Anti-NMDA Receptor Encephalitis. That's what they told him he had. After that, the next few days were a blur of anti-virals as they tried to put out the fire that inflamed half of his brain. He spent most of the healing process sleeping, having few moments of lucid consciousness he could recall once he was in recovery. When he did wake up completely for the first time, the initial thing that he registered was the weight of someone's hand in his own.

Instinctively, he closed his hand around it, feeling warmth and dampness and worry. However once his eyes started to flutter open, the hand in his disappeared and he heard two pairs of footsteps shuffle away. A door opened and closed a moment later and only one pair returned. Will looked up at the small, sterile hospital room, searching for the face belonging to the footsteps he heard and finding Alana in a chair to his right.

"Alana?" he said, his voice coming out as a soft croak from lack of use.

"Will, it's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?" she said with a small, sad smile.

"Um, I'm not sure yet," he replied, trying to keep his eyes open but he still felt a little groggy and he could feel that he was flush with a fever. "What have the doctors been saying?"

"The inflammation is nearly gone. Once your fever breaks, you should be able to go home," she said comfortingly.

Will nodded, recalling everything that happened to him. All of the hallucinations, the black outs, the sleepwalking had been caused by the encephalitis. But for as many answers as he had, there were still several important questions. One being, if Frederick was in his head, what did he do? And, after all of the tests Hannibal performed, how could he not have known? Will just didn't know what was true or who was worth his trust.

"Will?" Alana said, seeming hesitant. He turned to look at her, his brows furrowed from his thoughts. "There's someone outside who would like to talk to you, if you're willing to let him."

Will frowned, thinking of who it could be when the anxiety at the back of his mind spiked. His frown turned into a scowl and he looked away from Alana. "I have to admit, it's a good plan. Wait until I can't run away. Since when are the two of you friendly?"

"Frederick contacted me a few days before I invited you out to lunch," Alana said carefully, gauging his reaction. "He practically pleaded for my help. He was convinced you had a significant brain problem, told me of your symptoms. I admit, I was concerned, but not ready to believe. But then, Frederick started to apologize for his past transgressions between us and I realized he was different. You had changed him. So I agreed to meet with you just to make sure."

Will shook his head. "That's wonderful for you that you're such good friends now, but no matter what he did, I don't want to see him."

"He's just concerned, Will," Alana said defensively. "He cares about you."

"Well, apparently your new best friend didn't tell you the whole story," Will snapped.

Alana frowned, clearly confused.

Will sighed. "Bring him in."

After she looked him over curiously, Alana stood up and opened the door beckoning Frederick inside. He stepped in timidly, refusing to look at Will initially. Once he was completely inside with the door closed, he glanced up and Will could see the physical extents of his misery. He'd let his beard grow out rather than the cleanly trimmed one he once wore, his hair was disheveled, he still wore a suit but Will could see it hadn't been dry cleaned. His eyes were the worst, the eyes of someone broken. It hurt Will to look at him, so he didn't.

"Will," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Will closed his eyes and shook his head. "No."

"I can leave, I just wanted to see that you were okay," he said, his voice cracking. "I'm glad you're okay."

Will could hear his footsteps walking away from him but the click of Alana's heels intercepted him. "No, this needs to be resolved." Will opened his eyes and looked at the both of them. She had her hand hooked around Frederick's left arm and guided him to sit in the chair at Will's side. "Will, explain what you meant by him not telling me the whole truth."

Frederick visibly flinched at that and Will savored his fear for a moment before feeling guilty. "He was inside my head, Alana. He manipulated me somehow because I could hear his voice, over and over, like a tape, telling me I'm waking up in a pleasant room. That I was safe. Psychic driving," he said, looking directly at Frederick when he said the last two words.

Frederick shook his head, looking from Alana to Will with an indignant expression. "I swear on my life, I never did what you're accusing me of. I admit I lied about that to you, Alana, that Will heard my voice and thought it was my fault, but I knew you'd be less likely to help and he needed help. You can't say he didn't. It happened to you, but it wasn't me."

"You may not have caused the encephalitis symptoms but you did something," Will growled.

"I didn't do anything, Will. It was Ha—" Frederick cut himself off and stared down at his shoes.

"It was who?" Alana said, staring at Frederick.

"Go ahead, Frederick," Will said. "Tell her who you think it is."

Frederick stared hard at Will, looking him so deeply in the eye that it made Will uncomfortable. "It was Hannibal."

