POISON

by elfin


1 & 3 from �Poison�, Alice Cooper
2 from �Someone Always Hates Someone�, by Mike & the Mechanics


PART ONE


�Last night I shook hands with the devil in a dream that I can never lose� (2)



Jack Crawford steeled himself for what would greet him when he stepped into the beach house. 

He hadn�t seen or spoken to Will in five years and had no idea where the man was living now.  There had been no answer to his calls and now he was here he knew there was no longer anyone living in the secluded beach house. 

Five years since Jack had come here and all but blackmailed Will into returning with him to Atlanta to investigate the Tooth Fairy case.

Five years since Will had wound up in the hospital again; endured seventeen hours of life-saving surgery to remove five bullets from his body and repair the damage they�d left in their wake.

Will�s wife, Molly, had left him, taking their son with her, as he�d lain in the coma.  Safer that way, she�d said.  Hannibal Lecter had said that too.

Despite that, despite knowing Will was alone, Crawford had stayed away. 

He�d blamed himself for Dolarhyde attacking Will, for the horrifying stand-off that the man he�d once considered his best friend had been forced to endure to protect his family.

He still blamed himself.  He�d convinced himself that Will wouldn�t ever want to see him again.

But two days ago, Lecter had escaped from Tennessee.  He was gone, vanished yet again from under the noses of the FBI.  And Crawford was terrified that he�d go after the man who caught him.


For months after he�d found Will at Lecter�s townhouse that terrible night, Jack had spent night after night caught in nightmares.  The same dream, again and again.


He�s at a dinner party in a grand dining room.  He sits opposite his lovely wife. 

The general chatter around the table is polite and quiet.  One lady, dressed in pink, laughs a little too loudly and is quickly silenced by her scowling husband. 

The door opens.  Lecter enters wearing an immaculate suit and carrying a large china platter.  He leans over Jack�s shoulder and lifts the lid.  The scent is sickening.  Rich meat, dark and pink. 

Crawford looks up and Lecter smiles at him.

�Will you have some Will?� he asks.  

And Jack wakes up screaming.


It took a long while for the nightmare to fade and for it to become easier to sleep, easier to breathe, easier to live.  Will had moved to Florida with his wife and son.  Jack Crawford had allowed Hannibal Lecter to become a memory, for a little while at least.


He�d meant to come sooner.  He�d tried to call, left countless messages with the answer machine here in the house, with Will�s cell phone messaging service.  Finally he�d called Molly who had no idea where her estranged husband was.  Even if she did, she�d assured him in no uncertain terms, she wouldn�t tell Jack.


The secluded beach house lay just on the edge of the small town of Marathon.  Crawford hadn�t known where else to start.

The garden was overgrown now.  The skeletons of three small wooden boats were buried in the reeds.  The boardwalk was rotted through.

The outer and inner doors swung free on rusted hinges.  The creaking of old wood and the screech of metal on metal were the only sounds save for the brushing of the waves onto the shore. 

Crawford pushed open the doors and stepped cautiously into the house.  There was no one here.  There had been no one here for many years, he suspected.

He�d known in his heart that Will wouldn�t be here.  He�d come back to find answers to questions he didn�t have the courage to ask.  He�d come back searching for a conclusion to a tragedy he still felt responsible for.

He was terrified of the possibility that his conclusion would be Will�s cold corpse.

The mirror in the hall was smashed.  This, he knew, was how Will had known that the Tooth Fairy was in his house that awful night.  He�d seen the mirror, heard the telephone and before Jack had spoken a word to the answer machine that had picked up his call, Will had known.  He�d taken two kitchen knives and headed upstairs where he�d found his son in the grasp of Dolarhyde, a blade at the young boy�s throat.

Crawford took the stairs one at a time, trying to imagine what it must have been like.  To know.  To walk towards something that scared the life out of you.  To understand that you probably wouldn�t live through the next ten minutes but as long as he didn�t either, that was okay.  As long as your family survived, it would be all right.

Stopping at the top of the stairs, Crawford listened for a long time.  The house wasn�t just quiet, it was dead.  There was nothing here anymore; no soul, no spirit.  Only the echoes of love and laughter from happier times long since forgotten.

He took one step forward.  Then another.  The second door on the left was Josh�s bedroom.  It was where Will had discovered Dolarhyde with his son. 

Crawford stood in the doorway and looked around the child�s room.  The clothes and toys were gone.  Molly � Will�s wife � had packed and left for Atlanta while Will had still been unconscious in Miami�s Mercy Hospital.  There was very little left to indicate what had happened here.

But Crawford had the gift of knowing.  He�d read the police report and months later he�d listened to a tape of Will talking in a dead voice about the sequence of events that night.

Dolarhyde had threatened to slice open Josh�s throat, to murder Molly while Will watched and then to finally take his revenge on Will himself.  Crawford had known of too many people like Dolarhyde, he cursed his own imagination � fired by knowledge � when it conjured up all the ways Dolarhyde might have kept Will alive for hours, days.  Torturing, hurting, raping.

Shaking those black thoughts, Crawford looked again at the reality of the empty room.  Once Josh had been away from Dolarhyde, Will had fought the intruder.  He�d been cut on the cheek, sliced open by Dolarhyde�s knife, but he had managed to stab the madman in the thigh before hurrying Josh into the master bedroom and locking them both inside.

Backing out of the room, Crawford turned toward the bedroom at the end of the corridor.  What was left of the slatted door hung from abused hinges.  He looked down and saw that the carpet ahead of him was now dark with damp.  But Dolarhyde�s blood still marked the place where he�d fallen.  Will had shot him three times, Molly had shot him twice.  One of the bullets had pierced his skull and driven into his brain.  Still, he had not died instantly.

Treading carefully, Crawford stepped over the dark, almost black, stains into the bedroom beyond.

The blood on the carpet in here was Will�s.  He and Dolarhyde had stood two yards from one another, separated only by the flimsy bedroom door, and fired repeatedly through the splintering wood, bullets hitting their marks one after the other after the other.

No one knew who had dropped first.  Dolarhyde, Crawford suspected.  Will wouldn�t have given up, wouldn�t have allowed himself to stop until he was sure Molly and Josh were safe; despite the pain, despite his lung collapsing, his stomach and liver bleeding into the rest of his body.

Turning, trembling, Crawford dropped to sit on the unmade bed.  The wardrobe had been raided; Will�s clothes still hanging there, Molly�s gone.  He looked around, noting that everything that had made this her room too was gone.

She�d left in a hurry, no doubt unable to face the evidence of what had happened in her family home, of the shattering of her peaceful life.  All because he � Crawford � couldn�t leave Will to spend the rest of his days recovering from the hurt that Lecter had already caused him two years before.  He�d had to get him involved because desperate times caused for desperate measures and he couldn�t have been more desperate.

The Tooth Fairy had been about to kill a third family.  What else could he have done?  Who else could do what Will could do?  But in saving the lives of strangers, he�d put in danger the life and sanity of a friend. 

Rubbing his face with his hands, Crawford looked around at the devastated room.  He glanced at the window and something caught his eye.  A book � square, thick and bound with slim leather straps � was sitting on the windowsill.  Unlike everything else in the room, it wasn�t covered in a layer of dust.

Standing, crossing the room, Crawford lifted the top cover and read the scrawled writing on the top page.




Molly, if you ever come back and find this, I know it�ll upset you.  But I need you to understand this, I need you to know after all this time what the world never knew.  Give my love to Josh, when you took him from me you took a part of me.  After reading this, you�ll know that there isn�t much of me left.  What there is, I�m taking away with me. Don�t ever try to find me, don�t let Jack try either.  Will




Frowning, heart racing, Jack picked up the volume with only a moment�s hesitation and sat back down on the bed.  He settled the heavy pages on his knees and dropped open the cover and the first page open to start to read.



2/3/1979

This killer of young girls is driving me slowly insane.  I can�t do this alone but I don�t know where to turn.  Jack thinks I�m the only one who can find this guy, who can get inside his head.  He believes the crap Alan�s been feeding everyone who�ll listen about this gift he thinks I have.  I know full well what I can do and it�s no gift.  More like a curse.

Alan talks out of his butt at the best of times, love him as I do.  He doesn�t want me doing this and his reason for wanting me off the case is that I�m too good.  Go figure.  I have no idea what he thinks Crawford�s going to say but I know what he isn�t.

Whatever.  I need some help on this one.  There�s a forensic psychologist in Baltimore.  Dr. Hannibal Lecter.  He comes very highly recommended, even Alan grudgingly admitted that he was, and I quote, �quite good�.  Praise indeed coming from Alan.

