The day started far too early for his personal liking, but then again, it had been started by Will so Hannibal was willing to put that aside.

"Although I may be, is it safe to assume you're not sleepwalking now?" Well, mostly aside.

"I'm sorry it's so early." Will flinched, making Hannibal leave off the coffee making for now. Will had shown before the sun, reeking of fear and stress, more so than usual. Hannibal found this to be a pleasant awakening though, Will sharing this latest disadvantage freely with him, but also seeking him out right after it occurred. That deserved to be awarded.

"I shouldn't have teased you. Never apologize for coming to me. My place is always open to you, day or night." Hannibal said softly, cupping his large hands around Will's face, making it look more delicate than usual. He needed to be shaved again, but that was something for later.

Will always closed his eyes when he was being kissed, and kept them that way. He trembled finely as Hannibal chose to deepen the kiss, the empath finally sighing into it as he surrendered himself over. Hannibal couldn't think of anything he'd ever eaten that tasted sweeter than that.

Lust had its own heady scent, Will beginning to open up like a beautiful bouquet of emotions. While Hannibal definitely planned on taking this further at some point, it would have to be done skillfully so that Will didn't have any cause for deniability. It would have to seem like it was entirely Will's choice to progress their relationship further in the carnal sense. They weren't quite there yet, but the tantalizing aroma of Will's lust hinted that it could be happening sooner than anticipated.

Regretting what needed to be done, Hannibal parted them to return back to making coffee like nothing had happened. It appeared to leave Will confused yet clearly wanting more. He didn't seem to know what to do with himself, standing around awkwardly instead of taking a seat like most other people would have done. It was apparent to Hannibal that Will wasn't used to being invited to stay anywhere for long, or even offered a seat. That would have to be remedied.

"Come. Let's make ourselves more comfortable. I willing to bet you have sore feet." Hannibal said as he titled his head to the rarely used part of his kitchen, the breakfast nook, which was a shame. The space was filled with a pair of chairs and a table, dark wood that was hand carved in the Rococo style. Hannibal had picked them up some time ago in a small town just outside of Paris. It would be good for them to see some use and be appreciated.

"Um, yeah. They are." Once again, Will looked caught off guard from someone showing concern and compassion for him.

"Onset of sleepwalking in adulthood is less common than in children." Hannibal said as they settled in, handing off the coffee.

"Could it be a seizure?" Will jumping to worse case scenario, of course, much to Hannibal's amusement. Will's expression drinking his coffee was sublime. It was undeniably good coffee, but Will treating it like he were drinking ambrosia. Hannibal liked it when things crafted well were appreciated.

"I can take you in to see Doctor Sutcliffe again, but I'd argue good old fashioned post-traumatic stress. Jack Crawford has gotten your hands very dirty."

"Stress? You don't say." Will snorted, "I can't imagine why. It wasn't like I was forced back into the field or anything."

"I wouldn't say forced."

"Yeah, 'manipulated' is a much better fit." Will said, asking to quit without wording it aloud. "I'm sleepwalking now. I obviously can't handle it."

"Somewhere between denying horrible events and calling them out lies the truth of psychological trauma." Hannibal wasn't about to let Will to do that. His game with the FBI had only just started. Hannibal hadn't been so entertained in decades, every day a rare gift of something exciting and new.

"So I can handle it?" Will sounded incredulously about it.

Which was somewhat fair. He couldn't handle...not how he was now. With a little incentive though, he could. Hannibal was working on that incentive.

"You're sleepwalking because your recent experiences may have overwhelmed ordinary functions that give you a sense of control." Hannibal offered a more plausible explanation than a seizure.

"I'd say my body walking around with permission was a loss of control." Will still looked unsettled by it, but his ruffled edges were beginning to settle down.

"Sleepwalkers demonstrate a difficulty handling aggression." Hannibal said to ruffle those edges in another direction.

"Well, I've had more than my fair share of that lately." Will sighed, "You said Jack sees me as fine china used for special guests."

"I did, yes."

"I'm beginning to feel more like an old mug." Will smiled, self deprecating but still there. Will was already a beauty, yet when he smiled, it was transforming.

"What you do takes its toll."

"I should've expected that. I did enter into a devil's bargain." Will sighed, finishing his coffee with a look of regret like there wasn't more.

"Jack is more the devil than I am." Got a rare bark of laughter from the empath.

"This ought to be good. Proceed." And more smiling.

"When it comes to how far he's willing to push you to get what he wants, he certainly no saint." Hannibal tried to recall anyone else in his life who he could go back and forth so easily with like he did Will, that he wanted to keep doing this with. It was a very short list with Will remaining at the top of it.

"A little pot, kettle there, don't you think?" Will teases. He would have gone on, but his phone rang. Gauging from Will's expression upon glancing at the caller ID, Hannibal was sure his own was going off too. "Speak of the devil."

"Jack?"

"Looks like I'm about to acquire another chip in my porcelain." Will said before answering his phone. Hannibal began making breakfast for them while the profiler was being filled in.

"Where are we going?" Hannibal asked, handing Will a refreshed cup of coffee and a French style omelette stuffed with wild mushrooms Will had brought him, gruyere cheese, and ham made from a dishonest antique dealer.

