Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As Hannibal took his reserved seating at the Auction, he reflected to himself on the antiquated and near barbaric aspects of his surrounding, the tradition of the Auction still alive and well even in this shiny modern age. Omegas were as rare as they ever were, creatures of the highest beauty and value, the poor damn victims of their own biology and society’s limited view of their gender and capabilities.

Some of the crueler aspects of their handling had improved over time. Laws had been set into place to protect omegas from abuse and provide support to ones who had experienced it. Branding, which was once common place, was looked down upon, having been replaced with the modern method for proof of ownership. The more merciful choices of collars and electronic tagging were quite popular, though tattooing was also in vogue right now for the more artistically minded and adventurous. While there were a few exceptions, for the most part when an omega reached the age of maturity or experienced their first Heat, they were sent to the Auction to be sold to the highest bidder, usually to the alpha that would bound and breed them for life. Only after they were mated did an omega have any notable rights. Omegas that consistently failed to sell were returned to their families, or the person, whether it be alpha or beta, in charge of them to do what with they will.

Not that it was considered fair in this modern age of science and new ideas. No, not at all but unclaimed omegas were in for a life of misery without the protection and support of an alpha in some aspect of their life. Heat suppressants and birth control made them less prisoners of their own bodies for the few and far between who remained unbred and unbound, but none of that was meant to be taken for long term use. It was only putting off the inevitable of Heat and from that necessary bonding. Agreements of personal freedom and debates of equality aside, the sad truth was that an omega needed another being to exist healthily and happily. An omega left too long by itself tended toward self destruction and loathing, eventually ending in death, usually by their own hands.

At Auction, female omegas went first and brought in the most revenue, being actually able to breed and produce offspring. While the female side of this gender could at least look forward to a relationship, a home, and children to keep them company, the truly pitiably creatures were the male omegas who experienced and suffered from all the effects of a Heat- slick, pheromones, sensitivity, desire, helplessness- but all without the gift of being able to create life. A male omega could only look forward to becoming someone’s plaything, usually bought by brothels for this sole purpose or as kept as a secondary partner, one used for pleasure. Rarely to be bonded or considered seriously, they were truly damned. It was almost a mercy that they were so uncommon.

It hadn’t always been like this, all cold transactions and the moving of meat, something almost akin to sex slavery. Few knew or bothered to remember that the origin and point of the Auction was to find one’s other in the hopes of becoming truly bonded, and even perhaps discover a soul mate, though such occurrences were rare now. Any couple involving an alpha, an omega or both could be bonded at some level to their partner, whether emotionally or physically, two betas in a relationship being the exception to this. The soul mate bond was at a deep spiritual level though and was very difficult to put into words or explain in its entirety, making it the fodder for trashy love novels, long dead romantic poets, and modern day topical debate alike.

If he had not seen it for himself with his own eyes in his own dearly departed parents, Hannibal would have dismissed the notion of a soul mate entirely as flights of romantic fantasy. It was almost worse for Hannibal that he had witnessed it because he wanted it for himself, a rarely acknowledged part of him longing for some sort of connection with another being. That was an unlikely notion, considering who and what he really was but the idea, the lingering dream of it, still glittered in the back of his mind and Hannibal was not one to deny himself possibilities, even one as farfetched as a soul mate. He doubted that he would find it here though. Hannibal attended the Auctions purely for social reasons, with no purpose other than to be seen and admired.

A nobleman of Lithuanian descent but one who rarely used his title of Count, Doctor Hannibal Lecter was in a category all to his own. Growing up, he had ignored his titles and all the privilege that came with them, deciding to study medicine, earning accolades of his own making.
He was a pure Alpha, a thoroughbred, one built faster, stronger, smarter, better than others of his gender. Even worse, Hannibal knew it. In the quiet moment while he was cutting out other people’s organs for his sadistic pleasure and their punishment, Hannibal wondered if him being so unique, so pure, so rarified genetically were contributing factor to his ‘hobby’, a biological need to separate the wheat of society from the unwanted chaff of its filth. That he had been born a predator with a purpose. The evil of men and the horrific deeds they brought with them combined with the loss of a beloved sister brought out the best and worst of his being into the light. The world had never been the same since.

Nostrils flaring, Hannibal scented the air even now, like a wolf to the wind. Something had been lingering on the air for a while now, ever since he had arrived and it was really starting to bother him. It felt like the coming of rain, an electric energy lacing the air all around him, but at the same time, not. It was beginning to make his skin itch under his suit but not in a bad way. Hannibal was restless and on edge and he had no idea why.

“Is everything alright?” Bedelia asked, her controlled slight tip in head the only giveaway to her curiosity. She was seated next to Hannibal, the only other occupant allowed at the table. She was one of few who could or dared to. A colleague and fellow psychiatrist, Bedelia Du Maurier was a female alpha, rare gender but not unheard of. It made her an intriguing person to talk to and verbally spar with as well. She also happened to be the closest thing Hannibal had to a friend without really being one.

Gracefully inclining his head, Hannibal nodded, biting back a sigh as he continued to look around to see who was here this time round. The auction hall was a cavernous space of a building, old and solidly build, reminding Hannibal of an opera house he has once been in while visited Florence, decorated all in intricate tiled mosaics. The Alphas and other members of the audience were seated at numbered tables in pairs or trios based on social status, by reservation and invite only. The Auction always sold best and the brightest omegas first to the alphas and wealthier betas in private events before opening their doors to the public for larger scale sales.

Needless to say, Hannibal’s and Bedelia’s table was near the front of the stage, almost dead center. With their unique qualities, high personal revenue, and elite standing, they both rated solo tables but liked each other’s company well enough to come to a mutual agreement of cohabitation. Neither had any intention of buying the presented stock, the two alphas here purely for the social status off of it all. The pair would often share a bottle of wine and amuse each other by adding their own running commentary on the proceedings and who would have buyer‘s remorse later on, the two physiatrists having unique advantages in that area.

All the who’s who of the Alpha community were here, which unfortunately included Dr. Frederick Chilton much to Hannibal’s amused distain. The man was a social climbing weasel who somehow managed to be boorishly annoying and utterly boring all at the same time. Hannibal was still trying to figure out how the man managed to achieve it so consistently but that would mean having to socialize with him for longer periods of time than Hannibal wished to commit to finding out. The only reason Dr. Chilton was not an appetizer(he really didn’t rate a main course) was that he had enough sense and good taste to idolize Hannibal, visibly hanging onto every word Hannibal said when he deigned to be in the other man’s company. For all his sins, Hannibal was not above a little flattery, even if the admiration was from a rodent with a Napoleon complex pretending to be an alpha.

Hannibal’s barely there brows arched in surprise though when his maroon eyes alighted upon an unexpected sight, a person he would have never thought to find here. Alana Bloom, a lovely beta and former student of his turned colleague, was seated a couple of tables over beside a dark skinned, rather imposing Alpha. Both appeared quite agitated while making a show of trying not to show it. Hannibal could practically smell the aggression and anger rolling off of them though, who graciously excused himself from Bedelia’s company, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Good evening.” Hannibal greeted, half bowing to Alana to smiled up in what looked like relief at him. Obviously, her company was not the friendly sort, the other alpha glowering at him.

“Hannibal. Thank god, I am so happy to see you.” Alana rose up to meet him. “This is Jack Crawford, head of the behavioral sciences at the FBI.” She gestured to her companion, who nodded gravely back, his mood somewhat lightening now that he didn’t perceive Hannibal as a threat to them, common behavior in an Alpha. Possessiveness was a key word in describing any member of his gender.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Crawford.” Hannibal said politely before turning his attention back to Alana. “Though I must admit, I am confused about your presence here. You have often stated your displeasure for the Auction several times, quite memorably if memory serves well.”

Alana bit her bottom lip, looking to Jack who shrugged, the two coming to an unspoken agreement about something. “I know, I know, and I stand by what I said about it, being outdated, demeaning, and cruel, but I’m here for a friend.” she said, looking over at the raised stage to glare at it as if it had personally offended her.

“An omega.” Hannibal said, making it more statement than question as he put on a concerned face. He hated to state obvious things, but prompting was needed if he wanted to find out the heart of the matter in a timely manner.

“Yes, and a very special one at that.” Alana sighed, looking more wrecked the longer she talked about it. “His name is Will. Will Graham and he shouldn’t be here.”

“What makes him so different, so unique it merit’s a member of the FBI’s and your reluctant presence?” It was obvious that the omega in question wasn’t mated, which in itself was unusual the way Jack and Alana were acting, enough so that it peeked Hannibal’s interest. He didn’t get the impression that they were speaking of a young relative or associate coming here after their first Heat.

“Besides the fact he’s a teacher at the FBI who specializes in psychoanalyzing the criminally insane and in his mid-thirties, he’s one of my best profilers.” Jack told him, explaining the sense of ownership Hannibal was getting from the alpha. The omega had been in his employ and thus his responsibility.

“That seems highly improbable.” Hannibal pointed out, poking the bear of this conversation to see what it did. “Especially if he is here.”

“He was hiding his gender with a combination of heat suppressants and birth control.” Alana explained, running her hands through her long dark hair, an old habit that Hannibal had been unable to fully break her of. “Most of which were illegally acquired. He got a bad batch of one or the other, and it made him really sick. He ended up fainting from fever while teaching a class and was discovered when he went straight into a Heat, his first one since puberty. Fortunately, he was at a hospital by then.”

“So he was kept safe from any random Alpha but unfortunately they had to report him and he’s here now, on sale.” Hannibal finished for her. Her story was fascinating and the omega intriguing. He had never heard of, much less seen, an omega so late in age left unmated and allow to live on his own, able to manage on his own. Omegas left to their own devices too long and unbounded tended to go crazy or get so depressed they ended themselves, their body’s chemicals and urges their own worst enemies. An unbounded male omega in his mid thirties that was relatively sane and more impressively functional in society was a true diamond in the rough, but one who was not only been a teacher for the FBI but a profiler as well was a thing of disbelief. Hannibal would have thought finding a winged unicorn was more likely.

The possibilities were endless though now that Hannibal’s mind spun and whirl around the idea of Will Graham. The omega had to be a clever one, someone who’s head was well worth looking into to. To be able to hide in plain sight for so long, under the noses and eyes of FBI in training and full fledged agents. There were layers there, the kind of which Hannibal wanted to pull back to see what lay beneath. He was willing to bet there was something worth finding, something bloody with teeth and fangs of its own. “You are here to save him then.” Hannibal concluded, watching as Alana and Jack nodded their head in agreement, already beginning to have his own thoughts on the matter

“I’m already soul bonded but at least, we can get around the letter of the law. I can take Will on as my secondary and I can keep him where I need him to be.” Jack explained, looking pleased about something on that aspect. Something about it didn’t strike Hannibal as sexual.

“Jack! You can’t keep him out in the field. It’s not good for him and you know it.” Alana helpfully revealed the source of Jack’s true intent. As Will’s alpha, Jack would essentially own him and all that he was and had. If Jack needed him to do a job, Will could be allowed to work, under restrictions of course, but it would be more than what most omegas were allowed.

“He’s saving peoples’ lives. I need him out there. Will going a little crazy is worth…” Jack started to fume to be cut off by Alana.

“That’s not acceptable!” the beta snapped. This seemed to be an old argument between then, Hannibal looking on in amusement. He loved a free show as much as the next person, though he would never admit it aloud or how much he gleaned about a person and their motivations from observation.

“We can argue about this later.” Jack growled, obviously not used to having other people disagree much less argue with him.

“Yes, the auction is about to begin so I will wish you both the best of luck and good bidding.” Hannibal excused himself, noticing the stage beginning to fill with nervous omegas and the auctioneer shuffling through his papers at the podium. On his way back to his seat, Hannibal overheard Chilton chattering on about Will Graham and his unusual collections of neuroses that made him such an effective profiler. Terrible, short sighted little man that he was, Chilton was already making plans for Will, seeing books and studies on the man in his future and saying as much to his captive uncaring audience. It looked as if Jack was going to have some competition on his hands after all. Most of the brothels would not be interested or make any real effort toward bidding due to Will’s age despite his unique gender. They wanted pliable young meat though it made Hannibal wonder if Will was a virgin or not. For not being discovered for so long, Hannibal couldn’t see him running the high risk of taking a lover.

Curiouser and curiouser. Will Graham was quickly turned from a being of myth to one that of legend. A working omega, unbonded this late in life and still a virgin? It was almost enough for Hannibal to consider bidding as he retook his seat next to Bedelia who poured him a glass of wine, red this time. Knowing his colleague’s preference, it was no surprise when it turned out to be a dry Barolo, rich with the tangy aroma and taste of bright cherries. Not exactly his ideal sipping wine, but Bedelia preferred vintages with bite and it was her turn to choose.

Ignoring the proceedings going on around him, Hannibal turned his thoughts inward, his complicated processes circling around this new concept of Will Graham. Most omegas accepted their fates that society pressed upon them, spent most their lives training for what was expected of them. Their behavior was born and bred complacent, an omega having an inborn need to please an alpha or their mate. From what he had gathered and gleaned, Will Graham didn’t fit the atypical profile of a docile omega at all.

It was intriguing. Hannibal found himself wanting to catch a glimpse of the man who had roused his interest, leaving off conversation with Bedelia to turn his gaze toward the stage which was full of shuffling omegas full of nervous energy, all neatly lined up. Females first from youngest to the oldest, though most were all the same age.

Will Graham was the easiest to spot among them, being the only male on stage besides the auctioneer and some security, most of which were stationed around him. He was also the only bloodied and bound omega, his eyes and most of his face covered with a heavy leather mask that circled his head and looked like it lock on the back of his neck. It was a throwback to the old days of the Auction and surprising to see that the staff had resorted to it.

In the olden days, the omegas would have been naked and masked, the idea behind it being the alpha who bought their mate was the only one allowed to look upon it first after sale. Now the omegas were allowed a simple garb, a plain white shift that covered their forms barely, the material almost sheer to better show off their assets while still giving a passing nod to decency. It was interesting to note that Will’s barely there clothing was torn and bloodied, his skin marred with bruising as well. He had not been taken in easily, that much was obvious. Even while blinded, hobbled, and bound, he remained tense, his muscles standing out in strained relief against his skin like he was ready to dart first chance he was given. Dirty, wounded, and battered, he should have never drawn Hannibal’s attention to him who preferred things in more pristine conditions. As others were sold and the omega drew nearer to the stage and Hannibal’s table, the alpha’s full focus was upon Will.

The scent, the one that had been bothering Hannibal since he had entered the auction house, was coming from Will Graham and it was quickly becoming like ball lightening in the air, making Hannibal‘s skin tingle like it had been struck and the finer hairs on his body stand on end. What had once been light and heady, even ignorable before, was making Hannibal dry swallow now like he was drying of thirst and gulp for fresh air as he ran the odds in his head. Too ripe peaches threatening to burst and light rain moistening earth were the scents beginning to choke all the reasoning out of Hannibal, along with his disbelief. The scent was coming from a pure Omega. Not only that, he could tell from the sweetest of the scent that this Will Graham, this strange Omega, was his mate. He knew this as fact though he couldn‘t say why, knew it as a truth as solid as his own bones, a secret he never knew until now that had been written on his skin and whispered in the dark behind his eyes.

Hannibal watching in something akin to horror as the Omega known as Will Graham titled his own head back, scenting the air, his bound head turning in Hannibal’s direction to sightlessly stare the Alpha down. Even bound and blind, his true mate knew he was there, something deep with Hannibal beginning to rend and tear as this was all processed. Feeling oddly numb, separated while still engaged, Hannibal could hear Bedelia shifting near him, asking him a question of some sort, undoubtedly smelling the emotional cocktail coming off of him. Anger that his mate was standing injured and bound before him, rage that a roomful of alphas were staring at his Omega, and a wave, no, a tsunami of possessiveness to claim and conquer that was his threatening to spill out in the open.

Hannibal was distracted from the rooms’ genocide, an effort but doable, when his sleeve was tapped by a manicured nail. “I assume it would be safe to say that someone has peeked your interest.” Bedelia smirked and even that looked lovely on her, making Hannibal instantly grateful for her grounding presence. There were mutual beneficial reasons they were almost friends after all. Her intentional interference made Hannibal remember himself, the Alpha reigning himself in.

“Surprisingly enough, yes. I believe so.” Hannibal smiled dryly, excusing himself to return back to Jack’s and Alana’s table.

“Are you aware of why he is wearing the mask?” Usually Hannibal was one for courtesy but the bidding was going quickly, and amount of omegas before Will was dwindling down fast. There was things he needed to know though before he considered certain actions on his part. “You said that Will was special. I thought you meant that in the sense that he was special to you. I am starting to believe otherwise though.”

“He is…” Alana said slowly, too slowly for Hannibal‘s liking, one ear keeping track of the proceedings going on behind them. “….complicated. It’s complicated.”

“Long story short- Will’s an empath. The real deal.” Jack clarified. Unlike Alana and not as familiar with Hannibal, he was more interesting in watching the process of bidding that guarding his words. “He has the ability to take on and understand anyone’s point of view. It‘s what makes him the best damn profiler I‘ve got and the best shot I have for catching the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“The Chesapeake Ripper?” Hannibal hid his amusement well under a perfectly crafted mask of confusion at the turn in conversation, coating his expression with concern and surprise that looked genuine.

“As an empath, Will catches killers by becoming them.” Jack told him, growing impatient as two alphas delayed by getting into a bidding war over a petite blonde omega.

“Which is not good for him.” Alana sniped, shooting Jack a sharp look. “I don’t know why you can’t just leave him alone. He‘s happy just teaching.”

“He’s saving people. Will Graham has caught more killers doing what he does than any other agent.” Jack stated firmly, acting like that would end the disagreement. Alana‘s answering glare told him that the matter was still open to debate, and not over by a long shot. “He’s been working with my team and I on the Ripper case. I believe he’s the key to catching the bastard. I need him back.”

“Ah, so that is why Frederick, Dr. Chilton, is interested in him then.” Hannibal said, intentionally adding some gasoline to the fire of Jack’s temper. Anger made the man careless, something that the Chesapeake Ripper noted for later.

“Son of a bitch.” Jack glared at the doctor seated a few tables away from them, Chilton too involved trying to impress his table‘s guests to take notice.

“I presume the mask it to keep him from forming a bond then until he is sold.” Hannibal mused, studying Will whose head was still turned toward him, the scent of sticky peaches soaked in bourbon still so sweet all around him. “His gift set would make it easy to form a true bond, whether he wanted to or not.”

“Yes, unfortunately, that is the perception. That and apparently Will tried to bite a guard.” Alana sighed, looking worried for her friend.

Losing interest having gotten what he wanted from the exchange, Hannibal was already up and out of his seat, striding across the room toward the stage, just as Will Graham’s sale was being announced. Without pause, Hannibal hopped onto the stage in the smooth movement of a predator, making the auctioneer startle back away from him. Hannibal could have cared less about anyone else in the room or their opinion of him, his sole focus on the spectacular Omega before him. The attention was returned in full, Will shrinking down on his knees, an omega’s defense mechanism kicking in while in the presence of such a powerful alpha, a silent plea for nonviolence and a cue of submission. Even now though the omega fought against his own body, struggling to rise to his feet, the efforts of it leaving Will shaking. Hannibal approved.

“What are you…” said the auctioneer, the human equivalent of a gnat in Hannibal’s ear.

“I will take him.” Hannibal stated, standing before Will but very careful not to touch, not yet at least. A steely sanguine glare kept the guards in their place as well.

“But sir….” the auctioneer was wasting him time in Hannibal’s opinion. His status and social standing alone gave him priority in bidding.

“I am not in the habit of repeating myself.” Hannibal’s words came out cold and killing.

“But there is procedure and…” the irritating man trailed off as Hannibal stared him down until the protests died on his tongue. The auctioneer obviously had the survival instincts meant for lemmings, his imminent future one of being dressed in a sauce and served with side dishes. The man who would be dinner gestured helplessly to the stunned crowd behind them. Hannibal calmly looked out upon their audience and let part of his mask go, the pure Alpha side of it that he usually kept in check.

And the room flinched back from him as a whole, with the exception of Bedelia who smiled and had the audacity to rise her glass to him in a toast. “$100, 000.” Hannibal told the room with a razor tone that threatened without obviously doing so, daring anyone to challenge his bid. It was a little high, especially for an omega Will’s age but Hannibal was done with wasting time. He could afford it, the amount mere pocket change to him, and would have gladly paid triple that if it meant he could leave right now with his prize.

“The bid is at $100, 000. Going once. Going twice. Sold to Doctor Lecter.” the auctioneer said weakly, closing the bidding down as fast as he could. There were not other takers anyway, the gathering still stunned into a mute state of being, though Jack was seething through clenched teeth, white knuckling the edge of the table. Hannibal knew Jack had been counting on Will going for a lower price due to his age and temperamental nature. Most alphas wanted a pliant mate who would bend over any surface for them, not someone to argue with them tooth and claw to the bitter end.

Getting the keys for Will’s binding from the still stammering auctioneer, Hannibal took Will by his bound hands, very careful to only touch the leather of the cuffs, leading the omega, his omega off of the stage with nary a look back.

oOo
The car ride home was quiet the entire way back, not that Hannibal was surprised or complaining about the lack of conversation. He had freed Will’s arms and legs but had left the mask on, wanting to be in the safety of his home for the reveal. That and he didn’t want anyone else to look at Will, not yet at least while he was unclaimed by him. Blind, Will let himself be led and seated in the car, remaining quiet the entire process of payment and purchase of collar, which had yet to be placed around his neck. It would reside there soon enough, all omegas required to wear one as proof of ownership. To Hannibal’s delight, the Auction’s selection was surprisingly very good, the business used to catering to the precarious whims of the rich and elite. Will’s new collar was soft tooled black leather, Italian crafted and elegantly simple in design and braiding with an ornate silver clasp that Hannibal could lock.

The only noise Will had offered up was a grunt of pain when he was electronically tagged in the shoulder. Mate or not, Hannibal was unwilling to take any chances and Will was still an unknown entity to him. He might try to run before Hannibal had a chance to properly condition or claim him.

The silence between them didn’t feel tense though. Will simply seemed like he was waiting for something to happen, making himself ready for it. Appreciative of the quiet so that he could think, Hannibal found himself wondering what he was going to do with Will. He essentially knew nothing about the man, other than that he was a peculiar, clever omega who was being groomed to hunt him, the darker part of his personality. His other persona was very good reason Hannibal had never taken on a mate before. His secrets ran deep and deadly, not meant for sharing. Not many would be able to handle the idea of sleeping next to a sadistic cannibalistic serial killer well, much less be mated to one. A planner and schemer of Machiavellian level, Hannibal usually never did anything so reckless, but even now, Will’s scent sang to him, reminding him of the certainty that had driven him to this impulsive decision that just may end up badly for them both. The scent of nectar, warmed bourbon, and peaches so ripe they were on the verge of rot was nearly suffocating him.

They would have a lot to discuss when they got home.
oOo
TBC

Chapter Text

Hannibal made it a point to pull Will into his own personal bathroom first, which taking all things into consideration would be ‘their’ bathroom from now on, to make the Omega sit down on the edge of the immense marble tub there so that Hannibal could assess his new mate’s wounds. The alpha part of his personality didn’t like seeing the damage Will had taken. The serial killer part of his personality was already making a list of how to find those people who had dared to lay a finger on his mate and what to do with them afterward. He hadn’t hosted a dinner party in a long while for he believed a feast must present itself. Now seemed like the opportune time though, the meat practically lining up for it. Plus a celebration was in order and Hannibal couldn’t wait to show off for his mate, at least in one aspect.

Removing the shift that was Will’s only piece of clothing proved more difficult than Hannibal would have thought. As soon as Will felt the sheer material begin to leave his body, he fought, coming off the lip of the tub to flail his arms and legs about with a precise intent that suggested training of some kind. Will was quick and vicious in his attacks, obviously not holding back.

Intrigued, Hannibal avoided the blindly aimed strikes with ease, the Alpha stepping back and away until Will tired himself out, ending his offensive measures when it proved futile by backing himself a wall. Effective measure to protect one’s back and Hannibal approved. It might have even been somewhat effective if Will weren’t still wearing his mask. Striking when an opening presented itself from the side when Will turned his head, Hannibal’s hand snaked behind the omega’s head so that he could tightly grasp the back of Will’s neck. His long fingers curled into the damp skin there, making Will go limp and dead limbed as he exerted pressure, the Omega pressure point hardwired into his body.

“I am merely cleaning your wounds and checking to see if there are any more that needed my attention. I have extensive medical training so please calm yourself.” Hannibal spoke softly into Will’s ear who whimpered in reply, the Alpha taking the opportunity to get close while he had a valid reason, safely so. The scent of rain struck peaches drowning in bourbon was still present and as tantalizing as when Hannibal first noticed it at the Auction. This close he could smell the rest of Will, his real bodily scents underneath all the pheromones, the sour of his sweat that was overly ripe with fear and stress paired with the more metallic odors of old blood, dried and flaking off of his unwashed skin. There was also the hints of what could only the remnants of strong aftershave, potent and cheap. More than likely something that came in a bottle with a ship on it.

Giving Will a warning shake, Hannibal let him go to finish undressing the omega who let him though in his considerable experience, Hannibal had to admit he had stripped more cooperative corpses. The bruising was worse on Will’s torso, like he had been struck repeatedly along his shoulders and back, giving Hannibal the impression the omega had stubbornly refused to go down. Given his reactions thus far, Will probably fought till the bitter end with his captors and then some. The marks from restraints were around his ankles and wrist as well, the skin there rubbed raw and puffy, already scabbing. Being thorough, Hannibal disinfected all the lacerations and abrasions, keeping his touches on Will’s body as brief and professional as possible.

Despite his best efforts, Will still tried to curl away from him, the omega hunching his shoulders while ducking his head, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. To his credit, Will didn’t not whimper, complain, or tremble under his touch, the Omega clutching at his dignity like it would cover his nudity. Genetically defiant as he was in personality, Will was not much shorter than Hannibal, the Alpha having only about an inch on the Omega. While his body still retained the hairlessness that was found in male omegas, Will was neither slight or delicate in form and figure. He had a leanness that came from being underfed, but he was muscular and fit more in the way a beta was than the standards of his gender.

Hannibal was beginning to understand how Will evaded discovery for so long. Male omegas tended to be asexual in appearance, running naturally thin, their built slight, more matched to their female counterpart with softer curves and angles, but lacking their reproductive organs and the notable feature of breasts. With heat suppressants and applying that vile aftershave, Hannibal could see in his mind’s eye Will using his empathic ability to ape Alpha’s like tendencies and personality traits. It was beautiful idea, hiding out in the open like that. People tended to see what they wanted to. If it hadn’t been for a bad batch of illegally acquired heat suppressants, Will could have kept up his ruse indefinitely. Hannibal was grateful to the little twists in fate that had delivered the Omega to him. It was also a good reminder that the Devil was in the details.

When he was done and satisfied with his administrations, Hannibal retrieved a robe upon noticing Will’s skin start to goose pimple, placing the garment over the omega’s shoulders. The slightly smaller man put his arms through the holes of it instinctually to pull the buttery soft dark red silk around himself tight like makeshift armor, though Hannibal mentally winced at the treatment as he watched him roughly knot the robe shut.

“Could you take this thing off me?” Will asked quietly, surprising Hannibal, the Omega’s first words to him sounding harshly spoken against the leather of the mask. Articulate but on edge, the Omega’s words just holding the barest hint of an accent, something Southern Hannibal believed. Will’s head was turned down and away from him, though Hannibal knew the omega was aware of where he was standing and had been since their meeting at the Auction, his ability to hone in on Hannibal’s positioning uncanny. His body language told Hannibal that he didn’t expect him to acquiesce.

“Of course. I was hoping for a more peaceful setting to do so in. I didn’t wish to startle you.” Hannibal said, making no move toward that intention as he studied the Omega‘s reaction, Will‘s head swinging back in his direction like a homing missile. Hannibal could feel the heat of the Will‘s glare even through the layers of glossy leather.

“I’ve been ’startled’ for the last couple of days. One more won’t kill me. Plus I’d like to see the guy who owns me now.” was said rather bitterly. Hannibal considered leaving the mask on, the appeal of having Will rely on him tempting, but there were other things to consider. Hannibal still had no idea what his mate looked like. The key was found readily enough in his suit pocket, Will bowing his head forward to give Hannibal better access to the back of his neck when Omega heard the jingle of metal. Hannibal approved, liking that while Will was stubborn, he wasn’t stupid or made dumb from pride. The Omega knew opportunity when it presented itself.

The leather parted readily enough and Will was revealed, the Omega blinking at the sudden return of light and vision. Letting the mask fall out of his hands, Hannibal looked down into large tired eyes that retreated quickly away, the elusive gaze a spectacular shade of azure with flecks of light gray and brown speckled throughout them, accentuated by the long dark lashes shadowed them. Their gaze never directly met Hannibal‘s own, coming to rest as far up as his lips and chin, resolutely staying there.

That world weary look was set in a face that was meant more for the art of Renaissance angels and the legend of long dead romantic poets. A short beard that was more forgotten scruff than intentional growth covered a finely made jaw line and sharp chin. Lips, chapped from habitual biting and dehydration, were gracefully formed and held an alluring fullness to them, naturally shaded a kiss swollen pink. Will Graham was lovely but not in the typical asexual way other male omegas tended to be. Whether it was due to the fact he was pure or not, Will held a wildness about him, something untamed that growled silently in warning at Hannibal. It only made Hannibal want to tether Will down more.

Own him.

Render him.

Ruin him.

“Disappointed already? Get used to that feeling. I almost feel sorry for you.” Will grimaced, rubbing his face with his hands as if to wipe away the feel of the mask entirely from it.

“Why do you say that?” Hannibal ventured, amused and surprised by the fact he was. Generally, he couldn’t abide rudeness, barely tolerating it in other people. The contents of his freezers were proof enough of that.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you bought damaged goods. I hope you like crazy because I am at least seven messy buckets of it.” Will grinned unapologetically up at Hannibal, the expression more a baring of teeth than friendly gesture.

“As it so happens, I do. It so happens that my profession thrives on it.” Hannibal smiled back, equally more fang than friendly. His pleasure only grew upon seeing Will unimpressed and more so, unaffected by the menace and underlying threat of it, the Omega going so far to glower openly at him.

“Oh god, you’re a physiatrist. Fuck my life.” Will groaned into his palms where his head came to rest in them like a prayer.

“Better me than Chilton.” Hannibal said, watching with interest as Will looked up in surprised revulsion, paling at the mention of the other doctor. He obviously recognized the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane administrator’s name if his sickly pallor was anything to go by.

“And who are you?” Will asked, warily peeking out between his finger at Hannibal who realized belated that they had not been formally introduced.

“Doctor Hannibal Lecter.” Hannibal introduced himself almost apologetically. Strange circumstances aside, he was usually not so remiss in polite educate. Will was proving himself to be a distraction, the best possible kind in this case.

“You wrote a paper for The Journal of Clinical Psychology. It was called Evolutionary Origins of Social Exclusion, I believe. Very interesting take on it from what I remember.” Will said much to Hannibal’s surprise, the Alpha taking a moment to preen though it sounded more like an accusation from Will rather than a compliment.

“It seems we are more well acquainted with one another through our writing. I believe you wrote the standard monograph on time of death by insect activity for the FBI. It was fascinating read, very informative.” Hannibal said feeling magnanimous and very pleased that Will already knew of him, even if it was in passing.

Will made a non committal sound at the compliment, shrugging it off. “I hope you enjoy sleeping with someone who sweats heavily, has night terrors, and screams in their sleep which is a rare thing for me thanks to insomnia. Oh, and when I do manage it, I sleepwalk. Have fun with that.” he smiled ruefully crooked, like the joke was on Hannibal who quietly absorbed the information, cataloguing it as Will took his silence as permission to continue rambling on about his short comings, something he seemed to have in abundance if Will was to be believed.

“Everything you have mentioned can be fixed or eased to manageable levels given enough time, patience, and effort, all of which I have in abundance.” Hannibal said when Will took pause long enough for breathing.

“But why bother? I’m old and set in my ways. I can’t even give you children.” Will pointed out, looking hopeful, probably about his prospect of leaving.

“I have no need or want for children, and I believe the saying “even old dogs can learn new tricks’ applies here.” Hannibal countered, watching hope die on Will‘s face to be replaced by something more raw and desperate. “Are you stating all of your faults to me in rapid succession for any particular reason?”

“Alana Bloom and Jack Crawford can pay you back your money. I know they were there at the Auction.” Will said with the air of a man throwing his pocketed ace on the table in hopes of a winning hand.

“No, they can’t, and even if they could, I have no intention of selling you to them.” Hannibal was as practical as he was merciless. He could keep this flame of hope alive and as amusing as that might be, Hannibal wanted and needed Will to know that he was his in this moment.

“Why?” Will said at a loss, his eyes darting wildly about, never really meeting Hannibal’s own.

“Not fond of eye contact are you?” Hannibal asked, already knowing the answer. Fuel needed to be added to the fire of their conversation though. He could tell that Will was the type that needed stimuli to be forthcoming and flourish.

“Eyes are distracting,” Will answered, resolutely avoiding the maroon that sought out his blue. “You see too much. You don’t see enough.”

“I suspect it is the former notion in your case.” Hannibal said, reaching out to cup Will’s jaw. Keeping him still with minimal effort, the omega froze under the alpha’s firm touch, instinctually responding to some biological cue despite his best efforts.

“Don’t…...” Will said quietly, already knowing what Hannibal intended to do.

“I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind.” Hannibal said just as quiet, not making Will look him in the eye but kept his hand in place to keep the Omega still as he searched his face. “What do you dream about, Will? What makes you scream at night?”

“Please don’t psychoanalyze me. You wouldn’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed. No one does.” Will said, trying to make his words sound light, but failing. The joke ended up sounding kind of wearily sad, like Will had been proven right in that area too many times by others.

“Let me be the judge of that.” Hannibal said, keeping his tone and face placid. Elementally speaking, he equated Will to fire and air, all unfettered movement and heat. To gain balance, Hannibal knew to would have to make himself a counterpoint made from water and earth, a spot of solidarity that Will could touch down upon. That would ultimately be Will’s downfall in the end though. Quicksand was brought about from the combination of Hannibal’s two chosen elements.

“I-I can’t do this….” Will sighed, trying to pull away and looking murderous about it when he found out that Hannibal wouldn’t let go of his face. It didn’t help that the Alpha was being an utterly calm bastard about it as well, his fingers digging into Will’s cheek and chin just this side of bruising.

“Do what?” Hannibal asked, his being the singularity of a reflection pond upon Will.

“Be in this ….be your mate….It won‘t work. I don‘t work.” Will seethed from his spot, his steam running out with his self deprecation. “I don’t work well with others. I’m better off by myself.”

“I disagree and no intention of leaving you in the dark with only the horrors trapped in the bone cage of your skull to keep you company.” Hannibal told the omega, enjoying the confusion Will was trying to hide from him at the admittance. “So tell me your thoughts.”

“My thoughts…..are not meant for another’s consumption. My thoughts are often not tasty.” Will was trying to rile his defenses. It was a wasted effort on his part. The entire time of the exchange, Hannibal had been incrementally lightening his grip upon Will, the omega unbeknownst following his hand, leaning into his touch even as it tried to recede. Will wasn’t as unaffected by Hannibal as he would have liked him to believe, the alpha wondering how he smelled to the omega.

“Nor mine so you are in good company.” Hannibal said, using this game of push and pull to draw Will in nearer to him, his hand sliding up to just touch the soft edge of dark chocolate curls.

“I don’t…. I didn’t mean it that way. I just….I really doubt your nightmares involve murder like mine do.” Will muttered, turning his head so that long fingers could dig through his hair, a strong hand cupping the back of his head, the touch of it bringing an odd sense of security with it. A part of Will pointed out that it was all biological, that an omega had those certain pressure points and sensitive areas on their body that naturally responded to an Alpha. Nothing more, nothing less to it.

“Do you die often in your dreams?” could have been floated down from up on high for all Will cared at the moment. He hadn’t slept in days, insomnia combined with the stress of capture, imprisonment, and his entire life going to shit making such a feat impossible. The silk he was wearing combined with Hannibal’s nearness was beginning to bliss Will out, his body unused to such soft handling.

“No, no…I…” Will tried to answer because he knew something was expected of him. This felt nice, another large hand coming to rest on his shoulder, grounding him. Will hazily wondered if he could let himself feel nice for a moment, could afford that much. For the first time in what felt like forever, no one was yelling at him, threatening him, or trying to hurt him, forcing him to submit. The prominent baking spice smell that had first caught and held Will’s attention at the Auction now blanketed him, creating a state of calm within him that was foreign to Will. The damn analytical part of his brain kept telling him that the sensations were false, that it was all from chemicals and pheromones being dumped into his head, aided by the withdrawal of the heat suppressants leaving his system.

“Ah, I see. You are the murderer in your own head. How does that make you feel?” and then Hannibal had to go and say something stupid like that, shattering that sense of safety, making Will realize how vulnerable he was and was being. Ire woke Will out of his stupor, the omega suddenly feeling very trapped against the Alpha he was being held by. It didn’t help matters either that he was practically leaning against Hannibal for support.

“How does that make you feel, doctor? The idea of sleeping beside someone who thinks about killing for a living? Of being in a bond with a man who just might actually enjoy what he imagines from time to time, just a little too much?” Will snapped, forcing himself to meet the Alpha eye to eye to make him back off. It had worked in the past, held eye contact important with Alphas. Sanguine eyes of a strange reddish brown met his own calmly though, giving away nothing try as Will might to find something to use against Hannibal. It was like staring into a void, near hypnotizing in its blank depth. Most would have found it unsettling but after a lifetime of peeking in through the windows of the soul, it was refreshing to find a blank wall there. For all he knew, Hannibal could be thinking about gutting him or redecorating his ridiculously big bathroom. Seriously, what would a single man who lived alone need two sinks for or do with a tub that was bigger than some cars?

“It’s an uncomfortable gift, your empathy. You can assume anyone’s point of view, even the ones that scare you. That kind of perception is a tool that is pointed at both ends. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams.” Hannibal laid Will bare, at least mentally and wasn’t that worse in some ways. It was disconcerting to be solved so easily, taken apart to be put back together with just a few words.

Closing his eyes, Will could only nod weakly in answer, the Omega looking exhausted as life seemed to drain from him. “I would apologize for my analytical ambush but I know I will soon be apologizing again. Observing is what we do. I can’t shut mine off any more than you can shut yours off.” Hannibal said soothingly, his fingers playing with curls, damp and sticky with fresh sweat.

“Just keep it professional.” Will grumbled before realizing how ridiculous that sounded, especially when his forehead was resting against Hannibal‘s chest, the two practically in an embrace if Will ever chose to join in. He resolutely kept his hands by his side, fingers curling into the crimson silk in small defiance. Some part of himself could enjoy this, might even need it at some level, but he was not going to encourage it. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

“Or we could socialize like adults. God forbid we become friendly.” Hannibal mused, Will opening his eyes to look up at him again at the implications. It was odd to Will to find that he could. Hannibal’s face could have been carved from stone for all it emoted. Even the man’s micro expressions were fleeting and hard to follow. Will decided that Hannibal would be like a language he would have to learn if he wanted to ever really understand the man. There was a mask in place, one crafted from a lifetime of experience. Will could tell that much, damnable curiosity borne from an overactive imagination making him want to peek behind it and what he might find there in the dark.

“I don‘t find you that interesting.” Will told him defiantly and didn‘t Hannibal love him even more for it. Plaint was for other lazy Alphas. Hannibal didn‘t do nice and easy. He wanted, needed someone with a weapon already in hand, a mate who would bite him back. Passion kept things interesting after all, kept the blood flowing, even is that passion was one of resistance and obstinacy.

“You will.” Hannibal promised, leaning in to brush his lips dryly against Will‘s own, the Omega kept in place by the firm grip on the back of his head for the barely there kiss. “ Alana mentioned to me that you teach at the FBI but I am starting to believe it is Jack Crawford that made you have a knack for the monsters. I think he sent you looking too long into dark places.”

“At least I had a purpose.” Will muttered bitterly, still tense under Hannibal’s touch but not pulling away from it either.

“I will give you another.” Hannibal promised, liking how torn Will looked about it. He was so expressive with his wealth of emotions, all left unchecked to run rampant through him.

Alphas were Will’s nightmare, that much was obvious, and was just further proof of how much Jack had almost ruined something precious and rare, not knowing what he really had at hand. Hannibal knew the statistics in serial killers, the majority of them Alphas turned feral, wrong in the head. From dealing firsthand with the worst that life had to offer, all Will knew of Alphas was pain, blood, murder, manipulation, and humiliation. Was it any small wonder he continuously stunk of fear while around Hannibal, smelling sweetly sour with tangy notes of salt from pores and ducts to him?

Leaving off of his shoulder, Hannibal reached up for Will’s face with his other hand, watching calmly as the omega flinched from him but managed to keep himself from moving back. Will was expecting pain from him. Whether emotional, physical, or spiritual, it didn’t matter in what form, it was that Will expected it was what bothered Hannibal. He preferred his own methods of conditioning, far more subtle and graceful, though the challenge of untangling Will’s fears and emotional turmoil being presented to him was interesting, and promised to be well worth all the time and effort.

In all fairness to Will, Hannibal could appreciate his survival instincts. He was the lion in the room after all, a danger and dangerous, though he had done nothing yet to merit such a reaction from Will. It irked him and Will read even that from his smooth expressionless face, gaining insight at the worst possible moments though Will was confused about the source of Hannibal’s irritation. Even now while exhausted and stressed out, Will was beginning to learn things about him, absorbing Hannibal into his psyche. Pure empathy meant he was receiver and gave Will certain advantages, but it did not make him psychic. All the information was still left up to interpretation on his part. Will’s vivid imagination and keen intellect could fill in a lot of blanks, even make considerable jumps when it had to. It was what made him so unique and an exceptional profiler but Will was not infallible or unbiased. His fear and the pieces of others he stored deep within his psyche tainted the edges of his reasoning.

So Hannibal touched Will gently, stroking his stumble covered cheek, something he wasn’t expecting, drawing back when he was done to grip at the Omega’s shoulders lightly. Perplexed, Will’s eyes went wayward again, finally locked in on Hannibal’s footwear. They were custom Italian leather and should be appreciated, but now was not the moment for celebrating fashion choices.

“Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?” Hannibal asked, intentionally keeping his voice soft and even, intent on watching how Will responded to him. Surprise was in the forefront of Will’s expression. The Omega had not been expecting that sort of courtesy, the offer of sustenance. Hannibal could tell Will was not used to people being kind to him, making a mental note of it. The keys to Will’s inner kingdom might lie in the way of honey instead of vinegar. The polite offer of food that Hannibal would have made to any guest, much less his own mate, was enough for Will’s gaze to come upward to the height of Hannibal’s collar by his volition, the Winsor knot of his bright blue paisley tie under intense scrutiny.

“I…I….Will stammered, caught off guard enough for his blue eyes to start darting from Hannibal’s sharp cheekbones to thin lips in rapid repetition. The omega licked his chapped lips and shuffled his feet as if the cool marble tile beneath them were suddenly uneven. Will had the look of someone who had lived for too long on unhealthy amounts of caffeine, not enough sleep, and had only a passing nod with nutrition. He was unkept and unloved, and it showed in the pronouncement of his ribs and the sallow nature of his skin. The Omega had been someone’s else tool for so long Will wasn’t used to being treated as a human being with basic needs and desires.

Hannibal wondered how long it had been since anyone had asked Will that kind of question, asked him if he ever wanted anything. “I shall prepare something light then. Afterward, you will bathe and I‘ll find you something to wear after seeing to your wounds again. We will talk more about this arrangement between us when you are fed and fit to do so.” Hannibal stated like Will had answered him intelligently and at length, taking matters into his own hands as he let go of Will’s shoulders to start in the direction of his kitchen. He was giving Will what he least expected- a choice.

Not bothering to look back, Hannibal was pleased to hear Will follow him in his wake. Like a hesitant stray, his Omega padded after him, keeping his distance but definitely there. The collar, the material one for public show that remained in its box for now and the invisible one that would mark him better than any leather and steel ornament, would be placed around Will’s neck by his own hands.

oOo
TBC

Chapter Text

Will had to admit to himself that Hannibal’s house was impressive, and this coming from a person who barely acknowledged such things. Places kind of lost their value after seeing so many backgrounds wet and ruined with blood, decorated little bits of people, painted with sorrow and terror.

Closer to being a small mansion in size and excess, the spaces within were echoes of the Alpha in everything around them, down to the finest details. Bold color schemes were cast in rich fabrics and expensive materials, but still somehow managed not to be too ostentatious. One saw and felt wealth but was not bludgeoned over the head with it. Everything was well made and meant to last, all the stonework marble or heavy slate and the furniture heavy dark wood, the rugs really hand-woven, and the art signed originals.

It appeared that Hannibal certainly liked his controlled clutter. All his walls, corners, nooks, shelves, and crannies seemed to be filled with an assortment of things, random but obviously expensive, wonderful knickknacks and things that Will didn’t even knew existed. Most surprising was the amount of modern technology that was streamlined in with all the antique and ancient, which Will realized was ridiculous presumption on his part. Hannibal just didn’t seem like the type to own an Ipad but there one was on a desk that looked like it was intricately carved from Madagascar Ebony which Will was pretty damn sure was illegal to own.

As varied as everything was, it all performed together in a harmonious manner. Passing through one room after the other, Will played a little game with himself of ‘what don’t I like about this room’, the Omega finding some of the combinations and ornamentations profoundly ugly, off-putting to his own personal taste. His sense of aesthetics was keen though, telling him it all worked even if he didn‘t appreciate it, much like disliking Pollock while still acknowledging the artist as a master. Will found himself wondering what that said about Hannibal. He much preferred his own little house hidden deep out in the woods, with its rustic homey lived in feel. The home he probably never see again.

Clenching his jaw against the wash of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, Will wrapped his arms around himself tightly, fists clenching into the crimson silk robe that smelled distractingly like Hannibal. It made sense, it being his robe, but it still annoyed Will who was torn between losing himself to the pervasive scents of ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg, or burning the damn thing just to spite the Alpha. As it was, fire might be unnecessary for he was already well on his way to ruining the material. Will was sure his filthy skin and half healed wounds had already stained the delicate silk. Curling his fingers into it to grip the robe like it was an anchor probably wasn’t doing the material any favors either.

Feeling guilty about it while chiding himself not to, Will focused on following Hannibal, memorizing the lines of his back and broad shoulders that were accentuated by the tailored suit he wore. On anyone else, Will thought it would look almost vulgar, the dark teal plaid clearly not for everyone. Like his house though, the combination of color and patterns played with the eye pleasantly instead of offending it, the man wearing the suit and not vice versa. Will had the sneaking suspicion though Hannibal was one of those rare people who could wear a burlap sack and make it look good. The Alpha had a bearing that royalty trained a lifetime to achieve, and wielded courtesy and manners like they were weapons. Pretty appearances and well rehearsed social overtures aside, this was a very dangerous man. Though he was confused about quite a few things, Will knew that for a fact, remaining wary as he entered Hannibal‘s kitchen.

While impressive, the kitchen was unlike the rest of the house. Comparatively it was almost minimalist in nature, everything here serving a purpose and function, the Alpha obviously one who took cooking as a serious matter. Will could tell it was also the space Hannibal spent most of his time in other than the room he slept. Will was trying very hard to not think about that room, Hannibal’s bedroom, as he studied the Alpha’s kitchen. Will chose to lean against the counter to do this, the only chair in the kitchen being in a far corner near a staircase. It was a leather bound number and looked comfortable, but it had been purposely put out of the way. It gave the impression that Hannibal liked his guests away of this space so Will intentionally placed himself within it to off balance the Alpha.

It didn’t appear to work to his advantage though, Hannibal too busy removing his suit’s jacket, waistcoat, and tie, dressing himself in professional looking chef’s apron to notice. Even stripped down to white on white, Hannibal remained impressive, moving with control and grace through his environment as he retrieved ingredients from various drawers and cupboards. Will shifted uneasily, reminded self consciously that he was still only wearing a robe that belonged to the man cooking for him.

But oddly enough no collar and wasn’t that a small mercy and mystery all rolled into one. Will had half expected to be cast in one of the many hells he had only seen the aftermath of and lived again in the relative safety of his own head. This sort of situation had never even occurred to him as a possibility, but the night was still young. No reason to get ahead of himself. In his experience since birth, life didn’t give Will nice things.

His sullen brooding was interrupted by a tall glass of water placed in front of him by Hannibal. Will regarded the clear liquid with an air of suspicion, glancing sideways at the Alpha, who for all intents and purposes, was ignoring him, more involved with preparing a meal for them than whether or not Will decided to drink the water.

Hannibal was working with a vividly red piece of meat in hand that Will could only presume was a steak of some kind, though he couldn’t even begin to guess what kind of cut it was or from what animal. He ate more fish than anything, usually catching it fresh from the stream that ran near his house.

Wetting a finger to run it along the rim of the glass, Will carefully avoided thinking further about his former home, letting the clear sound the glass emitted to clear his head. Will told himself that he shouldn’t have been surprised to discover that the glass was actually crystal. Of course, it was.

If Hannibal was bothered by the impromptu noise, he didn’t show it, too busy expertly slivering the meat into thin pieces and getting out plates. Tasks completed, Hannibal then mixed the meat in a bowl with fresh lemon juice and shaving from a real block of parmesan. Will knew that good cheese came in blocks but had never seen anyone actually use one before. The mixture was placed delicately over greenery that looked fancier than anything Will had ever eaten before.

“This is something light?” Will mused to himself. It looked like something right out of a cooking show on the Food Channel as the plates were drizzled with a bit of a flourish on the chef’s part by two different kinds of oils from unmarked bottles, one greenish and the other lightly golden to contrast beautifully against the red of the meat and the crisp green of the salad. It looked more like art than a meal in Will’s opinion. He hoped Hannibal wasn’t expecting applause, the Alpha finishing his performance by pouring two glasses of wine, something a bright clear red that smelled like tart cherries to Will, both plate and glass placed in front of Will.

“A typical Piedmont style Carpaccio. Chilled rare sirloin with Meyers lemon and shaved Reggiano parmesan served on a bed of baby arugula with just a touch of extra virgin cold pressed olive oil and white truffle oil. Paired with a young Valpolicella, light enough in body to not overpower the steak’s delicate texture, but flavorful enough to compliment the cheese and arugula. Bon appétit.” Hannibal said in way that struck Will as surprisingly informative. The man wasn’t bragging about the food or even his skill in creating it, though there was definitely a whole lot of pride there. Hannibal was simply delighted with the concept and preparation of food in and of itself.

Will blinked, stuck between perplexed awe and disbelief, having never met anyone who got so happy about their meal. “Seriously?”

Whatever reaction Hannibal had been expecting, that wasn’t it, that much Will was sure of. What he could dare to tell from Hannibal’s non reaction was that the Alpha was a touch crestfallen. “I’m very careful about what I put into my body. Which means I end up preparing most meals myself.” Hannibal said evenly enough to make Will think that the chef was miffed with him.

Dry swallowing hard enough that he could hear his throat click -he really should have quit being a stubborn ass long enough to drink the water instead of playing with it- Will tried the dish, all the while feeling like a horrible guest. He wasn’t one for raw meat whether it was dressed up or not with oils and eloquent descriptions, but embarrassment spurred him into action.

“It’s delicious. Thank you.” Will admitted quietly, surprised into an honest confession by the meal. The flavors burst on his palette, fresh citrus cleaning his tongue to refresh it for with the succulent flavor of steak so tender it melted in his mouth, the need to chew more for the cheese and roughage. Tempted into experimenting, Will tried the food with the offered wine.

Even to a laymen of cuisine such as himself, Will could tell it all worked perfectly together, a small miracle of taste taking place in his mouth. Will found himself finishing his food more quickly than he would have liked and was little dizzy from the wine. Grimacing at himself for his carelessness, Will gulped down the water even though it chased the deliciousness out of his mouth.

Not entirely sated and sighing, Will risked looking over at Hannibal to find the Alpha watching him, wine glass still mostly full in hand and his plate basically untouched. Someone else might presume that the Alpha was simply being still, giving a guest space to eat without the interruption of conversation, but Will could tell that he was being studied by a very pleased predator. It made Will wonder what kind Hannibal was, even as he eyed the other man’s plate.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Will tried to distract himself by trying his hand at casual conversation, which frankly was not his forte in the best circumstances.

“No, but you may have mine if you still are.” Hannibal not making it an option as he switched out their plates, taking Will’s empty dish to the sink. He knew his momentary absence would prompt the Omega to eat, though he would miss Will’s reaction to his food. Though Will’s manners and dinner etiquette were borderline deplorable- Will hunkered over his food like someone was planning on stealing it from him, the omega eating it quick hurried bites- Hannibal had never seen anyone enjoy his food like him, like every bite was an epiphany and salvation all in one. Will also didn’t seem to realize that he was groaning aloud while he ate. It entirely made up for his lackluster initial reaction to the presented dish, Will‘s honest responses delightful to watch as he devoured the meat which was Hannibal‘s most recent kill.

The steak had once been a rather persistent sommelier from one of the many wine venues Hannibal frequented. The man had made the unfortunate mistake of insulting Hannibal while he was still within earshot after the doctor had politely turned down the purchase of some rather sub par Pinot Noir the man had aggressively suggested. Instead of forcing his opinion and shoddy palette of other customers, the former sommelier now served a higher purpose by filling his mate’s belly. He also went well with the Valpolicella Hannibal ended up purchasing that day, the same one that they were enjoying at this very moment, essentially making it one stop shopping for the Chesapeake Ripper.

Pride be damned, Will hardly hesitated after the plate was set before him, polishing the dish off with ease. “Not one to waste food?” Will heard Hannibal ask over the scraping of his plate.

“No, I grew up poor. We didn’t have food to waste.” Will said and instantly regretted it, the Omega glaring at his empty wine glass. A full stomach and good wine on top of it had loosened his tongue.

“The ‘we’ being?” Hannibal prompted as he retrieved the now empty plate and wine glass, purposely giving Will space again with feigned inattention.

“No, I’m not doing this.” was the terse answer, Hannibal looking over his shoulder to find Will glaring at his kitchen appliances like their existence personally offended him .

“Doing what?” Hannibal feigned ignorance and earned a sour look for the attempt.

“Telling you about myself. A psychiatrist.” Will was pulling up forts, the Omega sliding back into himself, his arms curling about his waist protectively in a physical show of it. “Someone who likes to play in other people’s heads for fun.”

Hannibal bought time by slowly drying his hands with a clothe. “I would like to know more about you on a personal level, not a professional one.”

Will glared back in answer. “My name is Will Graham. It is 9:48pm where I am in Baltimore, Maryland, in your house, and I am a person, not your plaything. I have a life……..had a life.” he amended stiffly at the end.

“You still have it.” Hannibal chose to keep his distance for now, giving Will the counter space as he leaned up against the refrigerator, the stainless steel cool against his back.

“No.” Will stated without any doubt held in his voice. “We both know that’s not true. You say you want to know who I am. I say you haven’t earned the right to. I know who I am, what I am. I am an Omega but I don’t need an Alpha to function, to control me despite what everyone else thinks.”

“I have no intention in doing so.” Hannibal lied. “I see no appeal in it and have much better things to do with my time than look after someone constantly.”

That seemed to throw Will for a loop, the Omega giving him strange looks in return. “Then why bother? Why buy me at all?” Will asked who realized he must of blinked because one moment Hannibal was by the refrigerator and the next he was in Will’s personal space, his breathe hot upon Will’s face and his eyes flashing more scarlet than brown.

“I realize that this is a overwhelming change in your existence, one that you have spent the majority of in your own company but do not play the fool with me. You are better than that. You know why.” Looking up into earthen eyes tinged with pinpoints of blood, the edge of Hannibal’s mask was lifted and all that was Alpha slipped out from underneath, overwhelming Will to make him drop to his knees and sway there. Power, strong enough to choke the air from him without exerting actual pressure, shrouded Will as he gasped and shuddered against the fine floor of Hannibal’s kitchen to stay there. He felt need like never before. A need to obey, a need to please, a need do whatever Hannibal told him whether it was to stay there on the floor twitching or spread his legs for the Alpha, Will feeling slick begin to drip his thighs. It smelled sweet like white flowers.

Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the unseen power pulled in, tucking back in like Hannibal was origami, the Alpha folding and creasing sheets of himself to twist perception into believing he was benign crafted crane.

Ignoring the hand offered to him and freed from a need that left his innards feeling like soup, Will rose to his feet with a resolve that surprised Hannibal, the Omega centering himself as he faced the Alpha. Will had been ripped from his home, his life shredded, he had no idea where his dogs were or even if they were still alive, and now he was in a pissing contest of wills with the Alpha who had purchased him with slick cooling tacky between his thighs. Well two could play at that game. Will knew what he was.

Want smacking into Hannibal like a blow to the chest, enough so that it made him step back from Will as his instincts screamed at him to run. Run from this Omega whose grayish blue eyes met his own unflinching to watch the crimson dilate and his inner core temperature spike, his nose filling with sharp pheromones like peaches turned to floral nectar, enough so that his head began to feel lightly void. Hannibal bit the inside of his cheek until it bled to get some of himself back from the edge, recognizing what was happening to him, his body going into Rut.

While Omegas were physically slaves to their own bodies due to Heats, an Alpha was inflicted with Rut. Both were states of breeding for the genders that left them weak, impressionable to suggestion and bad decisions, and gullible enough to believe in the most obvious lies if the answer to everything was sex. Hannibal planned in advance for his own seasons, his Ruts a private matter, making arrangements and keeping himself locked away during the length of it. He had never had one forced upon him before, the true power of a pure Omega revealed. If Will desired it, he could have Hannibal crawling on the ground and licking his feet, and all that just from his scent. Gripping the counter to keep himself upright, Hannibal tried not think about what would happen if Will decided to touch him, though Hannibal wanted him to, was desperate for it.

Thankfully, Will was not cruel though, only making a point it would seem. The assault on Hannibal was over in an instant, leaving him heavily breathing as he tried to maintain his dignity with weak knees and a light head.

“You showed me yours, so I showed you mine.” Will mocked, feeling uncomfortable as he tried to convince himself that he had been backed into a corner and he was allowed to defend himself and to stop being such a damn omega about everything. Even now his idiotic instincts made him want to grovel for Hannibal’s forgiveness for being defiant, guilt chewing at his inner core for the show of force.

Focusing on redressing himself, Hannibal ignored the barb and his erection, willing the later to go away as he moved slowly to retrieve the outer shell of his suit, waistcoat, and tie. The Omega had no idea how dangerous that little stunt had been, seething parts of Hannibal’s psyche fighting with him to lash out at Will, to see how many knives in the kitchen would fit themselves into the Omega’s body before he could bleed out. Control and the fact that Will so damnable good stayed his hands, the scent akin to jasmine soothing the monster within him. Hannibal swallowed shakily, his mouth watering for something other than food for once in a long while.

“You have been very rude, Will. What is to be done about that?” Hannibal intoned levelly as he knotted his tie in the wider style he preferred.

“You’ll have to forgive me while I come to terms with being bought and sold like a teacup for your kitchen.” Will snapped. Hannibal‘s words had been softly spoken but there was an underlying threat there. He was sure of it.

“Hardly. I buy sets. Not individual items.” Hannibal said in a dry tone. It took a moment for Will to realize that the Alpha was being sarcastic.

“Ok, so I’m more like an old chipped mug. Whatever. The point is that I’m fading, fading out of a life of my own making. I don’t know what that means for me.” Will sighed, rubbing his temples as a headache threatened to make its existence known to him. The wine and him letting go like that had probably only aided it in its arrival. “Or to you. If you even care…”

“It means you create forts and make assumptions too quickly. If you had only spoken with me in a civil manner, all this unpleasantness could have been avoided.” Hannibal told him, back to looking unruffled and immaculate. Will sort of hated the Alpha for that. He had to get some proper clothing. He wished he was wearing pants, feeling sticky and disgusting. Will wished a lot of things. “You can have your life, Will. I have already stated that I do not want it.” Which had deeper meaning that it really should.

Will’s mind moved quickly, picking apart Hannibal’s words. “You would let me keep teaching?” he made himself ask, even though it sounded too good to be true.

“Yes.” Hannibal kept his answer short on this. Elaboration would only complicate matters at the moment and Hannibal liked to leave room in conversations to move around in. Simple answers could be dressed up into anything he wanted later on. That moment of victory over him had cost Will more than he knew though he didn’t know it yet. By tipping his hand, Hannibal knew what to expect now from him and would be prepared for it next time. He could forgive such trespasses against him, but he would not forget what Will had done. Hannibal never forgot slights.

“Would I be back in the field?” Will was testing his luck, the situation surreal enough in his opinion for it. Caution was meant to ride on the wind after all.

“I wanted to have this conversation with you at a later date.” Hannibal supposed it was inevitable though. Will didn’t seem the type the let things lie where they may for any given length of time.

“Tough shit. We’re having it now.” Will said through gritted teeth. His life had been put on hold by other people for long enough. “Answer the question.”

“Under supervision.” Hannibal decided, already envisioning that phone call. The power play over Jack Crawford would be well worth the time spent negotiating it.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to baby-sit me.” Will pointed out, pressing his luck. He couldn’t imagine Hannibal being in a generous mood at the moment.

“Alana has already stated to me that it is not good for you and I happen to respect her observations, deferring to her judgment.” Hannibal dropped the name like chumming the waters of Will’s mind, wanting to see how he reacted to the association.

“You know Alana? Alana Bloom?” Will took the bait beautifully, his face softening as he said the raven haired beta‘s name. It made the back of Hannibal’s neck prickle oddly, the Alpha unfamiliar with the sensation.

“Yes. I had the pleasure of mentoring her. She is a colleague of mine, one I hold in high regard.” Hannibal explained, becoming generous with his compliments. The better he spoke about Alana, the more Will appeared to relax. The Omega’s reaction shouldn’t have made his stomach sour so. Hannibal decided to blame it on too much wine and not enough solid food.

“Huh. Small world.” and with that Will was set back on his heels, obviously reevaluating things in his head as this new information was processed. Hannibal knew he had been cast as the villain in Will’s mind. He could change this perception though by keeping Will off balance with the unexpected. The Omega anticipated the worst from him, from any Alpha really, so Hannibal intended to present the opposite.

“Would you care for some port? I like to have something sweet after a meal.” Hannibal continued to do just that, Will looking at him like he just asked something indecent of him.

“You didn’t eat anything.” Will pointed out though he was curious to see what Hannibal considered dessert. In Will’s world, a ‘light meal’ would have been tuna straight out of the can or a cold cup of shitty coffee, not the five star fare he had just eaten. Dessert could be a revelation for all he knew.

“Perhaps I just like the excuse of one to have dessert.” Hannibal offered a slight smile, another feint that made Will tilt the world inside his head. Hannibal liked that he had to do this. He was used to moving though realms made of smokes and mirrors, but he had never had to navigate one so carefully before. If he was not vigilant, Will would spot the illusion he was trying to create and shatter it. Hannibal liked that the Omega had that ability, one of the few who could. It gave meaning to the game and Hannibal a purpose to play it.

Will watching in fascination as small tulip shaped wine glasses were acquired and a dark bottle was produced from the depths of a small refrigerator that Will had mistook for a cabinet, one whose space seemed dedicated solely to fine alcohol and its proper cooling. Tawny fluid, clear and bright as smoky topaz, glittered in the crystal, smelling sweetly of raisins and nuts to Will. Little containers were also taken out of the proper refrigerator, small decadent pieces of what looked to be cake placed on flatware and garnished expertly with sauces and actual shavings of white chocolate.

“A baklava amaretto cheesecake with dulce de leche sauce, garnished with vanilla chocolate curls. Paired with the tawny brandy, it will be a delight on your tongue.” Hannibal said as he presented Will with his version of dessert.

Will stared intently at the little bit of sugary perfection like it held the secrets to life and the universe within its creamy layers. Hannibal could only wonder about what the Omega was thinking about. As far as he was concerned, the dessert looked presentable. It was not his usual sort of fare but Hannibal liked to experiment, cheesecake making versatile and could be made in small batches. “Why are you being so nice?” Will asked the cheesecake, making Hannibal bite back a grin as he sipped his port after thoroughly scenting it. “You don’t seem….nice…” The omega seemed to be searching for a better word to describe Hannibal but it alluded him.

“I’m not?” Hannibal toyed with his cheesecake and Will simultaneously.

“No. You’re not.” Will decided, avoiding the alcohol to focus on the sweet. The honey and cream cheesecake melting like food love and sweet ecstasy on his tongue. “You’re polite. Polished. Calm, no….more stoic, but not nice. You don’t do nice so why fake it with me? A little hypocritical, don‘t you think all things considered.”

