"Hannibal mentioned to me that Tobias has been saying some really dark things to you."
"He did? I thought you weren't allowed to?" Franklin said, looking nervously over at Hannibal as he quietly sipped his wine. He had insisting on crashing their lunch. After pointing out how rude it was to do so uninvited, Hannibal had been sworn to being polite to Franklin which equated to Hannibal not really saying much at all.
"I'm not your therapist anymore, and we had a casual conversation out in public." Hannibal said, settling on being the sulking lion in the room.
"If you're sure…" Franklin was going to start destroying his napkin at this rate. Under the table, Will poke Hannibal with his shoe.
"I am."
"Well, Tobias said he wanted to cut someone's throat and play it like a violin, and then, they found someone whose throat was cut and played like a violin." Franklin said quickly, glancing between Will and Hannibal.
"Do you think Tobias killed that man at the symphony?" Will asked patiently, "There is no right or wrong answer. Just tell me what your gut, your inner survival instincts, are saying."
"Yes, no, I don't know. I-I…if I do, do I have to report it?" Franklin was definitely scared, timid and confused about what he should do.
"You can tell me, and I can decide that for you, if you'd like." Will assured.
"What if I'm wrong?" Franklin asked.
"That's my job to determine that and deal with the consequences." Will soothed, "Franklin, what if you're right?"
"I've always wrong." Franklin said as he balled up his napkin.
"Hey, bud, we've talked about this." Will reminded gently, "What don't we do?"
"Speak poorly about ourself." Franklin said, forgiving his napkin.
"Why do we not do that?"
"Because there are more than enough people in the world who will do it for free."
"Exactly. At worst, I'll do my job, and you might be right, and end up saving a ton of people. If you're not, no harm, no foul. I have to interview Tobias anyway because he owns a music shop that specializes in strings. There are not too many of those in Baltimore." Will said, "Of course, neither Hannibal or myself will even mention you or your concerns."
"Why would he say something like that to me?" Franklin asked, tension beginning to seep out of his shoulders.
"Why do you think?" Hannibal said coolly, Will shooting him a glare of 'can you not for once in your life?'.
"'Cause he knows I'd tell you or Dr. Lecter." And Franklin was right back to being stressed out and frightened. Will kicked Hannibal as quietly and hard as he could under the table.
"I think Hannibal is the more likely target in this scenario." Will sighed.
"Oh no! I've put him in danger!"
"No, you have not. You've brought it to my attention in a timely manner, and I'm not going to let anything happen to Hannibal." Will stated firmly, getting a look of utter devotion from Franklin and one of amusement from Hannibal. "Do you have any plans with Tobias soon, like in the next few days?"
"N-no. We have been a little out of touch lately." Franklin said.
"Good, keep it that way until the investigation is over," Will told him, "Just to be on the safe side."
"What if he…you know?" Franklin asked nervously.
"Then I will personally put you into protective custody."
"You will?!" Franklin looked more elated than concerned now.
"I will. You could prove to be instrumental for the entire investigation." Will promised, leaving lunch for Franklin on a very odd yet high note for him. Will was amused by it. Hannibal was not.
Chordophone turned out to be a lovely little music shop tucked away in a sweetheart place in a normal whatever street of Americana. The area practically bled apple pie, baseball, and freedom.
They descended upon the place right before close. So, of course, the first thing Hannibal did was silence the doorbell with gloved hands, the leather of which was a rich buttery brown. Tobias was playing a violin from somewhere inside the house, its melody telling Will more about its creator than it probably intended to. He immediately went into action casing the place, memorizing where doors and windows were, locating the alarm system, noting its make and model.
"His kill room is here. Basement more than likely." Will murmured when he returned to Hannibal after making a loop. He smiled and nodded, looking far too pleased with Will.
Hannibal did his own loop, starting to touch things. It was all minor adjustments, but there was a need there. Things had to be straightened and aligned.
