Hi all. I found another great Hannibal prompt that was just screaming at me to be written. This will be a multi chapter fic and will probably be the nastiest, sickest story I've ever written. Yay. This is the prompt:

"Will is captured by one of the killers he's tracking down (easiest probably to place this during Fromage, but anyone from the show or an OMC is fine.) He's drugged, injured, sleep/food/water-deprived or otherwise a bit out of it, when his captor rapes him. To escape the trauma of the event, Will dissociates and imagines the event from his captor's viewpoint, just as he normally does during his cases. It's easier for him to imagine himself as the assailant who's in control then to come to terms with what's actually happening. His empathy leads him to experience the sexual pleasure that his attacker is feeling.

When Will's rapist sees that his victim has gone limp and is becoming physically aroused, he could react by becoming more violent with him, verbally degrading him for "enjoying it," taking advantage of Will's new compliance, losing interest because Will isn't reacting with terror like he wanted, or really anything else you could think of, as long as he notices that Will is getting off to it."

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Enjoy!

x

Exodus.

Chapter One.

Will shivered; staring at the smashed up Ford Mustang before him. He swallowed hard, trying to compose himself.

He knew exactly what was to be expected of him.

He and Jack had arrived in this place, a small, secluded town just South of Texas, that afternoon. This was just another chapter in their ongoing manhunt for Doctor Hannibal Lecter. The killer had fled his home ten weeks previously, and Jack, of course, was leading the hunt to find him. Even more unsurprisingly, it was Will that Jack had asked to join him on the search. If anyone could track down Hannibal Lecter, it was Will Graham.

They had received word of a spate of brutal killings over a relatively small area. In fact, three people had gone missing in that very town in the last month.

Even more intriguingly, there had been rumours, though groundless, that Lecter had been seen in that State. Not just the State, but in that very area, in the last few weeks.

It wasn't much to go on, but it was something.

So, Jack and Will had flown to the Deep South, contacting the local police force for assistance. Hannibal or not, there was still a killer that needed to be caught.

As soon as they had entered that town, Will had felt close to Lecter, and had informed Jack that he was sure that they were getting nearer. That these killings could be down to their Cannibal. Jack hadn't been sure, believing this to be another false dawn, that there were too many differences in the crimes to be the work of the Ripper. Will had told him that he could only go by what he felt, and he felt that Lecter was near. Jack had listened to him, as ever unable to refuse his young friend. There had been a time when Jack hadn't listened to Will, when the profiler had needed him more than ever, and Jack had abandoned him. He always listened to Will now, no matter how much he may disagree with him. He always gave Will a chance.

It was Will's gut instincts that had led them to this town.

As usual, those instincts hadn't let them down.

A teenage boy had been discovered in an abandoned car out in the woods, on the outskirts of the small town. It was as if someone had known they were coming, as the body was found only an hour after they had arrived there. It had been the third similar killing in a month. These killings had all been the same, the victims had been raped, had their throats cut, and then, and this was the especially interesting part, had had their eyes, tongues and hearts removed.

Jack had instantly pointed out the similarities to Lecter's Ripper killings.

Will leaned into the car, looking at the dead naked man slumped in the driving seat.

He prepared himself. Strangers were close by, watching him, whispering. He'd wanted privacy as he did this but he wasn't going to get it.

He took a deep breath. And closed his eyes.

And he looked. And lost himself.

I am here.

I am higher than the rest of you.

They look up to me, while I look down. All will look up to me.

They see me through the eyes of the damned.

I didn't kill him here. I brought him here, once I had saved him. I returned him to his car, so he could be found. My blessings are complete.

I am justice, I am beyond this realm, beyond the judgement of these lesser mortals. Only the great caretaker can judge me. I have been sent here to find them, to save them, to set them free. The listeners are with me, beside me, we move as one. We are so much more than the ants, the insects. The deluded who are unaware of the demons in their midst. I take them, I use them, I cleanse them. They are mine to own, mine to control. Once their bodies are purged of the evil, and the souls have been released from the darkness, I do them the ultimate honour. I raise them up, I free them from their shame. We devour them in every way, to remove any trace of the evil that resided. We consume their goodness, we mix it with our own.

My congregation share in my strength. Together, we are stronger.

I am God's servant. I will hunt them down. I will release the innocent and destroy the wicked.

This is my task. This is my purpose.

This is my design.

Will's eyes snapped open. He stumbled slightly, and was relieved to feel Jack's hand on his back, steadying him. He took three deep breaths, trying to control the panic coursing through him.