Will looked to Alana after he said it but she didn't appear as shocked as Will had suspected. She seemed mildly surprised, but it faded quickly. He frowned, glancing from Frederick to Alana, unsure of what to think.

"Alana?" Will said.

"He's been treating you for weeks since your first black-out, Will," she said, sounding like she was in shock.

Frederick nodded. "She's right. He's had multiple sessions with you, no word of a possible medical condition. You spend a half hour with Alana and you're in the hospital, getting the treatment you need. Will, you have to see it," he said desperately. He reached out hesitantly for Will's hand and, in Will's confusion, he let him hold it. "Please."

Through the contact, their bond grew stronger from its weakened state after weeks of Will trying to push it away. Will felt his sincerity and his desperation and it made him doubt himself. "But… maybe he didn't know. Maybe something changed between our last session and the lunch."

"It was the span of one day," Alana said shaking her head as he stood at Frederick's side. "That would be a drastic change."

Will removed his hand from Frederick's before reaching up and rubbing his face. "I don't understand. So, maybe he missed something, but if this was all him, how could he get your voice?"

"Will, psychic driving is sometimes accomplished through tapes put on a loop. I…" he hesitated, glancing up at Alana for a moment before turning back to Will. "I have some of those tapes. I haven't used them… in a while. But the last time I did, they were not all there."

"Frederick!" Alana said in a reprimanding tone.

"Not now, Alana," he hissed, looking up at her with narrowed eyes. She mimicked his glare back at him before he turned back to Will. "I never said anything about it because I assumed I had misplaced them. Plus I didn't exactly want to draw attention to the fact that I used them. Not anymore, though, Alana."

"And the last time you used them was?" Will said, feeling doubt, but he didn't know what he doubted.

"The last time you know of. When I promised I wouldn't anymore," Frederick reached out and held Will's right hand between both of his. "I kept my promise."

Will could feel the truth from him, though he didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to believe he'd been so wrong. "How could Hannibal have gotten those tapes?"

Frederick shrugged and dropped his eyes. "I wish I knew. I knew him as an acquaintance back then, a colleague. I'd had dinner with him once before when he threw a whole party but I don't know when he could've taken the tapes. But he did it, I believe he did more than I believe anything."

Will squeezed Frederick's hand tightly, feeling angry and confused. "He did this to me?"

His stress became visible on the heart rate monitor he was hooked up to and Frederick tried to calm him down through the bond, sending him soothing emotions. "He did this to you. Not me. Never me, Will. You said you loved me, well, I love you. You can feel that's true."

Will looked Frederick in the eye and saw that love there. He felt it through the bond in waves. The guilt that Will felt from how he acted for the past weeks flared up but Frederick didn't allow it.

"Will, no. I don't blame you for how you reacted. This is his fault. Every piece of it," Frederick said, and Will felt his anger toward Hannibal like a forge's hot flame.

Despite all of this, a part of him was resistant to it, firm in a belief that Hannibal was innocent. Will slipped his hand from Frederick's and laid it across his stomach. Will smiled weakly at Frederick, who looked worried with his frown and crinkled brow.

"Either you didn't do it or you've gotten good at lying through the bond. You do a lot of it, Frederick. Lying," Will said sadly.

Frederick shook his head defiantly. "No, I can't lie through the bond. I can't. Will, I didn't lie to you."

Will buried his face in his hands, his head hurting and feeling hazy. "Well, someone is lying and I would like it if everyone left until I figure out who it is," Will said harshly before dropping his hands and glaring at the two of them.

Frederick appeared determined to stay, but Alana nodded, though she looked at Will with sad eyes. She grabbed Frederick by the arm and led him to the door, whispering something in his ear as she opened it and walked both of them out of Will's room. Once the door clicked shut, Will groaned. His skull throbbed and ached like it was tearing itself apart. He felt sick and conflicted and he didn't know how to deal with any of it. All he wanted was the full truth but there was no one around to give it to him.

Frederick didn't return for the duration of Will's hospital stay, but Alana visited two more times. His attitude toward her wasn't cold, but it wasn't pleasant either. They didn't talk much but Will did enjoy the company, though he wouldn't admit it. Hannibal tried to visit multiple times but Will turned him away each time. He felt no desire to see him, not while he was in the hospital for a condition he could've known about. Once his fever broke and he was declared healthy, he was allowed to finally go home.

