Note: This fic is inspired by NBC's Hannibal. I thought it would be fitting to put Ciel and Sebastian into an AU version on the story. After all, we already know Sebastian wants to eat Ciel.

I'll update this as quickly as I can. I'm thinking there will be about five chapters in total. I don't want this to turn into something too long… but that will remain to be seen. lol.

Warnings: Depictions of gore and violence. (Over all warnings will include blood/gore, trauma, manipulation, coercion, cannibalism, sexual themes.)

A Taste So Sweet

1.

It's dark, the moon is only a silver crescent in the pitch sky. Nothing lights the way, leaving the forest a treacherous venture. The boy has little way of knowing where he is or where he has to go. Cold air chokes at his lungs and tears feel frozen on his cheeks. He trips, over a root or his own feet, there is no way of telling.

In the dark silence underbrush crunches, a much larger animal is prowling. The boy is prey and his predator stalks with practiced expertise. He's done this enough times to know when to wait and when to pounce. It's silent again; the boys heart pounds painfully loud in his ears. Another twig snaps to the left. The boy bolts.

The chase begins anew. The prey is tiring; it'll only be a matter of time now. One, two, three, and it's all over. From within the gloom a man appears. White teeth shine in a grisly smile. The boy has no time to react; no sounds escapes from his as his throat is caught and crushed. He doesn't fight the man, just continues to cry. Tears flow from clear blue eyes.

Those eyes are too innocent, they see the man for what he really is. He can't have that. He's not a monster. He's not, he's not, he's not. The boy is pushed to the ground, cold earth and roots digging painfully into his back. It isn't until the man pressed his thumbs into each eye socket that the boy gargles out a scream. There is nothing human about it, just a cry of a wounded animal.

Another smile crosses the man's face. He feels nothing but relief. The boy can't see, he can't see the man for what he is… for what he is not. Never a monster. No, never that. He is an artist. He is the creator! This beautiful boy will be the canvas to another masterpiece. The boy will thank him, he will make him immortal. A piece of art that will last long past death.

A knife glints off what little light there is. The boy never sees it coming. It plunges into the tender belly and pulls across flesh. A scream tears from the boy's throat…

"Ciel!"

The world washes back into focus, from Van Gogh to Rousseau. Ciel's throat is raw and he's vaguely aware that he's been screaming. His stomach rolls and twists with the phantom feel of a knife. Bile rises, burning and insistent. Ciel vomits and heaves up what's left of his lunch.

Behind closed eyelids Ciel sees a different knife; he sees masked faces with similar toothed smiles. The scream though, that reverberates through his mind's eye like a bad dream, is his, but not of his making. So close, but not the same. Another onslaught of dry heaves take over, convulsing Ciel's body.

"Ciel, drink this." A small cup of water is shoved under his nose. He takes it gratefully and sips two large gulps from it. "You okay?"

He looks towards the woman, a kind redhead with particularly large spectacles. "I'm fine," Ciel says quickly. He'd rather brush this off and get back to work. She looks skeptical and ready to question him. "Really Meyrin, I'm fine. Just fell in a little too deep." He tries a smile, and even though it looks like Meyrin is ready to argue, she drops it.

Ciel brushes himself off and stands straight. He drains the rest of the water from the cup and crushes the plastic in his hands. The sharp edges cut into his palm and ground him. It's all he can do to keep himself from falling back into what the scene before Ciel is telling him.

The boy, Alois Trancy, age 13, is hung, like a coat off a rack, from the trunk of a large cypress. That isn't the most striking aspect of the scene. While still alive, the boy is disemboweled. His intestines pulled out and stripped into fine lengths of pliable, meaty string.

The killer has been dubbed 'The Spider.' Accurately so due to the spider's web that hangs suspended before the corpses of all his victims; all made from the shredded strings of intestines. Trancy will now make four kills in all, and Ciel expects this will not be the last. The man has an eye for young boys, no older than fifteen. Causes of death vary, but each boy is an orphan coming from foster parents or larger institutions. The similarities end there, leaving nothing more to go on. Even the physical features are different. Trancy will make the second blond.

One thing's for sure, another body will be found. Ciel gives it a week, two at the most. The time frame between kills has been growing smaller, no doubt due to The Spider's growing confidence.

"What do you have for me, Phantomhive?" Tanaka, head of the Behavioral Science Department, looms over Ciel. He's an older man, going gray with age. Most would write him off as the grandfatherly type, Ciel knows better than to make that error. The man is all strict business and results.

