Authors Notes: It came to mind, I wrote it. For now its a one shot. I might add more if the demand is there for it.

Enjoy.

I own nothing.

Not Beta Read

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Chapter 01

Hannibal, though never cruel to the homeless and needy who lined the streets of lesser areas, was never one to go out of his way to assist those who were found wanting on corners or in shelters of cardboard lined with newsprint, the socialite much preferring to keep to the cleaner streets of Baltimore's elite unless otherwise hunting.

But then again he'd never seen a man strolling with causality on the road side after midnight dressed in nothing but moon light and blood.

The closer his Bentley drew the more his skin appeared as though it had been carved from alabaster marble streaked with crimson. He walked with slow meaningful steps despite his nudity and the bare nature of his feet over, the road side gravel no doubt digging into his skin and me sauntered on into the night toward his unseen destination.

He either didn't notice or didn't care that a car had passed him, the nudist having no interest in the prospect of hitchhiking as he continued forward soaked from head to toe with rust colored rubies. It was possibly the most interesting thing Hannibal had seen all week, enough so to have the Bentley slow to a stop on the curb side and the killer exit his car to greet the beautiful man.

"Good evening," Hannibal greeted, remaining still as the anomaly approached. It was like watching the descent of an angel of death. To have called him beautiful would have done little more than insult to the being that approached him in slow steady strides. He donned moonlight and blood like a veil of sheer silk to cover his body of tight whipcord muscle and too prominent ribs, his skin smooth and unblemished save for the twist of a scar on his shoulder and trail of dark hair the led from navel to plentiful cock.

"Excuse me," His steps didn't falter as he passed Hannibal, barely casting a look with eyes the shade of storm ocean skies.

He would not be so easily deterred from the siren who called to him with skin and mystery, "You seem lost." He offered, turning to watch the sway of rounded hips and well-formed butt.

"No I don't," Was returned, the man continuing without hesitation as he walked further down the street side, "I seem insane, as do you for stopping to ask a naked man covered in blood if he's lost."

"Perhaps I only wish to be helpful, god forbid we be friendly." The barest pull of a smile tugged thin lips and he followed, the sound of gravel moving underfoot in greeting of the strangers new company.

His angel scoffed, keeping pace despite the raw flesh visible on his abused feet. "I don't find you that interesting."

"You will." The promise finally brought his steps to a halt, Hannibal catching up to stand by the interesting man as he at last turned to face Hannibal with eyes that refused to rise higher than the Windsor knot of his paisley tie. "You're a psychopath," he said with full lips Hannibal very much wished to kiss and render the skin on, feel the warmth of flesh against his teeth and blood across his tongue as he man the man before him moan his name, "I have no reason to trust you not to kill me."

"A psychopath?" This man was both beautiful and intelligent. It made him want to preen like a peacock its mate, "what makes you so sure?"

He didn't roll his eyes but the look offered was enough to let Hannibal know that such things were being implied. "It's the middle of the night," He stated the obvious, "I'm walking the highway naked and covered in blood. Only two kinds of people pursue a man like that. Either you're a cop or a killer and a cop wouldn't be flirting with me." Hannibal felt his heart jump as so little became so much, "You're interested. You're a psychopath."

"You are wondering the streets alone and covered in blood. Perhaps I'm a concerned citizen." He countered, enjoying the way moonlight lit up the wisps of curls like a halo around him. He would have preferred him without the scruff of beard over a face that would look much younger without it, but such things were easily fixed.

He barked a laugh, hallow and mocking. "No, you're hunting. But you don't see me as pray." Hannibal did not deny him, though no affirmation was offered either, only the silent tilt in curiousness for the man to continue. He sighed, but did as silently bidden, "You're suit, your car, your micro expressions. The gloves to cover finger prints, the silent way you walk on feet and hold yourself as though to exude power. You're a monster pretending to be human and hiding behind a suit fashioned of smiles and lies and I can see it as clearly as I see the stars skirting behind the clouds in their own disguise."

He wanted to applaud him, kiss him and render the flesh of his flawless body to make him for his own so that no other would ever confuse to whom this clever man belonged.

"You see all this with one look?" He pressed when he longed to hold.

"Yes." His eyes were skirting from the tailored vest and jacket of his three piece suit to the cashmere scarf that hung loose around his neck and heavy wool coat that protected him against the late autumn air.

"What a beautiful gift." He whispered to earn a look of deep confusion from the man before him, as though such a thing should be seen as anything but. He would help him to understand the beauty of what he had. "May I ask as to why are you wondering the streets bloody and without clothes?"

