Been A Son

BEEN A SON
chapter twelve

Will chose a coffee shop well on the other side of town, away from Hannibal's office just in case he was spotted by him. Having an ally to his cause changed everything, especially since Will wasn't keen on leaving witnesses to his sick act of violence. The fact this particular witness was a psychiatrist placed an even bigger kink in his plans. Alana meant well, but she was no killer, that was Will's job. He knew her residual guilt over taking a life would eat her up until there was nothing left and before long she'd be tattling to Jack Crawford about how she'd witnessed Will do the most *terrible* things. There would weeping and apologies and heartfelt pleas that Will Graham needed help. The only help he truly needed was to hide Mason Verger's body after he'd destroyed it, but he doubted that was Alana's line of thought. Her participation was a liability and besides, he needed to do this alone. This was a gift for Hannibal, he didn't want a group project.

"Margot told me what he did to her when they were kids," Alana said over her coffee, and the flash of fury that washed over her made Will wonder if he'd been all wrong in his assessment, the righteous indignation she exuded trumping all sense of moral expectations. But she had backed down when Will confronted her in Mason's bedroom and had agreed that killing him in that moment wasn't possible. She had seemed relieved, then, and that was when Will knew how a murderous future would play out in Alana's perception.

He reached across the small table and took her hand in his. "He's going to pay for what he did, I can promise you that, Alana. You just need to keep out of my way."

"What he did to her, that son of a bitch..." Tears welled in Alana's eyes, and she crossed her arms and slammed her back against her seat, frustrated with herself for not going through with her careless plan. "The money, the business, none of that matters anymore. I need to get Margot away from all of that Verger poison and the only way to do it is if he's dead. If she ends up penniless, so what? We'll figure it out, I got some savings--hardly the millions she's used to, but we'll get by. She doesn't have a clue what life can be like living free, away from that monster's influence." She wiped away tears with the heel of her hand, slightly smudging her mascara. "I need to give that gift to her, I love her too much to leave her in that snake pit."

She composed herself with difficulty, the coffee shop crowded with people, most of them McBain supporters looking for a quick, warm fix out of the cold. The winter was morphing into spring at a painfully slow pace, as though the coast couldn't let go of that long, protracted death, refusing to allow renewal in. "I know exactly how you feel, Alana," Will said, and he stared into the black contents of his mug, two empty sweetener packets beside it. A rousing chant of 'Make A Family' coursed through the small coffee shop, earning a few curious glances into the corner where an ever growing group of McBain supporters were gathered. Some had placards, folded in half to make room as they sat in their cramped seats. Will could see the shadows of some of the letters. 'Make Alphas, Not Whores.' A not so subtle sentiment that Omegas existed to further the Alpha baby factory cause. Sex had a very specific purpose according the McBain creed, it needed to result in children...Alpha children. The ethos practically called for genocide on male Omegas, there were no lines to read in between.

He could hear their inane, ignorant chatter, getting louder, chanting over and over 'Make A Family!' like it was a religious mantra. Will hugged his cup of coffee closer and Alana did the same, the atmosphere in the coffee shop becoming charged with more threat than comfort. The cashier behind the counter gave the large group in the corner dirty looks, but she wouldn't dare kick them out. The media was lurking everywhere, and there were few voices of dissent among them, the whole 'Mainland problem' poised to be solved by an ass who hadn't lived there, and had no clue about their traditions and had nothing but prejudice towards a lifestyle that had sustained them for hundreds of years.

"Tell me what to do, Will," she begged of him, and he felt a deep sorrow for her, his doubts over her eternal happiness away from the Verger yoke multiplying along the chanting of the McBain campaigners. She was in the same situation he was, attached to an Omega who was incapable of bearing any children. The public tide was becoming increasingly intolerant of such unions, and he had to wonder what kind of future was about to sprout around them. The entire world felt like it was under threat.