I have an appointment in the morning at his consulting room in his townhouse.  I have to do something because this guy isn�t going to stop and I know they�re going to find another little girl sooner rather than later.  I don�t want any more blood on my hands.




2/15/1979

Oh God.  We found him.  Dr Lecter was right.  His name is Jacob Garrett Hobbs.  He�s a construction worker by trade.  I showed the doctor the metal shaving we found on the third victim.  He suggested our guy was a plumber or some sort of construction worker.  It took us two straight days and nights but we found something and it nailed him.

I took a cop and we went over to his place.  But he�d already killed his wife and when I got into the apartment he was cutting up his own daughter.  I shot him, over and over, but he wouldn�t die he just kept cutting.

I don�t know if I�ll ever sleep again




2/21/1979

Surprise, surprise.  Since that afternoon at Hobbs� apartment, seeing his wife, seeing his daughter, I�ve had an hour�s sleep a night and I always wake up screaming. 

I�m scaring Molly.

I begged Alan to take me as a patient but he refused.  He, in turn, begged me to go to a hospital.  He didn�t say it in so many words, but he thinks I should have myself committed.  There�s something to be said for the idea.  It�ll be quiet at least.  I won�t have to think.  Won�t have to pretend I�m interested in anything any more.

I won�t have to listen to the voices in my own head.



Of course Jack had known that Will had had himself committed to the Bethesda Naval Hospital in the winter of �79.  The man had withdrawn into himself.  By the time he�d left home temporarily Molly had confessed to Jack that she was relieved he�d taken Alan Bloom�s advice.

It wasn�t surprising, then, that the next date in his journal was after he checked out of the psychiatric wing.



6/28/1979

To say I�m back would be a lie.

I�ve spent four months with no one but myself for company and I don�t like who I am.  Molly came to see me but she didn�t bring Josh.  She didn�t want to scare him she said and I don�t blame her.  I didn�t really want him to see me like that.

Did it help, sitting on a bed or on a windowsill, hours on end, locked deep inside my own mind?   Working through the labyrinth of images and phrases, tripping over memories and side-stepping nightmares.

I have no idea who I am.  Am I Hobbs?  Did I shave the metal from water pipes that I later used to make marks in the skin of my unfortunate students?  Did I rape those girls, take them when they most trusted me?  Some of them fantasised about me� Hobbs.  Not me.  Not me.

Not me.

Who am I?

Dr Lecter came to see me in the hospital.  He�d been away but on his return he�d been told about me.  I think Alan phoned him.  I think Alan was worried because he�d told me to go to the hospital and he thought it had gone too far.  I think Alan was worried he would lose me forever, that I�d never come out.

So he called Dr Lecter who came to see me.  He watched me for a long time, not saying a word.  And then he reached for me, grasped my shoulders until it hurt too much for me to ignore and said, �this isn�t you, Will.  You�re not in there, you�re out here.  Come out now, let me help you.�

He�s thrown me a lifeline.

I�ve grabbed at it like a drowning man.  I�m pathetic.  I�m not worth his time.




7/2/1979

Dr Lecter called.  I told him I wasn�t worth it.  He told me that was nonsense.  I couldn�t remember anyone actually using that word before.

I told him I couldn�t afford his fees.  He told me not to worry myself about money. 

He told me he would look upon me as a professional challenge.  I laughed.

I haven�t laughed in too many months.  He asked me to drop by tomorrow.  I promised.  Maybe I�ll keep that promise.




7/9/1979

Molly misses me, I think.  Would I feel less guilty if I knew for certain that she didn�t?

In the last week I�ve barely been home.  I didn�t know.  I had no idea.  How could I have known what he was, what he would be for me? 

The first evening I went to see Hannibal we sat in his consulting room for a couple of minutes, him looking at me over steepled fingers, me looking anywhere and everywhere but at him.  Then he stood up and smiled and motioned for me to follow him.  We went through into the lounge.  He poured me what even I know was a very expensive whiskey and we sat on the high-backed leather couch.

We didn�t talk about me.  We talked about Baltimore, about the symphony orchestra he�s a patron of.  He asked me about Molly and Josh but I found I didn�t want to talk about them.  He told me I didn�t have to talk about myself until I was ready, but that he�d like to try very shallow hypnosis to see if he could take the raw pain from the recent memories.

I went back to work the next day and Jack offered me a lecture, once a week, on the final year forensics stream. He�s worried about me, I can tell.  But there�s nothing I can do to reassure him at the moment.

It was late when I finally plucked up the courage to return to Hannibal�s townhouse but he didn�t seem to mind.  He hypnotised me - took me under slowly.  I didn�t feel anything but a slight skew in my perception.  I was able to look at things from an outsider�s point of view and when he brought me out of it everything was just a little bit easier somehow.

We sat in the lounge again and drank whiskey.  This time I did talk to him.  I started and I couldn�t stop.  He sat and listened to me for hours.  Hobbs, the academy, that thing Alan calls my gift; I told Hannibal everything.  No one had ever had so much of me and I know now no one ever will.

It�s terrifying but at the same time it�s sheer exhilaration.  I caught a taxi back that night.  But not the next. 

I had no reason for going back, but I went anyway.  The tension was palpable between us.  I guess we both knew what was going to happen.  We silently teased one another over dinner, which he cooked, and over whiskey, which he poured. 

I�ve never felt as relaxed as I feel in his company, as safe as I feel just sitting with him on that leather sofa.  When we first kissed we shared a mouthful of whiskey.  The taste of him under the liquor, the slow play of his tongue over mine, in my mouth.

.
.
.



Crawford read the lines over again, his mouth dry.  For a moment he was able to believe that the kiss was all they�d shared.  He could imagine that his prot�g�, one of his best friends and once upon a time his finest officers hadn�t been emotionally and physically involved with a serial killer, the man who almost killed him.  Twice.

But only for a moment.



.
.
.

He led me to the bedroom that night holding my hand.  I felt like a teenager again right up to the moment that he put his hand on my cock and made me come in a second.  I almost slipped back.  The word �pathetic� was on the tip of my tongue when he kissed me.

He told me it was what I�d needed and that we could take it easy now.  And that�s what we did.  We stayed in bed for twenty-four hours.  When we got hungry for more than each other he made waffles and coffee, later he cooked these wonderful little Thai pastries that we ate off one another.

Whatever we were doing, we weren�t making love.  It wasn�t anything that romantic.  But it was more than fucking, and for the first time in a very long time I felt like I belonged.

He held me like I was something so precious.  When I turned under him after the first time, he held himself over me, smiled at me with this expression of amazement.  I asked him when he�d last been with someone and he answered, �longer than I can remember�.  I believed him.

When I left two days after I arrived, I told him thanks.  He said �you make it sound like you�re not coming back.�  Before I could respond, he smiled and closed the door behind me.

I did go back. 

He hypnotised me, took me just a little deeper and rooted out the monsters that stalked my nightmares.  When I came to, he told me �you should at least sleep better now, Will.�

I love how he says my name.  I love him, in my own way.  He�s done more for me than anyone ever has and he hasn�t asked for anything in return.  Except what I�m more than willing to give.



Crawford looked away from the square pages, surprised by the tears in his eyes.  He wiped them away with the heel of his hand.

He tried to remember, tried to recall if anything Will had said or done should have opened his eyes to what was going on.  But he knew deep inside that Will was smarter than that.  If he didn�t want anyone to know, no one would have known.  He�d kept it from Molly after all, why should he � Crawford � have worked it out?

He turned the page and found that the next date was almost four months on.  Will had either removed the other pages, or he�d never written them.



11/12/1979

The papers came up with a nickname this morning � �The Chesapeake Ripper�. I guess it was only a matter of time.

Hannibal and I went through the case files again this evening.  Even with his help we�re not getting any closer to this one.

There�s only a vague pattern and that�s the trophies this one�s taking.  The victims aren�t connected, the MO is never the same.  There were months between the first two victims � the first two we know of �
a day between the next two.  Since then there�s been nothing.

He�s as stumped as I am about the meaning of that.

I�ve been so busy recently, we haven�t seen much of one another.  He�s angry that Crawford�s got me working this case.  It took me almost a year to recover after Hobbs.  Hannibal had much to do with that.  I guess he�s worried I�m going to lose myself again.

I won�t.  Hannibal�s keeping me anchored.

Last week, Molly told me I was working too hard.  I felt guilty then for what�s between Hannibal and me.  I would never cheat on my wife with another woman but he gives me something I can�t get from Molly.  He lets me let go.

I can be vulnerable with him.  I can hand over control to him.  I can submit to him.  I can be myself.  I can talk about the things I see when I read case files.  He�s happy to walk around in my head when I let him.  He lets me trust him when I allow myself to.

