While totally unintentional on Abigail's part, the trip to see King Lear had turned into something of a family outing for the older members of the Lecter clan. Beverly, Reba and Alana had taken the twins and Sebastian for the night at the House and, while he itched to be with his baby, an evening away would be good for Will. He trusted his friends to take care of his three pups and knew Hannibal quietly delighted in showing his omega off. When Abigail had asked to see the play she probably should have expected her papa to book a box for them rather than sitting them with the peasants; it had given her an excuse to wear the lovely black dress Hannibal had bought her though while her fathers had donned their tuxedos. Marissa looked a little lost, like she'd not quite realized just how rich Hannibal truly was. Psychiatry really was a lucrative profession if one played their cards correctly, helped the man was quite literally Lithuanian nobility as well.

Both Will and Hannibal had pretended not to overhear the girls when Marissa had quietly questioned what was around Will's neck and the subsequent explanation of an omega collar and what it meant. Sometimes it seemed like betas were a totally different species to alphas and omegas, they'd invented marriage as a makeshift mating, wedding rings were a copy of omega collars and yet betas hardly seemed aware of any of it.

When the house lights had gone down and the play begun Hannibal had glanced to his mate and daughter, it was nice for them to do something as a family that didn't involve the House. Besides, experiencing a little culture was beneficial for everybody.

A few hours passed with the group in silence save for the occasional shuffle as they shifted in their chairs, and Hannibal had to admit the actor playing Edmund had a real talent for bringing the character to life. Then, as it always did, the intermission came and everyone ventured out in search of drinks, chatter or just the restrooms. Marissa and the Lecters had gone for the former two which was where the Komedas found them and quickly pulled them into conversation.

"I might have known we'd run into you here, Hannibal." Missus Komeda grinned while her husband stood quietly beside her as usual. "Hello again, Will, and what a pleasure it is to see Abigail here. I'm afraid I don't know your friend."

Etiquette said Abigail should have done the introductions but Marissa simply shook Missus Komeda's hand and introduced herself.

"Marissa Schurr. I go to school with Abigail. Doctor Lecter was kind enough to invite me along this evening, and I'm very grateful he did, the play is excellent. Your the author, right? I recognize you from your book covers."

"That's me, my dear, recognized for my sins." The older woman's red lipstick pulled her lips into a dramatic smile before turning to Will clearly done with Marissa now her ego had been stroked. "News travels fast, I hear there is a new Lecter. Congratulations. You simply must tell me the name, you and Hannibal chose such beautiful names for your twins."

"Sebastian." Will supplied. "His name is Sebastian."

"Oh, how suave and elegant."

A blond alpha in his early twenties made his way up to the Komedas then and handed over a glass of red wine which earned a hum of gratitude from the beta woman. She paused a moment to take a sip before gesturing to the blond.

"This is Anders Corvene, he's my nephew." Yes, Hannibal vaguely remembered her mentioning a nephew once before – something about him being handsome and smart if he recalled correctly. "Anders, these are Doctor Hannibal Lecter, his mate Will, their daughter Abigail and her friend."

The blond alpha flashed each of them a smile though his eyes lingered on Abigail a moment. "A pleasure to meet you all. My aunt has mentioned you before, Doctor Lecter. I must say, I am rather a fan of your time as a surgeon."

Though they all conversed for several minutes, Hannibal spent the whole time assessing Anders as best he could. The man was Will's height with a messy undercut and perceiving gray eyes, he was broad, personable and most certainly lived up to the word handsome. However, something about him put Hannibal on alert and it wasn't simply that this was the most dominant alpha in the building after himself, or maybe it was the amount of attention Anders paid to his sixteen-year-old daughter.

Eventually though, the lights flickered and they said their goodbyes so they could watch the second half. Missus Komeda had rather strongly pushed for Hannibal to throw another dinner party because it was 'a whole show' every time he cooked, but his dinner parties could be placed on hold until Sebastian was older just as they had after the twins had been born.

Freed from their conversation, the four of them returned to their box and watched the rest of the play.

~X~

Will's eyes opened. It was dark, too dark, no moonlight drifted in from underneath the bedroom curtains. He could hear Claude, Veronique and Sebastian all crying in the distance – a cacophony which had him launch out of bed not stopping to wonder why Hannibal wasn't in bed beside him. He had to get to his pups, had to find out what was wrong. Claude's room was first and the door kicked open but Claude wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Claude?!" No response came, just the continued distant crying.