As they wheeled him out of the hospital to be taken home, he expected Alana to be waiting for him just outside. Instead, a sleek, black car waited with Hannibal Lecter in the driver's seat. Will hesitated when the nurse stopped pushing the wheelchair. He gripped the arms of the chair as though he were thinking about standing, but he really just wished Hannibal would leave, that he wouldn't have to get in the car with him, but he didn't have another choice.

After a quick glance back at the smiling nurse behind him, he stood up, leaving the hospital behind, and opened the car door. "Hello, Dr. Lecter," he said with a frown as he slid into the seat.

"Will, it's good to see you're well," Hannibal said, starting the car and pulling away from the building.

"No thanks to you," Will replied bitterly.

"I'm sorry I didn't see this sooner," Hannibal said with regret in his voice. "I blame myself. I just pleased you received the help you needed."

"You should blame yourself," Will snapped, turning to look at him for the first time, glaring him down. "I blame you. How could you have missed this?"

"I mistook your symptoms for a psychological problem," Hannibal said, turning to him sadly. "I hope you can forgive me. I'm glad Alana saw what I didn't."

"Not just Alana," Will said, looking down at his hands.

"Hm?"

"Frederick saw it long before she did and I didn't believe him. It was for a good reason, but now I even doubt that. Because of you," Will said spitefully.

"Will, he—"

"No, Hannibal. I'm terminating our current arrangement. No more therapy sessions. I'm done with all of it," Will said, staring out of his window and ending the conversation between them.

He could sense that Hannibal wanted to speak more but Will wasn't about to give him the chance. He kept his body turned away from him and didn't even look at him when he parked in to drop him off at home. Hannibal stepped out of the car after Will, following him up to the front door.

"Will, perhaps we should discuss this," Hannibal said calmly.

Will turned around to face him when he reached the door, causing Hannibal to pause at the top step of the porch. "I don't want to discuss anything with you because I can't believe a word out of your mouth anymore. I spent three weeks with you, six sessions, and nothing. You were keeping this from me. I don't know why and I sincerely doubt you're going to explain yourself now, so I have nothing more to say to you."

Will turned away and walked into his house, slamming the front door behind him. He wanted nothing more to do with any psychologists. He just wanted to be left alone. Once he heard Hannibal drive away, he relaxed a little but still locked his door after stepping away from it. He checked on his dogs who had been fed and let out each day by Alana and Frederick and they appeared to be happy and in good health.

He found solace in knowing that he wouldn't be hallucinating anymore, no more losing time, no more significant mental instability. He would be okay. He just hoped he could get the rest of his life back in line as well. He hung up his jacket before going to take a shower so he could wash the smell of the hospital off of him.

In his mind, the restrengthened bond told him that Frederick was feeling better than he had been. Ever since they'd spoken, he felt a little more relieved, though the worry underneath it still felt overpowering. Will really wanted to talk to him, to see him, but he couldn't bring himself to call. It felt awkward after everything that happened between them so he chose to wait a little longer, perhaps for Frederick to call him. He felt like a beleaguered adolescent but he still felt like his emotions and hesitations were valid.

He spent the rest of the night trying to relax and rest like the hospital staff told him to, but it was harder than it sounded. A knot of stress settled in his chest from everything that happened and that he didn't know about. He had the week of classes off for more recovery time but he wished he didn't. He wished he had something to take his mind off of his problems.

In an attempt to accomplish this, he tried to read a novel about World War Two but only managed to get a few pages in before he fell asleep on his bed with all of the nearby lights still on. He hadn't realized the extent of his exhaustion after his long last day in hospital recovery, but every minute of rest helped him heal. It also kept him from Frederick's anxiety, which started to spike around eleven at night and turned into full blown fear. Will's heart started to beat rapidly in time with Frederick's, but even that didn't pull him from sleep. But, a half hour later, his heart grew to a pace reminiscent of a person going into cardiac arrest and Will woke up feeling like he was under attack.

He gasped for air, looking around him for some sort of assailant but he found himself alone. After a few moments, he remembered where he was and realized what he felt wasn't his own feelings. They were Frederick's. Will bounded to his feet, startling the dogs who were sleeping around the fireplace, and ran to his jacket to grab his phone. He dialed Frederick's number three times before he finally got the message he wasn't going to pick up. His mind and heart were screaming that Frederick was in danger but he didn't know how to find him.

