Chapter Text
Every person who has ever lived had a Peak. A single moment that, whether it's expected or not, is the most important. That means something different to everyone. Maybe it's the moment that you fulfill a lifelong goal, or when you finally realize what your purpose is, or the one piece of your life that will become your legacy. The thing that makes you go down in history.
Most people don't know what their Peak will be. Some people don't even recognize it when it passes. But everyone has one person who can see their potential.
Growing up, Will's dad always told him that he and Will's mother were soul mates. That the first time he looked into her eyes, he saw the day Will was born. That their son would be her Peak, her legacy. It was probably meant to be inspiring, a reminder of how deeply she loved him even though he never got to know her, but it felt like a great deal of pressure. To be honest he was relieved when, in a drunken stupor while Will was in high school, his father revealed that he and his mother had never been soul mates to begin with. He had no idea what her Peak was, let alone his own. Will suspected it must have happened early. It must not have been all that remarkable.
Will wasn't sure he wanted to know what his Peak was. He was terrified that it had already passed him. He had a few suspicions. It might be one of his books getting published. Or maybe all the dogs he'd rescued. A criminal he'd helped capture. Whatever it was, if and when he met his mate, they probably wouldn't be that impressed. He's heard horror stories about that. Looking into someone's eyes and seeing they become a famous scientist or a Nobel prize winner, and them rejecting you because they saw you winning a high school football championship or getting promoted to Regional Manager.
Will doesn't want to meet his mate. Not really. Doesn't find any outcome that enjoyable. If his mate's Peak is lower, or already passed, then what does he have to look forward to? If it's high, how can Will compete with that? Seeing someone's potential should be inspiring, optimistic. Instead it feels like a death sentence.
He's listening to Jack as he describes the missing girls in Minnesota. He's trying to focus, but he feels on edge. He hates meeting new people, and there's one in the room. Doctor Hannibal Lecter, a psychiatrist here to consult on the Shrike case. He'd given the man a sharp nod but hadn't looked up from his coffee.
"Tasteless," He mutters to himself.
"Do you have trouble with taste?"
Will swallows. Nice Accent. "My thoughts are often not tasty."
Doctor Lecter sits beside him, Will glances at him from the corner of his eye. Nice suit. "Nor mine. No effective barriers."
"I build forts."
"Associations come quickly," He counters.
"So do forts."
He's quiet for a beat and he can feel Doctor Lecter's eyes on him. "Not fond of eye contact, are you?"
Will chuckles. Well that's a loaded question. "Eyes are distracting," He says, because of course they are. There's an unavoidable moment of 'what if?' every time you look a person in the eye for the first time. And then a flicker of either relief or disappointment and then how does anyone react properly when you finally do see something? How does anyone look at anyone else without being terrified? "You see too much, you don't see enough." He sees Doctor Lecter's hand fall to the table beside him. Nice hands. "A-and it's hard to focus when you're thinking-"
Before he can stop himself, his glance flicks up to meet Doctor Lecter's. Brown, lovely deep brown, staring right into his own.
His heart stops. He swallows. "W-when you're thinking, um, 'Oh, those...those whites are-"
The Tableau is gruesome. Artistic, clean, and absolutely brutal. Organs strewn about in an intricate pattern. And it's an MO he recognizes instantly.
"-really white.' Or uh, 'H-he must have hepatitis'," He tries desperately to feign normalcy, to continue his train of thought, to hide that anything is amiss. Sometimes soul mates are one-sided. It's rare but it happens. Dear God, please be one-sided. "Or 'is that a burst vein?'"
Doctor Lecter is still staring, his mouth quirks up into a smile. Oh God. Oh no. Please no, I'm not ready to die. Please don't know. Don't know that I know.
Will forces his eyes to rest back on the table, clears his throat nervously. "S-so yeah, I try to avoid eye contact whenever possible." Should've avoided it this time. I'm going to die.
The universe can never go easy on Will, can it? His family, his brain, his career, and now-
Now his soul mate is the Chesapeake Ripper.
-
Hannibal has been prepared for this day for quite some time. He's always known it was a possibility. He's never been interested in sharing his life with another person, romantically or otherwise, but it would be foolish to disregard the chance.
He knew what his mate would see. His accomplishments are many, his legacy more grand than most. He wasn't sure which of his works would appear in his mate's eye, but it hardly matters, they are all worth beholding.
It wasn't an eventuality that he was particularly worried over, especially as he got older. A part of him had begun to suspect that he didn't have a mate after all, but it wouldn't matter if he did. He would kill them the moment he had the chance.
Will Graham is handsome, smart, aggressive. He's also very rude and more twitchy than Hannibal would like. He's repressing something, something that takes every ounce of him to keep under the surface. Hiding something behind those pretty blue eyes, Will? Let me see it. Even without a soul mate connection, there is much to be seen in someone's gaze.
"Not fond of eye contact, are you?"
He tries to force out a laugh but it's breathy around its edges. He adjusts his glasses. Does he need those to see, or is he building another wall? "Eyes are distracting," He says at last. "You see too much, you don't see enough."
Hannibal smiles. It's true, but for many people that's the appeal. It's common for people to establish eye contact with a new person as quickly as possible, to ensure the chance of being truly seen does not pass them by. Will Graham must frustrate everyone he meets, eyes glued to the ground like this. Is there something he's afraid of seeing, or something he doesn't want others to see?
He places a hand on the table between them, trying to establish a place in his line of sight. It has the desired effect, and Will's eyes flick upwards at last. "And it's hard to focus when you're thinking-"
Blue. So lovely, so bright and clear. It's a crime, keeping those behind glasses. His pupils dilate in terror and Hannibal's vision flashes. He can't resist a smile.
Oh. Oh. Well, isn't that fascinating.
Will keeps talking, fumbling through more excuses about eye contact and shallow inferences, but Hannibal is still locked on those eyes. He knows that initial glimpse is all he'll get, that all he'll see now is that gorgeous blue, but he's hoping it will show itself again.
Will's Peak is glorious. Visceral and untamed and so, so beautiful. Hannibal wants to live there, in that moment.
All plans of murdering Will go swiftly out the window, replaced with immediate infatuation. Of course, he'd been a fool to believe anything else would happen.
His soul mate is a ruthless killer. He's less experienced than Hannibal, but they are the same at heart.
Love at first sight, it would seem.
Will looks back down at the desk. He's gone pale, there's a fine sweat being born near his hairline. Oh darling, no.
"S-so yeah, I try to avoid eye contact whenever possible."
Hannibal can smell how afraid his mate is, feels the urge to reach out to him. There's nothing to fear, my love. We are the same. Couldn't you see that your darkness is made to blend with mine?
Unless.
Oh, what a treat. This will be magnificent.
His Peak hasn't happened yet. He has no idea what's coming, does he? No wonder this sweet boy is so anxious, he hasn't accepted the beast within him. But it's there, Hannibal knows it's there. And he is more than happy to help it come to life, if that's what his soul mate requires of him.