How do monsters love?

It was a question Nigel had asked himself from time to time. He wondered if Hannibal ever thought about it at length. The subject matter had never really come up in conversation between. Other people tended to dwell too long on the idea that monsters could love at all, but tended to ignore the other important part of that question, seeing the presence of love was simple enough. Perhaps they even saw it was a cure all.

There in lied the idiocy. Love wasn't a simple concept to begin with. If a cat brought you songbirds with broken necks, what would one think about the presents and the terrible things a monster would do to show its love for another? It would be like hummed out Beethoven's' Moonlight Sonata to someone who was deaf and hoping that they managed to grasp the complexities of it by feeling your throat while you did so.

In their strange case, Hannibal and Nigel had been broken. It had taken years, but they had put themselves back to together piece by piece. The orphanages hadn't the best of places to do so, not when two people were changing so rapidly, becoming vastly different from their peers. After being hollowed out so thoroughly by grief and trauma, something destructive had been put back. Some monsters were born. Others were made.

The end result was that they were killers. An even better one was that they were killers who knew each other better than anyone else in the world, but even that could get lonely. What they had thought to be a fight for ownership over Will was actually a competition for his attention. The end game was his love. The prize was to not be alone.

They had been so blind to the truths behind their own desires. Nigel blamed their sensualist natures and tendencies. Art, music, food, and wine were Hannibal's vices while Nigel's own ran baser with drugs, sex, hard alcohol, and cigarettes. Same coin, same metal but with two very different sides to it.

It was due to his love of physical intimacy that Nigel was a little quicker on the uptake than Hannibal when it came to love who had missed it entirely due to his self-imposed version of solitude. At some point during his mind games with Will, Hannibal had slipped. He'd let his interest in the empathic profiler's unique neuroses change from that of intellectual curiosity to something else, something foreign and strange. While winding Will up to watch him go, Hannibal had inadvertently done the same to himself. It was the driving force behind his determination and uncharacteristically open possessiveness towards Will, though Nigel reasoned he should have guessed.

Hannibal had gone into too much detail about Will in his letters and numerous sketches of the man for this to be some passing flight of fancy. Neither one of them loved lightly, just in distinctive different ways. Knowing that now, it didn't come as a surprise to Nigel that Hannibal was trying to take Will back. It's what he would have done.

"What?"

The word was barely spoken above a whisper, but it was more than enough to remind Nigel that they were not alone in the room and he had no idea what his twin was going to do now, how far he would go or the things that he would do.

This could all every well end in blood still.

OoOoO

Will was pulling himself away from Nigel to better look at Hannibal, to better look at them both. He was still trying to process everything. Nigel was very much here, Nigel was not married, Hannibal had lied, and Hannibal loved him were just a few ingredients in the soup that made up Will's head.

"You…" Will started to say, his heart beating out a strange tempo against its bone cage, echoing the rhythm through his guts. He needed to look. Hiding now would only complicate things more than they already were. Eyes were painful things to look into at the best of times. They were utterly raw with emotions and pain now. "You…love me?"

There was a lot going on here, too much to be ignored. Will looked on but as he did so, he made himself see as well. His pendulum swung at his behest, returning Nigel from which he came, Hannibal's closet. The one whose door had been cracked open. Rope burns on Nigel's neck and wrists told him that the man had been tied up. He let his gaze flutter down, brow furrowing as he turned his attention back to Nigel before pulling away completely to regard them both.

"I don't understand what's going on, but there is shadow play of knives going on behind my back." Will said slowly as he studied Nigel. The man was still dressed in his clothing from yesterday and hadn't been given a chance to clean up, meaning he had been captured and bound probably since this morning. The inflamed corners of his mouth told Will that he had been gagged as well.

"I have been lied to. You have lied to me." Will grieved as he turned his attention back fully to Hannibal. He wished he had not. It only reminded Will that he was standing naked in front of both his lovers with semen from one of them still staining his skin. It wasn't the most ideal way to start an argument, but Will planned on making it work. "You told me that Nigel had gone back to Bucharest to be with his 'wife', who apparently is dead. All the while, you had him tied up in a closet!"

The breath of a second passed before one thought connected to another, letting Will turn the puzzle pieces around to snap them into place. That damn crack in the door, so out of place, especially for Hannibal who couldn't even stand to have a book out of line on his desk, much less a door left ajar.

"You tied up your brother to make him watch us. You planned all this out!" Will grimaced, feeling more than just naked. It was like he had been stripped down to something far baser than his skin. The need to crawl under the blankets or find his discarded clothing was quieted by his growing anger. Now was not the time to look weak.

"Darling, you don't understand. Hanni's just a little confused right now." Nigel tried to soothe, motioning his brother to come closer with a tilt of his head. Hannibal remained were he was, frozen and silently watching them both. The undesired effect it did have was drawing Will's full attention down upon Nigel who actually winced from it. The sort of focus had a weight to it, one that made Nigel shift uncomfortably as he was regarded by keen grey blue eyes.

