Chapter Text
Will trudged down the hall towards Jack’s office. The sound of his footsteps was uneven and paired with the muted sound of the cane he used.
He was used to the pain. He knew his students liked to compare him to Doctor House from television, because of the cane and his surly attitude, but he had little affection for that particular adaptation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s character, and had stolidly refused to risk an addiction to painkillers. Five years after the accident, and Will got through most days on nothing more than a few aspirin and the occasional glass of whiskey in the evening.
Will had been summoned to Jack’s office, a classic power play because Jack knew walking would hurt him. If it had been anything less serious, he would have come to Will’s classroom or office to ask for his help. The pain would be a motivator because Will wouldn’t want it to have been in vain and he would have less energy to argue.
Will knew what Jack would be asking him. He was aware of what cases the man had on his desk, and knew which the most pressing would be. He was going to agree to help, he knew that as well, but he fully intended to make Jack work for it.
Jack already had company. That surprised Will, but not enough for him to lose his edge at all.
The man stood tall and straight, impeccable in a three piece suit with a brightly colored window pane pattern. Will was impressed the man could look so comfortable and in place, wearing such a getup. He didn’t look like anyone Will would usually choose to meet.
“Will,” Jack said, catching sight of Will as he stepped through the doorway, “thank you for coming.”
Will grunted a greeting and hobbled to the desk in order to drop himself into one of the chairs, gripping his cane by the shaft, as if he intended to bludgeon someone with it.
Depending on how this went, it might be a temptation.
Jack sighed. He wasn’t surprised by Will’s attitude, but he wasn’t pleased with it either.
“Will, this is Doctor Lecter. He’s a psychiatrist, and he’s going to help us on the case.”
Will glanced up at the dandy, keeping the frame of his glasses blocking direct eye contact. He could see that Lecter was watching him with clear curiosity, but Will thought he knew better than to expect a friendly greeting. He hadn’t stepped closer or offered a hand.
“Forgive me for not standing,” Will sneered, “I have to recover as well as I can for the walk back to my classroom. Can we please get on with this?”
Jack sighed softly, offering Lecter an apologetic shrug.
“Alright. I want to warn you both that this case is serious, and disturbing. You need to prepare for-”
“It’s the damned Chesapeake Ripper, Jack,” Will interrupted, tapping his cane on the floor impatiently, “any adult person in the area who isn’t already familiar with the case is either an idiot or an optimist. Neither of which are helpful to you, so I assume Lecter isn’t one. Just get on with it.”
Jack pressed his lips together. He had clearly been hoping Lecter’s presence would convince Will to behave himself.
Will’s leg was aching, and he didn’t have the patience for any of it. He wanted to distract himself from the pain by getting to work on the case. He couldn’t do that if Jack hedged around it for hours.
“Alright,” Jack said, handing Will a file folder, “here’s everything the news couldn’t tell you. Every scene since the first, and every bit of evidence we’ve found. Freddie Lounds would give her teeth to see this, so I’m sure you’ll both be discreet.”
Lecter nodded amenably, sitting in the chair beside Will. Jack handed him a file identical to Will’s.
“Of course, Jack,” he said, “As a psychiatrist, discretion is habitual.”
Will snorted softly in derision, opening the file and beginning to flip through. Most of it was stuff he already knew, either from seeing it on Tattlecrime or from filling in the blanks. Nothing there surprised him.
“What are your thoughts on the killer, Will?” Lecter asked, turning towards him with an open and expectant expression.
Will raised an eyebrow, looking up at his chin.
“We’ve only just got the file, and you expect me to have a profile?” he asked.
Lecter raised his own eyebrow in response, as if Will was being unreasonable.
“I believe you have had at least a partial profile ready since the moment you walked in the door of this office. Likely long before. Nothing you see there seems to have surprised you.”
Despite himself, Will was impressed and slightly flattered. Lecter didn’t seem perturbed by his mood, and had clearly been paying attention. He was intelligent, which was more than Will could say for most people he dealt with on a daily basis.
Will flipped his file shut and turned in his seat to face Lecter more fully. His cane tapped the leg of his chair as he shifted, but he paid it no mind. He was curious about Lecter now, though he had made up his mind before to ignore him as best he could.
“The Ripper has been around for years,” Will began, tapping his fingers along the body of his cane, “he’s not about to be caught by us unless he so chooses. He never leaves any evidence we can use to catch him. All we have for this case is profiling. That’s why Jack’s so desperate to get both our minds on it.”
