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"Alright everybody, you know the drill. Clear the area!"
Jack Crawford's commanding alpha voice booms over the din of forensic investigators sampling, FBI agents chatting, and local PD gawking. They follow the imposing head of Behavioral Science passed the police cordon, giving one last nervous look behind them at the lone figure remaining, silhouetted by blinding police floodlights and carnage.
Jack joins Dr. Hannibal Lecter at the pile of vehicles marking the perimeter, about a basketball court's distance from the corpse and profiler. They're shortly joined by beta FBI investigators Jimmy Price and Brian Zeller, bickering amongst themselves over some minutiae of the crime scene.
It had been some time since Will Graham was released from the BSHCI, and Hannibal was glad he was back in the saddle. He was even happier to watch. Jack interrupts the still arguing Price and Zeller, but Hannibal doesn't register them, his eyes fixed on the charming alpha in the distance, haloed in light and blood, standing alone with death.
Will waits until he can longer feel the weight of the crowd's gazes, and turns to the gruesome picture before him. The corpse of a naked white male alpha is laying on the ground at the foot of a wall in a dead end alley, flat on his back and nestled in viscera. His hands are clasped before him, and his head is angled to the left, a kidney nestled behind his head, giving him the appearance of a head bowed in prayer.
"Our Lady of Guadelupe?" Will whispers to himself as he takes in the whole picture.
The wall behind the dead alpha, previously white, is splattered in red, assumedly from the corpse. The body looks strangely flat, deflated, most likely due to the organs delicately and carefully placed around the dead figure in the shape of a holy sunburst. Will is certain at least one is missing.
Will marvels at the corpse. Alphas are rarely murder victims, and to see one of his own sub-sex on the other side of the police tape is interesting to say the least. He wonders what he did to warrant this fate, before silently berating himself for blaming the victim. He's got an inkling this is one of the Chesapeake Ripper's displays, and Hannibal is no vigilante.
Will closes his eyes and let's the pendulum swing. One, two...
The scene reverses. The cop cars and investigators are gone, and Will is at the mouth of the alley, stepping out of a rented cargo van and pulling a reinflated alpha behind him on a leash. The alpha is bloody and bruised, whimpering like an omega.
"I transport the alpha to a long forgotten alley in a rented van. Who he is doesn't matter, just that he is an alpha. The van will be scrubbed spotless before it's returned, a needle in a haystack of identical cargo vans."
Will grabs a cooler from the van before sliding the door closed behind him, the door on its tracks deafening in the quiet night. He walks to the end of the alley, his medium in tow. The wall is white once more. He stands the defeated alpha in front of the wall, turns him to face it, and slits his throat, deep.
"I turn you around so your arterial spray can paint the wall like a canvas. The way it drips is beautiful. It reminds me of the gestural abstraction style. It is not my usual preference when it comes to art, but this piece is not for me."
The alpha slumps to the ground, gurgling. Will lays him flat and pulls a scalpel from his pocket.
"I lay you on your back so I can better reach your organs and so I can pose you how I want you. I cut you open methodically, a perfect autopsy cut, and I remove your entrails one at a time."
Will buries his arms inside the alpha's chest cavity, cutting cords and muscles and tendons as he goes. He can smell the blood, but a new scent begins to dominate the scene.
"I think of the person I am making this piece for as I work. I hope he'll appreciate it, understand it. My hands begin to shake. I know he will get it. My breathing rate increases. This never happens to me. I..." Will stumbles, his vision blurring between the in-progress scene of his re-creation and the finished product of reality. He falls to his knees, clutching his stomach.
Hannibal, still watching from a distance, perks up at the change in Will's behavior; normally, Will just stands there and let's his mind run its course. He's simultaneously fascinated and terrified of what Will must be experiencing.
Hannibal isn't the only one who noticed. Beside him, Price perks up, "Is that supposed to happen?"
Jack and Zeller follow his gaze, panic beginning to creep across Jack's face.
Not wanting the show to be interrupted prematurely, Hannibal places a soothing hand on Jack's shoulder.
"Jack, let him finish."
He stands down, but he keeps a wary eye on Will nonetheless.
At the end of the alley, Will's situation hasn't improved. He manages to get back to his feet and into the swing of the pendulum, but something is having an effect on him. He pushes forward regardless, needing to know how Hannibal ended the murder; he's not sure what exactly is happening, but now he is sure this is indeed one of Hannibal's displays.
"Need to protect. Need... unngh"
A sharp pain hits Will in the gut, an empty feeling of need. He's never felt anything like it. He whines.