"Strangely enough, you don't seem too bothered by anything that's happened to you." Will observed. Most people in Nigel's situation would be upset, sobbing, and/or calling the proper authorities. Nigel looked mildly put out because he couldn't find his cigarettes, his hand searching for them from time to time, and completely relaxed scrawled out like a tom cat on Hannibal's bed in his filthy clothing.

"You already know I'm more than a little fucked up. Did you really think Hanni was all that okay?" Nigel chuckled, the sound of it dark and yet still alluring. "He may wear a fine made person suit, but he's just as screwed up as I am, if not more by some societies' standards."

There was a tapping of hooves sounding in Will's mind. He didn't have to turn to know that the ravenstag was in the room with them even if he was the only one who could see it. Looking from one twin to the other, Will got a sinking feeling as the beast passed by Nigel to stand behind Hannibal.

"I told you before, my darling Will. I was there when he made those walls. I know how they got there and why. I also know what he lost the day they were forged, it was the same thing that broke me, darling." Nigel continued, pressing his luck. Hannibal looked grim and surprisingly indecisive of what he should do next. He was obviously waiting for movements on the board complete themselves before he played out his next turn.

"What happened?" Will questioned without hesitation, his eyes locked on Hannibal who stared back with an unreadable expression. He could have been made of stone for all the emotion and movement he emoted.

"What do you think happened, dear one?" Nigel challenged, wanting to see what Will would do and where he would take this. He could see that Hannibal was curious about it too, his silence speaking volumes to him.

"Something that breaks people….no, not people per say. Children." Will's eyes danced back and forth between the twins, gathering and cataloging invisible scarring that a lifetime left behind on a person.

"Accents places you Eastern European, perhaps even Baltic. Take off about forty years places you the Cold War era. You were orphaned at a young age and the local is close enough to Russia when it was formerly the U.S.S.R. at the time so military interference perhaps?" Will was rambling out loud, putting together pieces of information heard and gathered together into a rough time line. "Wars, even cold ones, make people desperate. Drives them to take desperate measures, even ones that might have an ill effect on children."

You're so fucking clever. I see why Hannibal became addicted to you. Yes, my love. Something wicked and vile and cruel." Nigel rasped out, pushing air through his teeth to make it whistle. Will truly was a gift.

"What happened?" Will questioned without hesitation, his eyes locked on Hannibal.

"We lost someone. Someone important. Irreplaceable. " Nigel supplied, Hannibal had yet to move. He regarded Will with a cool look, the man scaling his towering walls to finally reach their peak and see what lay beyond them. He was earning the right to do so. "We lost everything to void, ruin, and blood, included ourselves. We came out the other side of it…changed."

Will swallowed, wondering how far he could push these two for answers. Even Nigel was becoming guarded. Whatever had happened to the twins was sensitive enough to make the violent psychopath hesitant to talk about it.

"We were young. We were all so young, the two of us and Mischa…" Nigel trailed off, even after daring to voice her name. Hannibal stirred at her mention.

You have a sister?" Will asked before he caught on how cruel that question was. Despite other's opinion on the matter, empathy was not psychic ability.

"We had a sister." Nigel corrected softly, making Will flinch at the pain the admittance caused the brothers.

"She was taken from us in a most savage manner." Hannibal said, startling Will by finally joining the conversation. His words were as dead as the little girl he spoke of, the usually charismatic voice numb with something that went beyond just grief and remained unnamed in its severity. "And given back just as savagely."

"So we took what we could back." Nigel smiled, the expression wicked and cold. "An eye for an eye…"

"…Blood for blood…" Hannibal added without missing a beat.

"…We got back our pound of flesh and then some." Nigel said, seamlessly picking up where Hannibal left off.

It was two voices speaking in tandem as one, the two sides of the same coin flipping and spinning through air so no side could be pinned down until it landed.

"I get the distinct feeling that you two are not speaking figuratively." Will said slowly, wishing that he was wrong for once.

"I told you already, darling. The people I kill usually deserve it." Nigel said, confirming Will's fear.

"If Nigel's a killer, what does that make you?" Will asked Hannibal. The man smiled back in answer causing the world to shatter all around Will as a mask was taken off just enough so that Will could peek behind it. He stared into the abyss and it looked back at him with unblinking eyes.

There was profile that lived in Will's brain, placed there by Jack in hopes of catching a killer. Will crawled inside madmen's head to live there for a short while, a visit at best for most. An exceptions to this was Garrett Jacobs Hobbs. The other who was far more pronounced was the Chesapeake Ripper whose mind was not just some pit stop on the road to insanity. The Ripper was its own country and Will lived there, always carrying a piece of the killer with him like Dracula with his bit of earth.

The raven stag pawed the ground and tossed its head, its antlers whipping blood about to fall upon Hannibal like strange rain. "See?" the beast whispered, its voice that of a very dead Garrett Jacob Hobbs. "See?"

And Will saw.

The void shifted itself, parting to let in the light of creation and undoings as a universe unfolded itself within Will's mind. His gifted mind hurled him forward like a comet through it, skimming through blood mist nebulas and stars made out of winter's chill and bone. Two suns existed there, equal and balanced between a black hole where a third had once been. As its explorer, Will was just beginning to appreciate its constellations and the stories of their creation.

