The day Will Graham was supposed to meet Hannibal Lector was the day he disappeared without a trace.

When his absence at school became noticeable and Jack Crawford couldn't reach him, he sent Alana Bloom and Hannibal Lector to check on him.

When the house stood lonesome and desolate but as they approached they could hear the rough growling of what sounded like a dozen dogs.

Their knocks were not answered.

Glancing at each other, Alana opened the door with a spare key she had when she dog-sat Will's canines.

As soon as Alana stepped into the room, she let out a horrified gasp.

"Hannibal..."

Hannibal Lector came in leisurely, no urgency in his step, he took in the old house. The fishing trophies, the fishing rods, the muddy boots by the door, a small kitchen with appliances decades past. He took it all in, forming a picture of the man the possessions belonged to.

What didn't fit in the picture he'd made was the girl huddled in the corner, bathed in crimson, surrounded by dogs growling threateningly toward her.

Her golden curls lying limp even as she shivered in her threadbare clothes. Her alert blue eyes taking in every movement around her. Her eyes that widened as they set upon him, her lips mouthing his name like a sacred secret.

Alana tried to calm the dogs to no avail.

Hannibal strode them without a look, and they parted sensing the predator the Alpha in their midst.

He knelt before the girl, his gaze haven't left hers as soon as they made eye contact and she wouldn't break their stare either.

He offered a pristine hand to her.

Only then did she break eye contact, her gaze going to her dirty hands covered in blood and dirt.

She glanced back up at him warily.

Once again not with fear but worry that she'd dirty him.

"It's alright, take my hand." His command was clear.

Her bony hand reached out, placing it in his; it was light far too light.

"Hannibal, we need to report this."

The girl's small hand tightened in his, glancing up at Alana with the fear he expected to see for him.

"I won't leave you."

Blue eyes stared into his maroon.

Maybe it was her golden curls that reminded him of Mischa.

Maybe it was her eyes that looked at him as if she knew his deepest secrets but didn't fear him.

Maybe it was the boredom he'd felt as of late. A boredom he thought might be alleviated by the interesting Will Graham. Instead he'd found a mystery waiting for him.

Whatever it was Hannibal Lector knew one thing: he wasn't letting her out of his sight.