A/N: Hello, people!

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Having dinner at Hannibal's with Jack there was the most awkward affair in the world. It was so difficult to be yourself and to pretend that everything was fine. And having to do so because of an extra guest was like someone had told Will that they were taking Godiva away.

She was a cute little thing and certainly very important to him.

The dinner went by, Will having provided the meat from his fishing expedition from earlier in the day. He had enough to last him a while should he decide not to go shopping for a few weeks.

After Jack was gone, the two simply sat around, talking of the most recent murder and how someone had been found inside a horse.

Beverly had come to Wolf Trap and had shown Will the photos, which were gruesome. And it was unnerving to realize that a full sized human could fit inside of a horse.

"I'm going with Beverly tomorrow, to see the stables," Will said.

"And are you going to be joining the FBI again?"

"Just Beverly. I owe her that."

The next round of therapy came quickly. Hannibal too had been bought in to help Jack build a profile.

The killer had a strange form of thinking. The dead giving birth to the dead which had housed the living.

"Are you certain you wish to keep helping the FBI in any way? The last time it nearly destroyed you."

Will scoffed, "The last time, you nearly destroyed me. Let's call it like it is, Hannibal. The three people in this building all know what happened and I highly doubt anyone else is going to listen to what two of us have to say."

Hannibal frowned then, "Even after everything that happen-"

"Don't... try my patience, Hannibal," Will scowled. "You may have to pretend and really it'd be foolish to just admit out loud what you've done, but I don't have to put on airs or pretend, because I remember all of it, Hannibal. To deny me this insults my intelligence. You don't need to verify anything, but denial is not going to win you my favor."

Hannibal met his eyes and for several moments, they stared at one another, until the doctor finally gave a slow nod. "I suppose you are… correct. And no, you don't have to pretend with me. Never with me."

That was Hannibal's way of saying that he'd always be the one who understood Will to the fullest. That when others repudiated him or didn't understand or even want to understand, Hannibal would be there and he'd know better than anyone else ever could. Better than even Kailani.

"I prefer sins of omission to outright lies. Remember that, Hannibal. Don't. Lie. To me."

"Would you return the courtesy?" asked Hannibal, lips twitching. "Why have you resumed your therapy?"

Will's humor returned and the air in the office lightened up quote a bit. "Many reasons. I can't just go to other psychiatrists about what's going on up here, it'd be much too risky."

"True. Tell me, Will. Have you fantasized about killing me?"

Will's lips pulled apart, revealing two rows of white teeth that no doubt looked predatory along with the look in his eyes. "A lot, actually."

"And how would you do it?" the man asked, sounding just slightly breathless.

A test. How far had Will come from before the BSHCI?

Will smirked, "With my hands."

He had fantasized many times in the hospital but all of them seemed to fall short. None of them were done personally. A knife, a gun, a car. Nothing had felt right.

"Then it seems that we have yet to move past apology and forgiveness."

"Heh, we've moved past a lot of things, Hannibal. If you want forgiveness, you'll have to earn it."

Smitten he may be, but easy he was not. The shine in Hannibal's eyes was telling enough. A challenge for one such as Hannibal. A game. Rarely did the monster in the person suit ever have such a game to play.

"I… need to know if you're going to try to kill me again, Will."

Will shook his head, "Oh Dr. Lecter, I don't want you dead." Far from it, actually. Suffering however, all on point. "Not now that I've finally found you interesting."

Hannibal's answering grin was enough to bring them out of the heavy atmosphere.

Will knew what it was like to worry more for the animal than the person who had been killed. Will connected with animals better than he did with most people so he couldn't fault the poor man for feeling for the bird and horse and not the dead girl.

Hell, Beverly had felt for him too. An injury to the head from a kick by a horse had left him a little delicate and when under heavy duress, he became weak, terrified, and unable to communicate. Peter was a fine person, he was just a little lost.

The social worker knew nothing - or so he claimed - and there was no reason to keep him in custody despite the fact that he gave Will a bad feeling.

Still though, Hannibal volunteered to take them both to see Peter once again, to see if he knew anything else.

Hannibal thought Peter and Will shared the same darkness but it wasn't that simple. Will was far deeper than Peter was and he was alone.

"You're not alone, Will. I'm standing right beside you."

Hannibal was so eager to be the one Will needed, it was… odd and endearing just a bit.

By the end of the night, Will wished he had shot Clark Ingram in the head. The bastard.

Doing bad things to bad people makes you feel good.

If only Hannibal knew.

On another note, who holds someone like that?!

What friend does that?

What kind of friends touch each other like that? Excluding what he and Kailani did that one time of course. And the fact that Will kind of sort of wanted to get in Hannibal's pants after he worked for his forgiveness.

Who just holds someone by the nape of the neck and stares into their eyes like that?

