Garret Jacob Hobbs was holding Will down under the running current of blood, straddling his hips to prevent him from escaping. His menacing features warbled through the liquid lens as his strong, dead fingers closed tightly around the struggling Omega's throat.

Will could hardly move. He seemed almost paralyzed under the Alpha's weight; there was nothing he could do but scream inaudibly, trapped by the current that flowed endlessly from Abigail's opened artery far away and distant where he couldn't save her.

It filled his mouth and nose, invaded his eyes and sealed his ears with thick, liquid warmth. All sound was blocked except that of his own desperate pulse drumming in his head. The muteness was terrifying but then Hobbs' deranged laughter sounded close to his ear, clear as day.

"Don't you see, Omega? Oh, I wish you would. So many are looking but so few actually see."

Will felt his back grind painfully into the rough stones below from the Alpha's weight and his own blood was added to the warm flow. He didn't want to see, didn't want to know what Hobbs meant. His heart was beating a terrified rhythm against his ribs, needing oxygen, demanding it. The Alpha was dead, Will had killed him, but now he was the one being murdered.

Hannibal. He needed Hannibal. He could make this all go away…

Hobbs snarled. The sound shot like lightning through Will's head and suddenly he felt himself get yanked up out of the stream. The Alpha pulled him to his chest, growling audibly and gripping the Omega's waist possessively. Will flinched against the cold body but could do nothing but allow himself to be held up as he gasped for air in between bouts of retching blood.

"Your doctor hides behind a mask of darkness," Hobbs whispered wetly, nuzzling into Will's dripping ear. Blood smeared across his face. He took the Omega's lobe between his teeth and bit down, evicting a high-pitched whimper. "He will try to pull you down into the blackness with him. He will try to make you see."

"No, no, no…" Will breathed, unable to see from the blood dripping into his eyes. "Let me go."

Hobbs' laughter echoed in his mind and all around him and those dead arms released him as requested. Back into the red river he plunged, into a deep hole that went down and down and down.

XXX

Will sat on the edge of one of the overstuffed chairs of Hannibal's elegant waiting room. It was small but luxurious, with detailed crown molding and olde-style lanterns illuminating it with a soft glow. The deep crimson of the walls added a dreamy sense of grandeur. There was no magazine rack; Dr. Lecter would never have such a gauche thing in his office entranceway and besides, he would never make his patients wait.

Cracking each knuckle in succession in a bout of anxiety, Will realized he hadn't seen him in almost three days.

From Alana Bloom's account two nights previous, paramedics had lifted him unconscious from the Hobbs' home along with Abigail and driven to a nearby hospital. They treated him for suppressant withdrawal and shock while she went into surgery.

A tiny smile had played around Alana's mouth as she reported that Hannibal had not allowed the medics to leave the scene without him; he had apparently demanded to ride in the ambulance with Will and had hardly left his side since then.

He had awoken in the hospital room alone however, and Hannibal's scent was agonizingly faint. A nurse arrived quickly with a prescription to get him back on suppressants, though a lower dose, and released him to Alana. She was relieved to see that he wasn't hurt. Shaken yes, but they could deal with shaken.

She gave him a ride from the hospital and upon dropping him off at his country home in Wolftrap, offered to stay the night. Will thanked her but refused, saying that he just needed to collect himself without the distraction of anyone else's presence. He wasn't lying exactly, but he knew that her companionship would do more harm than good. It wasn't a friendly female Beta he needed.

There followed a day of much needed rest and down-time with his dogs. Their happy energy and bright spirits kept him from getting too deep into his head but the last two nights had been spent in the company of persistent nightmares. The early hours of the morning found him shaking and whimpering, curled around his pillows and blankets as if searching for reassurance. His dogs would be surrounding the bed, facing him and keening softly.

His distressed mind inevitably turned to Hannibal, seeking comfort from the one Alpha he knew that could provide it. Every time this happened he would have to bite his pillow to prevent the cascade of needy whines that threatened to pour out at the image of the man's face. The few confusing moments of wakefulness were the worst; he had to focus on breathing steadily, otherwise he would be overwhelmed by the stream of desperate sounds his body was intent on pushing out to call the Alpha to him. Like the uncontrollable gasps one takes while crying too hard, his body shook with the effort of it.

