Mild sexual content warning.

CH 2: On the Warpath

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Will glanced up from his book and grimaced. It was probably Crawford stopping by from Quantico, intent on dragging him out to yet another crime scene. As he searched for a good stopping place, the knocking grew more persistent.

"Alright, alright," Will grumbled. Tossing his book onto the coffee table, he irritably padded to the front door. He angled his head toward the oak slab and listened. "Yeah?"

Silence.

Assuming it was some punk trying to cause trouble, Will irritably opened the door and prepared to give the prankster an earful. The sight that greeted him, however, caused all words of malice to instantly die on his tongue.

"Abigail?"

She gazed up at him with hollow, yet imploring eyes, her chest heaving like a frantic sparrow's as she stepped further into the porch light. The sudden spectacle caused Will to stagger back.

"Christ, Abby, are you…are you bleeding?"

Abigail gave an eerie smile in response, her right hand smearing the blood splattered across her chest. Her face, neck, and the majority of her white nightgown were also covered in gore.

Now stepping forward, she raised her left hand and presented a severed stag's head. Will cried out and jerked aside when she threw it at his feet, the soft, blood-matted head rolling to a stop somewhere behind him.

"Why are you here?" he demanded. "What are you trying to prove?"

Abigail's lips pulled back to reveal several dark, blood-stained teeth. Had she…eaten the stag?

"I wanna be bad, Will," she whispered. "Teach me to be bad like you."

Will felt his insides folding in on themselves. "I…I don't know what the hell you're talking about. I've never been intentionally bad in my life."

"But you are bad, Will," Abigail lowly insisted. "You're the reason I'm like this…you've made me what I am."

"Shut up," he hissed. "Just shut the hell up!"

"Don't fight it, Will…you want this."

"No, I don't!"

Wordlessly, Abigail stepped forward and grabbed Will by the arms, her strength surprising him when she roughly slammed his back against the door. With a soft moan, she angled her mouth into his. Her tongue violated him as she forced the taste of warm, coppery blood to fill his mouth.

Will jerked back in shock. A droplet of crimson trickled from his lips, and Abigail immediately licked it away. The slow, sensual drag of her tongue caused his body to stiffen, a choked cry catching in his throat when she seized him between the legs.

Abigail nipped his chin. When Will trembled uselessly in her grasp she cupped him yet again, all the while studying his face as she stroked and squeezed him through the fabric of his boxers. She wanted to know what he liked.

With his head lolling back against the door, Will groaned and traitorously pressed his hips into her searching hand. She released him then, pushing his boxers down to his knees before pressing a deep, lingering kiss above his navel. She felt him twitch as he grasped her shoulder, his fingers digging to the point of pain as her tongue flicked across his skin.

Yesyesyesyes. She was so close to where he needed to be touched… So close that he was going mad with the painful anticipation.

Gazing down at her through hooded lids, Will panted when she grasped him tightly between her hands. "W-wait, I…"

"Shhh." Abigail licked him then and he clenched his teeth, releasing a strangled sound as she eased him into her mouth. Smoothing her tongue along his hardness, she grabbed his hips and drew him in until his tip rested against her throat, her body shuddering as she allowed her gag reflex to massage him. She never even choked.

Abigail lifted the skirt to her nightgown and began stroking her swollen folds. If Will wouldn't touch her, she would be content to touch herself. Easing two fingers inside her slick heat, she bucked and twisted her hips into her probing hand as she sucked, using the tight ring of her mouth to increase the pressure in his loins.

Will's knees nearly buckled. Watching as she pleasured them both at the same time, he fisted her dark locks and pressed down so that more of him eased into her mouth. Abigail made a soft noise of approval.

By now they were both covered in blood, yet neither seemed to care.

Shivering, Abigail moved to rise back to her feet, but Will pulled her flush against his throbbing arousal, his teeth gritting when she rolled her hips against his straining erection. The girl's eyes burned into his as she looked up at him, her lips quirking into a coy little smile. It was clear she was pleased by the effect she was having over him. Before he could even think to speak, a shrill, harsh vibrating noise seemed to shake the room. Will clapped his hands over his ears and shuddered. The sound was getting louder…

"Aren't you going to answer that, Will?"

He looked up at Abigail in bewilderment. "I…what?"

"Answer it, Will – it's for you."

"But I…we just…"

"Answer the damn phone!"

Vaulting upright as though attached to a spring, Will took in several deep, panicked breaths as he gazed around him in bewilderment. Abigail was…gone? Shit, he'd done it again!

Embarrassed over his physical state, he passed a hand over his mouth and listened as his cell continued to ring on the nightstand. Frustrated, he flipped it open and recognized the number as Jack Crawford's. He accepted the call and tried his best to sound nonchalant. "Yeah, what do you want?"

"Well hello to you, too! Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, Graham?"