“I can because I want to, but only to you.” Hannibal reasoned out for the both of them. “I do not want your fear.” And least not at the moment, Hannibal added privately.

“Fear and I are constant companions. It’s the price I pay for my ’gifts’, what is demanded of me.” Will said, giving up his resolve to slug down the port. It wasn’t whiskey but he made do. “You overpaid for me. I fear my company is cluttered with a collection of neuroses that tend to make me ill in body and mind.”

“Then it is a good thing that I am a doctor and psychiatrist.” Hannibal said in an offhand manner, making a mental note to teach Will something about wine educate or at least appreciation of it. The port was really meant to be sipped and savored, not shot down like cheap swill. “I used to be a surgeon with a specialty for emergency trauma.” He elaborated upon noticing Will’s questioning look.

“Quick mind. Quicker decisions of who lives and who dies.” Will was studying Hannibal back for what felt like the first time since their meeting. Hannibal found he didn’t mind surprisingly enough. He knew the image he presented to the world, the well made person suit he wore to hide his truth from those not ready for it, but he wondered how well it would hold up under Will’s scrutiny now that he had the Omega’s attention. How much of what lay beneath he could accept before it broke him and Hannibal would have to kill him.

Or not.

Will wasn’t all that he appeared to be either. He had already bared his fangs and flashed his claws at Hannibal. It made the Alpha wonder if he had ever used them on anyone or intended to. “Sadly the latter. I killed someone, or more accurately I couldn’t save someone, but it felt like killing them. It was something that happened one time too many so I transferred my passion of anatomy into the culinary arts. I fix minds instead of bodies and so far no one has died as a result from my therapy.”

“That’s comforting to know, Doctor.” Will said in a flat tone, not liking the idea of anyone inside his head, much less the man who was to be his Alpha.

“Hannibal, please. Call me Hannibal, William.” the Alpha corrected in a chiding yet gentle manner, making Will wince.

“Fine but no promises. Just as long as you call me Will and not William. It makes me twitch. I feel like I’m back in school and about to be sent to the principal’s office.” Will said, before taking a deep breath to help strengthen his resolve before plowing forward again. “What about my house?” was like pulling teeth it was that painful to ask, but they had to get back to the uncomfortable topic that was Will‘s life on hiatus. The Omega studied his fingers that were ruining the silk woven between the digits.

“You may keep it though you will make my home your main residence. Your house would be ideal place for you to stay at when clients call me away for long periods of time.” Hannibal told him. He had read the slender file that came with Will’s purchase. His case was unique due to the fact that he owned property and had an entire household of things. “The same goes for your bank accounts. I will arrange for you to have full access to anything you may need.”

Most Omegas were sold as an entirely blank sheet with no assets to speak of, taking only personal items with them, most of which could all fit in a suitcase, to their new homes that always belonged to other people. They were not expected to work so most had no income to claim, the money from their purchase going to the Auction and their families. Even most laws prohibited them from owning property like land, making even the purchase of a car difficult, if not impossible. Without the help and support of an Alpha or Beta in their life, Omegas were the adored pariah of society, apart but separate from it, coveted by all yet acknowledged by none.

Will was the unicorn of his gender, a functional middle aged Omega who was single and yet still relatively sane who held down two difficult jobs that paid a substantial income, and owned not only a vehicle, but property and a home as well. His outrage and even his continued defiance understandable. Will deserved more than being screwed over by some trick of fate and some bad heat suppressants, but Hannibal was not one to turn down a gift placed right into his lap. He was willing to make concessions though to bind Will to him. Hannibal found hooks of his own making in the mind were more effective than anything made of steel.

“And my dogs?” Will asked because he had to. He didn’t even know if they were still alive. For all he knew, animal control could have already taken them. He didn’t want to dwell on that thought, the outcome of it.

“You may visit them. I’ll arrange something for their care at your house but I will not have them in my home.” Hannibal was willing to make deals but he wasn’t about to have animal hair embedding his furniture or the smell of dander permeating his clothing. The line in the sand had to be drawn somewhere. “Your papers stated that they were in the care of Alana. I’ll will call her tomorrow about dropping them off in Wolf Trap after I contact a caretaker for them. You may see them tomorrow.”

Swallowing back a wealth of relief, Will nodded. It wasn’t perfect but it was better than he could have ever dared hoped for. His dogs were fine, his house was still his, and he could go back to work. He even still had money he could call his own and after a lifetime of growing up poor, that came with its own sweet sort of reprieve. Will felt weak from it as he leaned heavily against the counter to keep himself upright. He was willing to call this a win.

Even in victory, Will remained cautious. As previously stated and thoroughly believed by Will, life did not give him nice things, at least not for long. Hannibal wasn’t a kind man either. Will knew he wasn’t doing this out of the goodness of his heart. Just by looking around at his surrounding and even what little he had seen of Hannibal, Will knew the Alpha was wealthy, but it was the kind of rich a person was born into. Old money, Will thought, liking how the words settled in his head to fit. The casual manner Hannibal used and wore wealth told him old money, the Alpha’s accent telling Will it was of European origin. Class, manner, and the annoying sense of entitlement spoke of nobility in the blood somewhere if not directly descended from a throne.

So Hannibal could give Will back his house, his car, and even his money because he could afford to. Will knew intrinsically that Hannibal’s generosity toward him meant nothing to him, a means to an end. The Alpha was making these magnanimous gestures toward him because Hannibal wanted something from Will. What the something was though was still left up to conjecture. The man technically owned him now, owned his body. Hannibal could take whatever he wanted from Will, at least physically, whether he gave consent or not. Worse, he would be well within his rights to do so. There was something much larger and far more complex than just being a sexual outlet for an Alpha here.

“So Jack acts like I’m a fortune cookie and seer of murder. Alana treats me like a friend with special needs which is sadly not too far from the truth.” Will said slowly, picking his words with care. “How do you see me, Doctor Lecter?”

Hazy blue touched with gray unflinchingly met sanguine earth, the Omega holding the Alpha’s eyes with his own. “Like the mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by.”

Deception was thoroughly looked for on Hannibal’s face by Will who scowled at the Alpha. “That‘s not a real answer. You‘re confusing and I don’t still know if you’re trying to be my therapist or my support group.”

“I can be whatever you need me to be but I would like to be your friend.” Hannibal admitted, giving an inch to see how far in miles Will took it.

Staring back openly, Will worked the meaning of word through his mind and how it applied to him. “I don’t have friends, at least not in the normal context of the word.” he said tentatively. “And to be completely honest, I don’t how to respond to that from the man who has purchased me.”

“Then I ask you to consider your transaction serendipity and the unsavory means to a fortuitous end.” Hannibal tried to watch Will’s expression darken. He changed tactics accordingly. “I wasn’t the one who supplied you with deficient heat suppressants, Will. I will also remind you that you could have ended up somewhere far worse than my company like underneath Jack Crawford’s thumb or in Frederick’s ham handed possession.”

“Why are you trying to alienate me from Jack?” Will chose to pursue that line of questioning, not even wanting to touch upon the subject of Chilton and his agendas for Will. Part of Will wanted to feel grateful toward Hannibal for that alone but that was what the Alpha wanted, why Chilton had been brought up in the first place.

“He abandoned you. I would hardly consider that an ally.” Hannibal pointed out.

“Abandonment requires expectations. I have none.” Will said with a casualness that would have been heartbreaking if Hannibal were other people. As it was, the statement was noted for later use. “Are you jealous?” was said in near genuine amusement by Will, a tone Hannibal had yet to experience until now.

“Hardly.” Hannibal snorted, contempt coloring it. “I simply have no desire for you to associate with someone who cares so little for your health and mental well being.” Though in retrospect, Jack might be useful. The man was angry about something and anger could always be used as leverage toward a goal by someone who knew an opportunity when they saw one. Hannibal had every intention of letting Will return to work in the field with the FBI but with him by the Omega’s side. The idea of being on the hunt for the Chesapeake Ripper held a certain appeal to him, and would bring a refreshing bit of insight and complexity to the game. It would be like the fox riding with the hunters after the hounds.

“You are jealous….no, not jealous.” the empath’s sudden insight reminding Hannibal how careful he needed to be as he could feel Will picking him apart in his head. “Possessive. You don’t like him because he’s an alpha I’m close with and work closely with.”

“I treat what I consider to be mine well, with the respect it deserves even if it doesn’t have the same sense to apply it to themselves.” Hannibal said, gathering up the empty plates and glasses to rinse them off, placing them in the dishwasher along with the rest. Clean up was well practiced and quick, the stone counters gleaming soon enough under Hannibal’s care.

“In regard to?” Will asked, tasting the flavor of Hannibal’s sentiment in his mind. The Alpha kept trying to flirt with him, or at least compliment him. It was a little confusing to him. Most if not all did not make the effort.

“I will draw you a bath and then I think a good nights sleep is in order.” Hannibal stated, his tone leaving no room for argument but Will was always game for one.

“I don’t sleep.” Will grumbled, the bath part of that statement perplexing. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had a bath. He was more of a shower kind of guy. “And whose bed won’t I be sleeping in?”

Hannibal leveled a look at Will as he drew near, careful to telegraph his movements to the Omega and the intention of his actions as he took Will by the hand to start leading him out of the kitchen. To his credit, Will only flinched a little bit but let himself be guided back through rooms he found both vulgar and splendiferous. The pair returned to the darkly tiled bathroom from before, Will’s mask still on the floor where Hannibal had left it. Will stared down at it, leaning against the double sinks, trying to decide what Hannibal planned to do with it and him. He also wondered when and where the subject of his collar would make itself known. Will knew he would eventually had to wear one, his gender’s lot in life and the law.

Off to the side, Hannibal was filling the giant bathtub with steaming hot water, salts, and oils that tinged the bath a bluish green, making it smell oddly enough like cucumber and aloe, scents that Will didn’t normally associate with bathing. “Shower off before getting into the bath. I will find some nightwear for you to wear, leave it out on the counter for you.” Hannibal told Will, picking up the mask on his way out.

Will wanted to ask Hannibal if he planned on keeping the damn thing but the idea of having a moment to himself, by himself, was too alluring at the moment to give up. Nodding, Will kept watch as Hannibal left him to his own devices, even going so far as to lock the door behind him to ensure Will of his privacy. Will wasn’t sure why the clicking of that lock sounded so false and damning.
oOo
TBC

Chapter Text

When Hannibal stepped out of his personal bathroom ready for bed, it didn’t come as a surprise to him find Will bodily wrapped around a pillow, clutching at it to bury his face into its plush surface, half hidden under another at his back. The analytical part of Hannibal’s mind took note of this, the depth of the Omega’s trauma, filing it away for later. It would be important to remember. It would mean there was a very good chance that Will would have a desperation for touch, a skin hunger that Hannibal would be able to use to his advantage.

For far too long, Will had been left on his own in the woods with nothing but dogs to keep him company. That much was obvious. Omegas were meant to be with another, were physically conditioned for it, biologically coded with the need for contact. To inflict that state on one, isolation self imposed or forced, was beyond cruel. Will’s suffering went far beyond his mind, whether he realized it or not. The damage ran deep, deeper than muscle memory right down past bone marrow to the cracked foundations of his soul.

The Alpha part of Hannibal’s being, the predator that resided within, the other him snarled at the damage done to the Omega, his Omega, his mate. He could feel the wrongness of it and it wounded him in an unexpected way. Hannibal was not used to hurting, disliked it. It felt filthy, like a sickness that coated him from the inside out. Will should be wanting and reaching for his touch, not hiding or protecting himself from it.

Instead of nesting in the center of the bed needing his Alpha with open arms and parted legs, the Omega sought out Hannibal’s pillows and found comfort in the corner of his mattress, taking no covering for his own, though Hannibal knew he kept his bedroom cool. Even now Will shivered as Hannibal slipped in between the sheets.

Any thoughts of leaving Will where he was, like Hannibal had originally intended to do their first night together, were dismissed. Careful to keep his movements slow, the Alpha reaching over to gently hook his hands around the Omega‘s waist mindful of his still healing wounds, pulling Will across the bed until his back fit flush to Hannibal’s chest. He could already smell the panic spilling into Will’s scent, his body stiffening in the hold upon him though their bodies fitting together neatly like prayer and faith. Will’s noise of surprise was muffled by the pillow he refused to relinquish. Hannibal wondered if Will was trying to smother himself into unconsciousness with it.

“Shhh……Go to sleep.” Hannibal murmured softly, nosing at soft chocolate curls to delight in Will’s scent. Underneath all that new sweat, terror, and stress were the softer odors of pure Omega. Earthen and sweet with too ripe peaches ready to burst their fuzzy skins and that of dust being hit by rain with just the slightest metallic edge to it like bright new pennies being held in the warm palm of hand. Will remained tense with his face buried in the pillow though, his skin becoming slick with renewed sweat as he tried to curl away from Hannibal, becoming a moist trembling ball of strung out nerves.

This would have to be addressed if Hannibal wanted to remain dry and comfortable while he slept in the future. “I’m not going to force myself upon you, Will. I wouldn’t do that.” Hannibal soothed the words into the back of Will’s head. Freeing an arm, he took to slowly running a light hand up and down Will’s side, over his ribs which were too prominent in Hannibal’s opinion, personal and professional, the bone cage producing a rhythm under his fingertips.

Hannibal knew Will didn’t trust him, much less believe him, could smell it on the Omega’s scent and read it in the rigid lines of his body which were not going to be conducive toward slumber. Will had been lied to and disappointed too many times by alphas to start believing one at face value now. Sighing for so many different reasons, Hannibal rested his forehead to the sodden nape of Will’s neck and settled the Omega firmer in his arms before falling asleep. One of them had to be well rested for this endeavor.

oOo

Against all odds and reasoning, Hannibal seemed to be asleep, his breathing even and his body still against Will‘s back. The Omega’s forehead rested against the back of his head so that he was nosing the velvet of his nape. Careful not to dislodge him, Will shifted experimentally to find that Hannibal’s grip upon him was still just as tight in slumber as it was in waking. He was trapped against Alpha for now who was like a solid muscular line of warmth upon Will’s back.

It didn’t feel……bad though. Will released his death grip on the pillow so that he could breath a little easier. It was unusual, unwelcome, unexpected, but not necessarily bad. Despite everything, Will felt protected, which he knew was just the soft squishy part of his Omega biology, the side of self that yearned to be dominated and sheltered by another. Try as he might to keep himself vigilantly on edge, it was like a burden had just been suddenly lifted from his shoulders, his body relaxing traitorously into the solid warmth that was Hannibal. The Alpha’s scent was more noticeable to him now, the Omega‘s body answering to Hannibal‘s presence as moisture collected noticeably between his thighs and Will had to keep his hips from pressing back into Hannibal‘s groin. Grimacing as the slick’s sensation, Will knew it was all chemical pinging between his skull‘s interior and gray matter, his long ignored instincts and bodily demands responding to the stimuli like a man dying from thirst stumbling upon an oasis. Instead of taking sips, he was drowning.

Resolutions to stay awake and scoot away from Hannibal as soon as possible were forgotten as Will’s eyelids grew heavy and his body turned defector on him. Thankfully, his body seemed more interested in getting some rest than getting fucked. His muscles grew pliant and lax, and his skin’s surface dried off as an air of calm evaporating the last remnants of his nervous sweat.

Despite all his fears and trepidations, Will fell into a peaceful sleep.

oOo

Will woke up fuzzy, but not his usual ‘wtf’ kind of fuzzy from strange dreams and even worse nightmares. It was the unfamiliar sensation of having slept well and long, for hours upon hours of uninterrupted healing sleep. No blood, no horrible half remembered crime scenes, no exposed viscera glistening in the mind’s foxfire. Will couldn’t remember the last time he had committed himself to such a slumber and wasn’t that depressing.

The warmth that surrounded him was unexpected as well, Will’s waking mind noticing that he was blanketed in it. For lack of a better word, it felt nice, being so soft and toasty. Held lightly in that comforting sensation, his body seemed to melt into it like chocolate into marshmallow.

Still foggy and waking, Will snuffled closer toward the source, expecting soft fur and cold noses. His rousing brain tried to make sense of how or why his dogs were now hairless and smelling spicily like an Alpha. No, not just any Alpha. The scent was very distinctive, recognizable even though he was only just acquainted with it. His brain finally waking up enough to helpfully supply a name to him, Will found that Hannibal’s musk held a certain spice to it. His odor was concentrated more so but not unpleasantly after a night of sleeping beside someone who’s body heat ran naturally high. Will opened his eyes to find his visions filled with the crook of Hannibal’s neck, Will’s nose pressed up to the pulse point of it and becoming very familiar, breathing in cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg, the musk of sleep bringing out tones of vanilla and cedar in it.

If that wasn’t bad enough, Will could feel that he had given up on the concept of a bed to replace it with Hannibal, the Omega scrawled out over across the Alpha’s body, their legs entangled with one another so thickly he didn‘t know where he ended and Hannibal began. The Alpha’s arms were still around him, but being held loosely at his waist, one hand resting on the small of his back. The other, Will noticed with some discomfiture, was cupping his ass rather firmly, tips of fingers brushing light and ticklish between smooth mounds. Neither of them seemed to have morning wood though, so thank whoever was listening for small favors and all that. Which started Will on an entirely different line of thinking.

Shit.

That was going to change the longer he lay there on top of Hannibal, his nose pressed up to a wealth of scents that were playing merry hell with his senses and he was now fully aware to enjoy them. Will could feel his body already welcoming the idea in a confusing array of responses as some parts harden while other softened but all grew flush and wet. His Heat was going to be a hot mess, Will was already placing mental bets with himself. He hadn’t experienced one in almost two decades, only faintly remembering his first and only in his late teens. Up to that point, he and everyone else presumed that he was a beta until one fateful night Will woke up from a dream of fire and ice, his body on fire, and his sheets and lower half slink soup.

Fortune seemed to favor the bold that day. Hiding himself during his Heat turned out to be depressing easy, Will being a social outcast with his peers and even the other social outcasts at school. His teachers’ attention was begged off by excuses of flu, not that any of them wanted the weird kid back in their class anytime soon. His dad was never home either and when he was, the old fisherman was too drunk to find his own bed, much less become aware that his only child was experiencing his first Heat. So no one had noticed Will’s absence or questioned it. After his Heat, Will placed himself on heat suppressants, acquiring his first batch by raiding the nurse‘s office at school until he found himself a reliable dealer or so he believed.

One bad batch and here he was, trying to decided how to climb off a slumbering Alpha without waking him, the one who had bought him for a ridiculous price and claimed that they were mates. Everything Will had worked so hard to avoid, all acquired in one humiliating evening. The mask had almost been a blessing in disguise, the Auction‘s last resort to his constant insubordination and mouthing off. The product’s face was meant to be shown and the guards had been very careful not to mark his face during their beat downs after his many failed escape attempts. Will hadn’t had to look out on the ocean of faces appraising his worth, watch them discuss the market price of his flesh. He hadn’t had to see Chilton, metaphorically rubbing his plotting palms together, while in a state of wounded undress and vulnerable.

Though blinded by heavy leather that was soaked through with his sweat, Will could still hear everything going on around him just fine. Had heard what was being said about him, how the brothels would use him and for how long before he was discarded by them, what was expected of him if someone did happen to buy him. That had all been echoing and circling in Will’s mind as he had been led out onto the stage, practically carried since his legs were hobbled at the ankles and his wrists bound together. He had been distracted by the pain and humiliation of it by wisps of baking spices that seemed to hang on the air, calling to him. Just the fact it had been there had somehow calmed Will, made him grow still and waiting as flesh was sold off all around him to the highest bidders.

There had been such certainty that no one would purchase him for any other reason outside of pleasure or entertainment. Will had not only heard but felt the stunned reaction of all around them when Hannibal made his bid, had taken the stage to basically threaten everyone there into giving him Will without further delay. While Hannibal held their audience in a near thrall with his power, his presence had informed Will of who he had been scenting all night. This man, this Alpha, was the source of the alluring spice that had stirred Will up, tracking it with his nose and perception. This Hannibal was pure, the apex of his gender. Just like Will. Something special. Unique.

Could a scent define a relationship or even begin one? Will had never been a believer in it, though the idea had been the canon fodder for every sort of media since time was time. There was some basis for it biologically speaking, an Alpha being able to tell how fertile an Omega was and an Omega how virile an Alpha was in return. It also sorted out some issues of compatibility and worth of bonding.

And there was another frightening pack of thoughts. What would happen to him, his sense of self, once they were bonded? With his empathic disorder, would he lose himself entirely to who and what Hannibal was? Will worried that he would fade away if a bond was introduced. An identity that society would have denied him, the one he had spent a lifetime building in spite of everything, to just end up becoming whatever an Alpha wanted him to be. That was more frightening than any horror that lingered in his skull. More frightening than death really, now that Will thought about it. It was horrible thing to lose sight of who you were, of not knowing your place in your own existence, like being suspended in a living death really.

Not that he would be given an option. They would be bonded. Will could sense that much, knew that much to be true. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’ but of ‘when’. Hannibal believed that they were mates, even seemed to treat them as such, but his patience would eventually run out with Will. Nothing was endless and the Alpha struck Will as the type who was used to getting what he wanted, whether by his own hands, serendipity, or fate.

The idea was enough to give pause and to take into some consideration though as Will lay somewhere in-between warmth that was making his body feel like jellied sponge, the sensation in direct conflict with the pitted battlefield that was his head. He never felt so safe, so protected before, and all that from just listening to Hannibal’s even breathing and the scent that was all over Will’s skin and in his nose now. Will knew nothing about the Alpha that had claimed him as his mate and that should be scaring the shit out of him, but against all reasoning, he was experiencing a sense of euphoria and dependence from this. Even worse, Will found he wanted more.

Turning his head slightly, Will brushed his lips against the soft skin of Hannibal’s neck. Lips parting, his tongue darted out to tentatively taste the Alpha at the heart of his scent. Though he knew it was wishful thinking on his part, Will had been expecting sweet. The tip of his tongue picked up salt and the tang of night sweat though, laden with natural chemicals that made Will’s mind pop and sizzle. His tongue tingled from contact, his head becoming fuzzy as he savored a heat that coursed down his throat into his belly. He suddenly felt too full, too something more that made his joints loose and weak. The center of what he was began shifting, lower parts of him unfurling for what seemed to be the first time, his body more willing to accept the inevitable than he was. Will could feel it and it scared him, making the Omega turn his head away, his action marked with shame and more than a little self disgust. By taking advantage like this, he was doing exactly what he didn’t want Hannibal to do.

As far as Will could tell, Hannibal seemed to still be asleep though he didn’t know for sure. His point of view was limited to the curvature of Hannibal’s fragrant neck and some wayward locks of his silvery ashen hair, kept longer than Will would have expected. Attempting to extricate himself stealthily, Will raised himself up, wincing when his knees knocked into Hannibal’s legs. He risked a glance to find the alpha’s strange maroon eyes upon him, staring him down with an unfathomable look, the Alpha’s body going tense as steel wire underneath him.

Movement woke him up instantly, an unfamiliar weight upon him, making inborn instinct ready to react to the possible threat, Hannibal’s finely tuned body preparing itself to deliver a killing blow. Yet control was another deep facet of Hannibal, his impeccable memory informing him of who it was above him attempting to crawl off of his body stealthily and failing at it. Opening his sanguine eyes, the Alpha’s nostrils flared, breathing in the scent of his reluctant mate which was now spiked with fear. Will’s blue eyes were wide though still glossy with sleep so the omega must have just woken up, his dark curls a soft messy halo.

“I’m sorry….” Will muttered quickly, ducking his head to break eye contact as he scooted off of Hannibal like the Alpha was on fire and into the furthest corner of mattress. “….I didn’t mean to….”

His body language was defensive and the Omega held himself like he was expecting a blow, his arms ready to shield his head and face if need be. Waking that close to Hannibal, of course the sensitive empath was able to pick up warnings on his true nature. Keeping his face carefully neutral, Hannibal cursed vividly and viciously in every language he knew within the safe inner confines of his head, his mind palace’s halls ringing from verbal onslaught. The damage had been done though so best to move forward and fix whatever damage he could.

“It is I who should apologize. It has been a long while since I have shared a bed with another. I would dare say that I am more unused to it than you are.” Hannibal said softly, careful in his movements by telegraphing them openly, and keeping to his side of the bed to allow the nervous Omega space. Will was so close to the edge he was liable to fall off if he got too scared. Embarrassment served on top of fear would not aid Hannibal’s agenda. “Did you sleep well?”

“I doubt that.” Will muttered, ignoring the polite inquiry to comment on the first part. Fear made the omega rude, Hannibal reminding himself, that it was a defense mechanism on Will’s part, produced out of fear and not a place of hate or anger.

“Why?” Hannibal willing to tolerate the behavior for the moment but he certainly was not going to encourage it.

Will’s eyes flitted about the room before settling on the mounds of crumpled sheets on the bed between them, the deep blue stained with salt. The omega grimaced at the ruined material, knowing he was the source for the white rings in the soft high thread count silk. “Because you’re an Alpha.” Will finally answered, the words mumbled, mollified a touch from discomfiture.

“That doesn’t mean I am promiscuous any more than it means you’ll let yourself be taken over any flat surface since you are an Omega.” Hannibal pointed out, keeping his tone light and letting a slight smile take some of the sting out of his words. His efforts were noticed, Will glancing at him sideways.

“Touché.” Will snorted, a corner of his mouth turning up despite himself.

“Now, how did you sleep? Any bad dreams?” Hannibal asked again, wanting to smooth out the last few frayed edges of this morning.

“No. No dreams. At least none that I could remember anyway. I slept…..well.” Will answered hesitantly, starting to fidget with the hem of his borrowed night shirt. It was obvious he wasn‘t used to being asked such things. “Really well.” he finished, licking his lips nervously. Will was unsure of what he should be doing at this very moment or how to escape this conversation. Any ordinary day he would have already taken the dogs out, drank more coffee than anyone really should first thing in the morning for breakfast, and be driving into work to talk at a classroom full of FBI trainees whose questions would never be answered because socialization was for other people. Now, Will had no idea what to do with himself, what Hannibal expected of him.

Despite being a true sadist, Hannibal decided to be merciful. “Well, since we are both awake, I will go make breakfast. How do you feel about eggs?” Hannibal rose, stretching his limbs thoroughly before putting on a robe. He would get dressed later when Will was more at ease and had some caffeine in his system.

“Spiritually, emotionally, or physically?” Will sniped, more worried about he was going to wear. He didn’t have any clothing here besides the damn scrap of material that the Auction had forced upon him. It was either that or go out on stage naked, so Will had submitted to the indignity of it. Hannibal’s pajamas(could he even call them that?) were like sleeping in sin woven out of silk, but he couldn’t go out in public like this. If he was allowed to. Will knew Hannibal was letting him to return to work but they had yet to set any ground rules about his movements.

And then there was the damn issue of the collar to contend with. Sighing, Will scrubbed his face with his hands, the stubble there rasping against his palms. Now that the heat suppressants were fully out of Will’s system, his scent was tell the world and alert any Alpha near him that he was an Omega. Will doubted that he would be allowed his bottle of Old Spice for a camouflaging olfactory deterrent. He had stumbled upon its helpful masking qualities after receiving it for Christmas, discovering that when combined with the use of heat suppressants, it rendered him a beta or even a low grade alpha to other people’s noses.

Collars were an Alpha’s way of saying of telling others that their Omega was claimed even if his or hers scent communicated that they were unmated. It was more merciful than branding, the method of marking one’s mate in the past, and collars lasted longer than biting, some Alpha’s preferred manner of staking a claim. Will told himself that he should be feeling grateful that Hannibal preferred collars to tattooing. He had seen more than a few of his gender’s corpses inked with a possessive Alpha’s claim to them.

“I was considering a protein scramble.” broke Will out of his somber thinking, Hannibal obviously ignoring his snark. “I apologize but I should have asked you last night if you were allergic to anything.”

Loathed as he was to admit it, Will reminded himself not to be an ass to Hannibal. The Alpha was his best ally in this, even if he was the one controlling all the outcomes. Staying on his good side might prove to be wise. Too bad getting along with other people had never been Will’s strong suit, the Omega having spent his existence avoiding or becoming other people his entire life. Hearing a throat clear politely, Will realized that the Alpha was still waiting for an answer from him.

“Sorry…” Will shook himself, trying to appear like he was still waking up and had a viable excuse for being lapse in his response. “Yes, that’s fine, and no. At least, I don’t think I am. It would be safe to assume that you eat a wider variety of food than I do.”

“I will keep that in mind. I think some coffee would be a good start for right now.” Hannibal said as he pulled on a robe and toed his feet into house slippers.

Will was not above begging for caffeine. He knew how important that vice was to his existence. His body might be well rested for once but his addiction was not, nerves already twitching and a headache beginning to bloom behind his eyes from withdrawal. “Please.”
oOo
TBC

Chapter Text

oOo
Scenting the air as it was disturbed, Hannibal could smell the mixture of musky arousal seeped with the sourer notes of disgust still clinging to the linens as he stripped the bed. He could also pick up the faint smell of dried salvia on his neck. It wasn’t hard for him to put two and two together to get a number he wished he had been awake for. Apparently, Will was more impulsive and true to his nature when no one was looking. The Alpha decided not to mention either olfactory observations as he replaced the dark cobalt silk with a jewel toned gold satin, his Omega wincing at the selection.

Hannibal was a man who loved his saturated color. In Will’s humble opinion, the sheets were ugly as sin, gaudy even in a lavish way. He had no idea how he was going to not slip out of bed tonight, silk nightwear on satin the hellish slip and slide of materials. His elbows failing to pin down the slick clothe proved this point, Will helping out with the corners without being asked. He kept his judgments to himself, though he discerned from carefully made side glances that the edges of Hannibal‘s lips were slightly turned up, letting Will know that they weren‘t unnoticed.

Following closely behind Hannibal as they left the bedroom, Will started to make efforts toward mapping out his surroundings since it looked like he would be living here from now on, strange thought as it might be to him. Will still didn’t trust himself being able to find his way back to the bedroom or kitchen yet, so for now Hannibal was his lifeline and guide. This house didn’t strike Will as one he wanted to get lost in for long, though he couldn’t explain why or give any viable reason for such a feeling. So it was almost surreal being led to what was obviously a laundry room, commonplace in most houses but one of the biggest Will had ever seen. It appeared to be the home version of a professional dry cleaner, Will recognizing only half the cleaning equipment in it. There were at least three washers of varying sizes with matching accompanying dryers, the largest the machines looking big enough to accommodate couch cushions and heavy down comforters. The complex suit press and hanging steam cleaner with array of attachments neatly hanging beside it were what surprised Will the most.

“You do your own laundry.” Will said, more statement than question though it still sounded somewhat perplexed.

“I do.” Hannibal answered, looking amused as he loaded the smallest washer, going through the usual motions. “Most of it, but not all the time. If my schedule is too hectic, I do seek out the services of a reputable shop just like anyone else. For some reason, I have surprised you. Why?”

“I assumed that you would have a maid.” Will shrugged, like it was the most obvious answer. “Or a few. A butler or something…”

“I have a cleaning service that comes by on Mondays and Fridays for the basic upkeep of the house, and a landscaping company contracted for the lawn and garden. I am sorry to disappoint you, but I do not employ a full time staff. That being said, I still do not understand the source of your amusement.” Hannibal tilting his head in observation, interested in his Omega‘s musings. “Do you think all people who have wealth keep others around at their beck and call to never lift a finger for themselves?”

“Clearly my own personal misperceptions.” Will mumbled out, avoiding eye contact with Hannibal. They hadn’t even been up an hour yet together and he was already making himself look like an ignorant ass, so Will made it a point of looking at the contents of the laundry room instead. How often would someone really need to use an industrial strength steam cleaner? Will’s mind turned random thoughts and observations about like he was churning butter made out of figments, having them run into and over one another. The empath thought about of how hospitals used the same equipment to ensure sterility, destroying sickness and other people’s tainted DNA from bed linens while at the same time humming song lyrics along with the rhythm of Hannibal‘s washer. “Emptiness is loneliness, and loneliness is cleanliness. And cleanliness is godliness. And God is empty just like me.” played in the back of Will’s head. “Intoxicated with madness…..” Will muttered aloud to himself, wondering about the paths and the white rabbits his imagination followed sometimes.

Hannibal waited for an explanation for the strange segway in conversation, letting it go when it become apparent he was going to get none. “Where did you grow up, Will?” Hannibal asked, not bothering to check if Will followed him or not as he made his way to the kitchen now that one task was done. He bit back a smile, hearing the Omega shuffling closely behind him. Will paused every once in while to take note of something in the rooms they passed through to hurry after him back to his side. It was a gratifying background sound to his own barely there footsteps.

“On the road. I followed my father from the boat yards of Greenville to the lake boats of Eerie.” Will surprisingly answered. Hannibal reasoned he was still feeling contrite about his earlier assumptions, a behavioral quirk worth noting for later leverage in conversation. “I was never in one place for too long.”

“Always the new boy.” Hannibal observed, starting the elaborate process of making the perfect cup of coffee. “Always the stranger.”

“Always.” Will went back to his official unofficial place in the middle of everything, leaning against the counter to watch the Alpha work with a gleaming machine of glass and metal that looked way too complex to deal with first thing in the morning. Will just hoped that it produced some sort of beverage that had caffeine in it. “Is this the part where you ask about my mother?”

“Perhaps.” Hannibal mused, turning his full attention back to Will as the coffee brewed.

“That’s some lazy psychology, Doctor Lecter. Low hanging fruit.” Will grimaced, more at himself than the Alpha. He was the one who brought it up after all. He really was shit at polite conversation, especially first thing in the morning with the scent of coffee starting to permeate the air to torture him. Will hoped there would be some damn coffee soon or at least food to shove in his mouth to keep him from talking.

“I suspect that fruit is very difficult to reach actually.” Hannibal mused, getting out cups and plates.

“So is my mother. Never knew her.” Will spoke like it was an old hurt, the wound healed over to heavily scar but still there. “Tell me about your mother. Let’s start there.”

“Both my parents died when I was very young, the proverbial orphan until I was adopted by my uncle Robert when I was sixteen.” Hannibal intentionally told Will personal information to watch his reaction with interest behind his mask of neutrality. He was not disappointed, Will’s emotions a beautiful thing to witness as they ran across his face unchecked.

“I guess we were both lonely children then.” Will offered in way of apology. Hannibal didn’t bother to correct him. Now, if ever, was not the time to broach the subject of his beloved Mischa.

“Yes, but I have learned the value of it.” Hannibal said instead, pulling out eggs and some wonderful sausage he had recently made from a deserving sounder of pigs from the refrigerator along with onions, green peppers, and cherry tomatoes. After some consideration, he retrieved some cheese as well, Hannibal’s intention to create something simple for this meal so that Will could recognize it and fully appreciate the fare made for him. Hannibal looked forward to educating the Omega in haute cuisine and the finer things in life. Feeding his mate also appealed to his more base nature as an Alpha, Hannibal startled at the amount of enjoyment that he got from it. It made him want to experience it more.

“Loneliness?” Will sounded miffed, enough so that it made Hannibal look over at him.

“Solitude. As you have.” Hannibal explained, making the Omega snort in bemusement. He sliced up the sausage, putting the shredded meat into a well oiled pan, seasoned with a pat of shallot infused butter.

Will shook his head, running his hands through his already messy bed head. “I fear I land more on the unhappy end of the spectrum. You seem….comfortable with your privacy. Try as I might, I am still vulnerable to some aspects of my biology, my gender, having a need for company even if the concept is foreign to me.”

“Is that not what your adopted family is for?” Hannibal mused, pausing to consider the Omega who looked warily back at him.

“My family of strays? The one that I have piecemealed together with animals to replace what I can’t have with people? I already know what that says about me.” Will huffed. “I’m disappointed. You can do better than that.”

“How do you take your coffee, Will?” Hannibal knew Will was being difficult just for the sake of it, so he parried with a question instead as he turned back to the vacuum coffee maker. He was well versed with its process, the Alpha not even needing a timer for it.

“Dark as night and sweet as sin.” Will’s accent was a little bit more noticeable, the Southern twang of it seasoning his words as he leaned in to watch Hannibal add just the right amount of sugar without being told to coffee that was darkly clear. Will hummed in approval, accepting his cup with eager open palms, and not caring if he burned the roof of his mouth. Hannibal’s version of coffee was unlike anything Will normally resulted in drinking, the steaming cup unusually light in texture but robust in flavor, and sweet enough to make Will sigh in contentment. He didn’t even care that he was being watched, Hannibal’s amusement letting itself be apparent for once. Will ignored the Alpha, savoring his drink while he clung to the cup and counter like they were his rock and mooring. Even having slept for once, Will wasn’t much of a morning person or more accurately, a person of waking. When one had constant insomnia, timing of day was meaningless.

Hannibal busied himself with completing their breakfast, shredding sharp Vermont cheddar cheese to whisk it into farm fresh eggs, adding diced onion and green peppers to it at the last minute as to not overpower the mixture. The egg mixture was folded into the hot pan full of slivered bits of cooked sausage that popped and sang at contact. The tomatoes were added last when the scramble was almost done to keep their contents intact and sharp, the burst of the cherry tomatoes in the mouth meant to cleanse the palette between bites. Hannibal prepared another cup of coffee for Will before presenting him with his plate. He was pleased to see the Omega begin to eat with no hesitation this time on his part, consuming the protein scramble with clear intent and desire in between gulps of coffee. Will’s manners would have to be addressed at some point, but his enthusiasm was intoxicating.

“This sausage is very good.” Will hummed delight into his mouthful, deliciousness making sweet happy love to his taste buds. The eggs were the perfect amount of fluffy and cheesy with just the right earthen kick from the vegetables to balance the saltiness and spice of the sausage. The hint of shallots made the dish just savory enough without having to add anything else to enhance the dish. Will even found himself liking the tomatoes, though he had never particularly cared for them.

“Thank you. I made the sausage myself.” Hannibal said, not bothering to hide how pleased he felt. He wasn’t above preening for his mate.

“Pork?” Will wagered a guess. It was very good but something was off about the meat, a spice or flavor there that he just couldn’t seem to place.

Hannibal smiled. “Pork. Made from pigs, of course.”
oOo
“I’ll find you something to wear.” sounded more damning than it really should have.

They were back in Hannibal’s bedroom with Will sitting on the edge of the bed, trying not to ruin the sleeve of his borrowed nightwear by wringing the sleeve’s fabric. Hannibal was somewhere in the deep depths of his walk-in closet that was more like another room than a regularly sized space for hanging clothes. Will had glanced in after the Alpha before retreating back to the safety of the bed. It had been wall to wall plaid in there, in shades and patterns Will had never even conceived before for a suit. Set up like a professional artist’s studio, it was a complex organized space whose medium was cotton, leather, tweed, silk, and so much more, all the pieces coordinating with each other on some level Will didn’t even want to think about. Will hoped Hannibal could navigate his way back out or refrained from breaking a leg while in there because he sure as hell wasn’t going back in.

Hannibal emerged soon enough unsurprisingly with a suit in hand though shockingly not in plaid, and a pair of leather shoes that looked so Italian they might as well be paddling a gondola. The deep blue outfit paired with a white Oxford shirt appeared to be missing its tie, and Will just knew there was a tie, if not several, that would coordinate perfectly with it. Will wondered if he ever wore anything simple, like jeans. He doubted it. Hannibal probably considered them vulgar. “Do you own anything casual?” Will asked, despite his early promises to self about being good.

“Of course.” Hannibal gave Will a strange look, his own ‘casual’ outfit dark pressed slacks, a maroon pullover that matched the Alpha‘s eyes, white dress shirt, and patterned tie, the Alpha disappearing into the bathroom to change. Running water and the clicking of metal being set down on stone told Will that Hannibal was going to be a while, shaving and doing whatever else he did first thing in the morning.

“I think your definition of casual and my definition of casual are vastly different things.” Will muttered, studying the suit given to him that was probably worth more than his entire wardrobe at home and putting it on while he had the privacy to do so. To his chagrin, the borrowed outfit fit better than most of what he normally wore. The Alpha and Omega were basically the same height and size, the main difference in Hannibal’s broader shoulders and longer limbs. The suit even brought out the blue of his eyes, making them seem brighter. Either that or it was all the sleep he had gotten. Will found he really didn’t want to think about it. More than likely, he wouldn’t like the answers he came up with.

Defensively, Will reasoned he would still rather dress for comfort than fashion. He told himself that he shouldn’t have been the least surprised that the socks and shoes matched as well, though Will had to double up on the socks to keep the shoes on. He hoped Hannibal didn’t expect him to shave. Without his short beard, Will thought he tended to look babyish and a little too androgynous for his liking, a telltale feature of his gender he preferred to avoid. There was another aspect of being an Omega he would have to consider now, one that he couldn’t put off any longer if he wanted to be able to walk out the front door.

Which is why Hannibal found Will tucked into the far corner of the room, the Omega almost kneeling while contemplating his hands and looking like he was trying not to hyperventilate. “Will?” Hannibal started toward him, acting concerned to be waved off. Will wanted some distance from him with his back protected. It peeked Hannibal’s interest to what subject matter was about to be broached.

“What about….” Will managed out that much before trailing off, swallowing back the rest of his words hard as he made himself take deep breaths.

“Yes, Will?” Hannibal said more as a prompt than an actual question. It still earned him an icy blue glare, one that quickly slid away and down to his throat giving it all away.

“The collar.” Will finally spat out after a couple of false starts. “Are you going to make me wear it?”

“You have options.” Hannibal very carefully refrained from telling Will ‘yes’ or ‘no’. The Omega would have to make up his own decision in the matter and adhere to it. His answer was surprising enough to make Will regard him again though with something other than contempt and distrust.

“Such as?” Will asked, suspicion colored by curiosity evident in his tone.

“I could bite you.” Hannibal offered, something stirring deep within him at the very thought of Will acquiescing to this. He just might like that a little too much and it was still far too early to be introducing Will to certain truths about himself. “It is a bit of a throwback…”

“Anything else?” Will snapped, bringing up his shoulders as he hunched down as if to protect his neck. Biting was a socially acceptable way of an Alpha claiming an Omega, an extremely intimate way of going about it. It seemed almost feral to Will, the act of it, of teeth parting flesh to ruin and render smooth surfaces. Bruises like temporary jewels of onyx, topaz, and sapphire around wicked torn curves of parted skin, fading out to leave behind a filigree of coarse scarring in their wake. It sent a shiver down Will’s spine, though not from disgust he discovered. More like self loathing, Will unwilling to admit certain things about himself to himself even in his own head.

“Some chose tattooing.” It was not as appealing as biting, but Hannibal was willing to work with it if Will was. He was more than capable of designing something beautiful to place upon his Omega’s flesh.

“Pass. I’ve seen too many corpses with them.” Will stated solemnly, who knew all the statistics. A high percentage of Omegas killed by their Alphas often had their claiming marks inking into their skin. Will didn’t want to die looking like that, carrying those kind of scars that anyone could see.

“Then you will have to make peace with the last of your options.” Hannibal sighed, making the noise sound morose like his hands were tied and being forced all at once. “You can take the collar off in private, in the confines of our homes, and in my presence. That is the best I can offer you. I may not hold with the norms of society but I do try to abide by them. I also believe that collars serve a purpose in keeping Omegas safe from unwanted attention.”

“As long as everyone plays by the rules.” Will fumed. He had too often seen the aftermath of such rule breaking. It was usually wet and red around ragged still edges. He watched as Hannibal retrieved the collar, his collar, from where it was still sitting in its little lacquered box. The tooled leather practically gleamed against the velvet it was snugly nestled in, braided black like a wound against soft crimson. The ornate steel lock to it glinted almost evilly in the light.

The box with its contents were simply held out to Will, Hannibal making no other move, making it obvious to whose turn it was next. Will let out an unsteady breath, making himself nod. He jumped despite himself when Hannibal unlocked the clasp, taking the collar out to hand it to the Omega.

“You don’t want to do the honor?” Will tried to joke but it fell flat, sounding more disheartened than jovial.

“You are more than capable. I’ll give you one of the keys when you are done. Make sure not to lose it.” Hannibal said, wanting to feel the coolness of the leather against Will’s too warm skin. He was well schooled in patience, among other things. There would come a time when Will would beg him for the collar, for the Alpha to place its length around his neck. For now, Hannibal could afford to be generous, and all while he enjoyed the show of Will breaking himself down bit by bit.

Nodding once again though this time more for himself, Will placed the soft leather to his neck with shaking hands, clicking the catch in place. The steel ends locked together instantly making Will swallow on reflex. The leather moved with his throat mimicking its surface, like the braided strip was a second skin to him already. It felt better than it should, the Omega losing himself in the constricting sensation as he moved his neck experimentally from side to side to help accommodate the new accessory. Will nearly jumped out of his original skin, feeling fingers upon him.

“Calm yourself, Will. I’m just adjusting the fit is all. It is too tight and I don’t want you to choke.” Hannibal soothed, making his fingers far clumsier than they actually were so that he could linger as he refitted the length. Trembling, Will still bared his teeth at him, his blue eyes wild around the edges and sharp with glare.

“A little warning next time.” Will grumbled when he found that Hannibal wasn’t being rough about it, his touch light along Will’s skin, making it grow too warm beneath it. Telling himself to get over it and to get this over with, Will arched his neck back to give Hannibal better access. Only after performing the action did Will realize he had just bared his throat, his collared throat to an Alpha, his Alpha. It was one of the most intimate and damning acts of submission an Omega could offer up to an Alpha, on par with stripping down and spreading himself open to presented himself on hands and knees.

To his credit, Hannibal only froze momentarily, his eyes widening marginally at the sight. Not knowing how to get himself out of this with any sort of grace or with any dignity left intact, Will remained as he was. He was resistant, not an idiot.

“Best not to bite the hand that feeds you or can free you.” Will thought ruefully, reminding himself that he still didn’t have the key to his own lock. He also thought Hannibal was taking his sweet ass time about it as the Alpha fussed over the collar’s placement. Even when he was done and the collar sat right on Will’s neck, Hannibal’s touch stayed where it was. One hand drifted downward to caress collarbones while the other moved upward to follow the curvature of Will’s jaw, feeling the satin of chocolate curls at the hairline and the warmth collecting at the Omega‘s nape.

“W-what are you doing?” Will asked stammering, feeling like an idiot as he felt Hannibal lean in to press his nose to the back of his ear, hearing the Alpha inhale deeply. “Did you just smell me?”

“Difficult not to.” was rumbled low to the shell of his ear, the Omega feeling the silken flesh of lips moving upon the sensitive skin there. This close, Hannibal’s voice was thick with something beyond his own accent, darker things moving through his rough voice. Will could keep his body still, had the fortitude for it, but he couldn’t stop his rest of him from reacting in other ways.

It was like resisting food. One may not eat by choice and force of will, but the body still starved, still ached for sustenance and reacted to food’s presence with watering mouth and tight stomach. Will knew if he could smell his own slick, then Hannibal sure as hell could. The wetness gathering at his base was just further proof that any trace of the heat suppressants was out of his system.

“May I kiss you?” woke Will out of his growingly dazed observations. Will didn’t know if he should be impressed by Hannibal’s control or worried about his obsessive grip on courtesy.

“Why?” Will asked, at a loss. He really had no idea what to do so he kept his eyes shut. It should have helped him focus, but only ended up bringing everything else into stark clarity, at least in the fact he needed. His body was a mess of signals, confusion running neck and neck with a force that was turning his insides into something too warm and undefined for Will to understand at the moment. The scents of vanilla soaked cinnamon and nutmeg hung heavily around him, a sharp musk underneath all that spice, like a knife in silk casing. It was making it hard for Will to breathe, to rationally think, especially when his body was growing too heavy for him to handle, and his legs and arms were feeling too thick and disjointed for him to maneuver.

“Oh Will….” and that was like a hymn being sung just for him in his ear by an angel or the Devil himself. Hannibal’s voice was low and melodic, sounding like sin and everything Will never let himself dream about. “…you ridiculous man. If you were anyone else….” Hannibal sighed out words that Will was having trouble following, and even that was wonderful. Hannibal’s hands were still upon him, fingers curling tightly into his hair at the back of his head to hold Will in place as he started to sway and that was fantastic. Will followed though the motion, arching his neck back further in a long clean line. He should have felt exposed and vulnerable, but all he could do to keep control was not let himself moan out loud. Will felt need like never before. Will needed so much, but had no idea how to ask or even if he could ask, if it was allowed. He hoped Hannibal had some idea because he was lost in his own body, drowning in the sensations and chemicals that were flooding his brain and numbing his body.

“Open your eyes, Will.” was said and how could Will not obey such a simple request, the Omega’s eyes snapping open to be pinned by eyes so red they were practically scarlet. He was going to say something, some cutting remark or insult to make Hannibal back off and give him some space to clear his head.

Or beg. Will wasn’t too sure at this point really but he never got the chance to figure it out, all words silenced in the presence of lips meeting one another.

Trying to remember the last time he had been kissed and failing to, Will likened this touch of flesh to being consumed, or at least that was what it felt like it to him. His lips were being bitten, his tongue gripped between teeth that were almost too sharp, and the skin around his mouth reddened by roving lips that wanted to bring his flesh in for further tasting. It was the kind of kiss he expected from an Alpha, and yet it was still all Hannibal. He was being owned, made to submit, but with a touch of blood and pain. Both of which Will not only welcomed but returned as he bit back, catching Hannibal’s lips with his teeth in answer, tasting the Alpha as he was tasted. After all, turnabout was fair play, some part of Will realizing he was holding onto Hannibal with hands hard enough to bruise. He was marking Hannibal with his own set of wounds as he was being claimed.

It felt almost like betrayal when Hannibal pulled back, looking as used as Will felt with bloody kiss swollen lips and wide, almost feral eyes. It made Will wonder how he appeared in return, probably more so.

“We have to stop.” Hannibal breathed heavily out, his eyes like cut rubies in his head. Will stared back at him in disbelief, the Alpha having the applaud to look apologetic. “I have already called Alana to meet us in Wolf Trap. It would be rude to keep her waiting, especially after taking in all your dogs.”

Shaking his head, Will felt too hot, too swollen, too on edge to come up with an answer that made sense. “This was a mistake.” he ended up slurring, drunk off of his own body and coming down too fast from a dizzying high. He found that disappointment was as vivid a sensation as relief was. He didn’t know if he was speaking for himself or Hannibal, his words sounding ugly and wrong even to him. Before he could retreat, Will found was caught once again, Hannibal cupping his face with his strong hands. The Omega was made to look into maroon eyes too bloody in nature to be real.

“Not a mistake. Never that. Merely mistimed on both our parts.” Hannibal stated, his tone firm. Something about denial made Will, even for good rational reasons, made Will go a little crazy, or so he told himself as the Omega moved to press himself against the Alpha’s body, Will groaning low as his erection made contact with Hannibal‘s own. The noise broke something in the Alpha because the next thing Will knew Hannibal was his knees, Will’s pants were down around his ankles along with his underwear, and he was bracing himself in a hurry against the corner’s walls as he was lifted up by his ass. Will hooked his legs over Hannibal’s shoulders as he was swallowed down to the root in one smooth motion, Hannibal’s nose pressed into soft tight curls.

Suspended between the flat of the wall and Hannibal’s hold on him, Will could only shout and pant as his erection was swallowed around and sucked upon with unrelenting force and a wicked intent. For a connoisseur, Hannibal was being very greedy, brutally bringing Will to climax to let the salty bitterness linger over his tongue, swallowing it before moving downward. The Omega’s slick was sampled as well, Hannibal cleaning all the gleaming wetness off of too sensitive skin as Will cried out above him, begging nonsensically for him to stop or keep going. The Omega kept changing his mind on the matter, overwhelmed and made loopy from such an abrupt climax. His sodden hole being rimmed by a clever tongue wasn’t making cognitive thought any easier either.

Every omega’s slick was signature to them, unique due to biology and breeding. Hannibal found Will’s flavor to be unnaturally sweet and floral, almost like flower candy made of white blossoms, violets, and the nectar of elderberries. Giving into small needs before they became bigger ones, Hannibal finished up cleaning Will of any trace of it, leaving behind only saliva to dry tight and brittle on his skin.

Turning his head, Hannibal kissed the inside of Will’s inner thigh before clamping down upon it with his teeth. He kept Will in place easily, the Omega’s too busy bracing himself up against the wall to stop him though he yelled out in pain overhead. The blood welling up in Hannibal’s mouth was almost bitter compared to the slick that still coated his tongue, an interesting contrast. A mate was not food though, at least not that sort of meal.

Finding his control again, Hannibal exerted it enough to release Will without biting down further, the resulting bite mark more bruised than bleeding. The blood was wiped away with the tip of his tongue while Will continued to moan soft sounds, shivering at the play between pain and pleasure. The Omega was still limp limbed by the time he was let down and set back on his feet, Hannibal efficiently redressing him. The wound on Will’s inner thigh would be fine, the hormones in his salvia congealing the blood. Biting was a throw back to ancient times but it held a notable reason for existing. Alphas were meant to mark their mates in this manner.

“You bastard.” Will panted, his head still in a whirlwind of what had just happened. “That was more than a kiss.”

Hannibal’s response was to kiss him again, his own diverse flavoring carried in on Alpha’s tongue, the sweetness of slick and the salt of semen with a metallic edge that could only be from blood. This close he could feel Hannibal hard and heavy pressed up against him, though the Alpha sought no relief for it. The kiss ended slow, Hannibal licking at Will’s lips as if chasing after the taste he left there.

“Is this real?” Will whispered, keeping their lips together to ask for things directly from Hannibal‘s mouth. “What is happening to me? What is going to happen to me? Please don’t lie to me.”

“You will be what you have always been. Unique but you will not be alone anymore.” Hannibal promised, saying terrible truths in return. “It is a terrible thing to have your identity taken from you. I have no intention of doing that to you, but I can make you better. If you let me, you will become more.”

“So much more.” he murmured, running his fingers along Will’s collar, the Omega sighing in return.

“Do you want me to return the favor?” Will asked hesitantly, nodding down to the prominent disruption in the cut of cloth. Not the most romantic gesture by far, the Omega wincing at his own offer, at how flat it sounded. It seemed only right that he offered, even if he had no clue how to reciprocate anything well in a relationship.

“No.” Hannibal shook his head much to Will surprise, drawing away to make Will glare at the space between them now. “I was being sincere when said I do not wish to keep Alana waiting. It would be impolite, especially after she has been so accommodating and helpful.“

There must have been something cynical yet wounded in Will’s look, because Hannibal reached over to bridge the gap between them, all while keeping Will at arm’s length. His long fingers stroked at Will’s collar, following the patterns on the braided leather. Will let him but refrained from baring his throat again. “That and I want your passion, your zeal. I have no interest in you pleasuring me out of some sense of obligation or responsibility. I want you to need me like one needs air or water to live. To have you savor all that I can offer and linger over all that I am. To always want more.”

“I can’t promise you any of that.” Will told him in that blunt manner of his, making Hannibal smile a little. Touching moment or not, he could count on Will‘s brutally honest nature. It was almost refreshing to experience, considering the mist of lies he moved through and lived in. “I don’t know how to be that kind of crazy for another person.”

“You will.”
oOo
TBC

Chapter Text

oOo
The drive to Wolf Trap seemed to take forever, Will feeling nervous about seeing his own house for some reason, even though it had been less than a week since he was last there. To him, it almost felt more like a lifetime ago, like he was returning to a past era that belonged to someone else.

Technically it wasn’t his house anymore, but after seeing Hannibal’s own and picking up some of his behavior, Will let himself get comfortable with the thought that the Alpha would keep his word and allow him to retain ownership over his own residence. Hannibal was wealthy enough in his own right to have no monetary need for it and his own personal tastes of décor versus Will’s own ran in completely opposite directions. Will really couldn’t see Hannibal wanting to keep his fishing poles or half repaired boat motors for himself.

As for the true source of his discomfort, Will reasoned out perhaps it was because Alana would be there, or that he might smell differently to his dogs now that he was off the heat suppressants. He would smell more like a damn Omega instead of the Beta he spent his life striving for. He wasn’t sure how either were going to react to him now, or which rejection would hurt more.

At one point, there had been something there between him and Alana, something more than just friendship. A tentative closeness that could have developed if Will were other people. They had kissed once. It had been sweet and soft and nice and everything that Will wasn’t so it had felt wrong in the end, leaving the flavor of guilty in his mouth.

It had been a terrible disappointment to both upon discovering that they hadn’t tasted right to one other on a chemical level either, though such things could be worked around or ignored. If they had given it a shot, Will liked to believe that Alana would have kept his secret, but at the time, Will believed he couldn’t risk exposing himself, his hidden gender to the lovely Beta who claimed she thought too much.

In a way, it was a relief that it was his own body that had betrayed him in the end instead of someone he let himself trust and respect. He could deal with that sort of hurt, was used to his body letting him down. Will allowed himself very few acquaintances. Friends were even rarer, his pack of dogs outnumbering the humans who fit that title.

Pressing his forehead against the glass to feel the cold of it seeping into his hot forehead, Will focused on those contrasting sensations to distract himself from his thoughts. His scent would give him away if he didn’t place safeguards in his thinking. Hannibal would know when he was upset or stressed out, though he wouldn’t be privy to the why behind it(or at least he wouldn‘t if he weren‘t a damn psychiatrist). The advantageous biology of Alpha gave them better senses over the other genders. They were built to hunt and fight while Omegas were expected to run and hide themselves away.

In the old days, there had been the Chase. When an Omega went into their first Heat, they would take to the field or forest or beach, an open invitation being carried on the wind to an Alpha who could scent their swollen sex. The Chase would begin then in haste, an interested Alpha or Alphas sent straight into Rut by the pheromone trail. The Alpha(s) would then track down the Omega in heat who was actively looking for a suitable place of privacy to breed while keeping an eye out for a perspective mate. The harsh rules of the Chase were simple. Find the Omega before he or she went into hiding to ride out their Heat, catch said Omega and mount them, and fight, maim, or kill any other Alpha who got in the way.

Civilization had brought about the idea that the Chase was too brutal, too cruel to continue tradition and thus the Auction had been created. Will thought he would have preferred the Chase with its slim chance of escape over the fresh hell that had been his week, confined to a small windowless room to be chained to a wall listening his neighbors create their brave new faces for the future mates who could afford them.

At least he would have clothing that would fit him, Will could reclaim that much from his house even he weren‘t allowed to live there. Will tended to layer his body in flannel, tweed, jeans, and sweaters like they were armor. It was one of the few Omega tendencies he allowed himself. All Omegas loved to wear soft clothing, were drawn to supply downy textures, the more plush the better. It was a nesting tendency, keeping one’s self warm and safe before, during, and after the birthing process. As much as he would like to, Will couldn’t wander around in a robe and slippers wearing a down comforter as a cloak without someone calling him out on it, so layers upon layers it was. It had also served a dual purpose by keeping his scent profile in closer to his body.

Will was currently wearing a dark blue suit of Hannibal’s with a white Oxford dress shirt san the tie but with the top few buttons left open to better show off his new collar, the one he kept reaching up to touch despite himself. The leather felt almost disturbingly warm, like it was becoming part of him, his missing piece. The Alpha’s scent was all over his now as well, Will knowing that Hannibal would be pleased about that. Scent marking was a definitive trait of Alphas, another way of claiming their mate but far more subtle.

As nice as the suit was, even fitting better than most of his other clothing, Will found he didn’t care for it, much preferring his more flexible choices of worn, warm material. The suit echoed its owner a bit too well, too much starched construction and controlled presentation, Hannibal‘s clothing a façade as much as Will’s own poor choice of disguise. The Alpha was hiding something from the world in plain sight under a polished veneer of sophistication and style. Will wondered what lay beneath all those barriers of knotted silk, pressed cotton, and patterned wool, if Hannibal was trying to keep himself safe or trying to keep others safe from him.

They hadn’t said much of anything to each other after leaving the house, the car’s silence more filled with classical music than conversation. Will found it wasn’t the bad sort of quiet though, the kind with floating razor bits of tension ready to set off the landmine tempers that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. The silence of Hannibal held an almost superb serenity to it, though more secular in nature than pious. It did not hold to what was found among the praying devout in churches or temples. It was more akin to the inattention of slumbering lions, tawny eyes half lidded but still ever on the hunt for slow moving prey. Will thought it shouldn’t have felt as comfortable as it did to him.

Still a while out from their destination, Will made an effort to keep himself still as to not appear more neurotic than he was actually was sitting in a small enclosed space. Will was a fidgeter, knew he was one, was consciously trying to keep his legs from jittering and keep his fingers from tapping out a nervous Morse code of stress. To save himself some embarrassment, Will made himself fall asleep in self defense, his body listening to him for once. He found his napping was aided by Handel’s slower pieces and the dull monotony of Bach. That and his earlier orgasm, the one that Will was trying very hard not to think about as he slipped into a doze. That was yet another thing he didn’t want to dwell on. The feel of Hannibal upon and all around him, the ease with which the Alpha had lifted him up, or the spicy scent of his musk that still clung to Will’s skin despite his best efforts of washing it off. Lulled in by the unfamiliar sensations of comfort and safety, Will slipped completely under into a deep sleep with less struggle than he thought possible.

Glancing over to his right from time to time, Hannibal liked that Will could fall asleep so close to him, the Omega curling up in his sleep. The level of trust it signified meant a lot to Hannibal, another tool for advantageous leverage in his arsenal. The sense of pride that came with this was surprising though. It was a feeling Hannibal had not been expected and the Alpha was not one for surprises. Luckily, the slumbering Omega gave Hannibal time to think on this and so much more. He had a lot of food for thought and new information to sort through, consider, and digest.

Within under 24 hours, Hannibal’s life had considerably changed. For someone who planned out just about every detail of his life on a Machiavellian level, this was an unprecedented turn of events. There were certain aspects of his self that were not conducive to establishing or even maintaining a healthy, lasting relationship with another person, at least while they were still breathing. The minor issues of him being the Chesapeake Ripper or Will being a teacher and a profiler for the FBI might prove too difficult to overcome. It could end badly for the Omega if he were to find out his true self.

The thought of killing Will was becoming more and more difficult for Hannibal to envision though. With the taste of his skin, slick, and spend still lingering in his mouth and the smell of Omega in his clothes, Hannibal found with some surprise that he was reluctant to even consider what should be the most obvious option available to him. Hannibal knew it would be prudent for him to end this now while they were still unmated. If he extinguished the bond before it had time to properly develop, the damage to his psyche would be far more manageable and less damaging.

Killing Will would be such a simple thing, should come as easily as breathing to him. Hannibal could do it right now actually, this being an opportune moment for it with Will curled up asleep beside him as they drove deeper into the woods along lonely roads towards the more remote parts of Virginia. With Will’s widely known unbalanced mental state, no one would be surprised if Hannibal reported him missing. Will’s sudden disappearance would be treated as a runaway Omega, and the Auction would even corroborate his story, confirming to any official that bothered to check that Will had been sold to Hannibal masked and bound because of his previous escape attempts.

If he felt inclined to do so, Hannibal could even stage Will’s death. Male Omegas had a high suicide rate, their gender made even rarer due to the fact most of them didn’t last long after their first Heat. An male Omega ousted this late in his life would be a prime candidate for self harm. Given his vast array of options, Hannibal thought that Will was more the type to swallow a bullet than accept a razor’s kiss to his wrist or the short burning ride of a rope around his neck.

With his unique skill sets, Hannibal could make Will’s death seem like the most natural thing in the world and it would be accepted as truth with no danger at all to Hannibal. He could extinguish this little flame of life and none would be the wiser or even really notice. It would be just another dead male Omega, the used condom of all the genders.

His own thoughts soured Hannibal’s mouth, the Alpha swallowing more out of distaste than necessity. He was so rarely displeased with himself and his inner workings. It came as sort of a shock but not a surprise to find that his plans for Will’s demise were being discarded in the wake of his discomfiture. Killing Will was not becoming as option anymore, Hannibal moistening his lips to still taste the sweetness of Omega’s slick upon them, refreshing the Alpha’s mouth and making it water.

No, Will was his mate and Hannibal needed to explore what that meant to him, found that he wanted to. He needed to see how deep this bond went between them and if soul bonds had the merit they were famed for, the uncharted but much sought after levels of understanding that were supposed to come with it. Understanding at that level came with full disclosure though, and Hannibal’s secrets were a heavy burden to bear. Will was liable to break under them and then Hannibal would be left with no choice. The one that shouldn’t be bothering him at all, but was like painting crude graphiti on the walls of his mind palace even considering it again.

Reaching over, Hannibal let his fingers skim over Will’s body, too light for the Omega to notice or even wake him but enough so that Hannibal could at least feel the heat coming off of him. Even in slumber, Will reacted to him, the Omega sensing the hovering touch and shifting his body closer toward it, trying to meet the fanned fingers that brushed the air over him.

