He walked past the Sicilians who had managed to drag themselves to the corpse of the officer. They were going through his pockets, hunting for a key or a weapon, Hannibal no longer cared. They paused when they noticed that Hannibal was walking to the gate, the gate where the pigs were throwing themselves, their hunger palpable. Hannibal rested his hand on the latch and with a polite smile at the two men threw it open. "Bon appetite."

Will opened his eyes to a ceiling he didn't know. He blinked up at it, trying to place it, and then realized he didn't care. He tried to sit up, but the world spun and he fell back into his pillows.

"You're awake. Good."

"Dr. Lecter?"

"In the flesh." Lecter leaned over him and smiled. Well, what passed for a smile for him. It was always little more than a slight tightening at the corners of his lips, a sparkle in the eyes.

"I saved you."

"And I you, dear Will."

"I guess this makes a change from us trying to kill each other."

"Hm. Which do you prefer?"

"Ha ha. Help me up?"

Lecter put a hand under Will's neck and one under his back and pulled him into a seated position. Will would have fallen over again if Lecter hadn't sat beside him and kept an arm around his shoulders. "Did you drug me, Dr. Lecter?"

"Does it really matter?"

"I forgot how annoying you were, answering questions with questions."

"I had forgotten many things about you as well." Was the doctor's voice the slightest bit breathy?

"Such as?"

"How lovely you look with fresh blood on your hands."

Will grimaced, tried to pull away, but Lecter held him firm.

"It still upsets you. To kill."

"You should thank whatever you believe in for that because my dislike for killing was what made me come for you."

"Yes, to save me from Verger's little revenge." Lecter really was too close for comfort, Will could feel his breath against his scarred cheek. "Did it escape your notice that you killed for a killer, Will?"

"Yeah, well. They were bad people."

"Bad people." And I'm not? It hung in the air between them and Will was abashed by it.

He tried to rise but Lecter restrained him. "I did not mean to upset you. I am glad to see you again. I did miss you so." Will laughed at that, the hysteria in it noticeable. "Shush. I think it best if you sleep a bit longer." A prick against his neck. Will slapped at Lecter's hand.

"You son of a-"

"No rudeness, Will. Not from you. Sleep. We have much to discuss in the coming days.

Will woke the second time and realized that his sleep had been dreamless for the first time in years. He stretched in the fine sheets and turned to face the fire. Lecter was watching him from a chair he had pulled close to the fireplace; a book was resting in his lap. "Good evening, Will."

"Good evening, Dr. Lecter." Lecter's face hardened at Will's greeting. "What were you doing? Reading?"

"I tried, but watching you sleep proved more…enthralling."

Will flushed and hoped the firelight hid it. His head felt funny, that silvery, shivery feeling one gets when fevered sometimes. "Did you drug me?"

"You've asked me that before."

"You didn't answer before." Will swung his legs over the edge of the bed and had to pause until the world stopped spinning. "How'd I get here?"

"I brought you here. I found your car. Unfortunately I had to replace it with something a bit more discrete. We are a long way from the Verger estate, Will. We're safe here."

Will hummed and slowly stood up with the help of the bed post. "Now that you have me at your mercy, what do you plan to do with me, Doctor?"

"If I were to say I hadn't put much thought into it?"

"I'd call you a liar." Will took a cautious step forward and then another.

"That's rather rude."

"What are you going to do about it, Doctor? Gobble me up?" Will stumbled and Lecter was on his feet to catch him. Will's nose was pressed into Lecter's chest and it took a moment to realize the doctor wasn't letting him go. He turned his face to the side so he could breathe.

"I must confess that I have thought on how delectable you would taste."

Will shuddered and Lector's arms tightened around him. "I had forgotten how strong you were."

"All the better to catch you with. Instead of asking what I want, what about you? What do you want?"

Will tried to push away, but Lecter only loosened his hold enough for Will to stand on his own. They were still close enough that Will could feel the doctor stir his hair when he leaned forward to smell him. "A bath. I want a bath."

If his request surprised Lecter, he didn't show it. "Then you shall have one. Sit while I fill the tub." He let Will slip into the chair he had relinquished.

"Jesus, I am still wearing the clothes I had on when…How many days have I been here, Doctor?"

"Will, I think we've known each other long enough for you to call me something more intimate."

"Like what, your first name?"

Lecter tilted his head to the side in answer.

Will didn't want to be more intimate with the man that had once tried to gut him. None the less, he couldn't see what it mattered now. Lecter was being polite, but surely there was no way that Will was going to walk away from this after Lecter's amusement had worn away. "Hannibal then."

Hannibal smiled. "Thank you, Will." He turned into the bathroom and soon running water could be heard.