"Somewhere unfortunate. New Jersey." Will sighed, "Oh, and there was a double homicide too."

Room 23 was hideous, but not in the usual cookie-cutter, corporate motel kind of way. It had individuality. It had flair. It had plaid carpeting of all things, dark wood walls, and quite a few knockoff Bob Ross paintings of happy little trees. What made it truly unique though were the pair of angels praying at the foot of the bed.

"Hooks were bored into the ceiling. Fishing line was used to hold up the bodies and...the wings." Jack grimaced.

The execution was amateurish, but the idea was magnificent. In Hannibal's opinion, this killer had some real potential. He couldn't wait to see more of his work.

"At least we know he's a fisherman." Beverly said as she dusted for prints.

"And/or a Viking." Price added.

"Vikings do this?" Zeller asked as he studied the corpses.

"Vikings used to execute Christians by breaking their ribs, bending them back, and draping the lungs over them to resemble wings. They used to call it the 'blood eagle'." Price knew the most interesting things. Hannibal considered him very well rounded, and his honey was excellent.

"Yes, they also did this ritual upon the honorless. The Christians were more sacrifices to their god of war, Odin." Hannibal said as he took his own look. If the opportunity presented itself, Hannibal hoped that he would get the chance to teach this individual some surgical techniques.

"Pagans mocking the God-fearing?" Will already looked worn out. Hannibal decided there was going to be a shave, a bath, and a sedative in that man's future as soon as they were done here.

"Then who's mocking who?" Jack asked, this art lost on him. Hannibal bit back a sigh. That notion obviously wasn't what the artist was going for.

"No, he's not mocking them. He's transforming them." Will said, setting the narrative back on track.

"I don't know if it was a good night's sleep, but he slept here. Hair on the pillow, and sheets are still damp. He's a sweater." Beverly said, moving onto examining the bed.

"Madness slept here last night." Will was already beginning his journey inward, his left hand already starting to shake.

"He threw up on the nightstand." Beverly said, taking a whiff of the ick on the end of her finger.

"Couldn't stomach what he did, flop swear and nervous indigestion." Jack said, Hannibal beginning to understand why Will found the man so tiring.

"Not nervous. Righteous. Thinks he's elevating them somehow." Will was all nerves. His hands were visibly shaking now. "I need a plastic sheet for the bed."

After plastic sheet was provided, there was a brief exchange between Will and Jack, the profiler ordering everyone out of the room except for Hannibal. Jack began to argue to be told flat out that Will would walk out right now, and they both knew Hannibal would support that decision. Hannibal positioned himself by the door to ensure that Will wouldn't be disturbed.

"This is not who you are." Will whispered, probably too tired to realize he was even doing so. It was thrilling to listen in on his process.

"This is my gift to you. I allow you to become angels." Was said like a prayer. "And now, I lay me down to sleep."

Hannibal committed every detail of this to his incredible memory. This was as close to a religious experience as Hannibal was ever going to get, and he wanted to be able to recreate it later.

His truest desire was to elevate this scene in the flesh. With his unique set of skills, he could make real looking wings out of flesh and bone, but doubted Will would agree to sleep under them again. Hannibal couldn't decide if he would frame Will on his bed in black, red, or blue silk sheets. With black, he would look a slumbering god, in red a saint being guarded, and in blue, a member of royalty sleeping, his rule one of divine right.

It took a moment, but Hannibal soon realized that Will had actually fallen asleep. The room having already been dusted for prints so Hannibal quietly wedged a chair under the door knob before going over to the bed. Avoiding the puke covered side, Hannibal knelt down to place a hungry kiss that would have made Sleeping Beauty pregnant to Will's lips. It had the desired effect.

"What are you doing?!" Will woke up to glare over at Hannibal. "This is a crime scene!"

"It is. You fell asleep in the middle of it." Hannibal pointed out to watch embarrassment wash over Will.

"Fuck."

"No one else saw." Hannibal said as he offered his hand to help Will up.

"Thank you." Will said softly, not looking at Hannibal, but he did hold onto his hand longer than necessary, kept holding it, both men growing still.

Unexpected and unbidden, a memory of a feeling emerged from his depths. Of a much smaller hand clutching at his fingers as she learned how to walk, dependent on Hannibal keeping her safe while doing so.

"Are you alright?" Was what brought Hannibal back to himself. His hand was empty now. He felt chilly from the loss.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" Hannibal rebalanced.

"Something...complicated just moved through you."

"You noticed."

"I wouldn't be very good at my job if I didn't." Will pointed out.

"Can you tell me what it looked like to you?" Hannibal asked.

"I'd rather not. I don't want to make the mistake of misusing words to label something so sensitive." Will said after a moment of hesitation.

"How do you know that? That it's sensitive?" Hannibal moved the chair out from under the door. They were running out of time to talk about this in private.

"Anything that has that kind of effect on you has got to be minefield. I'm not about to tap dance my way through that."

"Aren't you curious?"

"I am, but I really like where my organs currently are in my body." Will said, "You can tell me about it in your own time. I'll listen when you're ready."

"Thank you, Will."

And he meant it.