"We don't have enough evidence, but we're confident that Mason Verger is involved in a series of Omega murders." He paused at Alana's sudden pallor at this, her hands caged around her mouth in horror at the prospect that this was farther into darkness than she'd thought even Mason Verger was capable of. "I won't go into details, you don't want to know them, believe me. Three months ago, Hannibal was kidnapped by Mason's associate, Dr. Doemling. Hannibal was in heat, and from we have been able to piece together he was held in a basement, possibly a lab. I've broken into the property and gone down there a few times, trying to put more of the story into perspective, but that area where they held him has been scrubbed clean and there's little for my empathy to go on. There's a single, locked door on the far wall and every instinct in me is telling me that what I need to know is behind it." He squeezed Alana's hand harder, making her wince. "He had a cage down there, Alana. A small steel pen, similar to ones used for transporting cattle. There was a metal ring soldered to the wall and I know that's where the chains were attached. I know that's where he locked up Hannibal, that's where the bruises on his wrists came from, they were from the manacles, and the very thought of those two disgusting pieces of shit *touching* him..." Will bit down on his rage, the tremble it wracked through his body visible to people in the cafe, some of whom turned in their seats to warily stare at him. He was an Alpha set to go out of control, their frightened glances told him and they weren't wrong in that assumption. He closed his eyes and forced even breaths into lungs, morphing his jagged gasping into a more natural rhythm. His fists were clenched so tight he could feel his nails digging painfully into the centre of his palms.

It was Alana's turn to steady him and she placed surprisingly strong hands onto his arm, holding the tremors of his tensed muscles in. "You can count on me, Will. I know how hard it is to be in the dark about the hurt of someone you love. I'll get in there, I'll find out what you need to know."

Alana's intensity was a physical presence between them, and Will knew that if there was anyone on this Earth who could pick apart Mason Verger right to his bones, it was her. Will calmed himself with his knowledge of this, and he was grateful he'd been interrupted in his act of revenge. How far sweeter it was going to be to take down Mason Verger with all of his crusty little cupboards of harm exposed. Will salivated over the torture he could inflict with every gradual revelation.

"How is Hannibal?" Alana asked, knowing it was an open sore that still hadn't fully healed. "He's been to see Margot for their usual appointments, but he's requested that no others be present during her sessions, meaning me. I imagine it's been a difficult adjustment for him."

"It's been..." Will rubbed the back of his neck nervously, unsure of how to answer her. Though they were open in their relationship and Will loved the man beyond all human reason, there was still a barrier set between them that Will knew he couldn't climb, not yet. Every attempt resulted in Hannibal taking huge steps back, his smile losing its warmth and becoming a pasted on facsimile that made Will's blood turn into an icy stream. Often, it took days before Hannibal would forgive the silent transgression enough to let Will back into his warmth, and each time Will wanted to actively destroy the reason Hannibal had built such walls in the first place.

Then there was the constant inability to know what to do in public with him, tiny, minuscule freedoms he'd taken for granted suddenly full of overblown significance. Like was he allowed to show Hannibal affection in public? Was it wrong to let him cross the street without his Alpha at his side? He'd had a poor idea of social protocols on the best of days and he didn't know what was he supposed to do about the blatant, shocked stares at Hannibal's neck. Walks they'd enjoyed together became complicated, often ending in rude questions by passersby, where they'd ask what it was like to have a male Omega, was it as good for his health as McBain said, and why did he chose this one when it's obvious only a child bearing Omega should do. Hannibal would be standing right beside him and he was treated as though he was less than a dog on a leash. Hannibal refused to show his hurt at this kind of ostracizing, but Will knew that his pride had been damaged and he didn't know how to repair it. Usually, he simply lashed out at the ignorance, and occasionally wondered if a fist flung too hard against its mark might one day result in assault charges, Alpha rage be damned.