Kailani was squealing, kicking her feet in the air. "I can't believe he did it and you didn't get a picture!"

"How would I have gotten one? And wouldn't that be creepy?" Will asked, thinking about the hold Hannibal had had him in and wondering just how he'd explain the fact that he had to take a picture of it.

"Don't even act like you didn't enjoy it."

He did.

Fuck.

"He's reeling you in like a fish. Fight back, dammit! Grope him without groping him if you get what I mean."

Will flushed at the demand. He'd never groped anyone before and he certainly wasn't going to start. Though the visual it gave him was pleasant. How would Hannibal react to sexual overtures from Will, the guy he wanted to be friends with?

"Will, I swear he'd love it," Kailani said with surety.

He really needed to watch when he spoke aloud. Liquor was doing him a disservice.

"Anyway, any reason for the sudden shopping trip?" Kailani asked, staring at their large collection of bags that they'd gotten in the past few hours. "I mean, I'm glad to now have some maternity clothing, but this was unexpected."

"I bought a trench coat and burberry scarf and well… I kind of liked the way Hannibal looked at me when he saw my newer clothing," Will admitted with a flush. "And they make me feel... attractive. I don't usually see myself as such, so it's nice to feel good."

"Will, you are attractive, don't forget it. Clothes - while nice to use for accentuating - only go so far. You're hot with them, you're hot without them. If Hannibal doesn't want you either way... I'll eat my child."

"I am so done with cannibal jokes."

"It's only because he tells such bad ones," she giggled.

He had to concur.

"Anyway, I also noticed that he bought you some new aftershave for Christmas and that you actually wear it," she said, teasing just slightly but happy that her idiots were finally getting on again.

Will flushed, "It smells a lot better than what I'd been getting."

"And it makes Hannibal preen knowing that you listen to his subtle hints and requests, I know how it is. You like it when he's proud of you."

"Yes," Will admitted. "I do."

Margot Verger had a sort of style that Kailani could appreciate. Kailani also appreciated the woman's beauty but that was neither here nor there.

"Are you feeling better?" Kailani asked, noting that the cast that Margot had formerly been wearing in her last two sessions, wasn't there anymore. She looked better with use of both arms and seemed less tense, if only a little bit.

Margot frowned, but did give a stiff nod. "I guess as good as I can be."

"Well your arm is working again so that's got to be better at least."

"I suppose." Margot shifted on the sofa. "Listen, I was wondering if you could tell me your opinion on Dr. Lecter's... methods."

Kailani scoffed, sipping at her tea. "Dr. Lecter has different methods for different clients. It really depends on what your situation is and what you may need help with."

Margot looked away, mouth pursed. "I met Will Graham the last time I was here. I heard about what happened to him and how he blamed Dr. Lecter for it, yet he still comes around here. Sees Dr. Lecter despite what he thinks was done to him by the man.

Some would wonder what kind of therapy occurred between them, for Will Graham to be so incensed yet so intent on returning."

Kailani eyed Margot carefully, thoughtfully. "Let's just say that what Will claimed Hannibal did, isn't too far from the truth."

Margot didn't even blink. She merely smirked, "No wonder he's so blase over the fact that I tried to kill my brother. Or the fact that he told me it would be more therapeutic to do it."

Seriously, Hannibal just went around telling clients that it was okay for them to kill people because it made them feel better? She had to seriously wonder if he had ever done his job properly.

Most people would be ratting him out by now, but Kailani was sure she didn't have proof. Will wouldn't vouch for her and if Margot was there still, she hadn't told anyone either. Then there was the cold, heartless part of Kailani that just didn't give a fuck. So long as her friends were okay, she didn't care what Hannibal did, though she knew that she should.

"I guess we can agree that Dr. Lecter prefers unorthodox therapy. And seeing as you've come in for every one of your appointments, I'd say you approve of them to an extent."

The stylish woman grinned, "I guess so."

When Margot Verger departed the office that evening, she left a piece of paper on Kailani's desk. The secretary laughed when she finally got a good look at it.

575-7755

Call me.

Will was perched on the front of Hannibal's desk as they both discussed the newest serial killer. Will wasn't particularly interested in them because it was simply a man thinking he was an animal. No real emotions tying him to the case.

Beverly had come in with a very small file and pictures of the crime scene. It had been easy to deduce that while it looked like an animal attack, it had simply been a suit. A man in a suit to be precise. Will was familiar with the concept that serial killers had masks. Hannibal had a suit though it wasn't for killing. His suit made him appear more human to mask his darkness from others. A perfect person suit. A perfect disguise.

This person was the opposite yet similar. He felt that he was an animal and that his skin was the suit. So in order to feel more like himself, he fashioned a suit to better fit his outer image of himself.