Ciel shrugs. "He's getting more confident in his kills; there isn't as much collateral damage." He glances quickly at the scene. "They're art, flies trapped in the web of a spider."

Tanaka hums low in his throat. "Anything we don't already know?" The words are sharp, but Ciel expects they weren't meant to be too biting.

"I couldn't pick anything significant up," Ciel hedges.

"Couldn't or wouldn't?"

The penny dropped and the real issue is placed glaringly on the table. "Tanaka, there isn't anything new here. This guy is careful. He's a man who knows what he's doing. Until he fucks up, there isn't much more I'm going to be able to tell you." It's the closest to the truth Ciel can give. There might be more to see in the poor Trancy boy hanging like a rag, but Ciel won't be bullied into looking.

There is a frown line beginning to dig deep into Tanaka's brow. "Does this have to do with your-"

"It doesn't." Ciel's words are clipped and firm.

It's all Tanaka needs in order to see the truth of the matter. He sighs and looks at Ciel with nothing but pity. Ciel hates that looks. He hates everyone who gives him that look. Still, he can't quite bring himself to hate Tanaka; it's more of a deep dislike during moments such as these.

"Have you talked with Dr. Middleford?"

"Lizzy?" Ciel shakes his head. "We're too close. It's… Awkward." She knows Ciel too well, and cares far too much. Any help she would give would be too heavily biased. "Besides, I don't need to see a psychologist. I can handle myself."

"I never said you couldn't. I just need you at one hundred percent. Since I put you on this case I'm lucky if I see fifty percent from you. Children are dying, Ciel! I need you to get over your shit and get me this killer." Tanaka has an uncanny ability to look ten times his size and twenty times more intimidating when he wanted. Ciel shrunk with each well placed word. "Now if you don't mind, I will have you see a psychologist. You will go, you will work out any issues you have, and I will not be told otherwise."

Ciel is left to curse his miserable fate.

That evening finds Ciel back in Quantico. The four of them, Ciel, Meyrin, and two other investigators, Bard and Finny, stand around one of the metal tables in the morgue. Ciel hangs off to the side, out of view of the boy's body sprawled before inquiring eyes.

They are combing the body for any remaining evidence, though Ciel knows there is none to be found. Just the evidence of the natural area of the crime scene can be seen. There is no saliva, no semen. These boys weren't molested. Ciel figures that is one saving grace. Not that it matters, each boy still ended up dead.

Bard is arguing with Finny about the nature of the ligature marks. Despite the killer having worn gloves, there is the possibility of gaging the man's hand size. Whether that is relevant is the topic of heated debate.

"We already know he's a man. Unless we're going to go across Vermont comparing the hand sizes of the natives, I don't think it'll do much good." Bard shrugs.

"It could still narrow down our list of suspects," Finny retorts.

An amused huff follows and Bard shakes his head looking particularly exasperated. "Might as well hypothesis their dick size while you're at it."

"It' not like we even have a list of suspects as it is," Meyrin pipes in.

Ciel tunes them out and heads for the door. He isn't needed to hang around. Besides, he has an appointment in two hours. If he left now he can stop for coffee at the very least. Some caffeine will no doubt help to calm his nerves. Lizzy had called him on his drive back to Quantico with a time and place for his appointment. Apparently Tanaka had wasted no time. And, why should he? Ciel is his prime stallion, he can't afford to have him any less than at peak performance.

The thought makes Ciel feel bitter, but it is what it is. In the end Ciel will be getting his just desserts. Until then it seems as if he will be meeting a Dr. Sebastian Michaelis in Baltimore at 7:00 pm sharp. Lizzy had made a point to inform Ciel of the good doctor's dislike of tardiness. A rather childish part of Ciel feels as if he might just be late, just to spite the whole situation.

Regardless, Ciel makes it to the door of the colonial styled building with ten minutes to spare. Everything about the place looks posh and well kempt. Even the white pillars look freshly clean from nature's touch.

Ciel parks along the street, right before the paved walkway leading to the door. The engine shuffles to a stop and Ciel heaves a breath before slipping from his car. He is still dressed in the suit he wore early that morning. Between the flight back to Virginia and his time spent running around, Ciel hasn't bothered to change. There are faint smudges of grass stains on the knees of his trousers, but he feels inclined to disregard his current appearance. Ciel feels no need to impress. None whatsoever.