Ordering himself to stop, Hannibal withdrew his hand before either could touch, resolutely gripping the wheel with white knuckles. He felt somewhat betrayed by his body. Hannibal had spent a lifetime honing it to be the perfect weapon, the absolute predator, and yet all his controlled efforts were being undone by an almost complete stranger, someone Hannibal would never consider to be mating material. Antisocial, made discourteous from his own fear and self loathing, and lacking tact, Will hardly fit any criteria for dating, much less Hannibal’s elevated own. Previously accepted standards were falling away like leaves off a tree in the coming presence of winter, the sensation of it was making Hannibal feel a bit bare.

If it were just a matter of flesh, Hannibal reasoned that he could resist temptation, but it went far beyond that. His control was a finely made thing, shaped from a lifetime of experience. It was frustrating to find it unraveling at the edges, all that crafting laid to waste from the undefined force that was Will. The power Will had shown in the kitchen last night, his power as a pure Omega, was awing. Hannibal couldn’t conceive what would happen when(not ‘if’, Hannibal would make sure of that) they went head to head, Heat to Rut, want and need fighting for dominance.

Except in the dark spaces between when he took a life or partook a particularly excellent vintage of wine, Hannibal did not lose himself, his sense of self, his awareness to physical sensations. He had had affairs in the past, some even intimate, but nothing that had held his attention for long. Certainly none that had caught him so unaware, or held him in a daze. Will managed to do this without even really trying. It was almost insulting that Will had no idea what a feat that was, but Hannibal doubted that he would care either.

Oddly enough, that didn’t bother him, even excited Hannibal a little bit. He was used to people regarding him with admiration and astonishment, strove to inspire such feelings in others. To gain either from Will would be a welcomed challenge, one that he hadn‘t experienced in a long while. Compliments from the Omega would have merit and carry considerably weight because they would be so hard won. Hannibal could practically taste Will’s reluctance to regard him in any positive light, already cast as the villain in Will’s mind.

Trust was difficult for him, but Hannibal believed it was even more so for Will. He believed Will had the true potential to understand him but wondered if the Omega was clever enough to scale his walls. Given his stubbornness and boorish nature, odds were that Will would just try to barrel though them instead. Hannibal found he was indecisive of which method he preferred. Either meant Will’s attention and that was what Hannibal was greedy for, though he was loathe to admit it. Greed was a vice and made one careless. Mistakes could not be afforded at this point in the game.

Despite Will’s shortcomings and lack of social graces, there was a keen intelligence and a biting wit that was intriguing to Hannibal. Will had a cleverness about him that Hannibal wanted to see more of. Though many tried, very few could engage Hannibal in verbal sparring. Words to him were living things. They had personality, point of view, agenda. Hannibal had a feeling Will could turn them into pack hunters.

Will was still deep in sleep when Hannibal pulled up to the Omega’s little house out in the middle of Virginia’s nowhere, the two story home like a lonely boat on a sea of fields and forests. Shutting off the engine and exiting the vehicle as quietly as he could as to not disturb Will, Hannibal slipped out of the car and up the rocky uneven driveway. He couldn’t have planned it better if he tried, Hannibal wanting to look at and explore the contents of Will’s house without the Omega’s interference. Trepidation would make Will hostel and defensive, though Hannibal had already made it clear he had no designs on claiming Will’s property for himself.

The keys to both Will’s house and car had come with his papers upon payment of purchase though Hannibal didn’t spare much more than a glance at the paint faded station wagon. He made a mental note to buy Will something spacious that was far less offensive to the eye and less likely to break down on the side of the road.

The keys proved to be unnecessary though, Will’s front door open and the lock obviously picked, scratch marks edged into the metal’s patina. Looking in through the windows revealed no one standing inside, Hannibal peeking in while keeping to shadows as he palmed the scalpel he always carried with him. Swinging the door open just far enough so that he could slip in unheard, Hannibal found himself in a large room which would have been a living room to anyone else. It was made special though because it was obviously the space Will lived in the most, a fact one could tell just by entering through the front door.

A poorly made bed stood off in the corner where a couch should have been, the Omega’s bed from the smell of it. Hannibal could already scent fear and sweat soaked into the scattered about sheets there, the smell of it sweetly sour like spoiled peaches with split fuzzy skins left out too long in the sun. Hannibal found that he still wanted to rub his face in it, roll in that scent like a feline strung out on catnip. Perhaps when the intruder was dealt with and Will was still asleep, he would consider it. It would really depend on how much clean up was involved. Some people just died messy and Hannibal was meticulous about tying up such loose ends.

The tantalizing scent of overly ripe fruit, bourbon, and night terror was tainted by something bitter like Turkish coffee or unsweetened dark chocolate, the unknown Beta here intruding on something more than just property. Hannibal was not amused. This should have been a private intimacy for him, a moment of undisturbed exploration solely meant for him.

Flaring his nostrils to pinpoint the directionality of its source, Hannibal deduced that the Beta must be on the second level, his hearing keen and his olfactory sense even better. Alphas tended to smell like mixtures out of a spice rack ranging from baking to savory and musk. Omegas ran more sweet, carrying scents of flowers and fruit upon their persons, their pheromones meant to be sought out and enjoyed. Betas were the balance between the two, having very little tells in the way of odor, neutral to the two other genders even in scent which usually ran pleasantly bitter or a touch earthen.

Listening for the whereabouts of the trespasser overhead, Hannibal looked around the room with interest. Despite having his household crammed all into one room, Will kept the space in relatively neat order, open, and not the state of complete disarray Hannibal had been expecting. Omegas had the habit of nesting, a sort of controlled chaos of their own making that marked their habitats. It was a gender characteristic, especially with Omegas unmated and left too long on their own. They tended to develop an inclination to hoarding, compensating their feelings of loneliness and abandonment with an excess of material items. From the looks of it, Will had overcome this tendency by cleverly keeping his intimate living space as small as possible and collecting dogs instead of inanimate objects. It wouldn’t surprise Hannibal if the rest of the house was for the pack’s use and not Will‘s own.

By living downstairs instead of on the second level like most would, the centralized location also served a dual purpose. Will would be aware of anyone showing up at his house unannounced, the room reminiscent of a fish tank with all its open large windows and dull walls of faded blue paint. All the furniture was mismatched, from the looks of it picked more for comfort than visually pleasing compatibility. The few decorations and pieces of art in the room were the type that came from living a life rather than any real intention in regard toward interior design. Books were neatly grouped but not in any particular order, though Hannibal appreciated the amount in the room. It was nowhere the size of his own libraries but it was obvious that Will liked to read. The care of his books told Hannibal that they were appreciated and respected as well, lacking any dust or gnaw marks from canines along their spines. The stone fireplace portrayed the majority of the artwork in the room, a couple of painting, both landscapes which came as no surprise to Hannibal considering there were no photographs gracing any surface space or wall. The rest of the mixed media in the room depicted canines in some form or another.

Mixed in among the furniture was pieces of machinery and what looked to be a broken boat motor, an open tool box beside the on-going project. Nearby on a small table, a rotary phone was flanked by conch shells and an ugly squatty lamp, a little toy dog and red flask on a nearby windowsill. It made Hannibal wonder what kind of sentimental value all those mixed items held to the Omega. A sole out-of-place dresser off to the side contained mostly white t-shirts, pairs of socks, and grey boxer briefs, all neatly arranged and organized, just like everything else in the house. What should have been a coat closet probably served as Will’s primary place for clothing, an assortment of coats and what looked like thigh high waders hanging from hooks on the wall..

A peek into the connecting kitchen confirmed that it looked mostly unused but tidily arranged like the rest of the house, containing the bare necessities in the form of a coffee maker and a landline phone, everything else put carefully away to use almost never. The wallpaper had obviously come with the place, probably picked out by the farmhouse’s former occupants. The little blue flower pattern was far too pretty and floral for someone trying to avoid being perceived as an Omega, a predominately feminine heavy gender. It wouldn’t surprise Hannibal to find out that some of the décor pieces in the living room had been the former owners as well. Will’s sense of self was so well contained he didn’t feel a need to paint his surroundings with his own identity, most of everything in his house functional or serving a purpose.

The one workstation was placed under a window for its natural light. It was surrounded by an array of fishing poles, the desk’s surface covered with tools and scraps of material. From the looks of it, Will made his own fly fishing lures, the finished efforts of his hobby on display, brilliant color and soft feathers disguising the killing sharpness that curved in on itself. Will obviously spent a lot of time here as well, bottles of liquor and paint mixed in among books, spools of wire and line, bouquets of feathers in mason jars, scattered tools, and little vials of glue. Will drank cheap whiskey, Hannibal noted, his lip curling slightly at the white label of the large ‘I’m not fucking around tonight and this is cheaper than therapy’ sized bottle.

The majority of the floor space was taken up by cozy looking dog beds that looked more expensive than the furniture, the faded Persian style rug underneath put down more for canine comfort than for décor with even a space heater provided to ensure it. Hannibal noted its position in the room, nearer to the dogs than their owner. The house was old and Hannibal knew from looking at it that it did not have central heating. The question here was whether Will valued his dogs more than himself or if the Omega was punishing himself needlessly by depriving himself of basic human comforts.

The real surprise came from the upright piano found in the corner of the room by the fireplace and opposite the bed, Hannibal drawn to it. Open sheet music told Hannibal that the instrument was used, the lack of dust on the keys and bench suggested that it was practiced often. The complicated notes he read upon the sheet paper hinted at that it could be played well. Hannibal placed his fingers to the keys to tap out a few notes, checking to see if the instrument was in tune and to flush out whoever else was here. He was growing bored with waiting for the intrusive Beta to show themselves.

Upon hearing the piano, a practiced killer would hide deeper within the house and wait for an opportunity, the unique silence that came with it giving them away to any person who knew what to listen for. A novice would rush him, panic of being caught making them reckless. A thief, though Hannibal truly doubted it unless there was sudden market for well used fishing gear and motor parts, would try to escape unnoticed out the back. Anyone else would make their presence know and try to ascertain Hannibal’s own purpose for being here as well.

Unsurprised to hear both that the piano was out of tune(music was a pleasure and Will seemed to be in the habit of denying himself such things) and the scurrying of a bothered stranger, Hannibal waited patiently for the Beta to reveal themselves. When they were done here, he would have to contact someone about continual maintenance for the instrument. He favored grand pianos to vertical, the upright version of the instrument more susceptible to string degradation. Hannibal doubted that Will would appreciate the gift of a proper piano or the rearrangement of his house to provide room for one. He would have to make it a point to make Will aware of the baby grand Bosendorfer he had in the sunroom. Hannibal doubted Will would be willing to play for him or even want an audience, but he could easily stay out of sight and out of mind in an adjacent sitting room, and still hear everything just fine.

Hannibal didn’t have to wait long, a young woman revealing herself soon enough from the upstairs. She was strikingly thin and dressed to accentuate this, giving Hannibal the impression of a razor sharp rapier sheathed in tacky animal print. Long curly red hair, defined doll like facial features, and large blue eyes, the kind of which that noticed too many details for other people’s comfort, regarded Hannibal curiously. He was being quickly evaluated and his presence here determined if it were a threat to her agenda or self.

“Oh my God, you gave me such a fright.” the woman said, faking a nervous smile and theatrically placing a hand over her heart.

“Could you please tell what you are doing here?” Hannibal inquired politely as he hid away the scalpel, its uses unnessecary. He already knew who she was but he was curious to hear what she was planning to tell him, curious to hear what lies she would spin to explain away her intrusion.

“Well hopefully we are both here in the right place for the same reason.” the woman smiled, joking while masterfully still managing to look flustered and embarrassed. “I’m supposed to meeting a realtor at this address. I don‘t suppose you want to sell me this house.”

“I sincerely doubt that seeing that this property is not for sale.” Hannibal pointed out, amused at her performance. If he had been anyone else, it might have sounded plausible. Hannibal already knew what she was planning on saying next, that she had found the door unlocked and if it were the wrong house, assumed she would just have to apologize for the inconvenience. She would probably even put on a dog and pony show of ‘little lost girl‘, asking for other addresses or if he knew about any other houses in the area up for sale.

“My mistake, Mr…..?” the woman fished for some leverage. “I didn’t catch your name or your reason for being here.”

“I gave neither, but as it so happens I am the new owner of this property and have every right to be here, much unlike yourself.” Hannibal said smoothly, turning himself to the side to give her a false out. If she bolted, he could easily stop her. The woman noted all this as well though, recognized the trick for what it was, her eyes narrowing. “Though I am curious to why you would assume this property was up for sale.”

“A male Omega caught so late in life, one who used to work for the FBI as a teacher and profiler is big news. It’s common knowledge that Omegas can’t own property so why wouldn’t it be up for sale? I have an interest in the land, not the house, and wanted to get ahead of the bidding.” The woman lied. She lied well, which was unsurprising considering her profession, but Hannibal was growing bored of the game.

“Are you Freddie Lounds?” Hannibal moved right to checkmate, watching the reporter for Tattlecrime.com gave up the ghost of her deceit.

Faked innocence got stuffed back into its box as Ms. Lounds presented herself as the sort of predator she, a scavenger. An entirely different sort from the one Hannibal was but one well in her right. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Doctor Lecter.” she said smoothly with a tight smile as she straightened her spine and her voice lost its softer qualities. “Your reputation proceeds you of course.”

“This is unethical, even for a tabloid journalist.” Hannibal pointed out.

“I‘m…I am so embarrassed.” Freddie lied, faking sincerity in all the right place. It might of fooled anyone else.

“You still have not answered my question, Ms. Lounds. What are you doing here?” Hannibal asked though he was well aware of the answer.

“A lot of talk about your man, Will Graham. About the way he thinks, the way he becomes other killers.” Freddie avoided answering as she wandered, keeping a respectable distance from Hannibal but still able to study the profiler’s habitat. “It’s an interesting ability. You can’t really blame me for wanting to find out more about him.”

“And what have you found out?” Hannibal asked, moving to stand beside Will’s desk to look at its vast array of contents. It positioned him in front of the door while doing so, a fact he was sure that was not lost on the Beta.

“Enough.” Freddie smiled sly and wicked, her large blue eyes flickering toward the kitchen and the back door there. She was probably debating with herself if it was worth the effort or if she should try and talk her way of this.

“I’m afraid I must ask for your bag.” Hannibal stated calmly to watch micro expressions of panic fan out across the journalist’s face even as she fought to keep her brittle smile in place.

“What?” Freddie decided to try her hand at confused innocence.

“Your bag. Please hand it over.” Hannibal left no room for further argument in his composed yet firm manner. He knew she would be intelligent enough to realize who was the better and bigger predator in the room, his lion to her jackal. “I’d rather not take it from you.”

The journalist handed over her purse, careful to keep it at arm’s length and on finger‘s edge. Hannibal appreciated her caution as he opened it to find what he was looking for, what he knew would be there. “That’s personal.” Freddie tried to explain away under false pretenses the camera Hannibal fished out from the bag‘s depth. “Avid bird watcher.”

“I’m sure.” Hannibal gave her a look in return. “Though I am very interested to know how you found Will’s address. He has worked on some high profile cases. I truly doubt the FBI would just leave it lying around for anyone to find. How did you know?”

“I may have taken a few pictures of the house.” Freddie admitted quickly, too quickly. It was a poor diversion by admitting something of interest to keep from giving up better information.

“You didn’t answer the question. How did you know?” Hannibal pressed, indifferent to the tactic.

“I can’t answer that question.” and from the look of it, the set of her sharp jaw and grim determination in her eyes, she wouldn’t either. A good journalist never gave up their sources and Freddie Lounds, lack of moral compass aside, was one of the best in her field. Hannibal was willing to bet it would be quite an undertaking in patience and certain abilities that were not socially acceptable to make her talk. He had neither the time or the energy to do so.

“Delete all the pictures of Will Graham’s house.” Hannibal told the Beta instead, handing the camera back to her while making a subtle show of keeping her purse well out of reach. “Delete them please.”

Freddie Lounds looked resentful about it, but she had excellent survival instincts Hannibal was pleased to note. It would have been unfortunate to dispatch his favorite reporter. In his opinion, Freddie Lounds wrote some of the best articles about the Chesapeake Ripper. She handed back the camera when she was done, Hannibal checking its data before returning it and the purse back to the Beta.

“You have been terribly rude Ms. Lounds. What is to be done about that?” Hannibal mused. As much as he was a fan of her work, the journalist had to be taught a lesson of some sort. She had intruded upon something precious to him, and ruined a moment that should have been experienced in private and savored. Freddie watched him, her stance wire taunt and her scent nervously sour. “What is your interest in Will Graham?”

Freddie Lounds gave him a reproachful look in return, like he was the one wasting her time. “The man works for the FBI but isn’t FBI. Too unstable to get past the screening process. Such a man who turns out to be an Omega is well worth my attention. Especially when he is catching insane men because he can think like them……because he is insane.”

Hannibal never got to make a decision in the matter though. “What are you doing in my house?” was growled out low and rough, both Alpha and Beta turning to find Will standing behind them, the Omega having gone through the back after he awoke to find himself alone in the car. From the notes of loathing and open contempt, Will knew who the Beta was on sight as well.

“Special Agent Graham, I have never formally introduced myself to you. You’re a hard man to get a hold of. I’m Freddie Lounds.” the journalist painted on a fake smile as she offered the Omega her hand.

“Are you seriously trying to salvage this joke from the mouth of madness?” Will blatantly ignored the social interaction to glower at her.

“You heard us then. Please let me apologize for what I said. It was sloppy and misguided…..and hurtful.” Freddie switched out her mask to one that held a pained expression at the mishap. Hannibal watched the Beta, fascinated to see what else she could do on cue. It would have been applaudable if it weren’t so faked.

“Ms. Lounds. Now is not the time.” Hannibal interrupted, moving away from the door to stand beside Will. It would allow the Beta to leave and he could keep Will from doing something unfortunate to the journalist. The Omega currently had the look of a man who was ready to brutally kill something or someone, tension coming off his skin in near visible waves.

Freddie openly evaluated Hannibal, before determining that hounding Will would be a preferably course of action, the reporter more eager for a story than escape at the moment. “Look, you and I have our own reasons for being here….” She started to say.

“My reason being that this is my house!” Will snapped, his voice raising sharply enough in volume to make it bounce off of dull blue walls.

“Not anymore.” Freddie smiled sweetly as poisoned honey at Will. The Omega paled, a toxic mixture of emotions washing over him suddenly enough to choke out his next words. Will knew she was right, even if he kept having to remind himself of the fact. Promises on Hannibal’s part aside, the truth of the matter was that everything that he was belonged to the Alpha now in the eyes of the law and society. It was a low blow and one hard enough to make Will feel physically ill with grief and the unfairness of it all.

“You assume too much, Ms. Lounds.” Will heard Hannibal say, the Alpha’s voice sounding distant to him for some reason. Ignoring the ringing in his ears and the slight tightness in his chest, Will prayed to whoever was listening that he didn’t pass out in front of the damn reporter as he made himself take in air and swallowed down bile, listening to the Alpha‘s voice like it were a lifeline. “Will’s house is still his own, as is everything else he had in his possession before he was discovered. If he doesn’t want you to be here or even wishes to call the authorities, he is well within his right to do so.”

“Interesting.” Freddie said, her head tilting to the side like a bird. More like a crow ready to pluck out an eyeball, Will thought uncharitably. “Do you think that is wise with the current social perception of Omegas?”

“Because it is a challenge to the norm or because you said I was insane?” Will spat out, finding his mentally footing again now that he had some support, even if it was from Hannibal.

“I can undo that. Perception is important especially when everyone is already looking at you. I can be very helpful in that regard.” Freddie said slowly, trying to sound magnanimous in her offer but failing due to the notes of smug pride in her voice.

“You help me seem more normal while exploiting my situation and I help you with what. Online ad sales?” Will sneered openly in contempt back at her.

“I can undo what I said. I can also make it a lot worse.” Freddie’s face hardening, all softness falling away as silk became steel.

Will returned the sentiment, his stance widening to a more menacing pose as he stared down the journalist, his stormy eyes looking through her. “Ms. Lounds, it’s not very smart to piss off a guy who thinks about killing people for a living.”

It was enough to make Freddie back away, caught off guard upon discovering that there was another predator in the room, one that was well hidden. “Are you going to let him speak to me that way?” She grasped for straws like one drowning, turning to Hannibal for some sort of protection.

“I trust Will to speak for himself.” Hannibal bit back a smile, pleased with this new development. Will was turning out to be far more interesting than anything Hannibal could have hoped for. Will seemed to take his words as permission to keep going, the Omega stalking forward as the Beta fell back, her jackal turning tail to something undefined with bigger and better teeth.

“Please leave, Ms. Lounds, before I am tempted to invite you to stay….” Will murmured, low and soothing like someone trying to calm a wounded animal or trick it into coming closer. Not all hands held out offered comfort. “…at my little house in the middle of nowhere with all the numerous acres of woods between us the closet neighbor or any sort of civilization really. I don’t get good reception all the way out here, hence the landlines so you would find it difficult to let anyone know that you decided to visit here and stay…….if you told anyone at all.”

The implications were not lost on the journalist, her face blanching and her scent turning sour with fear, like ruined salted earth. To her credit, Ms. Lounds turned on her heel and made herself walk out the door, confirming Hannibal’s earlier assessment of her good survival instincts. One should never run from a predator. It marks you as prey.

Both men watched Ms. Lounds leave by the front door to circle around back to where she was parked. Will regretted not keying her car while he had the chance to. The sound of her retreat disrupted the silence momentarily before it all back fell into place, reminding Will that he was alone in his house with the Alpha.

Will backed away from Hannibal awkwardly, unsure of how to act around the Alpha here in his own house. This was once been a place under his control, a domain of peace and reprieve against a world that would condemn him and constantly overwhelm his senses. He had never had guests over either so he wasn‘t sure about the etiquette involved, vaguely wondering if he should offer Hannibal something to drink. Alana hardly counted, the Beta often letting herself into the house easily enough since Will never bothered with locking the doors when he was home and making her own coffee. His nearest neighbor lived miles away, his home was too far out in the middle of nowhere for a drifter to stubble upon, the road to his house and driveway were practically hidden and near impossible to find without directions, and wildlife lacked opposable thumbs so Will never saw a need to really.

It didn’t help that Hannibal just seemed to be watching him, head titled slightly to the side in contemplation like he observing something fascinating. “Please stop that.” Will snapped.

“Stop what?” Hannibal’s confusion a construction. A mask, Will realized as his blue eyes darted and danced across the Alpha’s facial features, picking out little tells here, there, and everywhere. If Will was asked to guess, he would have to say that the Alpha was curious about their surroundings and Will’s reaction to him while in them, nothing more. This was a test. No, Will corrected himself, a game of sorts.

“You know what.” Will stated simply, because it was true. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” He knew why, but wondered what excuse Hannibal would offer him. The Alpha had no interesting in anything he owned. Will was sure of that. He was willing to bet that Hannibal was more interesting in finding out what Will’s things meant to him. Will supposed that was what Freddie Lounds was doing as well, but where it felt like a violation with her, Hannibal’s curiosity felt more like an exploration. He was a man looking for the keys to a kingdom with no doors. Will debated with himself whether or not he should tell Hannibal how futile that was.

Any attempts of misdirection on Hannibal’s part were ended abruptly by the baying of many excited canines as the front door burst open under the force of a pack. Their leashes were barely being held together by Alana, who looked winded as she dropped the ends so that the dogs could swarm Will.

Hannibal was led to total distraction as he watched the Omega light up from within and come to life, smiling down at his dogs with real affection and love. It was stunningly beautiful to behold, Hannibal putting it on par with the vast loveliness of the Sistine Chapel as he memorized every detail of the soft expressions the Omega was emoting. Odds were it would be a long while before such feelings were directed toward him, if ever. Hannibal found himself wanting to see them again and soon.

“I didn’t hear you pull up.” Will said to Alana in-between sweet nothings and shameless baby talk to his dogs.

“Hybrid. Great car for stalking.” Alana told him, keeping her voice neutrally soft though her eyes were hard as she stared down Hannibal. “I haven’t had a chance to run them today.” she suggested, nodding her head toward the dogs and then the door as Will took off their leashes. Clicking his tongue to settle the dogs down instantly to manageable levels, Will gathered his pack around him, leading the dogs outside in a controlled chaos of noise and wagging tails. Alana and Hannibal were left alone in their wake, the silence between them steely and taunt.

“As someone who makes such a big deal about common courtesy, I am a little taken aback slash a lot taken aback that you would buy my friend, the friend I trusted you enough to talk about! The friend I went to save at the Auction! The friend who was counting on me, the one I failed to save because of you! How dare you put me in this position!” Alana lashed out first, her anger making her beautiful with flashing eyes and her movements giving wind to her dark hair as she strode forward to confront Hannibal. Rage made people ugly and very few wore anger well but Alana managed it with unusual grace. Admiring her behind the safety of his mask, Hannibal appreciated beauty in all its many forms.

“I’m sorry.” Hannibal said and even meant it in some regard. He liked Alana and thought the world was a more interesting place with her in it.

“Rude. Hannibal, shockingly rude!” Alana went for the jugular, making Hannibal internally wince. He had been that and he was not one to hide from truth. He just tended to obscure or twist such malleable notions to his advantage.

“You have every right to be angry with me. I overstepped my bounds but it was not without good reason.” Hannibal sighed, raising his hands in mock defense and plea of civility.

“And what good reason could that be?” Alana all but growled out at him, but accepted his white flag for now.

“Not only is he my mate, I believe Will to be my soul mate.” Hannibal explained to watch the anger visibly leave Alana as she reassessed the situation. Hannibal loved that about her, that she could be reasoned with.

“Have you…..?” Alana left the delicate question open ended. It bordered on being a rude personal question, but one well within reason. Most Alpha claimed their Omegas immediately after purchase to commence and solidify a bond between them, even it was forced. It kept others away from the Alpha’s perceived property. Alana left her question unresolved because she knew Hannibal well enough to know that he was not like other Alphas.

“No. I would not force something like this. It is meant to grow naturally.” Hannibal answered as honestly as he could. Force was a crass method to achieving any goal. Manipulation, like mental scarring, lasted longer and was far more preferable in his opinion in entertainment value alone.

“It might take a while. Will doesn’t trust easily.” Alana warned, still having some misgivings but seemed to be warming up to the idea of Will belonging to him.

“He trusts you.” Hannibal said, trying not to feel the little stings of jealousy that were trying to work their way under his skin. “Will speaks fondly of you, likes you because he thinks you don’t play mind games on him.”

“That’s because I don’t. I have always been honest with him, as honest as I would be with a patient.” Alana smiled softly, the edges of the expression sad.

“You’ve been observing him though. I know you well enough, how your mind works. You can’t not resist all temptation. Tell me what you have seen.” Hannibal was eager to hear what she would have to say, Alana a fount of information about the Omega. She could end up being his greatest ally or enemy based on her intentions and feeling toward Will. Hannibal was willing to allow their friendship to continue but only if it were not a threat to the one he was trying to establish with Will. If Alana’s death proved more useful in that regard, Hannibal would endeavor to use her demise to the best of his advantage.

“Normally I wouldn’t even broach this, but what do you think one of Will’s strongest drives is?” Alana asked, looking thoughtful as she turned to look out the window at Will. The Omega was playing with his dogs, looking happy and relaxed for the first time since Hannibal had met him. Will left unguarded was a wild beauty with flushed cheeks, wind swept hair, and bright eyes. Hannibal wanted it all for himself.

“Obviously fear. It is sourced from his imagination, the way he sees the world as a stage and the actors within playing out their parts upon it.” Hannibal said quietly, his sanguine eyes tracking his mate’s movements, loping as he chased after canines but still graceful.

“It’s the price for his gift, his imagination, being able to see into people and read their heart’s true design. It gives him ample reasons not to trust anyone.” Alana told him, confirming what Hannibal had already suspected.

“He trusts you.” He pointed out, turning to regard Alana again.

“I’m his friend and that’s all I ever try to be.” Alana said, her tone a touch stiff with what sounded like disappointment and regret perhaps. “It wasn’t easy or happen overnight though. You’ll have to work for it. Do you have that sort of patience?”

“In abundance.” Hannibal said with confidence. He excelled at waiting for the right moment. “Will can take however long he needs with me. I am not his adversary. He will come to realize that I am not only his friend, but his mate. I have no intention of keeping him a prisoner chained to my bed. This house will remain in his possession and he will be free to return to work as soon as I contact the FBI.”

Alana winced, catching Hannibal’s attention. “Something about that displeases you.” Hannibal wondered what her opposition might be. He was allowing Will to reclaim his former life. It was lot more than what other Alphas would have done in his position.

“Will needs the comfort of his own space and the social interaction of teaching even if he only keeps it one sided.” Alana sighed, not elaborating.

“I am curious about something. You have never spoken of Will Graham before on a professional or personal level. Have you purposely avoided the subject of Will Graham with me and others?” Hannibal asked. He wondered about all the possibilities if he could have met Will before all this. There were no doubts in his mind that he would not have noticed Will’s scent.

“Absolutely.” Alana answered vaguely. Hannibal wished she would stop being difficult.

“Not on my account of being an Alpha I hope, or were you in on his secret?” Hannibal hazarded a guess. It was entirely possible given how protective Alana was of Will, though it might have been entirely subconscious.

“I had my suspicions, but no, it was on the account of the others, such as Jack Crawford. I understand now Will couldn’t afford him getting wind to any suspicion about his gender. I didn’t want any information about Will that I shouldn’t have as your friend. I still don’t.” Alana said, looking pointedly at Hannibal.

“I would be happy to get your perspective now. You never spoke about him. I would have remembered someone so interesting mentioned, even in passing.” Hannibal said.

“Probably because I just wanted everyone to leave him alone. It’s not even about Will……Promise me something?” Alana asked almost wistfully, giving Hannibal an appraising look.

“If it is within my power to do so.” which was Hannibal’s fancy way of saying ‘maybe’. Only fools and soldiers volunteered themselves willingly.

“Promise me that you’ll protect Will. Promise me that you’ll keep him away from Jack when he goes back to work. Jack is obsessed with the Chesapeake Ripper. He was grooming Will to catch him. It’s why he wanted to buy him at the Auction.” Alana said, her eyes soft and sad as she watched Will run after his dogs.

“I can imagine that Jack must be very frustrated at the moment then.” Hannibal fished, seeing what kind of reaction he would get. Alana obviously didn’t care for Jack Crawford or his methods.

“More like livid. I’ve never seen him so angry. He wants nothing more than to find the Chesapeake Ripper.” Alana told him, making Hannibal grin inwardly at that tidbit of information. It was going to be easy to manipulate the man where and when he wanted him.

“Then I sincerely hope he does.” Hannibal said with an absolute genuineness.

“I want him to do it without using Will like he was some magic 8-ball of murder, shaking him up until he shatters.” Alana muttered angrily as she crossed her arms over her chest, like she was hugging the empath currently outside close to protect him.

“I have no intention of letting that happen. If Will chooses to return to the field, I will be there with him.” Hannibal poked to see what recoiled or prodded back.

“I wouldn’t put him out that.” Alana’s tone turning stern.

“That is Will’s decision, not mine or ours. I will support whatever he wishes to do.” Hannibal said with some delight. Alana’s opposition to the empath’s work would hinder her friendship with Will in some regards while giving Hannibal an advantage.

“I hate to say this but this might have been the best outcome for Will. He’s been missing support in his life, someone to guard him and have his back.” Alana sighed, offering up a smile of forgiveness to him. “You’re a good person, Hannibal. Will might actually end up being happy for once in his life. Both of you might.”

Hannibal returned the look, the bridges between them mended for now. As long as Alana didn‘t make herself a hindrance or obstruction in his plans for Will, they would remain so. “I can promise you that I will do my very best for our dear Will. You have my word on that. And Alana….you were right.”

“Often am. Have to be more specific.” Alana gave him a crooked smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement and Hannibal savored his victory. Alana was won over, trusting him again. Her ties to both of them were new leverage that he could use to his advantage later on with Will. Her connections to Jack and her insights on the man could also prove to be valuable.

Hannibal allowed himself to smile back, mimicking something soft in his expression to not give himself away. “Will is very special. I promise that he will be very well cared for.”

oOo
TBC

Chapter Text

Living with Hannibal was easier than Will ever hoped or dared to dream. First and foremost, he found out that the Alpha had a very full social calendar. One that he seemed to have no intention of making Will adhere to, though Hannibal would politely offer Will invitations to places like gala events, performances, and other social functions that sounded like Will would have to wear something restricting and uncomfortable to attend. In return, Will always made it a point to turn him down, first sheerly out of spite and then out of curiosity to see if Hannibal would force him to go. The Alpha never did though, simply asking if Will planned to go back to Wolf Trap or stay in Baltimore during his absence.

All Hannibal ever really asked of Will was to join him for meals when he could and sleep in the same bed if their schedules allowed. Even Will couldn’t think of a good excuse not acquiesce. That and Hannibal was an excellent cook. He had never eaten so well on a regular basis before. Sleeping together was not uncomfortable either. Hannibal was a perfect gentleman, keeping to his side of the bed for the most part. Despite his reservations and low expectations, Will was coming to equate Hannibal’s scent with comfort and sleep. He was also beginning to notice that his nights alone in Wolf Trap with only his dogs for company were not enough anymore for Will now that he had a glimpse at something better, loathe as he was to admit it. He was getting used to the press of warm flesh against his side, one that wasn’t covered in fur or woke him up with a wet nose.

The gifts were another surprise, oddly terrifying and more frequent than Will would have liked, the Omega one who had never received presents out of the blue before if they weren’t for his birthday or Christmas. Even those kinds were few and far between, made more so now that all his immediate family was dead and his friends were rare people. The precious few were usually functional or impersonal like new socks or underwear when he was younger, and things like aftershave now that he was an adult, never frivolous.

It was made almost worse that Hannibal was generous, but not ostentatiously so. Will would find new clothing in his size mixed in among his old wardrobe as an option to wear but not a command to. He would have shredded them, but old habits from growing up cold and too poor to buy anything better stayed his hand in the matter. At first, Will just shoved the new outfits to the back of the closet, ie the room ridiculously called a closet. Quiet persistence on Hannibal’s part made Will consider them though, his hands starting to linger over the super soft fabrics. Warm silks, woven micro fibers, and fine cotton were chosen to appeal to his nature as an Omega. As much as he didn’t want to give into it, Hannibal made the effort to buy such items in Will’s personal style and not his own, well made but simple, unadorned in earthen tones and in shades of blues that Will knew would bring out the color of his eyes perfectly. Try as he might to resent the Alpha for it, Hannibal never brought it up, leaving the decision solely to Will. He did notice the way Hannibal’s eyes lit up though the first time he wore something he had bought him.

Will’s assumption that he would be allowed his old cologne was correct, but the new one that he was provided with was presented in the same manner as the clothing. An expensive looking bottle was placed on his side of the double sinks in the bathroom, his choice to wear it or not with no pressure or opinion from Hannibal. It was sort of maddening in a way, like he was perpetually playing an odd game of cat and mouse with the Alpha.

Even worse, Will found himself returning the gifts, presenting his own version in a fashion. He would bring home fresh fish he didn‘t mean to catch, or wild berries, mushrooms, and greens from fields around his house he didn‘t mean to find, and small game of rabbit and peasants he didn‘t mean to lure and trap. Will was tempted to bring Hannibal squirrel but was a little scared of what he might actually make from small woodland creatures or that he would have a recipe ready for such an event.

Will tried to ignore the warm feeling he got whenever he gave these things to Hannibal, his gifts consumed that evening, Hannibal always adjusting their meal to accommodate. Feeling silly about it, the Omega made it a point to find other things as well. Small curiosities and oddities in nature that Hannibal would keep in a box carved from a single piece of onyx, the container probably worth more than some cars. Little stones with fossils in them, stones with natural holes made in their centers because Will’s dad had told him once that such things were lucky, and glittering pieces of quartz found out in the woods around his house. Dead moths, large brilliant things marked with skulls on their backs and paler versions that looks made of moonlight and jade, were added to the growing collections as well, along with small perfect flowers that retained their fragrances even in death.

oOo

Having another person living in his environment, within his domain, was an unusual and unique experience for Hannibal. Will would not have been his ideal first choice for it, but they were both adjusting well while developing a new routine.

Will was far more careful about his surrounding than Hannibal would have thought. The Omega had the tendency to sit on the edge of furniture like he was half expected Hannibal to tell him to get off. Will also moved through hallways and rooms with his hands held by his sides or behind his back, reminiscent of a small child scolded into the behavior while in a museum. The Omega was obviously not comfortable here, but it was a natural reaction considering the majority of his childhood, if not most of his life up till adulthood, was spent in poverty. He would be more conscious of the wealth around him, respective bordering on fearful because of it. As much as Hannibal enjoyed the proper care and respect given toward his property, he found himself wanting Will to feel comfortable here, in his presence and in his home. He wanted Will to see this house as his home, his real one.

A spare room was cleared without Will’s notice. Hannibal was pretty sure that Will still didn’t know his way around the house or knew about all the rooms within. He still followed behind Hannibal closely to the kitchen and a sitting room Hannibal preferred to use over others simply because it had a fireplace. It was a small thing to have the walls painted a soft blue color, the hue typically found in sun faded swimming pools. It contrasted lovely with the honey colored floorboards, giving the room as open, airy feel while still sticking to something maritime. One wall of the empty space was filled with a workstation similar to what Will had at his house in Wolf Trap, a heavy desk set up under a large window for its natural light with a vast array of tools and material at Will’s disposal. In another corner, Hannibal artfully arranged shelving, its surfaces filled with books that Alpha was sure Will would be interested in based on what he had seen in Wolf Trap. The furniture was older, consisting mostly of overly large chairs covered in buttery soft leather the color of rich fertile earth. The cushions of them were deep enough to capture anyone who sat in them and soft enough to make them stay. They were the ideal furniture for an Omega, who needed to feel on some base level that they were being embraced. It gave them the sense that they were being cared for and protected.

That was important considering Will was very touch shy. Though it went against the nature of his gender, it was natural reaction due his upbringing by a single drunkard for a father, the absence of a mother who had abandoned him at birth, and the knowledge that letting another human being touch him might give away his secret. An Omega’s reaction to touch was immediate and obvious, the gender often compared to cats the way they arched into it, and begged for more.

In denial of his own nature, Will used other methods to cope. He slept under too many covers to simulate an embrace, though they made him sweat profusely. His dogs had been the replacement for human contact as well. The Omega would often hug himself, standing way too still with his arms wrapped tightly around his torso, as if he were trying to trick his own mind that he was being held by another.

It was reasonable to assume that Will would have a skin hunger, one that was only being kept in check by his fear. Now that he had been discovered, Hannibal wondered how much longer it would be until that wall broke down, no longer fortified and guarded by the terror of being discovered. Hannibal made it a point to gradually increase the time he spent touching Will, his fingers lingering well past the safer side of casual. Every time Will flinched under his touch or his scent spiked sour with fear, something in Hannibal’s gut twisted low and uncomfortable, a feeling he was not well acquainted with at all. He didn’t like it.

Some notion that dwelled within Will expecting the Alpha to hurt him. That didn’t sit well with Hannibal. It was an intelligent instinct on the Omega’s part considering who he truly was, and Hannibal could hardly fault him for it, but it bothered him more than it should of. Hannibal didn’t like surprises especially when they involved his own inner workings. ‘Know thyself’ was much more than just a saying to Hannibal. It was a way of life.

Will would find this place soon enough on his own with some help from Hannibal. When it was discovered, the Omega would be clever enough to know that this space was intended for his use, his natural empathy aiding in this realization. He would also be clever enough to make use of this space, know that he had need of it. Will had his pride, but he was humble enough to accept help when it was offered to him in the right manner. He just wasn’t used to other people offering aid, failing to recognize it when it was.

Though Will still didn’t wear any of the clothing he bought for him, Hannibal knew that they were not discarded either, but were under consideration. Hannibal knew it would only be a matter of time before Will gave in. All he had to do was be patient. Patience was something Hannibal was very good at.

The beginning of the end to the standoff between them become more and more apparent when Will started to reciprocate the gift giving in his own fashion. Trips to Wolf Trap began to be shorter and less frequent than before, Will bringing back fresh fish with him, delicate wild produce and fungus, and freshly killed small game, the rabbit‘s and pheasant‘s neck perfectly broken from the triggered wire when they took the lure. It wasn’t Hannibal’s preferred version of meat, but the idea of Will killing for him was magnificent, even if it was just animals. The dishes created from these gifts were made with the utmost care.

It was an impressive feat in and of itself. Most Omegas didn’t have it in them to harm another living creature, the nurturing part of their personalities too great to accomplish such an act of violence. Hannibal found himself wondering what else he could get Will to kill and what kind of effect it would have on him.

Other items would show up as well on his bedside table or his kitchen counter by his favorite set of knives, left there for him to find. Will would never present these sort of gifts to Hannibal in person, probably too afraid of seeing the Alpha’s reaction. The empath was giving unique insight into the entire ritual of gift giving. Disappointment would shine like a beacon to one such as Will, though Hannibal thought delight on his part might be just as wounding, but for different reasons.

So Hannibal made it a point to collect all the oddities Will gave him into an onyx box he purposely kept the lid off of. As respectful as Will was of his property, if Hannibal didn’t do so Will would never know, the Omega not one to go poking around in other’s people things. He probably thought riffling through a stranger’s head was enough of a violation and in light of that, simply felt no need to peek into someone else’s bathroom cabinet.

The little things Will gave him were heavily considered by both men. Will to determine value and worth, and Hannibal trying to decide what motivated Will to choose it for him.

They never talked about any of it, but Hannibal found the silence between them beautiful in its own way, like two dancers in the dark moving in tandem with one another.
oOo
Hannibal had no wish for his mate to be clingy, would hardly tolerate such behavior for long extended periods of time outside of the bedroom. Not that they occurred in the bedroom. Will was just as inaccessible there as he was anywhere else. Most of the time, Hannibal could practically feel the Omega waiting for him to fall asleep. Sometimes Will would join him in slumber, sometimes he wouldn’t. Will hadn’t been lying about his insomnia, the night terrors, or the sleep walking. It was slightly unsettling to sleep beside someone who screamed out in their sleep, and sweated until they drowned the bedding. Will would wake up, mumbling apologies as he stumbled off to the bathroom to towel off. Hannibal came to understand why the dresser had been stocked essentially with only nightwear. Will changed out his clothing frequently on a bad night to keep from becoming sick with chills.

The sleep walking proved to be insightful though, without Will realizing how much he was giving away. Waking brought up the forts, fortified to near impenetrability by a lifetime of hardship and practice. In wandering sleep though, Will’s mind was left unguarded and beautifully vulnerable.

The first time it happened, Will didn’t get too far, muscle memory still not used to the layout of Hannibal’s house. The Omega running into a wall and try to keep going woke Hannibal up well enough to pad over on light feet to Will’s side, the Alpha not bothering with the light. He could see well enough in the dark.

“Where are you going?” Hannibal murmured, gently taking Will by his elbow to guide him back to bed. Will offered up little resistance to the suggestion, though his sense of balance was off. Hannibal’s other hand went to the small of Will’s back to steady him, causing the unexpected to happen. Will leaned into the light touches, turning toward Hannibal to sway there in front of the Alpha with closed eyes and slightly pursed lips like Will was thinking about a kiss before giving up on the idea half way through the action.

When they did open, blue eyes were glassy and unfocused as they stared past Hannibal at something that lay beyond them both in a place only Will could see. “I was following….a stag I think….one with black feathers….” Will muttered out, his words slurred by sleep’s weak hands upon him. It made no sense, but Hannibal hadn’t expected it to. “I need to….it wants me to…..”

“I think you need to get back into bed where it is safe.” Hannibal told him, tugging again. Will seemed determined to chase after the beast that traversed through his mind, beckoning him to trail after it.

“I have to go…” Will sighed out, his movements jerky and uncoordinated at he pushed at Hannibal and out of his hold upon him. The combination of the late hour and his mate rejecting his touch yet again made Hannibal’s nature flair up unbidden, the power he kept so carefully tucked in seeping out. Will reacted to all that was Alpha like he were struck from behind, his unguarded mind jump starting long ignored instincts as Will hit the floor on hands and knees, pressing himself low to the floor. It was a normal Omega’s response in the presence of an angered Alpha. The gender’s first instinct was to placate their mate whether they were the cause of the emotion or not.

Intrigued, Hannibal let more of his self flow out, Will pressing himself lower into the floorboards until his belly hit polished walnut. When he found he couldn’t go any further, Will started to whimper, the noises almost too soft to be heard.

Almost but not enough, the cries like gongs going off in Hannibal’s head. He didn’t like it, the sound of it, the sour scent of fear that was ruining Will’s sweeter odors, or the sight of his mate pressing himself to the floor like a frightened animal. This positions was meant for lesser beings, for prey, not his mate.

If Will were awake and in control of himself, he would be fierce, on guard, and snarling. As much as he wanted Will to submit to him, there was no honor, no point in this. Taking anything from Will now would be evil, the true kind of evil that Hannibal found appalling. He tortured, he maimed, he fed upon his victims, made them less than human, but for all his sins of which there were so many like raindrops in the ocean, he did have a moral code, though many would be hard pressed to recognize it for what it was. What he was doing now was in direct violation of it, Hannibal pulling back in his power so quickly it made his head go light for a moment.

Crouching down beside Will who still kept his positioning on the floor abate now curled up on his side in fetal position trembling, Hannibal began to lightly run his hand up and down Will’s shaking form. “Shhh. It is alright, Will. I am not angry with you. I apologize for my actions. They were made in haste.” Hannibal whispered, using gentle hands to unfurl Will to check on his status. He was met with glassy unfocused eyes, the Omega still in a state of sleep. Odds were in Hannibal’s favor that Will would have no idea of what had occurred in the morning.

A nose pressed hesitantly to Hannibal’s neck broke him out of his thinking to find Will leaning up in his arms, the Omega actively scenting his throat. A clumsy tongue met the skin of it, Will licking at the source of the scent that drove him forward. Inept hand made awkward by sleep tried to find purchase on his night clothing, Will following the line of Hannibal’s jugular and then his jaw line upward with his tongue and lips. The Omega was reacting to his scent and the lingering instinct to please him to ensure self preservation.

Large hands found the sides of Will’s face to cup them gently, pulling the Omega off. Instead of wasting time by arguing with someone incapable of understanding reason or logic, Hannibal scooped Will off of the floor with a practice gesture of one used to dealing with dead weight and human sized burdens. Plopping Will into bed, Hannibal went along with the movement so that he end up on top of the Omega, with one arm trapped between the mattress and Will’s back.

Will’s breath shuddered but not out of fear, his scent giving it all away. With his close proximity and so much of Hannibal laid out over him, it was only natural the Omega’s poor body was reacting to all the stimulation, starved to the point of desperate need. Anticipation stealing his air, Will breathed out heavily through his mouth as his skin grew hot and the smell of star jasmine wafted up to make Hannibal’s nose tingle. He already knew how sweet the Omega’s slick would taste. Before Will could work himself into a fervor, Hannibal made the decision for them both.

“Go back to sleep, Will.” Hannibal intoned, his power seeping in enough to make Will take notice and freeze beneath him. “Sleep, beloved.” Hannibal found himself saying, the endearment coming naturally to him from out of nowhere. It was frightening in a way, leaving Hannibal confused as he took his own advice, following Will into slumber soon enough.

oOo
Their dynamics always seemed to be shifting and changing, not falling into extremes like Will would have thought. This was a balancing act between them, Hannibal countering and changing to accommodate Will, and Will doing the same to match Hannibal.

The Omega didn’t realize to what extent until he came home to find Hannibal already there, but surprisingly the good doctor was not in his kitchen, the room looking very empty without him in it. Instead, he sat beside the fireplace in the study, a tumbler of cut crystal holding two fingers of fine single malt scotch in it. A decanter of scotch sat nearby on a small table. Sweeping his eyes over Hannibal, Will could ascertain that something wasn’t quite right with him. If anything he seemed disheartened, at least for Hannibal. Anyone else would have thought he was merely having a moment of deep thought.

“What’s wrong with you?” Will asked, not one to beat around the bush.

“I am having difficulties with a patient. I am seriously considering giving him a referral.” Hannibal sighed, studying his scotch instead of looking over at Will.

“Does it bother you that you couldn’t fix him.” Will let his words get away from him and immediately regretted it as he watched Hannibal tighten his mask more firmly in places.

“No, it bothers me that I failed him.” Hannibal sighed, suddenly looking tired and very much done as he rose from his seat, taking the decanter of scotch with him to put away.

“You don’t seem the type to easily admit defeat.” Will observed. He felt like he was picking on Hannibal. Usually there was a back and forth between them but not tonight. Hannibal looked drained, leeched gray around the edges.

“If you’ll excuse me, I found that I am exceptionally tired. I believe that I will retire early this evening.” Hannibal politely excused himself. The matter of Franklin irked him, but not deeply. Some creatures simply couldn’t be saved or worthwhile enough to make the effort. One simply had to face facts and move on instead of wasting more time and energy. The universe and human stupidity were infinite things after all.

“I’m sorry it’s not going well with your patient.” Will tried to make some sort of amends. He wasn’t good at comforting others. It was not part of his skill set. Recreate a brutal murder action for action, word for word? No problem. Give someone a shoulder to cry on or offer up some words of encouragement? Nope. He had all the sensitivity of a potato.

Scrubbing his hands over his face to make his scruff rasp, Will sighed into his palms, wondering about what he should do. He had no idea how to comfort a normal person, much less someone like Hannibal. While Will made forts, Hannibal raised walls, great lofty constructions no sane person would dare attempt to scale. Will reasoned it was a good thing that he had embraced insanity, or at least his version of it, a long time ago.

“It is none of your concern. Please don’t worry yourself with my problems.” Hannibal said softly as he retreated from the room with the empty glass in hand, leaving Will to mull over the exchange. Will watched him go, deciding where he could find the mental rope within himself that was long enough to scale such lofty heights.

Resolutions were made as Will found himself making his way to Hannibal’s bedroom. No, Will mentally corrected himself, their bedroom. He was going to have to accept that fact at some point. As often as he slept in Wolf Trap, he spent the majority of his nights here. If he wasn’t, Will wished he were, his lonely bed in the corner losing its appeal. Somewhere along the line, his beloved little house had somehow become a prison to him instead of a place of tranquility and escape. If it weren’t for his dogs, he might consider never returning to it.

Showering off in one of the many other bathrooms because he wanted to give Hannibal some space and not because he was a coward, Will slipped into the bedroom. Clean and dressed for bed, he found Hannibal already in it, curled up on his side. He appeared to be asleep at first, but Will knew the difference. Hannibal was good at pretending but Will was equally as good at noticing minute details. Taking a deep breath, Will slipped in between the sheets, moving across the mattress until he was at Hannibal’s back. He hesitated for a moment, before settling himself against the broad planes of its surface that were tapered long and more muscular than his suits let on. Hannibal tensed, signaling what Will already knew. That he was awake and waiting to see what Will was planning to do now that he had made the first move after the game had been called over and done for the day.

Wondering if touching was allowed in this kind of situation, Will reasoned that he was about to find out. His hands glided over heavy silk night clothing, dyed that ridiculous shade of maroon that only Hannibal seemed able to pull off, to finally settle on the curvature of hipbones and the dip between swells of flesh found there.

It seemed the safest spot for his hands to rest. Anymore over and his hands would be on Hannibal’s belly which was sensitive zone. Most Alphas couldn’t stand to have their stomachs touched, the soft vulnerable place guarded more out of embedded instinct than logic. If his hands strayed downward, that would create a whole different set of problems. Will didn’t think he was ready to grope at Hannibal’s penis or how either of them would react to that sort of mishandling.

When Hannibal didn’t react, Will took that as a good sign or at least one to keep going. Cautiously, he sidled up against Hannibal, pressing himself to the warmth of the Alpha’s skin as he held Hannibal tentatively with light hands and a quick heartbeat.

“As pleasant as this is, I don’t need to be comforted. I am simply tired, not bothered by a heavy conscious.” Hannibal broke the stifling silence between them first.

“So go to sleep.” Will said, sounding more rough than he intended to as he stayed where he was, though he wanted to crawl out of his skin. Will knew if Hannibal didn’t want him there, he would know it, but the Alpha was relaxing under his touch, his breathing evening out.

It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did.

oOo

“Hello Will.”

Pausing in the act of gathering his papers together, Will took in a deep breath before looking up at the FBI agent who darkened his classroom door like some ill spirit from his past. “Jack.” Will nodded a greeting, putting on his glasses. A useless accessory for improving his eyesight considering that Will’s vision was 20/20, but much needed by him to talk at his classroom. It was a flimsy barrier between reality and other people’s secrets but a useful one. “Dare I ask what brings you all the way down here.”

“I see your horse is hitched to a teaching post again.” Jack said instead of explaining as he stalked slowly into the classroom. It was unsettling, Will watching the Alpha with a wary eye. He was being treated like prey. No, not prey, just a creature that was weaker or less, but not for mating. Jack definitely wanted something from him though, and knowing Jack as well as he did, Will knew Jack would move other people’s Heavens and Hells to get it.

“My horse is more hobbled than hitched.” Will said brusquely, shoving his papers into his bag, neatness be damned. He had to get out of here before one of them did something stupid, like Jack make some unreasonable demand upon him or even worse, Will accepting it like he always did because he was a sucker for emotional blackmail. “What do you want, Jack?” he sighed, more at himself than the Alpha. He was already making bad decisions. Will already knew what Jack wanted from him. He followed the news.

“I have eight dead girls. Eight girls from eight different Minnesota campuses abducted in the last eight months.” and there it was. Jack never came to him empty handed as he slapped down a thick folder on top of Will‘s bag.

“I thought there were seven.” Will heard himself say instead of grabbing his things and going home, the Omega staring down at the folder like it were going to attack him. It would in a way, the marks it felt behind unseen by the naked eye.

“There were.” Jack, damn him, looked too pleased with himself for Will’s own good. He knew that Will would be following the cases he would have been placed on.

“When did you tag the eighth?” Will asked, wishing he could sound less interesting, having the aloofness in his speech that Hannibal seemed to achieve effortlessly.

“About three minutes before I walked into your lecture hall.” Jack said, standing too close to Will while still keeping the desk between them. It was a good tactic Will realized. Close enough to be physically imposing yet without making any physical contact as to not alert Hannibal to their meeting later on. It might have worked if Jack knew of Hannibal’s abilities as well as Will did. It wouldn’t surprise Will at all when he went home tonight if Hannibal asked him how Jack was doing.

Then Jack had to go and say something really stupid. “I need your help. I‘d like you to get closer to this.”

“You have Heimlich at Harvard and Bloom at Georgetown for that. They do the same thing I do.” Will sighed, placing the folder aside so that he could grab his bag and make a run for it. This conversation needed to come to an end.

“But that’s not really true, is it? You have a specific way of thinking that make you the best and that’s what I need for this case.” Jack growled, edging over to block Will as he tried to leave. He shoved the file into the Omega’s bag like he was trying to brand some part of him

“Then I’m not the one who you should be talking to.” Will snapped, flicking fingers at his collar. It was enough to make Jack pause and more than enough time for Will to escape, his bag feeling too heavy with the case file still in it.

oOo

“Doctor Lecter.” was said like shots fired. Hannibal was unsurprised to see Jack Crawford, looking ready to go to war with tense shoulders and a set face. Franklin gaped that the FBI agent like a gutted fish, caught in the crossfire of the two Alphas. Betas were usually indifferent to the affects of Alphas and Omegas, but caught in-between two Alphas trying to dominate such a small space was having an effect.

“I hate to be discourteous, but this is a private exit for my patients.” Hannibal stated, setting down the rules to the game between them by starting with boundaries.

“May I come in?” Jack’s courtesy was on the edge of his teeth as he made his own move, the Alpha trying not to give into the anger building up in the back of his throat.

“You may wait in the waiting room.” Hannibal offered though his stony tone of voice stating it was Jack only option. He added insult to injury by turning his attention back to Franklin, the slight being that he didn‘t consider the other Alpha worth his time.

“I’ll see you next week, Franklyn.” he dismissed the still stunned Beta before pausing in the doorframe to address Jack once again. “Unless of course this is about him.” Hannibal taunted. They both knew it wasn’t.

“Oh no. This is all about you.” Jack’s eyes narrowed as he tried to keep his words civil as he reminded himself that he was here to ask for a favor, not demand it. Jack realized that he must have failed because he was let for a long period of time in the waiting room, the space elegant and calming and in direct conflict to what he was feeling. Jack was tempted to ruin it but from what Alana had told him, Hannibal lived for courtesy and responded best to polite mannerisms. Jack had a bad feeling that the amount of ’pleases’ he would have to say to get Will back would more equate to begging.

After an indeterminate amount of time, long enough to annoy but short enough to still be considered reasonable, the doorway opened, Hannibal filling the frame. “Please. Come in.” was said politely, but with some ice encasing the words. Jack put on his professional smile in place though it felt flat to him.

Walking into Hannibal’s office for the first time was an experience, Jack momentarily distracted by it. It look like something out of another era, exotic yet modern, graceful and delicate in detail while still retaining a very Alpha like quality about it. Despite himself, Jack was impressed, the Alpha looking around with interest.

“May I ask how this is all about me?” redirected Jack’s attention back to the source, and yet possibly the solution, to all of his current problems.

“I think we both already know the answer to that.” Jack sighed, wishing he was here under better circumstances, ones that were to his advantage. He could do with some much needed leverage right about now. “Alana Bloom speaks very highly of you. I believe you mentored her during her residency at John Hopkins?” He hoped the mention of a mutual acquaintance would relax the doctor and make him more approachable.

Hannibal let Jack believe that such a poor ploy to appeal to the better nature he didn’t have was working. “I learned as much from her as she learned from me.” he said with an easing tone, as if the mere mention of the lovely Beta was lightening his mood.

“She showed me your paper in the Journal of Clinical Psychiatry. It was called the Evolutionary Origin of Social Exclusion, I believe?” Jack was pandering, knew he was, but it was for a good cause.

“And?” Hannibal prompted. He wanted to see Jack beg, wanted to bring the other man low just because he could. It was a fitting punishment for anyone with designs on his Omega. Will was his, mind, body and soul, and Jack was going to learn that even if Hannibal had to carve it into other people’s cold flesh to get the point across.

“Very interesting, even to a layman.” Jack said, dipping his head toward Hannibal. It was an act of deference from the old days, the kind one Alpha gave to another while in their territory.

“A layman? So many learned fellows going about in the halls of Behavioral Science and you consider yourself a layman?” Hannibal arched a brow at the other man. Jack was laying it on thick.

“I do when I’m in your presence.” Jack conceded, working up to his request. “I need your help. I think we both know why I am here.”

“You have come about Will.” Hannibal allowed the move to be made.

“Yes. I need him.” Jack had the gall to say.

“How unfortunate. So do I.” Hannibal said coolly, his fingers adjusting the pencil on his desk but lingered over the scalpel.

“Let me clarify. The FBI needs his services.” Jack licked his lips, the flesh there feeling suddenly too dry. He had made a misstep and now Hannibal was back on the offensive or so he thought.

“And they have it. I have been more than generous by allowing Will to return to his teaching position there, educating next generation of agents.” Hannibal pointed out. Jack’s request went far beyond just socially unacceptable. His rare gender aside, Will was valuable enough on his own merits. If Hannibal wanted to, he could keep the Omega locked up in his house and chained to his bed, and no one could say a damn thing about it. Letting Will return to work in a classroom full of mostly Alphas went far above and beyond most thresholds and standards of generosity.

“I realize that, but I need Will out in the field.” Jack explained as he raised his hands in mock surrender, attempting to placate even while he continued to press the issue.

“It has been brought to my attention by Alana that this is unhealthy for Will and I find myself agreeing with her assessment. With his gifts, Will is too vulnerable to the evil he sees there. He carries it with him for far longer than he should. The ghosts in his head outlast the corpses their killers leave behind.” Hannibal mused, toying with the scalpel before leaving it in its proper place.

“What he does, the way he thinks….I need him to look. Unfortunately, Will does it better broken than anyone else I know unbroken.” Jack admitted, even though he knew he wasn’t helping his case. All he could do was try to appeal to the Alpha’s humanity.

“Will is fragile, made brittle as a teacup from witnessing so much horror.” Hannibal said, putting on his concerned yet thoughtful face, like he was considering the information and willing to be swayed by the right information. “I will not have him ruined by you or anyone else.”

“People are dying….” Jack started to say much to Hannibal’s disappointment. How utterly boring. Jack was going for the moral high ground, hoping that Hannibal would follow him up there.

“I understand your predicament.” and didn’t that make Hannibal almost smile. He knew the predicament at its most intimate base levels. “I might be willing to allow Will to return to this kind of work but he must do so while under my watchful eye.”

“I can’t allow a civilian at a crime scene, especially one this high profile.” Jack argued feebly. He didn’t mind Will being on a leash, but he wanted to be the one holding the end of it.

“A civilian no, but you could allow a consultant. I have more than enough credentials that would prove beneficial to your investigations.” Hannibal countered.

“I have eight dead girls…” Jack tried to say but was cut short.

“And you will have many more the longer you consider my offer, which is perfectly reasonable.” Hannibal said, his tone hinting that this conversation was coming to an end whether Jack wanted it to or not. “I could take the offer off the table entirely and contact your superiors instead. Complain to them about your inappropriate interest in my Omega.”

Jack stiffened with rage, managing to breathing it out slowly through his nostrils. It reminded Hannibal of a bull getting ready to take the plunge toward the matador. “Then let me extend an invitation…”

oOo
Sleep was lovely. Will could definitely get used to more of it in his life. It seemed actually possible with Hannibal in the equation and in his bed, the Alpha’s presence alone easing Will’s night terrors and putting an end to his sleep walking.

Light barely made it though the heavy curtains, a few stray shafts stealing in like ill talented thieves who brought in richness of light instead of stealing from the room.

Blinking himself somewhat awake, Will’s consciousness hung hazily between fogs that crept through his mind. Currently, he was the perfect sort of warm that was just that side of being too hot but still relaxing, spread out on his stomach with his face buried underneath a pillow. It was made all the better by his coverings, Hannibal layered in among the sheets on top of Will. The Alpha covered him bodily and Will couldn’t bring himself to care, he was so comfortable. He knew it biological appealed to him on so many different levels.

Deep down, an Omega wanted to feel safe and guarded, especially in sleep when one was most vulnerable. A deep sense of calm could be achieved by an Omega when an Alpha laid out on top of them. As uncomfortable as it might make a Beta or as intolerable as an Alpha would find it, the weight bearing down on the Omega was appealing to the gender instead of stifling. Hannibal’s head was on top of the pillow Will was under, with his arms curled around it like it were the Omega he kept scenting in his sleep.

The thought of getting up and moving was too much to take in at the moment so Will drifted in and out of sleep, letting himself enjoy the sensation of being surrounded by Hannibal. The Alpha didn’t seem like he was going anyway fast either. Hannibal was under deep, completely all dead weight and relaxed muscle.

A cold nose snuffling at his neck awoke Will almost fully into consciousness, the Omega hazily taking a moment to realize it was not one of his dogs, the exploring tip too smooth and dry. He found in his moments of inattention that Hannibal had joined him under the pillow, finally finding the source of the odor he had been tracking in his dreams. From the feel of it, the Alpha was still asleep, his exploration meeting its end by burrowing his face into Will’s neck so that his hot even breaths tickled the skin there.

Will wiggled a bit to adjust, successful in only waking Hannibal up. He knew the Alpha was conscious, Hannibal not experiencing the in-between period of awake and asleep like most other normal human beings. The Alpha was fully aware, up and running the second he opened his eyes like someone had flipped his ’on’ switch. Will had found it disconcerting at first. Now he just thought it was annoying, the Omega feeling a touch jealous when he fumbled his way through mornings, not even really cognizant until he had his first cup of coffee. It didn’t help matters to find Hannibal showered, shaved, fully dressed in a suit, and putting the finishing touches on a breakfast found exclusively in most five star restaurants when in the same amount of time, Will had just barely managed to take a piss and pull on some clean pants.

Will huffed out air at the thought, the action making Hannibal begin to move off of him, misunderstanding the noise for discomfiture. The panic that filled Will had a prickly feeling to it, one that made his skin itch and turn cold. He found he didn’t want their morning to start out like this, confused and difficult. There would be time for that later, if at all. Right now, all Will wanted was to feel warm and safe and not think about anything more beyond that. He reached over his shoulder, his fingers brushing against Hannibal’s shoulder.

“Stay?” Will murmured. He couldn’t make Hannibal if he didn’t want to. Hannibal sighed in answer, but Will realized it must have been from surprise or relief because Hannibal was back in place, formally taunt muscles melting against Will’s body, encompassing him once again in body heat and heady scent.

It felt more than merely good. It felt right.
oOo
TBC

Chapter Text

“Will, you’re home.”

Hannibal sounded genuinely surprised, enough so Will felt guilt flare up in him. He often didn’t return home on Friday nights, choosing to send his weekends in Wolf Trap with his dogs. It apparently had become habit enough for Hannibal not to expect him back in time for dinner on Friday nights.

