Will turns off the lamp standing on the cupboard next to the doorframe. The room is embraced in darkness, the only light coming from the stars outside producing ghostly shadows of Will's dogs. Their barking at the entrance door increases the tension, the anticipation while Will watches, observingly waiting in the darkness holding his shotgun, ready for whatever is coming for him.
Suddenly, the air is filled with glass shards and splintered wood as Randall Tier crashes through the window, clad in his cave bear skeleton suit engineered to complete the perfect predator - this is his design. Will recoils, protecting his eyes from the debris radiating from the origin of the collision, making him drop the rifle. In the blink of an eye he fidgets, freeing himself from temporal petrification. Within reach Will's fishing vest is lying on the floor, Will now reaching for the knife he keeps in a pocket. While the dogs keep barking furiously the fight begins: Randall Tier jumps towards Will in a giant leap, leaving the FBI's special consultant no other choice than to duck out of the way. Will does so by sliding under the predator, driving his knife upwards with full force. He can hear his accelerated heartbeat ringing in his ears, yet he moves with precision making it seem almost calm. He is in his element now though this time it's not just in his head. Anticipating Tier's next move Will rolls sideward, getting out of his opponent's reach. The man-become-beast is struck by the sudden flash of pain but nonetheless determined to finish his job of savaging Will Graham. As he lunges at his victim blood starts dripping on the floor and once more the yet unhurt pray is able to escape. Bone-clad, the attacker crashes into the furniture like a cannonball causing more splinters of wood. Quickly Will grabs Randall and smashes him against the floor while he is still perplex. Bone shatters and creaks with every hit of Will's fists until Randall Tier shifts his position throwing Will through the air. The investigator is sprawled on the floor as the ferocious beast is coming for him.
The world around is constricted to the two bodies rolling over the floor with effort, entangled in a fight man to man, using their hands trying to put an end to each other's life. A sound of blows, screeches, and painful grunts is filling the air, all of a sudden being terminated by a loud crack coming from Randall Tier's neck. Will's face is wild, he is still clenching his teeth from having directed all his strength at his hands and knees that held Randall down. The idle movements meant to free himself from Will's claws have now faded to silence. Finally, Randall Tier has ceased to move averting his eyes while his consciousness dropped into nothingness.
Will, still panting from physical exhaustion lowers himself next to the body, reclining and supporting his upper body with this arms. He is overcome by a feeling of power and satisfaction by having taken the opportunity to go through, to have killed. The cold, diffuse light from outside illuminates the corpse's skin in contrast to the dark wooden floor. Just for a second the image of Hannibal Lecter's face in place of Randall's flickers before Will's eyes. He killed the mercenary sent by Hannibal in a most intimate way using nothing more than his hands. "This is my design", he thinks to himself, lost in thought and pleasant feelings. It seems weird though feeling both hate and attraction towards this man who put Will through so much trouble and unspeakable sorrow, now having sent someone to kill him in return….and yet every time he spent with Hannibal felt familiar, even secure. After all, Hannibal was the one to unleash Will's dark side. He was there when Will felled Garrett Jacob Hobbs with a salve of bullets, when he first experienced this violence and power of terminating the life of someone who deserved punishment for his sins. Hannibal even taught Will to embrace feeling good by doing bad things to bad people.
Holding all that in mind, Will Graham drags Randall Tier's dead body outside, over the veranda towards his car. With a clicking sound it is unlocked and the copse positioned in the trunk atop a plastic sheet Will usually carries with him to store his fishing gear and catch on. Before leaving Will heads back inside looking after his dogs that now have calmed down. Curiously they pat towards their owner, sniffing and wheezing. Although Buster is on his legs again, Will starts cleaning and bandaging his wound, making delicate movements despite his bleeding knuckles and bruises. After having ensured Buster's well-being he checks the water bowl and fills the feeding dish.
The sky is clear and alight with stars and a broad moon, making the air even more frigid as Will is driving through the snowy winter landscape towards Baltimore.
Classical music is coming from the speakers as Hannibal maneuvers his Bentley into his home's driveway. Above the severe stone walls the stars are glimmering in a blueish light, amplified by the completely light-reflecting snow. Hannibal Lecter gracefully crosses his front yard, then ascends the stairs in front of the carved, double winged wooden door. Out of the corner of his eye he notices - Will's car being parked nearby. The doors glide open without a sound after being unlocked and close just as silent, obscuring Hannibal from the outside. Determined he approaches the kitchen after smoothing his coat over a chair. Entering, he directs his eyes onto his dining table to the exact spot where a human body is sprawled - Randall Tier's corpse. The deceased's shape is still partly clad in bone armor and shows signs of a vicious fight. Surrounded by the tasteful furniture and decorations of Hannibal's dining room the ensemble resembles an offering, now being inspected more closely by Hannibal circling the table. Keeping his face almost unreadable, the only detail betraying his composure and revealing how pleased he is are the corners of his mouth which are pointing upwards just ever so slightly, forming an inconspicuous smile. Will Graham took him by surprise, again. Of course this was what he had been working towards but hadn't considered a success so soon. Apparently he calculated correctly, driving Will towards killing and infiltrating the mind of this delicate empath.