The front door is open, leaving Ciel to wander down the polished entrance hall. Each door has a plaque plastered to the front. It doesn't take long to find one which reads Dr. Sebastian Michaelis. Ciel enters without much fuss and finds a warm and inviting waiting room. There are plush couches and chairs, and books lain out on tables. Ciel sits and grabs for a book. Kafka's Metamorphosis; at least there is quality reading material.

As he looks, Ciel finds copies of Goethe's Faust, collected poetry of Baudelaire's, and Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. He is just about to pick up another when the door opens and a woman with flaming red hair waltzes out. Her every movement is exaggerated, but poised. The red seems to be an ongoing theme, reaching even to her crimson pant suit.

Behind her a man appears, and Ciel can only guess that this is Dr. Michaelis. He smiles to his patient and bides goodbye, "I'll see you same time next week, Ms. Sutcliff?"

"Of course," the woman, whose voice is a little too deep to be feminine, answers. Despite the pronoun used, Ciel has to second guess the woman's actual sex. The more he looks, the more he is will to pick out the masculine traits. Before he can ponder on it too long, she is out the door and Ciel becomes the sole inhabitant of Dr. Michaelis' attention.

"You must be Ciel Phantomhive?" he asks, though Ciel knows it might as well be rhetorical.

"And you must be Dr. Michaelis." Score two for stating the obvious.

Dr. Michaelis smiles wide, it seems as if he finds Ciel's words rather humorous. "You can call me Sebastian if you prefer. This meeting isn't of a purely professional nature since we are keeping it out of the books." Sebastian smiles wider at this. "So I don't think it'll hurt if we drop the formalities."

"No, I suppose not."

The door is held open for Ciel, every action speaking of a warm welcome, yet it still feels as if Ciel is walking into a hornet's nest. One way or another he'll be stung. He walks in nonetheless, and doesn't acknowledge the chill that runs down his spine as the door clicks closed behind him.

Sebastian sits down in one of two leather chairs positioned across from, but facing, one another. He motions for Ciel to sit in the remaining space. "Let's begin, shall we?"

Something tells Ciel that he'll live to regret this. Still, he moves to the leather chair, sits, and they begin. Fate and future be damned. It is not like Ciel ever bought into such predestined notions. His life is of his own making, that and the mistakes that might occur along the way.

"I have to say, when Dr. Middleford called me, I was rather pleased to indulge in her request," Sebastian begins in a rich foreign accent. Something distinctly European, and closer to British than anything else. He's all business, right down to his pressed three piece suit. Ciel imagines it cost more than his last month paycheck. "If you don't mind me stating, you are something of an enigma in the psychological community."

Ciel frowns. "I do mind." He does not need to be reminded of his special talents. Tanaka is sure to highlight and bring plenty of attention to them daily. "I don't believe I'm here to be studied Dr. Michaelis."

"Sebastian."

The correction is waved to the side. Ciel feels childishly inclined to not indulge him. "I'm only here because I have no other choice. Now, if you please, can we keep this focused on my…" Ciel doesn't want to put a name to it. Post-traumatic stress sounds too clinical. It makes the issue too real and Ciel would rather this be swept under the rug as quickly as possible.

"Fair enough," Sebastian graciously waves a white flag. He begins with the basics. "Your father was a special agent as well, wasn't he?"

Quick to the point, Ciel can respect that, if only it isn't probing into his personal life. He huffs but answers. "He was; worked some big undercover cases. All long term."

"Were you close? I expect he wasn't around much."

It is true. Ciel can probably count the times he saw his father for longer than a day on one hand. He was always working, but he was never a bad father. "We were close… He always made time for me when he had it. I sometimes think my mother resented me a little for it. It was only ever me and her, except when my father came home. Then it was me and him; she would always just sit alone and watch as he played with me."

Sebastian jots down some notes. Ciel frowns, feeling suddenly mad. He pushes it to the side and waits for Sebastian to prompt him to continue. "They died when you were young?" Sebastian asks at last.

The story of their death is no secret. Ciel knows it ran in the papers for months, and is still talked about in some circles. "I was ten, yes."

"How did they die?"

"You know as well as I do," Ciel snarks.

The out lash goes ignored. "They were murdered." Ciel nods, and doesn't add to Sebastian's confirmation. "Were you there?"