Several times he had grabbed his phone and was on the verge of calling Hannibal. He didn't have his personal cell number but his office wasn't difficult to look up. But what if he didn't answer? What kind of message would he leave?

'Hi Hannibal, it's Will. I just woke up from a really bad dream and, well, I guess I miss you and I'm almost freaking out at not seeing you, sooo call me.'

He hated himself for feeling that way, for needing someone so profoundly. It was wholly disarming; a grown man should be able to handle his issues on his own, not pine for some stranger he didn't even know. However as soon as he pictured the torn body of Garret Jacob Hobbs he started trembling and tunnel vision would set in. Those mad moonlight eyes would stare into his soul and whisper 'See? See? See?' over and over.

When Alana's call came suggesting that Will schedule his first real appointment with Dr. Lecter, he had to bite his tongue. Torn between needing to see the man just to stay sane and never wanting to see another Alpha again, Will reluctantly agreed and allowed Alana to schedule the meeting for him the following evening. The Omega in him could have purred and he spent the rest of the time leading up to the appointment in a state of twitchy apprehension.

Even if he was uncertain about seeing Hannibal again, he was sure he needed to talk to someone, anyone, about what he had gone through. Ten bullets were embedded into a man's chest and it had been because of him. Having someone to reflect with on that would be valuable even if he didn't respond well to therapy in the past. At the very least it might help with the nightmares.

Presently, as he stared at the ticking of the ornate clock on the wall of the psychiatrist's waiting room, he didn't give a damn about the bad dreams.

Hannibal's scent was all around him. Tantalizingly near, he could practically see the Alpha through the wooden door into the office beyond. It was sharp and provocative, an exotic glass of liquor from a faraway land of castles and dark mountains. He could almost taste it in the back of his throat. The familiar musky warmth was woven through it and Will's eyes were glazed before he had even sat down. It was soothing, like a call from home when you haven't heard from them in a very long time. A calming relaxation stole over him but he prevented himself from sinking into the comfortable armchair; he had to be ready.

The low murmur of Hannibal's voice suddenly sounded, close to the door. It made him perk his ears and tilt his head like a mutt hearing something it didn't understand and his heart jumped into his throat. The words were too muffled to decipher but it was obvious that he was conversing with another man. Curiosity flared to life. Who was it? Taking a deep breath brought no information; Hannibal's scent dominated every other. The man must have been a Beta.

The curiosity swiftly turned to blind jealousy and Will was surprised at its speed and potency. He had no possible reason to be jealous of any other male in Hannibal Lecter's room. In all probability it was just another client and he was overreacting like a hormone-crazed Omega. All the same he stood, lip rising in a half-snarl, and moved to the door.

Mine…

It opened unexpectedly just a few inches from his nose and for a moment his breath escaped him. Caught off-guard, he froze in place.

Hannibal wasn't prepared for his next client to be so close to the door, and as it swung open it brought both a blast of Will's scent and Will himself.

The Alpha's gaze met the Omega's bright blue one guarded with possessiveness and an instant responding growl built in his throat. Taking in Will's body language, the stiffness of his spine and arms and the way his head was tilted down as if to lunge, he knew that he was responding to Franklyn, the previous client that had just vacated. It made Hannibal want to gloat with dark satisfaction; his little Omega was getting territorial. And he liked it.

Stepping forward slowly as not to startle him, the Alpha breathed in steadily through his nose. Sweet pine cooled his lungs, though much milder than before. It was mixed with the spicy aroma of jealousy however and sang in his bones like the first wavering note of a sonata. Testosterone spiked, forcing his pupils wide.

Will blinked, coming to his senses as Hannibal approached. The sight of him after three long days was like a breath of fresh, cold air after being trapped underground. It made his mouth water and a jolt of desire speared behind his navel when he saw the blackness of his eyes. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light; the man certainly had a knack for ambiance. If only he could curl his fists around the lapels of his neat jacket and pull him roughly to his waiting mouth.

The knowledge that he was a client didn't particularly matter at this point, but it urged him to step back to maintain a professional distance. His body was having none of it though. His heels seemed anchored to the floor and Hannibal's eyes flashed as he reached him as if pleased by his stubbornness.