“Yeah, sorry. I guess I should have called or said something this morning.” Will mumbled, rubbing the back of him neck. He had just really wanting to see Hannibal, and sleep in their bed. The young lady that Hannibal had hired who looked after Will’s dogs did a wonderful job of it, so he knew they would be well taken care of in his absence. “I can leave if you want me to, and grab something to eat.”

It was a reasonable offer in Will’s mind. He knew how much time, effort, and planning went into every entrée so it was unfair to assume Hannibal would prepare enough food for two on a night he didn’t expect Will to show up. Hannibal’s answering expression said otherwise, the Alpha frowning at him.

“I never want you to leave, but I believe it has to be your choice to stay. This is your home, Will.” Hannibal said. “I am only hesitant because I believe you will not find this evening’s company to your liking, at least not half of it.”

“Why? Who else is here?” Will asked to have his question answered as Chilton entered the kitchen with full wine glass in hand, followed closely behind by Alana.

“What an unexpected surprise. Hannibal said you wouldn’t be home this evening. I’m happy to see that he was wrong.” Chilton said in greeting, looking every bit the rodent Will attributed him to in his head.

“Hello Will. It’s good to see you.” Alana smiled warmly at him, though she looked weary. Talking to Chilton for extended periods of time could do that to a person.

“Doctor Bloom and I have often spoken with each other about you, Mr. Graham, or should I call you Doctor Graham.” Chilton sleezed, his form of greeting oily and full of fakery. The expression on Alana’s face told an entirely different story in that matter, her appall not as well hidden as she would have liked.

Even if she hadn’t been there, Will didn’t need her to confirm the presence of a lie. He knew Alana would never discuss anything about him with another person, especially someone like Chilton. “No, I’m not a doctor.” Will strove to sound indifferent.

“You’re not FBI either.” Chilton observed, reminding Will that he was still dressed for work, wearing his badge. He was also armed, but Will doubted that Hannibal would appreciate murder in his kitchen. Then again, Hannibal had the air of a man contemplating strange thoughts, though not that the look as he appeared to be completely relaxed, mixing together mysterious ingredients while tenderized meat. “That’s a temporary identification badge.”

“Will holds a teaching position at the academy. He lends his services to the FBI as a profiler.” Hannibal intervened, gritting his back teeth. The dish was tricky and needed his attention if he wanted to execute it properly. Will had chosen to come home at an inopportune time, though the fact that he had unexpectedly come back to him filled Hannibal with an odd comforting sense of wholeness.

“A teacher…” Chilton looked positively giddy upon learning something else about the empath. “….and a profiler. Oh yes, that thing you do. You’re quite the topic of conversation in psychiatric circles.”

“Am I?” Will said softly, low and tense. He quite sure of who led such conversations. Chilton been hounding him for years, always on the edge of his peripheral. The man was an Alpha in the sense that his predator was a scavenger of opportunity, a hyena at best. It must of killed him when Will slipped through his fingers at the Auction, Hannibal outbidding while he pulled rank and intimidated any other buyer.

“Ah yes, A unique cocktail of personality disorders and neuroses that make you a highly skilled profiler.” Chilton was practically leering, Will feeling disgust run up and down his spine. He had dodged a bullet at Auction. If Hannibal hadn’t been there….

“Will’s not here to be analyzed.” Alana snapped, bodily putting herself between Will and Chilton.

“Perhaps he should be. We are woefully short on material on his sort of thing” Chilton smiled, the expression greedy. “Would you mind coming in to speak with some of the staff, Mr. Graham?”

“No thank you. I have a bad feeling that you would never let me out.” Will said coldly, reminding himself where he was and who he belonged to. Chilton wasn’t a threat to him, held no power over him in anyone’s eyes.

“No, no, no. Not right now of course.” Chilton pressed. “Soon. Maybe a special visit then….”

Everyone jumped as an oven door was slammed harder than necessary, all three turning to look at Hannibal who stared stonily back at them. “My apologies. Accidents happen even in my kitchen.” He said, the inflections of the wording odd. For some reason, it frightened Will, who suddenly become very aware of every sharp object in the well stocked kitchen. The array of knives at hand alone was impressive. What was strange though was he was frightened not for himself or even Alana, but for Chilton. There was warning there in that fake apology.

“Alana, Frederick if you would like to retire to the dining room, dinner will be done soon.” Hannibal more ordered than suggested. “Will if you’d like to clean up before the meal, there is plenty of time to do so.”

Sighing in relief, Will nodded, making for the stairs in the back instead of following Alana and Chilton out. He was finally getting to know the house well enough to navigate it without aid. The little map he kept in his wallet helped to. Will’s arm was caught before he could escape though. “I can make an excuse for you if you wish to remain upstairs for the remainder of the evening. I’ll bring dinner up to your room.” Hannibal offered, this sounding more like an apology than the polite deceit from before.

“I’m not going to let someone like Chilton dictate where I go in my own home.” Will snorted, Hannibal responding oddly by growing very still as he stared at Will who quickly reviewed his words. They both knew what had been said, what had been admitted, though Hannibal was trying very hard not to make a big deal about it.

Will freed himself from Hannibal’s hold on him but leaned in to dryly brush their lips together in a quick kiss. “I’ll be down when I’m done. Is there anything you want me to wear?” Will asked.

“You can wear whatever you feel most comfortable in.” Hannibal said but even that sounded bizarre to Will, like a test of some kind. “Go into my closet if you’d like.” he added before turning back to the preparations of dinner.

Will contemplated the Alpha’s words as he showered quickly, toweling off as he padded toward the ridiculously large rooms deemed as closets. He knew it had something to do with his collars, that much was obvious. The invitation into his closet was an interesting anomaly. They both knew that Will won’t enter Hannibal’s clothing space willingly unless under pain of death. So it made it the most opportune place to hide things from Will, the empath reasoned out Hannibal’s thinking as he let himself in. He found what he was looking for easily enough, the velvet boxes on the same shelving as all the rest of Hannibal’s jewelry. Among the glittering array of cufflinks, heavy watches, and rings Will never saw Hannibal wear, there were the cases that could only contained collars, the shape of the boxes unique in size and brand marking. To Will’s disbelief and mild horror, there were over a dozen there. Will made himself look through them all, one after the other more beautiful than the last.

The gold one must have cost a small fortune, the collar thick as three fingers and designed to be more like a bangle than a collar. It was engraved with a delicate yet complicated design Will had only seen in pictures of temples found only in India.

Out of all though, Will chose a silver choker style collar, the metal filigree of it made so delicately and with such skill it could have been metallic French Baroque lacework. The stylized blossoms were decorated with tanzanite, making the flowers a glittering purple blue. It reminded Will of forget-me-nots, the Omega trading out his leather collar for it. It was expensive, looked it, but still felt comfortably enough to wear, its bandwidth slim compared to some of the others. It would be a bright shining mark of ownership across his throat, one that would taunt Chilton till the end of his stay. Will dressed himself simply in black jeans and a black dress shirt left untucked, its top three buttons left wide open. He padded down bare foot though he usually wore at least socks on his feet. It was statement, all of it. The casual clothing was for him, the collar for Hannibal, and all of it an insult to Chilton. That he belonged here and belonged to another.

Instead of shrinking away from the thought of possible confrontation, Will felt himself actually looking forward to it. With the weight of a collar heavy around his neck and the feel of cool tile beneath his bare feet, Will discover that he didn’t feel weak.

He felt powerful.

oOo
Will came down in time to see Hannibal place the dishes on the table, but missed the informative introduction to the meal. To Will, it looked like tongue in some kind of sauce though. The Alpha was an excellent cook, but if Will was hard pressed to complain about something, it was that Hannibal seemed to have a deep love for offal. Will had eaten more organs in the last few weeks than he had in the entirety of his life, and that was saying something considering that he had grown up on the bayous of Louisiana where Cajuns ate anything that dared to poke its head out of the mud. Will was not especially enthused about it when the meat was confirmed.

“It was a particularly chatty lamb.” Hannibal said with a slight smile. He looked amused about something. Will assumed he missed the earlier part of the joke though Alana and Chilton didn’t seem to be on it either or notice for that matter. “Ah Will. You’re just in time.” Hannibal said as he pulled out Will’s chair for him, the Omega accepting his seat without complaint as it was pushed in for him as well. They had to establish a unified front before Chilton. Being argumentative about petty things would not be conducive toward that effort. And if Hannibal’s hands lingered over his shoulders a few seconds longer that usual as the Alpha, his Alpha, admired his new collar, all the better.

“The Romans used to kill flamingoes for their tongues.” Chilton was trying to sound worldly. Will observed it was his defense mechanism, the man intimidated by his dinner companions. He was well aware of Chilton’s gaze being drawn to his neck. Alana’s own was too, but Will didn’t mind if she looked.

“Don’t give me any ideas. Your tongue is very feisty.” Hannibal’s words making Will look over at him. “And as this evening has already proven, it’s nice to have an old friend over for dinner.” There it was again. That strange sensation that those words intended far more than what was initially being offered by their owner. There was a joke there but it seemed like Hannibal was the only one in on the punch line.

“To the Chesapeake Ripper. Dr. Gideon is going to provide us with a singular opportunity to analyze a pure sociopath. It is so rare to fine one in captivity.” Chilton’s toast was met with a mixture of emotions, amusement masked by a placid expression, aversion, and flat out disbelief.

“He’s not the Chesapeake Ripper, merely a plagiarist.” Will said bluntly. He almost felt sorry for Gideon to be in Chilton’s ham handed clutches, even if he did brutally murder his wife, her entire family, and most recently, a nurse. It had been all over the news. Will‘s right-to-work papers were still in transition, though he had been re-approved to carry a firearm and a badge. He had been spared from having to recreate the mess Gideon had made of the night nurse in his mind. The pictures had been bad enough to look at. “You’d better pray that the real Chesapeake Ripper doesn’t find out what Gideon did to that nurse.”

“Excuse me?” Chilton challenged while Hannibal looked on in fascination at Will. He had been careful not to discuss that particular case with Will, though he did enjoy conferring with Will over some of his past cases, his unique take on their killers. “Why would you say that?”

“Because he would find it rude, and make it a point to prove you, and anyone else who believed it, wrong. The Ripper has been quiet for two years. Announcing that someone else was claiming his work would be unwise. The Ripper is not one to take insults lightly.” Will said, looking into his glass of wine like it would give him all the answers to life‘s questions.

“And how would you know? I’ve been working exclusive with Gideon since his incarceration.” Chilton sneered, obviously becoming unsettled.

“You’ve forgotten about my unique cocktail of personality disorders and neuroses that make me such a highly skilled profiler.” Will threw the doctor’s words back at him. “I know what the Ripper can do because I can think like him.”

Caught up in that admittance, Hannibal fell a little bit more in love, or least his version of it, with Will. He was far too intrigued to halt the conversation though it was running dangerously close to him.

“Oh, and just how do you see the Ripper? How does he think?” Will thought that Chilton really didn’t know when to shut up. The man would save himself a lot of embarrassment if he just learned to stop talking.

“He’ll want us to know that Gideon is not the Chesapeake Ripper. That he’s better than him. He is an intelligent psychopath. He’s a sadist. That he’ll never kill the same way twice. That he is evolving his victims to art.” Will expanded, letting his mind slip backward into that space he kept exclusively for the Chesapeake Ripper, a place that the killer had hollowed out for himself within Will’s skull. It was only fair. He had stayed longer with Will than any other killer so he deserved the room.

“From what Jack has shown me, I can tell you I can see the Ripper in the nurse, but I don’t feel the Ripper. Like I said it’s plagiarism and rather blatant plagiarism at that.” Will said with disgust at the slight, his thinking shifting past his own, the emotion not all his in origin. “Plus Gideon isn’t fitting the pattern. The real Chesapeake Ripper kills in sounders of three. I use the term sounders because it refers to a small group of pigs. That’s how the Ripper sees his victims. Not as people. Not as prey. Pigs.”

At this point, everyone had grown quiet at the table, though each for very different reasons. Chilton sat with a growing fear worming up in his belly that he was about to be found out. Alana watched Will with a worried look in her eyes as Will’s face became too blank and his eyes vacant while he spoke of the Ripper and as the Ripper. Hannibal grew unnatural still on all different levels of being, spellbound by the observations of himself from his mate.

“There is a distinct brutality to his killings.” Will breathed out the words, their letterings sound tinged with awe and reverence. “True to his pattern, the Ripper has remained consistently theatrical. He’s an artist. He wants to perform. Every brutal choice has elegance……grace……”

“Be careful. They will say that you are in love.” Hannibal found his voice again when Will trailed off, seemingly lost in his own mind with the Ripper as company. It was lovely to think about in its complexity. Hannibal had never had the opportunity to be jealous of himself. It was an interesting sensation. “Displaying one’s enemy after death has it’s appeal in many cultures.”

“These people aren’t the Ripper’s enemies. They are more like pests he has swatted.” Will said softly, more playing with his food than eating it. The tongue looked too much like tongue for his liking. Will didn’t see the appeal of eating it.

“Their reward for their cruelty.” Hannibal misdirected to see where Will went with it. This was a dangerous game, but he was driven to play it.

“He doesn’t have a problem with cruelty.” Will snorted, amused at the thought even though it really wasn’t funny. “The reward is for their undignified behavior. The dissections are to disgrace them. It’s a public shaming.”

“He takes their organs away because in his mind they don’t deserve them.” Hannibal spoke in truths for once. It was refreshing to do so in front of witnesses.

“In some way.” Will muttered, his brow furrowing in agitation. Something was trying to get his attention. There was a clue running through his mind, the missing piece to everything wandering off to places unknown. It looked an awful lot like the ravenstag Will kept dreaming about. Damned if he could figure that animal out though. Was it a metaphor for the Ripper or for him?

“I see three possibilities. Gideon is the Chesapeake Ripper, or he just think he is, or he knows he isn’t.” Alana summarized, looking thoughtful. She reminded Will that other people were here.

“He is, he knows he is, and so do I.” Gideon said, looking tense while trying to come off as aloft. In Will’s uncharitable opinion, it made him look constipated.

“Did you discuss the Chesapeake Ripper’s crimes with Doctor Gideon before he murdered the night nurse?” Hannibal asked. Chilton was novice pretending to be a master. An amateur sculptor of the mind who tried to copy one of his betters for fame and attention with poor material and worse skill, presenting his childish attempt to the world as a masterpiece.

“Yes when I began to suspect what he was. Hearing he might have been exposed might have spurred him into action.” Chilton admitted, not seeing fault with his actions though it was becoming blatant what had actually happened.

“Is it possible you inadvertently planted the suggestion in Gideon’s mind that he was the Ripper?” Alana pointed out what everyone else was thinking as she carefully chose her wording.

“You not suggesting coercive persuasion?” Chilton prickled anyway at the implication.

“No. I said inadvertently.” Alana amended with a slight smile, taking a sip of her wine.

“Psychic driving is unethical.” Chilton was trying to claw his way back to the higher ground he had never had in the first place.

“But reasonable in certain circumstances.” was a shock to hear from Hannibal, Alana and Will turning to stare at the Alpha who continued to eat like he hadn’t said anything unusual.

“What circumstances?” Alana finally asked.

“It may have been useful in reminding Gideon that he was the Chesapeake Ripper, especially if he was repressing those memories. But he seems to have come to that awareness all by himself.” Hannibal said smoothly in the face of aversion. If Gideon thought he had an ally in Hannibal, it would be all the more easier to manipulate him later on. As inept as Gideon was, he did hold an interesting place of power. It could have its uses later on.

“Well, I don’t need Gideon to become anymore famous that he already is. The volume of his mail is already a nuisance. Sometimes I feel more like his secretary than his keeper.” Chilton complained fake, lamenting as he bragged about his lot in life, and entirely too grateful for the segway in conversation.

“Any specific correspondences that might have set him off? Anything that stands out?” Alana asked curiously.

“No. It’s mostly researchers or PHD candidates requesting interviews. A scattered dozen lonely hearts, seeking his hand in marriage.” Chilton grinned, the expression making him look even more hyena like in Will’s opinion as he gave up on finishing his dinner. Hannibal would just have to live with the fact that he didn’t like tongue.

“He butchered his last wife and her family on Thanksgiving.” Alana said dryly.

“There is no accounting for taste,” Chilton shrugged. “Or intelligence.”

“Murdering his wife was impulsive. The Ripper is methodical, meticulous. It is why he’s so hard to catch.” Will sighed, looking up at he ceiling. He had never noticed the dark metallic blue accents speckled throughout the lighter hued paint. He wasn’t sure if he was impressed by the attention to detail or should be worried about it. Seriously, who paid attention to how ceilings looked? It seemed like Hannibal did. Will wondered if all the rooms were like that, planned from rafters to floorboards. It said something about the Alpha. Will just wasn’t sure what.

“Was. So hard to catch.” Chilton snapped at Will before turning back to Alana when it was obvious Will wasn’t going to respond. “You talked to Gideon that length. I have to say that he is very familiar with you. He’s given you a lot of thought after your sessions.”

“How many have you had?” Hannibal asked though he couldn’t have cared less. He wanted to hear more from Will, but the empath seemed more involved with deciphering paint patterns than the Ripper’s own. With slight irritation he kept off his face, Hannibal wondered what the hell Will was staring at. He also noted that Will didn’t seem too fond of tongue. That or his appetite was put off by the conversation. Hannibal preferred to believe the later, finishing off his own portion of the rude bank teller.

“Two, a couple a years ago when he was incarcerated, and another one recently after the nurse.” Alana clarified. The encounters weren’t her fondest memories.

“Yes, I read your notes of course. They were more or less helpful as I conducted my own interviews with him over the years.” Chilton said snidely, becoming full of himself again as he regained mental footing.

“Well I’m glad I was helpful.” Alana smiled, more amused than insulted. Insults hurled by ants at the shoe descending upon them didn’t bother the foot.

“More or less.” Will muttered, rejoining them all. Whatever clue or notion that was traveling through his skull was sticking to the far perimeters of it. Trying to catch it now was a tiring exercise of mental patience.

“Doctor Bloom, if Gideon has been unethically manipulated somehow, I need to know. I would love your insight.” Chilton offered, wanting to seem magnanimous while still making a show that he had nothing to hide.

“Gideon aside, I’m more worried about what Jack will do. He’ll want to push the Ripper.” Alana mused aloud. There were other concerns here besides unethical treatment. She worried for Will and what course of action Jack might chose next to contend with the Ripper. The agent was starting to get reckless in his quest to apprehend his enemy. She didn’t want Jack to begin seeing casualties as an acceptable loss in his own personal war with the Ripper.

“He’ll kill again just to prove his point.” Will promised, though he didn’t know it, for them both. “Baiting the Ripper would not be wise. He‘s not a killer you can just lure out. He doesn‘t make those kind of mistakes.”

“Then how will he be caught?” Hannibal asked, daring to run the risk. Will was edging toward the truth even if he wasn’t fully aware of it yet. Hannibal didn’t want witnesses to this revelation, but it was to happen now, he would kill both Chilton and Alana without hesitation. It was a small price to pay for the truth.

“Pride.” Will answered after a long moment of thought. “He’s not greedy. He’s not lazy. He’s not controlled by anger, though it does motivate him. The Ripper is proud though. Proud of his art, proud of his skill.”

“So pride goes before the fall and all that?” Chilton smirked.

“It’s actually ‘Pride goeth before destruction and a haughty spirit before the fall.’ Proverbs 16:18.” Will corrected in a flat tone much to Chilton’s displeasure. “But the point is still the same. Yes, I believe pride is and will be the Ripper weakness and ultimately his downfall.”

“An interesting observation. I guess we will just have to wait and see if it pans out.” Hannibal rose to clear the plates, needing a moment to himself in his kitchen.

It was a lot to digest.

Chapter Text

Hannibal would always make the effort to invite Will to a night out. Though he retained hope, Hannibal didn’t expect Will to agree to go with him. Not that it mattered most of the time. With Will safely away in Wolf Trap, Hannibal was free to kill and bring his fresh meat home without being questioned or discovered. Though it was usually in his best interests for Will to not accept the invite, Hannibal found it unexpectedly grating. He didn’t like being dismiss by the Omega, his company rejected in favor of some stray dogs.

It was then when that hurt was pinned like a butterfly to a board to be studied that the offers started to become more real, Hannibal wanting Will to join him at least once. On his part, the empathic Omega could see the disappoint starting to seep in around the edges of the mask Hannibal wore. Will knew he was looking at something beautifully crafted over a lifetime to be appreciated and admired by others, but he was beginning to tell that something other lay beneath its veneer surface, hidden well behind walls. Like a blind man beginning to truly master Braille, Will was picking up on the subtleties that were Hannibal’s expressions. It was only a matter of time before he would be able to read them like an open book.

“Are you available this evening, Will?” Hannibal asked over breakfast, putting the finishing touches of crepes filled with soft vanilla blueberry goat cheese, and accompanied by scrambled eggs made fluffy with cream and seasoned with just enough sea salt to bring out the flavors of everything.

“Maybe.” Will grumbled into his coffee, dark and sweet , just the way he liked it. “I have some papers to grade but nothing I can‘t put off if it‘s important.” God, it was his least favorite part of his job, having to read through all those damn papers. The amount of typos alone made his eyes bleed and other parts of his brain hurt. One would think an FBI trainee would at least know how to use the damn spell check button. More mistakes meant more interaction as well, Will having to question the trainee or ridicule them later on after wasting his time trying to make sense of their word vomit. He was starting to wonder if they were doing it intentionally to get back at him for not answering questions in class, or ever really.

“I was given a pair of tickets by a colleague of mine for a very private event at the Baltimore opera. They are unable to attend but didn’t wish them to go to waste, seeing that the seats are very good. The Baltimore opera shall be performing ‘Vide Cor Meum‘.” Hannibal sounded very pleased about it. Will was aware only enough about opera to recognize the spoken title. He also knew that ‘Vide Cor Meum’ happened to be one of Hannibal’s favorite pieces of music. The attentive stillness he acquired while listening to it was a dead giveaway. It was a strange piece of music for an equally strange man, the song title meaning ‘Behold My Heart’.

“Will I have to wear a suit?” Will asked, watching as Hannibal’s shoulders dropping a few centimeters, the Alpha already expecting a refusal on his part and preparing himself for the imminent rejection.

“It is a black tie affair.” Hannibal confirmed, all but sighing as he already made ready to accept what he thought was the inevitable. Part of Will couldn’t really blame him. He had flat out refused every offer of socialization, usually choosing to return to Wolf Trap over spending his free time with Hannibal. For the most part, weekends were spent with his dogs, fly fishing, and puttering around his house, though this was slowly becoming a less common occurrence. Even someone as emotionally and socially stunted as Will could realize how much it must hurt to know that he preferred his dogs to people, even that of his own mate.

Another part of Will grew angry with everything. For Hannibal making him feel like the bad guy, for Hannibal coming to expect disappointment from Will like it was his lot in life, that Will couldn’t do something as simple as spend an evening together with the man he lived with and had shown him more kindness than any other person in his life. Sometimes Will wished Hannibal was more assertive or aggressive like most other Alphas were. It would give Will a better reason to hate him. Instead of feeling right, more often than naught Will just felt like a dick or some petulant child kicking his feet at a doting parent.

“What time do you want me ready by?” Will made himself say before his resolve failed him as he watched the Alpha‘s reaction. That was enough to make even Hannibal blink, the stoic man freezing mid-action of plating the delicate crepes to stare back at him before remembering himself.

“You are aware of what you are agreeing to, correct?” Hannibal said after a moment, and wasn’t it horrible to hear how hopeful he sounded while trying not to.

“An evening of wearing a penguin suit and listening to music I don’t understand.” Will shrugged. “And I know you have a tux in my size somewhere. I ran across it a week ago I think.”

“One should always be prepared for the unexpected.” Hannibal said lightly, setting one of the plates in front of Will. The bacon looked and smelled particularly good today, Will giving into the urge to eat the meat first, licking the grease off of his fingertips before answering. Hannibal couldn’t blame him really, and was in too good of a mood to scold him about poor manners. The snotty valet who had mishandled the Bentley was doing a finer job at being breakfast than carelessly parking cars.

“Yes, because nothing says excitement like the opera. I don’t even want to know how you got my measurements for it.” Will was willing to bet every penny he had that the tux would fit perfectly, like it were made for him specifically in mind. Knowing Hannibal, it probably was.

Despite everything, Will found that he liked surprising Hannibal. He could tell it didn’t happen often. Turnabout was fair it would seem, Hannibal surprising Will in return, for once the expression he wore appearing real. The Alpha smiled at Will, the expression soft yet cool as new snow, almost timid in nature which was a word Will would never normally use to describe Hannibal.

“Thank you, Will.” Hannibal said softly and Will couldn’t make himself regret his decision though he did feel like a complete bastard now. All he did was say yes to one measly evening out and he could make someone like Hannibal look that happy, like Will had just hung the moon and stars for him.

After getting the short end of the stick, it was hard for Will to remember that while someone else had gotten the long end, they were still holding a damn stick. That wasn’t exactly a prize for either person in that sort of situation. Will’s life had changed but he needed to remind himself to remember that Hannibal’s own had too. Biology had dealt the Alpha a Joker, or perhaps more fitting all things considered, the Ace of Spades for a mate card. If given the option, Will wouldn’t have been his own first choice by a long shot, being very well aware of his shortcomings. He just didn’t understand why Hannibal put up with them, even seemed to go out of his way to accommodate Will’s prickly nature and erratic sleep patterns.

Which was why much later on that evening, Will was staring at himself in a foggy bathroom mirror, the inner debate within churning on itself about whether or not to shave off his short beard. In complete disregard to personal fashion, Will grew it out mostly because he was lazy and just couldn‘t be bothered. That and once upon a time, facial hair had helped him slide by as a Beta. Male Omegas tended to look androgynous being naturally hairless with softer angles and curves to their physique, something Will always strove to avoid. A diet of stress, caffeine, insomnia, and cardio with the dogs kept Will lean and muscularly sharp enough to avoid suspicion. The perpetual short beard on his face finished off the illusion he had maintained for so long.

“Fuck it.” Will muttered, picking up his razor. He wasn’t in hiding anymore so there was really no point to it. He would have to wear a collar anyway so it wasn’t like he could hide his gender. Besides, this night was about Hannibal and seeing if he could get the Alpha to smile again. Such an expression was rarely worn by Hannibal, his smiles tight lipped controlled things that never showed his teeth.

When he was done, Will considered himself, having not seen that much clean skin on his face in a long while. He looked like he had just shaved off a decade along with all his hair. Will rolled his eyes at his reflection as he patted the still tingling skin dry, wincing at the sting of the aftershave. He looked ridiculous but there was nothing to be done about it now. Hannibal and everyone else would just have to get over it.

“Oh….” was the reaction Will was met with when he stepped out of the bathroom in his boxer briefs. He knew Hannibal would set out all the clothing he was going to wearing this evening. Honestly, Will had no idea what one wore under a tux, if an undershirt was required or not, but he was sure he was about to find out.

“I know, I know. It grows back. Just give it day or two.” Will snapped, focusing on getting dressed. As personally predicted, Hannibal had set out his clothing, the normal expected white shirt replaced with a bright cobalt blue one with no tie to impede the line of its collar. Being met with silence made Will look up in curiosity to find Hannibal staring at him. No, more accurately, staring him down. Will distinctly knew what meat felt like now, the Alpha looking at him like he were a meal.

“ ‘Oh’ as in ‘Oh, you like it’.” Will licked his lips nervously, crossing his arms over his bare chest and wishing he had more clothing on. His state of undress reflected how much he had come to trust Hannibal. For someone who wore multiple layers of complicated clothing on a daily basis, nudity didn’t bothered the doctor who always seemed to regard it with a professional eye of neutrality.

Until now.

“Very much.” Hannibal physically shaking himself to make himself stop staring Will down. Impossibly, the Omega was made lovelier to him. Will’s actions more than the actual event were charming Hannibal, earning his full attention, a thing that was so rarely given to others except for the rude dead.

“You can tell me if you like something. I’m an empath, not a psychic.” Will could feel himself reacting to the attention from his Alpha, his skin flushing and his scent growing sweeter. He was hugging himself again, but he didn’t know if it were a defensive reflex on his part to comfort and calm himself, or his way of imagining Hannibal doing it for him.

“We both know why I can not.” Hannibal said quietly, moving to stand in front of him. Will knew Hannibal wouldn’t risk such a thing because he presumed that more than likely Will would take it away. A few weeks ago, it would have been an accurate assumption, Will realized. He wasn’t going to apologize for his past behavior or the decisions made during that time though. The most Will could bring himself to do was lean up to rub his cheek against Hannibal’s own, an Omega’s version of scent marking.

Hannibal helped the Omega with his clothing and Will let him, it being his right if he wanted it, but mostly because Will hated dealing with the style of cufflinks Hannibal seemed to live for, was more than willing to accept help in this endeavor. The cufflinks were in the double paneled style and made of blackened silver accented with dark sapphires that Will just knew would be real. Hannibal’s own were different in construction and style, his tuxedo more traditional in the sense that it was entirely black and white. His coordinating cufflinks were a more plain silver and pearl with a swivel backing.

Will’s collar was left open, the top two button left conspicuously undone, the Omega knowing he would not be wearing a tie, accepted that. So he was surprised when Hannibal stayed his hand as he reached for his usual public accessory from the nightstand where it had been thrown earlier.

“If you would be willing to further accommodate me…” Hannibal almost made it sound like a suggestion, one that Will had the option of passing up.

“In for penny and all that.” Will said instead of arguing while trying not to dwell on the thought of Hannibal buying him even more collars. At this point if Will wanted to, he could wear a different collar everyday and not repeat a look once in a month’s time, each collar a crafted thing of beauty. Hannibal loved the rarefied, Will’s accessories unique in some way as well. The latest addition to the collection was a collar made of carved petrified wood, the growth rings within having turned to opal. It made the complex Celtic knot work pattern the collar was shaped into gleam surreal in starlight shades of greens, blues, and gold.

Hannibal nodded, looking satisfied as he left momentarily departed to the depths of his closet, a place Will never ventured far into. All those suits were intimidating enough on their own. An entire wall dedicated alone to shoes, that wouldn’t be able to speak a word of English between them their leather was so international, was enough to keep Will out.

Returning soon enough, Hannibal reappeared with a case in hand, one normally used to present jewelry than a collar. Its contents did nothing to dissuade this sentiment, Will mistaking the collar for a necklace at first. The lock was a dead giveaway to its true nature though. The metal was the same blackened silver of his cufflinks, the metal twisted in and over itself in Rococo style flowery loops. The curvature in the dark metal were accented by sprays of dark sapphires that followed flowing lines so that the collar glittered madly even in the sparest light.

Sighing, Will could even admit that it was beautiful as he carefully tilted his neck to the side to give Hannibal better access without offering up his neck to Alpha in submission. As per usual though, Hannibal made no move to place the collar around his neck, merely holding the box out to him. “How come you never want to put it on me?” Will asked, doing it for Alpha as per usual.

“It is not an issue of wanting to Will. It is more of a matter that we have a performance to attend, and I do not want to be tempt into missing it.” Hannibal said in a steady enough voice, though Will could pick up notes of strain along its edges. Will risked a direct look to find that Hannibal’s eyes were diluted, his distinctive iris a thin strip of color that was more red with lust than brown with calm.

“Am I tempting you?” Will found himself saying, wondering wildly if he was actually flirting with the Alpha. Hannibal’s immediate answer was him crowding Will, trapping the Omega in his arms, his fingers digging into Will’s flesh through all the layer of clothing. The Alpha’s teeth were at his neck, the tips of porcelain grazing the skin framing the collar. Will held himself very still, not knowing what he wanted anymore. The part of him that wanted Hannibal to back the hell off and give him space was getting quieter all the time.

In the end, Hannibal didn’t bite him, instead letting his lips linger across Will’s throat to find the finer points of Will’s jaw to molest. The disappointment that filled Will was depressing. He was losing a battle with himself and he couldn’t bring himself to really care anymore. Before pulling away, Hannibal rubbed his cheek against Will’s own, the skin of both freshly shaven and so smooth, returning the scent marking. Will didn’t take the Alpha’s departure as well as he should have, the Omega suddenly leaning in to press his lips to Hannibal’s thinner own, making the Alpha freeze. Will took it as a sign to continue, his hands raising up to cup Hannibal’s face, keeping it in place as Will deepened the kiss, the Omega licking his way inside the Alpha’s mouth.

Their scents were mingling in a tantalizing way, baking spices of cinnamon and nutmeg accentuating the peaches and bourbon smell that seemed to linger over Will’s skin since he stopped taking the heat suppressants. Spicy and sweet, together they were becoming something new and unique, something Will wanted to bathe himself in to keep with him always.

His lips followed Hannibal’s as the Alpha retreated from him, abruptly breaking the kiss, even going so far to cover his lips by touching the tips of his fingers to them. If Will had to label an emotion to the Alpha, he would have to say Hannibal looked startled. It was not an emotion he appeared used to wearing, but recovered beautifully from, his hand lowering as his eyes grew half lidded and heavy with lust. He leaned into Will’s space again to brush his lips against Will’s kiss swollen own.

“Later, beloved.” Hannibal whispered into the Omega’s reddened flesh before withdrawing entirely from the room, leaving Will to stand there like he had been struck. If asked, Will wouldn’t be able to say what stunned him more- their kiss, Hannibal’s open desire for him, his own need for Hannibal, or that he had just been named ‘beloved’, the word sounding natural coming from the Alpha, like he had been calling Will that their entire life.

Feeling unstable but in control enough to fake normalcy if he needed to, Will found himself following after his Alpha.

oOo

Though the performance had been lovely, stirred enough to make even Hannibal shed a tear, the opera ended up being a mixed bag for Will. He like all the performances well enough, probably more so than anyone else sitting in the audience. Being what he was, the empath tended to lose himself to the true nature of the music more completely than other people could. He had wept openly at the crescendo of the sonnet, relating to the emotions conveyed in words he didn’t understand, yet knew so well.

Upon reflection, Will thought the opera would be a great place if it weren’t for all the damn people. He sighed into his glass of surprisingly decent champagne, glancing over the rim at Hannibal who was holding court with Baltimore’s elite. The Alpha looked resplendent in his tuxedo, his manner so regal yet charming in nature it was making small parts of Will’s brain hurt. The whole thing though made Will think of pigs lining up to a butcher, and all but slitting their own throats for just the chance to speak with and fawn over their murderer.

The thoughts were uncharitable. Will knew this, wondering why his mind kept taking yellow brick roads of thinking when it came to Hannibal sometimes. He chalked it up to looking at killers and sadists for far too long, his roads of reasoning rotted out by the horror he had been made to witness.

Reminding himself not to be bitter about whatever was really bothering him, the thing he was very carefully not thinking about or trying to define, Will turned his attention back to the sculpture he had been pretending to study. Natural talents of empathy aside, it was obvious that the artist was motivated by rage that was bordering more on petulant than righteous.

Feigning contemplation let him ignore all the staring that was going on around him, Will the focus of it. This was one of the reasons he had never gone out with Hannibal. He knew the good doctor was a social butterfly with many, many acquaintances, colleagues, and admirers, all of which would be curious about Will and their unusual relationship. Will was sure there were more than a few bitter hearts about a pure Alpha like Hannibal being suddenly taken off the market by an male Omega bought at Auction. Will found himself wondering just how vindictive they would be about it. He wondered if he should have brought his gun with him. He had seen people kill for less.

Though Will had no allusions about his personality or the lack of fairer points about it, the Omega was well enough aware of his appearance. He had to be, having to adjust and hide it for so long under messy hair, scruff, layers of clothing, and a general air of unfriendly discontent. A key mark of an Omega was a certain high level of attractiveness, though it tended to run more neutral in the males. Female’s facial features were usually well defined and doll like, their bodies slender with wide hips, full breasts, and plush lips. Males mirrored those tendencies minus the breasts of course, with softer curves and natural hairlessness. Will had been lucky in the regard that he was taller than most of his gender, and had the rare ability to grow facial hair. He assumed it had something to due with him being a pure though he couldn’t be sure. He’d honestly never given it much thought.

With his face shaved with shaggy hair trimmed back, and in an outfit that showed off his lean, muscular figure, Will was definitely feeling exposed. The new collar wasn’t helping either. For all its artful dark metal, the many sapphires embedded in the metal made the damn thing glitter like a blue flare every time he turned his head. It stood out like a fresh wound against his neck.

At least he looked the part, more than a few looks of admiration were mixed in among the open stares and icy glares affixed in his direction as he pretended to enjoy the ridiculous sculpture of mixed media. Emotions varied from mildly curious to near murderous contempt, Will amusing himself by mapping out the why behind it. Once again, Will wished for the presence of his firearm. He would just have to rely on social graces to protect him, the thought of which made Will grimace. Because that had worked out so well for him in the past.

Snorting into his champagne, Will resisted the childish urge to stick his tongue out at all of them. He was not here to embarrass Hannibal or piss off the Alpha’s admirers. From the looks of it, one such broken heart was trying to get Hannibal’s attention right now from the sidelines, edging closer and closer to where Hannibal was chatting with an extremely slender, dark haired women and her entourage. Will vaguely remembered being introduced to her, the Omega recalling that her name was Mrs. Komeda. She was an older female Alpha who was a famous novelist from Boston, and appeared to be on very friendly terms with Hannibal, her status made obvious by her constant positioning by Hannibal’s side, a queen of the social circles to Hannibal’s king. They made a formidable pair, her stunning red couture evening gown standing out starkly against Hannibal‘s accenting neutrals as they traded wit and remark.

Watching the rotund interloper with amused interest was much like observing a fish daring to swim among sharks. Will noted that the man was practically vibrating out of his skin with excitement and the possibility of gaining attention from the object of his desire. As far as Will could tell, the man was a Beta though his companion was obviously an Alpha, one whose constant gaze was starting to make Will’s skin crawl. Taking a real look at him, Will wondered what his design was and how soon he would have to look at it. The thought was enough to make Will start wandering closer to the little gathering, though he paused here and there to look at other art pieces. He didn’t want to come off as worried, and tip off the other Alpha. He really should have brought his damn gun.

“He used to throw such exquisite dinner parties.” Will could hear Mrs. Komeda chiding Hannibal. She was probably only one of the few that could, something that made Will smile despite the present danger, especially when Hannibal stared back at her. “You heard me. Used to.”

“And I will again.” Hannibal defended himself with a smile, gesturing wide with his champagne glass. “Once inspiration strikes.”

Mrs. Komeda remained looking unimpressed, wearing an elegant but obvious ‘don’t bullshit a bullshitter’ face.

“You can not force a feast. It must present itself.” Hannibal said in justification.

“It’s a dinner, not a unicorn.” Mrs. Komeda said witheringly.

“Ah but the feast is life. You put that life in your belly and you live.” Hannibal countered to answering light applause. Will couldn’t resist the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes anymore. He had no idea how Hannibal put up with this sort of pandering or why he seemed to enjoy it. It was like being the smartest kid on the short bus in Will’s opinion.

“I think this young man is trying to get your attention.” Mrs. Komeda deigned to acknowledge the Beta’s presence, but only because he was almost standing right on top of them. Her tone suggested that his intrusion was more of a hindrance than an open invitation to speak, but the Beta took it as the latter and ran with it.

“Hello, Franklin.” Hannibal said with a polite smile that didn’t touch his eyes.

“Hi. So good to see you. This is my friend Tobias. “ Franklin said, grinning like he had just won a prize. He was so enamored with Hannibal he didn’t even turn to properly introduce the other Alpha. Will was fine with that, memorizing the name and Tobias’s facial features for the first sketch artist he tackled at the academy.

“Good evening.” Hannibal tipped his head to Tobias who returned the greeting with a near constant stare. It wasn’t from admiration though. If Will had to guess, he would have to say that Tobias was sizing Hannibal up for something.

“How do you two know each other?” Mrs. Komeda asked, though her words clearly stated how unlikely that was. That she doubted it was anything to due with pleasure or willingness on Hannibal’s part. Will found himself understanding why Hannibal enjoyed speaking with her. The woman was a delight of inflected speech, disarmingly charming while still retaining a wit and biting insult within the spaces between her words.

“There should remain some mystery to my life outside the opera.” Hannibal zigged the conversation away from that undesirable topic. Too bad for him that Franklin had every intention of zagging it back, subtlety much like finer social graces lost on him.

“I’m one of his patients.” Franklin announced to the room, making Will want to face palm at the obvious man’s faux pas. And here Will had thought his maladroit etiquette was bad.

“Oh.” Mrs. Komeda offered up an unimpressed sound, like it was obvious, just like it should have been obvious to Franklin to drop this line of conversation and fuck off. Will was finding it hard not to laugh, the entire situation was just too funny. He found himself liking Mrs. Komeda though. She was elegant but still retained an unique edge to herself, one that her shallow company failed to dull. All the things she left unspoken were apparent to him though the words she did utter were sincere. Will liked sincerity.

“Did you enjoy the performance?” was Hannibal’s way of trying to regain control of the conversation.

“I did. I loved it, ever minute.” Franklin said, greedily lapping up the attention.

“His eyes kept wandering.” Tobias spoke and Will’s attention was rapt. If he had any doubts about Tobias being a killer, they were dismissed by that sonorous voice. “More interesting in you than what was happening on stage.”

“Don’t say too much. You must leave something for us to talk about next week.” Hannibal smoothed out the awkwardness that could have come with that sort of statement with a smile and tilt of head, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Tobias responded in kind, his stare a special kind of eerie.

The Alpha’s designs had shifted onto Hannibal. Tobias was planning something. His gaze was too direct, too confident without being sexual. Hannibal was something new to him, a toy he had happened upon to play with. Will had the bad feeling that felt like truth to him that Tobias broke his toys, broke them bloody. Without a body or evidence to go along with the killer though, it was all supposition on Will’s part and he knew it. Even with his reputation, he just couldn’t go up to Jack and demand he arrest someone on the basis that the man make Will’s skin crawl. Then again, Will also didn’t think Jack would find it funny if Will’s lied and told him that this Tobias was the Chesapeake Ripper just to get what he wanted.

What should have ended a while ago if Franklin had been born with even the limited sense of a gnat, now continued on with no seeable end in sight. Franklin was currently rambling on about cheese and divination, leaving his audience miffed and bored. It was possibly one the most hilarious things Will had witnessed in a long while. Hannibal was caught under the trappings of proper etiquette and social status. Though he was remaining cordial, it was obvious, at least to Will, that he wanted Franklin to leave. Or break his neck perhaps.

As amusing as this all was to see Hannibal so annoyed and put out, it was starting to irk Will. The Alpha was here with his mate and Franklin, this nothing Beta, was making advances on him, clumsy attempts but obvious to anyone with eyes and a basic sense of smell. Betas didn’t give off a lot of scent. What little they did emit was usually equated to mild and earthen. The strong smell of wet dirt was making Will’s upper lip curl in disgust. There were two different kind of dangers here that he would have to meet head on if he wanted to save Hannibal.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Will gave his near empty flute to a passing waiter, sidling himself up beside Hannibal right into his personal space, even going so far as to rest his arm around the Alpha‘s waist, the touch light but the meaning of it obvious.

Mine.

Hannibal stiffened but out of surprise than offense. This was a night for small miracles it would seem. First the kiss and now this very public display of affection. Will almost never outright touched the Alpha of his own volition, and never while around other people. This gesture was the equivalent of pissing on Hannibal’s leg, to mark him, to keep him safe from other’s attention. Will was obviously not pleased about Franklin, though Hannibal doubted Will actually felt threatened by Beta. The Omega was even going so far as to turn his neck, practically baring it to show off his collar to Franklin. The open display caused the Beta to trail off, his dismal attempts at conversation dying on his tongue where they should have stayed from the get-go.

“Ah Will, there you are. Are you enjoying the exhibition?” Hannibal asked, turning his attention to Will as he returned the gesture by placing the palm of his hand to the small of Will’s back. In a true Omega reaction, Will arched his spine, leaning into the touch as he pressed himself up against Hannibal, Franklin looking livid about the public display of affection.

“More or less.” Will said rather coyly with a shrug. “The Van Gogh was a lovely surprise, exceptional really. The man had such a lovely soul.”

“He was insane and committed suicide.” Franklin snorted rudely in disgust.

“Hardly.” Will aimed to sound uninterested, like it wasn’t worth his time to explain further, but was doing so purely out of courtesy. “That’s a common misconception. Van Gogh suffered from bouts of depression and social anxiety but he wasn’t insane. Grievously misunderstood and underappreciated in his own lifetime is far more accurate. The mistaken belief that he committed suicide is also a common misconception by the uneducated.”

“We haven’t had the pleasure, Mr….” Franklin seethed through gritted teeth that Will supposed was his attempt at a smile.

“My apologizes. I have been terribly rude with introductions. This is my mate, Will Graham. He is a teacher for the FBI as well as one of their most talented profilers.” Hannibal said loftily, his voice swelling with pride. Will bit the inside of his cheek to keep from blushing from the unexpected praise. He was only willingly to play the sweet, mincing Omega card so far.

“You’re an Omega.” Franklin stated the obvious, making it sound like an insult instead the evident information it was.

“And a very special one at that.” Mrs. Komeda intervened, looking as done as the rest of them of this. “Only Hannibal would be able to find one so gifted and accomplished. You probably recognized dear Will’s name from the news. He has worked on some very high profile cases.”

Mrs. Komeda was quickly becoming one of the few people in Will’s life he liked as he watched Franklin grow sourly sullen. “And there is your unicorn, Hannibal. Throw a dinner in Will’s honor. Even you can’t find a better source of inspiration than that.”

“I bow to your wisdom. That is an excellent idea.” Hannibal grinned, still showing no teeth but looking more relaxed as things fell once again in his favor, turning back toward the Beta. “I’ll bid you good evening, Franklin, seeing that I have much to discuss and plan out now. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Publicly dismissed, even Franklin had enough common sense to realize that his opportunity to speak with Hannibal was over and done with. The Beta left glaring open hate at Will with Tobias trailing after him, the Alpha looking too calm and pleased with himself. Little did Tobias know, he was going to be on the top of Will’s to-do list tomorrow morning. That man was hiding the kind of secrets Will moved through like a shade, trading bits of his soul and sanity for passage through the dark waters of humanity.

“Is everything alright, Will?” was the question that snapped Will out his moment of deep thought and personal promise, the Omega looking up to see feigned concern on Hannibal’s face. Curiosity was the real emotion here behind the mask. Will wondered if he should point that out, but reminded himself that they were in public.

“Yes. Just tired.” Will smiled apologetically, keeping with their theme of intimate normalcy. He was well aware of his arm still heavy around Hannibal’s waist, and Hannibal’s hand was like a heated brand on his back.

“Then I will bid everyone ‘Adieu’.” Hannibal rose his voice to address his court. “And until next time.”

Before Will had a chance to protest, though he had no real want to stay here, the Omega found himself being led toward the exit, the pair only pausing long enough in their escape to claim their coats.

“We could have stayed.” Will offered as they waited for the valet, the night air pleasant enough while it still retaining a sharp chill in its dark.

“I prefer to end engagements on a high note.” Hannibal shook his head. The evening had been full of delights for all the senses, despite Franklin‘s disruption though the Beta‘s misguided affections had provoked an unexpected reaction out of Will. He wanted to see more of the Omega’s possessive side, and experience that casual affection from his mate on a regular basis. “Always leave them wanting more.”

“I didn’t like that man.” Will commented out of nowhere, his eyes growing unfocused as the empath looked inward to review the incident.

“Franklin? I promise you, he is completely harmless…” Hannibal chuckled though his mirth was brought up short by the sharp look Will gave him.

“No. The other one. Tobias.” Will clarified, watching as Hannibal’s face took that mask like quality again. For something whose purpose was to hide, its presence gave away to Will that Hannibal already knew or at least suspected what Will had picked up.

“Do you think he’s dangerous?” Hannibal asked, pleased that Will had noticed that too. Tobias was a killer, a concept that the both of them were very familiar with for different reasons.

“I don’t think. I know he is.” Will said. “And so do you.”

Hannibal was saved from responded by the car pulling up and having to deal with valet. The silence in the car on the return home was heavy and thick but not uncomfortably so. It held an air of too many thoughts and not enough words to convey them.

“This would go better if you were honest with me.” Will shattered the silence first with his own particular brand of blunt candor. Though most found it offensive or off-putting, Hannibal found it refreshing, even now.

“I’m honest.” Hannibal said, because half truths were still real things, having a strong base even if the branches were malleable with lies.

“No, not perfectly.” Will cut Hannibal’s forest down.

“As honest as anyone.” Hannibal revised.

“No, not really.” Will corrected him. “I talk at you more often than I talk to you, the real you. I raise forts, but you wear masks and hide behind walls.”

“How does that make you feel?” Hannibal asked, feeling pride in his mate. First recognizing on sight alone what Tobias was, and now rushing at his walls instead of trying to scale them.

“How doest that make you feel?” Will threw the question back at Hannibal, though it sounded more thoughtful than disrespectful. “I would imagine that it would feel lonely. No, I know it would. Like a dull constant ache you live with, grow used to being there….”

Will trailed off becoming lost in thought again as he studied Hannibal’s profile which was surprisingly becoming easier for him to do. He saw that thoughtfulness was being reflected back at him, Hannibal considering the Omega’s words with the utmost care.

“It can.”
oOo
TBC

Chapter Text

Will was spending more weekends at home with Hannibal, though their time was spent as much apart as together. Will would work on his lures, or read in his room, usually passing out in one of the overly comfortable chairs with blanket tented over him. Hannibal would peek in on him, but would never enter the room uninvited. He wanted Will to see this space as his own so that he would feel comfortable enough to start expanding territory elsewhere to other parts of the house.

The kitchen was becoming common ground for them. Hannibal was in a state of amused wonder about how comfortable he felt with Will in it, the Omega even offered to help with meal’s preparation more and more. The empath was an excellent student, picking up on Hannibal preferences instantly. It made Hannibal want Will to be cutting into a different sort of flesh instead fruit and vegetables.

They had their lazy days with even lazier mornings. When neither of them had anything important planned Hannibal and Will would lounge in bed well into the morning until it threatened to turn into afternoon, the late hour finally guilting them out of bed. It had surprised Will that Hannibal was so agreeable about sleeping in, but he was grateful that the Alpha did. Though Will was sleeping for longer periods of time now and often uninterrupted, there was something sumptuous about sprawling out across a plush, night cooled mattress.

More often than naught, on mornings like these Will would wake to find Hannibal laying on top of him, a very Alpha response to an Omega in their bed. It was answered in submission, Will letting him, Omegas built to mentally and physically enjoy the weight of another on top of them. It happened often enough that Will made himself wake up before the Alpha(not an easy thing to do) and keep still so that he could feel Hannibal slumbering on top of him, listening to his heartbeat and even breathing. It was a guilty pleasure on his part, Will allowing himself to wallow in the sense of safety it gave him.

Keeping very still as not to wake his Alpha, Will soaked in the blanket of body heat and baking spice scents that were all Hannibal. This morning was especially good, the way that they were positioned. Will was very much aware of Hannibal’s cock nestled between his ass, feeling much larger and heavier than his own, but that was to be expected. Alphas were built to breed, to knot their mated during Ruts or be brought full by an Omega’s Heat. They were in neither state right now, though his experience was extremely limited in such matters. It was only a question of time, Will knowing his Heat was coming fast upon them, and it would be bad. A flood that had been held back for far too long, a storm on the horizon was coming to make already high waters rise. Will had no floodgates left to protect himself, his heat suppressants lost with his pretend Beta status.

For now though, it was just them, just Will and Hannibal, and the Omega found that he was liking it. There were no expectations at the moment, other than to eventually get up when they felt hungry. A nose actively scenting the back of his neck told Will that Hannibal was up, his inhalations tickling Will behind his ears and made his dark curls flutter.

Waking to find his mate beneath him was still a new enough experience that Hannibal felt the need to explore and push boundaries. Will’s scent was alluring enough on its own, but up this close, it was near detrimental to his control. The Omega smelled like new life, pure and fresh, Hannibal wanting to sink his teeth into that sweetness and take it all in for himself.

Will knew his scent was having an effect, though Hannibal was keeping his lower half purposely still. The courtesy shown was nice, but Will would have to be dead not to notice the erection pressed up against his ass. Aiming to ruin that control because he could, Will arched his butt into Hannibal with a smooth roll of his hips. The direct friction was delicious, Hannibal’s answering bitten off groan even more so.

“Will….” It sounded more like a warning than a plea, teeth’s edge running across Will’s skin, threatening to mark it with indentations. Will needed this though, could let himself take this for himself just this once. Hell, he was already on his belly, being pressed into a mattress with his ass trying to gain air. He might as well finish what he had started.

The Omega was playing a dangerous game if he didn’t plan to follow through. Hannibal had no intention of forcing Will, seeing no point and taking no pleasure in it, but he deplored stupidity, even more so careless stupidity. Will had proven himself to be clever and intelligent though, so Hannibal waited to see what the Omega was planning to do.

Making himself relax into the Alpha’s weight, Will turned his throat to the side in open invitation to Hannibal, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Hannibal was watching him with blown eyes, his mouth partially open to reveal sharp looking white teeth. Will wondered if that was why Hannibal’s smiles were so tight lipped. The Alpha did strike him as person who would want to show off something he felt was a shortcoming.

“Are you sure?” Hannibal asked with a growl, pressing down with his hips to remind Will what he was about to sign up for. This would mean more than just sex. Bonds were established and built in the moments like these.

“I don’t want my first time to be while I’m in Heat.” Will admitted, wiggling out of his t-shirt while trying not to dislodge Hannibal or break contact with him.

“That is practical.” Hannibal nodded, accommodating the movement but not mirroring it just yet. First time. He had suspected that Will was a virgin but had never brought it up. His Omega, his mate, was untouched, unsullied by another. His body fear of another Alpha’s taint or influence. The Alpha inside Hannibal howled as the man kept his words even. “So you are doing this to ease into it?”

“No, I’m doing this because I want to. I want to remember it.” Will growled, shooting a glare at Hannibal for ruining the mood. He didn’t want to fight in play or for real. He wanted something simple. “Quit psychoanalyzing me. I’m not your patient and you’ll like me better if you stop.”

“I like you already, Will. I like you very, very much.” Hannibal murmured, pulling Will’s drawstring pants down his legs, the Omega taking over when they got past the knee to kick them off with his feet.

“Shut up and strip.” Will ordered, wanting to feel skin on skin contact like it was a burning addiction he never knew he had.

“We’ll have to work on your foreplay.” Hannibal mused, though Will could hear the amusement in his voice as the Alpha removed his night clothes with quick efficiency, doing his best not to move off of Will.

“Fuck me.” Will snapped, needing more, feeling greedy for something he couldn’t define.

“So eloquent.” Hannibal took the opportunity as he hovered over Will to check him, reaching behind the Omega so that his fingers met warm slick that was seeping down Will‘s thighs it was so in excess.

Will bit his lips hard enough to bleed as a finger was introduced inside of him, followed soon by another, and too soon by a third. The digits twisted and fanned, loosening up a tight flesh rim until all Will could do was groan. He tried to push back onto those intruding fingers, fuck himself on Hannibal’s hand, but the Alpha leaned back to place his free hand on the small of Will’s back, stilling the Omega. He realized that Hannibal was enjoying the view, of watching himself break Will’s seal, his fingers freely sliding in and out of the Omega with no resistance. It made Will’s scent blossom and grow more intense as even more slick was produced, the smell of white flowers filling the room to remind Hannibal of star jasmine and magnolia.

It was too much even for him, the feel of Will’s slick coating his fingers, the aroma of their scents coming together seamlessly, the sounds that Will was making with every flick of his fingers and roll of his wrist. The Omega moaned like he was dying, having a need so great it was strangling the very life out of him. Pulling out, Will’s fluid clung to his fingers, sweet and sticky, Hannibal shamelessly licking the moist digits clean of slick as he pressed the head of his erection into Will. The rest followed quickly, Hannibal wasting no time in hilting himself in that tight heat, leaning over as he did so to bite down on the back of Will’s neck.

Will hadn’t even noticed his eyes were closed until they flew open, Hannibal’s teeth sinking into his neck’s nape at the same time he was penetrated for the first time in his life. The pain of teeth parting his flesh turned sweet with pleasure that made Will’s body sing. Hannibal was covering him again with his body so Will couldn’t move, even if he wanted to which he didn’t, pinned and pierced in place by two points on his body.

Hannibal felt his teeth render Will’s skin, hot blood welling up to meet his tongue, the Omega tasting as sweet on the inside as out. His blood was an elixir that made Hannibal want believe in God again and give thanks. “Mine.” his inner Alpha roared, echoing through the halls of his mind palace. He couldn’t resist giving Will a little shake, the Omega having gone too still underneath him. He would not have his mate passing out from shock or pain.

It was enough to make Will come back to life, the Omega pushing back. Heat, sodden and wet, encased Hannibal from tip to root. There had been others before Will, short affairs that had only been a distraction at best, but it had never been like this. This creature beneath him making obscene noises of pleasure had been made from him, all for him. No one else. Will was his, mind, body and soul. He would carve his mark deep enough into all three so not even Will could doubt it.

Relief was an odd sense to experience at this moment, but it was the most prevalent, Will enjoying it as much as everything else. It was good, the pain was good, all the pleasure was beyond good, conflicting and consistent sensations weaving together to make Will pleasantly numb yet feeling more alive than he had felt in years. There was a calmness there that was not his own and it took Will a moment to realize it was the beginnings of the Bond forming between them. The groundwork for it was being laid out by every slow purposeful thrust, Hannibal’s movements languid but having definite intent.

A rush, no more like a wave, broke against the walls of Hannibal’s mind palace, rich and warm as the Mediterranean in Italy. Still with Will in body, Hannibal divided himself to observe what was happening to his mind, gazing up in wonder as he watched the beginnings of a bond form between them. So familiar with his own mind, he could see what linked him to Will, the ties that bound them like molten living silver, spider web silk made of mercury. It was possibly one of the most beautiful things Hannibal had ever seen in his life, the Alpha weeping tears of reverence and joy in the inner sanctity of his mind palace.

The back of his neck felt wet and too hot, Hannibal’s teeth still embedded in the flesh there. Will knew that there would be a marking wound there, one that would scar thick and pale. It would be Hannibal’s assertion upon him, and no one would be able to challenged or question the Alpha’s claim upon him now. Not Chilton. Not Jack. No one.

To Will’s surprise, it didn’t make him feel trapped. It made him feel safe. Even cared for as the ruined flesh was finally released, a thick tongue laving over the wound to clean it. Will’s head lolled to the side so that he could looked up at Hannibal as he continued to thrust into Will’s plaint body.

Even like this, Hannibal looking in control though his eyes were darker than Will had ever seen them. There was something there, something cold and fierce, but Will couldn’t bring himself to feel frightened of the predator staring down at him, peeking out from behind its mask. Will watched it back with hazy interest, a pressure building up low and tight in his belly. The end was near, his own erection digging into the mattress to find the luxurious fiction there, the kind only silk sheets could provide. He was going to come untouched and something about that thrilled Will. That Hannibal could do that to him.

Hannibal’s lips were stained dark and wet with his blood, making Will want to taste them. Will realized that he must have said that thought aloud because Hannibal leaned in with a wicked smile to press their lips together. Will tasted his own iron, chasing the flavor of it with his tongue as he cleaned off the Alpha’s lips. Hannibal was driving into him now unchecked, his strokes rough and becoming mistimed. Will would have flung his head back, but it was being held in place by firm hands as Hannibal attacked his mouth, nipping at his lips with his tongue and teeth until they bled.

If he really wanted to, Hannibal could make himself last, hours if he desired to, but Will was reaching his zenith, his flesh tightening all around him so sweetly. Hannibal chased after his own pleasure, imagining Will reborn in the blood of his victims. Will’s body may have been presented to him untainted, but the Omega’s mind was a place of moving shadow, mist and shade. Hannibal wanted to tease that darkness and lead out whatever resided there. Will had so much potential, too much to waste on fools. No, Hannibal would remake Will in his image, and give him a reason to exist other to serve others. He would be the one to set Will free. In that thought, Hannibal found his bliss.

They came gasping with splashes of crimson on their lips, Will first with Hannibal following soon after, the Omega groaning as he felt heat pool deep within him, marking him inside as well as out. The Bond between them hummed from its place deep within them, Will sensing Hannibal all around him, his utter calm, his control which almost frightening in its magnitude. It made Will wonder what Hannibal was getting from him.

“Your emotions.” Hannibal answered, making Will wonder if he had spoken aloud again and not realized it, or if it was one of the Bond‘s side effects. “Your intensity. It’s like fire….You feel so deeply, too deeply.”

“It is my gift. It is my curse, and now it is yours.” Will said sadly. “I’m sorry.” A kiss was not the answer he was expecting from Hannibal, sweet and almost too tender to bear.

“I will free you from it. You will become what you were always meant to be.” Hannibal said, his words sounding like a promise, feeling like one being forged between them with something more damning than words.

“Insane?” Will hazarded a self deprecating guess to have his chin held in place so that sanguine met blue, locking the look between them into place.

“Beautiful.”

oOo
TBC

Chapter Text

The call came early in the morning, earlier than Will would have liked. He had been enjoying the thing other people called sleep at lot more lately. The Omega was currently in bed pressed up flush to his Alpha, Will‘s head tucked under Hannibal‘s chin, their arms splayed out around each other with their legs woven together, breathing in their combined scents. Hannibal was the one who answered the phone, curling himself over his mate to keep Will close as he reached for the lamenting technology that was trying vibrate itself off of the nightstand. Will was still well in the process of waking, stuck between ‘what fuckery is this?! It’s dark outside’ and ‘someone had better be really dead to get a call this early’.

“It’s the Ripper.” caused both men to flinch for different reasons, Hannibal with an annoyed look as he held the phone at arm’s length away from his ear, and Will groaning as he pulled a pillow over his head, curling more into Hannibal’s side. At least someone around here had had their coffee. Will would have to tell Jack to cut back or switch to decaf. No one should be that loud or alert at…..Will rose his head to check the ridiculously ornate clock on Hannibal‘s side…….4:48am.

Other things were chattered over the phone, Will missing most of the key points, but it sounded like Hannibal couldn’t get a word in edgewise either from arm‘s length, the Alpha looking at the phone with a miffed expression. Sighing, Will sat up to take the phone from Hannibal, flopping back as if dead as soon as he accomplished that. “What do you want, Jack?” he interrupted, having no qualms about being rude unlike his mate, who huffed at him softly through his nose as he got up.

Jack didn’t miss a beat though. “…I need you in on this. Where is your head?”

“On my pillow.” Will snapped back, trying to rub the last of sleep from out his eyes. “Like most other people, I was asleep….for once.”

“Well, I got just the thing to wake you up. I’m going to need you to prepare yourself for this, Will. It’s soup in there.” Jack warned, like it was really necessary. Will wasn’t ever brought in to look at and decipher pleasant things rainbows or kittens. No, he made witness to acts of Cain being led in one hand with the Devil while the other broke Abel bloody over and over again. The warning was all the babying he was going to get from Jack though, Will having not been out in the field for a while, not since the discovery of his gender. Even with Hannibal’s backing, paperwork had taken a while to get pushed through the FBI’s higher ups, probably due to the Alpha‘s terms which would allow Hannibal to retain total control over the empathic Omega. The FBI didn’t like dealing with freaks of nature, much less freelance consultants outside of their influence or jurisdiction.

Of course, that was until Jack had made a huge mistake in regard to the Chesapeake Ripper by trying to use the curious case of Abel Gideon to his advantage. In partnership with Freddie Lounds and TattleCrime.com, Jack had attempted to flush out the infamous serial killer by confirming the tabloid journalist‘s originally unconfirmed story that Gideon was the Chesapeake Ripper, thus giving all the credit for those kills to a rather confused man. Gideon was seven shades of crazy and intelligent to boot, but he was nowhere on the Ripper‘s level. To say the venture had gone poorly was a grave understatement, the Ripper basically slapping Jack in the face with Miriam Lass’s arm, and only her arm.

Two years ago, the missing young trainee had been working on a possible lead for Jack at the time of her disappearance, one that brought her too close to the Ripper‘s identity it was theorized. Obviously, the Ripper had not taken the Jack’s slight well, but was not so fool hardy enough in his anger to reveal himself. After receiving a series of phone call from Miriam crying and begging for help, Jack had found her. More accurately, the Ripper had let him find what was left of her.