Two days ago we made love on the leather sofa in the lounge of his town house.  Last week he fucked me with a knife against my left nipple.

He knows the parts of me that I�d kept buried for so long I didn�t remember they were there.  Until he set them free.  He�s taught me that there�s so much more to me than even I knew.  He told me that all this stuff that�s in my head has an effect on me.  And he told me it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

�Of course it does, Will.  It�s who you are.  You can�t ignore it, can�t pretend it�s not there just as you can�t act on it.  But it has to come out, has to be released or it�ll drive you insane.�

That night he used a dildo on me, preventing my climax for over two hours.  I was sobbing when he finally swallowed every drop that pumped painfully from me.  I slept like a baby in his arms after that.

It�s what he is to me.  Release.  From everything this fucking miserable world has done to me.



Crawford knew history.  He knew what was coming in the very intimate words he was reading but still he couldn�t help but dread it.

There was a gap in the journal between that last entry and the inevitable.  Just one single entry that had been written the night Will had gone to see Lecter.  The same night they�d almost killed one another.



1/2/1980

Oh God.



~

You're poison runnin' through my veins (1)

~



4/22/1980

Jack called.  I�m shattered.  And Jack called.

He wants me to testify at the trial.  He wants me to tell the judge and the jury what happened the night my lover practically killed me.  Not that he knows, of course.  Han Lecter�s just another serial killer to be locked up for life.

Even now I don�t know how I feel about it.  About him.  I know I wake up every night seeing his face so close to mine and feeling that pain in my side like an agonising white-hot heat.  But I don�t scream.  I don�t scream because I don�t believe it.  I still don�t believe it.




4/23/1980

Molly visited.  Jack asked her to convince me to testify.

She�s gone now.

They don�t know what he was to me.  Can I stand in front of a jury and lie to them?  Will he tell his lawyer what was between us for it all to come out in court?

Do I give a fuck?




6/1/1980

He got life. He pleaded insanity but the jury weren�t convinced.  They convicted him on nine counts of first degree murder.  They�ve sent him to Baltimore Asylum for the Criminally Insane.

He didn't look at me once. 

I looked at him.  Just sideways glances, not sure I was able to meet his eye. 

I shot him four times that night, Jack told me.  I remember the sound of breaking glass and thinking that one of the bullets must have gone wild.  I had no idea what I was doing, just that I wanted him away from me because I knew he was going to kill me and for some reason I still can't fathom, at that moment in time I didn't want to die.

Perhaps Alan's right when he says that our survival instinct is the dominant force within ourselves.  It's more difficult to give up than it is to survive.

All anyone said about us - he and I - was that he'd assisted on the Hobbs case and was assisting on the Ripper case in the same capacity, as a forensic expert in the field of psychology.  When I testified, sitting in my wheelchair next to the witness box, I lied about everything except what had happened from the moment he'd stabbed me with that stiletto.

I told them I'd arrived just after 1am, we'd gone into his study and talked for a while.  I said I'd told him I'd realised that our killer had a cannibalistic streak but I still couldn't get close enough to say more.  He told me to go home, get some sleep and come back in the morning, then he went to fetch my coat.  I got up and walked to the bookshelf, with no real purpose.  But I found the book - Larousse Gastronomique - opened it at the page marked and read that one word - 'Sweetbreads' - written next to a recipe I couldn't understand and didn't need to.

When the prosecutor asked how I knew from a single word, I couldn't give him a satisfactory answer.  I'd known for a long time, I said, I just hadn't believed myself until that moment. 

I'm an expert when it comes to deception.

I didn't mention the long, deep kiss in the hallway just after I arrived.

I didn't mention his playing with my fingers as I leaned over his desk when we talked.

I didn't mention the shoulder massage he gave me before he left the room, or that I'd never planned on leaving to return home.  He hadn't left the room for my coat, I thought he'd gone to fetch us a couple of brandys.

When I read that single, terrible word it was more than horror I felt.  My heart had broken.  My world had shattered, shards of myself piercing everything I believed to be true.  When I turned, and he was there, he'd embraced me in that same way so many times before I moved into it.

The flash of agony was almost countered by the shock of knowing I'd been betrayed.  I thought I knew him.  I know he knew - knows - me better than anyone ever has.  I never knew him.  I was blinded by what I felt for him and I couldn't have ever found the words to express the bitter pain of loss even as the sharp blade sliced into me.

I left out everything and his own lawyer knew no better.  Not once was my background of mental instability mentioned.  Lecter knew about it.  Why he didn't use it in his defence I guess I'll never know.  I suppose it wouldn't have made too much difference.  The local cops had found his basement.  Even I hadn't known about that.  It's where I'd have ended up if I hadn't managed to grab those arrows and stab them into him so hard they almost came out of his back. 

I try not to equate the man I slept with to the man who's now locked up in the maximum-security wing of a asylum for the criminally insane.  I try not to search my memories for clues of who he was. 

I try not to think of the meals we shared.  For that way lies madness and I don't want to be like him.  I don't want to think like him anymore.




12/25/1980

It�s strange to think that this time last year I was the most at peace I�ve ever been.  With myself, with who I am.  With my family even, as weird as that sounds.  All Molly knows is that I was attacked in the line of duty by Lecter when he realised how close I was to unmasking him.

I wish it were that simple.  I wish I hadn�t seen the heat in his eyes, heard the affection in his voice when he�d murmured to me that �every game must have its end�.  I hadn�t realised my life, my feelings for him had been a game.  I�d believed every word he�d said.  I�d fallen for the gentle massages and seductive shared smiles.   The caressing voice, talented hands, torturous mouth.

I used to think Lecter was an elixir I couldn't get enough of.  A balm for the horrific things I have in my head.

He's not.  He's poison.



Jack lifted his head and gazed out of the window.  He could hear the rush of the waves at the evening tide and the quiet breeze in the palm trees.  He knew why Will had come here, how he�d managed somehow to find peace in this place.

He hated himself for dragging Will into the Tooth Fairy case.  He�d had no choice, he�d convinced himself.  Would someone else have seen the video tape connection?  Would another family have died before they did? 

But what was Will�s life weighed against that of five strangers?  His confidence and God alone knew what else had been destroyed by Lecter.  His sanity had been shot to hell by Dolarhyde.  What remained after that?  Molly had left the shell of her husband lying helpless in a hospital bed.  Even she hadn�t known how deeply Lecter had hurt him.

Wiping tired eyes, Crawford looked back to the journal in his hands. 

Here in Florida it seemed that Will had set aside his old life and had settled uneasily into the safe embrace of his family. 

The next entry in his journal surprised Jack.



6/5/1983

The Tooth Fairy.  That�s what they�re calling him.  He bites his victims, more than usual I suspect.

I don�t want to be thinking about it but I am. 

I know what he is.




6/6/1983

Molly�s thrown away the newspapers.  I�ve fallen in love with her all over again.

Sometimes I think I�ll tell her about Lecter, confessing everything I�ve kept from her for so long.  But the thought alone is enough to bring on the dreams that haunted me for months after I left the hospital.  They�re not nightmares.  They�re just enough that they leave me with insomnia for nights on end.

And I just don�t know if I want to share that part of him with anyone.  The media psychoanalysed him for months.  Not that I was aware of it at the time.

I don�t know what Molly would do if I told her.  I don�t think she�d leave me but she�d only stay because of what happened after.

My head is a mess of this stuff.

We made love out on the boardwalk after Josh had gone to bed.  I love the balmy heat of this place.




6/11/1983

Jack�s come and gone.  First time I�d seen him in two years and he blackmails me.  He knows me!  He knows I wouldn�t be able to look at the photos of the dead families and ignore what�s happening.  He has everyone he needs, including Alan.  I begged him not to involve me.

He still did. 

I don�t know why I�m going with him.  I don�t know why I didn�t tell him to leave me alone.  I wanted to.  I didn�t want to pick up the photographs but something made me.  There�s something inside me that needs to go back and it scares me to death.

Maybe it�s the something that keeps me dreaming of the man who wrecked me.

I�m going to Atlanta, and I don�t know if I�m going to help catch a killer, or to find whatever it was I left behind.




6/12/1983

Did I know this was going to happen?  Did I somehow know Jack would ask this of me?  Is this what I�ve been searching for, hoping for?  A chance to see him again?

It�s some crazy time in the morning and I can�t sleep.  My stomach�s churning, empty except for the whiskey I drank earlier.  My heart�s pounding, pulse is racing.

I spoke to Molly this evening but I didn�t tell her I was flying to Baltimore tomorrow.