Blue grey eyes made it as far as his mouth before stopping, focusing on his lips with an air of loss about him. It answered more questions for Hannibal than the boy need know. "I don't remember."

"Do you remember your name?" He pressed, slipping the heavy wool coat from his shoulders to drape around the quieting man now that more truths were coming to light.

He watched the movement like a stray, untrusting of the warmth he was being wrapped in. He hadn't even realized he was cold until the touch of burning warmth was pressed against his skin. "No." He answered at last, eyes dropping as he searched inside himself for something to come up short, "I woke up this way." He was an enigma, one Hannibal desperately wished to uncover and reveal.

"Naked and covered in blood?" He coaxed, not yet leading the man back to his car. The care of a stray animal was tricky business, an establishment of trust needed before they would follow their future keeper home.

"Naked." He amended, shuffling with some discomfort at the memory.

He felt his stomach do a flip, the rise of excitement twisting his gut as something else interesting began reveal before him in this boy, "And the blood?" Storm wracked oceans met blood stained earth and a thrill gripped him as he saw the crouching beast of a killer within. "Who did you kill?" he whispered.

"Are their names for swine?" He asked and Hannibal knew. If it was said that God created a match for everyone than this man had been specially crafted for him, standing more beautiful than the Mona Lisa he was a wonderment onto himself, a being meant to be revered.

"No," grey eyes slid away and he knew as much as Hannibal that he had found his match. "Come, you must be hungry. Allow me to cook for you." A gentle hand caressed his shoulder, the slow encouragement of trust.

A skeptical look was given to his hand in a side glance before those eyes returned to his throat. "You have nowhere else to go. Allow me to give you some place to stay while you learn who you are." A breath of wind carrying with it the autumn chill seemed to be the last encouragement needed, the man turning to begin the walk back to the car with Hannibal's hand set firmly to the small of his back in guidance.

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"Do you have people over who aren't psychopaths?" The nudist asked as he was led through the extravagant Baltimore home and into one of the guest bathrooms on the second floor. Though he had nothing to memory to compare the lavish room against he still knew it was impressive. Marble of blue streaked with silver made up the counter and floor, a bath large enough to easily accommodate two full grown men taking the vast majority the room.

"Yes," Hannibal answered with a hint of amusement, glancing back over his shoulder as he ran a bath for the younger male, "I'm quite sociable. I had the administrator of the Baltimore Hospital for the Criminally Insane over for dinner just last night." Adjusting the water to something just shy of scalding he motioned for his new house guest to climb into the tub.

Stepping forward he shed the coat like a chrysalis to pool at his feet, allowing Hannibal to witness all that he was before climbing into a bath tinted green with salts and scented of aloe and cedar. "And they haven't arrested you? They must be blind." His words were caught between a hiss and groan, the heat too much and exactly what he needed. Burning his flesh as it relaxed muscles wound tight from too many hours walking in the cold and whatever else he might have been doing before.

Rolling his sleeves Hannibal took a seat on the wide side of the tub, soaping a cloth to begin scrubbing blood stained skin clean with a firm hand. The man leaned into him, rolling his shoulders to loosen knots as his flesh was seen to. "They see the world of smoke and mirrors that I have created for them," he soaked the cloth in fresh bath water, watching a cloud of rust bleed into the pale green liquid of the tub. "You are the first to see through me."

"It takes one to know one I guess." He ducked his head as a hand reached round to scrub his chest, lifting away evidence to be rinsed away without a trace.

Taking the angels beautiful face into his hands he turned him so their eyes might meet, the elusive things seeking out his mouth and ear in avoidance of the deep maroon that sought them. "Tell me how you killed them." It was almost a plea, a polite request that Hannibal needed fulfilled much as he needed air to breath and water to drink.

"I stabbed them." He said simply, explaining the arterial spray that had covered his front, the drops of crimson he was gently working from his face, "In the throat. He was coming toward me with gasoline and matches. I was lying in a shallow ditch. Found a piece of broken glass and when he got close pushed it through his throat." It would have been enough for self defense, but there was more. "He was still breathing when I started flaying the skin from his back, propping him up to kneel like an angle with wings of flesh stretched and held with brackets I fashioned from sticks." It had been crude, unfinished without the proper tools to display the man who had been left to burn. He'd needed fishing wire to create an angel, but didn't have any. "I tied his hands with strips of cloth from his shirt and supported his body with rocks." He blinked remembering the blaze as evil was punished. "I soaked him in the gasoline meant for me, left him to burn in the hell fire." He didn't scream, couldn't. Whether it was his death that had silenced him or the hole in his throat had made no difference. He had watched the inferno with a sense of serine justice and left when the smell became too much for his stomach.

