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H, H, H, rang in Will's head as they rushed about the BAU, gathering intel and picking up any possibilities of where the Ripper might reside.

I, A, M, H... I, A, M

Will's brows furrowed, his thoughts drowning out the other's urgent conversations. I am H... I am H... There was definitely more—or at least, there had to be.

I am home? H, H, H...

"Will?" deftly rang in his head. "Will. Will."

"What—yes?" He shook himself, sitting up and glancing around. Jack glared at him. "What were you saying?"

"We can't afford you spacing out, Will," scolded Crawford. "Beverly just finished saying that the incision on the body was sloppy. All other cases with the Ripper showed a clean cut—neatly stitched afterwards."

"Do you think the Ripper was cut short?" said Price, eyes intent.

"It could be a deeper message like last time," Zeller chimed.

Will blinked away his racing thoughts, focusing them instead on the body. The scene flashed before his eyes, and he pondered in it.

"He wasn't hurried," said Graham, closing his eyes. His brows furrowed as he thought through his many options. "It's almost like he was... angry."

"The cut was deep," muttered Katz, earning a nod.

"It was as if he were burdened, almost." He opened his eyes. "If my guess is right—that the Ripper's working with Death—then it'd be easy to assume he felt pressured. Reluctantly took his trophies, knowing the satisfaction of taking them wouldn't be the same."

"And we're positive this isn't just Death's doing," reiterated Jack. Graham nodded.

"I picked up on a bit of cologne at the scene," said Will. "It was really faint because of the body, but it smells of elegance and class. We already know the Ripper's a man of high status, but perhaps he could be higher."

Price clasped his head, groaning. "He's impossible to catch."

A frustrated silence fell over them, each silently agreeing with his statement. Will huffed, shifting in his place.

"Let me talk to Hannibal," he said. "He might give some insight on all of this."

Jack nodded. "He's helped with the Ripper's cases before," he muttered. He roughly sighed and bowed his head. "I'm only hoping he'll help. And quickly."

...

"I've been to many places, Will," said Hannibal with an amused smile—one that held secret meaning. "Around the world, to be more specific."

"So why here?" asked Will, sipping at wine in hopes to ease his thoughts of their recent, looming case. The cool liquid slid down his throat, calming him with every taste.

Lecter's eyes glinted sharply, his smile twitching. "It was a matter of curiosity, at first," he began smoothly. "Sparked by a man's obsession over my father." He smiled in earnest. "However, I've rather grown to like it here, during my search for this man. I've met many interesting people over the years, but I've never been intrigued with someone such as—" he tipped his head "—yourself."

Will hummed at that, downing the rest of his wine. "Is it because I kill people?" Hannibal's eyes glinted at that, and he picked up the bottle of wine beside him.

"Not completely," he admitted. "There's much more to you than a simple... hobby, so to speak."

Hannibal leaned over to refill Will's glass, making him smirk. "Trying to get me drunk?" he teased, eyeing Lecter as he leaned back in his seat. Hannibal only chuckled.

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