Not Beta Read
I have no idea what I'm going to do with this.

You have been warned

oOo

"I found us a case."

Dean looked up from his tepid diner coffee and the remains of what had been a reasonably good breakfast of eggs and bacon. Basic but then again the place they were eating wasn't known for their extensive menu or healthy food if Sam's sad little bowl of oatmeal was anything to go by. Grimacing at the paste his brother was choosing to eat, Dean gave Sam his full attention or as much as he could muster with only two cups of coffee in him.

"That was quick. Where to?" he grunted, shaking his dry cup at a passing server. It was already beginning to feel like a long damn day and being deprived of free refills was doing nothing to alleviate that hunch. The Winchesters had just completed their latest excursion in the supernatural, a run of the mill salt and burn job in Maine. They had barely broken a sweat over it, and it left Dean feeling restless and bored. A year in Purgatory will do that to a guy though.

"Baltimore." Sam said. "Get this, there's a serial killer there." He avoided what was left of his congealing oatmeal by taking out his laptop, powering it up to do some fact finding. Wifi and lack there of was for other people, the angelic script carved into the modem instantly picking up an internet connection.

"Nice try, but thanks for playing." Dean grunting into his barren cup to have it echo in a vain attempt to get to the last precious drop, giving his brother a hard look over the chipped rim. What the hell was he thinking? Sam knew better than that. They didn't hunt humans. "I know you took a breather there for a while, but not our kind of monster. Plus cops and feds will be all over this one."

"It just might be though. According to the Tattler, all the victims were missing organs." Sam pointed out, digging into what was passing for breakfast this morning.

"You thinking witch?" Dean groaned inwardly and outwardly. Holy hell, he hated witches. They were so fucking gross with the using of the bodily fluids, usually their own, along with other people's parts.

"Could be but it's looking more like a demon. All the victims were staged. One guy was found in a church with his tongue cut out and left as a bookmark in the bible he was holding." Sam grimaced. Demons were sick bastards to begin with but damn, he hated the ones who thought they were funny. "They are calling him the Chesapeake Ripper."

"Good enough for me." Dean shrugged as he threw some money on the table. It wasn't looking like he was going to get any more shitty coffee so they might as well hit the road. He was already picking out the highways and byways in his head, aiming for something scenic. They didn't get out to the East coast much.

"You're right though. The FBI, the real FBI, is all over this one." Sam mumbled, scrolling through the Tattler's photo gallery. "We're going to have to go in through this one sideways."

"Gotta plan?" Dean asked.

"Even better. I found a guy." Sam said, focusing in on a picture and its caption. "A psychologist named Hannibal Lecter. He's been consulting on some of the cases but doesn't seem like he's an agent or official part of the investigation. He owns a practice in Baltimore and his website says he is accepting new patients."

"It's been a while since we've traumatized a medical professional." Dean smirked, stretching as he got up out of the booth. He grimaced at the amount of popping and lingering soreness. Hunting was rough on a body. "So are we doing this 'keep away from sharp objects' crazy or couple's therapy?"

"Well unless you feel like hugging it out or being admitted to the closest psych ward, I think we should go in as agents, flash our badges, and just ask a few questions. They got so many people in on this, we should be able to just slide in under the radar." Sam said, putting the laptop away to follow suit.

"Hope that doc is ready for our seven shades of crazy."

oOo
Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham both looked up in surprise from their usual seating arrangement at the two men in ill fitting suits as they entered the room with only a token knock on the door. Hiding his irritation at the interruption of Will's session, Hannibal rose first to face them.

"I do not know who you are, but you will have to leave." Hannibal told the men firmly as he memorized their faces. He had just been making some very important headway with Will to be bothered now by a pair of rude idiots. "As you can see, I am in the middle of a session, and I do not believe you have as appointment with me."

"FBI." the shorter of the pair said in a bored tone, flashing a badge as his taller partner did the same. "Wrap it up. We have some questions for you about the Chesapeake Ripper."

"No. No, you're not." Will glared openly, taking off his glasses as he studied the supposed agents. Hannibal noted that the empath's gaze was unusually steady. His gun was already out in his hand and aimed that the intruders, having obviously seen something Hannibal had not. "Not only are those fake badges, but I also happen to be an agent on the Ripper case. I see all your lies. You're wearing them like a second skin."

As quick as Will had been with his assessment and arming, the two men were ready for it, their own weapons drawn. Even with a firearm pointed at his head, Hannibal held a mild disgust for those sort of weapons. They were an inelegant method of dispatch. There was no skill in their handling, at least not the kind one needed with a blade or scalpel.