God, Will hated being right sometimes. He had predicted this kind of a reaction. You couldn’t keep poking at crazy, and not expect something crazy to poke back. It didn’t come as any surprise that the FBI didn’t like being publicly embarrassed by a celebrity serial killer they couldn’t seem to catch. Will’s paperwork had flown through the bureaucracy machine with stamps of approval in triplicate to get the uniquely gifted Omega back into the field, under all of Hannibal’s terms of course. The Alpha had the final say in every increment of Will’s participation and whereabouts, meaning Will couldn’t be on a case if he didn’t wish it for any reason, his dedicated shark lawyer making sure of that in triplicate as well. It was something that Jack was very unhappy about, but when he complained, the FBI told the Alpha to suck it up and fight nice with Hannibal. On his part, Will wasn’t sure how he felt about any of it, Jack’s presumptuous nature or Hannibal’s tactical possessiveness.

“Soup isn’t good for the soul?” Will mused aloud when he realized that he had zoned out on Jack who was still impatiently waiting for a response, the Alpha all but growling into the phone.

“Not this kind.” Jack hung up, a text from the agent popping up with an address. At least it was in the same state as him for once, Will throwing the phone over his shoulder, wondering how far a drive it would be and if he could sleep in a bit longer. It wasn’t like the corpse needed to take a break from being dead.

Emerging from the bathroom fully dressed and looking immaculately ready to take on the day, Hannibal was already up and out of bed ever since Will had taken the phone from him. Still in his grey boxers and t-shirt because he thought Hannibal’s version of night clothing was excessive, Will hated Alpha just a little bit for it. No one should be that put together at a moment’s notice. Even worse, Hannibal was already setting out clothes for him as well. In retaliation, Will fell back into bed, pulling the covers over him as he curled up tight as a pill bug around Hannibal‘s pillow. The musky scents of vanilla soaked cinnamon and ginger clung to its surface, making Will relax a touch more than he was comfortable with.

“It’s too chilly outside to wear the sheets. That and I don’t think Jack would appreciate it.” Hannibal told the lump in the middle of the mattress, the Alpha leaning over it to retrieve the phone from where it had been thrown before it was forgotten or lost behind the bed frame which would have been annoying. Hannibal’s bed was solidly built from mahogany, and was quite heavy and too low to crawl under. It would be easier to buy a new phone than try to move the bed retrieving one.

“He’ll only come pick you up if he is not on his way here already.” Hannibal pointed out when there was no movement or response, the top of a dark curly head the only thing visible. The Alpha stirred his long fingers through those mess of curls, running his fingertips down a sensitive scalp to have Will press into the touch with a noticeable shiver. The small reaction was enough to make Hannibal wish they had more time, but the clock was ticking down for them. Hannibal knew Jack was already on his way, his stubborn nature allowing no other course of action. As alluring as staying in bed to follow these intimate feelings might be, Hannibal wanted to make sure Will ate some breakfast before they left. The potential for today promised to be long.

“You’re hateful.” Will muttered, extricating himself from the alluring warmth of slept in bedding at a crawl. Pulled out of bed to help extradite the process, Will’s clothing was placed in his arms, Hannibal lightly shoving the Omega in the direction of the bathroom.

“I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you are done.” Hannibal told Will in parting, pressing his freshly shaved cheek to Will‘s stubbly one. In a way, it was their version of a good morning kiss. It was casual enough not to intimidate Will, but an intimate enough gesture of claiming to appeal to Hannibal’s Alpha nature.

“We could just grab something quick on the way. I’m willing to bet that you’ve never had a McMuffin.” Will said, just wanting see what would happen as he rubbed his hand over the scent marking. The thought of Hannibal in a McDonalds ordering fast food was funny enough to make the Omega chuckle into his palm.

“I have no idea what that is, but I will decline. It sounds lewd.” Hannibal said as Will’s chuckling evolved into full laughter in response, the Omega not even trying to hide his amusement anymore. “What is so funny?”

“I’ve never heard anyone describe McDonalds as lewd before. It’s like calling a turkey sandwich a harlot.” Will laughed, shaking his head at Hannibal who managed to looked regal and bemused all at the same time.

“Please get ready before Jack tries to break down our front door.”

oOo

The front door was still intact but not for lack of trying on Jack’s part. Pounding on the entryway like it had personally offended him, the agent had turned up just as Will was finishing his second cup of coffee and Hannibal was drying off the last of the cookware. As predicted by Hannibal much to Will’s grim amusement, Jack insisted on driving them both to the scene himself instead of the pair just following or meeting him there. Both knew that Jack needed to be in control on some level. To general surprise, Hannibal allowed it with little fuss, but made Will sit in the back of the cavernous black SUV with him. This was all about testing boundaries and establishing dominance in a work relation after all.

In actuality, Hannibal didn’t mind if Jack drove. The fewer members of law enforcement who could identify his car on sight the better, but Jack didn’t need to know that. Making Will sit in the backseat with him served a dual purpose as well. It was a blatant reminder for Jack that Hannibal owned Will, that was empath’s was his and his alone, Will‘s presence here a gift he could take away any time he liked. It also forced Jack to address them both about the case by denying Jack the opportunity to keep Hannibal out of the loop by muttering details to Will who looked half asleep again despite all the coffee. Hannibal gently nudged the Omega awake when Jack started talking.

“Victim was found in a hotel bathtub. There were abdominal mutilations and organ removal at the scene.” Jack called over his shoulder, angry but resolute. He was going to make this work. He had too much riding on the line to have it screwed up by an overprotective Alpha. “Sounds like our guy.”

“Sounds more like an urban legend than the Chesapeake Ripper, Jack.” Will stretched in place, attempting to stay awake as he rubbed the back of his neck. It didn’t help he equated Hannibal’s body heat to rest though he wasn’t about to move up to the cold leather of the front seat either. Even if he wanted to, Hannibal’s firm grip on the top of his thigh was a big enough hint to him that the Alpha would have an issue with it. “It’s coming off as a little hammy, don’t you think?”

“Why do you say that?” Hannibal asked, keeping his voice low enough so that only Will could really hear him. It certainly wasn’t one of his kills, but Will already sounded like he thought that as well without even seeing the killing ground yet.

“The Ripper wants a stage for his art. A hotel bathroom as the framework for one of his masterpieces would be too tasteless. He trying to make a point, say something profound even, not create a cliché. The Ripper would consider mimicking an urban legend gauche.” Will explained, shaking his head at the very idea of it. “The thing you have to remember first and foremost about the Chesapeake Ripper is that he is and has always been an artist. He loves beautiful things. It’s just that his idea of what is beautiful is completely different from anyone else’s.”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but without that point of view to sustain it, beauty is just another word. It is the certainty of the spelling that confuses people.” Hannibal mused, enjoying the unintended compliments. Will had no idea how parallel in thinking he was to Hannibal. He just needed a little, well timed nudge in the right direction so that their paths intercepted.

There were already pathways beginning to form in that regard, the beginnings of their Bond shifting and shimmering spun into place by Fate’s spiders. Confident that Will was not just his mate but his soul mate, Hannibal could already feel what lay between them, plucking at the newly formed strands of it like an musician trying out a new instrument. Sometimes it was plucked back, reminding Hannibal that this was a duet, not the solo he was used to living.

“Esoterically speaking, yes, I guess.” Will shrugged. That kind of thinking was a little too much to take in first thing in the morning. He had enough on and in his mind to worry about without adding something abstruse to the mix. There was something larger than himself shifting around in the back, not being very quiet about it either.

“I’ve had the room sealed. You’ll get it fresh.” Jack said, glaring at Hannibal in the mirror. The person of his ire amused himself by ignoring Jack, settling in closer to a drowsy Will who looked like he doing his damnedest to fall back asleep. “My people will make sure of that. Looks like you’ll be meeting some of the team today.

“Fresh? Fresh as a daisy?” Will mumbled, a small sad smile playing out on his lips. Why couldn’t other people get him nice, normal things? Some people got coffee and donuts from their coworkers. In his line of work, Will got uncontaminated crime scenes. He ignored the threat of social interaction, not deigning to comment on it. Jack should really know better by now if he was excepting any enthusiasm about meeting strangers from Will.

“Fresh enough for you to tell me whether or not it’s the Ripper.” Jack said, gripping the steering wheel hard. It had been bad the last few couple of weeks what with him having to discover about his wife’s cancer all on his own. Even worse, his Bella hadn’t been planning on telling him about the disease eating away at her until it was obvious she couldn’t physically hide the secret any longer. Jack had only figured it out because of their soul bond. Even though Bella still looked and acted healthy, Jack could feel her slowly dying in inches as the cancer grew larger inside her lungs, their bond painfully waning along with her ability to keep breathing.

All this while happening in the middle of the Gideon debacle and the horrible phone calls from Miriam Lass, the ones where the young woman was pleading for her life and begging for help from Jack by name. Professionally speaking, Jack didn’t know what was worse. That he had failed to catch the Ripper, that Miriam Lass was another confirmed victim of the Ripper‘s, or that the Ripper had tricked him into a false sense of hope by making him think that Miriam was still alive.

Personally speaking, his relationship with Bella was a mess, his mate choosing to spend what little time she had left at work instead of with him, and the worst part was that he couldn’t really blame her. If he was facing a similar situation, Jack knew he would do the exact same damn thing. He won’t want his Bella’s last memories of them together be of him dying either. What he resented most about the entire situation was that Bella felt like she couldn’t talk about it with him. Even worse, it felt like she was the one protecting him instead of the other way around, severing their bond link by link, a little bit at a time. Unlike regular Bonding, it was common knowledge with Soul Bonds that when one’s soul mate died, the other was soon to follow, either by fate, nature, or by their own hand. What Bella was silently doing equated to her gnawing off Jack’s arm so at least one of them could escape the trap they were caught in. Jack’s opinion flip flopped on a daily basis if it was incredibly brave or incredibly selfish on her part.

All Jack was certain of in life now was that he had to catch the Chesapeake Ripper so that all of this had some sort of meaning or reason for being so terrible and unfair. “I need you to tell me if it’s the Ripper, Will. Then you can go back to class.” Jack told the Omega who snorted in answer.

“You don’t want me in a classroom. You never did.” Will pointed out. Like Chilton, Jack had always hovered on the edge of Will‘s peripheral, wanting something from him. In the end, Jack had won out because he had the moral high ground, basically emotionally blackmailing Will into working for him. By working for Jack, Will was saving lives, and that felt good…..generally speaking. “You want me to wrap my head so tight around the Ripper I won’t go back to class until he’s caught.” On the plus side, if this case ran on and they needed his expertise, Will wouldn’t have to grade any midterm papers. Not many people could say that a dead body came with any silver linings.

“Your bad luck that you’re the best, pal.” Jack said as he shifted in his seat. He didn’t like having his back to another Alpha. It was an instinctual thing of course, but there were other alarms bells going off in his head for some reason, though he couldn’t fathom why. Remembering that Hannibal was a pure Alpha with a higher social standing than his own let Jack explain it away for now.

If he wanted Will, Jack knew he had to learn to work with or around Hannibal. Most other Alphas would have never let Will out of the bedroom, must less out the front door. It was a stroke of pure luck that Hannibal was so tolerant. A gentleman and a professional practically to a fault, the only thing the doctor had been aggressive about was protecting his mate. As difficult as he found the other Alpha, Jack could hardly fault Hannibal for that. He would have done the same for his Bella in a similar sort of situation if she were born an Omega instead of an Alpha.

“Are you expecting another couple of bodies after this one?” Will asked, trying to pinpoint Jack’s mindset. It wasn’t going to do anyone any good if the lead agent on this had his own agenda.

“If it’s the Ripper, yes, I am.” Jack nodded, confirming what Will was dreading.

Will leaned forward in his seat as if to drive the significance of his next point home. “Don’t let the Ripper stir you up.” Will told the agent firmly. He thought Jack needed to step back and see the big picture here before another piece of trainee was left lying around for them to find. “The reason he left you Miriam Lass’s arm is so he could poke you with it. This is a game to him and right now, he‘s winning it”

“Then why not the rest of her?” Jack snapped back, his temper finally getting the better of him. Not even a whole body, just the poor girl’s arm. It meant the Ripper had held onto her corpse or a piece of it for two damn years for whatever reason. Any hope that she could still be alive was crushed when the autopsy report had came in. The limb had been amputated post mortem.

“I apologize for interrupting but who is Miriam Lass?” Hannibal smoothly broke the flow of conversation by feigning ignorance. Getting to witness Jack’s humiliation first hand was just too good an opportunity to pass up by keeping quiet.

“A trainee who up till recently was thought of to be missing. She was confirmed dead and made the Ripper’s last known victim after Jack received a series of phone calls from her. They were a recording of course, the Ripper’s way of taunting the FBI while humiliating Jack.” Will explained though it was unnecessary considering his audience. Hannibal enjoyed the reiteration though, hearing a different perspective of what he had done to Jack and enjoying the show of the other Alpha trying to stay calm.

“I’ve never read anything about the Ripper making contact.” Hannibal fed fuel to the fire, curious to see who would answer him first.

“We kept that out of the news. Thankfully, nothing leaked out to Freddie Lounds.” Jack got there first, his clove and sage scent smelling burnt and acidic from new and old anger.

“Yes, thank God for small favors especially after you got into bed with her for that story.” Will’s lips curled in disgust at the very thought of the tabloid report, before turning his attention back to Hannibal. “Contact is atypical of his MO. It was more in response to being pushed. I doubt it will ever happen again. The Ripper is too careful to risk that sort of exposure.”

“Pushed?” Hannibal pressed the topic further still, his mouth beginning to water for it. Jack‘s rage, embarrassment, and discomfort were tangible things to Hannibal, his sensitive nose scenting all those wonderful emotions coming off of the other Alpha in waves.

“I’m sure you have read, or at least heard about, the article Lounds wrote about Gideon.” Will sighed, shifting closer to Hannibal. Jack would have to go take a walk and cool off before they hit the scene. Aggression in small spaces with other Alphas was never a good thing for anyone.

“I vaguely remember running across it, yes.” Hannibal said lightly enough. He had memorized in precise detail everything about that day while reading that insulting piece of literature that had stolen his identity and gifted it to the undeserving fool Gideon. The man had all the artistic ability of a monkey throwing it own fecal matter against a wall.

“Jack thought by confirming the story, the Ripper might become angry enough to reveal himself.” Will shook his head. Why did no one ever listen to him?

“Did it work?” Hannibal poked the bear in the car, the one who was glaring daggers at him in mirrors. He did his best not to smile back.

“About as well as I predicted. We got Lass’s arm and her ghost making phone calls as an answer.” Will shrugged. “Not much else besides that though.”

“But why just her arm?!” Jack growled, gripping the steering wheel tight enough to make it creak under the pressure.

“The other victims the Ripper wanted to humiliate in death, like a public shaming. She was different.” Will was beginning to feel like he was talking in circles. He had already explained this many, many times before. At least it looked like Hannibal was paying attention, the doctor’s focus on him rapt.

“He was probably impressed that she was able to find him.” Jack muttered, wishing to any and every god that Miriam had thought to leave behind some kind of note or hint to what jump in logic she had made with the evidence. As of yet, nothing had turned up though. Jack had personally gone through every piece of paper that Miriam Lass owned, may have come in contact with, or looked sideways at in passing.

“What a shame. It sounds like she was a brave young woman.” Hannibal said in all honesty. It had been impressive that Miriam had been able to find him through her cleverness and keen eye for detail. Her lead had been so small and fragile up until it was confirmed by his drawing of the Wound Man left carelessly out on a table. The trainee recognized it for what it was, but by then, it was already way too late for her. Finely tuned survival instinct kicking in, Hannibal had planned to kill Miriam the moment she mentioned the hunter by name, her death an assured thing even before they had finished their conversation.

“He may be starting a new cycle, Will.” Jack said low and intense as if willing it to be true.

“The Ripper contacted you directly. If he was killing again, he wouldn’t be subtle about it. He would just pick up the phone.” Will shook his head in frustration. Jack wasn’t listening to him, not really. “Any more phone calls Jack?”

“No.” Jack answered tersely. “Look if this is the Ripper, there’ll be at least two more bodies and then nothing for months, maybe a year. We’ll have a window of opportunity to catch him and then that window will close. The last time it closed, I lost the Ripper and I lost Miriam Lass. I don’t intend to do that again.”

“Be careful that you don’t set yourself up for disappointment, Agent Crawford. Things are not always what they appear to be at first glance.” Hannibal soothed even as he taunted, receiving a hard look from the mirror in answer.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Doctor Lecter.”

OOo

Hannibal looked around the hotel room with cool interest. It was the first time he had been invited to a crime scene, even if it was under protest. It was an unique experience considering it wasn’t one of his own making. He usually missed what happened afterward. An absent player who never got to witness his audience’s reactions after staging his performance pieces, their reactions to it, or how police, medical personal, and investigators swarmed over everything like ants picking apart a dead bird piece by piece. How there were small crowds of onlookers pressed up against the yellow tape with reporters, journalists, and bloggers mixed in among the mindless ramble that just wanted to be entertained by a loss of life. Since the beginning, death has always gotten the best bookings for shows. Anyone who said otherwise was a fool or just wasn’t looking hard enough to see the bone figure behind the curtain, pulling levers and strings alike with skeletal fingers.

An uncharacteristic twinge of nausea in his gut made Hannibal look over at Will, the Alpha realizing the source of the discomfort coming from him. Hiding behind the thick glasses he had slipped on upon exiting the vehicle, Will seemed more content to stare off into space, keeping a careful distance physically and mentally between himself and other people as his insides and mind rolled with discomfort.

Once they got past the yellow and black tape, there were only a couple of techs and plainclothes people in the room itself besides themselves, busy placing numbered markers around blood sprays that went all the way from the hotel’s suite to the bathroom, taking pictures, and jotting down notes to really notice them. In Hannibal’s profession opinion and from personal experience, the scene suggested a severe violent emergence from deep sedation.

The pressing scents of agitated Alphas wasn’t doing anything to calm Will down either, too many of the same gender in his near vicinity. Will still equated Alphas to pain and violent endings, that much was clear though it seemed to appear he at least accepted Hannibal as the exception to this, the Omega pressing close enough to him their shoulders kept bumping. Not that Hannibal minded, the Alpha part of him grinning lupine wide with each small victory he claimed over Will.

Hannibal wondered if the Omega knew how often he touched his collar, today’s selection strips of multicolored blue silk woven wide and complicated. The band was attached to an ornate lock carved from white jade in the shape of a kirin. Now that he was outed and was made to wear a collar in public, Will felt exposed and vulnerable, the collar becoming a touchstone of sorts for him as if to remind himself and any other Alphas in the area that he belonged to another. That he was protected or at least he hoped he was, though doubt walked hand in hand with his trepidation. That was what Hannibal realized he was feeling, Will’s fear, as least an aspect of it. Hannibal didn’t like the uncertainty of it or its presence, the concept a foreign thing to him.

Placing his hand on Will’s shoulder, Hannibal exerted some of his own control, sending calm back through their link. If he was getting feedback from Will unintentionally, it would stand to reason that he could do the same with direct intention. The effect was instant, Will breathing in deeply like he had been holding his breath for too long as some color returned to his skin, the finer shaking in his hands easing up. Will looked over at Hannibal in surprise, but was interrupted before he could say anything.

“Has anyone touched the body?” Jack bellowed, some of the newer personal jumping at the sudden rise in volume, not used to working with the agent with the booming voice.

“For once, local police behaved themselves.” a tall dark haired man not in uniform but wearing an FBI ID smirked, his opinion clear about anyone in local law enforcement who was not a tech.

It’s sentiment was echoed by a shorter man also in street wear of a better variety in Hannibal‘s opinion, far less casual, and proper identification, obviously another member of the Jack’s hand picked science team. “It’s fairly evident that the man’s dead just by the look of him.”

“I touched the body. A lot going on with that body.” a young Asian woman in jeans and a leather jacket stated unrepentant in her actions, ignoring Jack’s grumpy look in favor of noticing Will who flinched under the blatantly open consideration from her. “You’re Will Graham.”

The empathic profiler nodded in answer, careful to avoid eye contact with her as he moved to place Hannibal between himself and the tech who was grinning at him like she had just discovered an unexpected prize. Like most other members of law enforcement, she was an Alpha, but Hannibal felt more intrigued than threatened by her. From her scent he could tell that her interest in Will wasn’t sexual in nature. The young woman was throwing off scents of gingersnaps and black tea that Hannibal equated more to excited curiosity than arousal. He allowed her pursuit for now. A little admiration in small doses from another might do Will some good. That or push the Omega closer to him.

“You wrote the standard monograph on time of death by insect activity.” the woman gave chase in the sense she didn’t let Will out of her sight, the two almost completing a full circle around Hannibal before Will made himself stand his ground before things got really ridiculous.

“I’m Beverly Katz.” the female Alpha introduced herself, her eyes darting over Will’s form, taking in all the detail of him as he twitched in response, blue grey eyes darting elsewhere. “You’re not FBI?”

“Strict screening procedures.” Will muttered, the irony not lost on him. It felt childish, but he almost wished Hannibal would intercede. This was why he hated fieldwork. It required him to be sociable.

“Detects instability. You unstable?” Beverly asked, but it didn’t sound like she was being insulting or even considered the possibility a bad one if he were.

“That’s why Omegas shouldn’t be in this line of work. No stomach for it.” the dark haired Alpha male snorted in open disdain of Will’s presence here. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed at him, memorizing his scent of roasted chestnuts and butter caramel, and the information on his identification badge.

“Zeller!” Jack snapped, shooting the tech a glare. The male Alpha raising his hands in mock surrender like he had already proven his point, and there was nothing left to be said.

“There have been multiple studies in the medical field on the matter.” the other member of the science team pointed out. Unlike the majority of his co-workers though, his scent said he was Beta, his scent almost not there at all. Signature trait of his gender, the Beta’s tone of voice neutral in the matter, the man simply stating facts for the sake of it.

“Not helping, Price.” Jack growled. The damage had been done though, discomfort and self loathing from Will darting through the bond like pinpricks all over Hannibal’s skin. It wasn’t painful but it was bothersome. Hannibal made a mental note to research bonding further, and consult some of his colleagues on the matter as well. Will would have to learn some control before they committed themselves fully to the endeavor of soul bond. Until then, certain boundaries had to be set, Hannibal placing his palm on the back of Will’s neck as he exerted some controlled power on his part, making everyone step away from them with a gasp as he gained all their attention at once.

“The majority of those studies are meaningless, having been proven to be biased and more often than naught, inconclusive. The truth of the matter is that it is society that places limits an Omega’s capabilities, not the gender’s own biology. In this modern age of medical advancement and the invention of heat suppressants and birth control to lessen or even eliminate the state of Heat and gestation, there are no physical limitations between any of the genders.” Hannibal said, letting his power as an Alpha, one born pure, pour into his words.

From Hannibal’s tone of voice, the way that it carried and made everyone pause in what they were doing to listen, Will would have thought they were in a lecture hall rather than a ruined hotel room. “Though Omegas are not drawn to conflict and have a tendency to avoid acts of violence, they have shown a distinct aptitude for clear thinking and undivided focus in stressful situations.” Hannibal finished, letting go of Will’s nape, the message of ownership clear to all now. Now that he had established himself as a lion in the room, Hannibal pulled his power back in to see what kind of result it would yield.

“That may be, but he’s a liability even being here. I bet he’s never even fired that gun.” Zeller shot back from a safe distance, obviously not happy about Hannibal‘s presence here. As an Alpha, he was the equivalent of a Jack Russell terrier stuck in the same room with a mastiff and a wolf. “Like you said, avoids acts of violence.”

“I used to be in law enforcement.” Will snapped, though the truth still hurt. When he was a cop, Will had let himself get stabbed instead of taking another person’s life, even in self defense.

“Did you ever pull the trigger?” Zeller countered with a smirk, striking too close to the heart of the matter. As Hannibal began to wonder how the man would pair with a port wine reduction sauce, the Alpha became distracted by a surplus of emotion that were not his own. It was an ocean whose peaking waves were diving and rolling against the high walls of his memory palace. Like any act of nature though, the attack on his kingdom was not deliberate, just more of their bond coming into play. Stress seemed to be evolving it.

“Enough! I don’t give a damn if you want Graham here or not! I want him here! This is not up for debate.” Jack yelled, his own powers snapping out to make everyone, except for Will and Hannibal, step back from the angered Alpha. Perhaps as a defense mechanism or simply being used to Jack‘s flairs in temper, Hannibal noticed Will lose interest in the living entirely, the Omega wandering over to the nonjudgmental dead. The current corpse was sitting in the bathtub, doing a good job at looking very dead.

“Someone tell me about the body.” Jack ordered, reeling his power back in now that he had everyone’s attention and varying shades of obedience.

“Like I said, a lot going on with that body.” Beverly told him first, recovering nicely from the smack down. She struck Hannibal as being resiliently flexible, choosing to bend like a reed in the wind instead of letting it break her by being rigidly stubborn. “Surgery was performed and then unperformed.”

“Surgery was unperformed with bare hands, sutures clawed apart.” Zeller added, mimicking the clawing action with his own hands before realizing what he had just admitted to. “I also did a little bit of touching.” he said in defense, looking sheepish as Jack leveled a glare at him.

“Pieces of him were torn off from the bed to the bathroom like breadcrumbs.” Price picked up the line of conversation easily enough, the Beta not caring either way. He had a job to do and that was all he really cared about. Betas were often unmoved by the wills and whims of Alphas or Omegas. Price found Jack’s outbursts more amusing than threatening, the Beta often entertaining himself by imagining the Alphas and Omegas around him having tails and dog or cat ears with all the reactions that came with the furry appendages. It was a little harder to envision with Hannibal, but Price managed it.

Will drew closer to the man sitting in the tub, Hannibal noting that the Omega’s fear was leaving him in rush to be replaced with a cool calm that was eerily like his own, but feeling somewhat more alive like the chilled air of Spring that held the potential for warmth and the stirring of life later on.

“Surgery wasn’t performed here. There’d be a lot more blood.” Will stated without a doubt in his voice, the man slipping seamlessly into his role, from nervous Omega to crime scene profiler. He chose to sit on the lip of the tub, unbothered by his still company as the other’s pulled back to the door, sensing a change in the air around them. The small space hummed with a power that made the hairs on the back of Hannibal’s neck stand on end, the Omega gaining focus.

“If he’s moving his victims, he could be performing the mutilations in the same transport. Find the car. Find the killer.” Beverly said with a nod as she reasoned it out for them aloud.

“Amateur mistake.” Hannibal thought to himself in passing, more interested in Will than the techs. That was why he performed onsite. A body was hard enough to transport on its own. Why compound that problem by making a mess out of your car? The Bentley was only used to move his clay of meat while they were drugged and/or unconscious from point A to point B, and was always then meticulously cleaned afterward.

“He tore open his own sutures.” Will gazed down at the dead man, absorbing in all the details of his demise.

“It wasn’t to get to his kidney. The Ripper already took it with him.” Beverly informed him, watching Will with open interest.

“What did he take out of the chest?” Jack asked, following Will‘s narrow gaze, trying to see what empath was gathering up in his own head.

“That sort of incision is made in limited access heart surgery.” Hannibal observed, and done rather sloppily in his opinion. He looked up to see all the techs and Jack staring at him like he had cut the corpse open himself. “In another life, I was a surgeon before I became a psychiatrist.”

“He’s right. Killer was going for the heart. Probably interrupted. It’s intact.” Zeller offered up in confirmation. “Traumatized but intact.”

Hannibal watched as Will took off his glasses, putting them into his coat pockets as he titled his head in a peculiar way. Jack must have recognized the look as well.

“Everybody out!” Jack yelled, glaring back at Hannibal from the bathroom door. The agent closed it when it became obvious that Hannibal had no intention of leaving, but not before the two Alphas stared each other down. Jack broke it off when he felt Hannibal’s greater power start to nip at him in warning. Hannibal allowed himself a smile of all bared teeth at the agent’s back, turning his full attention back to Will soon enough, the Omega’s eyes closed and completely oblivious to the world of the living.

Abandoning normal means of communication to follow sensations that had been begging for his attention since their arrival, Hannibal turned inward and found that Will’s thinking lay with the dead. There was tug through upon those delicate bonds of spun starlight that lay between them like quicksilver spider webbing.

Closing his own eyes, Hannibal entered his mind palace to find new paths there waiting for him, ones not of his own making. Oddly enough, he was joined by a strange creature who gazed down at him with large, darkly fathomless eyes. Moving closer to get a better view of it, Hannibal thought it looked like a stag whose pelt had dark raven’s feathers mixed in with its thick fur, its antlers impressive in size and made of black bone covered in drying blood. A predator in hiding mimicking prey, the creature regarded him coolly, but made no move to attack him, choosing instead to stalk off down one of the new paths provided for them.

Curious at this strange development, Hannibal chose to follow it. His mind palace was supposed to be a place of his own construction, its foundations raised by and for his memories alone. The idea behind it was called ‘the Method of Ioci’, the method of thought retrieval finding its origin in ancient Roman and Greek rhetorical treatises. Hannibal had taken the concept above and beyond just memory enhancement, refining the process to make it a physical place in the safety of his own mind. Its black marble walls were high and impenetrable, its rooms and gardens infinite, and its storage capacity limitless. Up till now though, Hannibal had been its only occupant.

Peculiar, twisting paths of hard packed earth led into wild woods that now bordered his palace on one side while on the other, a vast ocean lay out as far as his mind’s eyes could see. Their existence told Hannibal that the bond may start allowing him some company soon enough. Streaming light that connected to his towers and spires like strange banners made of caught comets foretold of other conduits and connections there as well.

The stag’s pacing was brisk, Hannibal having to walk quickly to keep up, but he could tell that the animal wasn’t trying to lose him. It was simply impatient, the stag every once in while turning its heavy head to huff mists of white air at him. It seemed the ravenstag held winter within itself, frost growing underneath its cloven hoofs and flakes of snow clinging to its furred plumage.

The woods gave way soon enough to scrub fields and then Hannibal found himself stepping back into the hotel room like he had never left it. It was clean now though, its carpets and walls unstained by human paint thrown carelessly about. There were no markers or other people here as well. There was no signs that anything was amiss except for the ravenstag breathing out icy clouds that dissolved in the air. Looking back at Hannibal one last time, the creature strode into the bathroom to disappear from existence like it had never been. Hannibal went after it to be brought up short by the corpse from earlier who was now very much alive, bleeding out that bright life through a poorly sutured cut in his side. Obviously confused but very much alive, at least for now.

That was when Hannibal saw Will standing there beside him. The dying man must have seen Will too because he reacted violently enough to his presence, attacking the Omega, except it wasn’t Will. The body language was all wrong, enough so it gave Hannibal reason to pause though his Alpha instincts were screaming at him to attack this man who had dared to threaten his mate.

Rationality was the keystone to Hannibal’s thinking though, the Alpha ignoring his more primitive mindset to evaluate the situation. It was like someone else was wearing a Will suit. It was then that Hannibal realized that he was in empath’s own version of a mind palace with Will as the killer in it. He also couldn’t seem to see Hannibal, but in all fairness, he did have other people on and in his mind as Will grappled with the man, the two heading toward the bathroom where this little drama would soon meet its end.

The man hit a tile wall, too hard, causing his heart to seize, Hannibal recognizing the onset of cardiac arrest. Apparently the killer did as well, producing a scalpel as he laid the man back into bathtub as gently as he could, though gravity did most of the work for him.

Transcendental was the word that came to Hannibal’s mind as he watched Will cut into the man without hesitation to spread his ribs apart with a moist cracking sound, blood coating his skin up to his wrists. Will’s hands dug into the dying man to take his heart into his palms, and Hannibal’s mind sang arias in answer to the vision. It was perfection, Will’s face splashed with another’s crimson, his blue eye wide and almost feral. He had never looked more beautiful to Hannibal, who memorized every detail of the image to faithfully reproduce later on with paper and pencil. Will grew still like that, as if he were posing for Hannibal, and then suddenly, it all stopped.

Too abruptly so, Hannibal snapping his head back as the vision ceased to be, the Alpha finding himself back in the real hotel room with Will looking pale and drawn, the Omega shaking beside him.

“Jack?” Will called out, making Hannibal growl softly before he could stop himself. He was still recovering from what had just happened to him and didn’t want another Alpha around him or his mate, especially when Will looked so frail and feverishly pallid.

The Omega glared up at his Alpha but was still too weak to make it really vehement. This was his job and Hannibal would just have to learn how to live with it if he insisted on being here.

“This wasn’t brutal.” Will said softly, still out of breath by the time Jack entered the bathroom. God, he had almost been able to forget how horrible this felt, having another person moving under his skin and in his head. He could hear Jack rejoining them, the Alpha standing close but still keeping a respectable distance from him. That might have had something to do with Hannibal moving to intercede, positioning himself between Jack and Will. It was a very unique sensation to feel irritated and grateful all at the same time. “The killer wasn’t killing. He was trying to save a life.”

As far as the recreations went, this one wasn’t so bad when compared to some of the others he‘d had to endure in the past. At least, the guy doing this wasn’t crazy, not really. Just greedy and desperate, something mundane to experience for once, just some stupid person with enough medical knowledge to be dangerous. That aside, the thinking still took it out of him. At least this killer wouldn’t linger in his mind though. Will was thankful for that much.

“The Ripper ever do that?” Will threw the question over his shoulder to the agent to be met with a stormy look from Jack. The man was not going to like what Will had to tell him.

The techs were brought back into the room as well so that Will could tell them the news, Beverly and Price discussing the empath’s assessment of the situation in the background. Zeller stood in the doorway though, confident in his opinion. “It’s the Chesapeake Ripper.” he stated without a doubt.

“It’s not the Ripper.” Will sighed, ignoring the power trying to play over him. It didn’t….couldn’t compel him to submit. The only effect it had was making his skin itch in the bad way, and causing Jack and Hannibal to glare at the lesser Alpha who cringed in response but held his ground.

Unlike other Omegas who would fold like a puppet whose strings was cut under the influence of an Alpha, the dominant gender generally didn’t have any effect on Will, with the exception of the one beside him. It probably had something to do with Hannibal and him being pure. Will reminded himself that he really needed to do some research on the matter, especially now that there was something permanent beginning to form between them. Sitting hunched over on the toilet, Will leaned into the Alpha standing beside him, Hannibal quietly offering his support. It was a strange, but nice thing to experience, the touch of Hannibal‘s skin on his own grounding Will.

“There are too many similarities.” Zeller huffed, keeping with his assessment like a dog to a bone.

“There aren’t enough.” Will shook his head, sounding put out even to himself. He was so fucking tired, a headache pinging around inside his skull like a fireworks display of hurting.

Pain was a unique thing to experience, especially when it was someone else’s, Hannibal examining the threads that were like vibrating strands of crimson, the silver steadily leaching out of them. Curious, Hannibal plucked the bled strands to have them sing like broken crystal bells, sweetly off key and shrill with distress.

“Knife wound cuts, not stabs, anatomical knowledge, dissection skills, mutilation, organ removal, victim clothed, on display.” Zeller listed off effortlessly, taking Will’s words as a challenge. “We got 22 signature components, all attributed to the same killer.”

Will remained looking unimpressed by the assessment. “22 possible signature components.” he said steadily, making Zeller stare at him. In dark amusement, Will surmised the Alpha was wondering why he as an Omega wasn’t a sniveling mess on the floor at the moment.

The two men were arguing with each other at Jack’s back, the agent staring down at the corpse like it was going to sit up and tell him everything that he wanted to know. Hannibal kept himself at Will’s side, the Omega leaning into his mate to keep the Alpha in place. As per usual, Hannibal’s face was giving nothing away to his thinking, but Will was getting a feeling of unease from the man’s quiet attention to the interaction.

“It the Ripper!” Zeller snapped, his tone one of finality as he gave another push with his power to try and get his point across. In response, Will rose up to close the door in Zeller’s face, the Alpha gaping at him in shock. Satisfied, Will retook his makeshift seat, looking and feeling far calmer now. That and he noticed Hannibal smiling, the Alpha moving to the door to ensure it was stayed closed.

“It’s not the Ripper, Jack.” Will said again, carefully watching the other Alpha. “I’m sorry, but it’s not.”

“Are you sure?” Jack asked, the words sounding dragged out of him, the man’s voice heavy with disappointment.

“More or less.” Will sighed, leaning against a tiled wall to help hold himself up. He felt frigid without Hannibal beside him.

“Tell me why you’re sure.” Jack needed more, always needed more. He couldn’t take things at face value, couldn’t afford to with this killer.

“The Ripper left a victim in a church pew, using his tongue as a page marker in the bible he was holding.” Will said with great deliberation. Hannibal thought it was on excellent example, and would have applauded if he could have. It had been one of his cleverer kills. “This isn’t it.”

“As you have said before, he wishes to perform, to give his audience a point of view.” Hannibal couldn’t resist. “He is a killer with purpose and agenda.”

“An askewed view, but yes.” Will nodded at his mate who looked very pleased about something. He could tell here and there. It was something in those unique blank eyes, something too calm, too at ease. If you knew where and when to look for it, Will could also pick up a faint glint of mirth in those strange sanguine eyes, though he failed to see what was so damn amusing about this situation. “This is a medical student or a trainee or someone trying to make an extra buck in a back alley surgery and it went bad. Actively bad.”

Taking in the empath’s words, Jack looked crushed with anger and frustration. It was obvious he had wanted so badly for this to be the Ripper. Hannibal wanted to dress himself in the agent’s anger and despair, just so that he could admire them anytime he wanted.

“You’ll catch the Ripper.” Will said softly. It wasn’t much of a condolence, but he was doing the best he could. “Eventually.”

“Yeah, well I want to catch him now.” Jack growled, his voice thick with emotion. A vulgar display of it in Hannibal’s opinion. The other Alpha gave too much of himself away. Hannibal now knew exactly what buttons to push and even what sequenced to push them in to set Jack off in any manner he desired. If Hannibal wanted to, he could have the man fired by the end of the day on improper conduct alone.

“When I do, they’re not going to get the chance to take him in.” Jack stated, promises and good intentions gone bad carved into his dark expression.

“You can’t just jack up the law and get under it.” Will intervened on the Alpha’s behalf. It was sad when he had to be other people’s moral compass.

“Can’t I?” Jack said, looking a touch feral. He had the bearing of a man willing to make sacrifices, even if it were other people.

“The pressure of responsibilities can muddy one’s own powers of perception.” Hannibal said in voice that sounded made to deal with people on the edge of breaking. Will realized that it was probably was.

“I’ve already had my psych eval.” Jack glared at the other Alpha.

“Not by me.” Hannibal said lightly enough to make Jack put some effort into calming down. The well respected psychiatrist’s words carried a great deal of weight. He couldn’t afford to be taken off the Ripper case because Hannibal whispered a few of tainted observations into the right ears.

Turning back to Will for some sort of focus, Jack leveled a look at the Omega. “Tell me why this isn’t him. Tell me how you see the Ripper. Not the murderer.” Jack asked. “The man.”

With his eyes closed and his breathing shallow, Will took so long to answer Hannibal wondered if he had perhaps fallen asleep standing up. He looked tired enough to do so, felt it as well. Will’s weariness went beyond just his body, Hannibal feeling within himself that it ran soul deep. The lines that lay between them were open, Hannibal falling back into his own head to find himself again on those strange paths of wild earth that led off into the darker forests of Will’s mindscape. While Hannibal’s head was organized and his mind palace refined, Will’s headspace was the organized chaos of nature, planning out in it own way by the elements that shaped it.

Mists poured in from the dark sea to cover this brave new land in the thick blanket of white, one that surrounded Hannibal’s mind palace so that it looked like it had been built on clouds into of solid ground. Thick and muted as cotton, the mist pressed itself to Hannibal who found he stood at a crossroads of sorts. The Alpha waited for it to clear a bit before he proceeded. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if he got lost.

Soft solidarity parting for it, the stag was back as if called, like it had been waiting for him all this time, the animal nosing at Hannibal before turning down one of the roads, the mist falling back for the beast. Faced standing in a white void by himself and not wishing to waste time, Hannibal followed his strange guide to find himself entering a gallery of sorts. To his surprise, it was one of his own making in a way, each and every highlighted display with its own little information card out front detailed one of his kills. At least the ones the FBI knew about, the one he had let them find. Only special rude were publicly shamed. Other people were simply just meat and not worth the effort, left or buried in unmarked places where no one would ever find them.

In the middle of it all stood Will. Or at least a version of himself, Hannibal comprehended. The Omega in his own mind was left unguarded, naked and unashamed about it. Of course, Hannibal reflected, Will would strip himself down in the only place he felt safe to do so. That or it was a metaphor of self perception in regard to him wearing other killers. Hannibal wondered which it was.

The stag moved to stand behind Will, the empath more involved with all the displays that lay before him instead of paying any attention to the strange animal at his back, breathing down his neck. A faceless shadow figure was coming to life in front of Will, taking shape and form the longer Will looked at it. Hannibal watched in fascination as Will’s mind tried to created the Chesapeake Killer from nothing. With no physical details and only supposition to go on, the end result was a solidified void figure that Will circled around pacing.

“I see him born….as one wounded….damaged. I see a monster that was made by another‘s hand. I see those hands trying to end him. They tear at him, brutalize him, until he falls. Everyone expects him to die from it.” Will spoke almost in whispers, too busy getting lost in his made company. “But he doesn’t die.”

“I see a monster made from something old and into something new….different….unique. I see a survivor, a hunter, but an outcast as well….”

“So what does he look like to you then?” Hannibal could hear Jack ask Will, though his voice sounded tinny and at a distance, like listening to someone speak through a bad connection.

Hannibal opened his real eyes, extricating himself from that place in Will’s mind before the vision ended again this time, watching as Will reemerged on his own as well, looking none the wiser that he’d had company. The Omega opened his eyes, but still looked lost somewhere else.

“He looks…….”

“Normal.”

oOo

Disgruntled but being quiet about it for once, Jack dropped them off at Hannibal’s Baltimore home, both men lost in their own thoughts as Will followed Hannibal through the house more out of habit than necessity now. Will blinked in surprise when he found they were back in the bedroom. Still a bit shell shocked, the Omega let himself be guided to and sat on the bed, Hannibal taking Will’s shoes and sock off for him.

“What are you doing?” Will asked, feeling vaguely uncomfortable about the Alpha kneeling down in front of him.

“I want you to rest. You are still too pale for my liking. I’m sure Jack has already made arrangements for your classroom.” Hannibal told him, pressing his hand to Will’s shoulder until the Omega laid down. Will went easily enough with the motion which bespoke of just how tired he was.

“I have bad dreams.” Will muttered, committing to the idea as he pulled off the rest of his clothing until he was down to his boxers briefs and tshirt.

“Then I will stay with you until you fall asleep. I don’t have any appointments until later on this afternoon.” Hannibal said, though it was very tempting to cancel on Franklin. Unfortunately, he held himself in accordance to his own 24 hour cancellation policy. He following Will into bed, though he took time and care in removing his suit properly, folding and hanging the clothing so it didn’t crease.

Naked, Hannibal pressed up against Will, knowing that he would be well received. Even if Will wasn’t willing to admit what he needed to himself, Hannibal was more than willing to provide. Through the bond, he could feel Will’s skin hunger under his own skin now, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

“And what if I don’t want to sleep?” the corners of Will’s mouth slightly turned up as he spoke, the empath closing his eyes to better experience the heat of another person seeping in through the thin layer of cotton he wore. A recent momentary lapse in judgment had led to lazy, mind blowing sex and Will’s gateway drug to desire with Hannibal as his pusher. When once all he could think about was trying to get away from the Alpha, all Will wanted to do now was never leave the safety of their bedroom or have the feel of Hannibal’s skin leave his own. Will knew deep down it was his biology working against him. He was just finding it harder to care. Comfort and being cared for was addicting and Will was quickly becoming an addict.

The suits Hannibal predominantly wore, and even his version of casual wear not too removed from this style of clothing, hid a lean compact body that was more dancer or gymnast than the predisposed concept of brute or bodybuilder society seemed to cling to for Alphas. Hannibal was a balanced creature built for speed and strength much like Will was. He was certainly enjoying the exploration of that body, and just how different it was from his own.

“Then I’ll have to think of some way to tire you out.” Hannibal murmured in all seriousness, his accent becoming thicker the lower his voice went. Will’s new acceptance of him in his personal space was a welcome thing, a landmark on the road to his total victory over Will. Soon, Will would see the world as just more than a place to hide from or exist in. Soon, he would take his rightful place beside Hannibal in becoming a master of it. That thought alone was enough to bring him full and ready, Will’s scent helping matters along as his pheromones sweetened and flowered. Hannibal’s large hands slid underneath Will’s tshirt helping the Omega out of it, his underwear soon following the rest of clothing on the floor.

Breath quickening, Will watched as Hannibal touched him skin almost reverently, the Alpha’s caresses light as his hands ran up and down Will’s sides to cross over his front, feeling the meager softness of Omega’s belly, the firmer planes of his chest and followed the muscular curve of his shoulders. Will was reacting to Hannibal as well, his erection at already half mast just from being touched and the scent of his Alpha’s musk intensifying, making Will feel light headed.

“Would you like to take off your collar, Will?” Hannibal offered, his fingers grazing the white jade lock. Will could have easily done it himself when they got home, Hannibal always making it a point to give Will a key to every collar he gifted him with. True proof of ownership was when one gave their intended the means and the chance to their escape, and they chose to stay in the cage by their own free will instead.

“No. You can leave it on. I know you like this one.” Will muttered, looking away. He didn’t consider it as defeat if it were a favor.

“So you wore it for me?” Hannibal smiled slow and thin like a stiletto blade being unsheathed. Feeling suddenly on edge, Will darted forward to bite his chin instead of answering, staying there to nip at Hannibal’s throat. It was an aggressive move to do with an Alpha, especially by an Omega. Curious rather than angered by it though, Hannibal titled his neck back to expose his throat to see what Will would do, the Alpha noting the Omega’s surprise by his quick intake of breath.

Baring one’s throat to another was an act of trust in Alphas, compliance in Betas, and one of total submission in Omegas. An Alpha baring his neck to an Omega was almost unheard of outside of art, literature, and romantic circles of thinking.

The response was immediate and not disappointing, Will biting down at the crook as he took Hannibal by the shoulders to roll them, the Omega straddling his thighs now with his own on either side. The Omega’s teeth were clamped down hard enough to bruise but not break the skin, much to Hannibal’s amused disappointment. Will was starting to take chances, but failed to follow them through to their fullest outcomes. Even now, Will was releasing his hold on Hannibal’s neck to lick at bruised skin. Patiently, Hannibal laid back and let him, leaving it up to Will to make the next move.

With clumsy hands not yet skilled in such carnal acts, Will guided Hannibal’s erection into himself in a great show of impatience, sinking down on the hardened column of flesh until he bottomed out enough to feel the press of the Alpha‘s balls against his ass. Placing his hands on Hannibal’s chest to brace himself, Will shuddered as he kept himself still, too full and still all too new to this. He was slick enough for it without any prep but so tight. The only reason he was not in any real pain was because his body was made of this kind of thing. Rocking more out of instinct than real life application, Will languidly moved, his movements slow and even as he tried to figure out what to do next.

Shifting to accommodate him, but doing nothing to stop Will from exploring these sensations and build upon them, Hannibal placed his hands on Will’s swaying hips to help stabilize the Omega as he rode the Alpha‘s length. Even though his movement was tentative and unsure, Will couldn’t look anything but glorious on top of him. The Omega’s hair was curled soft and dark against his pale skin, his eyes half lidded and darkened a smoky sapphire blue, full of lust and a wanting that made Hannibal hunger for more.

As Will leaned in over him, his intention clear, Hannibal leaned up so that their lips could bump into each other before truly meeting, silken flesh slickly melding into each other as tongues came into play, twisting together. Will tasted in laps while Hannibal devoured in broad strokes that left them gasping for much needed air, their mouths so close to one another they kept exchanging the same air.

“I saw you, you know.” Will breathed out the words, feeling Hannibal move deep inside of him but in an entirely different way. “You were in my head earlier.”

Hannibal smiled, darting forward to steal a kiss this time, proud of his mate. “I was.” He was pleased by this revelation. Admittedly, he would have lost some respect for Will if the empath was so unaware as to not know when someone else was in his own head, besides the usual suspects of course. It was also important to know that their bond wasn’t just one sided, that he would have to take some precautions moving through Will‘s mind.

“Did you see it? Did you see the stag?” Will gasped as he threw his head back, grinding down as Hannibal pushed up, achieving new depth that made Will’s insides roll and the Omega cry out.

“I did. I saw everything.” Hannibal braced himself on his forearm so that he could nip at Will’s skin, reddening the hollow spaces along his collarbones. That admittance caused Will to pause in such a way Hannibal thought the empath was about to pass out for a moment, his eyes were shut so tight and his body taunt as steel wire.

“You saw me kill.” Will’s eyes flew open, his body released from its hold to become dead weight as Will fought to keep himself up and moving.

“I saw you recreate a killer’s thinking. You haven’t killed anyone.” Hannibal said, reaching around to press a hand on the small of Will’s back, the empath’s rhythm flagging in his bewilderment.

“The mirrors in your mind can reflect the best of yourself, not just the worse. You are more than you realize, beloved.” Hannibal said not unkindly. This was an extremely malleable moment to shape Will further into his image, but it needed to be done so with great care and a delicate touch.

“Why do you call me that?” Will asked, ignoring the big picture to pick at one of the minor details.

“It is a very old word. It’s original meaning was ‘to be pleasing’.” Hannibal turned the tables on them by flipping Will onto his back with a shifting in his weight. It was done smoothly enough to not disconnect them, Hannibal sinking in deeper from the new position as he placed Will’s legs over his shoulders, holding them solidly at the thighs. Shoving pillows under the gap of Will’s back and the mattress, Hannibal set a new, vigorous pace, one that had Will reeling from it as all his pleasure buttons were pressed at once. “You are very pleasing to me, my dear William. Perhaps you would like me to say it in another language?”

“What? No…” Will managed out between the embarrassing sounds Hannibal was thrusting out of him.

“Amato.” Hannibal pressed the Italian into Will’s gaping mouth, accenting it with his tongue.

“Please…” Will gasped back, throwing his head back in open invitation. He wanted Hannibal to stop, was willing to make sacrifices in dignity toward that cause by baring his neck.

“Carus.” Hannibal took and took and took, his teeth running along Will’s jaw line and down his throat, the Latin spoken into the white jade lock like it were a key. The Alpha bit into the skin right above it, leaving behind a cameo of teeth marks.

“Stop.” Will was so close to begging. It hurt so good to hear the adoration, painfully so as his flesh trembled and clenched.

“Mylimasis.” Hannibal adored his mate in his mother tongue, his accent fitting into place for once. He reached down to take Will’s swollen length in hand, his thumb rubbed little circle over the sticky slit of it.

“Hannibal” Will choked out the name like it were a prayer and curse all in one. He was getting so close, Hannibal‘s hand bearing down on him in time to his thrusts..

“Saiai.” it didn’t hurt to speak the Japanese like it would have a lifetime ago, his knowledge of the language from another lover, possibly the only other person Hannibal could have loved. Such gifts were all for Will now though, the Omega struggling with himself to keep it together even while Hannibal was taking him apart with just one word.

“I’m going to…” Will gulped at air, trying to find relief as his skin felt too tight and hot, his body too full and swollen.

“Mon très cher .” It was the French that did it, something harkening back to Will’s days of growing up in the Bayou listening to others talk sweet and low to their loved ones. It touched something in Will he didn’t know he was vulnerable too, the Omega coming with a harsh cry through clenched teeth as he rode out his orgasm.

Feeling Will’s move and press tight around him, the Omega clenched down hard on his erection, making Hannibal reel and gasp. A few more thrusts into the sweet tight heat was enough to bring Hannibal to his completion, the Alpha letting out a stilted sigh as he emptied himself into Will. The Omega shuddered from the sensation of the liquid heat settling inside of him, Hannibal finally parting them to lay Will back down, coving the Omega’s panting body with his own.

Wiping away some stray tears from Will’s flushed cheeks, Hannibal stared down at his mate as he licked the salt off of them. Will watched him with heavy eyelids, the Omega wiped out. Sleep was a definite thing for him now, Will still unused to such overwhelming sensations or lovemaking.

“I will not be back until later this afternoon. I have to run a few errands after my appointments.” Hannibal said softly as to not break the placid mood between them. Contentment hummed through the bond linking them, but there was confusion there as well, like Will didn’t know what to do with that feeling. Their connection was practically glowing now, strengthened with new vitality.

“What if Jack needs me again?” Will asked, the idea of the afterglow lost on him. Hannibal expected nothing less from the stunted Omega though, smiling in the face of Will’s discomfort.

“Then go to him.” Hannibal shrugged, pressing his lips to the side of Will’s face to let them linger there. The Alpha enjoyed that fact that he could now, though still in limited amounts. His timing had to be right for it.

“Then what was all the posturing earlier for?” Will sighed, relenting as Hannibal kissing his way down to his neck, his long fingers stroking the silk braiding of Will’s collar, tugging it lower to make room for his marks. The collars were lovely tool used to break Will down while claiming ownership over Omega, but Hannibal still liked to personalize his claim.

“I had to make it clear who was your keeper. It is not you that I am worried about. My caution lies with the FBI and Jack Crawford. I feel he does not have your best interests at heart and has made it a habit of abandoning you to the monsters in your head as your only company.” Hannibal pressed his words into the soft skin of Will’s throat.

“Jack hasn’t abandoned me.” Will rolled his neck to the side to give the Alpha better access and was rewarded for his obedience with a kiss to his pulse point, and not the bite he had been expecting. It made Will shiver, his body over sensitive to any sensation.

“Not in any discernable way. Perhaps in the way gods abandon their creations. You say he hasn’t abandoned you, but at the same time, you suffer from what he places before your eyes.” Hannibal pressed himself closer, his penis soft but still wanting to be inside of Will. It was almost enough to make Hannibal wish he was in Rut, a state of being he found aggravating but gave him a much shorter refractory time. The placement of his gentials during this conversation was not lost on him or Will, the Omega losing some of the those softer feeling to glare tiredly at Hannibal as he felt the unique shift and slide of fluids within him.

“Oh, this should be interesting. Please, Doctor, proceed.” Will tried to move away, only succeeding in dislodging Hannibal from his opening to make a mess of himself. Will flushed in embarrassment as Hannibal took it with the applaud of any medical professional, one used to dealing with bodily fluids on a regular basis, the Alpha finally rising off of him. It was only to go as far as the bathroom, his mate soon returning cleaned off with a wet washcloth in hand. If Will had expected to be handed the towel, he was sorely disappointed as Hannibal cleaned his mate off himself, his movements practiced but gentle.

“I can…” Will protested weakly to find himself being held still after he tried to move away.

“Hannibal.” The stern tone made the Omega look up into sanguine eyes. It was the closest thing to an order that the Alpha had ever given him. As much as Hannibal preferred to be addressed by his title, he didn’t want to hear Will call him that. It was the empath’s way of erecting barriers between them.

“I like it when you say my name, Will.” Hannibal admitted, his tone softening, leaving again only long enough to dispose of the towel. They could change the sheets later. Their bed was big enough to avoid the wet spots, Hannibal shifting Will over so that they could lie side by side comfortably, Will being the little spoon in this arrangement much to his chagrin.

“I am wary of Jack because he leaves you to your own mental devices.” Hannibal told the back of Will’s head, his nose appreciating the dark silkiness of the Omega’s curls and the sweet scent they held there.

“Are you trying to alienate me from Jack Crawford?” Will snorted. “Jealously is not attractively worn by anyone, not even you.”

“I am not jealous of Jack. I am angered by him. I will not have my mate abused.” Hannibal said, keeping himself from growling out the words.

“I’m not abused!” Will snapped, trying to turn in Hannibal’s arms to find such an action impossible the way that the Alpha was gripping him, tight as a vice. Teeth found the back of Will’s neck, clamping down on the nape of it. The effect was instant, Will feeling himself go lax from the triggered pressure point on his body. It was like he was being drugged on calm between the bite and the Bond.

“You have an empathy disorder. That is the abuse I was referring to. What you do is not good for you.” Hannibal said between licks to the fresh wound. Unlike the ones made by Will on his own neck, the indentations Hannibal left behind were neat and clean cut through flesh, but they would not scar like his first bite, which was still healing all pink and shiny.

“Are you going to make me quit? Now that you’ve seen? Seen what I can do….what I’m capable of…” Will made himself ask. It hadn’t hurt to have Hannibal in his head, the realization coming almost as a shock to him. He knew the moment Hannibal had joined him in the hotel room, watching him kill that man, cut open his chest to get at his heart. The disgust he expected in return was not there, its absence startling. Will could almost allow himself to believe that on some level Hannibal might actually accept him for who and what he was. Will reminded himself that it was a foolish thing to do though. No one was that perfect, not even Hannibal.

“No. It is still your choice, Will. I’m just worried that Jack has gotten your hands very dirty.” Hannibal soothed. He wanted to laugh at Will’s obvious worries, tapping that urge down. Now that they were connected, Hannibal wanted to experience all of what Will was, but in return, gradually show the empath what lay in himself. Most of all though, Hannibal wanted to see how he killed in Will’s mind with Will mirroring his actions like some sort of obscene shadow.

“I wasn’t forced back into the field.” Will said softly, enjoying being held, cared for. It felt nice. He had never gotten to experience ‘nice’ often or on a regular basis, even if the bedroom talk left a lot to be desired. It sounded too much like therapy, but that was a given considering Hannibal’s profession.

“I wouldn’t say ‘forced’. ‘Manipulated’ would be the word I choose.” Hannibal feigned concern as darker things moved deeply within just below the safer surfaces Will was treading like thin ice over a lake.

“I can handle it.” Will said with a determination that Hannibal found endearing. Will would always fight, no matter what the odds, no matter against who. It was the enduring quality of Will that made this all so much fun and worth every effort for Hannibal.

“Somewhere between denying horrible events and calling them out lies the truth of psychological trauma.” Hannibal told him, because like Will would always fight, he would always play to win.

“So I can’t handle it.” Will grumbled into his pillow, getting mental whiplash. This was why he hated therapy. There never seemed to be any right answers.

“You can with me by your side for support or better yet, acting as your anchor.” Hannibal moved in for checkmate, the sincerity of his words feeling more real than usual for once.

“I appreciate that.” Will answered hesitantly. “Thank you.”

Hannibal savored the last of the tension leaving Will’s body, before continuing. “That being said, since this is not the Ripper or anyone too violent, if the situation arises, would you be comfortable going in by yourself while I take care of a few matters? I might be unavailable in the coming week or so.”

“Of course.” Will nodded, turning his head to look at the Alpha who rested his own against Will’s shoulder to look back at him. “Is it anything I can help you out with?”

“No. I will be lightening my work load, busy finding referrals to my patients while giving notice to others, and such. So that I can accompany you on a regular basis without having to constantly reschedule or cancel on a patient.” Hannibal explained, letting his fingers play over Will’s ribs at the Omega’s sharp intake of breath.

“I don’t want you to give up your practice or livelihood for me.” Will said, looking almost in a panic about it. He grew still again, feeling Hannibal chuckle against him, the vibrations from it low and deep.

“It is not an imposition. Working for the FBI will be very educational. Plus I have been wanting to delve into a new field of work, and this is a good a time as any to do so.” Hannibal said, pressing a kiss to the back of Will’s head before getting up, covering Will up in soft silk sheets to keep his body heat with the Omega just a little bit longer while cocooning Will in their mingled scent.

“I can pretty much guarantee that the FBI won’t pay your rates.” Will said softly as he watched Hannibal dress himself. It was almost an art form unto itself, and an excellent distraction while Will was tried not to feel guilty about the situation, failing at it. Hannibal was a well respected psychologist with an elite clientele. To just give all that up for his sake seemed absurd.

“We don’t need the money.” Hannibal told him, getting down to part of the matter that was bothering Will. “Being a Count and the sole survivor of a lineage comes not only with land and a title, but a great deal of wealth as well.”

“A Count? Really?” Will blinked up at Hannibal as the word’s connotations settled in his head, the Alpha looking far too amused as he nodded further confirmation. “Count Hannibal Lecter?”

“Yes, though I don’t use the title much these days unless I have to. I tend to avoid it entirely.” Hannibal knotted his tie mostly out of habit, his focus more on Will and how debauched he looked, the Alpha within him purring with pride about how sated his mate felt. “For the most part, people seem too impressed by something that I acquired through grace of birth. I much prefer to use titles I have worked to earn.”

“What else are you called besides Doctor or Count?” Will yawned, his mind moving slowly under the burden of oncoming sleep.

“I will only answer that ‘yes’ or ‘no’.” Hannibal smiled down at Will as the Omega’s eyes fluttered shut and started to grow still, sleep finally catching up to him. Pressing a light kiss to Will’s temple, the expression on the Ripper’s face was dark, deep, and unfathomable. “Sleep well, my beloved.”

Ooo

After having such a lovely morning with Will, it was a near travesty to ruin it in the company of fools, but Franklin had to be eventually dealt with. Looking forward to the near future, Hannibal knew he would savor the moment Franklin was given his referral. For right now though, he had to at least feign some interest in his ridiculously codependent patient.

“Would you like to discuss our chance encounter?” Hannibal offered in opening, referring to the opera incident from a couple of night ago, where Franklin had tried to intrude into Hannibal‘s life outside their sessions. Social and professional boundaries aside, Franklin was not the type of person Hannibal would ever willingly associate with to begin with. A vile combination of attention seeking, desperate and clingy, Franklin proved that imitation was not always the best form of flattery, his apparel and mannerisms echoing Hannibal’s own but resonated badly off key.

“It wasn’t exactly by chance. I knew you would be there, which isn’t why I was there. I was there because I like that sort of thing. It just occurred to me that you might like it too.” Franklin babbled, backpedaling clumsily in on himself. “Opera. With all the singing, because I hear you play it quite a bit when I’m sitting in the waiting room. Not that I’m listening in on you. I just notice things. About you.”

“In fact, I do.” Hannibal inclined his head, enjoying the show for what it was and not what it was trying to be.

“I tried to get your attention.” Franklin smiled helplessly in memory of it.

“I was aware of that.” Hannibal gave as little back as possible, Franklin already having more than enough rope to hang himself with, figuratively speaking unfortunately. Already bored with their conversation, Hannibal entertained himself, thinking it wouldn’t take a whole lot of effort on his part to make Franklin kill himself, but then there was the wild card variable of the Beta leaving a suicide note somewhere or with someone. Franklin was just the type to leave behind a novel about his motivation for demise, and Hannibal didn’t want to risk his name coming up any more than it had to, especially while Franklin was still his patient. Perhaps after he gave him a referral to another psychiatrist he despised, he could make this pleasant imagining a reality.

“I knew that you were aware, even though you were pretending you weren’t.” Franklin pouted even as he tried to keep his tone light and jovial.

“Besides it being unethical to approach a patient or acknowledge in any way our relationship outside of this room without your consent, I was attending the performance with someone whom I had invited. My duties as their host came first.” Hannibal explained, keeping his tone cool and clinical. Franklin approaching him like that at the opera while he was with Will had been a serious breach of etiquette.

“I don’t really know who you are outside of this room. I didn’t even know you had a mate.” Franklin said, and didn‘t he sound self-righteous about it. “You don’t have any pictures of him hanging up anywhere. You‘ve never mentioned him either.” Franklin’s tone heavily hinted that he thought he knew the reason behind that. That Hannibal was ashamed of his mate, enough so that he didn’t want any reminders of Will around him.

“I am your psychiatrist. I do not discuss personal details of my life with patients.” Hannibal took care to annunciate his words well to keep from grinding his back teeth in anger.

“This is why we should be friends.” Franklin jumped at the chance to voice a very bad idea. “Your mate obviously didn’t want to be there. Next time, we could go together instead. He doesn’t really seem to be our kind of people anyway.”

Hannibal stared blankly back at Franklin‘s idiotic hopeful grin, the Alpha’s face a set mask of neutrality while he experienced a very rare moment of indecisiveness. He just couldn’t make up his mind on whether or not to snap Franklin’s fat neck right here and now for insulting Will, or take the time to create a far more complicated, drawn out death for him. Hannibal allowed himself a slow blink, the Alpha pressing his lips together as he looked away, letting out a soft sigh as quiet as cutters clipping active bomb wire.

“I am a source of stability and clarity in your life, Franklin. I am not your friend.” Hannibal reigned himself in, though his words were frostbitten.

“But I’m a great friend. I shouldn’t have to pay to see you. It makes me sad.” Subtlety and the idea of self preservation was lost on Franklin as badly as good taste and social etiquette was, the Beta not picking up any of the signals to stop talking and start seriously reconsidering some of his life choices. “I want us to be friends.”

“Of course you do. I have intimate knowledge of you, but I can’t be your friend, Franklin. Not only would it be unprofessional, it would hinder your recovery.” Given the option of being Franklin’s friend or not, Hannibal found he would rather cut out his own tongue with something dull and rusty than agree to any relationship of that nature with the man.

“Are you friends with your mate?” Franklin asked, trying to look wise and insightful as he leaned back in his seat. Hannibal thought rather uncharitably that the expression made the Beta look constipated.