Can I really face him again?




6/13/1983

Why the fuck didn�t I just fly back to Florida?

An hour passed between my leaving the asylum and calling Jack.  I sat in my car and sobbed like Josh does when he�s really hurt himself.  I feel like Lecter�s torn my skin off and touched me somewhere so deep inside I won�t ever be able to get him off me.

I know what he�s done and I know what he is, so why do I feel this connection with him?  He said we were very much alike, but we�re not!  We can�t be!  He�s a brutal serial killer and although I know how he thinks, although he�s always in my head, I�m nothing like him.

I used to step through the front door of his town house into his arms.  A couple of times we didn�t get much further into the house, fucking against the banisters.  His thick cock inside me, his strong arm around my chest, holding me back against him, his mouth on my throat, fingers on my nipples.

When I saw him behind the glass there was thinly veiled hate in his eyes.  His first words to me were mocking and it was hard to believe he was the same man who�d been my lover for five months.  His tone was at first bitter and as hard as it is to admit, when that changed, when his voice changed, became what it was so long ago, I clung to it like a lifeline.

For two years he�d been the monster everyone else saw him as.  Molly rightfully hated everything that he was.  Crawford referred to him as �a resource�.  Now I�d seen him, not as I once had but as he was now, without the mask.

He hates me as much as I hate him.  And I do.  He used me, made me believe in something so intense I was convinced it was what I�d been aching for my entire life.  Then he betrayed me.  When I got too close he tried to kill me and eat me like he�d done all the others.

I�ve seen the photos.  I know what he did to his victims.  I know what he did to me.  I was shattered by him, everything I believed in smashed against the same hard wood floor he�d ever-so-gently lowered me to.

I was attracted to him because he knows me better and more intimately than anyone ever will.

 That hasn�t changed.  I wish more than anything that it had.




6/15/1983

Face to face.  No glass.  For a moment I could believe there was just the two of us again.

My heart was pounding before I stepped into the gym.  As he walked toward me it was the hardest thing in the world to stand still.  The chain snapping at its limit did nothing for my composure but when I started to speak to him I was amazed at how steady my voice sounded to my own ears.

Didn�t fool him for a second, of course.  His eyes boring into me, I knew he could see the panic and fear streaking along my nerves, every fibre inside me screaming at me to run.  So I held my ground.  I walked side by side with him and as the seconds ticked passed I could feel myself relaxing.

There�s a part of me that feels safe around him.  For so long I�ve jumped at loud noises, been scared to sleep in the dark, hated people getting close to me.  Just in case.

But with him it�s no longer the nameless, faceless bogeyman who hides in closets and comes out only at night.  He walks in daylight and looks like any other human being.  He�s an immediate danger.

He�s the only place I feel safe.

When he asked me what I�d do if I could back in time, I told him I�d have shot him.  Would I have done?  He asked that very question with his eyes as he commented �very good, we�re making progress�.  Very witty.

Does he give a flying fuck about me?  Is he seducing me all over again because he wants me?  Or is he just winding me up, trying to get a rise out of me so that he can crush me all over again?  What about before?  It�s the one question I�m most desperate to ask and the one subject I daren�t broach.  Did he ever want me or was it always a game?




6/16/1983

Watching Molly fire that gun broke something precious inside me.  I hadn�t even realised that there was anything left to break.

Jack thinks Lecter meant to kill me.  He didn�t.  He knew I was here in Atlanta.  He was after Molly and Josh.  I just don�t know why.




6/17/1983

Chiltern�s cleared out Lecter�s cell.  He�s an asshole.

When I asked him to put me next to the Dragon he flinched.  If I let myself believe that he didn�t want to, that just for a moment he didn�t want this other guy to kill me, would it be all that bad?  Don�t I deserve something to hold on to?

I got pissy with me and he called me William.  He used to do that sometimes, when we were making love or he was trying to explain something about me that I refused to listen to.

I know he�s told me the answer.  I know he�s told me how The Tooth Fairy�s choosing the women who become his victims.  I�ve looked but I haven�t seen.  How many times has he said that to me now?  Looked at what?



When he�d walked into this house, Jack had thought he�d known Will.  He�d been surprised at how okay Will had been with seeing Lecter again, but he�d put it down to the man�s incredible ability to deal with things like that.

Would he have done anything different had he known about their history?  Was it wrong that he�d been happy to send Will to face his killer?  His greatest fear?  But wouldn�t have felt right sending him to face a man who�d once been his lover?

What kind of person was he anyway?

Shaking his head, he wet back to the journal.  The next entry was the calm before the storm.



6/21/1983

Dolarhyde�s place burnt to the ground.  It makes it worse that we�ll never know, I�ll never meet him face to face and see the answers in his eyes to all the questions in my head.

Reba�s doing well.  The first time I spoke to her she was worried that it was something about her that had attracted the freak in Dolarhyde. I tried to reassure her but she insisted she should have known.  I think I said something like, �Sometimes we don�t.  Trust me, I�ve been there myself�.  It�s the first time I�ve talked about Lecter and I, however obliquely, to anyone.

I felt a kinship with her and as good as the company might have done me, I�d have screwed her up even more than she already is.

We�re back home, Molly and Josh and me.

It�s a beautiful afternoon.  We�re going to have dinner out on the boardwalk.  Molly�s bought marshmallows, we�ll see how long it takes Josh to spot them.

It�s good to be back home.

I keep thinking about Hannibal.  In his note, Dolarhyde mentioned Lecter corresponds a lot.  Maybe I�ll write one day.

Molly�s calling.



Jack turned the page and found the final journal entry. 



7/27/1984

Molly�s left me.

I don�t blame her.

Something broke inside of her too that afternoon out on Crawford brother�s farm.

The night here.  Dolarhyde.  He destroyed her.

I�m leaving too.  I�ve bought a yacht.  I�m going out to sea where I won�t have a home address.  Where no one can find me.  I�m heading to the Hawaiian Islands.



That was it. 

There was nothing left here for sure.

Closing the journal he dropped it to the mattress and stood, stretching his sleeping legs.  He had more questions than he had answers.  But at least it told him where Will had gone.  Hopefully he�d be safe out there.

Jack closed the front door behind him.  He doubted anyone would ever return here. 

Eventually, if the house wasn�t claimed and sold, it would rot, collapse.  It would become a grave for too many terrible memories buried for good amongst the rubble.

~ ~ ~

Crawford locked his hotel room door and crossed to the mini bar.  Pouring himself one of the most expensive whiskeys he�d ever had, he dropped back to the bed and reached for the phone.

It went through to Paul Krendler�s office and rang four times before being answered.

�This better be good.�

�Paul?  Jack Crawford.�

�Oh.  Hello Jack.  Did you find Will?�

Jack frowned to himself.  �In a manner of speaking.  Any news?�

He distinctly heard a pause.  �Yeah.  Bad.  Dr Chiltern � you know him?�

�Sure.  He ran the asylum, right?�

�He was found dead this morning.  He�s been badly cut.  His tongue and ears were missing.�

�Lecter.�

�Best guess.�

Yawning, Jack closed his eyes and swallowed a mouthful of whiskey.  �Where was Chiltern found?�

�On one of the Hawaiian Islands.�  Jack�s eyes snapped open.  �Lana�I.  That�s where he�d gone after Lecter�s escape.  Lecter must have followed him there.�  Scrambling off the bed, Jack spilt his drink and almost pulled the phone off the bedside table.  �Jack?  You still there?�

�Paul.  That�s where Will went.  Hawaii.  He went to Hawaii.  I have to go.�


~


Part Two


Hannibal Lecter stretched his shoulders back as he walked through the busy marketplace with his hands in his pockets.

The midday sun was burning hot.  His Panama hat kept the heat from his head and face and he was comfortable in white cotton shirt and loose linen slacks.

His meal last night had been quite satisfactory.  Revenge was indeed a dish best served cold.  With a delicious tomato Coulis.

The only problem with killing Chiltern was that his body would be quickly found.  Lecter hadn�t made any attempt to hide or disguise his work.  He�d already skipped from Lana�I to Maui and he planned to leave the islands today and fly to Italy.  He wanted his view.

But he was satisfied that he was relatively safe for the next few hours before his flight and he perused the fresh fruit on sale from one of the stalls.  He bought a mango and didn�t try to haggle down the price.

His freedom was as precious as he�d always dreamt it would be.  Smelling the rich scents in the fresh air he smiled to himself indulgently.

Something caught his eye and he stopped in his tracks.  Two stalls along a young man was chatting to the seller.  If the back of the sun-bleached head wasn�t familiar enough, he could hear the gentle lilt of a voice that had haunted him for years.