"Yes." It's pulled from between gritted teeth. Why is he here again? Ciel squirms in his chair. After a moment, he stands and begins to walk around the room. He can feel Sebastian's eyes on him. He's had people stare at him before. Ciel is used to stares. Most come in the form of pity, some purely judgmental. It is not unheard of for Ciel to gain fearful looks as he walks through the halls of the bureau. There are stories of Ciel, unsightly ones from crime scenes that never set well with him. It was a particular type of mental indigestion.

Ciel isn't a stranger to looks of wanting either; it's a hot stare that caresses down his body. The weight of Sebastian's eyes carry a similar heat, but all the more consuming. It's not sexual, he doesn't believe it to be. But, it is hungry for something Ciel can't name. Usually it is particularly easy for Ciel to read people, to get into their heads. Dr. Sebastian Michaelis is a stone wall. As hard as he tries, Ciel can't breach the walls. It's wholly unsettling.

"You're working The Spider case?" Ciel falters, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. The breath that leaves him is one of relief.

A smooth chuckle escapes past Ciel's lips as he thinks of how to answer. It's not information easily given. "That's confidential," he teases.

Sebastian smiles. "I've official been asked to consult on the case. I'm sure you can allow me to pick your mind."

This is news to Ciel. "Tanaka asked you?" He ignores the second half of Sebastian's statement.

"I believe Dr. Middleford suggested it." She would, Ciel knows.

"You mentored her?"

"I did, smart young woman." Smart is putting it lightly, but Ciel nods in agreement. There isn't much you could get past Lizzy without her knowing.

"Do you have any insight on the case, Doctor?" A good part of Ciel is intrigued by what the doctor might have in mind. After four morbid scenes of blood and gore, Ciel is happy for a new perspective.

Sebastian motions Ciel back to the chair. "Are you familiar with the mythology surrounding spiders, Ciel?" There is a pause where Ciel shakes his head. "Depending on the culture, they can represent anything from creation, tricksters, or demons."

"The Spider sees his victims as pieces of art." That much Ciel is sure of. "They are beings of his own creation."

"Arachne was a master weaver. She figured herself so skilled that she challenged the great Athena. The goddess could not take the slight to her pride. Each created a beautiful tapestry, but Arachne's was a sight to behold. Out of pride and anger, Athena destroy Arachne's creation and subjected her to a life of guilt. The guilt being too much, Arachne took her own life. Athena soon took pity on the poor girl; she resurrected her in the body of a spider. Arachne was gifted with a life to weave her webs of art." Sebastian finishes the tale, his eyes fixate on Ciel's own. Ciel turns away quickly.

"Are you suggesting that our Spider is Arachne, or perceives himself to be so?" It is not the worst assumption to be made. It is more than they had two hours ago at the lab.

"He will have considered himself reborn, most likely at the hands of what he believes to be a heavenly being. You'll be looking for someone who survived being pronounced clinically dead, and obviously who has a background in art… possibly textiles."

A million possibilities are floating through Ciel's head. Unrelated clues that have been floating aimlessly are finally coming together. "The victims, all their eyes had been gorged out. He doesn't like to be seen by them, he doesn't want to be seen for what he is." Each word comes slow and precise. "What were you reborn into?" Ciel wonders.

"A spider," Sebastian supplies. "His goddess turned him into a spider; a monster whose only purpose is to worship her with art. He is weaving Athena's webs."

"Who's Athena?" That is the question.

Ciel pulls out his cell and scrolls down his speed dial. Tanaka answers in two rings.

"Phantomhive?"

"He died, our perp. He was pronounced clinically dead but was revived, probably a week or two before the murders started happening. There will be a woman mentioned; something to do with her having a hand in his revival." Ciel rushes the words out. He feels as if they might actually have their first true lead.

There is some muffled yelling over the line before Tanaka's deep voice filters through again. "Bard's on it…" He trails off as he talks to the others in the room.

Ciel waits patiently. The news comes soon enough. "We have a match! Claude Faustus, male, Caucasian, age 32. He was in an accident five months ago, heart stopped. EMTs were ready to call him, but a young woman, Hannah Annafellows, who had been the one to call the incident in pleaded for them to continue to attempt to resuscitate him. She saved his life."

"What's her occupation?" Ciel asks.

It takes a moment as the information is being collected. "She's a social worker."

"And Faustus?"

"Deals in antiquities, mainly tapestries."

Bingo, they have him. "That's our guy!" Ciel's up and grabbing for his coat. "I'm coming in. Do we have an address?"

"461 Bay Drive, Kent Island." It's Bard who answers. No doubt Tanaka ran off to round everyone up.

"That's only an hour's drive…" Ciel knows he can make it there first. They can't waste any more time.