"Tell me again about how you don't have OCD." Will mumbled under his breath, intentionally reaching over to misalign a pen by the register. Hannibal said nothing, but still moved it back. Before Will could move anything else, the music finished up its composition, and its creator soon joined them, more than likely to close up the shop rather than greet them.
"You're Doctor Lecter, Franklin's therapist. Good to see you again." Yup, Tobias was entirely here for Hannibal, Will immediately feeling like a third wheel as he was breezed past.
"Former therapist. I closed down my practice to work solely for the FBI." Hannibal said, tapping down some of Tobias's enthusiasm. "Is it Tobias?"
"Yes." He was now on uneven footing with him remembering Hannibal so completely from one chance encounter, and Hannibal barely bothering to remember his entire name. It was a delightfully subtle and effective maneuver.
"Your strings are all gut." Hannibal said as he deliberately plucked a string of a cello.
"I also carry steel and polymer strings, if you prefer." And there was definitely an unspoken question there, hidden between the words said aloud.
"I prefer gut." Hannibal confirming that they were actually talking about murder, not music. "Harps strung with gut still make music after 2,000 years." He said, plucking another string.
"I didn't hear you ring the bell." Tobias observed, let them both know that he had noticed.
"I didn't want you to stop playing." Hannibal said, pleasing Tobias. Will realized that at this rate, this was going to take forever to get to brass tacks. "Was it an original composition?"
Yes, obviously, Will thought uncharitably, lacking the the vim and vigor of passion and actual creativity. Tobias had played professionally at some point, and have gotten overlooked by someone important, at least important to him. If Will had to hazard a guess, Tobias had been passed up for first chair in the strings section of some orchestra.
"Something I've been writing. You compose?" Tobias said.
"I discover." Made Will want to pinch the bridge of his nose because Hannibal woke up today to, yet again, choose being a pretentious fuck. "You can't impose traditional sound on an instrument that is inherently freeform."
"What instrument would that be?" Tobias asked.
"The theremin. It can generate any pitch throughout its range," Hannibal said, making a significant pause, "Even those between conventional notes."
"So can a violin." Will added, reminding everyone in the room that he was still present, though it might have been a little too direct.
"Or a trombone." Tobias confirmed all of Will's non-existent suspicions.
"It seems we are all comfortable playing between conventional notes." Hannibal said which made Tobias look over at Will as if to reevaluate him.
"Would it be safe to assume that neither of you are here as FBI agents?" Tobias asked.
"Nope." Which wasn't a lie in the slightest.
"So what brings you here looking for gut?"
"We're here about his harpsichord." Will said, nodding over at Hannibal.
"My harpsichord needs new strings. It's making an awful noise." Hannibal said, "I hear the symphony is looking for a new trombonist."
"Altogether horrible what happened." Tobias faked.
"Not altogether." Hannibal, "It's an unfortunate way to leave the symphony, but I can't help thinking the orchestra will be better for it."
"At least the brass section." Tobias all but preened. Will wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.
"I apologize for being so blunt, Tobias, but I have to ask. Did you kill that trombonist."
"Do you really have ask?" Tobias's snide response made Will sigh.
"No, just changing the subject." Hannibal said
"Franklin finally gave you my message."
"In all fairness to him, Dr. Lecter had already closed his practice to consult full time for the FBI." Will said, noting the look of revolution from Tobias as he defended Franklin.
"Good thing I know several someones who are in the FBI then." Tobias was really putting the cart before the horse. He was clearly assuming that Will and Hannibal were a team of murderers, and that by working for the FBI, they were actively evading discovery and capture.
"They're going to find you." Will said
"Let them." Tobias smiled, confident and completely unbothered.
"You want to get caught?" Hannibal was intrigued because why wouldn't he be. Will hoped his own personal irritation didn't overwhelm his patience.