A single whispered word escaped him and he dropped the fruit to the ground.  �Will�.�


�...just a couple of days, May.  I�m sure I�ll be back.� 

May handed Will the brown paper bag.  �We miss you!�  She smiled a wide smile and patted his hand.

As he stepped back from the stall, a firm hand grasped his wrist and a soft voice murmured into his ear, �Hello, Will.�

He froze, his deepest fear recognised.  For a missed heart beat he forgot how to breathe.  Then his pulse started to race, adrenaline pouring into his system.  His whole body tensed, ready to fight if he needed to.

�Did dearest Jack send you?�

Will swallowed, not sure he trusted himself to speak.  The hand on his wrist tightened, grinding his bones against muscle, burning his skin.  He opened his mouth and what came out was a pathetic whimper.

�Where are the dogs?�

�I don�t�.�  He took a deep breath, trying to stave off the panic.  �I don�t know what you�re talking about.�

A pause� and then the grip on his wrist slackened.  �Where�s Crawford?�

�I have no idea.  I� I haven�t seen him in five years.�  The fingers around his arm loosened even further and the thumb started to trace a light pattern on the sensitive skin at his wrist.  When he was sure he could trust his voice, he asked, �When did you get out?�

Will felt the breath on the side of his throat, just below his ear.  �A couple of days ago.�

�You� came after me?�

Another hesitation.  �No.  I followed Chiltern here.�

�Is he dead?�  He knew the answer already.

�Yes.�

Will nodded his head a fraction.  �He probably deserved it.�  He could imagine the curl of Lecter�s lips.

�Yes.�

�And now� that you�ve found me?�

No answer.  And suddenly the hand vanished from his wrist.

He stayed rooted to the spot, unable to speak or move.  He could hear the blood rushing to his head like a tide immersing him.

And then nothing.  Silence.  As if the world had abandoned him there in his own space.

He turned.  Lecter was gone.

~

Will ran the short distance to the shore.  Through the marketplace, crossing what served as Maui�s main road, he rushed down the grass bank that led to the wooden boardwalks of the marina.

Around fifteen boats of varying sizes were moored there.  Will�s luxury yacht was on the end. 

He pounded along the boards until he reached the stern of the boat.  Dropping, he hurriedly untied the stern mooring rope as quickly as his shaking hands would allow.  Tossing it onto the deck he went back down to the bow and crouched to release The Free Spirit from its moorings.

His hands stilled on the thick knot.  He could feel his heart thumping hard against his ribcage but beneath the fear he could feel that base desire, the one that had drawn him to Lecter in the first place.  The ghost of Lecter�s touch was still on his wrist.  That same touch he remembered from before the horror.

Tears blossomed in his eyes and he let them fall.  He kept his hands on the rope.

As frightened as he was at that moment, suddenly he was alive again.

He�d run as fast and as far as he�d been able.  He�d believed himself safe with the ocean all around him.  No one could step out from the darkness, there was nowhere to come from.  He was hiding out in the wide open.

He just hadn�t been able to run from what was in his own mind.  He couldn�t escape the nightmares that still plagued him, worse now that Molly wasn�t at his side to hold him until he could go to sleep again.

But not all his dreams were of terror.  And those others were the really bad ones.

Tears turned to sobs.

He couldn�t run any further.

Leaving the rope tied Will put one foot up on the bow of the boat and ducked under the polished railing.  Padding across the light wood deck he threw open the hatch and jumped the four steps down into the galley.

Someone stepped out of the dim, cool light. 

Will opened his mouth to scream but a strong hand curved around the back of his neck and hard lips pressed against his own in a brutal parody of a kiss.

Will fought, pushing at Lecter�s chest with his hands, kicking out with one foot.  But one arm curled around his waist to hold him in place and at the same time the kiss gentled.  A questing tongue pressed against his lips as a whimper escaped his throat.

And then he gave in and opened his mouth, his own tongue sliding over Lecter�s.

Decision made, Will wrapped his arms around the neck of the shorter man and bunched his shoulders forward, needing to be closer.

Humming with delight, Lecter tilted his head and tasted deeper, skimming his tongue over Will�s palate, behind the white teeth.  Will�s fingers clawed at his back, one skinny leg wrapping around Lecter�s shin as if trying to climb him despite the height difference.

Stretching his fingers to push them up into the short hair at the base of Will�s scalp, Lecter tipped his head back, breaking the intimate contact.

Tears running over his cheeks, a soft sob broke loose from Will�s chest and he grabbed Lecter�s shoulders in an attempt to bring him back.

Lecter brought his hand around to brush his palm over the blond head.  �Ssh.  It�s all right.  I�m not going to hurt you.�

Catching his breath, swallowing back the fierce emotional response, Will stared at Lecter�s mouth, unable to meet the strange maroon eyes he�d gazed into so often in the past.

�Then don�t make me think.�  His voice almost cracked.  �Just fuck me.�

Lecter�s hesitation might have told Will there was more to it than that but instead of analysing it he covered the smiling mouth with his own and the other man acquiesced.

Moving forward a couple of steps Will directed them toward the cabin at the stern of the boat.  He kicked the sliding door open with his foot, stopping Lecter before they collided with the low mattress on the raised platform.

Breaking the kiss, Lecter turned Will in his arms and tipped the blond head back to rest on his shoulder.  The blue eyes were closed, lips moist and swollen.

�You�ve always been so beautiful,� he murmured softly, touching his lips briefly to the lobe of Will�s ear.  Glancing around, he smiled at the messy state the luxurious bed was in.  �And you�ve always had good taste.� 

With one hand he started to unbutton Will�s shirt.  �I loved that in you.  Loved that you always fitted into your surroundings.�  His fingers brushed over the bud of a nipple before tracing down over a circular patch of softly rippled skin.  �When we were in Baltimore you dressed immaculately, perfect black pants, those thick cr�me shirts�.� 

Parting the two sides of the lightweight material he explored the expanse of chest and belly, tracing the sleek lines of Will�s ribs, finding the four other coin-sized scars where Dolarhyde�s bullets had slammed through this body that he worshipped.

�I imagined you in Florida in the same shirt as this.  Sky blue denim to match your eyes, beige shorts and bare feet.  You were wonderfully tanned when you came to see me at the asylum.  Like you are now.�

After spending so much time sailing around the hot Hawaiian islands Will�s skin was golden brown.

Lecter�s voice quieted, so that his words sounded like thoughts more than conversation.  �This yacht� it�s exquisite.  Did the court awarded damages pay for it?  Did what Dolarhyde do to you allow you to escape me at long last?�

�No,� came the answering response, low and not at all amused.  �You�re here.�

Chuckling, Lecter lowered one hand to unbutton and unzip the fly of Will�s white shorts while with the other he eased the shirt away from Will�s shoulders.  Turning his head he buried his lips in the hollow of the collarbone presented to him.

He played his fingertips through coarse dark pubic hair, brushing the root of the hardening penis but not touching it.

Trailing a path of delicate kisses up the long neck to the ear, he finally whispered, �Lie down on your back.�

Hesitating for only a moment Will stepped out of his shorts and underwear, kicked off his shoes and dropped to his knees on the mattress.  He pushed the dark duvet off onto the floor and lay down on the crumpled white sheet.

Lecter looked him over, drinking in the sight greedily.  Only the triangle of skin around Will�s groin was white, even the paler scar tissue looked healthier than it would have done had it not been so long exposed to the sun. 

As he undressed he didn�t once take his eyes from the glorious man awaiting him.  Steady blue eyes watched him right back, the gaze heavy with fear muted only by a fierce, almost desperate arousal.

�I�ve never met anyone like you,� Lecter murmured as he knelt down on the mattress beside Will.  �You know I didn�t find any sexual pleasure in killing and I seldom took anyone to my bed.  That morning you came to see me in the gym, I couldn�t work out then what was in your eyes.  They were shining with something I�d never seen there before.�

Will stared at him, pressing his palms into the sheet, glancing now and again at the long, thick cock jutting up from a soft nest of dark hairs.

�Fear, definitely.  You were so scared of me, of what I might do to you despite the chains and the men with guns.  You knew how fast I could be, knew they might not be in time to save you should I decide to strike�.�

Moving with feline grace, Lecter stretched himself out over Will�s prone form, planted his hands either side of Will�s head and leaned down for a long, deep kiss.

Will�s hands came up to stroke down along the smooth sides of his lover�s torso and settle on his hips.

