He wonders if it's because their soulmates that Will feels betrayal trailing behind him like a train. And it adds onto a wedding gown of miscommunication that really should be resolved before his relationship develops even further. He wonders briefly if Hannibal has ever made human flesh flowers and if he'd make Will a bouquet. The thought is immediately scrapped as he continues his morning ritual.

The dogs are running amongst the unkempt grass and he smiles at their happy yips and playful nature. Dogs were so much easier to understand than people. That's not entirely true for Will; he always understands people, too much most of the time. It's just his luck that he suddenly doesn't seem to be able to understand where Hannibal is coming from.

But that's also untrue. Will does understand why Hannibal wants to wait for the game to play out. He understands the macabre entertainment it is to watch a killer think he can somehow take down the apex predator. As if he has an actual chance. It's amusing, to watch a killer claw their way up to the king's throne and throw his gauntlet down only to be defeated in a single blow. To Hannibal, they're similar to a sheep trying to learn to be the shepherd only to be put down when it proves to try and take over the shepherd's role. He understands all too well.

It's becoming increasingly difficult for Will to convince himself that he has to be the voice of reason. He has to be the one who tries to follow the rules. He bites his tongue when some of his fellow investigator's shoulder pass him like spoilt children. He feels his blood practically boil every time he spots Freddie Lounds, and secretly wonders if Hannibal would plate her meat with orange lilies and orange mocks in honor of her flaming hair and the loathing they both share for the woman.

Maybe he doesn't have to be the one on the straight and narrow, but he'd have to if he didn't want to risk Hannibal somehow being caught. And maybe it was still some moral obligation that Jack had drilled into his very being, that Will was useful and Jack knew the right buttons and strings to pull to have Will going along, if a bit reluctantly. There will be a time where Will can safely accept the darkness that is now cradled within his heart, nurtured and fueled from years of watching Hannibal's kills through their shared eye and his experience with the murder of Nicolas Boyle. Until then, he has to follow the rules of not only his job, but Jack's as well.

The betrayal isn't as sharp after he'd admitted that to himself. He whistles sharply to call the dogs back to the house so he can get ready to head to Tobias' shop. He doesn't dwell any further on what Hannibal's reaction to Will ending his serial killer playdate will be, but he thinks he can find a way to make it up to him.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Chordophone String Shop is a quaint little shop nestled delicately in an unsuspecting neighborhood in Baltimore, Maryland. The shop is warm, but not enough to cause a person to sweat, just enough to make the eyelids droop. The instruments are all strategically placed for not only for easy access but to allow each one to shine on its own. If he wasn't here for a job, Will thinks he could have stayed a while just browsing the shop.

As it is, Will feels slight trepidation run down his spine as he enters the shop. He hears the sounds of a bow sliding across the strings before he sees Tobias. The man is looking calmly at them as he puts down his instrument, as if two officers and the man he'd seen at the opera hadn't come into his shop.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Tobias asked.

Will nods his head. "We're investigating the death of Douglas Wilson," Will said, "He was-"

"The trombonist." Will's eyes narrow at the other man. "I hear someone cut his throat and tried to play it with a bow." The man is terrible at hiding the reverence in his voice at the statement.

"Why do you say tried?"

Tobias gives him a haughty look and Will takes a moment to thank whatever higher being up there that Hannibal hasn't given him that look yet. He doubts Hannibal would like being in a dog house. "The strings have to be treated," Tobias said, grabbing a roll of string from the shelf. "You can't just open somebody up and draw a bow across their innards and expect to produce a sound."

Will bares his teeth in a mockery of a smile. "The vocal chords were chemically treated," Will practically snarls, and he sees the officers' shift out of the corner of his eye. "Similar to how catgut string is treated. We kept those details out of the press." Will is aware that he is becoming increasingly sardonic with Tobias as time goes on, but the man is practically digging his own grave.

But just like Hannibal, Tobias seems to have plenty of experience playing information off as something else. "I don't make catgut strings, but I understand the process. Mine are imported from Italy." Tobias gives him a look and hands Will the roll of string. "The best catgut is."

Will barks out a humorless laugh. "More authentic?"

"Yes," Tobias said, sweeping his gaze across the instruments in the room before settling back on the string in Will's hand. "A richer, darker sound. Allows music to say what words can't."

It's almost as bad as Hannibal's cannibal puns, but Will manages to not react. Will goes to continue to his line of questions until he hears his phone chime from his pocket. He curses quietly as he reaches into his pocket to find the thing. "I'll be back in a moment, officers feel free to continue asking for information," Will said, as he moved towards the door to take his conversation outside. He feels a bit guilty for asking them to do something that's not really their line of work, but he can't let his phone go to voicemail in case it's Jack.

The winter air nips at his nose as he pulls out his phone. "Hello, this is Will Graham," he said.

"Hello William."

Will feels his breath hitch slightly before he lets out a sigh. "Hannibal."

"I believe I asked you to let the game play out." The words are flat and Will knows that Hannibal is more than a bit annoyed.

"And I never said I would. Hannibal, this is my job and until a time comes where we can safely do this, we're following the rules."

Hannibal is silent for a moment, probably ruminating on the 'we' of his statement. "I've never been caught before."

Will almost laughs at how petulant the man sounds on the phone. "Well then think of it as me upping the ante of this game."

"William, where are you?"

"In a neighboring lion's den. If I do this right, he should come to you. I'm well aware you've probably been in contact with him, which we're going to discuss later by the way."

"Are you sure you should be doing that alone?" Will knows that Hannibal has faith in him, but Hannibal also knows that Will has never participated in a seemingly solo hunt.

"I'll be fine, there are two officers with-" Will hears a faint thump from inside. "Maybe one officer now. Look I have to go, you'll probably see your pet project soon."

"Be safe, dear Will."

Will nods his head, even though Hannibal can't see it. "I will. Be prepared, he'll be riled up by the time he gets to you."

"I'll make it look like self-defense if that's what you're asking," Hannibal said, his amusement almost palpable.

Will quickly said goodbye before hanging up his phone and walking back into the shop, holding the bell so it doesn't make any noise. The shop is too quiet now and Will pulls out his gun before moving deeper into the shop. He spots one officer lying in a pool of his own blood, the endpin sticking through his throat. The sight reminds Will of a pinned butterfly. He pulls out his phone and hurriedly calls for ERT and gives them the details. He hears noises coming from deeper in the shop and quickly stands up to investigate.

The basement is the exact opposite of the shop. It's cramped and cluttered and almost cold enough for Will to see his own breath. The chemicals burn his nose, but he steadily moves forward. The walls are covered with what can only be jarred intestines and he sees a few of the intestines hanging out to dry. He takes only a moment to observe the drying intestines before he feels wire come against his hands. If his hands weren't already at eye-level from where he was leaning down, he knows that Tobias would have successfully managed to strangle him.

Will struggled with the wire and felt it cut into his hands with no mercy. Gritting his teeth, Will wiggled his hands enough to be able to aim the gun behind him. He hopes that it doesn't go through the other man's head as he fires the shot. The sound is absolutely deafening and he feels his ears throb as the sound bounces off the walls. He feels something warm hit the back of his neck and suddenly the wire has loosened its hold. When he manages to turn around he catches a glimpse of Tobias scrabbling up the stairs and Will fires another couple of shots at the man out of spite.

It's Hannibal's turn to play now.

Orange Mock: "You're a liar." Orange Lily: "I hate you."