"It's good to see you, Will. How are you feeling?"

Will would have snorted had it not been for the preoccupation he was currently having with the Alpha's lips. 'Well doctor, I just killed a man and dream about drowning in his daughter's blood. So the answer is right fucking peachy. Can I kiss you now please?'

He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away.

"I've been better," he replied.

"I daresay you're in the perfect place to talk about that then," Hannibal said politely, gesturing for the Omega to step inside.

Will took the cue and acquiesced, unable to prevent inhaling deeply as he passed by the doctor. God, the man smelled amazing. He wanted to nuzzle his nose under Hannibal's jaw and scent him, press his mouth to the glands that were close to the surface and taste his skin. If it weren't for the distracting view of the Alpha's spectacular office, he just might have.

The room spanned a good fifty feet end to end, with soaring ceilings that dissolved into darkness. Refined didn't do it justice – classy seemed more appropriate. It seemed half office, half stylish library, as an entire second floor was devoted to row upon row of books. A catwalk ran around the length of the room, offering a superb view of the area below.

Two leather armchairs sat facing each other before a handsome oak desk. They were flanked by small glass tables and looked comfortable. Long, elegant crimson curtains fell from the top of two twin windows set proudly into the opposite wall, closed to the world beyond. They matched the color of the walls, a red that somehow made the room sexy.

"Would you like some wine?"

Hannibal brushed by Will as he moved to a cabinet against the wall, not failing to notice the shudder it evoked.

"Do you usually drink with your clients during therapy, doctor?" Will replied mildly, moving to the desk in the middle of the room. He was acutely aware of the Alpha's presence and wanted to stay in a position of control as long as he could; the farther away, the better. Anything closer than four feet had his head swimming.

Hannibal's answering chuckle made the corners of Will's mouth twitch.

"Alana Bloom may have scheduled our meeting as doctor and patient but I like to think we're more along the lines of friends. Would you not agree?"

Will leaned against the desk, unconsciously smearing his palms on the surface. Honestly, he didn't know how he felt about Hannibal Lecter. Obviously their relationship was nothing so formal as client and psychiatrist but he didn't know its name. What would one call the connection when an acquaintance cooks you breakfast and then witnesses you murder another human? When your hands connect against the spurting artery of a young girl's throat to try and safe her life, soaking you both in blood?

Friends just didn't seem right.

"I've never really connected to the idea of friends…apart from Alana," he admitted. "I presented Omega in high school and she sort of saved me."

Hannibal returned sporting two glasses of dark red wine. Will caught the way his eyes flicked up and down his body as he approached and he tilted his neck to the side slightly in response. For some reason being looked at by this Alpha wasn't uncomfortable, like how he usually felt under the gaze of any other. This was exciting. He accepted the glass with a nod.

"That must have been very difficult," Hannibal replied, facing the Omega but standing off to the side as to not appear threatening. He was pleased how Will was responding and he wanted to ease the collar of his shirt down to expose his neck more fully. The image of Will shivering as his fingertips brushed his skin made him want to close his eyes and savor it. "Adolescents are among the cruelest of us all; one wrong move and you're branded. I imagine there were few Omegas there you could relate to."

"I was the only one," Will replied, taking a small sip. "Started on suppressants when I was sixteen."

"Which you are back on currently," Hannibal stated. "I noticed your scent was not as pronounced as it was the day I made you breakfast."

Will looked up at him. He could have easily said 'the day you murdered Garret Jacob Hobbs.'

"They make life…more bearable," he replied, finding himself grateful.

"They also give you undesirable side effects such as nausea and vertigo," the doctor said, knowing eyes glinting, "and the dosages you've been taking were heavy enough to cause moderate withdrawal symptoms in less than 48 hours. Will, from this point on I'd like you to consider me as your exclusive therapist and physician. I guarantee you will find no one more qualified and, as a friend, you will receive no better care."

Will didn't know what to say. It would be incredibly convenient, to be sure, but would it work? Having a male Alpha for a physician didn't usually end well and he would hate to break off this new tentative relationship when it had just begun. Sighing, he placed his wine on the desktop and straightened from it, using the excuse of exploring the room to avoid Hannibal's regard.

"That's very nice of you, doctor, but I'm not the easiest patient to treat," he muttered.