"Have you read the latest article in Tattle Crime?" Alana asked him, and Will sighed, pushing his coffee away. He hadn't touched his lunch and it didn't look like he was going to eat it after all. He'd have to sneak it into the garbage on the way home lest Hannibal have a shit fit over making the effort and Will cruelly ignoring it. Hannibal's tantrums only seemed benign, he wouldn't be stomping or breaking things or clenching his fists, Hannibal would simply become cold and aloof, and not even the heat of their bodies in bed would thaw him out.

"I haven't read it," Will confessed and Alana looked at him as though he'd committed a cardinal sin.

"It's about Hannibal," she said, and Will frowned at this. He grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket in a near panic and turned to a young woman sitting next to him, her laptop open.

"Excuse me," he said to her. "Do you know the wifi password to this place?"

"123BanMcBain," she replied without looking up and Will thanked her.

"Will." Alana grabbed his hand as he connected to the coffee shop's WiFi and frantically typed tattlecrime.com into his search bar with his thumbnail. "The article was sympathetic, but you need to know, there's a lot of backlash. With the McBain campaign gaining momentum around here, it's bringing out everyone's inner ultra-conservative demon. Dr. Lecter has done so much for Margot, and while his gender subterfuge was wrong, I do understand why he felt the need to do it. I'm a psychologist, I know how difficult it must have been for him, hiding it all these years, unable to have deep relationships as a result. Will, you are now the only thing standing between him and the lions that want to rip him apart in the arena, you need to be more proactive in your protection of him. He can't be going to his office during the McBain campaign, it would be better he took a hiatus until this whole 'Make A Family' political mess blows over."

He was barely listening to her. "I don't care about Freddie's opinions, she misses the mark more than she hits it and I don't care about the backlash of her conservative readers, either. My problem is that she is very sloppy with people's privacy." The article sprang into view and Will swallowed back a breath, his head shaking. There in full black and white letters was the headline:

Omega Psychiatrist Has License Forcibly Revoked By GSF Bullies--In a rare case of male Omega gender subterfuge, Dr. Hannibal Lecter has had his license forcibly removed for a crime that is nothing more than a result of Alpha centric post pissing. How long will this razing of Omega freedoms continue? Dr. Lecter, a world renowned psychiatrist and consultant with the FBI (you read that right!) was arrested three months ago on charges of gender subterfuge, a crime that only exists in the United Main. The concept of gender subterfuge as a punishable offence is considered a crime against humanity by the Worldwide Human Rights Commission, and Europe specifically has been requesting severe economic sanctions against the United Main as a result.

How's that for creating economic instability, Governor McBain? Dr. Lecter, pictured above at his office near downtown Baltimore, has been forced to continue his practise under the guise of 'holistic therapist' despite the fact he is a highly qualified doctor. Dr. Lecter recently bonded with his Alpha mate, Will Graham, (congratulations fellas!) who is a profiler for the FBI. Graham has been working on the recent Omega murders, which this reporter believes is a cruel backlash against the Alpha murders committed by the infamous and elusive vigilante, the Chesapeake Ripper..."

"Dammit," Will said, and he showed Alana what his worst fears had already told him. An image of Hannibal with take out coffee from Demeter's was displayed in full colour and it didn't take a genius to figure out where his office was. The image was kind enough to even offer up the name and number of the street that was affixed in gold letters above the entrance to the building. '42 East Main Blvd.' Every whacko in the city would now know where the rare male Omega, Hannibal Lecter, worked and that his Alpha was too busy hunting down human predators to protect him, and one of those predators in particular could damn well show up on Hannibal's doorstep. "This is really bad," Will said to Alana as he slid on his coat and made his way out of his seat. The image of Hannibal in front of his office burned into Will's retina, and he couldn't stop himself from tracing the plain, beige silk he'd bound his neck in, Hannibal's expression one of stoic calm as he'd walked back across the street with a cup of coffee in his hand, oblivious to the fact he was being photographed. He glanced over at the group of McBain supporters in the corner, their loud boisterous voices filling the small space of the coffee shop with infuriating ignorance.