Will had almost dosed off when Lecter returned, a warm hand brushing through his curls. "I think I shall have to help you into the tub and out of it. If that will be permissible?"

"I don't see how I could refuse." Will let himself be helped to his feet, but Lecter stopped them by the fire.

"You'll have to disrobe before your bath." His voice was chiding.

"Surely the bathroom would be the best place for it."

"Let's call this a small exercise." Lecter smiled as if at some private joke. He stepped away from Will and though Will tottered he kept his feet. "Take off your jacket, Will, and throw it on the fire."

Will hesitated, fingers trailing up and down along the zipper. Lecter barely brushed the scar on his cheek with his fingertips. "You won't be needing it anymore, Will. Onto the fire."

Quickly, before he lost his nerve, Will took off the jacket and flung it onto the fire. They watched it burn in silence, the flames devouring the letter last. "Now your shirt. Do I need to help you with the buttons? Your hands are trembling so." But Will managed to unbutton it himself and threw it on the fire to join the ashes of his jacket. The rest of his clothes followed after until he was shivering, naked, before Lecter.

Lecter made a small sound and reached out to touch the scar that curved down and around his belly. Will grabbed his wrist before he could touch him. "What now, Doctor? Is this when you eat me?"

"No, Will. This is when we give you a bath."

It was unnerving to bathe under Lecter's unwavering gaze, but Will managed. He even kept his hand steady enough to shave, using a mirror Lecter fetched for him. He started to rise from the tub and then remembered he had no clothes to change into. He really hoped Lecter didn't mean to keep him here naked as some sort of preventive measure to keep him from escaping. As if reading his thoughts-and being vastly amused by them- Lecter held up a robe. "We'll put this on you when we're done toweling you off."

"I can manage on my-" Will slipped as he tried to rise and fell back into the water. He sulkily allowed Lecter to fish him out and then towel his hair. The robe did feel heavenly against his skin; he did have to admit that.

"I don't think I've ever seen you clean shaven." Lecter rubbed a thumb along his cheekbone. "It almost hurts to look at you."

"Is that a compliment or…"

Lecter laughed, mostly at himself. "It's like looking into a sun."

"Were you always this weird?"

Lecter smacked him hard on the shoulder. "To bed now, Will. There's been enough excitement for today."

"But I'm not tired-" A needle in his arm told him otherwise.

Will quickly lost track of how many days he spent in the lightless room. He became rather fond of baths, the huge tub reminding him of bath time as a child, playing for what seemed hours in the soapy bubbles. Taking the place of his mother was Hannibal though, the good doctor sitting on the edge of the tub with a book open though his eyes never moved along the page. Will wondered if the doctor worried that Will would drown himself, denying the doctor the pleasure of ending his life.

There were more pricks of needles and Will grew to almost not notice them. They helped him not to fear his coming demise and to almost enjoy his captivity. He had forgotten how dryly funny Hannibal's wit was, how much he enjoyed their conversations.

"What do I smell like?" He asked one day, feeling the doctor lean over and scent the back of his neck. "Are you trying to see when I'll be ripe?"

"Don't be crass." Hannibal smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "As to your scent, I don't know if I could describe it." He pursued his lips in thought.

"You must like it the way you keep doing it."

"My good Will, sometimes I think I was given this gift," he gestured at his nose, "just so I would be able to tell you apart from the herd."

"So you're saying whatever I smell like, it's not pork."

"Never that, my dear." Hannibal smiled at him and Will met his eyes before he remembered he didn't like it.

Today must be the day I die, Will thought as he watched Hannibal ponderously pick out an outfit for him. He held up one shirt against Will and then another, muttering to himself in some foreign language all the while. Finally he decided on the shirt and tackled the problem of the matching jacket. Once the outfit was decided upon, he left it on the bed and ordered Will to dress himself.

Will stared at the suit and then at the tie. "Fuck that." If he was going to die tonight, he was going to die comfortable.

When he made his weaving way downstairs Hannibal paused in the act of lighting the candles that adorned a long table. He looked at Will for a long time, forgetting the match he held until the flame kissed his fingers and he dropped it with a hiss.

Will smoothed his hands over his shirt, uncomfortable with the doctor's silence. He had decided to wear a simple black shirt and black trousers. His feet were bare and Hannibal made a small sound deep in his throat when he noticed. "I…" Will didn't know if he was going to defend or explain himself. Hannibal interrupted him before he could figure it out.

"You look fine. Please. Have a seat." He pulled out a chair and when he saw the distress in Will's eyes when he realized he had used the last of this strength to get down the stairs, he offered Will his arm.

"Thanks…Hannibal." Will sat down and tried to pretend he had not heard the doctor purr.