He paced back and forth, trying to think, but it was difficult with his emotions running so high. After a minute or two, he realized he could track Frederick's phone, but he would need help. He grabbed his cell phone again and called Jack this time, waiting a few rings before he finally answered, his voice deep, tired, and slightly agitated.

"Hello?"

"Jack, I need your help. Dr. Chilton is in trouble and I need you to GPS track his phone so I can get to him," Will said, speaking in a quick, panicked tone.

"Slow down, Will," he said, sounding a little more awake. "How do you know Dr. Chilton is in trouble?"

"I can feel it, Jack! Through our soul bond. My every nerve is screaming danger, my heart is beating a mile a minute. He isn't picking up his phone. Please, I need to find him," Will pleaded.

"Okay, okay. I'm going to need to hang up so I can make a call to Beverly, she's quicker than I am when it comes to computers," Jack said, in a calming voice.

"Okay," Will conceded as Jack ended the call.

Will continued to pace, the only thing he could think of to do, a mindless act to make himself feel busy while he was, in fact, useless and helpless until he had a location. His hands shook as he glanced at his phone every few seconds, worried he might not hear Jack call him back. Ten minutes later and he really started to worry, as the fear he felt grew more intense. He grew far too impatient and grabbed his jacket and gun, heading out to his car to start heading toward Frederick's home until he heard back. A few minutes out on the road, his phone rang.

"Hello? What did she say?"

"Beverly tracked his phone to the observatory where we found Miriam Lass' arm. Will, we're sending a team over," Jack said sternly.

"I'm already on my way. I don't care who gets there first, as long as he's safe," Will said, his voice shaking as much as his hands. "As long as he's alive."

Will hung up the phone and set it aside, changing his course to the observatory and changing his speed drastically above the limit. As he drove he started to feel numb but he knew it wasn't really him feeling it. That fact only served to worsen his anxieties and heighten his recklessness. If he got reprimanded for his actions, so be it, but he was going to get there in time.

Another ten minutes later, numbness completely set in around his abdomen, making him feel as if he were incomplete, missing pieces of himself. He felt terrified, an emotion from himself and Frederick both, mingling together to become powerful and nearly paralyzing. He tried not to think about it because there was nothing he could do, he could only drive, so he pushed it all away and focused solely on the dark roads in front of him.

When he finally pulled up in front of the observatory, he found he was the first to arrive on the scene. That did nothing to deter him as he grabbed his gun and jumped out of the car, running his way up the steps and to the door. He started to feel faint and he shouldered the door open but he shook it off. He needed to stay alert and focused so he couldn't allow what Frederick felt affect him. With slow, careful footsteps, he climbed to the top of the observatory where they found Miriam's arm, hearing only his footsteps and his slow, deliberate breaths until he was close to the top. Then he heard a familiar voice, talking harshly to someone else.

"Stay awake, Frederick," the voice chastised. "If you fall unconscious, you might drop everything and then how would you feel, hm?"

Abel Gideon, Will realized, spurning him to charge up the last few steps with his gun up and ready to fire. He turned to the scene pointing the barrel directly at Gideon and opened his mouth to speak, but once he absorbed what was happening, he choked on his words. In front of where Gideon stood, Frederick was laid out on a surgical table. His stomach was cut open and his intestines were hanging out, gathered up in Frederick's own arms. Will wanted to gag but he swallowed that reflex down, trying to keep his hands and aim steady. Upon closer inspection, he saw that Freddie Lounds was also there, sitting at Frederick's head, manually pumping air into Frederick's lungs. He had never been grateful to see her until that very moment.

Gideon held up his blood-covered hands in the pretense of surrender, but the smug look on his face said he had no intention to do so. "Well, Mr. Graham. You weren't invited to this party," he said, carefully watching Will.

Will walked slowly forward, gun trained on Gideon's head, until he stood about ten feet from the table. "Party's over, Gideon. If you don't come with me willingly, I'll have to shoot you." He then turned to look at Freddie, a question on his lips. A part of him already knew the answer because he could feel it, but he needed to hear it to set him at ease. "Is he alive?"

Freddie, looking pale and ill, simply nodded to him, too frightened to speak. Will nodded back, feeling his churning stomach let up slightly, though the sight of Frederick's insides lying in his lap kept him well on edge.

"I just have one question, Mr. Graham. How did you find us? Miss Lounds here hasn't had the time to contact anyone. Both she and the good doctor have their hands a bit full," Gideon said with a smirk.