Will begins arranging the organs in a cozy pattern around the slain alpha, vision hazy. He has enough viscera to outline the man while keeping one organ separate. He puts it in the cooler with shaking hands.
The smell of gore becomes almost entirely masked by the other smell. A sweet smell. A radiantly seductive smell. A smell like home, safety, hospitals, old-growth forests, musk, and sex.
"Need nest. Need... knot," Will whines through gritted teeth.
"This is...ugh... this... my DESIGN."
Will snaps out of his mind and back into reality, panting heavily. But he didn't make it back unscathed; the smell of imagined omega heat, slick, and pheromones is still in his nose. And he begins to growl. Will has one last coherent thought: Hannibal is an omega.
Will's rut hits him like a freight train. His pupils dilate, his senses sharpen, and his pheromones begin to seep into the air around him.
Hannibal freezes, Will's pheromones hitting his sensitive nose before anyone else's. He whines.
Every head snaps to look at the Doctor, including Will's.
"Oh fuck," Jack breathes out, doing his damnedest to resist the biological urge to soothe a whining omega.
Hannibal had wondered what would happen if Will re-created his crime scene. He had never gone into spontaneous heat before, even a minor one, and especially not when in his element. He had even debated destroying it and trying again after he had... taken care of himself at home. But in the end, his curiosity of how the brilliant, alpha mind of Will Graham would react to occupying the mind of an omega in heat won out. And here was his answer.
Hannibal hadn't wanted the world to know his omegan secret, but if it had to be exposed, he could think of no better architect of his demise than Will. Years of wearing an alphan mask consisting of his unusually large (for an omega) physique, his old world status, and his striking suits, ripped from his face in an instant. And he couldn't bring himself to care. Not when Will smells like *that.*
Will smells divine, of honeysuckle and fir trees and fresh water streams. Of safety. Of home. Hannibal could feel his body reacting without his permission. A trickle of slick makes it's way down his leg, and he whines again.
"OMEGA," Will bellows from the end of the alley, and Hannibal is undone. Spontaneous heat hits him once again, this time caused by the object of his affections and not just the thought of him. And because of this, it is a true heat. A powerful one.
Hannibal runs at Will, pupils blown wide and a snarl on his lips. Will waits for him, breath coming in heaves as he stands next to the forgotten-by-them-both alpha corpse.
Jack hasn't forgotten though.
"No! Not on my crime scene!" he yells as he makes to follow Hannibal.
"Jack, there's nothing we can do. Hannibal's in heat," Zeller says as he places a hand on Jack's shoulder.
"Yeah, it's illegal to interfere with an omega in hea-"
"I KNOW THE LAW," Jack bellows, interrupting a frightened Price.
"Sorry Jack, we better stay back. I bet Dr. Lecter has great lawyers," Zeller says.
"Well, at least we got some pictures and samples beforehand," Price says, trying to lighten the mood.
"I can't watch this," Jack says defeated, turning to walk further into the mass of law enforcement vehicles behind him.
"I can!" pipes in Price, a wide smile on his face. The number of cops and FBI agents joining him at the cordon implies he's not alone.
"You're sick," Zeller replies.
"And you're still here. Guess it's contagious."
As Price and Zeller continue to bicker, Hannibal closes the distance between him and Will. Will loops his arms under the torso of the alpha-corpse and throws it at the approaching raging omega, strength enhanced by his rut. It doesn't hurt that the body is bereft of all its organs, too.
Hannibal deftly sidesteps the flailing body, and tackles the profiler to the ground. They fall in a flurry of fists and sharp nails, barely missing the corona of viscera as they hit the ground.
Hannibal lands on top of the feral Will, hands moving to his throat. His heat fills him with burning, hot, need. The need to be mated and knotted, yes, but first the need to prove the alpha with intent is worthy.
Most modern omegas would settle for a few nice dates as proof enough, but Hannibal is not most omegas. Luckily, Will shares that exception.
Will shoves his arms between Hannibal's and opens them wide, breaking the omega's hold on his throat. He takes advantage of Hannibal's off-balance and flips him over, landing them both smack dab in the alpha-corpse's previous final resting place with Will on top. Organs splatter and squish around them as they roll across the ground with a sickening splat. But neither alpha nor omega care. Will rubs his already rock hard erection against Hannibal's pubis, and Hannibal moans in response, a fresh rush of slick fragrancing the air.