"Yo, Marcus, you hear about the male Omega that got killed? I hear the Alpha did it because he got pussy whipped by his dick, heheh."

Will grabbed his coffee and without warning threw it at the young McBain supporter, staining his white jacket and smashing the mug against the far wall. His friends rallied up, ready to fight, but there was pure murder in Will's aura, and they instantly backed off from his Alpha infused rage, especially when they got a glimpse of the gun tucked in the back of his pants. Will stormed out of the coffee shop, ignoring the stunned silence of Dr. Alana Bloom, who wisely didn't attempt to follow him. He really understood it this time, and that fact festered like a piece of rotten fruit within his soul, the thoughts sickly sweet and needy. He knew what Hannibal had felt when he'd heard that ethics professor saying derogatory remarks about Omegas. He knew if he hadn't of left that coffee shop when he did, he would have pulled out his gun and started shooting.

~*~

Though he was concerned for Hannibal, Will knew he couldn't stake out his office without being detected and it would be a serious breach in the uneasy trust Hannibal had placed in Will's assertion of his autonomy. He wanted Hannibal to have his independence, but it clearly came at an anxiety laden price.

He pulled into the driveway of their home and sat in the Bentley, idling it for over ten minutes as he stared at the front door before finally shutting down the engine and getting out. He pulled out his cell phone and quickly texted Hannibal, hoping to get a quick response. 'Hey. Just thinking about you and wondering how your day is going. Love you. X.'

He was still staring at his cell phone as he made his way into the house when a car he didn't recognize pulled into their driveway. He paused on the front step as a slender blonde woman dressed in an immaculate peach and beige pastel hued pantsuit slowly got out of her parked Volvo, her heels tall enough to be a weapon. "Mr. Graham," she said, a statement rather than an introduction. She held out a cold, pale hand gloved in skin tight black leather. He took it and shook it once, not liking the strange absence she left behind when her hand broke free of his grip. "My name is Dr. Bedelia DuMaurier. Do you have a moment to talk?"

"I don't think so," Will said, instantly defensive and he grimaced at her. "I'm not so inclined to talk to random strangers these days, especially considering the political climate at present."  His cell phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen.  'As well as can be expected.  I do so look forward to having you with me again, dear Will.  I wouldn't mind, if you are inclined to allow it, to go on my knees as you sit on the chaise near my window.  I'd like to contemplate the beginning of your lap.'  Will roughly coughed, and turned off his cell.

"A wise reticence but I assure you it's one that is not needed." She stood two steps beneath him on his porch, seemingly on purpose to appeal to his Alpha nature. She was a Beta, that was clear, but she had certain familiar aspects to her personality that could be in line with an Omega. A vague, manufactured fragility. Will stepped back, not at all sure he liked this rather manipulative stance, her heels clipped hard against the ice, far too steady and confident they wouldn't slip. "I am the psychiatrist assigned to Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He will be in therapy with me twice a week."

"Hunh, and to think we thought the GSF forgot about us.  Fat chance of that," Will said, and he still hadn't opened his front door or invited her in. He turned around, not at all willing to have her on their home turf, in fact he found her intrusion here to be highly unprofessional, even a little pushy. "What do you want with me, then?"

"You are Dr. Lecter's Alpha," she said, her voice freezing the ice in the air before her. "I felt it was important that I speak with you in terms of his therapy and to enquire if there are any concerns I should be made aware of before I continue forward."

She had an air of professionalism about her that Will easily saw she used as a cloak to hide her true nature, which was still hidden beneath bland colours and a lack of adornment, a subtle, forced delicate shape to her being that Will couldn't help but find disconcerting. He didn't trust her, and he wasn't so sure he wanted this person to be the one talking to Hannibal and seeking out his secrets. "I don't have anything to add and if I did I certainly wouldn't tell you," Will told her. "The fact he's being forced into therapy is a good way to make sure he won't be co-operative. Get ready for some meditative silence twice a week, Dr. DuMaurier, Hannibal doesn't give himself up so easily."