His instincts were even much like an animal's.

Hannibal joined him, sitting not even a foot away on the edge of the desk. Neither turned to look at the other, overly aware of each other's presence without the need of visual aid.

Could he envision tearing someone apart with his hands? Yes. In fact, while in prison, Will had thought about doing so to Hannibal. It was only one of the few murder scenarios that he had managed to dream up, that felt right.

Hannibal asked if he would use his hands or if he'd prefer a gun. Thinking back on it, Will decided that guns just weren't the proper method where Hannibal was involved. If he was to ever kill Hannibal, he would do it with his hands. It only seemed fitting.

"Guns lack intimacy," he decided.

"You said that you fantasized about killing me with your hands. Tell me, was it the best option?" asked Hannibal. "You'd prefer to use such an intimate practice on me, instead of hiding?"

Will bristled at the comment. Not that part about using intimate action on Hannibal, no that had made his spine tingle just slightly. No, it was the hidden accusal. The small insult that Hannibal had covered. Calling him a coward because his intent the first time was to use the only weapon he could get his hands on.

"I wasn't hiding from anything when I tried to kill you."

"You were hiding… behind the gun."

Will looked over, catching Hannibal's eye and holding his stare evenly. "Would you like me to attempt again? I'm sure I can be rather open with my hands this time. I'm sure you'd like the intimacy as much as I would."

Hannibal's dark eyes flashed with emotion, though his face remained passive. His voice however, was heated. "You must allow yourself to be intimate with your instincts, Will. Should your instincts lead you down that path, I can only hope that you would follow them, instead of burying them and hiding away.

You are so much more than you know, Will. I want you to fully appreciate yourself, the way I appreciate you."

Will scoffed, "More like you just want me to accept the fact that I like killing bad people. That it makes me feel good and that there is no shame in it. You're a bad person… and yet I don't think I'd enjoy your demise as much as I did Hobbs'."

"A bad person according to what definition?" asked the former surgeon.

"Shall I enumerate the various things you do that make you a bad person?"

"I assume we're going by your own definition then, as you feel so heated about this line of discussion," Hannibal said, standing and moving to take his usual chair. He looked up expectantly and Will sighed, taking his own seat across from the blond.

"Well, you knew I had Encephalitis and you got Sutcliffe to keep quiet. You didn't tell me I was ill. You exacerbated my illness with your unconventional therapy. You then killed five people and let me take the blame for it. I was stuck under Chilton's 'care' for almost a month because of you. You shoved an ear down my throat. You even let Abel Gideon go after Alana while lying to me during a seizure. Finally, you fed me long pig without my consent. So yes, I would consider you a rather bad person."

"You are… bitter I see."

Will's derisive snort made Hannibal's frown darken.

"However, I did notice that all issues you have with involve you and my actions toward you, not others. Not once did you mention my favorite pastime. In fact, I'm certain it doesn't bother you in the least. You instead, are offended by what you perceive to be a betrayal." Hannibal cocked a brow as if daring him to compete.

"It was betrayal, Hannibal," asserted Will. "You may not think it was because you had this great idea in mind once you decided that you weren't going to kill me off and eat me, but it doesn't work that way. Your whole mentality revolves around 'my way or the highway' and that doesn't fly in reality. You thought your way to go about it was best and I can think of four others that would have been much better to do and ensured that I wasn't bitter with you in the end.

I like you, I really do. I admire you. But I will not forget what you did and if you want me to forgive you, you'll will get on your knees and beg. And as I know you very well - certainly much better than anyone else does - I know that your pride will be on the line with it."

"I was doing it for you, Will."

"You know, Bedelia told me that you really believe that what you did was for my benefit and maybe to a small extent it was, but that's not enough. My best interests aside, your way was terrible," groused Will.

He shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other and fixing Hannibal with his stormy stare.

"If I suddenly decided that it would be in your best interest for you to be in prison where you could no longer fill your body with your favorite type of meat, simply because I thought it was harming you and therefore you needed to stop, how would you feel? How would you feel if you learned that the man you trusted and cared for was working behind your back to take away something precious to you? That while his concern for you was nice and all, his methods were lacking or they weren't even in the right?

How would you feel if I decided that your life would be better off without me and I killed myself because I was under some misguided notion, and I thought it would be best for you? Without consulting you. Without telling you why. I just did it because my way was the best way despite the fact that you didn't agree?" asked Will imploringly. He needed for Hannibal to understand.

Hannibal was silent, staring at him in the most open manner Will had ever seen. Hannibal was usually so closed off and unmovable that it was rare to see him being so open with his emotions.

Kailani had been so sure that he'd done Will a disservice through his actions. She'd told him that his actions weren't something that one does to a friend. He didn't want to believe it, because he knew that Will would be beautiful and deadly once he accepted himself and his full potential. But Will's words just then.