Will snarls at the overwhelming scent. His crime scene facsimile of Hannibal's scent that landed them in this mess (literally) wasn't far off, the only difference being the hint of hospital; Hannibal's scent was all natural and intoxicating. Will would marvel at his accuracy if he had the mental capacity to do so.
Hannibal growls up at the rutting Will, swiping at his face with a bloody hand. Will snaps at the hand, catching the meat of Hannibal's palm between his teeth and eliciting a yelp from the Doctor.
Will immediately releases Hannibal's hand at the sound of the omega's distress, but he has no intent of letting him up. Will struggles to get a good grip on the feisty omega, and finally gets a hold of both his wrists, pinning them above his head. Hannibal whines as his hips buck up into Will's hard cock, eliciting a snarl from the rutting alpha. He brings his face closer to Hannibal's and kisses him hard, a bruising smash of lips on lips. Hannibal moans into the contact, melting, just before opening his mouth and biting Will's lip.
Will roars and reflexively brings his hands up to his bleeding lip, letting go of Hannibal's pinned wrists. Hannibal uses the opportunity to wiggle out from underneath Will and get to his feet. He turns, scanning the alley for a weapon, and as he goes to take a step towards a pile of trash in the corner, Will reaches out and grabs his ankles. Hannibal falls to the ground with a crunch, hands up in time to prevent his face from smacking the bloody pavement, but not fast enough to prevent his nose from getting smashed. Blood starts to flow from his nostrils as Will clambers onto his back, pinning his wrists over his head once more with a warning growl in Hannibal's ear. The bloody omega below him still struggles as Will migrates both of Hannibal's wrists to one hand, and brings his other to lay on the nape of Hannibal's neck. Hannibal freezes.
Will hums in appreciation of the omega below him, and pinches the back of his neck while pressing his cock against the ass of Hannibal's blood and slick-drenched trousers. Hannibal goes limp, whimpering.
Will whines back, and licks at the back of Hannibal's neck to soothe him, the coppery tang of blood hot on his tongue. A deep satisfied rumble rises from his chest as he catches his breath, and he noses behind Hannibal's ear, taking in his scent.
Will takes the moment of calm to drag the crime scene organs into place next to Hannibal, building a nest of offal for the omega below him. Hannibal purs, demonstrating his acceptance of Will's offering of a nest and of himself.
-----------------
At the cordon, the investigators look on in horror, enthralled.
"Did he... just make an omega nest out of human organs?" Zeller asks incredulously.
Price swallows, "Well, they gotta use whatever they have laying around I guess."
A nearby omega crime scene photographer excuses herself to go puke.
They can hear vague voices at the end of the alley where the special agent and respected psychiatrist lay in a puddle of gore, mewling and rubbing against each other, but they can't quite make out the words.
"Ugh, I can't hear what they're saying," Price opines while bobbing his head around to get a better angle.
"This is fucked up," Zeller says, wincing.
"Yup," Price replies, "Anyone have any snacks?"
-----------------
"Alpha, please," Hannibal whimpers, lifting his ass to rub against Will above him, the scent of a fresh wave of slick reaching Will's nose.
Will growls, those words driving him further feral. He yanks Hannibal's trousers down, dizzy with the need to taste, to fuck, to rut, to knot, to claim. There's no room for anything else in his rut-addled brain.
The sight below him stokes the fire in his loins: Hannibal on all fours, perfect posture and presentation, his pert ass arched in the air and his hole shiny with slick. His mouth waters and his teeth itch.
Hannibal whines, his own need rippling through him. The sudden blast of cold air on his achingly empty, desperate, and slick-soaked hole is overwhelming.
Will sits back, removing his body weight from the omega, and Hannibal whimpers at the deprivation. The whimper is quickly replaced with a gasping moan as Will buries his face in Hannibal's ass, desperately lapping at his hole.
A shudders runs through his body, the warmth and strength of Will's probing tongue teasing the already desperate omega. He reaches down to pull his pants to his knees, releasing his decently sized (for an omega) cock.
Will notices and pulls them the rest of the way off, all without removing his tongue from Hannibal's hole. As soon as they're gone, flung across the alley, Will reaches around to pump at Hannibal's cock. Hannibal keens.
It's good, so very good. But nowhere near enough. Hannibal whines and writhes under Will's onslaught, hips bucking forward and back chasing the delicious sensations of Will's hand and tongue.
Will himself is overcome with fondness at the omega's desperation. Most alphas would've stuck it in by now, but Will's cognizant enough to know that this omega is special. That this omega should be HIS omega, and his omega deserves the world.