She smiled at this, as though he'd told her the answer to a question she hadn't asked yet. "I don't wish for you to view me as the enemy, Mr. Graham, but it must be made clear--you are not upholding the expectations in this relationship and you will be held accountable for them." Her heels clicked on the concrete as she stepped closer and Will braced himself against the front door, hands deep in his pockets, barring her entry into his own and Hannibal's sacred space. "As an Omega, and a resident of the Coastline, Hannibal Lecter is at constant risk of being assailed by the various Alphas who cross paths with him. I am quite surprised you are allowing him to still see patients alone, this seems to me to be a very careless risk."

Will shrugged. "Most of Hannibal's patients are Omegas."

"I noticed a takeaway coffee mug from the cafe across the street from his office. Is he in the habit of going there alone throughout the day?"

Will's mouth was a taut line. "I'm not putting him in a cage, if that's what you think I should do. He can cross a street for fuck's sake...'

"There are strict rules on the Coastline, Mr. Graham, and I suggest you begin studying up on them." She paced her way slowly back to her car. "I suspect you are not aware of them because you are not a true citizen of this part of the world. I find it quite interesting that a man as cultured and brilliant as Dr. Hannibal Lecter would deign to choose an Alpha mate who has such little understanding of how much danger is persistently lurking."

Will was annoyed now, and tired of this unspoken insistence that he read between every sentence she spoke. It was an exhausting exercise. "When you talk of dangers, just what kind do you mean, exactly? If you're referring the GSF, go ahead and report me for allowing my Omega to go to work at a profession he is fully qualified for and has been exemplary in for over a decade. He is not in public, and a walk across the street barely counts, or should I put shackles on him while he's in his office, chain him to his desk lest he get thirsty or need to go to the bathroom, would that be adequate Alpha supervision enough for the GSF?" Will shook his head, disgusted, both at her and at the system she came from. "I don't care what you people want, I am not putting him under lock and key, he is not a my prisoner."

"Oh?" Bedelia tilted her head in coquettish amusement, and gave him the very blandest of her smiles. "I think he is very much aware of just how much your prisoner he is, Mr. Graham. Dr. Hannibal Lecter does not seem to me to be a person who takes to captivity very well." She turned and walked away, pausing as she opened the driver's side door of her Volvo before turning back to Will, who was now shivering on his front porch. "I think he understands that you genuinely care for him, but be warned that given the opportunity to even the balance between you, he will take it. You need to take heed, Mr. Graham. Dr. Hannibal Lecter is dangerous."

He closed his eyes as she got into her Volvo and left his driveway and he waited until she was well out of sight before sliding the key through the lock of the front door and going inside. What a load of shit, as if some porcelain mannequin needed to stop by and tell him what he knew already. She may believe she knows Hannibal and perhaps garnered a few key points, but she didn't have the depth of understanding that Will knew he had. Of course Hannibal was dangerous, it's why they were together in the first place. One predator seeking out the affections of another, both in the physical and cerebral.

He found it highly ironic, and no doubt Hannibal would get a good laugh out of it, that she had uttered that warning to a man who had snuck into a tyrant's bedroom that very morning with every intention of skinning him alive.

He shut the front door behind him and locked it before heading to the trap door leading into their cellar lair. He had to change back into the clothes he'd worn that morning and maybe add some wrinkles to it so it looked like he'd been under Jack's thumb for the entirety of the day. Considering he hadn't accomplished anything he'd wanted, specifically Mason Verger's death, it was a feeling that wasn't hard to fake. He checked his watch and saw he had an hour before he had to go and pick up Hannibal from his office, and he thought about those napoleons Hannibal had mentioned. He could always stop by the cafe, pick up a slab for him as a treat. Little gifts, they had meaning. In this case, it was to ease his own lurking fear of Hannibal causing chaos enough to land him into a GSF facility thanks to an impulsive killing spree while getting a cup of coffee.