It required all of Will's restraint not to fire a bullet into his brain then and there. "It doesn't matter how. I found you. It's over."

"Does it, perhaps, have something to do with this?" Gideon said, slowly lowering his hand to grab Frederick's right one, shifting it so that his palm was on display for Will to see the black interlocking circles.

Will clenched his teeth, the muscles in his jaw flexing, but he didn't answer. However, his reaction was all Gideon needed to determine the truth.

"I thought as much," Gideon said with a light sigh. "It was certainly an unexpected complication when I grabbed him from his office. The little birdie whispering in my ear forgot to mention it."

Will froze at his words, his grip on the gun tightening. "Little birdie?"

Gideon tutted at him, shaking his head. "Telling would spoil the surprise."

Will could only think of one person who would do such a thing, who would free Gideon and implant such an idea in his impressionable mind. Hannibal Lecter. As the realization hit him, he nearly didn't notice Gideon reaching down to his tray of surgical instruments. His first instinct was for a lethal shot, but he stopped himself last minute. He needed answers and Gideon was the only one who had them. Instead, he shifted his aim a little to the right and shot Gideon in the arm and shoulder in rapid succession, launching Gideon back into the wall.

Once he was down, Will rushed forward, keeping the gun loosely trained on the injured Gideon as he checked on Frederick. He felt sick as he saw the blood that had leaked over the side and started to pool on the floor. His hands trembled as he reached out and placed his free one on Frederick's forehead, brushing the sweat-soaked hair away. He could see Frederick's eyes moving slightly under his closed eyelids and his heart leapt into his throat as he watched his eyes slowly open and hazily look around.

"Oh god, Frederick," Will said, his voice breaking. "I'm here. I'm here and I'm so sorry. I was so wrong."

Frederick's eyes met his and a small light of recognition flickered there. Will felt a spark of happiness and relief from him as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, not caring that Freddie and Gideon were both watching. He was just happy Frederick was still alive, that he had the chance to stay that way.

"How sweet," Gideon said as he held his bleeding shoulder.

"Shut the fuck up," Will snapped, shaking his gun at him.

Gideon mimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. Will looked from Freddie to Frederick, who looked like he was struggling hard to maintain consciousness.

"Help is on the way," Will said to the both of them. "They should be here any minute, they left not long after I did."

Will kept an anxious watch over all three of them, fighting against the feelings Frederick was leaking through the bond. Fear, drowsiness, weakness, but he was hopeful and that strengthened Will with hope. He held Frederick's forearm just under his elbow, whispering encouraging words until he finally heard the FBI enter the observatory. He heaved a sigh of relief and called out to them as they walked up the stairs.

"BRING IN MEDICAL. THERE'S A MAN IN CRITICAL CONDITION," he said, his voice echoing through the building.

"What about me?" Gideon said in a mocking tone.

"After what you did, I don't care if they leave you here to die," Will hissed as five agents made it to the top of the stairs with the medical team on their heels.

"What happened here?" the first agent on the scene asked after she absorbed all the details in front of her.

"Dr. Abel Gideon escaped from the Baltimore State Hospital and grabbed Dr. Chilton here from his office and brought him here to do this," Will explained quickly. "He told me all of this himself. I don't know why Freddie Lounds is here. I don't really care. Just help him, please."

As the medical team rushed forward, Will knew he had to move out of the way, but he was reluctant to let go of Frederick. He looked down at him and saw his eyes closed again, his chest rising and falling with Freddie's assistance. He gave his arm a tight, comforting squeeze to say he was still there before he let go and allowed those around him to do their work.

They put Gideon on a gurney first, handcuffing him to it, and carried him out. Frederick was a much slower, delicate process because if they made one wrong move, they would lose him forever. Will didn't know what he would do if that happened. He didn't know what it would feel like in his head, what it would feel like to exist without him. He didn't want to know.

He followed them out of the observatory to the ambulance they were carrying Frederick towards while the agents stayed behind to gather evidence and catalog the crime scene. However, the agent who had spoken to him earlier followed him outside, though he barely noticed. Once his adrenaline started to wind down, the gravity of the situation truly hit him, leaving him stunned, his senses dulled like an overused pencil.

"Excuse me, sir, I'm going to need to speak with you," she said in a stern voice.

Will shook his head as he watched them load Frederick into the back of a flashing ambulance. "You can talk to me at the hospital. I have to go."