It never got easier.

Jack watched him, giving him the moment that he needed.

Finally, he asked. "Is it him?"

"I don't think so." Will replied, covering his face with his hands.

Jack frowned. "You sure? There are some similarities with the last body we found to the last known victims of-"

Will sighed, irritated. "It's not him, Jack." He gestured at the body. "This isn't about humiliating or mocking the victims, or us, for that matter. This is something altogether different. This man think he's doing God's work, believes he's been put on this Earth to save others." He threw Jack a withering look. "Does that sound like Doctor Lecter to you?"

Jack nodded, resigned to accepting Will's word, though he couldn't hide his disappointment. Will understood. This one had felt close, it had felt right. And since they had arrived in the town, Will had been sure that he could feel that Lecter close by. He couldn't even explain it. It was just there, deep down, in his gut.

And it wasn't just the "Cannibal" radar Will seemed to have had since Lecter had vanished. There was also the nagging suspicion that he was being watched. Wherever he went, he could feel those cold eyes on him, assessing him, watching his every move.

If Will was honest with himself, and this was what truly scared him, he wanted Lecter to find him. Whether that was to kill the other man, or trap him and bring him to justice, Will couldn't say. Maybe he just wanted to see him again. To show the doctor that Will was free now, that the tables had turned.

If they really had...

"Will?"

Will was startled out of his musings and he looked round, into Jack's concerned gaze.

"You okay?"

The profiler nodded. "I'm fine. I was just thinking."

Jack clearly wasn't satisfied, but he trusted Will enough to go along with him.

'How times had changed.'

Will couldn't ignore the bitterness coursing through him. He pushed it to one side. The past was the past. Going back there, letting those dark days back in, wouldn't help him now. He needed to stay focused.

"What else can you tell me about this guy?"

Will grimaced. "He doesn't work alone."

Jack blinked. "He has a team?"

"More like a flock."

"You mean like a preacher?"

"Yeah, something like that. He moves around, his people go with him. They are looking for a particular breed of victim. Man or women, boy or girl, black or white, rich or poor." Will ran a shaky hand through his hair. "It doesn't matter to this guy. They find their target, they grab them, and then they cleanse them-"

"How do you mean, cleanse?" Jack prompted.

"I'm not sure," Will told him. "But he wants to bring them to God somehow."

"That's why he rapes them? Kills and eats them?"

"He's only eating the parts that are bad."

"The heart, the tongue, and the eyes?"

"Exactly. He thinks that there's something wrong with the victim, something this man needs to correct, and that's what he's doing." Will shook his head. "He thinks he's doing them a favour. And his flock love him for it." He closed his eyes. "That's about all I can tell you, Jack."

Jack nodded. "Okay, Will. I think that's all we're gonna get tonight." He turned around, gesturing for the local police to take over the crime scene. He put his arm around Will's shoulders. "Good job. We'll take another look at the body tomorrow. See what else you can get then."

He waved to a waiting patrol car, parked close by, preventing the public from getting too close.

The uniformed officer opened his door, climbed out, and approached Jack and Will. He looked barely older than a teenager, not unlike the victim, with his boyish face and untidy blond hair.

"Yes, Sir?"

"We're done here," Jack said. "Could you run Agent Graham back to the motel for me, please?"

The officer nodded, and then took a double take when he had a proper look at Will.

"You're Will Graham!" He exclaimed. Will nodded politely in response, and then looked away.

"You're hunting for "Hannibal the Cannibal!" You were on the news. He framed you for those murders, sent you to-"

Will wanted the ground to swallow him up.

'Plunge a knife into his gut, Will. Silence his inconsiderate tongue.'

Will shuddered, slamming a hand into the side of his head. Ignoring the confused glances from the officer, Will looked towards Jack for help.

Those thoughts. That voice.

When would he be free?

Jack took hold of the officer's arm. "Maybe you'd better wait for Agent Graham by the car, Lieutenant. And maybe gain some tact while you're waiting?"

The officer's smile faded. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"I told you," Jack said, his patience long gone. "Wait by the car."

The officer paused, and then nodded. "Sure." He then hurried back over to the car, not able to hide his continued interest in the "celebrity" before him.

"Sorry about that. He's a new recruit," Jack noted, softly. "Seemed to be excited to meet you though."

Will bit his lip. "Great."

Jack glanced at him. "We're getting closer to this one, Will."