Lecter had also turned his body towards Will as he spoke, listening intently. Jack was resigned to his fate of listening to them discuss the case in this manner. He was listening, but with a passive type of acceptance. Will wanted to test Lecter, see what kind of mind Jack had decided they needed here, when he already had Will.
“He’s high brow, white collar, educated. History as a surgeon, but he’s probably moved on by now. I expect he’s still working closely with people, possibly in some sort of therapy. He will put himself in a position of power, where he can influence those he works with. He’s also a lover of fine arts and beautiful things. He appreciates classical literature, and he’s probably well traveled as well. Sound familiar, Doctor? Where’s your accent from?”
Jack shifted, as if about to stop Will from doing this, but Lecter shook his head gently to him and smiled at Will.
It was infuriating, but terribly fascinating.
“Lithuania,” Lecter said, “It’s true that I do fit the profile remarkably well. Do you wish to investigate me? You are welcome to search my home and office if you must. I have nothing to hide.”
Will scoffed.
“Everyone has something to hide. The people who say they have nothing to hide usually have the darkest secrets. You shouldn’t tempt fate like that, Doctor. If you’re the Ripper, I’d be disappointed in your adherence to a stereotype, inserting yourself into the investigation. I don’t think the Ripper would be so foolish.”
Lecter smiled. As of yet, he was only amused by Will despite how rude and unpleasant he was being. If anything Will had done or said had even touched on annoying him, he didn’t show it.
Will wondered how long that would last.
“What does he do with the organs?” Lecter asked, tapping the list of missing organs from each of the victims with one long and elegant finger, “you understand their character so well, you must have some idea.”
Will scowled at the man, displeased with the question. He had a few theories, one he liked better than the rest, but he didn’t want to share them with Jack just yet. He didn’t want to give him so much all at once. He wanted to spread it out, trickle in the information he had, so Jack would slowly give him more and more access and trust with the case.
Lecter was putting him in a difficult spot, then. If Will didn’t share his theories, Jack’s faith in him might suffer. He would seem less knowing than he really was, and anything Lecter might guess would hold more weight with Jack. Will didn’t like that at all.
If Lecter had done it on purpose, he could not have done it more effectively. Will wondered.
“Why don’t you throw a guess out and I’ll tell you if you’re right,” Will shot back, and this time Jack did intervene.
“Will,” he snapped, “you could at least try to work together with Doctor Lecter. I need both of you in order to catch this one.”
Will would have liked to argue with him about that, but he thought having Lecter wouldn’t do anything but make this all more entertaining for himself. He wouldn’t mind having someone around who he could mess with. If Lecter pushed back a little, all the more exciting.
So Will took a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself down.
“Fine. Teamwork it is. The motto of the FBI. Because Jack Crawford, head of the BAU, would never encourage solo work.”
Will stared at Jack coldly, and watched as the man bit his tongue against a retort or admission of guilt.
Maybe it was cruel of Will to bring up Miriam. It had been cruel of Jack to make him walk all this way just to get a file and be introduced to a Lithuanian dandy. Will was making Jack pay for the help he would get.
—
The crash had been serious, but not bad enough to land Will in a coma. He had been badly concussed and his legs had been shattered. He was covered in scars from both the collision and the surgeries he’s needed in the aftermath. Pain would be a constant companion until he died, and walking with a cane was more of an inconvenience than anyone without one would readily believe. So field work was supposed to be entirely off the table.
That apparently wouldn’t stop Jack. Jack had asked for Will’s opinion on a few cases in the past five years, and had him consult on a fair few as well, but they had all been small and easy cases. At least as far as Will was concerned. Nothing more than puzzles to keep him entertained.
Will had wanted the Ripper case, if he would be perfectly honest, but he would rather die than ask Jack for it. So he had waited. He had known the Ripper wouldn’t let himself be caught, so it was only a matter of time before Jack would come to Will. Jack knew Will was good. Better than anyone else they had.
Will thought he could probably catch the Ripper. That was the hell of it. He knew it was proud and vain of him, but he also thought he was the Ripper’s match, their intellectual equal. But he didn’t want the game to end too soon. It would most certainly cost lives, probably more than a few, but Will intended to get his fill of entertainment before he would put the Ripper behind bars.
Doctor Hannibal Lecter was a wrench in the machine, though. Will didn’t know what his involvement might do for these plans.