...Hannibal...
"I think we dream so we don't have to be apart for so long. If we're in each other's dreams, we can be together all the time." - A.A. Milne
''A book?'' Will tried to contain the disappointment in his voice.
''You don't have to pretend you are interested. I appreciate honesty''
To tell the truth, Hannibal couldn't care less about the book but it was the best subtle form, or at least he imagined, to bring up their last conversation.
''Sorry. What is it about?''
''Dreams'' he said looking forward to his reaction and Will inhaled sharply.
''Hmmmm, no need to examine me that deeper. I'm already accustomed to the idea of not sleeping well''
''Oh, I insist. The nature of a dream can tell a lot about your problems, it could help you. Have you been dreaming with Alana?''
''After that kiss, I don't seem to dream about her anymore''
''Did the kiss satiated your desire, or wasn't it as you expected?'' He was fishing for information, but very discreetly, or not.
''You could say that, I didn't really feel something. As you said before, it was just me looking for a support of reality, safety.''
''There are other things that can support you''
''Such as...?'' He said bemused.
''Me'' Hannibal said while opening the book.''I'm your psychiatrist and your friend, if you ever feel like loosing grip onto sanity, I'll try to help you''
''I'm... glad. I hope your fully sane then''
''Fully? No one is fully sane. But I can help you reassure where and who you are''
''Wow, that's a lot''
''Don't underestimate those'' Stubborn Will could make him lose his patience sometimes, but not yet. ''Well, so it is not Alana? With who have you been dreaming then?''
''I'd be really embarrassed if I told you''
''You already are'' He waved his hand and pretended he was guessing ''A man? That's nothing to be ashamed of''
Hannibal already knew it was himself, for weeks he had been planting some ideas in Will's head through hypnosis. He wasn't sure it would work and didn't believe it, but the results were obvious now. Seeing Will drifting to unconsciousness submitted to his hypnosis... It aroused primitive needs in Hannibal, other than the ones he already indulged. Not that he hadn't been with a man before, but Will was different. The blushing he would have thought silly on another's face, fitted Will's perfectly, insinuating an innocence appealing as good food, music and wine. It has been a long time since something equaled to his good old indulgences.
''You don't understand, I'm not gay''
Hannibal frowned, raising his light and almost non existent brows.
''Ok, but I'm not attracted to any man, it's only the one in my dreams''
Now Hannibal was flattered.
''Is it someone I know?''
''Yes, but I'm not telling anymore''
''No need to, merely curiosity''
''Professional curiosity?''
''If you want to call it that''
...Will...
They sat around the table while Hannibal read the book out loud. He wasn't paying attention to what was being said, only to the timber of Hannibal's voice. It was grave and sometimes rough, a soothing lullaby, not to sleep but to initiate an exotic ritual.
The air smelled of desire and for brief seconds, Will felt the harsh breath of the stag down his neck, the same stag he had been seeing since... he had began to work again for the FBI. Entering so many killer's minds in such a small period of time had him crazy and this remembered something that Hannibal had said to him another time.
...''He's a psychopath, but he's not crazy. Psychopaths can discern the difference between right and wrong, but they don't care about it.''...
At least he wasn't a psychopath. But that was no console. He sometimes forgot what he did, confused dreams with reality and wasn't sure anymore what he really wanted. Even Alana who used to be his bedrock couldn't help him anymore and he didn't want her too. What he wanted was the man in front of him to fuck him on that same table. Wow. Such direct thoughts with things he'd never thought before, but there they were, suggesting something he's never wanted before. Strangely he wasn't ashamed for his thoughts, but should he be?
If you are not shocked by Will's line of thoughts - although anyone could understand how the doctor might be appealing, whether for physical or intellectual traits - it's because even he himself wouldn't dare describe what he imagined more detailed.
''...accordingly to the nature of the dreams''
''Huh?''
''I was saying that a deer defecating would be the sign of anxiety ''
''Really? How so?'' It'd have been be funny to hear the serious man saying that but he wouldn't dare to laugh about it because deeply, he was kinda afraid of deers, a better word would be intimidated, they remembered him of stags. Actually most people think they're the same, it may seem obvious but deers are not stags.
''It's supposed to be joke, Will. I was just checking if you were listening''
Hannibal and jokes don't combine, he should try dark humor.
''Sorry''
''You apologize too much, no need for that''
''S... ok, I'd better be going, it's getting late''
''See you tomorrow then. Good dreams''
That last phrase said with an innocently menacing tone and red lips slightly curving upward.
...Will...
''And he strikes again'' Will said with a bitter laugh.
If you are wondering whether the special agent had dreams again with the doctor, the answer would be: yes, of course. Today he woke up frustrated but wouldn't dare release the sexual tension in the shower because whenever he analyzed the course of his actions: his hands gently adjusting himself a little bit longer than necessary... He wouldn't, he couldn't! Why? So many reasons but he couldn't put one in his thoughts. Later he would figure it out.
This time the victim was a man, but it was obvious the work of the same killer as before. Though the positioning was still erotic, the mutilation was much worse, including the genitalia. What a freak was this murderer, according to the profile Will had built, he was a 40-something man, with fetishes, but that was the obvious part to any FBI profiler. The first step was always to find something in common between the murders, connect them. In this case the signature was ''pretty'' apparent, all corpses had strings cutting trough the meat and internal organs were missing.
Will could imagine the killer, after dismembering a body, laughing maniacally and saying ''Get yourself together, man!''
The basic steps for profiling were common, anyone could do it. That's where Will did his thing. He closed his eyes and his breath calmed down, that was strange. Normally he felt full of power and adrenaline, as the killer, but now it was peaceful. It was the effect of anesthesia.
My eyelids are so heavy, the black of their insides is all I see.
I don't want to open them. Somebody is beating me and the wet sound of blood gushing out of open wounds is all I hear.
It's my blood an I don't wanna see it. While the guy is screaming ''I'm not a fucking puppet'', all I wanted to say was ''I'm not a fucking puppet too!'' but no words came out, not even a scream.
Nothing was all I said.
Everybody should be fucking able to at least scream when they're suffering and dying. My eyes involuntarily open and the last thing I see is a lot of human body pieces but I focus on the wedding ring that looked vaguely like mine on a hand that looked like mine.
Yeah, they were mine. My last thoughts weren't about my wife or my kids. I just couldn't stop thinking ''Shit. Did the fucker cut my dick too?''
Will opened his eyes, trembling, one hand to steady him on the wall and the other curled protectively around his own cock. He didn't empathize with the killer, but with the victim. This wasn't right. He just wanted to go home soon, sit with his dogs and analyze this further, maybe even talk about this with Hannibal later. Would it be of any console to the man that his dick wasn't cut, just mutilated? Will did feel sorry for the man but his last thought as he left the crime scene was ''Why did I relate to the victim?''