�But there was something else,� Lecter continued once he�d taken his tongue from the other man�s throat.  Hovering just over him, he smiled before shifting to nip gently at the front of Will�s throat.  �I thought about it for a long time and the realisation of what it had been took my breath away.�

Sucking momentarily on Will�s prominent Adam�s Apple, Lecter lathered the hollow of his throat with his lips and tongue before skipping down over the collarbone to lie with his mouth over one hard nipple.

�You still wanted me.  It was lust in your eyes that morning, barely visible behind the fright and the mask you wore to face me.  But it was there.�

Unable to deny it, Will dropped his head back and screwed his eyes shut as first teeth then firm lips sealed over the hard nub of dark flesh.

Very early on in their relationship Lecter had discovered Will�s love of nipple play.  He�d bought a small selection of clamps and slowly he�d stepped his lover up from the nipping of his teeth to the biting of tiny, fine metal jaws. 

Once, one particularly vicious night, he�d drawn blood from each nipple with the tip of a dagger�s blade and sucked at the red drops like a baby suckling its mother.

Aroused like this, Will loved the sharp pain and warm pleasure that came with what they did.

Lecter moved restlessly from one side to the other, alternatively torturing and comforting, until Will was clawing at his head and back, gasping almost continuously, periodically begging to be released from the conflicting sensations.

Eventually, Lecter took mercy and lifted off the sweating body.  �Turn over, Will,� he murmured softly.

Rolling away from his lover, Will moved until he was half lying on his side, half on his front.  He knew this position of old.  They�d experimented with so many but this one always gave the gentlest fuck he�d ever known.

Kissing along the curved path of Will�s spine, Lecter moved downwards, sliding one hand over a firm buttock, along a muscled thigh until he reached the delicate skin at the back of Will�s left knee.  Pushing it up, he effectively parted the buttocks and exposed Will�s tight anus to his focused gaze.

Smiling to himself, Lecter touched the small ring of muscle, pleased as Will quivered and instantly tried to move away.  Quickly turning himself around, Lecter put a stilling hand on Will�s hip before opening his ass further with his fingers and moving to kiss the anus.

Will groaned, low and long, as Lecter�s firm, wet tongue pushed inside him.  He felt the man�s mouth over his hole as the tongue was pushed deeper, as far inside as Lecter could get.  He wondered vaguely how many men enjoyed doing this as much as his eclectic lover had always done.  Will had never returned the favour, had only once ever actually penetrated Lecter with anything other than his finger.

As restlessly as the assault on his nipples, Lecter�s mouth shifted constantly between his cheeks, the tongue inside him exploring, searching out the sweet spot that would push him towards an orgasm that despite his sharp arousal seemed too far from reach.

Fingers dug into his thighs, not yet reaching for his cock.  He could feel the heat of Lecter�s body pressed against his back, the hot hard throbbing of the man�s own erection pressing somewhere in the region of his neck.

Suddenly, the firm tip of Lecter�s tongue stuck gold and Will yelled at the sharp pleasure that drove through him.  Having found it, Lecter punished that spot again and again, feeling Will�s body jerk each time until he was trembling, held in place by strong hands and an overwhelming need to feel this.

Finally withdrawing his tongue, kissing Will�s bottom sweetly, Lecter moved like a snake over his lover�s slim body until he was face to face with Will�s cock.

Rolling over slightly onto one hip, he instructed Will, �Open your mouth.�  He was obeyed and with ease he thrust his hips slowly forward, pressing his penis between welcoming lips and into the relaxed throat.  Groaning softly as Will began to suck him, he pushed deeper still until his balls were squeezed against Will�s chin.

�Good�.  That�s good.�  He watched for a couple of minutes, pulling back only an inch or so before pressing forward again, rocking back and forth in a gentle rhythm before turning and taking Will�s cock into his own mouth.

He hollowed his cheeks, sucking firmly on the thick erection for a few seconds only to quickly release it again and move to Will�s balls.  He sucked on one at once, rolling the tender orbs around in his mouth, lathering the soft wrinkled skin with his tongue.

He could feel Will�s moans of pleasure around his own shaft and the sensations were just fine.

Alternating between cock and balls, Lecter concentrated on taking Will to the edge of his climax before a quick nip at the foreskin provided enough pain to stop him from falling.

But Will had a talented mouth and after a while Lecter felt his own orgasm closing in.  Reluctantly he extracted his penis, at the same time pushing Will�s knee up to allow him to push a blunt thumb up into his rectum.

Will cried out at the sudden, unexpected penetration but Lecter hushed him, turning and scooting up Will�s body, careful not to dislodge his thumb, to ease the pain with a long kiss. 

Lecter could taste himself in Will�s mouth and deepened the kiss to get more of it.  Will was only too happy to give, lifting his head when Lecter started to back away.

�Easy, my dear Will.�  Leaning up on one elbow, he still managed to stroke his free hand over the damp head of hair.

His other hand he turned back and forth, rotating the thumb inside his lover�s ass.

�It was a shock wasn�t it?  But now it�s not enough.�  Blue eyes begged him for more while Will�s tongue flicked out to wet dry lips.

Obligingly, Lecter withdrew his thumb for the moment and replaced it with his index finger.  He buried that as far up as it would go, bending it slightly, stroking Will�s prostate deliberately.

Will arched his back, rolling forward a little, lifting his leg to rest on top of his lover�s. 

�Still not enough, is it?� Lecter asked seriously.  Withdrawing, he shifted back and let Will lie flat on his stomach to open his thighs wide.  His head turned so that he could meet his lover�s deep red gaze.  Slowly, Lecter brought his hand to his mouth and sucked on each finger in turn, finishing with his thumb.

Then, pushing himself up, straightening his arm so that he could see what he was doing and still watch Will�s reactions, he found Will�s hole again and pressed two fingers passed the restrictive muscle.

He started to move them slowly back and forth, beginning to finger fuck, always pressing as deep as he could, never completely leaving Will�s body.

After a couple of slow thrusts, he added a third finger, his knuckles opening Will painfully wider.

�God�.� 

The first actual word his lover had managed brought a fond smile to Lecter�s face and he bunched his little finger in with the other three.

Will was panting now, eyes closed, lips parted.  Lecter sat up carefully, not breaking the rhythm even when he withdrew his fingers almost all the way and the next time added his thumb to the mix.

Although he only went in to the base of his fingers, the cruel stretching of the sensitive anus elicited a scream from Will.  In the past Lecter had fisted him but it had been after literally hours of ass play and with more lubrication than just saliva.

Realising how much he might really have hurt his lover, Lecter leaned down and replaced fingers with his tongue.  He soothed the now tender hole until Will was moaning with pleasure once again and pushing his ass up to meet Lecter�s gentle thrusts.

It was easy now to slide up the sweat-soaked body and press his cock into Will�s ass.  Lecter rested with just the red tip inside his lover until he heard Will take a deep breath and release it.  Then he pushed all the way inside, ensuring the thick root was stretching Will�s anus unrelentingly.

�I have missed you,� he gasped into the hot neck just beneath his mouth as he lay there, not moving, for a very long time.  Stretching his arm out along Will�s he slid his fingers between those grasping at the sheet and felt them tighten to hold him there.

Not expecting his voiced sentiment to be returned, Lecter arched out from his lover�s ass and thrust back inside hard.

The action forced a grunt from Will�s chest and Lecter found he liked the sound.

He did it again and again, each time easing out a little bit further and thrusting back in as hard as the angle allowed.  Each time, the sound Will made was as arousing as the tight, slick heat around Lecter�s cock.

Eventually it wasn�t enough. 

Moving back to kneel between Will�s legs, leaving the hot channel completely for a few seconds, Lecter gripped Will�s hips and pulled him up onto all fours.

Once in position, Lecter thrust back inside, striking Will�s prostate as his went.  Will swore brightly and pushed back, taking their rhythm to another level; one that was hard and fast.

When he knew he couldn�t hold back any longer, Lecter reached between Will�s open thighs and grasped his painfully aching cock.  He dug his fingernails into its base, stopping the instantaneous orgasm, making Will scream with frustration.  But a few seconds later he wrapped the silky hard shaft in an iron tight grip and using the power of his cock up Will�s ass, forced it through his fist.

A couple more deep thrusts and Will was coming, jets of semen arching over the mattress, coating Lecter�s hand as he caught some and rubbed it over the erupting cock.

The sensations of Will�s orgasm triggered his own and Lecter howled as he came, buried deep inside his lover, stilling as he spilt himself, his cock pulsing again and again.

Exhausted, spent, they collapsed together onto the bed, Lecter�s bulk covering Will�s back, one of his thighs between Will�s.  Their rapidly beating hearts pounded in time with one another. 