"I want them to try, much how you are doing?" Tobias wasn't wrong. It was a little pot, kettle. "They may investigate me because I own a string shop. They'll send men to investigate, and I'll kill them. Then, I'll find Franklin, and kill him too. After all that, I will disappear."
"Don't kill Franklin." Hannibal sighed, simultaneously annoyed and impressed that Will was right on the money about Franklin's impending murder.
"I've been looking forward to it." Tobias said the exactly wrong thing to say in Will's presence. Something within him ground to a halt as Tobias continued. "Actually…I was going to kill you."
"Of course you were. I'm lean. Lean animals yield the toughest gut." Hannibal said, completely unbothered, but he was serving his purpose. "What stopped you from killing me? Or have you stopped?"
"I stopped after I followed you one night. Out of town. To a lonely road. To a bus yard." Tobias began, focused on Hannibal, too focused.
"You're reckless, Tobias."
"I'm not going to tell anyone what I saw you do and do well." Which was exactly what they wanted to hear, "So my recklessness doesn't concern you."
"It concerns me." Will said from somewhere behind Tobias, the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. "You won't be drawing attention just to yourself."
Tobias was in limbo between the frying pan and the fire. He just didn't know it yet. Giving in to temptation, Tobias made the mistake of turning to face Will, giving Hannibal an opening. It was oddly satisfying to see someone else other than himself be drugged for once. Hannibal moved astonishingly quick and quiet, the content of the syringe already pressed into Tobias's body before he even had time to react. Hannibal let him fall to the floor, the pair of them already in action. They closed curtains, locked windows and doors, and flipped the Open sign to Closed. The basement was quickly found, Hannibal doing all the heavy lifting. Though he had been picked up many times before by Hannibal, it was impressive to witness a fully grown man being hauled around like he weighed no more than a sack of flour.
Between the two of them, it was quick work to strip Tobias down to his skin, gag him, tie him to a support beam, and then, duct tape him into place.
"A little excessive." Hannibal mused at their handiwork.
"We're not taking any chances of him miraculously escaping." Will said as he stole Tobias's keys from the clothes pile. "C'mon, we've got to get going, make sure the neighbors see us leaving here."
Hannibal was on top of that as soon as their feet hit the sidewalk, going right up to a neighbor to ask them about their wonderful garden. That they wished all their interviews were in such lovely neighborhoods, and yes, they were FBI and had just been talking to Tobias, oh, and had they seen that murder in the paper, and no, Tobias wasn't a suspect, and would they mind terribly if he could get some clipping from their herb garden.
"I told you." Hannibal said as soon as they were back in the privacy of the Bentley.
"Pray tell, told me what exactly?"
"That I hadn't made a mistake."
"Don't look so smug. Being followed is a mistake. Just because it was by a fellow serial killer doesn't make it any less of a mistake."
They returned well after dark, each man coming from a different direction, making their own way there. Copies of Tobias's keys had been made, so they just let themselves in through the back. Hannibal arrived first since he had more to do so he was able to greet Will when he opened the basement door, joining him back on the first floor. Hannibal was momentarily worried about Will who seemed to be having some sort of seizure or convulsions.
"What are you wearing?" Will managed to wheeze out. He was doing everything in his power not to laugh. "Is that a murder onesie? Seriously?"
Hannibal decided not to dignify that response with an answer, but it didn't help that Will's sudden mirth would re-emerge full force every time the suit squeaked. Will's own outfit was the poor man's version of the murder onesie, mechanic's overalls with gloves, googles, mask, and a hairnet. All of which was very burnable and disposable in an instant. They were also non-squeaky.
Hannibal had already started in on Tobias who was very much awake, and sweating from pain. His throat had been opened from the outside, his vocal chords expertly severed. This time around, Will took his time looking through Tobias's basement. His terrible song was back in full force as Will stared at large jars that were packed full of intestines. There were at least 30 different people down here, all awaiting to be made into tools for music.
