This will be posted in nine chapters, with a a considerable time gap between the events of each chapter. Enjoy!
Blood, death and darkness.
The scent is strong, intoxicating and Will nearly abandons the illusion of humanity that he maintains- has maintained for over a millennium- as a familiar thirst rises inside him, scalding his throat and sending borrowed blood rushing through his veins.
It is a struggle to keep his fangs sheathed as a warm hand closes around his own cool one, the faint feel of the human doctor's pulse under his skin combining with the heady aroma permeating the air to further test Will. The fact that he fed just yesterday and the girl's blood was still warming him from the inside seems so very insignificant in the face of such temptation.
"Dr Hannibal Lecter. It's a pleasure to meet you." The man tells him with a deceptively friendly smile that hides the monster underneath, not a true one like Will, but something that is utterly unique to the plague that is the human race.
A specific brand of madness.
"Agent William Graham. Will." He replies, voice betraying none of the turmoil inside him. He returns the smile with a smirk of his own as the doctor's hand leaves his. He shoots Jack a look over his shoulder and has to fight down laughter at the look of unadulterated relief on his face. He is so pleased that Will isn't being too difficult about all this and completely unaware that he was enlisting the assistance of someone who is most certainly one of the killers the BAU is so dedicated to hunting.
Will has seen too much in his time to believe in coincidence. So perhaps this meeting is another one of fate's games. She could be quite mischievous at times.
Still, Jack's reaction is understandable given how unenthusiastic and downright hostile Will was about this idea. He still is actually, but the utterly delectable scent emanating from the psychiatrist Dr Lecter has significantly altered his intentions within the span of a few seconds.
He's always been something of a slave to his cravings.
"I'll leave you to it then." Jack announces with a terse smile and disappears out of the waiting room before either of them can even react. He very carefully does not look at Will as he does so.
He shakes his head in mild exasperation.
"Shall we?" Lecter asks him, gesturing towards the office.
Will acquiesces with a curt nod and they head inside. He subtly draws in a deep breath as he passes by the doctor, savoring it properly now that the first shock of his thirst has passed. This time, he's able to identify the reason behind the extraordinary appeal of the scent and is genuinely surprised, something that doesn't happen often.
Hannibal Lecter is not the first cannibal he's encountered. But the last one stumbled across Will several centuries ago and though his taste was quite remarkable, Will does not remember his scent being this good, to the point of being overwhelming.
He stops breathing altogether for a while lest he lose his already tenuous restraint and quickly settles himself on one of the plush black chairs, keenly observing the human as he takes the one opposite Will. Even with his vivid imagination, he can't imagine Lecter savagely tearing into humans and gorging himself on their flesh. No, he has the air of one who would turn even cannibalism into something elegant.
How lovely.
It seems therapy isn't going to be as dull as he expected.
"What would you like to talk about, Will?" Lecter asks him, voice clam and friendly. It probably sounds sincere to humans but it's all too easy for Will to pick up the faint notes of boredom in it.
I'd like to know why you eat people. And how. Will muses silently, wondering what if such a response would alleviate the human's tedium.
"I'm sure you are already aware that I don't particularly want to be here, doctor." He drawls, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and lets out a weary sigh that he's perfected a very long time ago. He doesn't see the need to mention how his opinion has now changed. "So I can't say I'm particularly interested in talking about anything. But for Jack's sake, let's discuss the incident that landed me here in the first place."
Lecter seems unfazed by his attitude and he's as calm as before when he speaks.
"And what incident would that be?"
"Don't you already know?"
"I would like to hear it from you."
"I killed a man." Will states before the other can fully complete his sentence and gets a slow blink in response. "We were chasing after a murderer- a serial killer- and I shot him. It was only meant to incapacitate but he shifted and it tore up his heart."
He's not lying. The shot was meant only to incapacitate. Guns were such a waste when there were so many other, wonderful ways to kill.
Lecter's lack of a proper reaction is enough evidence that none of this is news to him. And he's still bored.
What's to be done about that?
"You've never taken a life before." Lecter tells him, and the sympathy on his face is mild enough not to be annoying but convincing enough that most would not see it as the perfectly crafted mask it is. "That can be a very traumatizing experience. So, why do you think that you do not require therapy?"
Because, human, I've killed more if your kind than I care to count.
"I don't think I don't require therapy, Dr Lecter. I know I don't. I'm neither traumatized nor drowning in guilt. I'm not happy I made a mistake but the only reason I'm here is because Jack won't let me return to work otherwise."
And he would like to return to work. Profiling for the BAU provides him with the most entertainment he's had in a very long time. It'd be pity to lose it.
Of course he's aware that his answers are hardly aiding him in that goal but he's much more interested in drawing a reaction out of Lecter than establishing his sanity. He has a feeling that this one's response will differ rather drastically from those of ordinary psychiatrists.
Something akin to interest flashes in Lecter's eyes and he leans forward just a little, finally focusing fully on Will.
He takes another deep breath, unable to help himself, and runs his tongue over his bottom lip as his canines ache with need as his cannibal therapist's scent assaults him once again.
"That is an unusual reaction, Will. To treat murder so callously."
Will lets his lips curl into a small smile.
"Perhaps. But that doesn't change how I feel."
Lecter only nods in serenely in answer as if Will's answer was completely normal but he can see something not wholly normal peer out from behind dark eyes to regard Will with curiosity.
His smile blooms into a wide smirk.
"Tell me, Will, what exactly do you do for the F.B.I?"
"I catch killers." Will replies simply and bares his teeth in a feral grin before adding the rest, "By thinking like them."
And Lecter, he can see, is hooked.
The creature in Will purrs in pleasure.