Will lets out a possessive growl as he continues to devour the spit and sweat slick hole below him, sending delicious vibrations through Hannibal's body, pulling another deep moan from the already raspy-voiced omega.
Hannibal's hole begins to flutter around Will's tongue as he approaches his peak, and Will wastes no time at getting him up and over. He pumps his hand faster around Hannibal's cock, delving his tongue deeper.
"Alpha-alpha-alpha-ahhhh," Hannibal chants as his climax slams into him, adding more fluids to Will's hand and the already contaminated crime scene below them.
Hannibal had never experienced a cock-only orgasm during a heat before. It's nowhere near as powerful or satisfying as being knotted and filled, but unlike that kind, this orgasm does not fade; it's more of a cliffhanger than a climax. And Hannibal's body is a live wire of anticipation for the conclusion.
"Hnnghh, alpha," Hannibal whines, "Please, your knot, please!"
"Mine," Will growls out, giving Hannibal's hole one last lick before sitting up, sending a shiver down Hannibal's spine.
Will reaches up and rips Hannibal's coat and shirt open up the back, like a cadaver's clothing, exposing his breathtakingly broad and beautiful back to the cold night air. He leans forward and licks his way up Hannibal's spine while pulling his own pants down to his knees, his tongue landing on Hannibal's nape and his swollen, neglected cock laying against his ass.
Hannibal whines and attempts to buck his hips into the hard cock he can feel so close to the place he needs it most, but freezes as Will moves his tongue down Hannibal's neck, landing on his mating gland.
"Mine?" Will asks between heavy breaths, nosing at the gland and causing Hannibal to groan and produce another rush of warm slick.
Will growls with need at the wet, warm feeling on his cock, desperate to thrust home, but more desperate first to claim the incredible omega below him. The omega whose scent sings to him. The omega to whom his scent sings. The omega whose offering pleased him. The omega who built them the perfect nest.
They say the person can know what one wants, but the omega or alpha knows what one needs. Non-rutting Will had suspected and wondered, even after everything Hannibal did to him, but alpha Will knew immediately.
Both iterations of Hannibal only ever had eyes for Will, and he doesn't hesitate now.
"Yours, my alpha," Hannibal purs, turning and stretching out his neck, exposing it to Will's hungry mouth.
Will growls and slams home, pressing his cock into Hannibal's hot, slick hole and his teeth into Hannibal's mating gland.
Hannibal howls in pleasure, immediately coming around Will's cock, body convulsing from the oversensitivity of his previous orgasm and the rush of endorphins and pheromones coursing through his body from his ruptured mating gland.
Will's eyes roll back in his head, lost in the perfect metallic tang of Hannibal's mating blood in his mouth and fluttering orgasm around his dick. It's only through sheer force of will that he doesn't cum on the spot too. His rut-rife brain wanting more before it's sated.
Hannibal is a writhing moaning mess under Will, over-stimulated from two orgasms, but still desperate for more. Will's cock feels incredible inside of him, huge and hot and pulsing. But the need, the need is still there; it's not enough.
"Alpha. Please. Please give me your knot," he whines, arms shaking underneath him from the effort to hold himself up after such an onslaught of pleasure.
Will snakes an arm under Hannibal's chest and pulls him back to sit up, teeth still perfectly lodged in his omega's neck. He brings a hand around to Hannibal's throat, and another to his still hard and leaking cock.
Hannibal moans loudly in his grip, the new angle on their knees allowing Will's cock to hammer into his prostate over and over again. Will holds Hannibal steady by the throat with both teeth and hand, and thrusts hard and fast, other hand pumping at his cock.
Hannibal is a whining, mewling, moaning, twitchy mess of slick, spit, cum, and gore, and it's the most beautiful thing Will has ever seen.
It doesn't take long for Hannibal to reach the precipice of another orgasm, the clenching of his walls around Will's cock coaxing his knot to begin swelling.
"Yesyesyes, alpha, yes!" he moans between heavy breaths, hips moving forward and back to meet Will's cock and hand.
"My omega," Will snarls around his mouthful of throat before pressing his now fully swollen knot against Hannibal's hole.
Delicious whines and whimpers meet his ears as he presses slowly, carefully trying to breach his omega's body with his massive knot.
Hannibal, desperate and uninterested in being so slow and careful, growls and throws his hips back, popping Will's knot into his tight hole. They both cry out as simultaneous orgasms wrack their bodies, Will's cock pumping gush after gush of hot cum into Hannibal's hole.