Not that he wouldn't be justified...But still, Will had to insist on some measure of self control.

~*~

The parade was in full swing by the time Will got to Hannibal's downtown office and the traffic was a winding excursion through crowded side streets and frequent stops for frightened pedestrians. He careened past a group of young men and in women in their early twenties sporting 'Make A Family' signs, and they had made up a little song to go with it, something to do with zygotes and Alpha sperm and all of it made Will want to vomit.

Will's worst fears were realized when he pulled up in front of Hannibal's office building and saw graffiti spray painted across the Victorian era oak door in red, blue and black, the tribute colours of the Coastline. The two lawyers who occupied the ground floor were shaking their heads over the vandalism, and one of them was furiously pointing at one of the two small front windows, the glass smashed in the corner and a neat hole in its epicentre. Those who didn't know better would say it was a bullet hole, but Will knew what a rock and a slingshot could do, he'd used them enough when he was a kid knocking frogs off of rotted logs in the swamp. There was a police officer on the front step, looking harried and taking copious notes as the lawyers angrily shot information at him, and Will tried to stay out of it only to be pulled into its vortex by an accusing, gnarled finger.

"None of this would be happening if this one followed the law like he's supposed to and kept a more watchful eye on his Omega! This is his bonded Alpha mate right here, you tell him we want something done about this! This can't go on!"

Will braced himself as the police officer shook the two lawyers off and approached him. The lawyers, two elderly men in their late sixties dressed in cheap suits with buttons missing from the sleeves, stood off to the edge of the front porch of the building, muttering with each other over property law and Alpha liability and perhaps they should press their neighbour to get some additional insurance, maybe even force an eviction if this sort of thing didn't stop. The police officer took out a standard issue notepad, one that Will knew well from his time as a cop in New Orleans, and began asking clipped questions that were supposed to be devoid of emotion but still held a rankle of irritation deep within them. "Name, sir."

"Will Graham. Look, this isn't necessary, I work for the FBI, I just left Quantico to pick him up..."

"Are you in the habit of leaving your Omega unsupervised, sir? You do realize bonded Omegas are not permitted in public without their mates present, and this could be seen as a violation of that law." The officer tapped his pen on the notepad, giving Will a glaring look full of a judgement that was uncalled for.

"Look, he's inside his office, I drive him here and I pick him up, he's not traipsing the streets of Baltimore. The furthest he goes is to that cafe right there, across the street..."

"Yes, Mr. Graham, we're aware of that." The officer sighed and gave Will a grimacing frown past hooded eyes. "There was an altercation there earlier, involving a group of young McBain supporters and it got a little out of hand. Normally, I would be calling the GSF in a matter like this, but it was pretty clear to me that your Omega has been under some stress lately, and with you not being as attentive as you maybe should be..."

"What?" Will shook his head, panic beginning to rise within him. He tried to push past the officer to check on Hannibal, to make sure he was okay but the monolith of a man wouldn't let him pass. Will's heart hammered in lightning quick beats that pumped more oxygen than he could take in. He turned to the elderly curmudgeons at the end of the porch, and he must have looked such a misery they actually put their grievance aside for one moment to say, without apology, "Your Omega makes one hell of a mess everywhere he goes and he's been doing it since he opened up his practise. Tell him to get more insurance or we'll putting in a petition to shove him out."

The officer loomed over Will, and if he didn't know any better he'd swear the man was ready for Will to make one tiny, wrong move and he'd put a bullet through the centre of his forehead. "He's upstairs and he's fine. No thanks to you, asshole." A thick, sausage shaped finger pressed hard into the centre of Will's chest, nearly toppling him off the concrete steps. "I don't care if you're FBI, GSF or fucking CIA. Letters mean shit to me. Treat him right, or you're going to be answering to me, you got me, asshole? I will fuck your shit up." He slapped his notebook closed and pocketed it and stood to one side to allow Will access. He watched every step he took up the stairs to Hannibal's office, burning into him with hooded eyes beneath an impossibly thick Neanderthal brow. Will kept getting the feeling that threat of getting shot was still there, and this officer was keen to put a bullet into him before the day was through.