“That is a peculiar question. Why wouldn’t I be?” Hannibal’s curiosity got the better of him. Franklin’s bumbling at the opera had had an unexpected outcome, the presence of the persistent Beta stirring up feelings of jealousy and possessiveness from out of Will. It was really the only reason Franklin was still alive right now. Hannibal felt he owed the man that much in gratitude.

“He’s an Omega.” Franklin said with such distaste, the word fairly dripping sodden with it.

“If you would like, we can discuss your prejudice against that particular gender. However, we will not be discussing my personal life or any aspects of it. This is your hour, Franklin. I suggest that you use it wisely to your benefit.” which was more warning than Hannibal usually gave his victims.

“I’m not prejudice!” Franklin gaped back at him. Hannibal observed that his eyes bulged rather unattractively when he retained that expression.

“Your inflection and tone say otherwise. Moving on….”

OOo

“It’s been a while.” Bedelia started off their session, looking as flawless as always. Her expression could have been carved from ice. “I’ve haven’t seen you since the Auction. You seem different which is to be expected considering your purchase. More relaxed, I would even dare to say.”

“I met a man. Or more accurately, my mate. My soul mate. You were there. You know.” Hannibal nodded back, keeping his own mask firmly in place. It was a game after all between them, to see who would flinch first.

“I was. All I know though it that you purchased a male Omega. I want to hear your thoughts on it. Acquiring a mate this late in life is a monumental change. Considering the unusual circumstances of it as well, it would be for you both.” Bedelia said coolly, her inflictions in speech refined and polished keen enough to cut if need be. Hannibal always appreciated the state of her words, beautiful yet still deadly in their craftsmanship. “To my knowledge, you have never been in a lasting relationship with any gender, must less one worthy of a Bond. You have very high walls, Hannibal, and you do not trust easily. Even now, I am having a conversation with a version of you, hoping that the actual you gets what he needs.”

“A version of me?” Hannibal countered with a vague smile, the expression slight enough to give nothing away. That was the game they played with one another though, very careful games of mental chess. So far, their scores were evenly matched.

“Naturally, I respect its meticulous construction,” Bedelia tilted her lovely head toward him. “But you are wearing a very well tailored person suit.”

“Do you refer to me as Person Suit to your psychiatrist friends?” Hannibal asked, allowing his smile to grow though it held more warning than warmth in it. They were playing this game very close to the heart of serious matters, one that were best left undisturbed.

“I don’t discuss patients with my psychiatrist friends.” Bedelia answered unperturbed by his change in expression, the slight upturn in her own lips telling Hannibal that she had feinted a move, intentionally sacrificing a pawn of phrase to gain an advantage over him. He was now in check. “Especially since I have only one patient now who chose to ignore my retirement.”

“A patient who wears a person suit.” Hannibal ran the words over his tongue and through his teeth, trying to decide it there was insult or not within them, if he were winning or losing another piece.

“Maybe it’s less of a person suit and more of a human veil. That must be lonely.” Bedelia smoothly amended. “How is your mate responding to it?”

“We are friendly.” Hannibal countered, on guard now that they were discussing the nature of his relationship with Will. ‘Friendly’ didn’t sound good though, at least not in context to what they were talking about. “A Bond is already forming between us.”

“And how are you responding to him?” Bedelia pressed, looking pleased while still appearing utterly calm about it. This was why he had chosen her out of everyone else to be his ally in some matters, his confidant in others, but above all else, his psychiatrist. She could play the game well without having even been told the rules.

“I care about him deeply. I wish to protect him.” Hannibal answered, seeing how honesty would play out upon her.

“That is a conditioned Alpha response to an Omega. It is to be expected.” Bedelia’s tone told Hannibal that she was unimpressed by his vapid answer, seeing the emptiness it held. “To be clearer, I was asking how you as a person are responding to him.”

“I don’t understand your reasoning for asking that sort of question.” Hannibal admitted freely. There was only shame in complying with ignorance, to follow its lead blindly. “What are you trying to find out?”

“Are you in love?” Bedelia expanded, gesturing gracefully with her hand. “Does your relationship go beyond the boundaries of friendship?”

“We have already been intimate with each other on several memorable occasions.” Hannibal said to be met with a frosty look that was all winter steel from the blue eyed, platinum blonde.

“One can be intimate with a friend and feel nothing amorous toward them.” Bedelia pointed out. “Are you capable of experiencing such emotions and attachments romantically?”

“Because I wear a Person Suit?” Hannibal jabbed back though her words made his mind whirl and wonder, losing knights and rooks left and right. “That I would be unable to grasp such concepts as love?”

“No, but I would imagine that the application of love in real life, and not just as a concept to be experienced second hand through art or literature, would be difficult for you.” Bedelia wounded with truth, her words a white queen moving in for the kill from across the board.

“You make me sound like a monster.” Hannibal retreated, moving his black king to safety. He couldn’t answer a question and hold the line when he had to dwell on the concept of it himself. “Why do you bother?”

“Because I see enough of you to see the truth of you.” Bedelia said, flicking her wrist to check her watch in a well practiced gesture, rising elegantly from her seat as their session came to an end. “And I like you. Red or white?”

Hannibal regarded her with cool eyes before inclining his head forward, realizing he had been put into checkmate. She had won this round, this time. That deserved his respect, but not his submission.

“I‘m thinking pink.”

OOo

Upon waking, Will found that he had slept most of the day away, the Omega rolling out of bed well past when afternoon turned into evening. After getting dressed and changing the linen the way Hannibal liked, it came as no surprise to find the Alpha in his kitchen by then, Hannibal stripped out of his suit down to his dress shirt and wearing his long bistro apron. What was unusual was an open, mostly empty bottle of blush wine on the counter, sitting snugly in its silver cooler with an equally empty wine glass for company, Hannibal finished off the last sip with a bit of a flourish.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink pink wine before.” Will commented with an arched brow. Hannibal tended to delight in lush dark red wines, velvety vintages that were a story for the nose and a journey for the palette. “Drinking because of a patient?”

“No, she was drinking because of a patient. I have an unconventional psychiatrist.” Hannibal smiled, feeling warm and deliciously light from the wine. He had been given a great deal to think about this afternoon. That didn’t happen often in his experience.

“I didn’t know you went to a psychiatrist. For how long?” Will asked, thrown for a loop. He never would have thought someone like Hannibal would ever need that kind of help. It made sense though. If he had to sit around all day listening to other people’s problems and mentally wade through their crap, Will wagered he would want someone to bitch at too.

“Even since I chose to be a psychiatrist.” Hannibal was feeling slightly light headed. He had drank more wine than he should have on an empty stomach but Bedelia’s questions had bothered him on so many different levels. The wine didn’t help in solving them but it did take some of the edge off. With the Bond settling more in place, Hannibal didn’t want to risk putting Will off with his form of thinking if the Omega happened to stumble over it. Most would find the complexity of it unsettling, Hannibal tending to overlap his thinking to save time. If most people’s thought process was a single sheet of paper, Hannibal’s would be origami.

“Join me?” Hannibal asked, gesturing with the wine bottle as he tipped out what little was left into his glass to retrieve another like it along with an extra wine glass. “I assure you it is quite normal to partake in a glass or two during evening appointments.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk.” Will chuckled, accepting the offer. He didn’t really care for wine being more of a whisky drinker, but Hannibal seemed to be in such a oddly good mood he didn’t want to ruin it by being obtuse.

“I assure you, I am not inebriated. Would you like me to recite something to prove it to you?” Hannibal challenged, to find his mate looking back at him amused. He liked how surprise and delight were worn by Will, the Omega still loose in limb and soft in expression from much needed sleep.

“Recite what? Poetry? Shakespeare?” Will bit his bottom lip trying not to laugh, hiding his smile in the wine that was light and sweet on his tongue, tasting faintly of honey and strawberries.

“A comprise then. A sonnet.” Hannibal smiled, grandly gesturing with wine glass in hand. “Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand'ring bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.”

Applauding as Hannibal took a small courtly bow, Will tried not to think about what had made Hannibal pick those words to recite or the meaning behind them. “Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as ravens claws.” Will countered to receive a questioning look from Hannibal. “Jim Morrison.” he added, a touch smug though he felt silly about his superior musical knowledge, at least in the more modern eras of it. Hannibal didn’t strike him as a Doors fan. “Not exactly Shakespeare.”

“But very spoken well, none the less.” Hannibal said, putting down his wine glass to gather Will up in his arms, startling the empath as they began to sway in time to the background music. It was something soft and classical, of course Will noted, but a lot of Hannibal’s music was that. The Alpha was light on his feet, but wasn’t trying any fancy footwork on him so Will let him lead, the chosen movements nothing more complex than a box step that even Will could pick up in an instant.

“While I was out, I read an article today about our case from earlier. So the Ripper rips again? Or is this Uncle Jack trying to be clever, playing with a stacked deck to trick the Ripper into tipping his hand?” Hannibal mused aloud, greatly enjoying himself.

“No, it’s not him. It’s not the same guy. It’s somebody else.” Will sighed. Hannibal’s head was resting heavily on his shoulder, the Alpha shamelessly breathing in his scent.

“Maybe, it’s never been the same guy.” Hannibal exhaled, liking how Will’s skin goose bumped and shivered in response. His bite marks were like dark gems of onyx and amethyst embedded in the Omega’s skin, Hannibal running his tongue over them.

“What, now he has a friend?” Will chuckled, his neck ticklish and sensitive after all the attention it had received earlier from Hannibal. “Are you planning on serving me for dinner?”

It was light hearted joke in reaction to being licked, made entirely in innocent jest, but it caused Hannibal to step back from Will, suddenly looking chastened. Whatever mood that had been growing between was shattered now, Will watching in dismay as Hannibal tightened the bindings of his mask back in place, while trying not to appear like he was as the Alpha retreated behind the counter to start cooking again.

“Was there any variation in the murder that might have suggested there could be more than one Ripper? You seemed confident in the hotel room that it wasn’t him.” It was a diversion, an obvious tactic to drawn Will’s attention elsewhere away from him. Even when Will checked the bonds between them, he found that Hannibal was being very careful not to give anything back. Will didn’t know if it was worse not that he could actually see the walls that Hannibal hid behind. From the safety of the path, he could only glimpsed into the impressive structure that lay before him through doorways and arches that came and went on their own, its graceful spires and tall towers looming over Will from behind high black walls of polished marble.

Will found he had rather liked that version of Hannibal, the one who could let himself be relaxed enough around him to waltz in the kitchen while buzzed off of pink wine, but the Omega had no idea how to get that him back. His lack of experience in relationships was feeling painfully crippling to Will at the moment.

“Some variations. Enough.” Will sighed into his glass, taking his usual place at the counter to watch Hannibal cook while still being kind of the way. In retaliation, he was given a bowl of peas to shuck, a slight smile on Hannibal’s face lightening the mood again somewhat. Whatever the issue was, Hannibal didn’t want Will to think it pertained directly to him, the empath could read that much from his mate’s face. Apparently, Will mused to himself, he wasn’t the only one here with issues.

“The victims were all brutalized. What was the brutalization hiding? What did you see that all of us missed?” Hannibal asked, feigning ignorance even as he tried to repair the damage done by his abrupt reaction. The wine had made his withdrawal sharper than he had intended, but Will’s joking had brought too many real things to the forefront of his thinking, things that Will was not ready to know just yet. Even now, Hannibal doubted that Will would appreciate learning the true nature of the creature they were eating tonight or the real face that went with it. The book collector who had tried to sell Hannibal a fake first edition had squealed like the pig he was faking this evening when Hannibal had started flaying the skin off his arms to look like book pages.

“The surgical removal and preservation of vital organs.” Will said, eating more peas than he actually removing from their casings.

“Valuable organs?” Hannibal hinted, working on the idea that was already there in Will’s mind. It just needed a little more attention to flourish. “Please don’t eat all the peas. I would like some of them to make it into the dish.”

“Organ harvesters?” Will toyed with the idea, seeing how it fit together in his head as he ate some more of his given task just to be difficult.

“Jack is looking for a serial killer he can’t seem to catch. It’s a brilliant diversion.” Hannibal feigned mildly surprised realization as he reworked the Goulash recipe in his head. He could easily substitute fava beans for the peas instead, since Will seemed intent on eating them all up for whatever reason. “I believe you mentioned it before in the hotel that this was the work of trainee or a student with medical training.”

“It’s an interesting theory. I will have to keep it in mind if another body drops.” Will muttered to the too few peas in his bowl, his mind already running loops in on itself.

On the edge of his perception, Hannibal could feel Will’s mind already running, the ravenstag on the hunt picking up speed as it traveled over hill and dale made of pale bones, through dark forests filled with leaves that shed drops of blood like dew, and through streams of liquid terror. Taking a thoughtful sip as he made his plans for the upcoming week, Hannibal hid his own smile behind the rim of his glass. He had a dinner party to prepare for after all.

“Please do.”

OOo
“Found him in a school bus sitting across the aisle from himself.”

Staring at the row of bodies, Will’s mind was going nuts with reconstructions, one building right on top of the other in rapid secession. Zeller kept right on talking though, like Will‘s head wasn‘t trying to tear itself apart bloody. “Not only did the Ripper take his kidney, he also took his heart, which, if you’ll recall, is what he tried to do in the hotel room, but was interrupted before he could paint his picture.”

“The Ripper wasn’t painting a picture in the hotel room. Someone else was.” Will muttered, his arms crossed over his chest in a tight hold. Hannibal wasn’t with him this time. Will tried to remember how he had done this job before without Hannibal, feeling exposed from all sides, the stink of agitated Alphas that were not his own pressing in on him too suffocatingly close. It made his skin want to crawl off his bones as Will held himself together in place.

“You still think the Ripper was ripping out a heart to save a life?” Zeller said, sounding incredulous as he tried to stare Will down.

“Yes. I do.” Will was proud how steady his voice was. Straightening his spine, Will reminded himself that he was an old hand at this game. He didn’t have a Beta status to hide behind anymore, but he was more than used to clashing wills with Alphas, and how to remain intact while doing so. Will wasn’t about to buckle, especially not to an lesser Alpha like Zeller. Though it helped, he didn’t need Hannibal or any Alpha for that matter.

“The Ripper painted this picture for sure.” Beverly interrupted the stare off, bless her heart. Will found he was growing rather fond of her in his own way. “In big, broad strokes.”

“Could both victim’s organs have been harvested for transport?” Will asked, a conversation over pink wine coming into play.

“Like waking up in a tub of ice, missing a kidney?” Beverly looked amused, probably more than she should.

“I love a good urban legend.” Price picking up on the line of thought easily enough. “You could put the organs on a ventilator long enough to coordinate the donation.”

“At the hotel, the victim’s aorta and inferior vena cava, that’s the kidney’s in-and-out for blood, were removed.” Zeller played along as well, despite himself.

“They are like the USB cables you keep intact for an easy reconnect.” Beverly explained quickly to Will to keep this murder train going.

“Were Mr. Caldwell’s heart and kidney disconnected for an easy reconnect?” Will ventured, though he already had a pretty good idea about the answer, Zeller nodding as their train of thought picked up speed. “Other Ripper victim’s organs and USB cables missing as well?”

“It’s inconclusive due to the degree of the mutilation but yes. That is how the Ripper rip.” Zeller tried to derail in that condescending manner that made Will want to grit his teeth.

“Two different killers, same agenda?” Beverly picking up on the agenda Will was delivering at the station of motives.

“Oh, that’s good.” Price mused aloud. “Is an organ harvester disguising his work as the crime of a serial killer, or is a serial killer disguising his work as the crime of an organ harvester?”

“The Ripper’s style of mutilation hides the nature to his crimes, but it has a technique to it, an art. The Ripper has a signature brutality that is like his own trademark.” Will looked inwardly for answers, reviewing his internal gallery. It was all there of course, the Ripper’s pattern plain as day like a mental fingerprint made of other people‘s pain, fear, and blood. “Tell me about the rest.”

“Well, they’re all missing different organs. Before we might have looked at waiting lists for a heart or kidney, keeping it simple.” Price sounded like he wanted a stiff drink or like he wanted to kick something until it broke, the Beta irritated enough to smell like wet earth after a hard rain. Price strode down the line of corpses, gesturing to them in agitation. “But now we’re looking at hearts, kidneys, livers. This guy is missing a spleen. A spleen! Who the hell get’s a spleen transplant!?”

“Intestines are the only organ missing from this body?” Will noted, peeking into the cavity left rendered open.

“Yeah, so we’re either looking for someone with short bowels or the Ripper is making sausage.” Zeller sighed, obviously at a loss, the Alpha throwing his hand up in the air in dismay.

“He’s selling these organs to someone.” Jack boomed, making everyone jump, earning him glares from the group. In retaliation, Beverly threw out the agent’s coffee when the Alpha wasn‘t looking, too busy stalking down the row of corpses in search of answers he wasn‘t going to get from them.

“We aren’t even sure if he’s transporting them within the US. He could be exporting them to China for all we know.” Zeller shrugged. There was only so much he could do, only so much information that could be pulled from a body.

“The Chinese have a cultural taboo.” Price explained further. “You gotta die with all your parts or you dishonor mummy and daddy.”

“You could still kill a guy for parts. That doesn’t break the taboo.” Zeller snapped to receive an exaggerated eye roll from the Beta.

“I was agreeing with you.” The ’you moron’ at the end of that sentence was left more implied than spoken by Price to an answering look of disbelief from the Alpha. “Well, I was…”

“Your tone was a little….”

“Okay, okay. Settle down.” Jack rolled his eyes, turning to Will who had backed himself into a corner to stare at the row of corpses with empty eyes, the kind that saw too much. “How many killers?”

“Two.” Will said softly though it carried though the dead space well enough.

“You confident that one of them is the Ripper?” Jack’s dark eyes were gleaming, the Alpha chomping at the bit for the only answer he wanted to hear.

“At least one of them, yep.” Will nodded with a sigh, pushing himself off the wall as he stumbled toward the nearest exit.

“Where are you going?” Jack barked after him, trailing behind his profiler. Will ignored the heated Alpha and the play of his power that danced over Will’s shoulders and down his back, trying desperately to get Will to heel.
Not even pausing in step, Will ignored the Alpha as he threw out some of his own power back to bring Jack up short with a gasp.

“I’m going home.”

OOo
The kitchen was in a state of disarray that told Will that several culinary projects were going on simultaneously. It all looked terribly complicated, Will’s food skills running more along the lines of frying everything, a gift from his Southern upbringing, though he could clean, gut, and filet any fish in under five minutes. He could also open up trickier, more difficult fare like oysters and clams as easily as a coin purse. Even Hannibal had been impressed by his level of skill with seafood, which was saying something.

An array of machines in gleaming steel and white ceramic stood out on the counter and metal prep table. Hannibal was currently beside something with a crank, messing around with what looked like moist white tubing. “What are you making now?” Will asked, grabbing bottle of distilled water off the counter though he wanted a whole shitload of whiskey to go with it. Today had not been a good day. All those bodies had gotten to him.

“Siskomakkara.” was said so smoothly, and Will was sure spoken perfectly, though his brain was refusing to make sense of it.

“So, fancy hot dogs?” That hazarded guess earned Will a look from Hannibal. “Cocktail weenies?” Will tried again, just to see what kind of flat expression of disapproval, or lack there of, he would get.

“I suppose it is of the same idea in the sense it is ground meat squeezed into a casing. I use much better quality ingredients though.” Hannibal told him, focusing as filling and twisting the people sausage just so. “Though I wouldn’t even begin to presume what is in a cocktail weenie.” Hearing Hannibal say ‘cocktail weenie’ with his cultured way of speaking and in his accent was enough to make Will choke on his water. He made it to the sink in time to spit it out laughing.

“Are you alright?” Hannibal asked, glancing over at his mate in concern. He was never sure what really amused Will. Apparently, the Omega enjoyed hearing him utter absurd words for whatever reason.

“Sorry. Drinking problem.” Will laughed ruefully at his own bad joke. “Are you serving those….whatever at your dinner party?” There was another thing looming in on him from the horizon, the event late tomorrow evening. It was the reason Hannibal hadn’t been with him today or around much at all lately. No wonder he didn’t throw these things often, Will mused to himself. All this work just for one dinner seemed a little ridiculous to him.

“Yes. They are meant to be eaten fresh unlike a lot of their smoked brethren.” Hannibal told him, tying off the ends of the links when he was done.

“Do I have to go?” Will leaned up against the counter, feeling especially tired. The thought of having to spend an evening with people other than Hannibal was daunting.

“It is in your honor, so yes.” Hannibal said firmly, really looking up at Will for the first time now that he was free to do so. The Omega looked drained, his face pale and his skin sallow. Concerned, Hannibal washed people juice off of his hands, drying them off with a towel as he moved quickly to Will’s side, placing a cool back of hand to the Omega’s forehead.

“You’re warm.” Hannibal noted, leaning in to inhale deeply. The sweeter notes of a fever played up Will’s own natural scents, making Hannibal’s nose tingle. It wasn’t Heat but it gave Hannibal a hint to what Will was going to smell like soon enough.

“I run hot.” Will mumbled, enjoying Hannibal’s sudden closeness. It was what he had been needing all day. Will wanted to sink into it, wrap himself in Hannibal.

“It’s probably from stress. You should take an aspirin.” Hannibal told him, carefully standing still as he noticed the Omega begin to lean into him, Will’s forehead bumping up against his shoulder.

“Way ahead of you.” Will dug the white and red bottle out of his pocket to rattle it remaining contents at the Alpha. He was just so tired. He wanted to wrap his arms around Hannibal and just let the man hold him for a while, wipe all those other awful scents off of him, to erase away the smell of other Alphas and dead people. It took a moment but Will realized that he could. That was a viable option for him now, no longer alone and having to fake or substitute human interaction with dogs and too many layers.

Sighing, Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s waist, letting the Alpha take his weight as he rested his head on Hannibal’s shoulder. Mercifully, Hannibal remained quiet, giving Will what he wanted and needed. From his position though, the Omega was unable to see the grin that spread across Hannibal’s face like a wound.

OOo

“Where’s Will Graham!?”

Hannibal had taken it into the habit to hit the answer button at arm’s length or put the phone on speaker whenever Jack Crawford’s name came up on the ID.

“I’m here.” Will glared at the phone. He had just gotten back from Quantico, his messenger bag full of papers that needed to be looked over and graded, most of which should be shredded in Will’s opinion to save time and ink.

“We got a lead.“ Jack boomed over the phone, way too excited about life at the moment for Will. “Would you care to help us catch the Ripper?”

Will was too busy glaring at the phone to catch Hannibal’s smirk. In the end though, it was all rather anticlimactic, at least in Hannibal’s opinion.

It was Beverley who figured it all out using Will‘s working theory of there being two very different killers. Taking the Ripper out of the equation to focus on a killer she could actually catch, Beverly tracked down their organ thief through keen observation to detail and video surveillance from the hotel, now that she had an idea of what to look for. Their killer turned out to be a part time driver for a local kill truck company. Using a DF sweep for the ambulance, Beverly pinpointed one Mr. Devon Silvestri’s whereabouts easily enough.

Calling in the cavalry, Jack and a full SWAT team swept in on an abandoned building where the ambulance was hiding in partial shadow, the armed Alphas sweeping in like a pack of wolves dressed in body armor with Jack taking point, shotgun in hand. Will and Hannibal hung back by the vehicles, still apart of the hunt, but taking on the roles of observer. That was until the ambulance’s doors were popped open.

“Doctor Lecter!” Jack roared over his shoulders. Will and Hannibal exchanged looks as they moved toward the scene, the problem at hand soon becoming obvious. Mr. Silvestri had literally been caught red handed, his current victim’s blood up to his wrist and his hands still in the man‘s side.

“I need you to assess the situation, Doctor.” Jack growled. Will knew it must be killing Jack to have to rely on Hannibal. It acknowledged that his Alpha was useful which would damage any effort Jack sought to remove his presence from cases later on.

Will watched as Hannibal climbed into the rig with ease of a former emergency room surgeon, leaning in to evaluate the damage done. “He was removing his kidney.” Hannibal informed them all. “Poorly.” He added, to be glared at by Mr. Silvestri. “I can stop the bleeding.”

“Do it.” Jack snapped, waiting until he got the all clear from Hannibal to remove Mr. Silvestri from the vehicle. Engaged in his work, Hannibal ignored Jack and his team from that point on, easily attending to the bleeding and mending the damage done. This sad little killer was a dull, talentless thing, not worth his time or his attention. Glancing up, Hannibal realized belated that he had an audience.

Head titled slightly to the side, Will watched him work with a lost look on his normally expressive face, the Omega’s expression unusually blank and his blue gray eyes vacantly wide. The Bond between them glittered and shimmered with something unrecognizable to Hannibal, but unfortunately, he was too involved at the moment to commit himself to self exploration. Mr. Silvestri had butchered this man trying to relieve him of his kidney. Though he felt nothing for the victim, Hannibal was a perfectionist. He would not allow this man to die if it was in his power to prevent it.

The feeling that Will currently found in himself could only be best described as awe or something akin to it. He was watching Hannibal place his hands inside another human being, with blood up to his wrists, and all he could think about was how beautiful it looked. It was hard for Will to remember in this line of work that incisions and spilled blood could be made to save a life, not just take one. That healing could begin in cuts and bruises, instead of aiding in the loss of life.

In the privacy of his own head, Will thought that Hannibal was in his element, truly stunning just like that, covered in another person’s blood.

OOo

Will was hiding in the kitchen, studying the backs of wine bottles like he actually gave a damn about vintages, the serving staff Hannibal had hired for the event flitting around him. Sighing with relief, Hannibal knew he should be grateful that the Omega was at least properly dressed, wearing the suit and collar Hannibal had picked out for him. Mingling with their guests was really too much to hope for. As much as he wanted to show Will off, Hannibal knew he could only push the antisocial Omega so far until he did something unfortunate back. This feast was for him and Hannibal wanted Will to be here for it, to taste all the fruits of his labor.

“There you are. I was beginning to worry you had run off to Wolf Trap.” Hannibal said, coming up to run his hands down the front of Will’s dark suit, smoothing out the wrinkles the Omega had somehow managed to put into the material. Dressed in deep shades of blue that brought out the color of his eyes, Will looked truly stunning, his collar a simple band of blackened steel, slim and smooth to the touch.

“Well it was either this or a date with the Ripper. I had a hard time picking between a sadist or socialites.” Will grumbled, bringing a smile to Hannibal’s lips. “Still could go either way. I don’t think I would be good company.”

“I disagree.” Hannibal told him, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. Will glowered back at him before sighing in defeat, gesturing helplessly toward the dining room where their guests were gathering, the dinner bell having already been sounded. Not wishing to keep their guest waiting or put off presenting Will any longer, Hannibal offered the Omega his arm, Will taking it only after a moment’s hesitation.

“Come. This is all for you.” Hannibal said as he lead them out. And it was in a way. Everyone would get to look at and admire Will, but would be never allowed to touch.

“I swear to god I will use the wrong flatware on purpose, and slurp my wine if you leave me alone with these people.” Will muttered under his breath as their arrival was met with light applause.

“I will keep that in mind.” Hannibal smirked, pulling out Will’s chair for him, seating the Omega to his right between himself and Alana, and across from Mrs. Komeda. To seat properly in a formal manner would risk appealing to Will’s flight or fight nature. Hannibal wanted his mate to remain seated for all the course.

Will nearly jumped out of his skin when Mrs. Komeda paused in taking her seat to speak quietly to him. “Don’t be nervous or worry about what fork to use, Will.” Mrs. Komeda told him with a wide smile, nodding her head toward Hannibal who watched their conversation with interest. “No one is going to point it out or risk being seen as rude at Hannibal‘s table. They’ll never get invited back for dinner.”

Hannibal smiled at that, but shook his head. “That’s not true. They‘ll get a chance to grace my table one last time and be given a fair chance to make amends one way or another.”

Tonight’s courses were proof enough of that, his chosen sounder of pigs proving their worth in a way they never could in life.

“I’m not that cruel.”

oOo
TBC

Chapter Text

When Hannibal found him that evening, Will was already naked with his back pressed flush against the mattress and mounds of pillows piled up against the heavy mahogany headboard, the Omega waiting for the Alpha to find him. Will wasn‘t still too comfortable with foreplay, the act of it too intimate for his liking and their bond at this state, but he was quickly growing to like the more physical side of being in a bond. Smirking as he noticed how wet Will already was, Hannibal made quick work of removing his suit, willing and able by the time he joined his mate on the bed as he settled in between Will’s legs, positioning his mate’s appendages over his own as his cock head pressed up against Will’s gleaming orifice. Rubbing himself in the sweet smelling fluid there to slick himself up, Hannibal met Will’s eyes, seeking permission to proceed without having to do any other niceties between them. He was granted a slight nod from the Omega, the gesture impatient and terse, Will still not used to asking for things he wanted or getting them.

Relaxing into the breaching, Will watched as Hannibal pushed into his body inch by inch, the Alpha’s length glistening from his fragrant slick. Will made himself look, watch the process of it all, the empath absorbing every minute detail. He knew that he was being watched in return, could feel Hannibal’s blown eyes upon him, his irises a sanguine hunter’s eclipse.

Reaching down between them, Will felt around as Hannibal moved, his fingers exploring the physical act of connection as his fingers grazed their joined flesh. The erection slipping in and out of him with ease felt powerful and thick, the echoes of its thrusts reverberating throughout his body, shaking him to his core. Exploring slowly and trying not to be clumsy about it, Will found the base of the Alpha’s shaft was built full, the girth more solid than his own, the flesh there made to expand and thicken into a knot. The phenomenon only appeared during Heats and Ruts normally though, but they were hardly normal.

Wisps of Will’s power leaked through his touch, the contact between them going hot as he focused on that sensation that made his skin prickle and the hairs on Hannibal‘s skin stand on end. Will had never experienced a knot before, part of him wondering what it would be like. When his Heat arrived, delirium would come with its fever. It was a necessary part of the process, the fever of Heat making it easier for an Omega to take a knot, to hold the hardened flesh within their own for such an extended period of time and multiple round of breeding. Without it, the act of knotting could be painful, the hour it took to recede torturous for the Omega it was inflicted upon.

The fever of Heat was also only broken by knotting, or else the Omega would suffer from the mating sickness for several days. It was well known that an unknotted, unmated Omega in Heat was a truly desperate thing to be pitied. The exhaustion that came from the fever breaking was meant to make the Omega complacent enough to lay there for the time it took. That period of closeness was often spent by the Alpha creating new bonds or reaffirming old ones, the Omega’s neck and shoulders marked, remarked, or cared for, the Alpha laving their tongue over the wounds The unique chemicals found in their salvia made the Omega’s blood clot even as it mixed together, ensuring a certain type of scarring was formed. Mating bites scarred bone white and shiny in texture no matter what the skin tone, type, or location. In Will’s line of work, he had seen some horrific examples of that, some Omega’s faces bitten and scarred beyond recognition by an overly possessive Alpha. It was one of the reasons he asked Hannibal not to bite him in the beginning, why he had agreed to the collar instead.

Trust had changed all that. It was earned in small miserly increments, but Hannibal worked for it much to Will’s surprise. The Alpha had chipped away at Will’s fort until they had cracked enough so that he could wiggle in past, invading the Omega. Like the worm in the heart of the tower, Will could not stand against the constant assault of polite calm, excellent food, an almost devote kindness, and a patience for his shortcomings that was near saintly in nature, almost too good to be true. It left Will wanting more, the Omega feeling greedy and touch starved.

It was tempting to bring Hannibal fuller than he should be, to make him Rut, pull Hannibal into his season so that Will could experience this. The Alpha freezing mid motion made Will look up at Hannibal, breaking him out of this musing. Like he could read Will’s mind, the Alpha was staring back at him with wide eyes and a still face. There was a mask there as per usual but it was faltering. Something moved behind those smooth edges, perfected and worn velvet soft over a lifetime of practice that was now being threatened to ruin in careless seconds. Will knew that he could force Hannibal into Rut and while other Alphas might welcome such a thing, Hannibal was not one of them. His control was his armor and he was acting as if Will had just placed a sword to the gap in his breastplate.

Leaving off his shaft, Will reached down and further back to cup the Alpha’s balls, velvety soft and firm, the delicate organs hanging low and swollen. Hannibal’s eyes closed as he shuddered in response, still not voicing any complaint or threat, but still not moving either. His tense body language was doing that well enough, the muscles in his arms standing out like steely cords, and the smell of his musk sharp with new aggression. It promised no responsibilities for his actions if Will forced this upon Hannibal, of what his reaction would be if that control was broken.

Releasing his mate, Will laid himself back like an offering on the pillows, placing his hands over his head, baring his neck as he arched his back. Will felt ridiculous doing so, but it had the effect he wanted, the tense air about Hannibal breaking. A strong hand found Will’s wrists, holding them in place there as another want to his side, fingers digging into the flesh in points hard enough to bruise bloody deep red and sharper strange purples. By the end of the day, Will knew he would have slivers of moon gracing his hipbones like a strange crescent nebula from the Alpha‘s fingernails. Leaning over Will as he thrust in with forceful intent, Hannibal’s hot breath misted feverishly hot along Will’s throat, the Omega closing his eyes as he felt teeth bite into his flesh and lay claim to him.

The column of his neck was a blank canvas. His only mating mark was the nape of Will‘s neck like a signature and could be easily hidden, something that Will was usually grateful for. Will rarely wore a collar at home, Hannibal being an unusual Alpha in that regard. All Omegas were required to wear some kind of ownership marking whether it be bite marks, collars, or tattoos. Hannibal was very lax on the issue though, only asking Will to wear a collar in public, leaving the choice as optional when the Omega was home or in his company.

Will could feel that Hannibal wasn’t angry but he had felt threatened, and Hannibal was a not being who took being threatened well. No, that wasn’t correct Will amended in his head. He had a feeling that the Alpha was very good at dealing with such matters. The marking was his way of addressing Will‘s unexpected flex in power, and reestablishing his dominance over Omega. Hannibal liked to be in control.

Tilting his head back, Will let him, making himself react into the hold as he chased his own pleasure, struggling enough to be arousing but not enough to be taken seriously as an escape attempt. Will’s perceptions of pain and pleasure were twisted or hardwired wrong, either by biology, gender, or his damn empathy. The stinging and sharp hurt in his neck made Will pant, motivating him to grind up in time to the Alpha’s thrusts, instead of just laying there and taking it.

Hand finally leaving his hip, Will found that he was forgiven as his own ignored erection was discovered, Hannibal’s grip working in time to their newly found rhythm. The combination of firm fingers rippling over his hardness and Hannibal’s tongue working into the new wounds on his neck made Will’s come hard, the Omega crying out in relief like his orgasm was being torn from him.

Plaint and done, Will was free to watch Hannibal again, unhindered by the distraction of his own body as he enjoyed the sight of Hannibal‘s licking his hand clean of glistening white. The only indication that the Alpha was reaching his end was the slightly erratic movement of his hips and a wildness that darted in his eyes, making the orbs gleam true scarlet from time to time. Hannibal finished with a soft gasp, a sound similar to as if he had been interrupted reading and was mildly surprised about it. For some reason, it made Will feel ridiculously proud for causing it, for having that effect on this stoic man and to be the source of that disturbance in seemingly unflappable calm.

The silence between them should have been disconcerting or uncomfortable, but refused to evolve into something awkward between them. Will got all he needed just by watching Hannibal, the Alpha speaking to him on so many different levels that actual words were necessary.

Focusing on savoring the sensations lingering behind, Hannibal felt no words were needed, Will’s blue grey eyes taking him in his entirety. Anything said at this point would have been redundant. Actions were not though, Hannibal allowing them to speak louder than the absence of his words.

Trying his hand at being gentle, Hannibal leaned in again, though this time to press his blood coated lips to Will‘s own, his lips softly parting in answer. The Omega’s tongue darted out to taste his own flavoring, the iron of it almost salty sweet when combine with the lingering tastes of his seed.

Hannibal had been brutal in marking, the deep relief of his teeth like a chain around Will’s neck made of rubies that bled over the curve of his collarbones, the trails accented with deep amethyst, garnet, and onyx. It was an unkindness that was disproportionate to what Will had been considering to do out of curiosity and not spite. While Hannibal didn’t have any problem with being cruel, his mate was something to take into special consideration. Discovery of one’s nature should never be detoured, especially when Will was still all so new to his own.

A balance of some sort had to be found, before Will’s Heat. The bond between them was getting stronger, but Hannibal needed it to be sturdy enough, confining enough, binding enough, so that when Will did find out his secret, he would accept Hannibal for who and what he was without flinching, and ideally, without letting anyone else know.

It was a distinct possibility of finality, one Hannibal knew how to deal with or at least used to. If he could even call it a fear, the Alpha only willing to label it as mild trepidation, Hannibal was no longer sure he could kill Will if it came down to that sort of dire situation. The predator within wouldn’t let him kill the Omega in cold blood now, Will too engrained in his psyche as his mate. The man outward had no wish to return to his lonely existence either. To his astonishment, the thought of losing Will in any regard-his presence, his company, his life- grieved Hannibal who had thought himself above such feelings now.

Enough so that it must have shown in his face or around the corner of his eyes because Will was brushing his alpine cheekbones with the back of his knuckles, a worried look on his face, a timeless visage Michelangelo would have captured in marble. The Omega, his Will, was beautiful, but Hannibal reflected inwardly, he may be a bit bias now, considering he had the man‘s blood on his lips and was still balls deep in him. Soft and slipping out, but still being clenched down upon so sweetly by that heat.

Even while bloodied and bleeding, his Omega looked up at him with soft wide eyes, blue and gray as a bright winter’s morning, wondering out loud why Hannibal seemed so sad. It was touching in a way, and Hannibal found himself wounded and yet humbled by it. Just as Hannibal was affected by the Bond, Will was as well, perhaps even more so in some ways. His empathy were some of the ties that bound them to each other, Hannibal was sure of it.

Coming to a decision, Hannibal leaned back while maintaining careful eye contact with Will, knowing the empath would see the intentions they held within. He placed his hands on Will’s thighs, the appendages still draped loosely over his own, and dipped his head in a grave nod. Will’s eyes widened in response, his eyes dancing over the Alpha’s face while looking for any sign of hesitation, trepidation, or deceit. Finding none, Will raised his hands to Hannibal, holding them up and out, but making no effort to touch the Alpha with them. Touch was unnecessary, but Hannibal appreciated the gesture none the less. Will had accepted his offer, and yet the Alpha would have to make the final move, the last decision in the matter. Hannibal found the kindness and consideration Will showed him sometimes jarring.

Closing his eyes, Hannibal bowed his head forward until his face met open palms, his jutting cheeks resting against that too warm flesh that curved around to hold him as that strange powers that was all Will‘s own seeping in beneath his skin. Hannibal breathed in cool air and in the next exhalation, breathed out what felt like fire, the air itself catching in his lungs as his Rut awakened like angry embers stirred up into an open flame. Refractory periods were for other people, Hannibal feeling himself begin to swell within Will again, gripped into place by the Omega’s passage, Will shifting to compensate.

Admittedly, Will hadn’t known what to expect. He had an idea. Though he was loner and his way of dealing with others socially stunted, Will hadn’t been born under a rock, or blind to everything society and his gender reveled in. Alphas in Rut were at the forefront of art and literature, their nature romanticized nearly as much as an Omega’s Heat was. Will had never witnessed it firsthand until now though.

Letting go of his self was harder than expected. Hannibal hated his Ruts, those times of senseless nature when all he wanted was a body to fuck into like a mindless animal. Meat was supposed to be eaten, not elevated to the bedroom. Hannibal had never taken to the concept until now. He let Will pull out the reviled side of his self though to experience what it would be like with someone he viewed as his mate, the piece he kept hid behind locked doors and away from others.

Scent was the first thing Will noticed, the odor of cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg alchemizing with vanilla, musk, and oak until it practically fermented like fine liquor, cloyingly strong and spicy. The heat was the second noteworthy thing, Hannibal’s skin becoming feverishly hot to the touch, even more so down below as new life made receding flesh swell. Moving his hips experimentally, Will found that movement was soon countered and matched to a standstill. Heavy fingers digging into his hipbones made Will look up and stare.

It was sickening how much he wanted, Hannibal literally felt nauseous as he resisted the power that seeped into him, warm and syrupy as bitter golden honey. Hannibal looked down at his mate, and all he wanted to do was be in him, one way or another. With his teeth, his tongue, his nails, his cock, it didn’t matter. He wanted to own and ruin Will enough so that the world would know without a shadow of a doubt that the Omega was his and his alone. Hannibal wanted and his want was a world on fire.

Hannibal’s eyes were wide though no color was left in the iris save a thin band of scarlet. His mouth was a wide wound full of teeth, his head tilted to the side as if to regard Will. The analytical manner of it was long past gone now, the stare more akin to wolf sizing up his next meal and trying to will it to move first.

This had been very dangerous done, Will realized belated, because Hannibal, at least a part of him, was still fighting the Omega‘s influence. The resulting monster had been now unmasked and staring Will down, trying to decide if it wanted to fuck friend or fight foe. Clenching lower muscles tight, Will tried to persuade the creature in and above him to select the former. The beast growled in answer and warning, gulping at air as it clung to Will’s hips like the Omega’s body were a life jacket and it was drowning.

Keeping his movements slow and well telegraphed, Will reached down between them, feeling where Hannibal was imbedded in his body and the wealth of slick that coated everywhere from inner thigh to back of balls. Despite himself, the Alpha was thrusting, small barely there movements that rocked them both.

Too many desires tore at Hannibal’s mind at once. The desire to feed was there, the hunger for food, flesh, and blood that made his mouth water. The instinctual need to breed moved his body without permission, already buried deep and wet in a heat that was driving parts of his brain to unforeseen brinks of madness. The urge to kill was there at well, shadowing everything else, self preservation making the intuition perk up as it informed other parts of him how vulnerable he would be for the time trapped in Will’s body. Wolves were known to kill each other like that, an unwelcome male torn to pieces by the pack while still locked in the bitch he was breeding. Curious, Hannibal held enough control left in his self to see which want won out over the rest.

Making sure his fingers were well coated with the excess, Will raised them to Hannibal like an offering, watching as the predator tracked his every movements. Touch was allowed, Will smoothing some of his fluid around Hannibal’s mouth and under his nose, letting nature and pheromones do the work for him. If he pressed too hard or too soon with his power, Will knew he would not like the results of his haste, Hannibal was liable to snap. The current state of his neck was proof enough of that at his first attempt at this.

In immediate confirmation, Hannibal’s eyelids narrowed as his tongue flickered out from between his lips, tasting the sweetness laid out there for him. When the Alpha sagged forward with a starved sounding groan, Will knew Hannibal was his at last, the Alpha conquered, at least in part. Vice like hands lifted off of his hips to grasp at Will’s wrist, the remainder of his slick being worked off thoroughly with Hannibal’s tongue, the Alpha all but shoving the Omega’s hand into his mouth to nibble at his fingertips. Will used it as leverage to draw Hannibal in nearer to him, wrapping his legs around Hannibal’s waist so that he could hook his heels together as Hannibal’s timing started to pick up speed, his movements conscious efforts now.

The sweetness of vanilla and nectar soaked peaches cut through the haze of every want that threatened to tear holes in Hannibal’s mind like the elixir of life itself. Survival was knocked flat on its ass as mating instinct about fell over itself to comply in haste to the demands of that scent, the engaging and gratifying scents that could only be Omega and mate. It was siren’s song and gypsy’s curse all in one, the effect having the speed of whiplash, Hannibal’s full attention on Will. His taste. His scent. His sound. The feel of his body against and around his own, pulsing and searing at arterial spray.

Bringing Hannibal’s mouth to his own was a mess of wetness and movement, Hannibal wanting to taste all of Will at once but couldn’t decide in what order. Panting, Will tried not to flinch as his cheeks were licked clean by a wide flat tongue, Hannibal caring for every inch of his skin like it all had a different taste and texture. Will winced when the Alpha came down to his neck, the wounds there suckled upon and lapped at like his blood were the finest aged vintage of wine.

Everything was Will, filling Hannibal’s mouth and his sensitive nose, coating his tongue and throat, moving beneath his hands and body, around the swell of his cock. Everything was moist heat, slick surfaces, and heady smells that made Hannibal’s head reel and his body feel light and heavy all at the same time. His hips were pistoning out of his control as he fucked into a heat that accepted him from tip to root, clinging and clutching at his length.

All while it felt like Hannibal was trying to take him apart one hard stroke at a time in rapid succession. Usually the Alpha would take his time, drawing the experience out as if to savor it as he would any delight, the only mistiming coming from his final pleasure. Now though, it was hard and fast and punishing, Will holding onto Hannibal’s shoulders to keep himself from being fucked through the mattress. Hannibal was clinging onto him just as much, the Alpha’s face buried in the crook of Will’s neck, his face being marked with sweat that stung Will’s wounds and the blood that remained despite Hannibal best efforts.

Just as Will didn’t know how he was going to hang on much longer or clench down harder, Hannibal went still. It was eerily quiet, the space of silence only filled with their panting and stilted breathing. The sound that broke it could only be described as a roar, Hannibal forcing all the air out his lungs to make that terrible sound as he came, hard and deep, Will sorely feeling it.

Static white was all Hannibal would see though he knew his eyes were open. The faint ringing in his ears eventually was translated by his brain as a cry coming from him, born in his lower belly and pushed up past his heart into his throat. It was a howl and a bellow, a sound that was long, low, and deep. Hannibal let go long enough to touch the sun of his pleasure, feeling himself burn up from the inside as he was hollowed out, emptying himself into his mate.

The state of Heat and the peculiar brand of relief that it brought in some aspects came to Will’s mind as he felt Hannibal’s base begin to swell, the Alpha still coming as his knot emerged and formed. Taking deep breaths, Will forced himself to relax as his rim tried to keep up. He was grateful they had done this the second time round instead of the first, Will loosened and slick enough to accept the knot though it was uncomfortable, a dull ache that persisted.

The feeling of being filled was disconcerting, Hannibal still breeding the organs that were not there, just the vestigial outlines of them left behind enough for this and nothing else. Will knew his body would eventually absorb or expel all of Hannibal’s seed but until the knot receded Will was left with feeling too full, his lower abdomen tender and taunt from the mass deposits.

When Hannibal collapsed forward onto him, Will let him go out of the thrall of Rut, drawing back in his power a little bit at a time as not to shock the Alpha. Trembling, Hannibal returned fully to himself, deep seated and locked in his mate with Will stroking the quivering muscles of his back.

Moving them, Hannibal rolled them onto his back, taking the weight off of Will for now who was looking worse for wear. He could bear his mate’s weight for an hour or so, if not all night, the Alpha feeling the need to take control once more. On the other hand, Will appeared ready to pass out, the Omega pale with a fine filigree of turned scarlet around his neck, finer than any bought collar. The wounds were sealed shut by Hannibal‘s saliva now, the lace like remnants just old blood mixed with their sweat. They would heal bright pink and shiny as new plastic before resolving themselves into bone white marks with the sheen of satin.

Try as he might, Hannibal couldn’t stop himself from running his hands over his mate, through Will’s sweat dampened curls to the bites on his neck down his arms and sides to touch the belt of bruising around his hips. Following the line of the Omega’s body that curved from leg to backside, Hannibal’s fingers found Will’s stretched rim round his swollen knot. Grazing the slick covered, tautly drawn skin with even light fingertips made Will whimper above him and try to shift away, making them both groan from the somewhat painful sensation. Hushing the Omega with soft foreign words that made no sense to Will but who could still read into their value none the less, Hannibal soothed his mate by running his hands up and down Will’s back, making him relax into his body. Responding beautifully, Will’s body laid over him slack and loose with dead weight, the Omega only shifting back carefully to pull the down comforter back over them, shrouding them both in darkness, warmth, and the sound of their own breathing.

Fitting together like two strange puzzle pieces, Hannibal soon followed Will into sleep.
oOo
TBC

Chapter Text

“So…what is it like?”

Will looked over at the Beta walking beside him through the scrub fields outside of his house in Wolf Trap. Alana smiled sweetly back at him with her pretty blue eyes that somehow always managed to look more warm than their cool color should allow sparkling with something skin to glee. One didn’t need Will’s gifts to know what she was asking about or more accurately, who. She was inquiring, not to be nosy or judgmental, but as a friend, but Will never liked making anything easy for others, even for people he liked. Life wasn‘t fair so why the hell should he be.

“What’s what like?” Will puffed out white air to watch it dissipate. His dragon breathing acted as a trigger, his mind wandering to the ravenstag. The creature loped on the edges of his perceptions, staying in the lands that lay between his woods and sea, and Hannibal’s scrawling castle made entirely of black stone, the ones Will deemed as the mated pair’s neutral territory. Even now he could feel Hannibal shifting somewhere behind his high walls, his Alpha states away in Maryland. Their bond had only strengthened after Hannibal had marked Will’s neck quite recently one memorable night, the scar still shiny as new plastic and the bright pink of healthy healing. Soon they would be fine, bone white brands, satiny soft and slightly raised to the touch. Will kept them covered until then with a wide collar make of soft braided leather, ignoring how the distance between Hannibal and himself felt wounding. Try as he might not to, Will wondered if Hannibal felt the same way as well, like part of self was missing.

Rolling her eyes at the Omega, Alana playfully bumped Will’s shoulder with her own when he suddenly got too quiet. “Don’t be like that. I know you want to talk. You wouldn’t have invited me over just to walk your dogs.” she said, bending down to toss a stick to one of his many mutts, the larger members of the pack taking off after the flung offering. Winston chose to remain by Will’s side though.

“Maybe I like walking my dogs with you.” Will teased, still avoiding the question.

“Are you really going to make me say it?” Alana sighed, kicking at some snow. The fields were dusted with just enough of the cold stuff to make the dead grass stiff and slick all at the same time, but not enough for the dogs to really play in.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Will nodded solemnly, managing to keep a straight face.

“What is it like to live with Hannibal?” Alana finally broke down, crinkling her nose at Will for making her plainly ask.

“Why do you want to know?” Will found that he enjoyed playing hard to get. He had never really been in the position to do so before.

“Because I can’t imagine it, and I can imagine a lot. I don’t think anyone can actually. He’s always carried a certain air of mystique about him, one that he has chosen to encourage rather than dispel.” Alana admitted. “And it’s not like you ever dated before all this. Suddenly living with someone, especially someone like Hannibal, must be jarring.”

“Fair enough, but I was too broken to date.” Will self deprecated, mockingly placing a hand over his heart. Alana wasn’t about to let him off that easily though.

“You’re not broken. Never were.” Alana laughed low and sweet, shaking her head as she studied Will from the safety of her peripheral. She knew how much the Omega disliked direct eye contact or being stared at for too long, but she was pleased to note that Will looked….good. Healthy even, for the first time in a long time.

“Yeah? What’s your reason?” Will shot back, noticing and not liking the scrutiny as little as it was. Defensive or not, He felt he had a point though. The Beta beside him was lovely inside and outside, and to most other people’s surprise, completely unattached to anyone.

“For not dating?” Alana’s brows shot up at the change in subject. “I think too much.”

“So what are you going to do about that? Stop thinking?” Will grinned, the expression not pained or forced like it usually was in front of other people.

“I haven’t thought about it.” Alana shot back. “But I do think that you are avoiding my question.”

“It’s complicated.” Will answered with a slight shrug.

“That would be a given. Anything else?” Alana pressed, rubbing her arms to get some feeling back into them. As sunny as it was, the great outdoors today was brisk. Her fingers were starting to get numb in their gloves.

“Are you trying to ask about my sex life, Doctor?” Will quirked a smile at her from the corner of his mouth.

“No, but it’s obvious that you’ve figured it out.” Alana noted in a dry tone, making Will flush as she nodded toward his throat and the vivid bite marks placed upon it. “I’m more curious about your day to day interactions, and so on. I’ve also heard Hannibal is closing down his practice to go work full time at the FBI. That‘s a big step, for the both of you.”

“It’s complicated. That’s the long and short of it.” Will repeated with a sigh. “I didn’t ask him to do that.”

“Hannibal has never struck me as the type of man to do anything he didn’t feel like doing, asked or otherwise. You can’t define your relationship by his decisions alone.” Alana said. There was a warning there, the Beta obviously feeling protective of her friend. Part of it was biological. The genetic middlemen of the genders, Betas wanted to follow an Alpha, but support an Omega.

“I can’t define our relationship because I don’t know how.” Will admitted, shoving his hands into his pant pockets to keep from gesturing helplessly about. “Hannibal is….”

“Complicated.” Alana finished for him.

“Yes.” Will grinned ruefully back at her.

“He is that. Always has been.” Alana sighed. “Hell of a cook though.”

“Yes, he is that.” Will agreed. “He speaks at least five different languages” he added, finally giving Alana something she really wanted. “At least five that I know of. His library hints that it could be more though.”

“Does he? That must make things…..” Alana bit her bottom lip to keep from smirking.

“Interesting.” Will finished for her with a dark chuckle.

“Do you love him?” Alana asked in that candid manner of hers.

“You know how to bury the lede.” Will looked at her with raised brows. Alana had always been honest with him though. It was one of the traits he loved most about her.

“Well, do you?” Alana stopped, Will turning to face her. Will smiled, the expression almost sad.

“It’s complicated.”

OOo

“I hate being this neurotic.”

Through great but well practiced effort, Hannibal held back a sigh, not wishing to seem unprofessional, or maker forbid, rude. The thought of relieving himself of patients was becoming a sweeter notion with every passing day, especially now that he had a taste for crime scenes and delving into Will‘s mind during them. Everything else seemed mundane in comparison.

“Franklin, if you weren’t neurotic, you would be something much worse.” Hannibal stated instead, offering the sobbing man a tissue but refusing to relinquish the box.

“Thank you.” Franklin wiped his face off and blew his nose to deposit the soiled tissue on the pristine glass side table, validating Hannibal’s decision to hoard all the tissues on his side. “Maybe if I wasn’t this way, we could be friends.”

A lack of dignity made Hannibal want to shudder out of disgust at the very idea. Surpassing the urge, he managed to hold himself regally posed while still coming off as calming and patient as Franklin worked on collecting himself.

“I have a lot of respect for you. Since we can’t be friends, or you’re not comfortable with that, I found myself looking at my friends through your eyes, imagining what your diagnosis might be.” Franklin sniffled, looking to his therapist for a reaction. Good or bad, it didn’t really matter. It all translated to attention and focus from the object of his desire.

“So you become a psychoanalyst?” Hannibal wasn’t sure whether he felt annoyed or amused by this.

“I become you.” Franklin said magnanimously, like it were some kind of gift. Hannibal decided that he definitely was not amused. Seeking some sort of distraction to keep from harming Franklin, part of Hannibal sunk back into his skull, entering mind space. He could feel Will there, moving about off in the distance, the Omega presence there soothing even if it were far off.

“Who are you psychoanalyzing?” Hannibal made himself ask.

“My friend Tobias.” was enough to break Hannibal out of his mind palace and give the annoying Beta his full attention again. “I googled ‘psychopaths’ and went down the checklist. I was surprised to see how many boxes I checked off.”

“Why did you feel inclined to do this? I thought Tobias and you were becoming a bonded pair. That requires trust. What has he done to make you believe otherwise?” Hannibal lied. It was obvious to anyone that they were not, but it was enough to throw Franklin off completely, the Beta already sputtering in disbelief and impressive amounts of awkwardness.

“T-tobias and me!? B-bonded!?” Franklin stammered. “No, no. Um, no. Sorry, I don’t mean to come off as defensive, but he’s just not my brand. I’m looking for someone a little bit older…more refined…”

“My apologies for the assumption.” Hannibal steamrolled over the Beta’s clumsy hinting and weak attempts at flirting. “That does explain why you are jumping to these conclusions about Tobias.”

“He’s been saying some very dark things and then saying ‘just kidding’ afterward. It’s starting to come off as a little…strange so I was just wondering what your diagnosis would be in this case.” Franklin’s brow furrowed as he leaned in. Hannibal couldn’t press himself back more into his seat without coming off as undignified so he gave blank face back at Franklin. “Perhaps you can help me analyze him.”

“I am not analyzing your friend. I’m only analyzing your perception of him.” Hannibal clarified. “It may help you know yourself better. You could be projecting onto him what you consider to be your flaws.”

“But if I think Tobias is a psychopath…Oh god, does that mean I am a psychopath?” Franklin said with a scared, baffled expression.

“You‘re not psychopath, although you may be attracted to them.” Hannibal said softly, already beginning to lose interest again. If he were capable of such emotions, Hannibal supposed that at this point, he would start feeling somewhat bad for the clueless Beta. He really couldn’t find Franklin a referral fast enough.

Once more, Hannibal shifted back into his memory palace to look out across the fields there that lay far beyond his high black walls. He wondered if he were to shout out if Will would hear him echoing through their minds and in their bond. After being alone for so long, the notion of an answer, even the remote possibility of one, was almost terrifying.

oOo

The concert hall was impressive, Hannibal noted, even while fully lit with its stage strip bare and empty. Well, mostly empty.

Under a spotlight that was doing nothing good for the smell as it slow cooked its occupant, a man sat in a chair, dressed up formally in black and white. He was quite dead, obviously so, the corpse pressed back over his seat with the neck of cello shoved down his exposed throat. There, the skin was pulled back in morbid display of a talented touch, treated vocal cord standing out glossy white against the aging meat. It was picturesque, and though it was not Hannibal’s style, he could still appreciate it the craftsmanship that went into this art.

“The victim is Douglas Wilson, a member of the Baltimore Metropolitan Orchestra. Brass section, a trombone player.” Jack growled out as he circled around the victim. “He was killed shortly after his last performance. Blunt force trauma to the back of the head.”

“Do you think it was the Ripper?” Hannibal poked the bear, enjoying the show of watching anguish and disappointment ripple across the agent’s face. Hannibal was careful to keep his tone as neutral as possible to hide the fact he was mocking Jack.

“No. There was no organ removal or surgery performed on the body other than the front of his throat.” Jack gritted out between his teeth.

“Serial killers on the Ripper level rarely change their ‘style’ this late in the game. Escalation is more typical. Though staged and ostentatiously so, this killing, the style of it, would be considered a step back for the Ripper.” Will explained as he stared the dead man down, looking for answers and filing away details. “His killer brought him here to put on a show.”

“A show needs as audience. Who is this targeted at?” Hannibal mused, wanting very much to touch those glimmering gut strings, to pluck notes from them.

“I don’t know but I feel bad for them. Not my idea of an appropriate way of getting attention.” Will shook his head at the ridiculousness of it all. This corpse was like a poem turned into song, and left for another to find like some dark, twisted valentine.

“Will…it is me, or is it becoming easier for you to look?” At the agent’s warily spoken words, Will turned to look over at Jack with an brow arched high in question at him.

“I tell myself it’s purely an intellectual exercise.” Will sighed, fiddling with his glasses to hide his eyes and discomfort. Jack never seemed to be happy with him in that regard. It was confusing.

“In a narrow view of the field, that’s exactly what it is.” Jack insisted, trying to keep his focus mainly on Will much to the empath‘s discontent, and ignore Hannibal‘s existence.

“A very narrow view indeed.” Hannibal remarked, earning himself a glare from the other Alpha.

“It’s not any easier, Jack.” Will tried to defuse the air of alarm between the two Alphas. It wasn’t helping him that Hannibal disagreed quietly with that sentiment, the Bond thrumming from it. Ignoring it, Will pushed forward. “I shake it off. Keep on looking.”

“Good. You shake it off. Get to work.” Jack snapped, looking like he wanted to get closer to the Omega to enforce that feeling, but Hannibal was blatantly in the way, calmly staring Jack down with flat eyes that brooked no argument. “We’ll come back in when you’re ready for us.”

“We’ll let you know.” Hannibal shot in parting at Jack’s back, watching the muscles tense there.

“You’re only going to make it worse, you know.” Will groaned to find his personal space suddenly invaded, the Alpha taking off his glasses for him.

“He needs to understand that you’re mine.” Hannibal murmured, close enough to be heard well enough by Will as he carded his fingers through dark chocolate curls. Trailing downward, Hannibal left off of Will’s scalp to run his fingers along Will’s collar. “You know you don’t have to wear this anymore. Your throat is marked well enough for it now.”

“Maybe I like them.” Will muttered. He didn’t like to think they were having a tender moment in front of the dead. Stepping away from Hannibal, Will closed his eyes. The pendulum swung gold thrice, the thrum from it all encompassing as Will slipped into his own head space to find himself on stage facing the dead man turned cello. Walking backwards, Will jumped off the stage gracefully until he hit the seating. Plopping down, Will spread his legs and arms out comfortably wide, waiting for the show to begin until he remembered something. Lolling his head to the side, Will looked to the stage’s shadows, his eyes trying to pick out anything lurking there.

“You can come on out. I know you’re there.” Will called to the wings. He watched in near amusement as the ravenstag came out to walk across the stage, its hoof steps sounding hollow and heavy all at once on the polished wooden surface. The creature paused to sniff at the dead man, looking over at Will with dark, wet eyes and blood encrusted antlers. Emerging from the curtains, Hannibal followed behind it, the Alpha looking around with a mild curious expression like he did this sort of thing every day.

“Have a seat. The show’s about to begin.” Will said gesturing to the spaces beside him in the front row.

“You’re different here.” Hannibal observed, watching as Will relaxed back into his seat instead of hunching over. The Omega snorted in response with a wary grin.

“It’s my head. Why wouldn’t I be?” Will grinned, gesturing helplessly to himself before leaning in. “A little crazy to hide from yourself in your own head, don’t you think?” he whispered conspiratorially low to his mate.

“You do that enough in waking.” Hannibal nodded.

“It strange though. I’m not used to having company here. Is this normal for bonds? Are you even real?” Will said, poking Hannibal in the shoulder to be given a look in return. Ignoring the other’s mild ire, the Omega rested his head casually on Hannibal’s shoulder. “Or did I make you up?”

“Very real. Can’t you feel it, feel me in this place with you?” Hannibal asked, resting his neatly groomed own against Will’s curls so that they could both comfortably look at the meat instrument propped up.

“Yes…No…kinda? It’s strange.” Will mumbled. “The woods and ocean are mine?”

“Yes, they are.” Hannibal confirmed, studying the macabre instrument of meat and lost life.

“And the castle? The hedge maze?” Will asked questions he already knew the answer to. Hannibal could feel the Omega smile.

“That is all mine.” Hannibal admitted, wondering what Will felt about it all.

“Figures.” Will snorted, breaking off their contact as he started to shift away.

“I could show you how to make your own if you’d like.” Hannibal offered, watching the ravenstag with renewed interest as it jumped off the stage to wander up the aisle past them. “May I ask you a question?”

Will shrugged in answer. The Omega was studying the ravenstag as well with furrowed brow.

“What is that creature?” Hannibal asked, nodding toward the strange animal who regarded them coolly before leaving their company stage left.

“I don’t know. I thought he was yours.” Will‘s brows shot up in dismay. That was worrisome discovery.

“I have never seen a deer with feathers in its fur before. Have you?” Hannibal mused. The ravenstag had been quite helpful to him so far, always guiding the Alpha through the Omega’s headspace to find its owner.

“No.” Will sighed as he waved his hands in the air. “Yay. Insanity.”

“You’re not insane.” Hannibal shook his head.

“You say the sweetest things.” Will chuckled sadly as he looked away.

“I could if you let me, beloved.” Hannibal said, cupping Will’s cheeks with his hands to make the Omega turn back to him again.

“Shhhhh…” Will whispered, pressing shaking fingers to Hannibal’s lips. “The show is about it begin.” Hannibal would have said more, not caring for being denied, but Will was suddenly not there beside him, the Alpha looking to the stage to find the Omega standing behind the corpse with bow ready in hand. Making himself comfortable, Hannibal sat back in preparation for what was to come, curiosity and excitement sitting side by side with him in the rows.

Gripping the neck of the makeshift cello, Will leaned into the man as close as a lover, tightly gripping the instrument to run the bow across the exposed vocal cords. The music of the dead was low and deep like the cello it came from, the sound reminiscent of its source but not. The notes resonated through the flesh to rattle the bone within.

Relaxing back into his seat, Hannibal closed his eyes as the music washed over him, his mate and Omega playing their song.

TBC

Chapter Text

“Played him like a fiddle.”

Barely hearing Zeller’s words over the song of his own mind, Will shuddered from the space against the wall where he had propped himself up. Though all were back at the lab, Jack was mercifully absent and Hannibal had been waved off from his side so Will was left to his respite for now.

The team and Hannibal were currently standing around the body, looking down into it. Will knew he should be there along side them all as well, but couldn’t muster up the energy to do so just yet. Not when he could still feel the residue of the rosin powder engrained into his palms or remember the way the strings indented his fingertips. Even worse, the song….that terrible music of dark longing and open invitation…that bizarre sound of corpse notes played that bespoke of a love and a death in equal parts….had been brought forth from the dead man’s throat by his own hands for Hannibal.