She reached out and grabbed his arm as he stepped forward. "Sir, please."

He turned on her and ripped his arm free of her. "Special Agent Will Graham. That's my—" He paused as his voice cracked, needing to collect himself before he looked into her dark brown eyes. "That's my boyfriend. I need to be with him."

She seemed to pale a little at his admission and nodded, allowing him to go. He stashed his gun in his car because he knew they wouldn't let him bring it. Once everyone else was settled into the ambulance, he hopped in, sitting on a bench next to a paramedic in a position where he could hold Frederick's arm, using his touch as an anchor but he wasn't sure who the anchor was for. The medics worked simply to keep him alive through the duration of the ride and Will tried not to look at the mess of organs still in Frederick's hands. They'd taken a silver bowl with them that looked like it contained a kidney and possibly an appendix. Will tried exhaustively not to think about it, concentrating instead on sending positive feelings through their bond.

Once at the hospital, Will followed Frederick as far as he could go until a pair of hands grabbed him and directed him to the waiting room. The room was large but sparse. White walls, wooden chairs with green cushions lining them along with matching tables strewn with magazines that Will had no interest in looking at. Only a few other worried looking people populated the room, all deathly silent, and Will joined them, sitting on his own, blending into the scenery as he stared down at his bloody hands in a daze.

He didn't keep track of time as it passed, he simply knew it was passing and knew that no doctors had been out to update him on Frederick's condition. At some point, Will heard the clicking of heels on the tiled floor. He didn't look up, but he saw as the person the heels were attached to walked in front of him and sat down on his left. Her perfume was as good of an identifier as any, a sweet, comforting scent belonging to Alana Bloom. She silently slipped her hand into his and he held it tightly as if without it he would fall away into a black hole beneath him.

She stayed with him for what he presumed to be hours, offering to buy him food, which he declined, and coffee, which he accepted with gratitude. Eventually, a doctor with a clipboard walked out into the waiting room, glancing around the room before laying eyes on Will. He approached them and as he did, Will noticed nothing about him except that he would have information, looking at him without really seeing. Will stood up to meet him as he started to talk.

"You're the one who arrived with Dr. Chilton?" he asked, his voice sounding soothing and mildly concerned as if he practiced the voice he used with relatives of patients in his down time.

Will nodded, not meeting his eyes. "How is he?"

"He's still in critical condition but we've managed to put him back together with the exceptions in the bowl that the paramedics brought with them. People can easily live with just the one kidney, so if he pulls through, that shouldn't be an issue," the doctor said in that same tone. It started to grate on Will's nerves.

"What do you think his chances are?" Will said, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.

"It's hard to determine. He did lose a lot of blood. If he makes it through tonight, I'd say his chances are pretty good."

Will nodded and sat back down. Once the doctor left, he turned to Alana, his eyes glistening from fighting back tears, and she pulled him into a hug. Despite the arms of the chairs between them making it uncomfortable, it was exactly what he needed. Genuine comfort and caring in a world where it seemed so rare to him. In reality, he wanted it to be Frederick. He wanted to be back in his bed that night before the blackout, lying in his arms, but given his current situation, what he had was better than nothing.

"I'm so sorry this happened, Will," she said softly as she ran a hand up and down his back.

Will held her tightly to him for a few more seconds before letting go and sitting back down. "One of the worst things is that this is exactly what I needed to see the truth. Frederick didn't do anything to me. I wish I'd believed him sooner. I'm so stupid."

"None of this is your fault. It's Gideon's fault," Alana said comfortingly.

Will shook his head. "Not just him. This wasn't his idea, he admitted that in the observatory. He didn't say who specifically, but I think I have a pretty good guess."

He looked at Alana with hard determination in his eyes. "You mean Hannibal?"

"I mean Hannibal," Will said without emotion, though he felt anger inside him rising.

"Will, we don't have proof," Alana said, reaching out to grab his arm.

"Not yet, but I'll find it. He's not going to get away with this. Any of it." He paused, turning to Alana. "They'll call, right? If anything changes?"

Alana stood up and nodded. "As long as you left your number with them."

Will nodded before he looked down at his blood crusted hands. He thought of Frederick fighting for his life and he was determined to have justice. He stood and walked off to the hospital's exit, Alana at his heels, as he started to formulate a plan to prove that he was right. He would bring Hannibal Lecter's guilt to light.