Will grimaced and checked his clock. "Jack, it's three-thirty in the morning – I shouldn't be anywhere near 'waking up on the wrong side of the bed' just yet." Grabbing his glasses off the nightstand, he placed them on the bridge of his nose and asked, "So what couldn't wait until a normal hour? I take it you've got a case for me? Because I swear to God, Jack, if you're using me for pillow talk instead of your wife, I'll-"

"Relax, Will, you're starting to develop a sense of humor." After letting that good-natured barb sink in, Crawford's tone grew decidedly serious. "As always, you're completely right. We've got a case over in Birmingham, so I expect you to meet me at Quantico in half an hour."

"Right. Got it. Just let me get some pants on first."

He heard Jack snort. "Please do. Lounds already has you pegged as a sociopath, so we don't need to add 'flasher' to the ever-growing list."

Will smiled in spite of himself. "Yeah, sure – see you in thirty." After he hung up, he already had a firm grip on himself as he went stumbling into the bathroom. Sometimes erotic dreams were worse than nightmares.

The minute Will stepped into Crawford's office, he was mindful of how unsteady his legs were due to the crude, lascivious actions he'd taken earlier that morning. Fortunately for him, nobody seemed to notice. Jack stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, and his dark brows knitted in a way that made him seem grim and tired. He didn't even have to speak, because Will knew what was coming next.

"How many bodies?" he asked. Sometimes it was best to just beat Jack to the punch.

"Two this time – we received reports on a couple missing persons found in a forest." Rubbing at his soul patch, he rolled his eyes toward Lecter and shrugged. "As you know, we'll need you to accompany us, Doctor. I don't feel that Will's in a sound frame of mind just yet, and quite frankly, I think you feel that way, too."

Will frowned. "I am right here, you know. Despite what you might think, I'm not going to fight you on this – let's just go before it gets too dark to make heads or tails of the grounds."

Lecter had remained stonily silent during all of this, so Will couldn't help but regard him with caution. The doctor's eyes were chilled and probing, almost as if he knew something that no one else was privy to.

Will felt his blood run cold. Did Lecter know about…? No. It wasn't possible. How could it be possible? The man may've been a gifted psychiatrist, but he wasn't a mind reader.

Trying his best to avoid Lecter's penetrating stare, Will pretended to check the safety on his gun. When he couldn't keep using the simple task as an excuse, he nodded to Jack before heading toward the exit. He didn't stop shaking until he reached his car.

It was midday by the time the FBI units reached the crime scene and, as always, Will was left alone to ponder the site. Two bodies had been randomly spliced together like a macabre puzzle – the wounds were also coinciding, and alluded to the idea that both had been bludgeoned before being entwined. Though Will was accustomed to bizarre cases, this one took on a whole new level. It seemed the killer believed they were a modern day Van Gogh.

Exhaling through his nostrils, Will bowed his head and closed his eyes. Wind whistled through his hair and he clenched his fists, his overactive imagination plotting out the possibilities of what had happened.

Body number one…blunt force trauma to the back of the head, followed by several knifed hash marks on the torso. After attacking this victim, the killer obviously sought out someone of a similar stature and background. The missing person reports proved this and more. Once body number one was dead and cold, the killer turned on victim number two, and…

Abigail's face flashed across Will's mind and he jolted, stunned at the sensory overload that just flooded his system. Her hands, teeth, and tongue were stroking him all over…her eyes were staring into his soul…she was-

"Will? Will, what's wrong?"

Blinking back his frustration, he turned toward Jack and self-consciously curled his shoulders. "Nothing, I just…I'm afraid I've done all I can for now, so I'll need some time to stew it over." Catching Crawford's admonishing look, he quickly defended, "Nothing was ever achieved in a day, you know. Even God took a whole week to create the Earth."

Jack nodded. "Right, of course – Price!" He motioned to the analyst and pointed to a nearby tree. "Go ahead and swab that down for test results, would you? And while you're at it, check the dirt for any possible hairs or clothing fibers."

Will exhaled and turned away from the crime scene. At the moment he was tired – unbearably tired – and he just wanted a bit of time to relax. The events leading up to his disturbing dream were still weighing heavily on his mind.

Lecter appeared at his side out of nowhere. "You seem troubled," he spoke, his accent thick and non-judgmental. "Do you wish to discuss what you saw?"

Will elevated his shoulders. "Maybe… Though I really don't want Jack knowing about this. Would you mind if we stopped by your office?"

"Of course not. Let's go."

Lecter was preparing some things in his workspace, so he told Will to take a few blocks around the building until he was ready for him. Will, needless to say, was more than grateful to the much-needed alone time. He wasn't even sure he was making the right decision by confiding in his doctor. Lecter, after all, might be morally obligated to report any such discrepancies.

Chatter suddenly erupted from one of the hall rooms. Distracted, Will turned his attention to the noise and craned his head to see what was going on. As he did so, he gave a soft grunt when his shoulder clipped a petite bystander.