Neither of them spoke for the longest time.  Then Lecter eased them both onto their sides and smiled when Will turned over and wrapped himself over his lover.  Their old position, whatever they�d done, however gentle or brutal it had been between them.

�I�m sorry I hurt you,� Lecter whispered softly.

And Will replied, �Which time?�

A minute later Lecter knew the other man had fallen into a sound sleep.  He wondered how long it had been since Will had slept in someone�s arms.

~

Will�s first breath was of coffee and sex.

Lecter was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in his light pants with his shirt on but open.  He was holding a mug of coffee � strong from what Will could smell.

�Thanks.�  Sitting up, finding the duvet wrapped around him, Will took the mug.  �I�ll� I�ll get up.�

Lecter nodded and rose, giving Will privacy to get dressed.


Ten minutes later he padded up on deck, out into the warm evening air.

Lecter was sitting out, ass on the railings, soaking up the sun and sipping his coffee.  He looked across and caught his breath. 

Will had showered.  His damp hair had been towel-dried and was sticking up at all angles until he combed his fingers through it self-consciously.

He wore a white cotton shirt over light blue denim shorts, his feet bare.

Lecter smiled affectionately.

�It�s a beautiful evening, Will.  Going to be a hot night.�

Will nodded.  �It�s always hot here.�  Crossing to lean on the opposite railing, he folded one arm around his chest and drank his coffee.  �How long have you been here?�

�I flew in to Lana�I yesterday.�  He paused.  �You haven�t asked me how I escaped.�

Shrugging, Will responded, �Does it matter?  You�re here.�

�It matters to some people.�

�People who will come after you.�

�Yes.�  Lecter sighed softly.  �Where are Molly and Josh?�

�She left me after Dolarhyde.�

�She left you?�  He was genuinely surprised.  �Why?�

�Because I told her to shoot him in the head.�

�Did she?�

�Yes.�

�And then she left you.  Were you still in the hospital?�

He hesitated for just a second.  �I was in a coma.�

�Do you think she still loves you?�

Will shrugged.  �I have no idea.  I don�t care.  I bought a boat with some of the money the court awarded me in damages.  I went back to the house in Florida to pick up a photograph of them and leave my journal for Molly to find.  Then I left.  I drove to Lauderdale, picked up the boat, bought clothes and supplies�.�

�And left it all behind.�

�I tried.�

Lecter nodded.  �I�m sorry, Will.�

�No you�re not.�  But there was no accusation in his voice.  �You tried to kill them, giving Dolarhyde my home address when you knew I wasn�t there.�

�But he got to you anyway.  I underestimated him.  If you and Molly hadn�t killed him I�d be going to find him now.�

Will frowned, cocking his head to one side.  �For me?�

�For you.  Does that make you feel uncomfortable?�

Thinking for a moment, he shrugged lightly.  �I honestly don�t know.  You�re leaving aren�t you?�

Lecter nodded.  �My flight leaves in�� he checked his watch, �just over an hour.�

�Where will you go?�

�Italy.�

Blue eyes met maroon.  �Your view?�  Spoken with a smile.

�My view.�  Will hesitated, but he pushed off the metal and went to stand next to where Lecter was leaning.  �Going to tell them where I�ve gone, Will?�  He shook his head.  �I know you won�t.�

�Hannibal�.  That night� what went before�.�

�You don�t think I ever cared about you, do you?�

Will turned his head and gazed into the eyes of his lover.  �How am I supposed to know what to believe?�

�I didn�t make a habit of taking FBI agents to bed.�

�I know.  It�s� what you said when you attacked me.  �Every game must have its end.��

Lecter shook his head minutely.  �The joys of an eidetic mind, ay, Will?  Yes, I cared for you.  I still care for you.  I know you won�t believe this but I think I might have loved you.�

Blinking away unexpected tears, Will glanced away for just a moment.   �You killed me.  Didn�t give me a chance to� to��

�To what?  You were going to shoot me.�

�Arrest you.�

�Same thing.  You denied me my freedom.  As I denied you yours.�

Will found himself both touched and comforted.  Lecter could crawl around in his mind as easily as he could crawl around in Lecter�s.

For a short time they stood in a companionable silence drinking coffee like two ordinary holidaymakers.

�What are you doing out here, Will?�

�Running.�  He chuckled into his mug.  �Didn�t do me much good, did it?  Like Florida.  You still found me.�

�This time it was a coincidence.�

�You weren�t planning on finding me?�

�No.  I prefer knowing you�re alive.�  He threw Will an intimate, sideways smile.  �Put it down to old age.�

�You didn�t feel old a couple of hours ago.�

�No, I didn�t.�

Finishing his coffee, Lecter took the empty mug down into the galley.  When he reappeared, his shirt buttoned, Will hadn�t moved.

�Will I see you again?�

A few strides took Lecter to stand in front of his lover.  �Do you want to?�  When no answer was forthcoming, he closed the space between them.  Will met him in an open-mouthed kiss.  �Coincidences can happen at any time.  Take care, Will.�

He watched Lecter step down to the boardwalk, cross to the grassy bank and stroll up it without looking back. 

Tears collected in his eyes and escaped over his cheeks but he let them fall. 

He watched until the other man vanished from sight then he went to the stern of the boat, jumped down onto the boards and retied the mooring rope.

He wondered how long it would be before Crawford turned up.

~

Jack Crawford stepped off the Lear Jet and smiled when he saw Clarice Starling waiting for him on the tarmac.

�Any sign of him Agent Starling?� he shouted over the noise of the jet with the ghost of a smile in his voice.

�None, Sir,� she shouted back.

They jogged through the rickety shack that passed for the airport terminal and out onto the dusty road where an open-topped police jeep awaited them.

�Police scoured Lana�I after Chiltern�s body was found.  Apart from Chiltern, there was no sign of Lecter.�

The ride was bouncy.  Jack had to wonder if they�d ever considered suspension in their vehicles.  Or surfaces on their roads.

�How about Will?�

Clarice frowned.  �Will Graham, Sir?�

�I found his journal.  He was coming here.�

�You think Lecter would go after him?�

�Will was the one who caught him.  Lecter�s already tried to kill him twice.�

They arrived at Hawaii�s main police headquarters from where the biggest manhunt the islands had ever seen was being co-ordinated.

Clarice introduced Crawford to the locals and he explained the situation with Graham.

�We�ll take a helicopter, check out the marinas across the main islands.�

Crawford nodded, amazed at the speed and level of co-operation.

Within twenty minutes, they were in the air.  The sun was setting over the horizon.

~

Will lay atop the galley and stared at the stars.  Not until he�d moved to Florida had he realised how densely populated the night sky really was.

Now and then a plane passed over head.  He imagined Hannibal sitting in First Class on board one of them, sipping champagne and ignoring the latest in-flight movie, preferring instead to listen to the classical channel.

The cabin below him reeked of sex, of the two of them.  He wanted to keep it like that for a while so that he could lie in bed, close his eyes and remember his lover�s touch, the sound of those seductive tones speaking to him as if he were the most precious thing on earth.

After the trial Will had sat for twelve hours in Crawford�s office and read Lecter�s file from cover to cover, committing the names of his victims and the results of his attacks to memory.  He�d done it before, when he�d been investigating the Chesapeake Ripper.  But alone in Crawford�s office he�d looked at the harrowing pictures through different eyes, through the eyes of the killer�s unsuspecting lover.  Through the eyes of a victim.

The killer and the lover were two people to him and he knew it was dangerous to think that way.  He was certain now that Lecter wouldn�t hurt him again and he felt somehow empty.  Had he been waiting, expecting Lecter to seek him out at his earliest convenience?  Had he been running from what he wanted so desperately?  And now Lecter had come and gone, what was there left to wait for?  To run from?

There was nothing to be scared of anymore.  The bogeyman had a name and he wasn�t coming back.

Reaching up to the darkening sky, Will let the freedom wash over him.  �Thank you,� he whispered into the warm air.


It wasn�t long before the unmistakable racket of a helicopter shattered the peace of the islands.  He closed his eyes against the blinding searchlight and waved once upwards.


Five minutes later they�d landed and Jack Crawford was leading a small army of local law enforcement officers down the bank towards Will�s yacht.  With Crawford was a young lady Will didn�t recognise.

He slid down from the galley and padded bare foot across the deck to lean on the railing around the bow.

�Hey, Jack.�

�Will!�  The relief in the older man�s voice was evident and when he reached the boardwalk he reached for his protege.  Will went into the embrace willingly, returning it.  �I am so glad you�re okay,� Jack told him quietly.