Who had applauded from the front row. Standing ovation with what looked to be tears in his sanguine eyes.

Will felt like he was losing further touch with reality as he closed his eyes and tried desperately to break apart the melody in his head, the one playing itself on a loop. He was shattering to a soundtrack of his own making, one that was trying to herald him into new acts of madness. Will felt that his intermission of sanity had been far too fleeting. He hadn’t even had time to visit the lobby and get himself a snack. Biting his tongue, Will tried to focus on what was being said in the here and now. He knew it wouldn’t be good thing if he started giggling to himself for no reason in the presence of a body. Coworkers, and sane people in general, tended to frown on those sort of things.

“Along with the resin powder, we found sodium carbonate, sulfur dioxide, lye, and olive oil in the wounds.” Beverly’s voice cut through the din. Will found himself following her words well enough between the notes being played, his current state of mind comparing her voice to a clarinet, making it into one.

“What’s the deal with the olive oil?” Zeller’s brow furrowed with confused distaste. Will focused on the tall, dark haired Alpha for some diversion, Will using his gifts to glean that Zeller didn’t want to deal with another cannibal. While very much in agreement, Will decided that Zeller would be an oboe.

“Sure wasn’t making salad.” Price pitched in, echoing the unspoken sentiment in the notes of a bassoon.

“Whatever could he was trying to produce, it was an authentic one.” Hannibal’s voice was like a revelation in the form of a violin, something refined and aged well by technique and experience. A Stradivarius to round out the trio of wood winds, the quartet around the meat cello making their own kind of music. “Olive oil hasn’t been used in the production of catgut for over a century. It was said to increase the life of the strings and create a sweeter, more melodic sound.”

Much like the one in his head, Will thought as he trembled under its continuing weight. There was a point when loveliness in any form became too much, when masterpieces were reduced to smudges of coloring on canvas, carved marble realized to be chunks of rock, and symphonies devolved into a clamor of discord.

“I bet you’re fun to play Trivial Pursuit with.” Beverly chuckled, her voice a ripple of playful sound that complimented the others well. Trying to follow the new opus being played around him, Will wondered to himself if Hannibal even knew what Trivial Pursuit was. The Alpha didn’t strike him as the game board type. Chess perhaps though, maybe even Chinese checkers, but nothing that had funny little cards in the mix or any plastic pieces for that matter. The concepts of plastic tokens and Hannibal just didn’t seem to sit well in Will’s head, the empath struggling again not to start giggling.

“He removed anything non muscular or fatty around the vocal folds.” Zeller’s voice blended in once again. Will focused on what was being spoken to distract himself once more.

“The sulfur dioxide had the effect of hardening the vocal chords.” Price harmoniously explained, making himself Will’s second favorite person after Beverly. Will liked the Beta’s self deprecating humor, and his conversational timing. Price seemed to know what to say and when to say it, and Will appreciated that ability. It was one that always seemed to allude him.

“Made them easier to play.” Will supplied unsteadily, and nearly threw up upon hearing the sound of his own voice as it blended in with the other’s music. Oh sweet Jesus, he was a cello. He dry swallowed back rising bile. Puking would be frowned down upon too.

Finding himself back where he had started, Will glared over at the corpse, his instrument of bone and rotting flesh, the killer in his head turned conductor taking control of this orchestra for a moment. “Had to open you up to get a decent sound out of you.”

That was enough to make everyone pause long enough to stare over at Will for various reason. Answering emotions from his audience ranged from fear, discomfort, fascination, and oddly enough, amusement from Hannibal, though Will knew he was the only one who could see it gracing the Alpha‘s still features. It was enough to make the empath come back to himself in horrifically clear realization that he had just said something abnormal. Shamed and embarrassed, Will noticed that his coworkers were being kept from commenting on it by Hannibal who was giving them a hard look, his power making all their skin tingle in warning.

Hiding his face in his hands, Will focused on the ‘not puking at work or in front of other people’ thing to save himself further humiliation as his own stomach worked against him, knocking in over itself painfully. Something cool gently bumping against Will’s white knuckled fingers made the Omega look up to find a glass of water being presented to him by Hannibal. When Will made no move to accept it, Hannibal pressed the glass to Will’s lips, the Alpha’s other hand cupping the Omega’s jaw to hold him steady and work his mouth open. Will hadn’t realized he was so thirsty until moisture hit his tongue, leaned into Hannibal’s touch despite the intimacy of it in a work environment. Will knew if Jack saw this that they would never hear the end of it.

“You pick it up and can’t play it, he’ll put you down and play you.” Beverly said warily. In another life if they had been other people, Will reflected that he could have really loved her. He knew it was in her nature as a Beta to want to support and even guard him, but it didn’t make him like her any less for it.

Setting the now empty glass aside, Hannibal placed his hands on his mate, feeling the Omega shuddered beneath his touch. The burden of this fresh killer in Will’s head was beginning to take its toll. Hannibal could still hear the music of cello maker playing in the background of Will’s head. It didn’t bother him, but apparently Will was being eroded down to his foundations note for note. Running his fingers underneath Will’s leather collar to touch the still healing bond marks underneath, Hannibal exerted some increment of control over Will to disrupt the music that played itself out behind the Omega‘s eyelids. To his inner delight, Will let him, his mate practically going limp with relief against the Alpha.

“He took the time to whiten the vocal cords before playing them.” Zeller said, sounding more like himself and less like an instrument now there was quiet in his mindscape. Will breathed a sigh of relief as he made himself stand up and step away from Hannibal to join his coworkers. To his relief, Will noted that his Alpha looked more amused than offended by this as Will shrugged off Hannibal‘s hands.

“It’s not about whitening them. It was about increasing elasticity.” Will sighed though he sounded stronger now, more mentally balanced.

“He treated the vocal cords the same way you treat catgut strings.” Beverly said to be met with inquisitive looks that wanted to ask but deemed it too racist or inappropriate. Beverly rolled her eyes back at them, letting the men know she was not impressed with any of them. “Yes, I played the violin.”

“You must perform for us some time soon then.” Hannibal remarked with a slight smile at the Beta who grinned back. “One needs a passion and a certain zest for life to truly play the violin. Both of which you have in abundance.”

“Sweet talker. Feed me and I‘ll consider risking your hearing.” Beverly laughed. “I said I played it. I didn’t say I played it well. Talent is just as important as passion, if not more so.”

“Both were applied here. This takes a steady hand. A confidence.” Will remarked, his eyes taking in the finer details of the splayed flesh, the crafting of it. “He’s killed before.”

“Like this?” Price warily asked, not liking the prospect of more dead bodies made to resemble an orchestra.

“No, not like this. This is a skilled musician trying out a new instrument.” Will mumbled, sounded tired even to himself as he disengaged, stepping away from the rotting cello. The music was returning, seeping in at his edges like strange foxfire that haunted him with sound instead of ghost light. A hand placed to the small of his back guided Will out, the Omega realizing that Hannibal was taking the lead, and Will found that he was grateful for it. He wouldn’t be expected to drive, to find his way home, or do anything a normal person would have to do, at least for a little while. He could just simply exist and that would be fine.

“I want that dinner, Doc!” was the last thing Will heard in parting before he slipped under a wave of music and sound that threatened to pull him under like a riptide. Will’s last cognitive thought was spent hoping that he would not embarrass himself further by passing out.

oOo

When Will came back to himself, he realized several things. Prevalently, he was safe, back at home. Will could tell that much even before he opened his eyes. The mingled scents of Alpha and Omega that were purely theirs made Will relax immediately, certain instincts standing down with the realization as the Omega recognized the smell of their aftershaves and other bathroom brands.

Another detail was that Will could feel he was naked and that the bathroom was a little cool. The backs of his arms and legs kept goose bumping, but Will wasn’t too concerned about that at the moment.

First and foremost, Will could discern that he was currently being leaned over a bathroom counter and fucked into the cold marble with Hannibal’s teeth latched into his neck. Crying out, Will pushed back against the onslaught of thrusts as the Omega used his hands to brace himself and push back in tandem.

“There you are.” Will heard Hannibal murmur into his throat, releasing the flesh long enough to do so before sinking his teeth back into Will‘s meat.

“Here I am.“ Will gasped like one resurfacing to gulp at sweetly missed air. “Did I faint?”

“No. You appeared to act perfectly normal. You even responded to inquires and held conversation convincingly well. That which is you was not present though.” Hannibal said, finally leaving off of Will’s bloody neck with his teeth to replace it with a broad tongue.

“And that doesn’t worry you?” Will wondered as his shoulders were pinned down, the Alpha lapping up the blood that threatened to spill over from clean cut indentations. There was pain from it, but it was so muddled up with everything else going on all Will could do was press himself into the cool stone of the counter.

“What you do is not good for you. Your mind was protecting itself from a traumatic experience.” Hannibal all but growled above him, making Will shiver in response.

“I’ve never lost time before.” Will rasped. He was being roughly handled and it was doing wonderfully bad things to him. Hannibal was owning him, leaving bruises, completing the collar of scars around his neck, and Will couldn’t bring himself to care. A part of him sat in the back of his mind, frightened and screaming at the thought of being bound even further to an Alpha, but it was being drowned out more and more. After a lifetime of struggle against his own nature, the relief of just letting go was bliss.

“You’ve never been in a bond before. I believe you were trying to protect me as well.” Hannibal told him, speaking mostly in truths for once. During Will’s autonomous state, their bond had remained intact, though Will’s lands and ocean had been covered in a thick blanket of fog. The ravenstag was still there as well, guiding Hannibal to wherever he wanted to go.

“So I stopped the thinking?” Will reasoned out for himself, risking a look sideways over his shoulder at Hannibal. His Alpha looked magnificent, covering in a sheen of sweat, his muscles moving smooth and strong as his hips pistoned against Will‘s ass.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Hannibal smiled, his teeth and lips stained crimson. It should have looked frightening, a scene straight out of Will’s nightmares, but the expression was proud and pleased. Will knew he was being allowed to see at least that much from the mask even if he didn’t know why.

Will would have asked Hannibal to expand further on the subject, but his bodily responses to the almost brutal stimuli were proving to be too much of a distraction for any further reasoning. His erection kept smacking his lower abdomen almost painfully, making sticky sounds with every brief contact that was never enough. Feeling too full and too swollen, Will wondered how long they had been at this or how Hannibal came by the idea to fuck him back to sanity. Hannibal’s hand on his cock reduced those thoughts to ash, Will reeling from his Alpha’s touch as he was stroked in time to the thrusts that were trying to work his body into the dark marble. Will’s hands danced across the countertops, attempting to find grip as he came hard and fast into Hannibal’s hand. Panting, Will watched in the mirror as Hannibal licked his hand clean, all while staring back at the Omega in the reflection. The Alpha openly smirked as he seemed to savor Will’s essence.

Splayed out across the cool surface and drained of all energy, Will was barely cognizant of the Alpha still moving over and in him, using his body. Watching their reflection in the mirror through half lidded eyes, Will let him, even found some sort of comfort in it. He liked being wanted, the encompassing feel of Hannibal leaning over him fully once again to mark the back of his neck with sharp teeth and the scent of iron.

Hannibal’s release was a pool of welcomed warmth deep within, his growl muffled by Will‘s abused flesh. Feeling the Alpha withdrawn himself, Will whimpered in response even as he hated himself for it. He thought it made him sound weak, needy even. Hannibal’s seed was still cooling in his body and all Will wanted was to be filled more with it until it ran down his thighs in rivulets, filling his sex with his Alpha’s scent so that no other would even dare look his way. Whether he saw it as a personal failing or not, Will wanted his mate close, skin to skin with him, in him.

To his relief and further self disgust, Hannibal was back soon enough, Will realizing the Alpha had only left him long enough to turn on the shower. Roused from his daze, Will found himself braced up against Hannibal under the stream, of being cleaned out by gentle fingers, and his skin rubbed down with body wash that smelled like cinnamon infused sandalwood and a stiff loofah. During the process, Will stared up at Hannibal feeling comfortably blank and devoid of any real feeling. There was still music playing in the background of his mind, but it was something classical with a flute accompanied by other woodwind instruments. The sonata was soft and ignorable.

His attention lapsed long enough for Will to miss how he got from the shower to the bathtub, the Omega becoming aware again to note that he was submerged up to his shoulders in cucumber and sage scented water. It was hot enough to sting, but enough so to make his muscles unclench as stress and other kinks were bled out into the herbaceous bathwater. Will could admit to himself that he was growing quite fond of Hannibal’s ridiculously big bathtub as the two men lounged comfortably in its wide depths. Will sat up cradled in Hannibal’s arms and against his chest, his long tapered legs on either side of Will’s own. Will’s hands were being massaged by the Alpha, and in some strange way that felt more intimate than if Hannibal were touching him down below. Watching Hannibal knead his fingers between his own, Will liked the contrast between them, Hannibal’s skin tanned and veiny compared to his own paler version, his large hands graceful strong things that worked him over effortlessly.

After a while, the comforting touch was left off so that a wine glass could be pressed to Will’s lips, splayed fingers working over his throat to feel the sweet spicy wine be swallowed down in larger sips than were probably good for him. Cheese, real cheddar that was sharp enough to almost make Will wince in pleasure, was placed on his tongue, mingling elegantly with sugary taste left behind in his mouth by the Gewürztraminer. As he chewed, Will watched as Hannibal drank from the same wine glass, the intimacy of it making Will shiver. Knowing what he knew about Hannibal, this was not a gesture to be dismissed lightly or ignored.

This kind of care was decadent, Will chiding himself not to get used to it. All good things came to an end. His life was proof enough of that. It was hard though, especially when Hannibal was pressing kisses to his temple while murmuring foreign words into his dark sodden curls. Sweet nothings that Will couldn’t understand, but could easily read the meaning of because of what he was and the bond they shared. The connection between them hummed with contentment, filled with a golden lightness that Will found almost disconcerting in its peaceful nature. Turning his head, Will returned the favor of affection, his lips grazing the curve of the Alpha’s throat and the underside of his jaw.

“Among the first musical instruments were flutes carved from human bone.” Hannibal spoke softly though his accent still managed to echo in the tiled room, the vibration of his voice sending thrills down Will‘s spine.

“This murder was a performance.” Will hummed back, licking off the droplets of water that clung to Hannibal skin before placing a bruise there with his tongue and teeth. It was a dangerous thing to place any kind of mark on an Alpha’s throat or even linger there, but something in this moment told Will that Hannibal would allow it without protest or repercussion. If anything, the Alpha felt pleased by the concept to Will through their bond.

“Every life is a piece of music.” Hannibal rumbled against Will’s lips as the Omega gave him a collar of his own, one made of garnets that would darken to onyx if he let Will keep up his devotions of tongue and teeth. “Like most music we are finite events, unique arrangements. Sometimes harmonious, sometimes dissonant.

Settling back in thought, Will left off the Alpha’s throat to let Hannibal feed him more wine and cheese before adding more to the observation. “Sometimes not worth hearing again.” Will sighed, leaning into the hands that stroked his face and throat.

“He’s a poet and a psychopath.” Hannibal mused, admiring his mate, the way the water made his skin shimmer and his hair curl into elegant loops and twists. His Omega’s Heat was coming soon and with it revelations, endings, and hopefully, new beginnings.

“And a craftsman.” Will added. He returned those touches, mild tentative explorations of his mate. The pads of his fingers lingered over sharply defined cheekbones, a wide mouth, and an elegant brow that hid its eyebrows. “He shrunk and tanned the vocal chords. That takes considerable patience and skill.”

“Like turning iron wire into musical steel.” Hannibal agreed, keeping mostly still to encourage Will to keep touching him. Despite their growing familiarity with each other, the Omega still so rarely the initiative to reciprocate affection. Hannibal could feel that it was mostly due to fear of some sort or another. Fear of violence, and fear of abuse were the most prevalent out of the lot. Fear of abandonment was new though, and perhaps, the most sweet of all to acknowledge.

“He’ll have a base of operation. This kind of thing needs an established workspace. It’s not something he can do on a whim or on the fly.” Will worked out, stringing together observations that were floating around in his head like dust mote in shafts of sunlight. “He’ll be older, but not old. Late thirties at best. This isn’t the skill of a novice. This is work done by someone who’s had an apprenticeship, someone who has handled, catalogued, and shaped instruments for the better part of his lifetime….”

Hannibal looked down as Will trailed off in the middle of his assessment, the construction already beginning to form and build up a new exhibit in the gallery of the empath’s mind, the part where all the killers resided in him. Hannibal knew it as well as the rooms in his own mind palace. Part of himself resided there permanently in Will’s mind though the empath did not or refused to recognize it for who it really was.

Slipping in between thoughts, Hannibal went there often to admire the displays made out of all the vivid colors, sounds, and other detailed information that Will’s wonderful mind collected. The empath never seemed to notice the intrusion upon this mental space of his, Will’s own fear and self loathing keeping a barrier up so high and opaque that it hid all of Hannibal’s comings and goings into it. Though his offer to help Will understand their bond better was genuine, Will’s reluctance to accept gave Hannibal the advantage to gain further ground and omit certain things about it while manipulating the headspace.

Their connection was something rare and unique, the levels of which were unprecedented and undocumented. Hours committed to research and scouring text had determined that their bond was truly exceptional. Their levels of connections neared some form of telepathy, and should have been an impossibility.

Accepting the situation at hand for what it was with a clear mind and iron will, Hannibal was determined to be the one in their relationship with the upper hand, but he knew he had to be careful about it, all while working under an indeterminate deadline of sorts. Will’s fear was the only real thing keeping himself as bay and blind in his own head, though the empath was beginning to stray further in.

Since their bond had been established in blood and soul deep, Hannibal had already found Will wandering the halls of his mind palace several times, the empath not knowing where he was or how he got there. Terror and/or respect of other people’s things had kept Will from opening door or looking into places he shouldn’t, something that Hannibal was quite grateful for. Stored away in a tower whose sole purpose of existence was only for her, the odds of Will finding his sister were slim at best, but Hannibal found he was not ready to share Mischa with Will just yet. The Omega would need to understand more about Hannibal and what he was and why he did what he did to appreciate who had been so cruelly taken from him and what revenge truly looked like, what it cost.

“What troubles you, beloved?” Hannibal asked, keeping himself at bay from entering too far in Will’s mind, keeping to his side of the places in-between them. He needed Will to think that he was slipping over to his side of their bond by accident or being led there by the stag.

“I still hear what he was playing behind my eyes when I close them.” Will murmured, the Omega looking miserable about it. “What he made me play for you.”

“I know. I can hear it too.” Hannibal said, hiding his smile into the nape of Will’s neck.

“I’m sorry.” Will whispered, his body growing tense. Hannibal smoothed this new stress away, running his hands along the Omega’s sides and arms until Will was relaxing against him again.

“Don’t apologize. It’s beautiful.” Hannibal told Will letting some authority seep into his voice. They had been doing this dance for almost too long. Even his own enduring patience was beginning to fray slightly along to edges. Hannibal longed for Will to recognize the truth, and see him fully, for all the shards and half glimpses to come together in harmony.

“It’s maddening.” Will muttered in disappointing response, too lost in his own fear to see the big picture just yet.

“You said before in the theater that the killer was performing. Who do you think he was performing for?” Hannibal asked instead of dwelling. His time would come. Now was not it.

“I don’t know. Patron of the arts, a fellow musician, or another killer?” Will shook his head, not willing to slip under its tumultuous depths again. He had lost time and that scared him. If he wasn’t in control of himself, then who was?

“It’s a serenade then.” Hannibal mused as he took a moment to refill their wineglass. Watching Will enjoy the finer things in life pleased Hannibal, the sensation of it worth exploring and expanding upon. In the past, Hannibal could be generous with others because he wanted to impress them or belittle them. With Will, the urge to give the Omega everything he needed seemed to come naturally from a new place within him.

“No. This is not how he kills. Normally, he doesn’t kill for an audience.” Will shook his head, taking the golden wine offered to him. Though it went well with the cheddar, Will found it too sweet to sip at. Blaming the heat of the bath and the heady courage borne from gulped down wine, Will turned his head to press his lips to Hannibal’s. The wine seeped into the Alpha’s mouth, making the kiss between them all the more sweeter, lasting longer as the Alpha drank the offering. Hannibal licked out the lingering taste of it from Will’s mouth, running a broad tongue over the Omega‘s parted lips in finish.

“You believe he would risk getting caught for a serenade?” Hannibal said as the slick silk of their lips brushed against each other, light kisses chasing after the words.

“I believe he wants to show someone how well he plays.” Will murmured, losing himself in the damp heat and the taste of Hannibal‘s mouth.

“Whoever that poor bastard may be.”
oOo

Regrettably, Hannibal could not sleep the rest of the day away after putting the empath to bed. He had to leave his mate behind, sated and marked against cobalt blue silk sheets looking very much like some strange siren or nymph, another round of mating initiated by Will as soon his back hit the mattress. Hannibal had only been too happy to comply, leaving a sticky mess between Will‘s thighs.

Will’s willing submission and increasing sexual need almost made it worth the time spent sitting across from Franklin who was proving difficult to find a referral for. Apparently the man’s reputation of clinging to his therapist proceeded Franklin to an extent that Hannibal had not been unaware of, enough so that Hannibal was almost willing to start calling in favors and consider delving into blackmail if need be. If all less failed, Hannibal reasoned out that he could always kill Franklin, making it look like an accident. Suicide would call too much attention to him. That and Hannibal wanted to leave his field on a high note.

The next few words out of Franklin’s mouth made Hannibal grateful for all the delays. “Do you remember when I said that Tobias was saying very dark things.” Franklin jumped right into it, agitated enough to not even wait until Hannibal had sat down across from him to officially begin their session.

“I made note of it.” Hannibal said, overlooking the mild slight in courtesy as he took his seat. Franklin wasn’t worth the energy of dispatch or the effort of artistic creation in any form. The thought of eating Franklin actually made Hannibal slightly ill.

“Well he said he wanted to cut someone’s throat and play it like a violin.” Franklin babbled, practically wringing his hands in dramatics. “They found someone whose throat was cut and played like a violin.”

Hannibal grew still with realization as disgust rolled through him, his mask only conveying back mild concern and disbelief to Franklin. As stylish as Tobias’s presentation had been, showing real skill and motivation, the method of his message was a disgusting clutter, the work of an amateur. For someone who had nailed the routine, the dismount was sloppy enough for near complete dismissal.

“So you think that Tobias killed that man at the Symphony?” Hannibal asked, keeping his voice as neutral as possible while still tinting it around the edges of tone with some incredulity. Despite its inept messenger, Tobias’s communication had been delivered. It was now up to Hannibal on how to pay Franklin for his efforts. Luckily for everyone involved, the Beta wasn’t the sharpest knife in the kitchen. It wouldn’t take a lot to make Franklin doubt himself.

“I don’t know.” Franklin yelled, flinging his hands up before crumpling in on himself. “If I do, do I have to report it?” the Beta muttered, looking depressed and already doing most of the mental legwork for Hannibal.

“Do you have a reason not to?” Hannibal ventured, making it sound like such a concept would actually be a very foolish notion to consider.

“What if I’m wrong?” Franklin groaned, looking defeated and miserable about it. Hannibal bit back a grin.

“What if you’re right?” Hannibal threw out just to cover him own agendas. He could say that at the very least he tried to appeal to Franklin’s morality if this venture went south.

“I’m always wrong.” Franklin caved in on himself. “I don’t know. Why would he say something like that to me?”

“Why do you think?” Hannibal pressed, wanting to see where Franklin would take this under his own power.

“Cause he knows that I would tell you.” Franklin realized, his eyes going painfully wide with the knowledge. “Oh my god! I’ve put you in danger!”

“Hardly,” Hannibal told him calmly, resisting the urge to laugh. “But if you’d like, I can ask my mate Will to act on our behalf and look into the matter. I would need your permission to do so since it would be toeing the line of doctor/patient confidentiality. He could have the FBI discreetly question Tobias and he would be none the wiser of your involvement. That way if nothing is amiss, you can remain friends.”

Not that Hannibal cared about such things, but appearances were important. It gave the false impression of control to Franklin, like this was actually his decision.

“But what if something is….amiss?” Franklin swallowed hard, looking pale and nervous.

“Then it will be dealt with.” Hannibal told him, serenely so as he planned out tonight’s dinner with Will. This topic of conversation later on should prove to be most stimulating.

“One way or another.”

oOo
TBC

Chapter Text

“Refresh my memory. Why are we here without backup or any other form of law enforcement?”

Having just pulled up to Tobias’s string shop, Hannibal turned off the Bentley to regard his irate mate with a faked look of professional concern. “This inquiry is based on the notions of a habitual attention seeker who is infatuated with me. To have the FBI officially look into the matter would border on the breach of doctor/patient confidentiality.” he lied. Of course Franklin had been forthcoming with his permission, but Will didn’t need to know that. “I would be remiss in my responsibility to the investigation though if I didn’t bring this to your attention.”

Satisfied with Hannibal’s motivations, Will nodded with a sigh, much to Alpha’s inner delight. “Plus I need my harpsichord maintained and he is supposed to be the best.”

“I should have known.” Will rolled his eyes. “Very nefarious of you, Doctor Lecter. Forcing me to be sociable by running errands with you.”

“Not at all. Perhaps I just like having you at my side. Showing you off.” Hannibal allowed a slight smile to show on his lips. It was one that had sincerity and pride in it though. It made Will’s cheeks go red as the empath read the emotions loud and clear, the Omega ducking his head.

“People will start to question your sense of taste. I’m hardly the belle of the ball.” Will grumbled.

“No. More like a diamond in the rough.” Hannibal told his uncomfortable mate, pausing at the shop’s entrance to press a quick kiss to Will’s temple. It did nothing to alleviate the man’s discomfiture. Hannibal’s smirk was only seen by the door though as the two men entered the shop. A bell sounded lightly overhead, Hannibal silencing it instinctually out of habit, cursing himself as he did so. Will was looking at him with a strange expression. Luckily, inspiration and lies came quickly to Hannibal.

“I didn’t want him to stop playing.” Hannibal said easily, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the violin being played a room away. Will rolled his eyes at him, suspicions easing up for now.

Altered by their voices as low as they were, the violinist soon revealed himself. Both men went on their particular brand of guard, Will sliding on his glasses while Hannibal’s mask moved to portray something approachable.

“You’re Franklin’s therapist, Doctor Lecter.” Tobias Budge greeted. Will noticed that the Alpha pointedly ignored his presence. Atypical attitude of the ruling gender, but one that the Omega didn’t mind. It allowed him to obverse Tobias without his notice. “Nice to see you again.”

“Is it Tobias?” Will noted that Hannibal feigned ignorance well. He found it disconcerting to witness. Will shifted uneasily away from either Alpha, putting enough distance between them and himself to feel safe again, a ridiculous concept considering he could feel Hannibal moving around in the back of his mind, the Alpha‘s emotions muted but definitely there. The space placed between them had not gone unnoticed.

“Yes. We’ve met before.” Tobias was not pleased. The Alphas were circled one another. Whether they meant to do so or not, Will moved in tandem with them to avoid getting in the middle.

“Ah, yes. The opera.” Hannibal falsely recounted. “Let me reintroduce my mate then, Will Graham.”

Will tried not to flinch and failed at that when the two Alphas turned to look at him at once. He was being appraised by Tobias and if his expression was anything to go by, he found Will lacking in any appeal. That much was clear, observation aided by empathy or not.

“A pleasure to see you again.” Tobias said stiffly, dismissing Will with his next breath to turn his attention back to Hannibal.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Will mused, snorting softly to himself. He had been imitating a Beta for so long, too long, he had almost been able to forget how his gender was really treated. Heat and flame flickered on the edges of Will’s perception. It took him a moment to realize that he was feeling anger but not his own. He studied his mate to find nothing but blank slate for an expression, Hannibal giving nothing away on his face to what he was really feeling. If Will had to label anything to his Alpha outward appearance, it would only be mild curiosity as Hannibal studied the array of instruments around them, reaching out to pluck the strings of a fine looking cello.

“Your strings are all gut.” Hannibal observed, making the first move in this game of shadow and blades. For being such a careless fool, Tobias still managed to retain some sort of cleverness about him, the other killer picking up on the game.

“I also carry steel and polymer strings if you prefer.” Tobias offered, looking faintly amused. Will failed to see what was so funny about the exchange, his eyes darting from Alpha to Alpha.

“I prefer gut.” Hannibal said, studying the cello to pluck at its strings again. “Harps strung with gut still make music after two thousand years.”

There was something going on here. It was bugging the hell out of Will. He wasn’t sure if he liked Hannibal questioning a possible suspect, though the Alpha’s extensive knowledge of psychology was probably being used to its fullest advantage. Chiding himself, Will told his empathy to focus on Tobias instead of both. He could trust Hannibal to use all the tricks of his trade to either put Tobias at ease or unbalanced enough to give himself away. Whatever worked.

“I didn’t hear you ring the bell.” Tobias smiled, slow and wicked. It made Will’s skin crawl.

“I didn’t want you to stop playing. We thought it was lovely.” Hannibal shrugged like doing such a thing wasn’t unusual as he wandered further into the shop, Will and Tobias trailing after him. This room displayed rather fine grand piano at its center, its glossy surface polished to a mirror like sheen. Serial killer or not, Tobias appeared to have tidy nature and a dislike for dust. “Was it an original composition?”

“Something I’ve been working on. Writing in my spare time.” Tobias offered up in a manner that made Will border along anger, confusion, and shock as he read into it. This Alpha was flirting with his mate, right in front of him. “You compose?”

“I discover.” Hannibal deflected. When he moved to touch Will lightly on the shoulder, the Omega knew that Alpha had picked up on it as well. “Will is the one with any actual talent for instruments.”

“Really.” Tobias said flatly, not even bothering to make it a question. His face was fighting with itself not to sneer openly in incredulous disbelief. Will bit back the childish urge to stick out his tongue at the Alpha. Apparently, Tobias was very old school in his thinking about Omegas. Disgust aside, he probably was affronted by the fact Will was allowed to wear clothing and wasn’t chained to a bed somewhere to be used whenever his Alpha saw fit to do so.

“Yes. I can walk, talk, put on my shoes all by myself, and even play the piano.” Will sassed, unable to resist the opening. That earned him looks from both Alphas in varying degrees. Hannibal’s told him that they were here for a reason and to play along while Tobias looked like he wanted to gut Will on the spot for speaking back to him.

The Omega schooled himself to remain standing straight with his shoulders back even if he couldn’t manage the eye contact. He couldn’t afford to come off as weak in this Alpha’s presence, even as his own nature was screaming at him to submit, to crouch down deafeningly and bare his neck. A warm hand placed to the back of his neck relieved some of the tension that had been building up there as Hannibal moved to stand beside him, his long fingers tracing the marks there. The skin was still raised and a vivid pink, the healed over flesh sensitive, unhidden by a collar for once. Will forced himself to keep breathing evenly and focus on what was being said as Hannibal‘s touch and power soothed him.

“One can’t impose traditional composition on an instrument that’s inherently freeform.” Hannibal changed the subject with complete ease, like it was the most naturally thing in the world to do so. Will wondered if it came with being an Alpha, or if was just all Hannibal.

“What instrument would that be?” Tobias challenged, though his attention was being shifted away from Will back to Hannibal as his face lost its anger.

“The theremin.” Hannibal answered lightly, like it was obvious. Will found that he wouldn’t be surprised if one turned up at the house or that Hannibal could play it as well as he did everything else. “It can generate any pitch through its range.”

“Even those between conventional notes.” Hannibal made his move, drawing Tobias fully back into their verbal spar with double entendres.

“And so can a violin or a trombone.” Tobias jabbed back, looking too amused with himself. Hannibal felt disgust roll through him. He knew Will felt it too on some level, his mate shifting uneasily beneath his grip. Hannibal let Will go, sensing it was safe enough for him to do so for the both of them. It was too early for him to reveal himself as the Chesapeake Ripper just yet, and he couldn’t risk killing Tobias here, especially in front of Will, as tempting as it was to do so. Hannibal didn’t take threats or disrespect toward his mate lightly.

“It seems we are both comfortable playing between conventional notes then.” Hannibal mused aloud, going over to the piano to play a few notes. For some reason, that made Will amused, though Hannibal couldn’t risk finding out why at this point in the conversation. “I hear the symphony is looking for a new trombonist.”

“He just had to touch it.” Will thought to himself. Whether Hannibal realized what he was doing or not, the Alpha had the odd habit of touching objects that bordered on an OCD compulsion. As if his kitchen wasn’t evidence enough of that, Hannibal had the compulsion to evenly align papers, books, and other items on surfaces, or reach out an touch items if only for a second. Will labeled it the ‘boop’ compulsion, quietly adding the sound effect in his head whenever he witnessed it. He doubted that Hannibal would find that particular observation of his amusing.

“I heard about that. Horrible what happened to that poor man.” Tobias said, feigning enough properly placed emotion to pass for normal if Will wasn’t what he was. He saw pride shining behind those falsely spoken words.

“Not altogether. It’s unfortunate way to leave the symphony, yes…” Hannibal said, Will not liking his gallows humor though it reminded him of why they were here. Hannibal was playing his part in determining if Tobias was under any suspicion, though Will was tempted to come back just so that he could kick in the Alpha’s door with gun in hand. “…But I can’t help thinking that the orchestra will be better for it.”

“At least the brass section.” and didn’t Tobias look so pleased with himself. “So what brings you here looking for gut?”

“Gotcha.” Will thought. Jack was going to get an earful as soon as they left the shop. Now they just had to get out of here without tipping Tobias off.

“My harpsichord needs new strings. It’s making an awful sound.” Hannibal said easily. “Perhaps you can help.”

Will tried to remember if he had even seen one at the house. He knew there were a couple pianos of varying sizes that Hannibal seemed to use for decoration. The baby grand in the sunroom was Will’s favorite to play. Always in secret and always while Hannibal was absent, the Alpha attending some sort of social event that kept him out all night, sometime until the early hours of the morning. Having little experience with such things and even less knowledge about the lifetimes of the rich, Will couldn’t help up wonder what kind of party would keep one out until four or five o’clock in the morning. Will was only aware of the time because Hannibal would wake him in those odd hours by parting his legs open, his Alpha full of strange desire that felt more like hunger than lust. In those parts of night that were darkest before dawn, Will was fucked slow and sweet, his being languidly savored by his mate.

“But before I even consider employing your services, I would like Will to play.” were the words that snapped Will out of his pleasant revelry. Hannibal ignored his glare though and Tobias’s look of disbelief at such a suggestion. “I can’t have a man working on my own instruments if he can’t keep what he has on display in good repair.”

“Of course.” Tobias said rather grimly as if the very thought of an Omega touching his carefully cleaned displays was causing him physical pain. Will made no move to do so though. Being put on the spot was one thing but playing for other people was another matter entirely. Self taught, Will hoarded his skill to himself, his only other audience in the past his pack.

This was a rare gift he had given to himself, and one he did not share with other people. He had as of yet to perform for Hannibal though the Alpha had hinted heavily about it. For maneuvering him into a corner to get what he wanted, Will seriously considered leaving the shop, catching a cab, and letting Hannibal deal with the social fallout all by himself, even if it was rude. Volunteering him to perform was a worse offense in his mind.

The decision was made for Will when he saw Tobias’s smug expression in answer to his hesitation, though the Alpha was misinterpreting his pause for fear and lack of talent instead of righteous anger and stubbornness. They were all playing parts here and even if Hannibal was angling to get something that he wanted, Will realized for them to succeed, he had to get with the program.

Pointedly ignoring Hannibal and Tobias, though for entirely different reasons, Will seated himself on the bench, his fingers falling effortlessly into place upon the grand piano’s keys. A bittersweet Moonlight Sonata was drawn out of the instrument, the notes weeping sweetly from the loneliness and cold beauty of moonlight that resided in them.

If music could be seen as jewels, Will’s playing would be diamonds at the moment, all fire and ice. Hannibal sighed with pleasure, wishing that he could fully relax to enjoy this performance. He doubted he would get an encore any time soon, Will’s anger with him was felt in the back of his mind, their bond glowing faintly crimson from it.

Diamonds transformed into sapphire and ruby as Will switched songs, transitioning smoothly from one to the next to play some of Mozart’s lesser known, harder pieces to show off his dexterity and reach. It made Hannibal realized he would have to come up with a proper apology. He needed to experience this again in the privacy of their own home. Talent such as this should be appreciated, and even more so, rewarded. Alas, some matters at hand still needed to be attended to, Hannibal moving closer to speak in private with Tobias while Will played.

“I apologize for being so blunt Tobias but did you kill that trambonist?” Hannibal asked, keeping his voice pleasant but cast low. A glance over at Will told Hannibal that the empath was far too involved with his music to notice the conversation going on behind him.

“Do you really have to ask?” Tobias answered smugly, his entire being beaming with misguided pride.

“No. Just curious.” Hannibal said, keeping his own expression neutral. For having such talent, Tobias was not keen on enough subtlety for his liking.

“So you didn’t come here to ask me if I could restring your harpsichord?” Tobias smirked, believing he had won a move.

“Do you really have to ask?” Hannibal shot back easily enough with just the right amount of distain.

“Franklyn gave you my message.” Tobias said, looking proud about such an accomplishment, like he had actually done something clever. Hannibal gave the other Alpha a flat look back.

“The murder is being investigated by the FBI.” Hannibal pointed out, unimpressed by his fellow serial killer. It was droll to see the man think he had some sort of finesse. “They’re going to find you.”

“Let me.” Pride. Far too much of it for safety’s sake. Tobias’s sin was going to eat him alive and take anyone else within reach with it.

“You want to get caught?” Hannibal asked, already knowing the failing of his people. The problem with most serial killers is that they wanted some sort of recognition for their work. For all his precautions, Hannibal knew he even fell into this category as well, though what Tobias was doing was professional suicide.

“I want them to try.” Tobias said, his eyes upon Will’s back now. The Omega missed the look, too wrapped up in his playing. “They may investigate me because I own a string shop. They’ll send men to investigate me and I’ll kill them.”

Hackles rising, Hannibal’s face lost all of its faked warmth as his eyes turned cold and narrowed at the threat made to his mate. It was almost worth giving away the game to end Tobias right here and now. Hannibal reeled himself in enough to wait out Tobias’s next turn in the game between them.

“Then I will find Franklyn and kill him. Then I will disappear.” Tobias said with such assured confidence Hannibal wanted to flay the smug off of his face in little pieces.

“Are you planning on killing me as well?” Hannibal asked as casually as if they were talking about pricing for services.

“No.” Tobias said, looking as if he knew something Hannibal did not and was bursting at the seams to tell him. “Not anymore.”

“Why not? I’m lean and lean animals provide the toughest gut.” Hannibal played along. He had a guess to what Tobias was talking about.

“I’ve decided not to kill you after I followed you one night. Out of town. To a lonely road. To a bus yard.” Hannibal was not liking where this was going, feeling suddenly exposed. In his art, the act of creation was not meant for the viewing of others. It was for his pleasure alone. It was about as close to religion as he got and the only other convert he wanted in his own personal church was Will. Tobias’s admission made the kill he was talking about feel tainted now. Hannibal made a mental note to dispose of the particular meat as soon as they returned home. It wasn’t fit to eat now.

Hannibal did not let all his ire show, just enough to let the other Alpha guess that he was mildly displeased. This changed the game completely now though. He couldn’t have Will talking to another killer who knew his secret. His mate wasn’t ready for that kind of truth yet.

“I‘m not going to tell anyone what I saw you do and do well.” Tobias grinned, overconfident and over reaching. “But it does make me wonder if your pretty little Omega is aware of how talented you are?”

“You’re reckless, Tobias.” Hannibal shook his head, like this entire conversation was nothing to him, and Tobias’s indirect threat meaningless.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’. Shame. You deserve an audience. You have such a rare gift for it.” Tobias said, wallowing in the power he thought he held over Hannibal who could wait for him to discover just how shallow it was. “So It’s not my recklessness that concerns you.”

“It concerns me because you won’t be drawing attention just to yourself.” Hannibal cursed Tobias’s blatant peacocking now. Instead of playing his hand close to his chest, the fool was letting all the cards fall right out of his fingers.

“I could use a friend. Someone to help protect my interests…my hobbies, someone who can understand me, who thinks like I do, and who has the means to mislead the FBI.” Tobias said, revealing what he truly wanted from Hannibal. “We see the world and the people in it the same way. We could be together.”

“I know exactly how you feel.” Hannibal making his answer clear as his gaze locked onto his mate’s back for a moment before returning his full attention back to Tobias. “But I don’t want to be your friend.”

“This isn’t about restringing your harpsichord, is it?” Tobias all but growled out. He hadn’t been expected rejection, hadn’t even considered it an option. He was smart enough though to realize that Hannibal was here for a reason.

“Consider this a warning. If any harm comes to my mate, I will find you and I will kill you. I can promise you that it will take you a very long time to die. I will ensure your suffering until you beg for death. You are already well aware of my skill set in that area” Hannibal told him with an eerie sort of calm, the kind spiders held within them. “I don’t take threats or insults well, Tobias, and you are being quite rude. It would be in your best interests to simply disappear.”

“Disappear?” Tobias swallowed hard, like he was tasting the word and found it bitter. Both Alphas were working to keep their power under control as to not tip off Will to the feud going on behind him as his empathy got him lost further into the music. There was a reason Asperger’s had been mistakenly placed in the man’s file, his intent focus akin to the traits the autism spectrum disorder.

“A friendly bit of advice. Fake your own death. Leave the country. Whatever it takes.” Hannibal more commanded than suggested.

“And if I don’t?” Tobias’s face twisted as it fought to maintain a calm appearance.

Power played over Will’s shoulders, reminding Will that he was not alone and couldn’t not afford to wander in his own head, especially when something was going on right behind him. Glancing over his shoulder at his audience, Will enjoyed the look of shocked anger worn on Tobias’s face, though it could have been from something Hannibal had said. The two were apparently having a conversation behind his back in very sense of the phrase. Or an argument, he reassessed. He made a mistake by turning his head to view Hannibal, almost faltering in his finger work for it. Looking back directly at him, his mate appeared ready to bend him over the piano and have his wicked way with Will.

The exchange, whatever it had been about, was interrupted by Will ceasing to play, the Alphas putting their masks back into place as Will rose off of the bench.

“Your E-flat is off,” Will told Tobias in a dry tone, making it clear that he was unimpressed. “And your pedals need tightening.”

“Thank you for letting me know. It would seem I have been remiss in my upkeep.” Tobias managed out through clenched teeth, barely keeping up with a polite appearance.

“What a shame. We’ll keep you in mind if we do not find anyone else better.” Hannibal said, taking Will‘s arm to start leading them out of the shop. Tobias looked unstable enough to do something unfortunate. As entertaining as it might be to set the man off, Hannibal wanted Will safe and out of the line of fire.

“Thank you for your time.”

OoOoO

“What was that all about?” Will asked as soon as they were safely in the car and on the road again.

“We were discussing prices for his sort of service. His fee was ridiculous high though. I was attempting to talk him down from it in the form of some friendly advice. Unfortunately by doing so, I insulted him.” Hannibal simplified, keeping to a part of the truth. At the moment, Will was too focused on his answer to try for an all out lie.

“Well you know have to worry about that for long. He’s our guy. I’m going to give Jack a call.” Will snorted, already pulling out his phone to do so.

“Would you hold off for the time being?” Hannibal asked, his mind moving quickly in planning. He would have to eliminate Tobias by this evening.

“Why?” Will’s answer was incredulous.

“I have one last patient to give a referral to.” Hannibal said. It was almost funny that Franklin would be useful for once, and that he was being surprisingly honest about that part. He didn’t need to add that he planned on stopping by Tobias’s shop on the way home, and murdering the man.

“And why should that matter?” Will was being to get anxious as a hound before a hunt. He had caught wind of the fox. Now all he had to do was chase down his quarry.

“I wish to be present with you when you return to question Mr. Budge. I also want us to be sure that he is the right suspect.” Hannibal said. “We have to have responsibility for what we presume.”

“He all but admitted to the murder.” Will snapped, giving his mate a hard look. “He’s practically glowing with pride from it.”

“Yes, but if we are wrong, the accusation would be a disservice to him and a blow upon his business if it got out. Tobias might not be the most polite individual, but if he is innocent he doesn’t deserve to have his life ruined.” Hannibal countered.

“That’s not how this job works. To an extent, we can’t worry about things like that, not when there is killer out there turning people into instruments. Not when we have someone fits the profile for the killer so perfectly. Concern for someone’s feelings and polite overtures is not always an option.” Will said, falling into his teacher voice like he was giving a lecture to some new meat trainees. “Sometimes it’s better to take a risk and kick in doors. You can apologize for being wrong later.”

“I realize I still have much to learn about what the FBI and you do, but could you please wait just a little while longer.” Hannibal asked again, working to keep command and power out of his tone. Will would not react well to either. Hannibal decided emotional manipulation and guilt would far better serve his purposes.

“You don’t trust me…” Will’s expression darkened, getting ready for a fight.

“It’s not about trust” Hannibal interrupted, heading off the issue before it could find its legs. “I want to be there with you. For you, beloved.”

“You’re worried about me.” Will amended. He wasn’t sure if that was any better. Hannibal’s devotion to him was still a new thing to embrace, almost too surreal for Will to believe it actually existed all for him.

“Of course I am. What you do is dangerous, and not just mentally. You care for your body like you care for your mind.” Hannibal pressed. “With very little regard for either.”

“I’ve managed to survive this long without you.” Will grumbled, but he could feel himself beginning to lose the war, at least outwardly. Omega tendencies aside, it was touching to have someone in his life that cared so much about his well being.

“Will…” Hannibal said softly, almost pleading.

“Fine. You have a day. Then I tell Jack. You better hope that Tobias doesn’t kill anyone else while we sit on this.” Will focused as keeping himself as even as possible, to keep from giving himself away. The growing guilt in his stomach soured it, making it twisted painfully, but was kept down there out of his head. As much as the bond gave him away, Will was getting good at keeping some parts of himself hidden within it.

“You will be free to do so by this evening. My appointment with Franklin is this afternoon. I‘ll drop you off at the house” Hannibal offered, feeling pleased with himself. He enjoyed it when a problem was resolved.

“The house. I have some grading to catch up on. Might as well get it done while I can.” Will lied, hating himself for it even more so when Hannibal smiled over at him, the kind of smile that was only meant for him and him alone. The thing about emotions was that with no context, they could be read so many different ways. Will’s guilt could easily be misconstrued for his own self loathing, his unease could be equated to having to read so many poorly written term papers. He felt nauseous when they pulled up to the house, and Hannibal kissed him good bye.

Will was on the phone with Jack as soon as the Bentley was out of sight.
OoOoO
TBC

Chapter Text

Apparently a suspicion that didn’t pertain to the Chesapeake Ripper could only get Jack to send two police officers out with Will who prayed it would be enough manpower to take Tobias in, that he would the reasonable kind of serial killer that turned himself in when the cops came to question him. It was wishes made with wasted breath, the Omega realizing it as soon as words ’we kept those details out of the press’ left his mouth.

“A richer, darker sound allows music to say what words can’t.” caused the ravenstag to appear out of nowhere, visibly starling Will enough to make everyone in the room stare at him. All conversation came to an abrupt halt as he followed the creature outside without any given reason. He was well aware his departure earned him strange looks for all gathered there in the shop, Will vaguely hearing Tobias ask “Something wrong?” in his parting. It was like a warning of fate to him, a dying animal’s cry in the snow covered street outside.

The ravenstag stood before Will, the empath shocked into silence seeing it so clearly outside of his own head space, though no one else reacted to its presence. The odd looks he was getting from people passing by was proof enough of that. Looking back to his strange company, Will found the ravenstag gone like it had never been.

Upon his return, Will found one of the two police officers already dead, a metal rod protruding from his neck as he bled out the last of his life into the hardwood. Fighting down panic and fear as he radioed the situation in, Will prepared himself to hunt down Tobias, the killer having the home field advantage. Will knew there would be a basement, the string shop known as Chordophone the murderer’s base of operation, found the door to a hidden Hell easily enough.

Taking in even breathes to calm the quick pacing of his rabbit heart, Will went inward for a moment. He couldn’t afford being distracted or alerting Hannibal to his situation. It would only make the Alpha worry or do something rash. There was also the very real possibility that Will might die here in Tobias‘s basement, and that would cause Hannibal great suffering. Their bond was too far along to avoid such a thing, but Will reasoned out that he could try to lessen the effect of his demise.

Curling long inhuman fingers formed by mist and foxfire, strengthened and sharpened by pure will, the empath found the edges of his mindscape where they merged with Hannibal’s own, and pulled it all back like his land and sea were a sheet on a bed. He rendered what he could, tearing it all apart to push it back into himself as far as it would go.

Feeling much like a punch to the gut that winded him, the resulting sensation from this suffered like a fissure in his skull, the Omega feeling bereft without his Alpha’s pieces to hold it all together in place. He could barely feel Hannibal, though the Alpha’s shock and echoing pain made Will want to curl in on himself. That wasn’t an option with Tobias lurking somewhere beneath. Will knew if he didn’t go looking for the deranged Alpha that Tobias would come and find him. Will remembered the man’s hatred for him and his gender well.

Aware of how unbalanced he felt and essentially the walking wounded, Will plunged himself forward into danger, entering the basement alone with his firearm in hand.

OoOoO

“Nine.”

“Nine times.”

“I can count on two hands the number of times I’ve been dumped by a psychiatrist.”

Franklin was not taking his referral well.

That much was obvious. Hannibal couldn’t bring himself to even really feign the proper emotions, looking dispassionately back at Franklin as the Beta fumed at him. As it was, he was finding it hard enough to focus on anything Franklin was saying, but not for the usual reasons.

There was an itch in the back of his head, an odd mixture of fear and guilt with an emphasis on the former. Will was doing something other than grading bad papers, partaking in some action that he knew Hannibal wouldn’t approve of, and it was enough to distract Hannibal. It didn’t take a lot of mental legwork to assume that Will was contacting Jack about Tobias.

Summoning up the ravenstag was an easy enough matter, the strange beast appearing before Hannibal in their shared mindscape. “Go and remind Will of his promise.” Hannibal told the ravenstag, the creature dipping its horned head to him before taking off.

The ravenstag returned sooner than he would have liked but before he could focus on it, Hannibal ended up gasping aloud. The pain in his head was intense, making him fall a bit forward in his chair when his mind was torn into without any warning. There was a gaping wound inside the bone confines of his skull, the walls of his mind palace shaking from the force of it as the rupture grew.

Shuddering from the shock of it and feeling a numbness beginning to spread from him extremities inward, Hannibal realized belated just how much of effect the bond had upon him. Its sudden absence made it that all the more apparent. Something must have happened. Will wasn’t supposed to have this kind of control with the bond though, not yet, at least not over him, but here he was, gasping for air at the implausibility of it all.

“Doctor Lector…are you alright? Are….are you crying?” Through the haze and the agony of loss, he could hear Franklin stammering out his concern. Having no idea how long he had been in such an unresponsive state, Hannibal touched his fingers to his face just under his eyes, pulling them back to see the tips moistened with his own salt water. Franklin had been correct in his assessment, his face wet with tears. Hannibal wondered how long he had been crying. He didn’t remember ever starting.

“Is something wrong? Did I do something?” the Beta continued to babble as if he mattered.

“Be quiet.” Hannibal ordered in a tone made more harsh by his accent, looking inwardly to confirm his growing fear, the unfamiliar sensation of it souring his insides to rot. It was all gone, a void where Will’s fields and ocean had once been though all the roads remained, those pathway hanging in midair like an unearthed vegetable‘s root system. Hannibal had no idea what that meant in regard to their bond, the pathways hovering over an abyss.

“Tobias?‘ filtered through Hannibal’s skull, drawing him back to the real world from his state of shock.

“Tobias!” Franklin’s surprised cry alerting Hannibal that they were no longer alone in his office, his survival instinct kicking him out of his own head, and into high alert. Quickly dried his tears, Hannibal rose from his seat to confront the Alpha who dared to enter his office covered in other people’s blood. By the looks of it, part of his ear had been shot off by someone. Hannibal hoped it was Will who had pulled the trigger.

Scents lingered around Tobias. Most were unrecognizable, but Will’s was definitely there among them. Tobias had gotten close enough to Will for some transfer, meaning that this deranged Alpha had touched his mate, his Will. The one he couldn’t feel anymore in his own head.

“I came to say goodbye, Franklin.” Tobias said in a grand enough manner Hannibal was confident that the killer was setting his escape plan into motion. He was here for Franklin, to end the Beta before disappearing.

“What do you mean goodbye?” Franklin started to say, a bit slow on the uptake as he took in Tobias’s appearance. “Oh my god, oh my god! Is that your blood?!”

Tobias answered the question but chose to look directly at Hannibal while doing so. “I just killed two men. The police came to question me about the murder.” he said with gravitas.

All the rest of what was happening around him resulted in sounding like white noise to Hannibal as Tobias and Franklin continued to carry on their conversation. Ignoring the empty sickness that began to seep in under his skin, Hannibal stared back at Tobias with a carefully maintained void expression, his mind quickly reconstructing events he had been absent for.

Will had called Jack. Jack had sent Will done to the music shop to confront Tobias. The fact Tobias was here now, talking to them, meant that Jack had sent Will with too few people, essentially to his death.

Jack would be dealt with later. For now, Tobias was his enemy in every sense of the word and his mate’s murderer. His death belonged to Hannibal, the Alpha’s new purpose in life driving him forward to snap Franklin’s neck without hesitation. The Beta was simply too much in his way and needed to be eliminated.

“I was looking forward to that.” Tobias had the audacity to look taken aback by Hannibal’s action.

“I saved you the trouble.” Hannibal’s words tasted like ash in his own mouth, making him wonder if Tobias’s death would hold any flavor to him. He wondered if anything would again.

OoOoO

It was finished.

Tobias was dead.

All that was left was to access his wounds and make his plans to depose of Jack. Sitting at his desk, Hannibal found he lacked the energy to care for himself though. He had already waved off the attending EMT, not wanting to be touched by anyone at the moment, going so far as to frighten the concerned medical professional away with sharp words and enough power to even shake a Beta to their core. The display was enough to keep the team of FBI forensics at a respectable distance from him, the men and woman gathering and cataloging evidence doing so on quietly on tiptoe around where Hannibal sat.

His senses made Hannibal wearily lift his head, another unwelcome Alpha entering his territory, Jack’s power a brooding cloud of anger all around him a dead giveaway. With it came something unexpected though. A fevered sweetness, one laden with peaches, white flowers, and sun warmed honey bourbon, daring Hannibal to hope, to believe in impossibilities.

When Will entered the room, very much alive and as far as Hannibal could tell, relatively unharmed, it took all of Hannibal’s control to keep himself seated in place. His leg was too wounded for any more sudden actions now that the perks of adrenalin and survival had worn off, and he couldn’t afford to show weakness in front of another Alpha, especially one that was seeking any reason to possess his Omega.

Stepping into the room carefully to navigate around the working techs, Will’s gaze flitted about, taking in all the details as his wonderful mind reconstructed what had just occurred here. Hannibal knew that Will was reading every punch and kick thrown, every blow exchanged, every impromptu weapon used in desperation. Will’s hesitation to approach him told Hannibal that the empath thought that he was angry with him, perhaps even expected a punishment of some sort. In what felt like a lifetime in the space of a few minutes, Will finally came near him, nervously edging toward Hannibal to lean against the edge of his desk.

“I thought you were dead.” Hannibal whispered before Will could say anything, his wounds and pain all but forgotten in Will‘s presence. His mate, his Will, stood before him. Dirty, covered in sweat and other people’s blood, but very much alive. All he could do was take Will’s hands in his own, Will flinching as he did so, expecting pain. Hannibal surprised them both by bowing his head until his forehead rested against their interwoven fingers. “I thought you were dead.” he whispered again. “It felt like you were.”

“I shut down the thinking of it. I thought I was going to die. I didn’t want to drag you into my world, especially if it suddenly ended.” Will murmured, reopening the bond between them. It felt good to do so. It felt right to do so as the Alpha and Omega breathing a sigh of relief together.

“We can traverse it together. Don’t ever do that again. I would rather experience your death, than your nothingness.” Hannibal pressed his lips to the back of Will’s hands, the left one bandaged poorly. He could allow himself this much. He wouldn’t break down in front of all these people but he could do this. The bond was like a meteor shower in Hannibal’s mind, shining and shimmering as the reality of it there reasserted itself. His mind palace was surrounded once again by Will’s brooding landscape.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve never been….” Will whispered, losing the words for it. He had hurt Hannibal. It had been unintentional, but he had done that to this man, this beautiful Alpha who was kissing his fingers and the backs of Will‘s hands like he was most precious thing in existence. The weight of it hit Will hard. He was in a bond, and not just any sort of bond. He had a soul mate, him of all people. He entirely belonged to someone, and owned that someone back just as completely

Oblivious of other people’s epiphanies, Jack stood watching them, and all Will wanted to do was growl at the agent for interloping on their moment. Jack was never one for take hints though.

“Tobias Budge killed two Baltimore police officers, nearly killed a FBI special agent, and after all that, his first stop was here, at your office.” Jack said, his tone low and thoughtful and just bordering on accusatory. “Your office of all places, instead of escaping while he had the chance.”

“He came here to kill my patient.” Hannibal answered as he made himself look up, but refused to let go of Will’s hands who made no move to take them back.

“Your patient. Is that who Budge was serenading?” Will asked gently. Now that their bond was fully reestablished, he could feel how much pain Hannibal was in, both mentally and physically. Compounded by the effect of a blown ear drum, it was making him nauseous and frightened. He wanted to go home and the two of them curl up in their bed under the covers, hiding from the world for a bit until everything hurt less.

“I don’t know. Franklyn knew more than he was telling me. He seemed to at least when he spoke to Mr. Budge.” Hannibal said tiredly, the amount of fuck given very similar to Will’s own. He felt as tired and done with the day as Hannibal looked. “He broke Franklin’s neck and then he attacked me.”

“You killed him.” Jack said the words slow, trying to infer and imply different meanings in them.

“Yes….” Hannibal admitted in a quiet voice as he reassessed everything now that Will was alive and real again to him. Jack’s death would have to be put on the back burner for now.

“Could Franklin have been in on whatever Budge was doing?” Will ventured, freeing one of his hands from Hannibal so that he could brush a lock of Alpha’s hair back out of his eyes. Hannibal’s perfectly coifed hair was a mess, fluffy and sticking out. The ashen locks were soft to Will’s touch released from its gel hold, Hannibal leaning into Will’s hand. There was blood on Hannibal’s lips as well, and bruising already forming along his nose, cheekbones, and forehead. He would be lucky if he didn’t have two black eyes come next morning. He looked like hell. Will thought that Hannibal had never looked more handsome, covering in wounds and victory.

“I have no idea. I thought this was simple matter of poor choice in friends.” Hannibal sighed. This game of killers had not turned out well. This all could have been avoided if Franklin had been easier to refer, Tobias less reckless, and Will more patient. All things considered though, he could say he wasn’t bored. It wasn’t often he got to kill one of his own. It held a certain thrill to it, knowing that he was the better predator.

“This doesn’t feel simple to me.” Jack rumbled. “You’re going to have to…”

“Jack!” Will interrupted, turning sharply to place himself in front of Hannibal, glaring at the agent. If Jack thought for a hot second that Hannibal and him were going to go down to the bureau to give any sort of statement in this condition, he was in for a world of disappointment.

“It’s procedure.” Jack snapped, surprised by Will’s sudden defiance. The people around them flinched as Jack’s power sprung up like a slap to the face. Will and Hannibal were the only two remaining unaffected by it. It was answered by Will’s own, startling enough more in its viciousness than its strength to make even Jack step away from the pair in surprise.

“It can wait. You’ve got your killer.” Will growled out, his docile nature all but gone in his sudden fury and need to protect his mate. He wanted to lunge at Jack, tear the man’s throat out with his teeth, but was kept in place by Hannibal’s hand on his back and the Alpha’s whispers for calm in his mind. “Beverly and the others are going to have field day with Budge’s basement.”

“In a manner of speaking.” Jack said, gesturing to the body bags. He found that he couldn’t move toward Will or Hannibal, the mated couple working together to keep him at bay while not setting off the rest of the room. He could do that much at least to prove that he had some sort of control left over the situation. “This isn’t up for debate.”

“While we are all down there, you can explain why you sent me to Budge’s without proper backup.” Will fumed in place, Hannibal the only thing holding him back.

“There wasn’t enough evidence at the time to merit it…” Jack started to say be cut off by Will whose voice rose with disgusted anger, drawing unwanted attention to them.

“Since when does that seem to matter? If this case had been about the Chesapeake Ripper, you would have been down there personally locked and loaded with a whole SWAT team for backup.” Will all but yelled. “But no. You send me instead, a teacher with a gun and a temporary badge, along with two cops who could have given two shits less about what was going on, and now we have four more bodies. All because you wouldn’t listen to me, your head wrapped too tightly around the Ripper case to care about anything less. While you had your thumb up your ass, Hannibal was fighting for his life, taking another‘s in self defense. We all failed today, Jack. Even you. Especially you.”

Empathy could be a weapon, Will’s words not chosen at random, his intention to wound the man. The verbal blows fell hard, each one hitting their mark with a precision that Hannibal could only admire. Pride curled through their bond, warming it from within as Jack appeared to hollow out as his anger left him in a rush, the agent looking gray and faded around his edges.

“Go home. I’ll see you both first thing in the morning.”

OoOoO

Nervously driving the Bentley, Will took Hannibal home. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, to refrain from glancing over at the wounded Alpha in the seat beside him, Hannibal was all but motionless except for his even breathing. Will didn’t know if he was asleep but he doubted it. The bond was like a live wire through both their heads now, somehow more present than before. No, he knew that Hannibal was very much awake and keeping a steady pressure to the wound in his leg, citing he would stitch himself up when they returned home, and do a better job of it.

Arriving to the house without incident and with an arm wrapped around Hannibal to help keep him upright, a trial of too many stairs and rooms was painful for them both, the pair relieved as they finally entered their bedroom. Motioning down to his leg, Hannibal directed Will to guide him into the bathroom.

“Do you want me to cut those pants off of you?” Will offered to receive a frosty look from Hannibal, who settled himself on the spacious rim of the tub and took off his shoes.

“Yes, because you don’t have another plaid suit just like it.” Will added, putting the footwear away for him among the wealth of proof there.

“I think my attire has been abused enough for today.” Hannibal winced as he unbuckled his belt, stiffly lifting his hips to slide his slacks and underwear off all in one go so he wouldn’t have to repeat the action. A good long hot soak was needed. All while Will was near him being held close Hannibal decided as he carefully leaned over to start filling the tub.

“Let me help. I can do that much.” Will said, guilt riding his actions as he placed the ruined clothing into the hamper. He was waved off from helping Hannibal strip down completely though, Hannibal telling him to go retrieve his medical kit.

Finding the black leather satchel easily enough in Hannibal’s closet, Will discovered its contents to be most impressive and very well stocked for something kept around the house as Hannibal sorted out through what he needed. He guessed it came from being a former surgeon, much like how a mechanic would have the tools of his trade lying around the house.

Sitting on the cool tile floor by Hannibal’s side, Will watched his mate work on himself, administering local anesthesia to start stitching his own flesh back together. Will could only watch for so long though, Hannibal’s lack of emotion while he placed even stitches in place not sitting well with Will. His focus turned elsewhere to escape.

Hannibal’s legs were long, slender things much like how a dancer’s would be in tone and build. Sculpted thighs and calves ended in surprisingly delicate looking ankles. Without thinking about what he was doing, Will ran his hands over the smooth knobs of the joints, taking off Hannibal’s socks as he did so to reveal long thin feet. Mended now or not, he didn’t want to look at the wound in Hannibal’s right leg, much like seeing a slash in a painting, or red paint thrown on rare fur.

Letting his gaze travel upward, Will noticed that Hannibal’s collared dress shirt was unbuttoned so that it hung open, revealing the plain undershirt beneath. All those layers of cotton, silk, and wool made to protect him, a modern day version of armor. To keep something in or keep everything out was the question that lingered in Will‘s head as the day replayed itself. Revealed musculature was firm from use, the Alpha’s body a well oiled, care for machine. It held a mystery in its surface though, Hannibal’s body covered in scars, thin white lines that pinned stories into the man‘s skin.

“I should bathe.” Hannibal sighed, finishing up his own treatment as he sealed a waterproof bandage over the stitching for now to keep it dry. The bruising would have to heal on its own. He would increase his vitamin E and C intake to help compensate his immune system while he was in the process of healing.

“You should sleep. I can change the sheets in the morning.” Will told him, his fingers running over the fine bones and wiry muscles of Hannibal’s feet. He wanted to be close, but wasn’t sure what was allowed now.

“Will….” Hannibal said softly, studying his mate. Will sat near him, pressing up close to his legs, yet refused to meet his eyes again with his own.