'How would you feel if I decided that your life would be better off without me and I killed myself because I was under some misguided notion, and I thought it would be best for you?'

He did not like that idea. His life was at it's pinnacle with Will beside him. He'd never been so engaged or interested in another before. Had never broached the thought of friendship before Will. To think that Will could ever possibly think of himself as a negative influence on Hannibal and would kill himself by thinking it was the best plan he had, was painful.

Until then, he'd truly thought his plan had been best for Will. But perhaps… he'd gone a little overboard.

"You felt abandoned and betrayed while in the Baltimore State Hospital," Hannibal said, merely verifying what he knew, aloud for Will's benefit. So that Will knew that he understood.

Hannibal was not in the habit of being merciful nor was he ever confronted with the feeling of guilt. At least, not since Mischa. But… he could at least admit on some primitive level, that some of the things he'd done did not help Will in the least.

"I never enjoyed the pain you were in," he admitted, hoping that Will would believe him.

"I know," came the softly spoken reply.

"I thought it was the best. It was either that, or kill you when you knew too much and I couldn't kill you, Will. Not you."

"It most certainly wasn't the best option you had, but considering who you are, I can assume that you'd never considered other options before, so I can't completely fault you. You've been as lonely as me, Hannibal. Sure you have parties and go to the opera and cater to the upper crust of Baltimore, but those people don't know you. Having to accommodate another person, someone you actually want in your life, is difficult. I know, I felt the same with you when you weedled your way inside me and planted yourself so deep that it's impossible to remove you. You've never had to really think of another's well being before and while I understand you and what you wanted to achieve, it doesn't mean you can continue on without there being repercussions."

Will, who did not like to make eye contact with anyone, was looking at Hannibal with strong intent. His meaning was heard and understood and no matter how much Hannibal wished he wasn't at least partially in the wrong, he was not one to deny truth no matter how offensive it was.

Hannibal was fascinated and amazed by Will. Wanted Will to be his and only his. Will liked him in return, in the exact same ways, despite his feelings and hurt in regards to Hannibal's actions.

And Hannibal found himself wanting Will's forgiveness. And Will had told him what he'd need to do in order to receive it. Lower himself to the lowest. Admit his mistake. Push aside his ego and his pride in order to verbally acknowledge what he did and to ask for forgiveness.

Forgiveness was one of the most difficult gifts a human could give. An apology even more so. Admitting your mistakes and faults was embarrassing. Revealing your weakened pride to someone was revolting. But Hannibal wanted Will to trust him. To feel that he could come to Hannibal with anything. Everything. But his trust was frayed and he would never truly be Hannibal's if Hannibal did not relinquish his control and just apologize.

With as much control as he could manage, Hannibal stood from his chair and carefully approached Will, whose own head craned upward to continue looking him in the eye. Following Will's demand, Hannibal genuflected himself before the man he considered to be his friend, placing warm hands on either side of Will's hips as he leaned into the brunet's personal space.

Will's stormy, blue eyes widened at the intimacy of the act and a small flush wound up his neck. Hannibal was pleased to know that it was because of him.

"William, I'm sorry for the pain I caused you. I never wanted you to suffer, I simply thought I was helping you. I regret that you had to be imprisoned for a while, but I felt it was better than killing you. I didn't want to. I still don't. I can't kill you, Will. I'm sorry that I wasn't the model friend you wanted. I'm sorry I framed you for the deaths and that I let you think you killed Abigail."

Will's breathing stuttered at the mention of her name and Hannibal felt a stab of jealousy at how much Will cared for someone else. But… it had been a part of the plan.

Hannibal reached out, loosening Will's fingers, which had been digging into the upholstery of the chair. He cradled the man's hands in his and sighed. Apparently, it was time for revelation to come early.

"Will, Abigail isn't dead."

And Hannibal watched, enraptured as Will's mind processed the words.

"Wh-what?"

Hannibal nodded, "I have her… safe. I… I wanted to surprise you."

Emotions warred within Will's blue eyes. Shock was evident, though quickly followed up by disbelief and then anger. Those eyes narrowed, looking over Hannibal's face, as if trying to uncover a lie in Hannibal's words. A lie that wasn't there. When Will realized that Hannibal wasn't joking… his eyes began to tear up, taking on a vulnerable sheen. Finally, he settled into a mixture of relief and acceptance, allowing himself to cry the tears blocking his vision.

Hannibal leaned back a bit when Will pulled his hands away. He was prepared to stand, to give Will his space, when the ex-profiler calmly grabbed onto Hannibal's face and slotted their mouths together in a soft kiss that barely registered on Hannibal's nerves it was so light.

And in that moment, Hannibal knew he'd been forgiven.

A/N: Another is done.

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