And for what? Because Tobias's musical talents had been overlooked or passed over? That he was bitter because no one was breaking down his door to hear his song? He could have kept killing like that for the rest of his life if he hadn't sought out Hannibal's attention, and Will's own, for that matter.
"You wanted a friend." Will told Tobias whose eye confirmed it, "You wanted someone who could understand you, who thinks like you do, and can see the world and the people in it in the way that you do."
Though it was probably fresh hell to do so, Tobias nodded ever so slightly.
"Though you may not believe me, I know exactly how you feel." Will said softly.
"I do as well, but I don't want to be your friend." Hannibal said.
"Neither do I. I am tired of your song playing behind my eyes." Will told Tobias.
"Would you like to make it stop?" Hannibal smiled as he offered Will his scalpel.
In that moment, Will was standing on the edge of a knife. He could end this. He had his gun. He could shoot Hannibal in his ridiculous murder onesie. He could end Hannibal. This all could be all done and dusted.
Except…he would have to end Hannibal. If Will left him live, there would be no peace in sight, in any foreseeable future. They were the living embodiment of the tide, of push and pull. One could not exist without the other. One could not simply leave the other alone.
It was a ridiculous thought because they were just two people, but the thing that had ground to a halt in his head earlier started whirring and spinning again. Will look around and past the room, and saw the legion of victims fill the basement's space. If they simply arrested Tobias, he would end up alive and well with Gideon at the place for the criminally insane. Tobias might even become famous in the odd way serial killers do. Chilton would pamper him so that he could sell books about Tobias. His fans would listen to his music and obsess over it. It would inspire them to create their own, and that was enough to make Will come to a very vital, life changing decision for everyone involved.
The jars had all been musicians once, silenced forever, their gifts stolen all because Tobias had decided that they were flawed, unworthy of their gifts. His victims, and anyone else who had loved them, deserved better than that.
"No, thank you. I'm not killing anyone, even Tobias, but you have fun." Was all Will said before leaving the basement and Tobias to his fate. He did what he came here initially to do which was locate Tobias's laptop and phone, meticulously getting rid of both. He then searched the house just in case. Will knew it he couldn't find anything, it was a pretty safe bet that no one else would either.
Completing his tasks first, Will left the way he came in, locking up behind himself. In a dark side street a good ways away, he stripped down out his own murder suit, shoving everything in a backpack that had an immediate date with an incinerator. The copied key was chucked into a moving body of water.
Will had already cleaned up, showered, and was in bed by the time Hannibal returned. He did the same before climbing into bed with Will, looking sated in some ways and ravenous in others.
"Is he?" Will's question was almost swallowed up by Hannibal's hungry intense kiss. This close in the dark he could tell what Hannibal had in mind.
"Do you really need to ask?" Was the question nipped into Will's skin.
"No."
"I want you." Hannibal said, heat and intent behind every word.
"You can have me." Will said as he parted his thighs. After all, to the victor goes the spoils.
It wasn't as painful as Will expected it to be for his first time. Or maybe Hannibal just didn't want it to be. It was different and unfamiliar, but at the same time, strangely good if one was into being held down by their wrists overhead while being thrusted into at a very languid pace. Apparently, and much to his own surprise, Will was, learning something new about himself. He came untouched, pinning in place by Hannibal's eyes, hands, and cock. Hannibal's gaze was unwavering, consuming the feast that lay beneath him.
Hannibal had impeccable self control even while doing this, fucking Will through his first orgasm, through the almost overwhelming painful sensitivity that came immediately afterward, and right back through the other side of pleasure. Near the very end is then that iron self control finally began to melt, Hannibal's pace increasing, rapid fire words in foreign languages breaking the intensely held silence between them. When he could finally bear to separate them, Hannibal used his tongue to lave Will's spend and sweat off of his stomach and anywhere else it had gotten to. He left his own inside Will.
"Are you satisfied?"
"Never."