Luckily the acoustics in the room were good and the Alpha heard every word. Setting his glass on the desk beside Will's he quietly moved up behind him like a lion stalking its prey. So trusting, turning his back on him like that.

The Omega's eye had caught something against the far wall and he momentarily forgot where he was; an onyx sculpture of a proud stag was displayed on a table between the two windows. He walked over to it, captivated. It was just like the beast in his head, the same that waded through knee-deep blood in his dreams and warmed his skin with its hot breath. Fashioned to look in mid-stride, it had its head held high and gazed outward with a stoic expression.

Will reached out and touched the tips of the sharp antlers, another unconscious behavior to leave his scent everywhere he could in the Alpha's office.

Hannibal approached silently and paused within a couple of feet. Will was beautiful from every angle and he relished the small moment of vulnerability with his back turned to him. In a deliberate long inhale he leaned in slightly and pulled Will's scent into his lungs.

The suppressants were doing their job well and he could have grumbled in frustration. His scent, though still fragrant, was nullified. He could have passed for a Beta and the idea made him want to snarl – this unique Omega, so dissimilar from all the others he had ever treated, should be walking the streets clear of drugs so everyone would know just how extraordinary he was. With Hannibal's own intertwined with it of course, so they would know not to touch.

"Did you just smell me?" Will asked after a moment, looking over his shoulder at the Alpha behind him. He wasn't sure if he had actually heard it or if he had momentarily gotten lost in his wishful imagination.

"My apologies. Call it a prescription to start easing off the suppressants. It would do wonders for the nausea, and it'll be much easier to scent you at a distance without them."

Ice flooded Will's blood and he paused with his jaw hanging off his shoulder. Did the Alpha actually just say that?

Slowly he turned, surprised to see that Hannibal was closer than he thought. His expression was unreadable but his eyes hadn't lost their blackness. A dropping sensation in his stomach made him made him bite his lip; he was trapped between the stag and the Alpha with nowhere to go.

"And why would you want to scent me, doctor?"

Crap, that came out way flirtier than I wanted, he thought in a panic.

Hannibal tilted his head and smiled softly, enjoying Will's expression and wide blue eyes.

"As a boy I was blessed with heightened senses, even beyond my own Alpha playmates. As a psychiatrist I once diagnosed liver cancer in one of my previous clients by smelling it on him. Without your suppressants, I'll be able to tell if anything is amiss and be able to treat you immediately."

Will could have wilted at the professional answer but swallowed drily in relief.

"I'll try, but it's difficult to go anywhere when all the Alphas around me won't stop staring. I can't count how many times I've - "

"Then I will give you an item of mine to wear with you. When you go out, they will simply assume you are bonded and leave you alone."

This, however, was the kind of smack-you-in-the-face forwardness that made an instant flush rise in Will's cheeks. His stomach contracted with something like lust and anxiety and his palms grew sweaty. It was a bold suggestion but the Omega knew it would work; with the scent of such a powerful Alpha on him they wouldn't dare come near. It was also a dangerous one. Was he proposing it just to mess with his head under the guise of medical advice? As actual solutions went, it was hardly a long-term one.

Hesitation made him step backwards which drove the tips of the stag's antlers into the small of his back. The sudden pain made him balk, wobbling the display. Great, now he was going to break the doctor's possessions as well as embarrass himself.

Inconveniently for the Omega, Hannibal matched his movement and took a step forward, forcing Will to either keep the sharp points digging into him or turn away completely. He was thoroughly enjoying watching him squirm.

The Alpha's scent cocooned him in a warm embrace and Will struggled to think clearly. The echo of wine was still in his mouth and seemed amplified as he parted his lips to taste the delicious aroma. He could feel the heat exuding from Hannibal's body, he was so close.

"That doesn't seem quite orthodox, doctor," he muttered. Relaxation loosened his limbs and he let his head droop sideways, feeling relief at succumbing to the gentle pressure.

Hannibal leaned in and eased into the negative space the Omega created between his neck and shoulder. A hint of pine, barely a wisp, met him.

"Scarf or gloves?" he asked in a whisper.

Will's eyes fluttered shut at the nearness of the Alpha's voice.

"Mn, scarf," he replied.