Hannibal Lecter discovers a paper note pinned to the chest of the deceased, right below the obviously broken neck. 'Return to Sender' is echoing in Hannibal's mind as he notices a shadow protruding from darkness at the other end of the table. Under the doctor's steady gaze Will Graham approaches the tableau, breaking the silence. "I'd say this makes us even. I sent someone to kill you, you sent someone to kill me. Even-steven". they make eye contact, Hannibal nodding in agreement: "Consider it an act of reciprocity". Will, considering this matter has settled, returns the nod. Being well aware that Hannibal's high walls are crumbling this very moment, he yet wants to tread lightly, adding "Polite society normally puts such taboos on taking a life." Hannibal is now fully indulging in their game of morals, making his point: "Without death, we'd be at a loss. It's the prospect of death that drives us to greatness.", also showing his appreciation. Locking his gaze on the late visitor again, determined to make him state the obvious, to have him pouring out his soul in front of Hannibal, he asks the fundamental question: "Did you kill him with your hands?" Trying to obscure his face in order to protect himself from Hannibal's gaze that is making him feel naked, Will lowers his head, his voice decreased to a whisper: "It was…". He raises his hands, eyeing the bloody, bruised knuckles himself while reliving the fight in his mind "…very intimate". Proud of his achievements, the doctor strides towards Will in swift, elegant steps. Still approaching, he wants to show Will the right path, assuring him in his actions: "It deserves intimacy". Now standing next to Will, he leans in making Will feel the heat radiating from his body as he takes a look himself. "You were Randall Tier's final enemy" are his last words before he gently picks up Will's right hand with his own, steadying it with his left. Almost caressing the other's hand Hannibal thoroughly inspects the wounds.
Will Graham can feel his heartbeat quickening at Hannibal's words and touch, feeling at ease, feeling safe in the doctor's hands.
"Your wounds need cleaning. Bathing them will remove splinters and prevent infection, I'll be right back." With that, Hannibal looks into Will's eyes, turns and leaves the kitchen. Remaining alone in the room, Will decides to take another look at his fresh kill. Slowly making his way around the laid out body he remembers every move and incident leading to the wounds, to his victory, to him being in this place at the very moment. Satisfied he takes a seat at the end of the table, looking down on his achievement. Shortly after, Hannibal returns carrying a white porcelain bowl and a vintage looking first aid kit wrapped in leather. He has discarded his jacket and rolled up his white shirt sleeves showing off his wiry forearms. Without spilling any of the warm water in the bowl he elegantly places it in front of Will who, too is laying down his coat now. "I added Epsom salt to the water. It will have a disinfecting effect and help remove the splinters", Hannibal is explaining as he tenderly submerges Will's hands in the water. Red blood is oozing from the torn flesh, spreading through the water in curly snakes, dissolving into a pink tint. Although Will's knuckles sting, he manages to keep his hands steady, closing his eyes at Hannibal's feather-light touch with a cotton cloth as he starts cleaning the wounds. Lost in thought again, Will opens his eyes staring absently into the room. "Don't go inside, Will. You'll want to retreat, you'll want it as the glint of the rails tempts us when we hear the approaching train", the doctor states, noticing Will's empty stare. He slowly directs his guest's hands out of the bath, drying them caringly before applying salve to the cuts and bruises, rubbing ointment into the open wounds, and starting to gently wrap them into gauze bandages. Will is at his mercy now, in his care and he wants to do his best for him, showing he's there for him, comforting him: "Stay with me" are his words. looking at Will who now turns towards him: "Where else would I go?" "You have everywhere to go. You should be quite pleased. I am." is Hannibal's answer. Will stares at Randall Tier's body that is still lying on the table. "Of course you are", he says. Hannibal asks: "When you killed Randall, did you fantasize you were killing me?" He locks his gaze on Will who after a short hesitation slowly turns his head, making eye contact but letting Hannibal continue: "Most of what we do, most of what we believe, is motivated by death." "I never felt as alive as I did when I was killing him" Will finally admits, his words more of a whisper. Hannibal's face brightens at these words. Daringly he says: "then you owe Randall Tier a debt. How will you repay him?" while still holding Will's bandaged hand in his.
They both look at Radall Tier's corpse. In Will's head all the pieces fall together: "He wanted to transform into an animal. Then this shall be his becoming." Hannibal supportingly places his hand on Will's shoulder, nodding. "What precisely do you have in mind?" he asks his companion.