“I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.” Will whispered to Hannibal’s toes, all the little piggys there neatly pedicured. “I could have waited…”

“Yes. Why didn’t you?” Hannibal asked, placing his hand on Will’s head to let his finger sink into the soft curls there.

“I don’t know.” Will mumbled, bowing his head under the weight of his mate’s palm.

“You’re lying.” Hannibal said, letting his hand slide down to grip the back of Will’s neck. That proved to be a mistake. Perturbed, Will looked up at Hannibal with wide eyes, suddenly realizing the vulnerability of his submissive positioning. He hadn’t even noticed he had placed himself there at an Alpha’s feet, following his base Omega instincts to surrender to his mate.

Fear.

Fast and deadly as riptide, Will’s mind, his entire being, was caught in its pull and the undertow was beginning to drag Hannibal under. He hadn’t felt fear like this, in such great amount since…

…..Mischa…..

Hannibal’s mind rebelled. He didn’t want to think about his beginning, his becoming. He wasn’t ready to show Will that part of his life, his tragic childhood, and essentially what was his second birth. At the moment, Hannibal wasn’t capable of handling Will’s reaction…his rejection.

“Hannibal?!” He could hear Will trying to talk to him, make sense of what was happening but they were both being crushed under the weight of Will’s price for his gift. Pulling Will into his arms, Hannibal looked for escape inward, taking Will with him as they fell back into the tub. He could feel their bodies settling safely enough with heads well above water there.

They had much to discuss.

OoOoO

Opening his eyes, Will found himself standing in a garden. It looked like something out of a fairy tale. It even had a castle in the background and high stone walls to border it. The grounds were an island of nature in a much larger sea of dark stone, a grove of mixed wood filled with ancient oaks, silvery birch, fragrant spruce, and flowering linden surrounded by the rest of the palace made of black marble. Will knew it was Hannibal‘s headspace, had wandered here and there into the structure but never this far as Will walked down manicured cobblestone pathways.

As far as Will could tell, the garden was more herbal than floral, filled with rosemary, heather, and thyme, not that was any surprise to Will. The only reason he recognized so many specimens was because of Hannibal and his love for fresh ingredients. Most of what grew in this garden was being cultivated in their dining room wall.

Will found his way out of the garden easily to find himself walking into a maze of hallways and rooms he quickly lost count of. Each new space he entered though was more beautiful than the last, every room themed and filled to its edges with artwork or what looked to be a life experience. Connected by hallways and staircases that belonged more in a M.C. Escher drawing, Will viewed sculptures from the Louvre in one room to find himself tripping into a Parisian bakery in the next.

While all of this was stunning in its complexity and overall beauty, the palace was empty of any other life, most noticeably Hannibal. At the rate he was going, Will knew he would never find Alpha here if he truly didn‘t desire it. Trying to go back the way he came to have the garden as some sort of reference point, Will found the rooms had already rearranged themselves. He was good and truly lost for now.

“Hannibal?” Will called out to hear his voice echo in the tunnel of hallways, making the palace sound as empty as it felt. To his surprise and relief, he was answered back but not by the one he wanted to hear from most. The ravenstag entered the room he was it, a place filled with nothing but Fabergé eggs displayed on tiny, delicate spun glass tables which were really kind of freaking him out. Its hooves clicked loudly on intricate mosaic tile that looked Byzantium in design for now, the creature somehow managing not to topple anything over.

“Hello there.” Will greeted it to have the creature dip its horned head in greeting back. He still didn’t know how he should feel about this animal or what it represented to them, but it seemed his best bet for finding Hannibal at the moment. “I don’t suppose you can take me to Hannibal?”

The ravenstag made no move to do so though, the beast staring down at Will with dark fathomless eyes made of ink and starlight.

“Please?” Will added. The magic word seemed to motivate the ravenstag, the creature moving off to an entranceway Will was positive hadn’t been there a moment ago. Down darkened hallways lined with portraits of people Will didn’t know, he followed the ravenstag out onto a balcony that held a sole occupant much to Will’s relief.

Leaning against the carved stone railing, Hannibal looked out onto the landscape that lay outside of his palace, studying the mist that drifted across scrub fields before wandering white tendrils lost into the forest’s depths. Dressed immaculately in a light blue three piece suit with pale yellow detailing, his mate was completely healed here which made sense considering they were in their own heads. Or not, Will considered. This was a strange thing between them. He knew their bond was unusual, that this place shouldn’t exist or at the very least, he shouldn’t be here in it.

Unsure if he should approach or not, Will looked to the ravenstag for some sort of hint to find the nightmare creature gone. Swallowing hard, Will gathered up his courage as he crept toward Hannibal to stand near him. As of yet, the Alpha had chosen not to acknowledge him though Will could feel him register his presence.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me or what I am. I can’t hurt you. Not anymore. Not ever.” Hannibal said, breaking the held silence between them to speak low. He kept his eyes looking outward onto the fields.

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what I have seen.” Will said just as softly back.

“I have an idea.” Hannibal said, nodding down.

Will look down, over the balcony, and into the fields of his own mind below. Corpses hung in trees there. Will recognized them all. They were every victim he had ever laid eyes upon, swaying in the winds of the bone forest. Most were Omegas brutally killed by their Alphas. Some were twisted into odd poses from broken bones. Some were missing their skin, parts of their faces bitten off or their necks gnawed down to ruined meat. Others were bruised, beaten to death. Others still were carved up, made unrecognizable, identified by their teeth. All were dead and done, but not forgotten. They lived on as scars upon Will’s psyche, his own personal legion of ghosts to keep him company in the hell of his own making.

Looking away to watch his knuckles begin to whiten from the strain of gripping the railing too hard, Will tried his hand at breathing to keep from passing out if that was even possible while in one’s own head. His damages were showing, all the cracks of his sanity bleeding through for Hannibal to witness. The Alpha would find out just how sick Will was at his core, the evil that he was bonded to, and Will would know and feel his mate’s disgust on every level alongside his own. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to carry both, Will watching as his hands began to shake even while clinging to stone like it were a lifeline.

His fear was making him fluid, Will feeling like he was melting into his own misery so Will bodily shuddered when he felt strong arms wrap around him, holding him close to someone solid, taking on his weight, all of it for once.

“My parents were soul mates. I realize now it was a blessing that they died together. I have never felt so barren before.” Will heard the words rumble through him from Hannibal’s chest. He looked up to find Hannibal studying him with those strange maroon eyes of his. Guilt and self loathing guiding him on either side, Will could feel himself losing his sanity quicker than he would have liked. Strangely enough, all he saw in Hannibal was stability and steadfast mooring.

“I’m sorry.” Will whispered, not knowing what else to say. He was desperate in the way the drowning were, grasping at passing bubbles. His hands found rich material to dig his fingers deep into instead. Will clung to Hannibal and to his shame….to his relief….the Alpha let him.

“You don’t need to be.” Hannibal told him gently, resting his chin against dark curls to sway in place. “You never need to be with me.”

“You could have died.” Will felt the words choking him.

“You say that like your own death would be meaningless. Like it wouldn‘t be felt.” Hannibal sighed out hurt and longing all in one breath. It turned to anger when Will shrugged his words off, his grip upon the Omega becoming tight as his fingers dug in hard enough to bruise if this were real. Will looked up, startled into attentiveness. Making himself let go enough to reach up, Hannibal stroked Will’s face with the back of his knuckles, ignoring the Omega’s flinch.

“Look what you’ve done to me.” Hannibal whispered, stroking Will’s face with the back of his knuckles until his mate stopped trembling under his touch. Without even really trying, Will had made him into a monster who could love. He wasn’t supposed to, not really. Hannibal could appreciate, he could be devoted, but he wasn’t supposed to be able to love. He found it disquieting. To think of all the terrible things he was going to do to keep that love, the lengths to which he would go. “Can you even begin to fathom what you mean to me?”

Not knowing how to answer but wanting to erase the hurt and confusion he found in those peculiar sanguine eyes that reminded him of old blood gone bad, Will leaned in to place a kiss to Hannibal’s lips. Dry skin rasping silken, it began chastely enough, but deepened the longer it lingered, Will feeling himself being pulling in close again where he needed to be.

The only place where he truly belonged.

OoOoO
TBC

Chapter Text

In spite of his very clear instructions on the matter, it came as little surprise for Hannibal to find Will already in Jack’s office. As per his agreement with the FBI in exchange for Will’s services, the empath not supposed to be allowed out in the field or left alone with another Alpha(i.e. Jack Crawford) without Hannibal there.

Though he had flexible up to a certain point in the past about this for his own reasons and certain advantages, Hannibal didn’t like that the rules were being broken by someone else other than him, especially after the Tobias Budge incident. Sensing his Alpha’s ire through their bond, Will knew this as soon as Hannibal entered the room, the Omega sinking lower into his seat when Hannibal fixed a cool look upon him. He chose not to say anything until later when they were alone. Aware of the other Alpha in the room, Hannibal was unwilling to give Jack any ground to gain leverage upon.

The agent was looking for any loophole to take Will from him by any means possible. It didn’t help that Will was constantly being emotionally black mailed into undermining efforts to protect him. Hannibal had already spent too long picking the other Alpha’s mental hooks out of Will, fixing the damage done by them. He was not one to waste time and effort on projects or see them ruined by other people.

Setting aside the issue for now, Hannibal went over to the evidence board instead to look at the smiling faces of dead girls, eleven in all now. Ten had disappeared without a trace. There was one anomaly though with the eighth, Elise Nichols. She had been left in her bed for her parents to find, returned to her home by her killer for reasons yet unknown.

“I don’t know what you expect from me, Jack. You know I need more than just pictures to work with. I’m not psychic. My kind of weird only goes so far.” Will said in frustration from where he was seated, throwing the battered case file back on Jack’s desk. The agent had passed it off a while ago to Will, but there had been very little that he could do with it. His type of talent was more ‘hands on’.

“You must be getting something though. You can empathize with sociopaths and psychopaths. Tell me what kind he is.” Jack pressed, leaning in to look over his folded hands at Will like that was going prompt the man’s brain work faster for him.

“I can empathize with anyone.” Will snapped back, his frustration a tangible thing in Hannibal‘s head. While Will hid in the woods to avoid confrontation, the fields that lay between them in their shared mindscape grew stormy, wind whipping up the pale grass there. “It has less to do with a personality disorder than an overactive imagination.”

“So use it. We have nothing to go on. No bodies, no parts of bodies, nothing that comes out of bodies. Nothing.” Jack argued. The agent was as impatient as ever, this case beginning to wear him down thin. Jack Crawford was a man who was tired of killers eluding him. He was beginning to feel mocked by them.

“Except for one. One that was returned for the most part whole.” Hannibal pointed out, tapping the board. He mentally nudged his mate, sending a wave of calm toward him like a sun breaking through the clouds, watching as Will breathed out in relief from it outwardly and inwardly as their fields grew green again.

They had become more in synch with each other since their near death experiences at the hands of Tobias Budge. It had prompted both Alpha and Omega to accept their Bond mentally, though each in their own unique way and on different levels. Physically speaking, Hannibal‘s leg was mostly healed with only a thin scar as a reminder, the Alpha still walking with a slight limp that he assured Will would go away over time. Though the wounds in his hand had healed cleanly thanks to Hannibal’s expert care, Will’s ruptured eardrum was taking longer, his hearing still a bit off from it.

“Yes, all except for Elise Nichols. I need you to tell me why. All the whys and everything else that goes with that. Like where and when was she abducted? Why she was returned? How is he making them disappear? Tell me what you see.” Jack wasn’t shy about asking for it all.

“You need to stop calling them that…abductions. We all know that they are not. He’s killing them. The eighth is proof enough of that.” Will grimaced, nodding to the abandoned dead.

“Then where is he taking them from? Elise Nichols disappeared on a Friday, the weekend she was supposed to be house-sitting for her parents.” Jack said, getting up out of his seat to glare at the evidence board which was depressingly bare of any real evidence save for smiling pictures.

“Whatever he is doing to them it takes roughly three days to do it.” Will reasoned out.

“So where were they taken from?” Jack muttered.

“I don’t know, Jack. Someplace else.” Will huffed, getting up to stand beside Hannibal. He didn‘t like the Alpha so close to his mate, placing himself between the two. Not the smartest move for an Omega, but one Will felt he needed to do. Hannibal was his….everything, and that was something he had never been able to claim before. He wanted to keep what they had safe, felt driven to do that. “He’s keeping them somewhere while he works.”

“They are all quite dead you know.” Hannibal quietly offered up, letting his shoulder brush Will’s own. They needed to keep it professional, but he found Will’s gesture of protection touching, like a mongoose guarding a snake. Misguided and foolish, but touching none the less.

“I know. He keeps getting himself a new one.” Will sighed, wanting to lean into the man beside him. His old friend exhaustion was gnawing at his nerves, bringing his bitch headache with him.

“So we will focus on the anomaly then. She is our key to all this.” Hannibal said, touching the picture’s edge to get a momentary burst of mirth through their bond from Will for some reason.

“You mean she’s the only body we got.” Will said, running his hands over his face. He leaned in to study all the girls, his eyes lingering over their visages’ details. “They are all very mall of America, don’t you think?”

“Same hair color, same eye color, roughly the same age, weight, and height as well. This killer is particular. That is important.” Hannibal nodded. Particular and stupid. Having a type of victim narrowed it down, made it easier to make a profile and find connections that led back to the killer. It was one of the reason he picked his pigs from all different creeds, genders, races, and colors. Luckily for his kitchen, rude was universal.

“What is it about all these girls?” Jack looked but didn’t see, not like how the pair was doing beside him.

“It’s not about all these girls. It’s about one of them.” Will said softly, making the two Alphas look over at him. The Omega hardly noticed though, too busy chasing the thinking of a killer as he tilted his head in thought. “He’s like Willy Wonka. Every girl is a candy bar. Hidden amongst all those candy bars is the one true intended victim, which if we follow through on the metaphor, would be your Golden Ticket.

“The question is then is he warming up for his Golden Ticket or reliving whatever he did to her?” Jack said, going along with the ride for now.

“No. He’s hiding how special this young woman is.” Hannibal mused aloud. In a way, it was very clever thing to do for such a stupid killer, seeking replacements like that so he would do no harm to the original, keeping this prized girl all to himself. Part of him was distracted by Will working in his gallery, contrasting and changing his newest exhibition of this killer as his mind gathered more information. It was a continuous process of renovation and change.

“Do you have the autopsy report on Elise Nichols?” Will asked, Jack moving to find it for him. The proof would be in the pudding as some would say. This killer had kept all the others except this one. There was something special about Elise or something very wrong. It was his job to find out which. He was creating a space in his head for this killer, fleshing it out of wood and backdrops of midnight.

Report in hand, Will’s eyes skimmed over the details, feeling Hannibal’s presence at his shoulder, the Alpha reading over his shoulder. “There was antler velvet in the wounds?” Will asked without really doing so. His brain was working overtime now, calling up facts and seeing how they fit before discarding them to move onto something new.

“Yes. Why is that special?” Jack asked. Hannibal wanted to mock his attempts to try and keep up with them. Watching Will from ground zero was thrilling, though Hannibal kept his own observations to himself not wanting to taint Will‘s process. He had a different sort of insider’s look on the matter anyway. He wanted to see where Will’s mind took him, how clever his mate was.

“In some cultures, antler velvet is thought of to promote healing.” Hannibal considered to them, growing impatient enough to give Will a prompt. “But I think it would be safe to presume that this is not the case in this situation.”

“Then why would it be there?” Jack growled. He wanted answers, not useless information.

“She was mounted and bled.” Will said, already seeing it in his mind. Hannibal appreciated the view as well, peeking on Will to see Elise losing life in liquid form from her archaic crucifixion. Standing in snow covered wood at night, he moved to stand just behind Will as the empath stared up at her, at the cruel tips that pierced her flesh. His mate’s becoming was so near at hand, Hannibal could practically taste blood from Will’s future kill. He grinned into the back of Will’s head, hiding his near gleeful expression in dark curls.

“Her liver was removed then placed back within her.” Hannibal noted, keeping his tone flat and clinical. Will hummed in agreement, leaning back into his mate as he stared at what his imagination had created for them. There was really only one reason this killer would have done that. This man, this hunter, had been rash and was already making mistakes. If you were going to leave a body behind, you should never do so out of remorse. Emotions made one careless.

“Why cut out her liver at all if he was just going to sew it back in again?” made Hannibal wish he could gut the other Alpha, the pair hearing Jack on the edge of their perceptions. To Will’s amusement, he noted that Hannibal found Jack insufferable blind to the obvious.

“Something was wrong with the meat.” Will said too harshly as he came back partially to himself to keep Jack in the loop, the empath choking on equal parts air and realization. In the mirror of his mind, he was pulling Elise’s liver out of her body, could feel the weight of it in his hand. He was inspected it alongside Hannibal who looked down at the organ in a disapproving manner, the way he did when he found sub par ingredients in his kitchen.

“She had liver cancer.” Hannibal clarified to the agent, tapping it out on the autopsy report as his inner image put the liver back in Elise‘s body for safe keeping. Will was too busy staring down at the crimson stain that coated his hands thick and wet up to his wrists.

“Bad meat.” Hannibal whispered in Will’s ear. He liked how blood dripped off his mate’s hands, drying under his fingernails, and marking his skin with the scent of iron.

“It’s an apology.” Will faintly said aloud, so that everyone could hear.

“What is he apologizing for?” Jack was like a third wheel. Greedily, Hannibal felt that this pivotal moment should be all for them, a cornerstone in making Will into the predator he was always meant to be.

“For killing her…” Will said as light and delicate as an Oracle of Delphi, high and brilliant on ancient poisonous gases. “...it’s a waste.”

“A waste of what? In what regard?” Jack pressed and pushed for his answer, relentless now that it was in sight.

“He’s eating them.” Will confirmed for the room, his voice reedy and wavering. His hands shook as he ran them down his face as if to clear his eyes of such grim knowledge though his mind was shining bright with it and full of death, beautiful in its starkness. “That’s why we’re not finding any bodies.” Will whispered, pushing back to escape from the men in room and the grim art of his own twisted mind. “Excuse me…”

Running, Will barely made it to the bathroom in time to empty out his stomach‘s contents. For some reason the taste of sausage he’d eaten for breakfast made him throw up some more until he was left dry heaving.

Something else was there, sitting on the edge of his perception, bloated and evil, but a headache and this case was keeping it at bay for now, coloring everything around him red, like blood in the water. When he was sure he was done and his stomach was twisted out dry, Will swished his mouth clean, washing his face for good measure as well. That was how Jack found him, bent over a sink with his face dripping wet.

“What are you doing in here?” the agent barked.

“I enjoy the smell of urinal cake.” Will said dryly in a rasping voice, sore around the edges from all the stomach acid. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted his soft bed at Hannibal’s house, their home, with the warmth of his Alpha beside him. He didn’t want to think about dead girls or the cannibal that was eating them anymore. Will just wanted to give in for once and let himself be protected, guarded by his Alpha.

“Me too. Let’s talk.” Jack snapped, making it obvious that he wasn’t about to let Will go without a discussion. The door opening behind them told of another joining their presence uninvited.

“Use the ladies room!” Jack bellowed, throwing his power as an Alpha about. Will winced as he felt it slap up against him, uncomfortable but ineffective despite how ill and tired he was.

“I will decline.” Hannibal stated calmly, arching a brow at Jack. He was completely unaffected as well, moving to stand close to Will. He could smell the sickness coming off of his mate’s skin, fever sweet. His Omega’s Heat was coming, creeping into every part of his being. It wouldn’t be long now.

“Do you respect my judgment?” Jack asked them both, demanding their attention elsewhere.

“Your judgment, perhaps. Your motivations, not so much.” Hannibal answered for Will who turned his head into his side. He realized his mate must be tired if he was willing to let Hannibal speak for him, seeking out the comfort of his close presence. “I understand your wanting to catch this killer, but your methods leave a lot to be desired.”

“We have a better chance of catching this guy with Will in the saddle.” Jack argued, raising his voice but not daring to come closer. It was a well know fact that an Alpha became aggressively protective when an Omega was injured or sick. This feeling was only amplified when the pair was bonded. With soul mates, it would be considered suicidal to try and come between the two. Will was definitely looking under the weather, the man pale and sweating out enough pain to scent. For once, Jack wisely chose to keep his distance.

“I’m in the saddle, but I’m confused about what direction I am being pointed in. I don’t know this kind of psychopath. Hell, I don’t even know if he is a psychopath. He’s not insensitive. He’s not shallow. I’ve never read anything before on a mind like this.” Will mustered up his reserves to face Jack though he kept close to Hannibal’s side.

“You could tell something about him or else you wouldn’t have said that this was an apology. What is he apologizing for? For not eating her?” Jack started to pace. He didn’t like killers who got creative and didn’t fit the formulas.

No!” Will snapped, beginning to lose his patience. Did he really have to explain everything for him? Did they really not see? Was everyone just that blind? “For not honoring her.”

“Feeling bad defeats the purpose of being a psychopath, doesn’t it?” Jack argued, stopping short to give Will a hard look.

“Yes. Yes, it does. At least in the way we understand it.” Will sighed, feeling at a loss. Hannibal’s hand on his back steadied him though as his shoulders began to slump with fatigue once again.

“Then what kind of crazy is he?” Jack yelled, coming to the end of his patience. Will would have jumped at the sudden increase in volume if he weren’t so used to it.

“He couldn’t show her that he loved her by eating her, by honoring her so he put her back where he killed her. Whatever crazy that is.” Will growled back, feeling a particular sort of frustration that came from dealing with ‘normal‘ people. He didn’t experience this sort of aggravation when he was with Hannibal.

“You think he loves these girls? This is about showing his love? Psychopaths can’t do that. Their kind of crazy doesn’t allow for love.” Jack said, staring Will down while doing his best to ignore Hannibal who kept himself in-between them.

“Psychopaths are not crazy. They are fully aware of what they do, and the consequences of those actions. Even those concerning love.” Hannibal interjected. He was on the strange precipice of that emotion as well.

“Well, he loves one of them, and I think by association, he has some form of love for the others.” Will nodded, his mate’s incite welcome.

“There was no semen or salvia. Elise Nichols died a virgin and her corpse kept that promise.” Jack said, proving further to Will that he just didn’t get it. The rumble of appall in his mind made Will realize that Hannibal picked up on this as well.

“That’s not how he’s loving them! He wouldn’t disrespect them like that!” Will yelled more out of disgust that anything else.

“One doesn’t mate with meat.” Hannibal added on a more personal note, not that anyone noticed.

“He doesn’t want these girls to suffer. He’s killing them with what he thinks is mercy.” Will said, at a loss at how to explain it further in terms that Jack could grasp.

“A sensitive psychopath? One who would risk getting caught just so he could tuck Elise Nichols back into bed? How do I catch that kind of crazy!?” Jack asked, despite having been given his answers. Hannibal considered them wasted on the man.

“I don’t know!” Will shouted in aggravation.

“Well figure it out!” Jack bellowed back, his expansive voice bouncing off of tile walls harsh enough to make Hannibal wince.

“Why don’t you figure it out if you don’t like my answers!? You’re the head of behavioral sciences! Come up with your own answers if you don’t like my own.” Will sassed, having been pushed to his limit and then over it.

“I’m not hearing this!” Jack roared, moving forward until he found could not. Hannibal’s power was sword and shield as he pushed Will behind him, his eyes flashing scarlet in warning at the other Alpha.

“Will, go to the car. We are done here.” Hannibal said in a tone of voice that brooked no disagreement. Will felt too tired to argue so he ducked his head, refusing to look over at Jack as he left.

“Jack…” Hannibal chided, well within his right to do so. He could have Jack’s proverbial head served up on a silver platter for his gross professional misconduct. An Alpha threatening a claimed and bonded Omega would not go over well with any board of employment, the gender basically considered property.

“I need to push him. I need answers. Those families need answers. Their dead daughters need their killer caught and brought to justice.” Jack said, trying for the moral high ground. Hannibal was unimpressed by its height, easily overlooking it.

“That may be but Will must get there on his own. He will get there. Eventually.” Hannibal shrugged, taking his own leave. He was amused when Jack followed him out in a vain attempt to reason with him. Hannibal already had some thoughts in motion on the matter. Jack’s wishes were inconsequential at this point.

“I don’t have time for ‘eventually‘.” Jack grumbled, coming up short when Hannibal stopped suddenly, turning to smile at the agent. And how could he not?

This case was perfect, practically tailor made for what Hannibal needed. He would create the ideal moment to reveal his true nature to Will, set off his Omega’s Heat with just the right amount of stress applied to frayed nerves, and turn his mate into the perfect companion for him, an equal in the know to hunt with.

“This cannibal you have my mate getting to know…..I think I can help good Will see his face.”

OoOoO

Will woke up hard and wanting, breathing in deeply the scents of cinnamon and nutmeg, vanilla and musk that were all Hannibal. He vaguely remembering coming home, of being carried to their bedroom, and Hannibal stripping him down before joining Will in bed. Breathing out heat, Will crawled across the king sized mattress to where his mate was lounging, Hannibal awake and watching him. It wouldn’t have surprised Will at all if Hannibal had simply left his side to see if he would wake up or not upon noticing his absence. Will found that he didn’t give a flying fuck. He just wanted Hannibal.

Near him.

Around him.

In him.

Choosing to settle between Hannibal’s legs, Will shoved them apart to create more space for himself, Hannibal smiling indulgently at the aggressive gestures. Will could read that the Alpha was curious to see what Will was planning on doing.

Feeling vicious and not knowing why, Will bit down on Hannibal’s thigh in answer, the inner part where it was soft on everyone. Gasping, Hannibal’s hands flew to his head, but made no attempt to pull Will off as his teeth broke skin. Trim fingernails grazed Will’s scalp, making the Omega purr as he tasted blood. Releasing the bruising flesh, Will lapped at his mark, the perfect indentations left behind by his teeth. The scent of Hannibal’s musk was heavy here, making Will feel almost drunk off the pheromones.

Turning his head to the real prize at hand, Will laved his blood coated tongue over the velvety skin of Hannibal’s balls, the Alpha tensing as his breathe stuttered to see if that precious bit of sensitive skin would get the same treatment as his inner thigh. Will noted that the thought didn’t seem to bother Hannibal much though, the Alpha’s cock responding beautifully to either sensation.

“Masochist.” Will chuckled darkly, before running his tongue up Hannibal’s length to take the bulbous tip into his mouth. Swirling his tongue over and along the slit to taste bitter salt, Will scraped his teeth gently against the side of the swollen flesh.

“Sadist actually.” Hannibal corrected, stroking his fingers through Will’s curls and marveled at their shine and softness. His care for the Omega was reflecting in the man’s appearance, Will’s skin, eyes, and hair glowing with health from regular meals and expensive product. Strong hands were on his thighs, Will keeping them apart and his hips in place. The comment made Will’s come off of his erection though, the Omega looking up at him with a thoughtful look as he traced a finger through Hannibal’s blood, the wound in his thigh oozing.

“Do you want to hurt me?” Will asked curiously, proud of himself for being able to do. Not too long ago, any of this interaction would have ended the moment between them. Now he could hear and feel Hannibal in his mind, unfurling within him to scrape at his own inner walls, could feel the Alpha growing more excited as he watched Will draw patterns on his skin in his own blood.

“No, beloved. Not unless you asked me to.” Hannibal sighed out in pleasure as Will began to give him slow and easy head, his hand placed firmly over the bite mark to make it sting and contrast with all the pleasure he was receiving. “And even then, I believe it would be very hard for me to do so.”

“I don’t know what I want anymore. I feel too much. It’s confusing.” Will rasped, throat still too sore from earlier to keep doing this sort of thing. He rose off of Hannibal’s cock, leaning up give his Alpha a wet kiss. Hannibal could taste himself on Will’s lips as he licked his way into his mate’s mouth, nipping at his lips to bloody them in turn.

“You’ll be in Heat soon. I can smell it in your skin.” Hannibal mouthed the words into Will’s neck, decorating the pale column of it equally with nips to redden and kisses to tingle. Will’s scent was strong here, making Hannibal feel heady and light headed as he touched and was touched just as greedily back in return.

“What does it smell like?” Will arched his throat and tilting it to the side, baring it perfectly for his mate to claim and mark. He already had a collar of scars, but he knew Hannibal loved to put another link in the chain whenever he could. He bit his lip to keep from making a sound as Hannibal did just that.

“A fevered sweetness, light and delicate.” Hannibal growled out as he released Will’s flesh, his teeth stained with blood.

“Do I have time to catch this killer?” Will considered, pushing his mate back against the bed to straddle him properly. Grabbing hold of Hannibal’s cock, Will aligned himself with it, his opening already slick enough to drip excess down his thighs. As he pressed inch after inch into himself, watching Hannibal’s face the entire time, Will found it was still a tight fit, making both still for a moment to level out and gain back control.

“Yes. I believe so.” Hannibal licked his bottom lip before running his teeth over it, the habitual gesture endearing to Will. It meant he was having an effect on the stoic Alpha, that he held that kind of power over his mate. Hannibal‘s large hands stroked Will‘s sides before coming to rest on his hips, gently rocking the Omega so that his cock settled further in him. “I am confident enough in my assessment to leave you for a time…”

“What? What are you talking about? We are in the middle of a case.” Will gasped as Hannibal flexed his hips to thrust upward, Will bracing himself with his thighs and splayed out hands on Hannibal’s chest for traction and resistance.

“An old patient of mine is asking for a favor. I will only be gone a few days. You can stay in Wolf Trap while I’m away and visit your pack.” Hannibal offered sweetly, leaning up so that he could taste Will‘s mouth and the blood on his neck again. Will moved to accommodate, the position difficult for a wide range of movement, but wonderful for feeling the Alpha so swollen and heavy inside of him.

“How very primitive of you. Leaving me out in the middle of nowhere, far away from any other Alpha who might come and claim me at my weakest moment.” Will laughed, baring down with his weight to take in more if he could, liking the way he could make Hannibal grunt and move beneath him in answer.

“I wouldn’t be considering this if I didn’t feel you were safe.” Hannibal said as he marked Will’s shoulder and chest further in mild retribution for evoking such undignified behavior from him. Will yelped in surprise and over stimulation as his nipples were bitten, a ring of teeth left around both to match.

“Where are you going? Someplace exotic?” Will reached to cup Hannibal’s face with his hands, asking each question with a kiss, touching the Alpha‘s sharp cheekbones and bridge of nose with his lips. “How long will you be gone?”

“Three, four days at the most. As for exotic, I doubt many could claim that sort of descriptor about Nebraska.” Hannibal told his mate. He was flying into Omaha to visit a colleague just long enough for an alibi so that he could drive into Minnesota unnoticed. He had plans there for the Minnesota Strike.

“My condolences.” Will snorted, not bothering to hide his amusement and smug joy about not having to go. “I hope you enjoy corn. I hear they grow a lot of it out there.”

Hannibal found he liked this, this almost tranquil pace between them, the flow of conversation as they rose and fell in time with each other. This sweet and easy peace between them was seductive and Hannibal wanted to make it commonplace, the thought strengthening his resolve to leave, even with Will on the brink of Heat. He would move quickly and with purpose. The results would be well worth the hardship of being so far from his mate.

Falling forward so that Will’s back hit the mattress, Hannibal drove himself into Will making the Omega cry out at the deeper penetration. Will wrapped his legs around Hannibal, hooking his ankles together to help encourage this. Arching his back and doing his best to keep up with the brutal pace, Will clung to Hannibal as the Alpha claimed him thoroughly, teeth embedded in his neck again.

It was like he only existed for this now, this moment of perfect clarity between them as he came with his cock trapped between them, the slide of their sweat covered stomachs over it soon coated in white.

Feeling boneless and loose limbed, Will panted as he felt Hannibal fill him with a noticeable warmth, the Alpha’s cry muffled by the flesh he held between his teeth. Flexing his neck, Will winced knowing that he would have several more marks to tend to. Instead of fear worming its way into his head though about it, he felt a strange sense of pride instead, knowing that other Alphas would see his scar collar. Know that he was claimed and bonded, could never be theirs. It was a hallmark desire of his gender, but one Will could finally feel comfortable embracing. Hannibal had proven to him that Will could trust his mate.

As Hannibal cleaned his neck with broad tongue strokes, Will’s thoughts wandered to his own mark on Hannibal’s inner thigh, wondering if the Alpha would let it scar. Will had the strangest feeling that he would, his arms wrapping around to caress the lithe muscles of Hannibal‘s back, slick and fragrant with sweat and musk.

“What if Jack calls me while you’re away?” Will asked, not really wanting to. He didn’t want this moment to end.

“Then go to him. I trust you.” Hannibal practically purred out the words in Will‘s skin, hiding his smile against his Omega‘s neck. He was counting on Jack calling Will and Will answering that call to set his plans into motion.

“You know who you belong to.”

OoOoO
TBC

Chapter Text

“Where’s Jack?”

As predicted, Jack Crawford had called out his profiler to look at the gift Hannibal had left for them out in a field. Minnesota itself, his absence so close to Heat, or both had not agreed well with Will. Hannibal could tell his Omega hadn’t slept, had been stuck well into waking without him there as Will peered curiously out the motel’s door. His sleepwear stunk of fear and sweat, the thin cotton stained with rings of salt. It only intensified Will’s scent, and something that should have disgusted him made Hannibal’s mouth water. Will’s musk was ripening beautifully like fruit on the vine, made sweet by all the added stress Hannibal was heaping upon him.

“Deposed in court. The adventure is yours and mine today.” Hannibal smirked, leaning in the doorframe. He scented Will openly, his Omega noticing the flair of nostrils, finely shuddering from the attention to his details. “May I come in?”

Jack’s absence confirmed, Will didn’t quite attack him, but it was a close thing as Hannibal was pulled out of the Minnesota’s frigid morning air and into the cheap room by the front of his cashmere sweater. Will’s grip upon him was desperate as the Omega tried to climb him like a tree. Hannibal found he had to juggle as armful of Will who was trying to map out the inside of his mouth with his tongue, his Tupperware satchel full of Cassie Boyle protein scramble, and keep his balance all at once as he made his way to what was laughingly called a bed by the motel.

“I made you….” Hannibal started to say, pulling back to have Will’s lips chase and claim his own again.

“We’ll eat it later. Missed you.” Will mouthed into his flesh, nipping at his mate and simultaneously winning Hannibal over to his point of view. He felt too desperate to care about food at the moment. Needing leverage, Will’s feet hit the floor again while his hands flew over Hannibal‘s body, pulling and twisting clothing off of the Alpha.

“Please, please, please, please…” Will chanted as he tore at Hannibal’s layers, frustrated that the man wasn‘t naked. He blessedly wasn’t wearing a suit, dressing all in neutral earthen tones without a fiber of plaid in them. Finally helping to keep his clothing intact, Hannibal came to his aid, sliding off his slacks as he toed out of his socks and shoes all at once. Wasting no time, Will’s sleepwear was thrown across the room to parts unknown, the Omega using his weight to topple the pair over onto the bed.

Will’s Heat was so close that Hannibal could taste it in the boiling nature of the Omega’s skin, the enticing scent laced in Will’s sweat, and feel of its power running over that lithe body like an electrical current. It wouldn’t be long now, a week at most. Hannibal wanted it now. This motel wasn’t ideal but other preparations had already seen to in this matter. There were proper hotels nearby with accommodations for newly mated couples, places whose sheets didn’t make Hannibal’s skin crawl when the scratchy material touched it. He already had a suite reserved elsewhere, a sound proof space that catered specifically to the needs of Alphas and Omegas who were in their seasons.

Stress could set Will’s Heat off early and sudden, making him shatter so beautifully, all in time for Hannibal to catch up all the falling pieces and remake Will into who he was destined to always be. Just short of revealing his true identity, this cannibal’s capture would be just the catalyst that Hannibal was looking for. The Alpha hazily considered these thoughts as he sunk himself into Will’s body, the Omega already so wet and open to him. With his legs thrown over Hannibal’s shoulders, Will drove himself on the Alpha’s cock, greedy and reckless for it, shocking a cry out of Hannibal. He snapped his teeth at Will in warning to have the Omega snap back with a growl. Power nipped at Hannibal’s skin, his eye narrowing in response at it.

“This is not the ideal position to knot you in. Besides, we have killer to catch.” Hannibal managed to sound somewhat composed as he tried to reason with Will, the Omega obviously considering to pull him into a Rut. There would be a time and a place for that later, in a place that didn‘t stink of industrial disinfectant and too many one night stands.

“I hate you. Stop making sense.” Will groaned, wanting to be filled to the point of breaking. His inner thoughts were getting greedy and nonsensical even to him.

“Soon.” The Omega was promised with a smile that was all teeth as his Alpha gave Will everything he wanted and more.

OoOoO

The protein scramble was perfectly tasty as is, kept toasty warm by Hannibal’s ridiculously expensive version of Tupperware. Still, it was something that Will was grateful for as he made an effort to try and not rush through his food like a savage. It wasn’t impatience on the Omega’s part though. He was simply ravenous, wanting to gorge himself on the eggs and sausage, finishing off his portion far more quickly than Hannibal despite his restraint.

“It’s good. Thank you.” Will said by way of apology, knowing it must have looked to watch him gobble up his food.

“My pleasure.” Hannibal replied with a slight smile as he exchanged their containers, his own still mostly full. He had been far too busy enjoying Will to bother with eating. It was obvious in his hesitation that Will was toying with the idea of arguing with him, but a good whiff of food belied that.

Will didn’t bother to stop the moan that left his mouth around another full forkful. The Omega didn’t have to look up to know that his Alpha was pleased, Hannibal’s scent giving him away as odors of cinnamon and ginger strongly hinted Will in on his pleasure. Will’s enjoyment of the food as well as fulfilling the more instinctual needs to provide for his mate was doing wonderful things to and for Hannibal. Will wanted to bathe in the odors that were coming off the Alpha.

Alas, duty before pleasure. There was still a cannibal on the loose.

“What are you smiling about?” Will tried to grump into his food and failed. He was smiling too, the expression feeling out of place on him. He was doing that more and more though in Hannibal’s presence so Will told himself that he might as well get used to it.

“You mean besides enjoying your company…” Hannibal’s voice was a sultry purr that made Will feel his slick threaten to soak through his boxers. The Omega kicked the Alpha under the table to make him stop. Hannibal knew how alluring Will found his accent, used it to his advantage whenever he could and at times, when it was least appropriate. “I was curious about how the FBI proceeds when it’s not kicking in doors.”

“We’re lucky we’re not doing house to house interviews.” Will sighed, inwardly cursing Jack. The agent was supposed to handle the social aspects of this investigation. “Bev found a little piece of metal in the clothes Elise Nichols had on. A shred from a pipe threader.”

“Riveting.” Hannibal stated flatly to be kicked under the table again, this time for his humor. “There must be hundreds of construction sites all over Minnesota.” And he was not looking forward to visiting any of them. This was not the stressful input he wanted to apply upon Will. If anything, it sounded incredible dull and tedious.

“Certain kinda metal. Certain kinda pipe. Certain kinda pipe coating. So we are looking at construction pipes that use that kinda pipe.” Will explained, feeling his mate’s irritated thoughts about the monotony of the matter.

“Very well. So what are we looking for then?” Hannibal asked, pleased with how attuned Will was with his moods. The bond between them flowed effortlessly, the transition between Will’s woods and sea, and Hannibal’s castle becoming a seamless thing they could both traverse at their leisure now. It was commonplace now for Will to lounge in sunrooms and art galleries that could only be found in the hidden places of Europe while Hannibal strolled down pebbled beaches of Northern lakes he had never stepped foot on in life.

“At this stage, anything really. But mostly anything peculiar.” Will shrugged, resisted the urge to lick his bowl clean. It could be seen as rude, but he mostly refrained because they needed to leave this motel room at some point. Jack would not be happy if he found out that his investigation was delayed because his profiler wasted a day being fucking into a shitty mattress. “One thing I do know for sure, the Shrike didn’t kill that girl in the field.”

“What gave it away?” Hannibal leaned in. He was proud of his work, but prouder still of his mate. Of course, Will had seen the difference.

“The devil is in the details. Everything was wrong about it, like seeing a picture in the negative. Our killer, this cannibal, loves woman. The girl’s killer thought she was a pig.” Will said, with a shake of his head as he reconstructed the scene in their shared mind space so that Hannibal could see it.

“The mathematics of human behavior. All those ugly variables. Some bad math with this strike fellow.” Hannibal said as he observed his own handiwork. He decided to himself it was a little minimalist in its execution, but made more lovely for it. Sometimes less really was more.

“This was practically gift wrapped for me.” Will said from beside him, Hannibal looking over at his mate to watch the Omega’s brow furrow in thought and worry.

“You have an admirer.” Hannibal told him, shameless and wanting to see what Will would do with that truth.

“He has a few problems.” Will snorted, leaving the field behind to return to the motel room. He needed to get properly dressed and this day underway.

“Ever have any problems, Will?” Hannibal said, sitting back in his chair to admire the view of Will stripping down. The Alpha let his voice drop huskily, enjoying how his accented voice made slick drip out of his mate. He could hear Will sigh as the Omega reached for another change of underwear.

“Only you.”

OoOoO

TBC

Chapter Text

Like a living canvas, Will was dappled with blood in an almost delicate manner. It was streaked over his glasses and stained his skin, the arterial spray creating a pattern as fragile as lace made from cobwebs and dust across the Omega’s face and clothing. It starkly brought out the blue of Will’s eyes, taming the grey of them back. It seemed almost a shame to wash such vibrant brushwork off, but Hannibal really couldn‘t stand the smell of another Alpha on his mate.

Things had gone awry at the Hobb’s residence, more so than Hannibal could have even predicted. He had been expecting a confrontation, had even looked forward to some delicious violence, but not the brutal dispatch of both wife and daughter by the panicking Alpha. Misery certainly loved company, and desperation even more so. If Hobbs couldn’t have his lovely daughter, then no one could, the deranged Alpha opening up his beloved Abigail’s throat in the kitchen. Her death had set things in motion far beyond Hannibal’s control.

Bullet after bullet had been fired into the cannibal’s chest, Will barely even reacting from the gun’s recoil as he strode forward like the living personification of righteous vengeance itself. There had been no hesitation on the Omega’s part, his gender not hindering or dissuading him in the slightest from being a Fury. Will had entered that kitchen with the sole intention of killing Hobbs, the merciless slaughter of the cannibal’s wife out of the front step ensuring it. The girl’s death had kept it from being a merciful head shot. Will had wanted it to hurt, driving every bullet home through Hobbs’s body to make it dance macabre and die slow enough to feel every exit wound.

It had been glorious to witness.

In those sacred seconds of movement, sound, and other people losing life, Hannibal stood in awe just a few mere feet away, committing every flying droplet of blood to memory like an insect in amber. He wanted to revisit that the glory and gore of this art at his leisure, write symphonies and sonnets worthy of it. In time, he would give them as a gift to Will so he could bask in his own rebirth, the moment he became the killer he was always meant to be.

The sight of Will standing over Hobbs as he wheezed out his last words in life was forever memorialized in the halls of Hannibal’s mind palace. The stone cold look upon the Omega’s face was carved in marble, his eyes wide and startling blue with all the softness leeched from them to be set in sharp sapphire. It wasn’t everyday that someone became a god, or one got to bear witness to such deification. The ravenstag stood between them, tall and proud, and even the dying Hobbs heralded in the becoming with his dying breath.

“See.”

Alas, but even the birth of new gods was limited by reality, time snapping back into step to bring all its annoying little interruptions and other lesser beings with their paltry concerns trailing behind it. From there on out, things degraded quickly. The backup that Will had called in swept through, too late to be of real use other than to bag and tag evidence, and call in some professional with a mop and a truckload of bleach to do some cleanup. The local authorities and the FBI tried their best to question Will to find him unresponsive, seemingly deaf and mute in any inquiry or demand. The Omega’s scent told an entirely different story though, the smell of liquored up sweetness pouring out of Will’s pores like his body had broken open its bounty. For once, Will’s timing was absolutely perfect, Hannibal swooping in to extract his mate from the situation, biological needs allowing the couple to leave. No one in their right mind wanted an Omega to go into Heat at a murder scene.

Still in shock but well on his way, Will allowed himself to be shoved into the rental car, taken across town, and led through the lavish rooms Hannibal had acquired there for them. The Omega was hiding within himself, his entire being seemingly numb to any stimuli. He didn’t even react as he was stripped down, Hannibal licking and nipping at newly exposed skin to clean other people‘s blood from it.

Peeking into their shared headspace didn’t give Hannibal any additional insight about the Omega’s state of mind. Will’s fields and forest were frozen to an eerie standstill, everything covered in a light dusting of snow and glittering frost right up to the walls of Hannibal’s palace.

Relieved of all his clothing piece by piece, Will stared at some point in the distance that he could only see, propped up by the wall at his back and the Alpha at his front. Life returned to Will in increments when Hannibal took him into his mouth, a hot wet tongue meeting his flaccid cock to curl around its limp girth. The Omega’s flesh didn’t stay soft for long, gaining vitality as fingers explored the slickness in between Will’s inner thighs as the velvety texture of his balls were rolled and fondled. The delicate skin of Omega’s rim was traced but not breached, tips of fingers just lazily circling to make his entrance pucker and drip in excess.

Wetness started to seep forth from there the more Hannibal worked his tongue over and up Will’s length, the Alpha swirling his tongue around the mushroom tip to lap at its salty slit. Thrusting forward, Will reacted when he felt a finger enter him all the way up to the knuckle, made easy by all the lubrication trickling out of him. Even if he wasn’t in the right headspace for this, his body was ravenous for touch, but not for the usual reasons. He needed to be grounded. At the moment, everything hidden but still well in movement was trying to fly off its rails.

The sky was falling. Will needed someone to believe him, that they were all in danger. The light of his day was going out and with its exit came the darkness in the company of monsters. The existence of night itself did not hold fear within it for Will. He simply didn’t know if he had the strength anymore to fight off the hidden things that came with it, each more alluring than the last.

Or maybe he was just worried that he wanted to join them. Temptation held a certain terror about it, one that most overlooked. The wine of life was sweet, but people tended to forget that alcohol was poisonous.

Maybe this wasn’t about escape. Maybe this wasn‘t even about survival. What Will needed and what he wanted were two entirely different things. Will knew he was seeking out something solid to sink his anchor in. He was a little boat being tossed across an ocean he’d never had any intention of navigating. He felt lost, needing acceptance as much as he needed salvation.

Grounding came in the form of a second finger working its way into him with such ease. Though it was shoved in his face on nearly a daily basis, Will tended to forget that he was made for this, to take and be taken. He tried not to think at all as a third finger was placed within him, twisting and turning as the tense muscles in his lower half unraveled and his opening produced another gush of wetness in anticipation for an Alpha’s knot.

Biologically speaking, it was a wasted effort if one wanted anything produced by that sort of seeding, but that was the purpose of keeping a male Omega. Pure pleasure without any repercussions. This didn’t feel like that though, it never did with Hannibal as Will stared down hazily at the Alpha pleasuring him, filling his passage with thick fingers and running a greedy tongue up his cock. This was hardly a frivolous affair, not with an Alpha kneeling before an Omega like a reverent to suck his cock when it should have been the other way around.

All this time, and Will still wasn’t sure what Hannibal wanted from him. All he knew was that his skin felt too hot, too alive as his mate kept swallowing him down and his fingers worked him open. The silence between them was broken when Hannibal quit fucking around, driving his fingers in deep and clever, his tongue fluent with pleasure as it was with words. Will came too quickly from it, the head of his erection scraping Hannibal’s throat raw even as the back of it was coated wet with milky white.

“Clean off.” were the rough words spoken by the Alpha as Hannibal rose to his feet to loom without even really trying, his power creeping into the words deep enough to make it an order. Will couldn’t find it in himself to really care as he was let go, the Omega falling to his knees without the support. His bones felt mercurial instead of solid, like magma was his skeleton’s marrow now. He was shattering like pottery left too long in a kiln, and the heat was spilling into every part his body.

“No, you can’t…” Will was so close to begging. He hated himself for it as he stared up at Hannibal who looked too tall, too terrifying in all his stark and terrible beauty. His protests were soothed into something softer, Hannibal cupping the sides of his face with hands that felt cool coated in his own slick on feverish skin.

“My dear Will, you are welcome to come find me if you are so inclined to do so.” Hannibal intoned, already knowing full and well that Will would be driven to do so. The scent of peaches bursting their skins to drip their sweet essence out into the dirt like strange rain ensured that. An illusion of choice needed to be established though.

Will blinked and Hannibal was gone. After a confusing moment of looking around at the too empty space, he realized that he had lost time though Will had no idea for how long. His skin was chilled from the sweat that collected upon it, though everything else inside of him blazed and throbbed. His lower half seemed to have its own pulse, the walls of his passage flooding and spasming with a brutal need. Remembering the Alpha’s commands though, Will made himself stand up or at least try to. His legs kept giving out, making the commonplace task difficult. He made due crawling into the shower stall, not even caring if the spray was too hot or too cold. At this point, he couldn’t really tell.

The shower was a strange, slow torture. In its reprieve, Will found his truth.
Heat. He was in Heat, and his Alpha had left him. Will clenched his jaw, lingering scents of Hannibal’s musk tainting the air doing their best to choke him out. It took everything in him climb out of the shower and towel off so that he wasn’t still soaking wet, though his hair missed most of the treatment, curling in ringlets all around his head like a dark halo. His legs were too soon coated in slick as well, making it hard to walk normally though Will made himself to do, at least for now. He still had his lingering pride to contend with. He would meet his Alpha on his feet and stand toe to toe with Hannibal before his Heat made him fall completely to ruin.

Upon entering the bedroom, it nearly destroyed Will to find Hannibal still clothed, the Omega‘s steps faltering to a halt near yet still just out of reach from them both. “Strip.” Will growled, letting his power whip out sharp as a lash. He rejoiced in seeing Hannibal flinch from it. Will didn’t get to revel in his little victory long, the Alpha reacting in turn with his own.

“Undress me.” Hannibal countered while he still could. He was made from flesh, not stone. He was being reminded of that fact with every passing second that carving itself into his skin the longer he kept himself from Will.

To his credit and Hannibal’s disappointment, the Omega moved toward the bed instead of attacking him with a feverish want like before in the motel room. Hannibal could smell the slick oozing down Will’s thighs to thickly cover his now clean skin, fresh and fragrant and smelling so wet. Hannibal’s resolve spontaneous combusted and crumbled into ash as Will laid himself out on his back across the bed, his legs falling open to expose and present himself all in one motion. It was wanton and desperate and working on Hannibal who was beside the bed before he even realized he’d moved.

“Fuck me. Breed me. Devour me.” Will said, looking at his Alpha with dark liquid eyes like pools of clear blue. He was loosing sense, his grip upon reality disintegrating. Their shared mindspace was bleeding itself out of their heads and into this reality, the hotel room gone and replaced with misty woods and the company of ravenstag. Will heard himself beg and demanded all in one breathe, and felt powerful for it as he watched Hannibal shudder in answer.

“Be careful what you wish for.” Hannibal sighed the words out through his teeth, running his tongue over his lips.

“But I need you.” Will didn’t want to argue with Hannibal. He just wanted to give himself over to the Alpha, let Hannibal have his complete way with him. Now it seemed that Hannibal didn’t want him. Panic was like a drop of cool liquid in the midst of his boil.

“Then show me. Show me how much you need me.” Hannibal was trembling, the movements of his body fine enough to hide while still dressed and this far away. He needed to break Will down just a little bit further before he could completely give into him.

Letting his actions speak for him, Will didn’t waste time with more words, the Omega flipping over onto his stomach to prop himself up on his hands and knees. His back dipped so that his butt popped up in the air, showing off how slick flowed over his heated skin to chill and tingle in the open air. Pride and dignity falling away like a strip tease, Will presented himself to the Alpha in the most perfect lordosis pose Hannibal had ever seen before or cared to notice.

Giving in because he couldn’t help himself any longer, Hannibal let his control slip away from him. Placing a hand firmly on the small of Will’s back, the other entering that sodden gash, and in direct response, causing Will to cry out as his hands scrabbled over the sheets seeking purchase. Pressing back, Will rocked into the intrusion. It felt strange and good and so real. It made Will feel alive.

“I’m sorry, Will. I thought we would have more time…” Hannibal said, removing his hands from Omega with great effort so that he could remove his clothing. Will didn’t take it that way though. Hannibal found that he didn’t get to finish that sentiment. Moving faster than either had thought possible, Will was upon Hannibal quicker than he could follow, going from accepting and complacent to rabid in between the space of seconds. Hannibal’s mouth was claimed, torn to bleeding by careless, sharp teeth as Will worked him over roughly in a devouring kiss, the Omega wrapping his arms and legs around the Alpha to keep him close.

Will heard Hannibal’s words like they were coming from high over head or from a burning bush for all he cared. Surreal and distant, touching him in places never reached before, never tried by others. He was in Heat, and that was all he knew. When his thoughts weren’t saturated with the idea of Hannibal, Will was vaguely aware he was, the fervent tendrils of searing want a vivid reminder that gripped every nerve of his being.

There had been other Heats of course, but this time, there was an Alpha. An Alpha being pulling into Rut by him, smelling all spicy sweet like cinnamon and cedar binge drunk on musk and pheromones. It didn’t matter anymore to Will that Hannibal had bought him. It didn’t matter to him that something was off about Hannibal, had always been off about him, something terrible and dark. All that mattered was that Hannibal was there, his eyes black pools of ink ringed with red, a blood corona around a dark sun.

Some sort of wording took a foothold in Will’s mind as he realized that Hannibal was apologizing for something. He was in a haze, but instead of sweet nothings, Hannibal was muttering regrets. Apologies meant withdrawal in Will’s world, and ultimately loss. Panic, his old friend, set in as Will inferred that Hannibal was going to leave him like this, still all wet and wanting.

“No, no, no, no, no…” Will’s mind and body chanted in unison as he moved, adrenalin giving him wings as he claimed the Alpha. He bit down on a thin bottom lip as his fingers curled to tear at skin with his nails. Hannibal was hard, leaking fragrant precum that coated Will’s fingers, and from that, Will would have wept from relief alone. Feeling deranged, some part of Will rationalized that Hannibal still wanted him, at least on a biological level. At some point, Hannibal managed to get naked, the skin on skin contact like a drug Will was determined to overdose on, each point of contact between them like taking a hit. The Alpha was on his back with Will above him, straddling his waist to drip warm slick into the trail of graying curls on his belly, the leaking tip of Hannibal’s erection grazing a sodden hole.

Any concept of further prep was discarded, Will aligning himself with cock like it was second nature to him, sinking down on an impressive length until Hannibal was hilted and trapped within him, the Alpha’s Rut swollen balls pressed to the back of his ass. Will rolled his hips, ignoring pain as unfamiliar pressure grew inside of him, his body playing catch up with it all.

Sinking down as deep as he could, Hannibal was slotted and sealed into place, Will’s body doing what it was made for as his passage clamped down on the intrusion to keep it there. Completion was a surreal sensation to experience as Will arched his back to gasp for air. Wet heat pooled within him, his Alpha’s release sending him over the edge as Will came untouched, his own fluid staining Hannibal’s belly starkly with white. The Alpha was too far gone to notice or care, Hannibal caught in his Rut, driven by his own nature to pin his hands to Will‘s hip and just fuck upward, his semen a welcome flood that pooled hot and very much there in Will. All he could do was hold onto Will for dear life and continue to thrust his hips upward into that carnal heat.

Will was amazed to find that he was the one recovering first, the Omega leaning in slowly to take careful licks at Hannibal’s mouth as the Alpha panted, still caught in Rut and working his way out of it. Mouth slack and partly open, Hannibal’s lips were coated in a slick sheen of red, still bleeding and teeth stained from Will‘s earlier attempts of affection. Will couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it as he lapped at the wounds with the tip of his tongue, the taste of iron oddly salty sweet. Heavy lidded eyes the same color of congealing crimson watched Will as he did so, the Alpha making no move to help or hinder Will. It was too late when Will realized he had been staring into dark suns for far too long, losing himself to them and the truths that lay in that dual eclipse.

Doors were being flung open in the palace of Hannibal’s mind. For all the beauty and wonder Hannibal had within him, there was an ocean of blood being held at bay. It flooded hallways with strange currents, the sounds of other people‘s screams composing a surreal music that shattered Will‘s perceptions.

“No more secrets, beloved.” Hannibal whispered. Will fell forward so that his head rested upon Hannibal’s shoulder, the Omega drained to the point of exhaustion but still felt so alive as he was set on his side. Hannibal was licking at his marks, the wounds riddled along the column of his neck. Will couldn’t remember when or how often Hannibal had bit him, but from the wetness he felt on his neck, he already had a new ruby choker of wounds round his throat. Both were sated momentarily, at least in body. Minds was an entirely different matter.

“Are you going to kill me?” Will broke the afterglow first. Pillow talk was for normal people. It was time for him to have a long talk with the Chesapeake Ripper.

Hannibal didn’t seem to mind though. “No, my beloved, my Will. I am not. We both know I‘m not.” was all the Alpha said, his tone so neutral they could have been discussing what Hannibal was making for dinner. Will thought it kind of spoiled the surprise now that he knew the secret ingredient was people. “You are going to keep my secret and I yours.”

“And what is my secret?” Will asked, despite not really wanting an answer. The Devil was owed his due and he had come to collect.

“That you like killing.” Hannibal said as he pressed a gentle kiss to Will’s forehead. It reminded him of a benediction, Hannibal both his priest and god. It was probably for the best, them having this conversation now while they were tied together. Will thought Hannibal was probably only showing restraint because he didn’t want to be stuck with a corpse for the next twenty minutes or so, his knot locked bodily into the Omega. He may be a sadist and a cannibal, but Will knew the Chesapeake Ripper was not into necrophilia.

“I see you now. The scales have fallen off of my eyes. You always meant for me to find out, one way or another.” Will said softly. Part of him wandered down darkened hallways to peek into revealed rooms full of corpses on display, each composition more beautiful than the last. Like an artist, Hannibal’s methods and techniques had only improved over time and with practice.

“Yes. You are my mate, my other, the missing part to my being. I’ve waited so long for you, Will.” Hannibal said, pressing soft adorations to Will’s neck to run the flat of his tongue over the new and old marks there.

“Can monsters love?” Will asked warily as a cannibal nibbled affection into his flesh.

“No. Not in the same sense, but what we have is greater than love.” Hannibal said, leaving off of Will’s neck so that he could peer into his mate’s eyes, half lidded liquids things that they were, full to their brim with inner conflict and unrealized potential. Will was looking upon his greatest creations with awe and a sense of wonder, yet still resisted him and himself. Hannibal didn’t know which was the greater sin.

“But…” Will hesitated and it was his undoing, Hannibal rolling them so that he was above the Omega now. He pressed himself in further, shuddering as the tight inner movements of knot and passage drew out a chain of tiny orgasms from both, leaving the pair gasping in their wake. Will heard himself made soft rasping noises as more seed was placed in him. The Omega wondered absently if Hannibal was the type of Alpha that made his mate keep all the semen within him during Heat until his lower belly was taunt and descended from it, tender to the touch. It wouldn’t surprise him if Hannibal was, the Alpha possessive enough for it.

“Shhh….let me in Will. Let me take you far away from this mundane existence. You could be so much greater than what you let people make you into.” Hannibal rumbled above him, long fingers tangling themselves into curls to hold Will’s head into place. Hannibal took his time looking at Will who found he was doing the same in return at his own leisure.

“I know what I am. I know who I am.” Will told him evenly and could hear the inadequacy of that statement for himself. Hannibal remained unimpressed.

“No more lies Will. No more secrets. It is time for you to emerge from your chrysalis and leave it behind. It will never fit you again. You will never be what you were again.” Hannibal said as he brought his face in close to brush their lips together. They could both feel the ebb and flow of Will’s Heat, the pair in the eye of the storm at the moment.

“And what are my secrets?” Will making it more statement than question. Hannibal would never be so forthcoming, would make Will work for ever answer.

“That you liked killing Garrett Jacob Hobbs.” Hannibal gave him the tip of an iceberg to lure Will in and let him wreck his boat on rest hidden underwater.

“I…I didn’t…I…” Will stammered, recalling every shot fired, every drop of blood spilled.

“We both know that you did.” Hannibal purred, his voice coming out husky and thick enough to make Will’s passage suddenly tighten. Hannibal gasped aloud as his knot was pressed down upon.

“Killing him felt just.” Will said with a sound conviction, not knowing if he needed to convince himself or Hannibal about that.

“And it will again. And again. And again.” Hannibal teased, promising and threatening all in one breath.

“Don’t make me.” Will didn’t plead, was proud of himself for not sounded entirely wrecked about it.

“Never. At your leisure, of course, but you will kill again now that you have a taste for it.” Hannibal foretold, reading Will’s future in his eyes. The orbs widened as Will’s quick mind made more sense of this brave new world he was apart of now.

“Oh god….You’ve been feeding them to me. You’ve made me a cannibal.” Will whispered. The disgust he expected to fill his throat like bile never came though, the Omega feeling usually calm about his new dinner preferences.

“You loved it. Every bite.” Hannibal grinned, the expression more feral than repentant. Not that Will was expecting an apology.

“Was all the meat…?” Will made himself keep looking at the predator on top of him, bearing his weight and cock down upon him.

“Will, don’t ask stupid questions you already know the answers to.” Hannibal tutted, clicking his tongue for emphasis.

“Bastard.” Will sighed, though there was no real emotion behind it.

“I see we still need to work on your foreplay.” Hannibal said. He was momentarily distracted as they shifted, Will easing his legs around Hannibal so that he could lock his ankles together, keeping them there. As discontent as Will felt, he had no intention of letting Hannibal go anytime soon. “You make me feel and I make you calm. We complete one another, create balance for one another.”

“Now who‘s lying? Just….don‘t.” Will muttered, feeling suddenly exhausted beyond all measure. All he could do was cling to his mate and hope that his sanity kept afloat. “So what? Wind me up? Watch me go? You wanted me to kill Hobbs.”

“No. Not necessarily, but it was a possible outcome.” Hannibal admitted, rolling his shoulders in an elegant shrug. Will found himself appreciating the play of muscles it took to complete that gesture.

“But why?” Will began to question before the rest of his thinking caught up with him. “You were curious! You wanted to see what I would do! You wanted me to killer like you!”

“I had hope. You never disappoint.” Hannibal said, looking far too pleased with himself. Will resisted the urge to head butt his mate for being such a pretentious ass. For better or worse, they were stuck with each other. Will couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about that.

“You were supposed to be my paddle.” Will lamented to no one in particular. The Omega’s face was gently cupped in large hands, Hannibal holding Will still so that he could place tender kisses that lingered upon his forehead, cheeks, and then finally his lips.

I can be so much more than that, beloved. In time, I can be your everything. I will take away your fear and replace it with something far more fitting.” Hannibal promised. He was delighted when Will kissed him back, pulling at his bottom lip to end the adoration with a nip.

You don’t want anything in my life that’s not you. We can’t sustain this relationship, especially when I start killing. We are going to get caught.” Will hated to be the voice of reason in this. This conversation was surreal enough as it was. His concerns only drew a wicked smile from Hannibal who noticed his mate not bothering to deny his true nature anymore.

“That is why you and I are going to leave here.”

OoOoO

“You can’t quit!”

That was Jack’s way of greeting Will at his goodbye party, the little affair a surprise put together by Beverly, Zeller, and Price. “I believe I am. See? I got a party hat and a cake that says I did.” Will said, pointing to the ridiculous paper monstrosity that Beverly had crowned him with earlier in the evening. It was garish enough to offend even Will’s humble sensibilities.

“And I‘m telling you that you can‘t! Not with the Ripper still out there and now this Copycat Killer.” Jack practically roared, the agent drawing open ire from the other bar patrons. Will didn’t bother answering or defending himself. There was no real need to anymore, the Omega smiling lazily back at Jack.

“It is in my professional and personal opinion that this line of work is not healthy for Will. The Hobbs incident has finalized that decision for me.” Hannibal interjected like Will knew he would, looking totally out of place as he did so. The bar was a bit of a dive so the good doctor in his suit looked somewhat out of place here. He had come for Will though, and that was all that mattered. “Besides, it will be a little hard for him to do so. We are leaving for Europe first thing tomorrow morning.

“Europe!” was all Jack could manage out, shock robbing him of words. The group took that as their golden moment to leave while Jack still seemed at a total loss. Upon leaving the bar though, a guy slammed into Beverly, the agent caught from falling over in time by Will who glared at the boorish Alpha’s back.

“Nice manners, asshole!” Zeller called after the guy to receive a middle finger in answer as the Alpha got into his car. Will looked over at Hannibal who looked back at him and smiled.

“A very rude man indeed.” Will said who was already memorizing the license plate.

“What’s to be done about that?” Hannibal mused, the Alpha keeping still as Will leaned in so that he could whisper something low and sweet to him.

“I think it’s my turn to provide the meat.”

OoOoO

THE END