Will shrugged. "We're no closer to him, Jack."

"We'll find him."

"We don't know that."

"I have faith."

Will actually laughed. How nice it must be to believe in something, or someone. Will couldn't do that, not any more. He would never trust any one again, never put himself in such a weak position. He couldn't.

"It's getting late," Jack informed him, glancing at his watch. "We need to get back to the motel, should both try and get some sleep..."

Will rolled his eyes.

Jack saw, and he frowned. "When was the last time you actually slept, Will? You know what Alana would say-"

Will chuckled humourlessly. "To even think about sleeping Jack, I would actually have to close my eyes." He looked up at Jack, his pain suddenly on display. When he spoke again, his words came out so quietly, Jack had to strain to hear him. "Problem is, every single time I close my eyes, I see him."

Unable to see the pity, and the guilt, in Jack's hurt expression, Will stared into the opposite direction, searching the woods.

He suddenly shivered. There it was again. The feeling that someone was out there. Someone getting closer. Someone watching...

Jack was standing beside him, glaring out into the blackness. "Is there anything I can do?"

Will smiled. It was not a nice smile. "No Jack. No one can help me."

Jack let out a heavy sigh, and then placed his hand on Will's shoulder.

Will flinched. A memory stirred...

...A warm room. A neat and tidy office. The window, and the darkness beyond. The darkness in the room with him. His controlling grip on his shoulder...

Will shook Jack's hand away from him, and then glanced down.

Jack eyed him, obviously uncertain what he should do to comfort his friend. There was still so much unsaid between them, so much bad blood. Jack didn't know what to do to the best.

He had accused Will of murder. He had believed Hannibal Lecter over his own protégée. Just how was he supposed to make that up to him?

"Rest up." He whispered, as gently as he could. "We'll get back on this tomorrow. We'll find whoever this is and cross another one of the list. And then we can get back on the hunt. We're doing good work here, Will."

"I know that, Jack."

Jack gave him a small smile. "Sleep well."

Will gritted his teeth. He set off then, walking steadily up to the officer leaning against his car door, his arms crossed over his chest. As Will drew nearer, the officer extended his hand toward him.

"Sorry about that," he said softly. "We don't see many famous people in these parts."

"We're cool," Will replied, shaking the hand the man offered to him. "But I'm not famous, okay?"

The officer nodded, and then gestured to Will to get into the passenger seat. Before Will did so, he asked: "What's your name, Lieutenant?"

The other man smiled. "Joe, Sir. Joe Naughton."

Will returned the smile, and then got into the car. As he watched Naughton start the engine, he wondered just what kind of a hellish trip he was letting himself in for...

XXX

The twenty minute car journey back to his motel was actually a lot more enjoyable than Will had expected. Joe turned out to be quite a charming young man who had, unsurprisingly, only been in the force for a few months. He had followed his "Pops" career path, and had simply been very excited to meet someone as "heroic" as Will Graham.

Will had laughed at that. He'd told Joe he's got the wrong man. There was nothing heroic about fighting for survival.

Joe had disagreed with him, informing Will that most men would have just "given up."

Will had said nothing.

His thoughts, though, had had plenty to say.

'You see, my friend? You see what you are truly worth? Even this boy can see your true potential. When will you, dear Will?'

Once they had arrived at the motel, and Will had said his goodbyes to the young officer, Will made his way into his room. He took off his jacket and tossed it onto the bed. His gun and cell phone followed quickly after. He wondered if Jack was still at the crime scene. His conversation with Joe had been a lot of help to him and he now felt bad about the way he had been with Jack that night. He knew Jack wouldn't blame him, that his boss was only too aware what it took for Will to "look" after what had happened. But that didn't make it okay.

Will didn't blame Jack. He knew only to well how easy it was to believe every word that Hannibal Lecter had ever said to him.

As soon as he heard Jack arrive back, he would go and talk to him. Clear the air, so they could be ready to get this case solved as quickly as possible.

Will was so caught up in his thoughts that he never heard the door opening behind him.

He never heard the footsteps creeping up behind him.

When the blunt instrument connected with the back of his head, with enough force to send him flying forward, Will only had time to register the pain before the blackness surrounded him, and he had no choice but to give into it completely.

He had been knocked out cold.

"Sorry about that, Will. He wants to meet you.

Joe stood over the unconscious man, dropping the wood he had used to strike the unsuspecting Will down.

As he reached for him, he smiled fondly.

"Don't worry though. You're gonna be just fine."

TBC