�I�m fine, Jack.�  Pulling away slightly, he asked, �What�s with the cavalry?�

�Lecter�s escaped.�

�Why are you always just a couple of hours too late?�  But Will kept the thought to himself.

They stepped aboard The Free Spirit

�Will, this is Agent Clarice Starling.�

He smiled, shook her hand politely and took them down into the galley, drawing the bedroom door closed.  He glanced around but there was no evidence that Lecter had ever been here.  He�d even washed and dried the mug he�d used, clearing fingerprints probably.  To be sure, Will made coffee, using Lecter�s mug as his own.

�How did he escape, Jack?�  Like he�d told Lecter, it didn�t matter.  But Jack would expect him to ask.

Crawford and Starling had made themselves comfortable on the seating around the long galley table. 

�He was being moved to better accommodation in return for information on a serial killer, Buffalo Bill.�

�Better accommodation?�  Will couldn�t believe it.  �What did he know, the guy�s name and address?�

Clarice spoke up as Will turned to spoon the coffee into the filter.  �He told us the killer murdered a patient of his.  He told a senator � the mother of the kidnapped girl � that the killer�s name was Louis Friend.�

Will stilled, thinking through the puzzle.  Then he chuckled.  �And they fell for it?�

Clarice glanced at Crawford, impressed despite herself.  She�d heard a lot about Will Graham.  The first time she�d spoke to Lecter he�d asked about �Jack Crawford�s first prot�g�.  She�d only adopted an instant dislike of him after she�d found out that he�d quit the FBI.  There was nothing she hated more than a quitter.

He finished making the coffee and poured three mugs, handing them to his guests.  The local cops had all disappeared when they�d been assured that Lecter wasn�t here.

�He came here, to Hawaii.�

�Ah, so that�s the reason for the cavalry.�  Wryly, he moved to sit up on the work surface next to the sink.

�He followed Dr Chiltern here � remember him?�  Will nodded.  �He killed him last night, in a hotel room on Lana�I.�

Will didn�t react.  He really didn�t know what an appropriate response might have been.  Chiltern, as he recalled, was an asshole.  No one deserved Lecter�s wrath, but he couldn�t find it within him to extend Chiltern any of his limited sympathies.

�Have you seen him, Will?� Jack asked him suddenly, out of nowhere.  Clarice glanced at him, confused by the question.

�Have I seen who?�

�Lecter.�

Will stared at him in disbelief.  �You really think I�d still be sitting here if he�d paid me a visit?  I�d be floating face down in the water, Jack, if I was lucky.�

�I don�t think you would.�

�Sir?�  Whatever her initial dislike of Graham had been before she�d met him, she could read the fear in his very existence and wasn�t sure where accusing him of harbouring the man who�d done this to him was going to get them.  Nor where it was coming from.

Crawford ignored her.

�I went to the beach house, I found your journal, the one you left for Molly.�

Will�s eyes widened.  �And you read it?  Jesus, Jack, don�t you have better things to do with your time?  Don�t you have any morals?�

Crawford put his mug down and rose, stepping out around the table.  �Morals?  You were involved with that crazy fuck and you ask me if I have morals?!�

Clarice�s eyes widened.  Involved?  What did he mean by �involved�?

Gaze turning to ice, Will stared at the man he�d once considered a friend.  �Who are you to question my personal life, Jack?  You�ve done nothing but use me.�

�What do you think he did?�

�I�m not going to explain us to you.�

�Us�?  Starling looked from her boss to the man she realised she knew absolutely nothing about.  �Us?�  She couldn�t help speaking it out loud.

Without taking his eyes from Will�s hard gaze, Crawford explained, �Will and Lecter were lovers, weren�t you, Will?  But then you discovered his grisly secret and he almost killed you.  No remorse.  No sentimentality.  The only person Lecter gives a shit about is himself.  He never felt anything for you, Will, you were deluding yourself and I think you still are.�

Will amazed himself and Clarice by not erupting in anger.  He sat, sipped his coffee, and recalled his afternoon spent in his lover�s arms.  Lecter had had no reason to lie to him when they�d been standing out on deck.  He could have killed him and frankly Will wouldn�t have really cared very much.

�Finished?�  Crawford didn�t flinch but held the icy stare.  �Lecter and I were lovers, before he tried to kill me.  Attempted homicide is never good for any relationship, even the strongest ones, Jack.  I don�t think he likes me very much any more.  On top of that, how would he ever know I�m here, aside from tonight�s light show?�

Sighing so loudly it was almost a growl, Crawford spun on his heel and took the steps up to the deck two at a time.  Will watched him go.

�How badly did he hurt you?�

He tilted his head to regard Agent Starling.  �He sliced into my abdomen and up through my Large Intestines.  I was in the hospital for five months, in an IC Unit for two.�

�Yet despite that, you went to see him on three occasions during the Dolarhyde case?�

Will nodded.  �Jack talked me into it the first time.  Lecter was behind bars, what harm could he do me?�

Clarice smiled a sad, knowing smile.  �Doesn�t make any difference, does it?  He still gets to you, gets inside your mind, makes you believe�.�  She trailed off.  Will frowned, picking up on the almost wistful tone.  She�d spoken to Lecter at the asylum he suddenly realised.

�Did you spend much time with him?�

She shook her head.  �No.  I saw him three times at the asylum, once in Tennessee before he escaped.  He was lying to the rest of them about who Buffalo Bill really was but he was telling me the truth.�

�You caught the guy?�

She grinned, proud for a moment.  �Sure did.�  It soon faded.  �But Lecter killed two guards, three medics and a tourist to make his escape.�

Will looked away from here, feeling more tears blurring his eyes.

�You okay?�  She half-rose from her seat.  �I�m sorry, I didn�t mean to upset you.�

�No, it�s� it�s okay.�  He brushed the moisture from his eyes with the back of his hand.  �I cry a lot.  Slight chemical imbalance in my brain from the gunshot wounds Dolarhyde left me with.�

�You�ve had a tough time.�

�No tougher than most.�  It was a lie, but one he firmly believed in.

They sat in silence for a minute or so before Clarice murmured, �He has been here, hasn�t he?�

Will hesitated but nodded.  �How did you know?�

�Your reaction when we arrived.  No surprise, no shock, no fear.  You asked the right questions but only to go through the motions.  When did you see him?�

�This morning.  He saw me in the marketplace and followed me here.�  He watched her half-rise again and shook his head.  �He�s long gone.�

She nodded, accepting the inevitable.  A surprisingly high number of flights left the mainland of Hawaii in the course of a day.  Lecter had hours on them.

�Did he hurt you?�

�No.�

�Did he tell you where he was going?�

�No.�

This time she wasn�t sure if he was lying.  But she didn�t want to ask.  She didn�t want to know.  She stood by her belief that he wouldn�t come after her.

�What will you do now?�

Will looked at her, studied her, for a time.  �I have no idea.�


As Jack stepped down off The Free Spirit in Clarice�s wake, he turned back.

�He�s poison, Will.�

�I think I�m immune.�


Clarice Starling and Jack Crawford left less than an hour after they�d arrived.  Local cops hadn�t found any other trace of Lecter although a cleaner at the airport thought she remembered him holding a door open for her.  She couldn�t remember when that had been, just that it had been today.

As they boarded the plane for Washington, Crawford told Clarice, �Will knows where Lecter�s gone.�

�If he does, he won�t tell us, Sir.�

�I should pull him in.�  Clarice looked across at him until he met her wry frown.  �I know, I won�t.�

~

two months later


Stepping into the cool of Lana�I�s main store, Will pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. 

�Morning, Lou.�

The big, dark man behind the counter looked up and grinned.  �Hey, Will.  Been a long time.�

�I needed the ocean for a while.�

�I can see that.�  Turning, Lou took an envelope from one of the shelves behind him.  �I�ve been keeping some mail for you.  It arrived last week.�

Will took it, knowing as soon as he saw the handwriting who it was from.  �Thanks.�

�Anything else I can do you for?�

�No.  Maybe later.  Thanks, Lou.�

Will walked the short distance back to the marina in a daze, staring down at the expensive off-white envelope in his hands.

Sitting in the galley of The Free Spirit, he sliced open the seal and pulled out a thick page of expensive A4.




This is such a beautiful place I feel a need to share it with someone.  We were always good together, my dearest Will, could we enjoy one another�s company once again?

If you�re agreeable, walk along Via Portarossa at noon on the fifth day of any month and as long as I am still safe I will find you.

That night, what went before, I loved you, Will.  I still do.

Always yours,

Hannibal Lecter





Smiling to himself, Will took the matches from beside the stove and lit one, holding the paper to the flame as long as he could until only ashes remained. 

Florence sounded very, very tempting.