He hurried to Veronique's room to find another empty bed, then the nursery where Sebastian's crib lay just as vacant. Tears pricked his eyes as fear overtook him. Where were his pups?! He could hear them but they were nowhere to be found. Will's heart beat faster and faster in his chest as he screamed out for them and searched, as he begged for his alpha to help him.

In a desperate panic he charged downstairs in the pitch black, uncaring for his own safety, and through the dining room to the kitchen where he came to a dead halt. There, lined up on the island of stainless steel was a sight that nearly broke him. His pups tied up like some sort of roast while Jack Crawford smirked from the other side of the island. In his hands was a Glock which he aimed at the children in turn.

"Poor little Will, always so week." Jack taunted. "You're nothing without that pathetic alpha, are you?"

"Hannibal!" Where was his alpha? Where was the sire of his pups who'd vowed to protect them all? "Hannibal!"

"He can't help you." Will jolted away as Mason entered the room and walked towards the island dragging Abigail by the hair behind him; she kicked and screamed but couldn't break free.

Will felt as though he couldn't breathe, his chest felt tight and his mind fogged. The world shook from side to side as tears blurred his vision.

"Will." The shaking came faster. "Will, wake up. William!"

The omega shot upright in bed dripping sweat and crying profusely. Hannibal was there beside him whispering soft words and holding him close. A nightmare? Had a nightmare really felt that real? His alpha continued to soothe him, pet his sweaty hair and assure him all was well, but that didn't stop Will shaking.

"The pups-"

"Are safe, I assure you. It is 3:19 am. You are in Baltimore, Maryland. Your name is Will Graham."

Hannibal's calm and annunciated words eased Will's mind, drew him back to the real world and away from Jack's smirk. He and Mason were dead, they'd hurt nobody else.

"Do – do you think my screaming woke the twins up? I don't want to scare them."

A kiss found its way to Will's sweaty forehead. "I don't think so, but how about we check on them all anyway? You get your breath back and then we'll go."

~X~

Yet another victim of the Chesapeake Ripper had been discovered not too far from Wolf Trap. This one had been Gareth Redgrave in life, a sockbroker originally from Kentucky who'd not had so much as a parking fine. The Ripper had taken his kidneys, liver and heart, then filled the cavity with straw and strung him up with wire like a scarecrow. Clearly there was a message but FBI hadn't quite worked out what it was just yet. Special Agent Michael McCoy – or, annoyingly enough, Bones to his co-workers – shouldn't have been there. He'd been put on the Flag Killer case, but something had told him, given long enough, the Flag Killer would become as prolific as the Chesapeake Ripper and McCoy wanted to see if he could look at the murderer from a new angle by taking a look at the Ripper. Trophies were taken from the Ripper's victims unlike the Flag Killer's, but both men obviously thought themselves artists. There had been a rumor go around the crime scene investigators that the Ripper was actually a demon who could teleport, that was why there wasn't ever any useful evidence left behind, and, though McCoy thought the idea of demons stupid, he could see why that was the conclusion they'd been left with. The Chesapeake Ripper would end up in the history books as one who got away just like Jack the Ripper had, the Flag Killer would be there with them if McCoy didn't find a lead soon. No, looking at the case by looking at another serial killer was a lie, he'd just wanted to remind himself he wasn't the only agent failing to stop a murderer.

Age, gender, dynamic, race, nothing had any baring he could see on how either serial killer chose a victim. Sure, there weren't any recorded omega victims, but that could have just been because they'd not been viewed as a challenge rather than something of note. These two weren't like the Tooth Fairy, he killed anybody inside whichever house he'd chosen, that one was a wild animal while the Ripper and Flag Killer had disturbingly more refined approach to slaughter. Anything useful he knew about his target had come from Doctor Lecter – that man had been a well of useful knowledge and insight. However, an overachieving alpha medical student hadn't narrowed McCoy's suspect pool as much as he'd have thought. Turned out that all medical students were either all about 'I want to help people' or were the overachieving arrogant sort – disturbing, some were both.

He sighed as he stared at Redgrave strung up before him. What possessed people to murder each other in such sadistic and flamboyant ways? There was nothing else for it, he'd need to speak with Doctor Lecter again and hope for something new. He felt like Inspector Lestrade from the Sherlock Holmes novels, a moron just waiting for someone else to solve the crime so he could shut the case down and move on.