Confused, Will knocked on Hannibal's office door. "It's me," he said.

"Of course, my dear Will, come in."

Will entered the office and gently shut the door behind him, knowing that the officer at the base of the stairs was attentively listening for any sign of domestic struggle. "Hannibal, what the hell is going on?" He caught sight of Hannibal at his desk, hunched over his sketches, the one he'd been working on as a simple body study of Will now morphed into a complex miasma of thick antlers and streams of realistic blood that pooled beneath the bared feet of Will's nude figure.

Hannibal was poised and graceful, but his appearance was marred by a thick coffee stain along the blue silk at his neck and down the front of his white cotton shirt, which was now ruined. "I went to get coffee at Demeter's and there was a large crowd there ahead of me. It seems my binding was a source of amusement for them, and one of the young men in particular took it upon himself to spill coffee on me. It wasn't hot, he didn't mean to scald me, he merely wanted an excuse to grab napkins and cop an unwanted feel, as did his friends. So, I broke his wrist." Hannibal shrugged as though the matter was of no consequence. "It will be hard for him to hold a cup of coffee for quite a while, plaster casts are cumbersome. Now he has a real reason to be careless."

Will chewed his bottom lip for a long moment. "So...The graffiti..."

"Retaliation from his little group of knuckle draggers. Of course, Lloyd and Lloyd, the lawyers, had to call the police, and luckily they are too burdened managing the crowds and preventing riots to send more than one officer."

Will frowned as he sat on the corner of Hannibal's desk, eyeing the large cake box off to the side of his sketching. "What's this?"

"That? It's a napoleon pastry, my favourite. Neil was nice enough to purchase it for me."

"Neil?"

"Officer Neil Brogan." Hannibal paused in his sketching to look up at Will with smirking amusement. "I may have had to spin a bit of Omega fragility his way to avoid an assault charge. I even managed to make my eyes water a little, it proved very effective in evoking his sympathy and his Alpha nature pounced on it." Hannibal return to shading one of the pointed tips of the blood soaked antlers. "I may have told him you were a controlling brute who denied me every small pleasure in life. He believes I'm forced to go to Demeter's as my one solace, to obtain a tiny treat once in a while, secretively of course because you cruelly deny me them. This was not a request from me, dear Will, I didn't think he would buy me an entire slab of very expensive pastry. I wonder what he would have gifted me if I had actually let a tear fall."

He wasn't surprised, but he was damned if he was going to be happy about Hannibal manipulating a kind hearted officer. Hannibal raised a brow at Will's scowling. "That's perfect, dear Will. Keep that expression as we leave and make sure he sees it. I'll be sure to get coffee and cake all week."

"You are an asshole," Will said, and handed Hannibal his coat, which he took as he left his desk and dove his long arms into it, shrugging it into place on his wide shoulders. Still, he couldn't stop himself from teasing a small circle pressed lightly into Hannibal's back with a caress of his palm, Hannibal carefully turned off all lights and tidied his desk before leaving with Will, ensuring he locked his office door with two keys this time as he'd added a deadbolt a month ago. Hannibal walked down the stairs and Will followed him, holding the box of cake. He didn't miss Hannibal giving Officer Neil Grogan a small smile and a pantomimed 'thank you', a small flirtation that made Will's blood boil and thus give him that awful expression and the exact excuse Officer Grogan would need to do a 'well being' check up on what the Alpha considered an at risk Omega. Smooth, Hannibal, Will thought. Real smooth.

