With his head down, Will was lead along a path and into a house. The neighbourhood was a quiet suburbia and the crime rate was low.

With that in mind, Will eyed the body he was presented with. The woman was in her mid forties, well groomed and sporting a gaping wound in her lower abdomen and chest. She was sat at the kitchen table, bent over with her face pressed against the table top. Two untouched cups of tea and some biscuits on a plate beside her.

"Why did you bring me here, Jack." Will said, not taking his eyes from the body. As he studied the manner and way, in which she'd been left.

"I need your eyes, your imagination. Giving you files to study only helps to a certain point."

"I'm not FBI, neither am I qualified nor even permitted to be here, probably. Find someone else to do this, before you lose your job." Will frowned, pulling his eyes away from the body and turning round to face the other.

"I can't do this anymore, Jack. I don't want to be responsible for the shit that will hit the fan when they find out that you let a member of the general public onto a crime scene."

Will felt uncomfortable as the silent FBI agent studied him.

"I'm sorry I pushed you into this, Will. I thought it must have been fate when we met again. A rarity like you, doesn't come around often." Jack patted one of Wills shoulders.

"As we're here…. tell me what you see."

Will looked down, clenching his eyes shut, as he felt the tingling of a headache coming. He didn't want to do this, but he didn't feel like he had a choice.

Sighing he looked back up, turning away from Jack, and back toward the body.

Inhaling in slowly, and out equally as slow; he relaxed his body. Letting his mind settle and focus on what was around him. He liked to imagine the pendulum of a clock, swinging. Much like the grandfather clock his father owned.

'I know my victim, and she knows me. She was expecting me, perhaps a pre planned meeting.'

Will sat opposite the woman, as she looked back at him, smiling.

'We chat, and socialise over tea. She's completely unaware of my plans. Pulling the knife from my jacket sleeve, I embed it into her heart. Pulling it out and stabbing the same spot over and over.'

Will stopped stabbing the woman, looking her limp body over.

'Taking out her heart, amongst other organs. I leave her as I killed her. Making sure to remove any trace of myself left behind and taking the organs with me…'

Will frowned, the real world coming back to him as he stood in the same spot he was before, staring at the body.

"This was a sloppy kill. Someone trying to copy anothers work." Will said, looking back at Jack.

"Are you telling me, that this isn't The Rippers work?"

"The Rippers cuts are always clean and precise. These wounds were caused and cut open in a barbaric manner. He wouldn't dare damage the organs he was going to harvest. This isn't The Rippers work."

He stood, watching. Blending in with the crowd of onlookers and reporters. Thrilled that such a huge number of police and even FBI had turned up to his murder. As much as he hated copying someone elses work, he wanted some attention; The attention of The ripper, himself.

Looking at his watch, he tutted. He had a meeting in thirty minutes, he couldn't stay to watch the show.

Fishing his car keys out of his brief case, he turned to walk back to his car; halting in his tracks as yet another FBI car drove past.

Stopping to watch, he raised an eyebrow as a scruffy looking man got out of the car. The man seemed familiar to him, though he couldn't put his finger on it.

Watching a little longer, he followed the unkempt brunette with his eyes, as an agent led him into the house.

Frowning, he turned away and continued to walk to his car. Getting in, he started it up; his mind racing, trying to remember where he'd seen that person before. His mind was telling him it was important.

Stopping at a red light, he idly looked out of his side window. The tv's in a shop window catching his eye.

He watched the cooking show that was playing for a few seconds, before it clicked. He knew exactly who that man was.

As soon as the lights turned green, he sped off in the direction of home, he was going to call in sick today.

Will pressed the bell of Hannibals house. He'd moved back to his own place a week before, but had found himself coming back to this house almost every day since.

As the door opened, Will looked up into Hannibals smiling face as he stepped aside, and let Will step over the threshold.

"Well you're a bit late today, aren't you?" Jested the older man. Will didn't so much as twitch a smile as he stood, his head slightly bowed. The other tilted his face up slightly, scanning his eyes. "Come, let's have some tea in the living room. We'll talk there."

He ran his hand down Wills back. Holding it on the small of the brunettes back he guided him to the living room. Leaving Will momentarily, to brew some tea.

Will removed his coat, draping it over the back of the sofa and sat down. He ran a hand over his face and through his hair. The murder scene he'd just been to, still fresh in his mind.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Hannibal came back with a tray in hand. Placing it onto the coffee table, he took a seat next to Will and poured him a cup of tea from the teapot.

After handing Will the cup he poured himself a cup, took a sip and again surveyed his eyes, remaining silent.

Will frowned a little, taking a sip from his cup. The tea warmed his insides, though he had no idea what kind it was. Placing the cup onto the coffee table he sat back, slouching into the sofa slightly.