"Dinner will be out shortly. Enjoy the wine." Breath stirred his curls and he wondered if Hannibal had been smelling him again to be so close.

The wine was sweet and undoubtedly drugged, but it made Will feel shimmery inside so he kept drinking. Better to die buzzed, but the thought was too dark to hold for long so he let it go. The house was lovely, though the prevalent swan porn was a tad confusing. He wondered if he should ask Hannibal about it or if he was better off not knowing.

Hannibal returned with plates filled with some sort of appetizer. He explained it all with a flourish, but Will didn't try to remember the foreign words, just enjoyed how they sounded rolled off the doctor's tongue.

Will picked up a fork and speared a sliver of meat with sauce on it. He lifted it up to his lips and then hesitated. There was a reason he shouldn't be eating this, but damned if he could recall… He felt Hannibal's dark eyes on him and quickly took a bite. It melted on his tongue. Hannibal released a breath that Will hadn't known he'd been holding. "It's delicious."

Hannibal's eyes shimmered in the candle light, looking almost like a sheen of tears. "Thank you. You have no idea what it means to me." He stood from the table, almost unbalancing his chair. "I will see to the entrée, please enjoy the rest."

Bemused, Will did as told.

"It looks lovely," Will murmured as Hannibal set the dish in front of him.

"Have more wine," was the doctor's reply.

Will's head was swimming too much as it was, but he took an obliging sip anyways.

"You were married. Are you still?"

Will started at the sudden question and realized that he had almost fallen asleep. "Yeah. I mean I was married. To Molly. I think I mentioned it to you before?" His cheek hurt as he said it and he barely recalled why it should.

"Yes, you did. I am sorry you are no longer married."

"It's all right. I don't miss it as much as I probably should. We didn't leave on good…on good terms. She…" Will rubbed at his eyes, surprised when his hand came away wet.

"Why did she leave?" Hannibal took a sip of wine, looking unconcerned, as if this pain was normal for dinner conversation. Perhaps to him it was.

"I think maybe because I was too ugly or too scary. Maybe she just got sick of me."

Hannibal met his eyes over his glass. "You're not too ugly or too scary. Not to me."

Will laughed. "Well, you're you. Of course I'd be…tame, boring even, to you."

"Never boring, Will. Never that." He leaned forward and brushed a thumb over Will's cheek. "And never ugly. Why, over the years it's faded so much one can barely see it."

"You called me ugly. You wrote it while I was…I was in the hospital after you set that…that…man on me."

Hannibal sighed. "I was hurt, Will. You had hurt my feelings." His eyes fell to the side as if thinking something then met Will's. Will looked away. "I never meant for him to hurt you, you know. When I gave him your address, you were safe and sound in Virginia."

Will looked at him in surprise. "So you meant for him to kill…That's horrible!"

Hannibal smiled and shrugged.

"Is that how I 'hurt' you? By marrying-"

"It hardly matters now, Will. She left you. You're mine again."

Will was flustered and took too big a gulp of wine. The room spun.

"Eat your meal before it grows cold."

Again he paused before putting the food in his mouth. "Is this anyone I know?"

Hannibal hummed, eyes never leaving Will.

Will took a bite. He sighed. "I've missed your cooking."

"I've missed cooking for you."

He took another bite. Some fragment of poem came to him, uttered in his mother's voice. "Slut, to drink the blood and eat the flesh of your grandmother."

He hadn't been aware he'd spoken it out loud until Hannibal asked him what he had said.

"Something from a story, I think. I don't know why I suddenly thought of it."

"I assure you it's not your grandmother, Will."

"Molly left me."

"I know, Will."

"No, she left me. Out there after…after the attack. She forgot about me. I was out there for almost an hour before…before the police Jack had sent found me."

"Will. I know." The sudden relish with which the doctor bit into his roast did not escape Will.

"I…I need to get some air." Will staggered to his feet, his chair falling back and hitting the floor. Will started at the sudden noise, had to grab at the table to keep from falling himself.

"Will, sit down and finish your dinner. I worked so hard to find it."

"I need air," Will mumbled making for the front door he could just see past the curve of the living room wall. He made it as far as the huge fireplace that lit the spacious room, when Hannibal grabbed him around the waist.

"Will, stop crying. Come back and eat your supper."

"I can't stand this. I can't stand this anymore!"

Hannibal spun him around, held him tight enough that Will knew there would be bruises around his waist in the morning. "Just hurry up and kill me," he whispered.

It seemed to surprise Hannibal, judging from the slight widening of his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure. "I am not going to kill you, Will."

"You tried to kill me before." Will pushed him away, tore at his shirt until he could expose his scar.