"Hey fruit loop, calm down." the rude man said. Hannibal thought it was interesting that he appeared calm and in control, like having a gun pointed at his head was for other people and hardly a concern. Both men were on high alert and tense, but not stressed out. Hannibal knew a warrior when he saw one, and despite their young ages, both these men were battle hardened veterans who looked like they had fought their way through hell and back.

"Everyone just calm down. We're just here for some answers." the taller fake agent soothed, trying to defuse the situation. Hannibal wondered how often that mournful, soft look of his and that gentle tone worked on other people. In the face of it, the doctor arched a brow back in answer, unimpressed. Hannibal was pleased to note that Will was having none of it either.

"You're killers. Both of you." Will strangled out the words, his breathing deepening as it came out in hot fevered puffs. He was connecting with both men at once and it was straining his already overtaxed psyche. "B-but not….people…?"

The men exchanged quick looks, communicating with each other on a complex level that Hannibal re-elevated their relationship from merely partners to close family, brothers. Though he was a field agent with a badge made from smoke and mirrors by Jack Crawford, Will was a trained professional of law enforcement with all the training that came with it.

That seemed to mean nothing in the face of their opponents, both men moving with a near surreal speed and grace. The rude man disarmed Will easily enough while the other moved to cover him, dropping Will to his knees. All in all, it didn't surprise Hannibal. Only as a means to an end, Will fought to defend others while resisting his true nature the entire time. Having no such reservations about themselves, these men fought to win, to kill. There was a significant difference.

For the most part though, the fake agents didn't seem to overly concerned about him at all. Hannibal mused what to do with this. A room full of predators and every single one of them was ignoring the biggest snake of all, putting their vulnerable backs to him. Will was down and out, but still annoyingly conscious though, so Hannibal refrained himself from taking any risky action just yet.

"What are you?!" the rude man demanded, sounding more irritated than angry. Hannibal could tell that if he thought Will posed any real threat, he wouldn't hesitate in ending his existence. Of course, that was unacceptable. Will was too precious to be so carelessly removed from Hannibal's life by some random thug, so the doctor felt it was time to step in.

"Gentlemen, Mr. Graham is a empath, and a very unique one at that. He has the ability to take on the personification of any person he comes in contact with at great personal expense to his mental health. He is a special agent for the FBI who specializes in serial killers." Hannibal supplied, keeping his tone calm and clinical. "If you harm him, it will draw a great deal of attention to yourself which I do not think you desire. I am not sure what you think he is, but I assure you, for the most part he is least dangerous person in this room."

"Thanks for the Cliff notes, but doesn't answer my question." the man growled through his teeth, putting away one of his guns to rummage around in his coat pocket while the other man covered him. Finding a flask, he uncapped it with his teeth much to Hannibal's distaste, flicking some of its contents onto Will who flinched though Hannibal thought it was more from both men staring down at him intently as if waiting for some sort of reaction. When nothing happened, they relaxed marginally.

"What did you expect to happen?" Hannibal asked, genuinely curious. To his dismay, he was subjected to the same treatment as the rude man turned to fling some of the flask's contents onto his face. Tapping down an overwhelming urge to maim and kill, Hannibal made of show of pulling out his handkerchief, patting at the liquid that was dripping off of his nose and cheekbones down onto his suit. "This suit cost more than I dare say both of yours put together and then some. Please refrain from ruining it."

"Don't get your panties in a twist there, sunshine." the rude man rolled his eyes. Hannibal decided he would do a seasoned salt rub for him with a hardy mustard sauce.

"It's only holy water." the taller of the two said in way of apology. If that answer to the unasked question had not been so unusual and interesting, Hannibal might have continued creating his future menu.

"I believe it would be beneficial for everyone if we all took a moment to introduce ourselves and clarify this situation." Hannibal said thoughtfully, the men being elevated from dinner to interesting, but just barely. He could always kill them later. The two exchanged looks again, the rude one taking the lead.

"I'm Dean, and this is my brother Sam. We are looking for something that's killing people." the rude man stated, nodding his head over to his kin, but kept his gun up and trained on them.

"I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter, and you have already met Special Agent Will Graham." Hannibal nodded. "I find it interesting though that you say 'something' and not 'someone'. Who, or better yet, 'what' are you hunting?"

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you." Dean snorted. "So here is what is going to happen. We're gonna ask some questions and you're going to answer them."

oOo

TBC