They walked down the narrow stairs leading to the front porch, and Will winced at the scrawled slurs destroying the beauty of the nearly two hundred year old building. In red, blue and black--DickCunt. SlickPrick. Whore. Hannibal glanced at them, not reacting and instead holding his head high as he approached the lawyers Lloyd and Lloyd. "My dear gentlemen, I am truly sorry about this unfortunate incident. I will naturally have the door replaced, obtaining one of a suitable vintage and wood. I will have the graffiti removed at my own expense. Considering the current influx of violence we seem to be experiencing as of late, I don't believe a security camera is out of the question. After all," he gave Will a warm smile, "there are those in my life who need to keep watch over me."

~*~

The ride home was near impossible, the collection of people gathered on the streets a constant barrier that forced Will to stop and start the Bentley at nearly every street corner. "When is this shit over with?" he moaned.

"Governor McBain is delivering his official campaign speech at the Baltimore Convention Centre on Friday. Four days of this suffering and then it's done. The placards shall head for dumpsters and belief in him will seep into the ignorant ether, never to be mentioned again."

Will drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his head nodding at the silent decision he had made within himself. "I appreciate you being honest with me back there," Will said, and he sighed uneasily, the stream of cars pressed tight against the Bentley making him claustrophobic. "It's only right that I'm honest with you." He stopped at a light and turned towards Hannibal, who seemed more interested in the herringbone pattern in the icing of his napoleon. "I didn't go to work today."

'Oh?" Hannibal said, breaking off a corner piece of the pastry and slipping it onto his tongue. He closed his eyes in sensual bliss over the sweet taste and Will nearly missed his exit off the side street, so absolutely edible in that moment was Hannibal himself. "What did you do instead?"

Will concentrated on the traffic in front of him. "I went to Muskrat Farm and nearly killed Mason Verger."

"I see." Hannibal closed the lid back over the napoleon. "You attempted and were not successful?"

"No, I didn't get a chance to kill him at all, it was...I just wanted to be honest with you about it, it didn't feel right keeping it from you, not after all we've talked about. I'm just really frustrated with how he's still able to be a part of the world and you're....I want that fucker dead, Hannibal. Did he touch you? Honestly, please, Hannibal, you need to tell me...I want to kill him. The things I want to do to him are..." Will swallowed, his throat rough like sand. "Evil. What I dream about doing to him...There's no other word that describes it better."

A headache was brewing behind his eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefingers, blinking his way back into focus as he turned down a street that led to a highway. "Dr. DuMaurier stopped by today, she said she's your new therapist."

"Ah, I was wondering if she would pay you a visit, though she was probably hoping you weren't home so she could snoop through our little castle." Hannibal chuckled at this. "She finds me to be a bit of an anomaly, I should think. A puzzle she's not sure she wants to complete. Dr. Chilton accompanied her for the visit, and it went as you may expect. Poor Fred was mired in charity, it's an odd quicksand for him. He's too earnest and prone to buffoonery. He won't get much money for the BHCI until he learns to appease egos instead of consciences."

"Dr. DuMaurier thinks you are dangerous," Will said.

Hannibal smiled widely at this. "What do you think, Will?"

Will sighed heavily and as their house came into view he reached over to Hannibal and undid the knot at his neck, his fingers deftly peeling off the silk binding around Hannibal's neck.

"I think whatever you have planned in that incredible mind of yours, I'm on board with it," Will said.

He parked in their driveway and tossed the coffee stained silk to the floor of the Bentley, his hands stroking Hannibal's exposed neck, pressing all those erotic points that made him throw his head back and moan into Will's touch. He writhed in his seat, the scent of slick heady as Will put the cake box onto the back seat and began lustfully mouthing Hannibal's jugular, suckling that throbbing vein and getting hard at the small, whimpering noises Hannibal made as he dug through layers of clothes to stroke him. "Whatever you are a part of, Hannibal, I am too. You are the Ripper, and so am I." Will dove down, taking Hannibal into his mouth while his fingers worked through his sweet slick. The sudden cries coming out of his Omega were a pleasure Will revelled in. He'd taken Hannibal by surprise and left him incapable of speech. How's that for an unexpected treat.