"I did. I acted…too passionately."

"I hurt you, I suppose."

"You did."

"Did you honestly expect me to go away with you, Hannibal?" The flickering shadows almost hid the small smile that graced the doctor's face at his name.

"I did. And I will admit I acted overly harsh when you spurned me." He touched Will's scar and Will shuddered at how lovingly it was caressed. Hannibal met his eyes. "I will admit that I love that I've marked you. That every time you look in a mirror you think of me." His smile was all teeth.

"What do you want from me?" Will let the ripped fabric go, let it cover him once more.

"What I wanted the first time." Hannibal took a step closer, then another. He slowly gathered Will into his arms and pulled him into an embrace. It calmed Will to feel Hannibal's heart beat against him. A small part of his mind was screaming at him to fight and claw to get away, but the wine was making him so sleepy. The room was spinning around them in lazy circles and Hannibal's fingers were tracing soothing circles along his spine.

Will started as a realization struck him. "You would never forget about me." It wasn't a question.

"Never. Nor would I ever let anyone harm you again."

To be protected, to never be hurt again… Will wondered what it would feel like to feel safe for the first time in his life. "And all I would have to do would be…?"

"Be with me. You don't have to hunt with me, but let me provide for you. Let me feed you." He nudged Will's nose with his own. "Let me love you."

"What does a monster know about love?" Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal as he said it, nuzzled into him like a child seeking comfort.

"I love your eyes," Hannibal whispered, breath hot against Will's face.

"All the better to see you with," Will replied dreamily, leaning into Hannibal's touch as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I can see you, you know. All of you. That dark thing inside of you that's nothing but fur and teeth and hunger."

"I know." Hannibal sounded pleased, the hand at the small of Will's back slid lower.

"Jack warned me. Or was it Alana? About getting too close to the killers, of straying from the path. Or was that from something else?"

He yelped as Hannibal nipped his neck. "Jesus your teeth are sharp!"

"All the better to eat you with." Hannibal growled, snapped at him, but Will didn't flinch, smiled instead and leaned in to be kissed and kissed again. A million kisses while their dinner grew cold. It remained forgotten as Hannibal sunk to his knees and nuzzled Will's shirt aside to mouth at the scar he had claimed him with. Will had the feeling he was forgetting something, forgetting many things, but it was soon pushed aside the moment Hannibal unfastened his pants, pulled them down and then pulled him down to join him on the floor.

Jack took an early retirement in the aftermath of Verger's death at the hands of Hannibal Lecter (or so said Verger's sister, though Jack's gut told him something was off with her story). The sudden disappearance of Will Graham hadn't helped the argument for him to stay the remainder of his five months either.

The Tattler was having a field day, switching between speculations on Will's gruesome death at the hands of Lecter to almost gushing speculations that the two had run off together in a bloody, whirlwind romance. Jack paid the latter little attention and instead wondered which had gotten Will in the end: Verger or Lecter.

He would have to carry that guilt with him for the rest of his life, of not standing up for Will, not joining him when he went back to Verger's alone. That was what surely must have happened: Will had returned to the Verger property to save Hannibal from a cruel fate with the intention of giving him to the equally cruel fate of life imprisonment. Whether Verger's men had killed him or Lecter, freed, had turned on him, Jack couldn't begin to guess.

The red envelope in his mailbox surprised him. He took it out and turned it over and over in his hands, debating. Fuck it. He's wasn't in the bureau anymore and if it concealed a bomb, so much the better. He tore it open with one aggressive rip. Inside was a clipping from a newspaper. Not an English one, Portuguese or Spanish. Jack could understand the word opera, but all the rest was lost on him. What the article was about was irrelevant. The picture that went with the article was what caught and held his attention. A swirl of opera lovers decked out in formal wear, holding glasses of champagne and excitedly waiting for the doors to the grand hall to open. Off to the side, easily missed, were two men in suits. Two men Jack recognized all too easily. They were holding hands. Across the picture in horribly formal and horribly familiar handwriting was written…

Jack snorted, chuckled, and then burst out laughing. He laughed until his stomach hurt and he had to crouch down and lean on his knees. He could almost hear Lecter saying "Check and mate" in that dry, accented voice of his. Well, well played, Doctor. Well played. You broke him; you better take good care of him. He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked long at the flimsy piece of newspaper in his fingers. He tore it up into thin strips and let the wind have it. The last strip bore away Hannibal's handwriting: And they lived happily ever after.

X

This was written for a prompt on the Hannibal Kink Meme which had asked for something fairytale flavored. For those of you are that eagerly awaiting me to finish Strange Geometry, I swear the last chapter will be up by the end of August!