For a while both just sat there, Will looking at the familiar layout of the room while Hannibal kept his eyes on him.

"I've just come back from a crime scene. Jack Crawford thought it would be a good idea for me to actually see one of the victims."

Will stopped speaking for a minute, side glancing at Hannibal, who was watching and listening to him intently. "I told him I didn't want to do this anymore. I can't sleep at night as it is." Will continued.

Hannibal placed his cup down and sat back on the sofa with Will, though a lot less slouched. Moving a hand he placed it on the younger mans thigh in a comforting manner. Allowing his thumb to stroke it softly.

"They're struggling to catch him, hence why Jack asked for my help. The crime scene I was taken to wasn't even a Ripper victim, It was a copycat. And not particularly a good one."

Hannibals' expression faltered slightly, his hand squeezing Wills' thigh a little. "And no one noticed it was a copycat murder. Apart from you?"

"No, I'm sure they would have worked it out in the end though. With or without me."

Gritting his teeth, he watched the display between the two men, through his binoculars.

He didn't like how cosy the two men were; it angered him the way the so called chef touched The Ripper, his Ripper.

He'd followed Will Graham, followed him to this mans house. He'd wanted a chance to speak to him.

Phone ringing, he jumped slightly and pulled his eyes from the binoculars, placing them in his lap.

Checking the phone he ignored the call, and threw it into the passengers seat next to an ID badge. His picture and the name 'Matthew Brown' printed under the companys name.

Biting at his thumb nail he continued to watch Hannibals' house through the binoculars. Watching as Hannibal and Will spoke to each other and drank tea. Seeing the chef make Will laugh he stopped looking, throwing the binoculars into the passengers seat with rage.

He decided he needed to gain the attention of Will Graham. He would be a far more faithful follower and friend. And he had a plan, a plan that would get him noticed.

Starting the car he pulled away from the curb and smiled to himself. His anger calming quickly as he mentally praised himself.

Will sighed as he pulled into his drive, he'd only just managed to escape Hannibals' grip. He had refused to stay the night, much to the older mans blatant disappointment.

Grabbing his bag from the back seat, he got out of his rusty old car and locked it up. Sifting through the bunch of keys, looking for his front door key as he walked.

As he walked up the steps, he stopped. His front door was open slightly.

Ignoring the sirens going off in his head, he slowly walked up the last couple of steps and toward his door. He placed a hand on it, and slowly pushed it open.

He stood in the doorway for a minute, squinting into the dark hallway. Straining his ears for any sort of sound.

Against his best judgement, he stept over the threshold. Making sure to tread carefully and as quietly as he could, making his way across the oak floor of the hall.

Stopping in the middle of the hallway he pulled his phone out of his pocket, deciding it would be a good idea to call someone.

"Will?" Jack answered, his voice questioning the call.

"I think someone's been in my house, Jack… The door was open." Will answered. His voice coming out in hushed whispers. "I don't know if they're still here."

"I'll be right there, don't go inside." Jack said. Will could hear the man clattering around.

"It's abit too late to be saying that, I'm already inside." Will moved and walked toward the slight glow of light he could see coming from his kitchen.

"Will, get out of there now. It's not safe for someone unarm-" Will dropped the phone, his face painted with a look of shock.

Laid out, naked and cut open on his dining table, was the body of Freddie Lounds. He sucked in a breath as his eyes looked over the scene. Her body had been surrounded by candles, and the news article featuring him had been pinned to the wall behind.

It looked like a shrine.

"Will. Are you ok?" Will looked up at the voice, grateful for a friendly face.

"I'm fine, Hannibal." He managed a small meek smile as the older man walked up to him. He'd been told to stay in the SUV, and supplied with a blanket.

Hannibal stretched out a hand, smoothing back Wills hair and stroking his cheek softly. "No, you're in shock." Hannibal replied. Pulling the blanket around Wills' shoulders properly.

"You worry too much." The brunette said, though he smiled again, a little more warmly this time. He was glad to have found such a friend.

Hannibal returned the smile, lightly gripping Wills shoulder. "You're coming to stay with me again. No arguments." He looked around the police filled street, trying to spot Jack amongst the flashing lights and bodies.

"I would like to get permission from Agent Crawford though, before we leave. It would be bad if I was accused of kidnapping, no?"

Will nodded his head, chuckling a little at Hannibals attempted joke.

Matthew chewed on his thumb nail angrily as he watched the scene unfold from his viewing spot. His gift, the sacrifice he'd laid out. It had all been tossed aside by the person he'd wanted to impress the most.

How could he do this to him? Did he think he was too good for him, just because he was The Ripper?

No, this wasn't right. Pulling the thumb away from his mouth angrily, he ignored the stinging sensation as it started to bleed.

He was going to make Will Graham his friend, or he was going to destroy him.