To Will, Nigel made the most sense, his motivations simple and his violent heart worn on his sleeve. His obsessive desire was a tangible thing now to observe. Will knew now he never stood a chance of ridding himself of the man, the idea of his leaving a laughable concept. If it ever came down to brass tacks, Nigel would follow him to the grave if need be.

In all fairness though, neither of the twins would. Hannibal's sense of possession ran just as deep only in an entirely different direction, one that Will had not been privy to until now. At least consciously, the empath realized, watching as the ravenstag sunk itself into Hannibal like it was a part of him.

"One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just doesn't belong." Will sang more to himself than to the twins, not realizing he had done so until it was too late. He was keeping good company though for doing crazy things. Will didn't think he would be judged too harshly by them for his little outbursts. Nigel was an open work of violence and ill intent, but that didn't explain Hannibal, at least not the Hannibal Will had come to know and trust.

The jump Will's mind made right there and then left him breathless as his gaze shifted from the rope burns on Nigel's wrists to Hannibal's carefully blank face. Violent tendencies, medical profession with a surgical background whispered a murderer's profile while other parts fired back excellent cook and artist. Traumatic childhood, controlling, and possessive the voices spoke in tandem together. Fingers were being pointed in the dark, their directionality becoming apparent.

The sad part was that Will's mind had already fit together the puzzle, filling the missing pieces by carving out its own. The scales were falling from Will's eyes like strange snow, allowing Will to see just what and who Hannibal was.

"One of these things is the Chesapeake Ripper." Will licked his too dry lips with a stale tongue. Fear was taking its toll. There was always a price to pay. "But what is the other?"

"And what does this Ripper do?" Nigel pressed giving Hannibal a sideways look for his unofficial title. The good doctor shrugged back. He hadn't named himself, and personally thought it lacked flair and a certain sophistication. "What need does he serve by killing?"

"He harvests organs." Will said softly. He wanted to look away, but it couldn't. It would have been wrong.

"No. That is only the action of what I do. Why do I need to do it?" Hannibal said the words, killing parts of Will slowly with their particular song.

"The Ripper kills in sounders of three to four in quick order." Will began to choke. He swallowed down his trepidation to make his voice stop shaking. This needed to be done. Certain truths needed to be said aloud. It was the only way to make them real, at least to Will.

"Do you know why?" Nigel cooed, grinning. Will wanted to reach over and smack him. He looked far too happy for anyone else's continued good health.

"I know why. If you wait too long…the meat spoils. They're no better to you than pigs." Will told Hannibal, trying very carefully not to think about the meals he had shared with the monster pretending to be a man. He swallowed back the bile that suddenly burned his throat. He was fucking the Chesapeake Ripper and his violent psychotic twin brother, both of which had an immeasurable possessive streak. Wonderful. This would be the police report to end all police reports. The way his day was going perhaps he could apprehend them during a blow job.

"Do you eat people too?" Will asked almost casually, casting a glance over to Nigel who shrugged. He could almost pretend that this was a normal conversation. He was good at pretending.

"Me? Not actively. Only when visiting Hanni." Nigel shrugged, really wishing that Hannibal hadn't taken his damn smokes. "It's not generally my meat of choice, but you develop a bit of a taste for it. All meat is murder and murder is fucking delicious."

There was dark humor to his words, sparking something in the doctor to have him tilt his head in that ever familiar way while considering the profiler. Will visibly cringed, a vision of having his flesh torn away from his body by teeth he had already felt sink between layers of skin. The thought of it made his flesh crawl.

"You appear to be taking this news very well, Will." Hannibal observed, approaching the bed at last, but taking no seat upon it to join Nigel. "Why is that?"

"I don't know. Still processing it perhaps. I'm not sure where I stand at the moment. The whole people thing is mildly disconcerting." Will answered honestly in a dry tone. He was feeling a bit weak in the knees so Will decided to falling back onto the comfortable bed. If they wanted to kill him, they'd have to ruin Hannibal's bed while doing so. He wouldn't stand a chance against the two of them if that was indeed the plan in mind. So he might as well be comfy the last few seconds of his life.

"Only mildly disconcerting?" Nigel snickered to earn himself a look from Hannibal. Yes, he understood that this was a delicate moment, but he had faith in Will that the man was made of sterner stuff than most gave him credit for.

"Maybe I am just tired? I'm getting sick of life pulling the rug out from under my feet whenever I try to reach for pretty things." Will sighed, ignoring them both for the moment. He was either in the safest place he could be or the worst. Only time would tell.

"I think a bath would be the most therapeutic thing for everyone at the moment." Hannibal announced, taking control now that concerns were beginning to settle down.

"Therapeutic? As in you can't stand for us filthy heathens to be on your bed, and you wants us to go clean up?" Will arched a brow. He couldn't resist rubbing himself against the bed. It earned him a grin from Nigel who did roughly the same thing.

It got both of them glares from Hannibal.

OoOoO
TBC