Hannibal's vision whites out and he almost faints as every last ounce of pleasure is wrung from his body, overwhelmed by two previous orgasms, climaxes of his cock and prostate, Will's knot, and the teeth in his mating gland, all at once. His body twitches and convulses as he goes limp in Will's arms.
Will isn't much better off as the power of Hannibal's orgasm around his cock, his knot penetrating Hannibal, and the taste from Hannibal's gland on his teeth struck him similarly. But his need to protect and care for his omega overwhelms the fatigue in his limbs, and he carefully maneuvers them to lay down in their nest. Once snuggled in the pile of flesh they'd made their own, he is able to relax, gently licking his claiming bite on Hannibal's neck to clean it and calm himself.
Hannibal's awareness seeps back slowly, and the first thing he does is clench around Will's knot in his hole, just to check, sending delicious tremors of aftershocks through his sore and very sated body.
Will jumps behind him at the sensation, groaning as even more cum is milked from his tired cock. Hannibal moans in response.
"Hello, Will," he rasps out.
"Mm, you better stop that or my knot will never go down," Will retorts, voice similarly ruined.
Hannibal smirks, "What a shame that would be." He punctuates his point with another squeeze around Will's cock, eliciting another groan and trickle of spend.
"Hannibal..."
"Yes, Will?"
"Stop."
"Of course, my dear alpha."
Will flushes at the words, his own haze-free mind beginning to truly process everything that happened. His omega. His.
"Although I must admit I'm in no particular rush to disentangle ourselves and face poor Uncle Jack."
Will's warm and happy reminiscing about their rutting and his marking Hannibal turns to ice as he remembers where they are.
"Hannibal?"
"Although you have to admit, it will probably be very funny," Hannibal continues.
"Hannibal!"
"Yes, Will?"
"Did I go into rut at a crime scene, triggering your completely-unexpected-because-nobody-knew-you-were-an-omega heat, resulting in us mating at a crime scene?"
"Yes, Will."
Will blanches and tries to lift himself up onto his elbow to look around, jolting his knot inside Hannibal once more, eliciting shudders and moans from them both.
"Though it may be more accurate to say we mated on the crime scene," Hannibal continues as Will looks at the various viscera strewn around them.
"Fuck," Will breathes out. Hannibal chuckles and snuggles closer to the alpha behind him, sending out soothing pheromones before Will can panic.
"Where is everyone else?" Will asks, afraid of the answer he knows Hannibal will give him.
"Just over there on the other side of the police tape."
Will hesitantly looks over his shoulder in the direction Hannibal indicated, just in time to see the group of folks he has to work with every day, led by Price, start clapping and hooting. As if they were waiting for acknowledgement from the entwined lovers.
Hannibal smiles and waves while Will buries his head in Hannibal's neck, the color rising to his cheeks a riotous red.
"At least Miss Lounds isn't around anymore to snap any photos we wouldn't want on the web," Hannibal says through his smile.
Will groans at the reminder, "Hannibal, we have a lot to talk about now that we're uh, mated."
Hannibal looks over his shoulder at Will, smile softening at the sight of the ruby red and very embarrassed investigator.
"Yes. Yes we do."
Their separate secrets dance through their minds as Price slowly approaches with an emergency blanket in his outstretched arms.
Will growls as he gets too close, hackles rising at their vulnerability while still attached. Hannibal reaches a hand behind his head to run his fingers through Will's hair, soothing the angry alpha.
"Thank you very much, Jimmy," he says as he grabs the blanket and arranges the awkward mylar thing over their bodies.
"Phew, what a show you two!"
"You didn't have to watch," Will grumbles from where he's buried his head under the blanket.
"Oh no, I had to," Price says, drawing another growl from Will, "For work reasons, honest! Had to see what got moved or... contaminated so I can figure out later which parts of the scene are untouched enough to sample."
"Very selfless of you, Jimmy," Hannibal responds through a smirk.
Price shrugs, and makes to respond before the smile dies on his face.
"Heads up, Jack's coming," he warns.
Will groans once more while Hannibal still looks like the cat who got the cream. He gives one last squeeze around Will's knot, drawing a shudder and groan from the mortified alpha.
Before Jack gets into earshot, Will furiously whispers into Hannibal's ear, "If you do that while Jack is here, I will never knot you again."
Hannibal smirks to himself, but obliges.
"Sorry about this, Jack," Hannibal greets a very angry Jack, "Unfortunately, ruts and heats are things no man can control."
Jack grunts in response.
"Dr. Lecter, Will. What the fuck happened?"