"Why don't you watch where you're going, you prick?" came the nasty, irate response.

Will was stunned by the growling force of the words. Realizing that it was Abigail, he sucked a breath and moved to help pick up the things she'd spilled from her purse.

She fiercely jerked her belongings away from him. "Thanks, but I can do it myself."

Even though Will could tell she was angry because of their talk, he didn't let this fact deter him. Studying her puckered brow, he curiously asked her, "What are you doing here? You should really be with a nurse right now."

"What's it to you?" Abigail snapped. "I got a total 'fuck off' vibe from you yesterday afternoon, so don't act like you care about me."

Will swallowed, his hands clenching as he remained in a crouched position. "But I do care about you, Abigail…and maybe that's the problem."

"Don't you tell me that," she snarled. "What, so you think that by saying you 'care,' I'll forget about what happened yesterday? Putting the blame on me isn't going to work!"

"But I…"

"No!" she fiercely interjected. "I get that you've got all those weird, psycho nightmares, but guess what? I have them, too! How do you think I feel, huh? It's like you think you've got some sort of monopoly on tragedy, you sick, self-pitying jerk!"

Abigail flailed against him then, her tiny fists beating against his chest as she sobbed. Her words struck a chord in Will that left him breathless. She was right…he was selfish. So selfish that he knew he needed one more thing of her.

Wordlessly pulling Abigail toward him, he urged his warm mouth over the slant of her gasping lips. Stealing her breath, he angled his face roughly into hers and grasped at her cheeks, desperate to feel the flutter of her pulse; the one sign that proved she might need him as much as he needed her.

Will heard her whimper and felt her hands come to his chest, his lips pressing more deeply into hers as he kissed her hard and frantically.

He only came back to reality when he tasted Abigail's warm, salty tears. Breaking the kiss with a panicked breath, he blinked while observing her face cradled between his hands. Her eyes were wide and confused, and her bottom lip quivered as her tear-stained cheeks glistened in the overhead lights.

Will choked and hurriedly lurched away from her. "I'm sorry," he moaned. "Oh God, I'm so sorry…"

Abigail moved as if to rise off the floor, but he'd already dashed forward and thrown himself into the safety of the men's bathroom. Feeling his gag reflex beginning to work, he stumbled over to the sink and abruptly vaulted himself across the surface. His limbs trembled as he tried to stave off the ever-growing nausea.

Images of Abigail taking him in her mouth flashed across his eyes and he vomited, bracing himself against the sink as the unwelcome taste of bile expelled from his mouth. He shuddered. He needed sleep…he needed the chance to recuperate from all that had been happening as of late. And, most importantly, he needed to stay as far away from Abigail Hobbs as possible.

After rinsing out his mouth and spitting into the sink, Will abandoned the bathroom and peeked out into the hallway. He was alone.

Silently rambling off a litany of thanks, he rubbed the side of his whiskered cheek and made his way back to Lecter's office. The doctor was studiously bent over his desk, scribbling out God only knows what on a document file.

"Can I come back in now?" Will winced at how strained his voice sounded.

"But of course," Lecter said without looking up. "Please have a seat."

Will obediently complied, his expression vacant as he practically collapsed into the offered chair. "I've done something…terrible," he whispered.

Lecter finally regarded him, closing his folder with the manner of one deep in thought. Though he hadn't been provoked, Will took this as a sign to continue.

"Abigail, she…I-I mean, we just…" Groaning, he placed his head in his hands and heaved a shaky breath. "I kissed her. Oh Christ, Lecter, I actually kissed that poor kid."

A beat elapsed, then Lecter asked him, "Do you desire Abigail Hobbs?"

Will jerked to attention, both shocked and disgusted by the lewd assumption. Upon seeing that there wasn't a hint of derision or mirth in his doctor's face, he shook his head and rolled his shoulders forward. "I…I don't know."

"There is no need to hide from the truth, Will. The human psyche always knows what it wants," Lecter admonished. "Our brains have a defense mechanism that tricks us into believing a lie, and all for the sake of not revealing our true desires. So I shall ask you again: what is it that you want from Abigail?"

Will stared back at Lecter, his hands covering his mouth as he searched his soul for answers. What did he want from her? And once he had her, what the hell did he hope to gain from the experience?

"I…" He choked, shaking his head. "I think maybe I'm looking for someone who knows what I'm going through. She…she actually understands me."

Again Eldon Stammet's words echoed through his mind, and he miserably closed his eyes.

"Then you must do what you see fit," Lecter acknowledged. "If Abigail Hobbs is the one who can keep you from falling over the precipice, you must reach out to her."

'You would have found her in a field where she was finally able to reach back.'

Will shot up from his perch as if he'd been burned. "I…I have to go now," he blurted. "But thank you…for the advice."

As Will flew out the door in a blur of disconcertion, Lecter folded his hands and smiled.