Bard curses under his breath. "Don't you—" Ciel hangs up before he can hear the rest of it. Tanaka will be mad, but he'll thank Ciel in the end. He waste no time rushing back through the waiting room and into the hall. It does not even occur to Ciel that it might be rude to not say goodbye to Sebastian. He rather rushed out in a hurry.

It's not until he picks up the unnatural echo of his footsteps that Ciel stops and turns. Sebastian is there, coat in hand, and looking very inclined to follow. For a moment Ciel thinks to object, but shrugs and keeps on towards the front door.

"I'm driving!" Ciel exclaims as they meet the dark evening. Sebastian does not think to argue.

They make it to Kent in record time. Sebastian does not comment on Ciel's driving, but Ciel gets the impression that he wants to. Ciel gets the impression that there are a lot of things Sebastian would like to say to him. He eyes Sebastian as he slips from the car. The doctor is so well put together that it makes Ciel feel dirty in comparison. He is suddenly reminded of the grass stains on his knees. Self-conscious is not a feeling Ciel takes well to.

Bay Drive is a small water side street, made up of brightly painted seaside vacation homes. The house in question is bright, painted a warm beige. It looks innocent, not the lair of an infamous serial killer. They ring the doorbell and wait. Sebastian is warm and nice smelling beside Ciel. It's intoxicating in an alluring sort of way. He tries his hardest to ignore it.

A man answers; he's tall, dark hair and glasses. When he sees Ciel he smiles, but does not afford Sebastian the same courtesy. The two men stare at each other. Sebastian's smile breaks the awkward tension.

"We are looking for a Claude Faustus," Ciel states.

"Who's asking?" He keeps watching Sebastian out of the corner of his eye.

All it takes is Ciel flashing his badge to gain Claude's full attention. "Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?" Ciel isn't sure what he expects, but it's not what he gets. Claude's eyes flicker to the side and he pales tremendously. The door shuts in their face and the lock clicks in place.

Ciel spares a look at Sebastian, but the doctor's face is unreadable. "That went we—" A scream, feminine in nature, rips through the silent street. It spurs Ciel into motion. His gun is drawn and his shoulder is ramming again the door.

"Let me." Sebastian manhandles him out of the way.

"Don't fucking touch me…" Ciel loses the bite to his words as Sebastian elegantly kicks the door open. Ciel waste no time rushing into the house. The entry and living room are empty. A table is over turned by the couch and there is a lady's purse and shoes by the door. If Ciel has to guess, they belong to one Hannah Annafellows.

Another scream filters in through the house and Ciel rounds the corner into the kitchen. His gun pinpoints Claude, revolver pressed into Hannah's temple. Claude is breathing hard and whispering into the woman's ear. Whatever the words, they cause nothing but tears to spill from Hannah's eyes.

"Drop your weapon!" Ciel yells.

Claude shakes and presses his gun in harder. "No… no. You can't have her!" He looks panicked, and Ciel supposes he has a right to be. "She's mine, she's mine, she's mine!" The gun jerks to the side and the trigger pulled. There is a burning in Ciel's shoulder that he doesn't recognize at first. His first reaction is to shoot, all instincts telling him to fight.

A bullet catches Claude in the side and Hannah launches herself away into a corner. Ciel shoots again and again. Five bullets find themselves in the tender flesh of Claude Faustus. There is blood on the floor pooling around Claude and more blood running down Ciel's side and arm. He's confused at first, not making the connection as to the true owner of the blood. Claude is across the kitchen smiling at his handy work as Ciel inspects the gunshot wound with a strange indifference.

Claude's smile disappears as Sebastian sweeps into the room and to Ciel's side. He's applying pressure onto Ciel's shoulder and pushes him to lay on the floor. Abstractly Ciel knows he is going into shock, but he can't tear his eyes away from the bloody dying body of Claude Faustus. There is a frantic look in his eye. The stare is far off, but aimed eerily in Ciel's direction.

"It's not fair… You're the same. Why… why me… why… Se… Sssss…" The last breath leaves Claude and Ciel feels his consciousness go with it. He's vaguely aware of Sebastian's warm hand on his shoulder and the sounds of Hannah's weeping.

Ciel doesn't think to question a dying man's last words.

To Be Continued . . .

Note: I'm not overly familiar with the areas mentioned, so I took creatively liberties is describing them.

Also, the information about spider mythology came from Wikipedia. My one stop shop for quick info.