As Will struggles to find a way to answer that doesn't expose the Chesapeake Ripper as an omega right after his new mate and primary Chesapeake Ripper suspect was outed as one, Hannibal steps in.
"It's my fault, Jack. I thought I had more time before my heat was due. Will must've caught wind of my pre-heat state, triggering a rut in him and, in turn, a full heat in me."
Jack looks from Hannibal to the lump under the blanket that is Will.
"Will? That what happened?"
Will pokes his head out, shame and embarrassment written clear across his features. "Yeah, Jack. That's about the size of it."
Jack looks satisfied, if still annoyed, by the explanation. "Fine. Get yourselves cleaned up and out of what's left of my crime scene."
Will's knot had long since deflated during the conversation with Jack, and it slipped out of Hannibal now, drawing an involuntary whimper out of the psychiatrist at the loss.
Jack flushes at the sound and moves to leave, hollering for am EMT to bring over some towels.
"And Will, see me before you leave. We need to talk."
Will sighs at that, knowing where this is going, "Sure, Jack."
-------------------------
About half an hour later, Will and Hannibal are cleaned up as best they can, with water from a nearby spigot and dressed in the ever flattering FBI tracksuits they give to trainees, spares dug out of an FBI van by an eye-contact-avoiding Zeller.
Hannibal gives Will a chaste kiss on the cheek as they walk towards his Bentley, parked at the very back of all the police vehicles.
"Come home with me tonight, Will. I've recently come into a lovely cut of meat," he says with a miraculous straight face as Will gives him a knowing look, "I'll make us dinner and we can have all those conversations we so desperately need to have."
Will considers it before responding, "Sure. But I have to go talk to Jack and stop by my place to feed the dogs first."
"How about, I'll wait in the car and arrange some dog sitting while you go to talk to Uncle Jack."
Will sighs, warm and grateful for his new partner, his new mate.
"Thanks, Hannibal. I'll be right back."
"And I'll be waiting. Good luck, Will."
Will turns away from his gorgeous new mate with some difficulty, wanting nothing more than to never be apart from him again. He begrudgingly walks towards Jack's SUV, trying to ignore the eyes that follow him with their knowing smiles.
"Hi, Jack."
"Tell me something, Will," Jack says in his calm, angry voice, pointing at the corpse of the alpha, still in the heap he landed in when Will threw him at Hannibal, "Was this guy killed by an alpha?"
Will lies with ease, somehow unsurprised by how OK he is with that now, "Yes."
Jack sighs, already knowing where this is going but wanting to hear it from Will directly.
"Is this a Ripper killing?"
"Yes."
"Hannibal is an omega?
Will laughs a small humorless laugh at that, "As we discovered today, yes."
"Yeah, some of us more intimately than others."
Will flushes before responding, "Get to the point, Jack."
He sighs, a world weary sigh, "Our profile said the Ripper was an alpha, Will. That was a pretty damn important part of the profile."
"Yeah..."
Jack raises his voice, pointing an angry finger at Will, "Is the profile wrong, or were you wrong?"
Will gives his own sigh, "Guess I was wrong, Jack."
Jack huffs, disappointment heavy in his gaze. Will can feel his frustration as he realizes he lost the only suspect he ever had. But Will can't bring himself to care. He can't tell if it's due to the burgeoning bond he just established with Hannibal, or the less literal one they had been building ever since he'd resumed his therapy. Perhaps both. Either way, he now had the answer to the question Jack had posed him one night in his office: whose man is he?
"I guess you owe Hannibal an apology," Jack begrudgingly admits.
"I'll go do that," Will says as he makes to leave, grateful for the escape route. He stops to place a hand on Jack's shoulder. "I guess it actually was Chilton all along."
Jack doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't look unconvinced either. He just looks tired.
Will leaves Jack to his musings, a smile playing on his lips as he makes his way through the crowd of investigators. Ahead, he can see Hannibal in his ostentatious car bearing a secret smile of his own.
Will gets in the car and is immediately overwhelmed by Hannibal's scent, left to build up in the small space.
"Oh my god, Hannibal," he growls, struggling to keep his head clear under the onslaught of pheromones.
"Yes, it seems my heat isn't fully over yet," Hannibal responds demurely, looking at Will from under his lashes.
"Stop looking at me like that and get us home quick, or we're going to give everybody a second show."
Hannibal turns to the wheel, smiling, and drives them away from the crime scene.
"What a pity that would be," he smirks as Will groans, burying his beet red face in his hands once more.