"Beautiful," he leaned in to capture full lips with his own in a kiss between killers, the nameless man tensing in surprise as his mouth was parted with a coaxing tongue to plunge inside and map the depths within.

His angel moaned, closing his eyes to lean into the kiss and slip soaking arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush to the nameless man as tongues searched and teeth nipped. He slipped his fingers into curls made stiff by dried blood, his angel hissing to pull back as Hannibal found the source of his memory loss.

"You've suffered a blow to the head." Brow furrowed grey eyes focused on the water to once again search for things he could not yet find, a memory of 'how' and 'when' he would not know the answer to for some time. "I'd like to examine it when we're done to make sure it's clean."

Fingers searched blood gritted curls to gingerly touch the split mound of flesh on the back of his skull. It was tender, making him wince as he touched the matted hair there. "Sure." He grabbed the abandoned cloth focusing on removing the remaining blood that clung to his skin as broad hands began to loosen the same from his hair, softening curls to separate and examine the split.

"You're most likely suffering from retrograde amnesia." Hannibal explained, "Unless there is a psychological suppression aiding the trauma you should have your memories recovered in a few hours." He pulled the drain gathering one of his softer towels paired in a dark blue to match the room for the man to dry himself. "If you'll allow me a moment, I should have something you can wear."

Standing at nearly the same height as Hannibal, though his build was considerably leaner than his own, there would be little trouble in his angel sharing his wardrobe until he had time to take him shopping and to the tailors or his memories returned.

"I found a pair of pajamas that should fit you well enough." He smiled upon entering the bathroom to find the man examining himself in the mirror, towel left forgotten on the floor much as the coat had been.

He was staring down a stranger, trying desperately to read something within a set of eyes that were both his own and not. "I don't know this man," He said at last, speaking to Hannibal as he stared at himself. "I feel like a mosaic, like I have a hundred thousand people crawling around inside my head, each one making up a piece of me until they form my face and eyes and teeth." He touched the scruff of his jaw, thumb running along the bone in a slow draw. "You don't like my beard." He said without hesitation, as though Hannibal had announced as much earlier aloud and no within the confines of his mind. "You think it takes away from my appearance. You want me to shave it and in turn I see what you want, feel it as though those thoughts are my own and it makes me want to shave it. But I don't know if I want to shave it or if I only want to shave it because you want me to shave it." He let his hand fall away, furrowing his brow at the stranger who stared back at him. "I don't know if I like having have a beard or not."

"You have an empathy disorder." Hannibal observed, coming behind him to set the clothing on the counter as he looked over his shoulder to watch blue grey eyes that focused on only their own. "It could be exacerbating the memory loss." It could be used to influence him.

"I don't know myself and I can't remember who I am. I'm not going to remember if I keep losing myself to other people." He was frustrated, understandably so. The loss of one's self was a terrible fate, he only hoped that meant he could keep this stranger long enough to endear himself to him before his memories return.

He ran his hands from shoulder to elbow, feeling the smooth skin beneath his palm with thoughts to its dryness. Whoever this man had been in his previous life he had failed to care for himself. Hannibal would not allow such failure to continue while under his care. "Then perhaps you should build yourself something new until the time your memories resurface." He leaned closer, coming to whisper like a serpent in his ear, "pick a name for yourself and you will have taken the reins, rebuild yourself, your likes and opinions, and you will control the chaos."

"If you can't go back move forward," he summarized, as hands move to settle on the swell of his hips to feel too prominent bones.

"Yes," Was whispered with the brush of lips to stubble, a possessive hand curling around the angels waist to slid a palm across the plain of stomach. "What is your name?"

Several long moments passed as he stared into the mirror, losing himself in depths of blue as he searched his mind for a name that came without chaos. If he was lucky, he may even pick his own. A hand several shades lighter than the one pressed to his waist came to settle over his hosts and he leaned back into the solid form behind him. "Adam." He decided.

"Adam," it made him smile. The barest pull of lips against his angels skin. "Of course, if you cannot remember your beginning, return to the worlds. It's beautiful." It was perfect for his angel of death.

"It'll do." He conceded turning to meet lips with his own.

"You must be hungry Adam. Shall I prepare something light for you before bed?" He allowed the man to turn within his arms, facing him as he had in the tub to loop arms around his shoulders and met him in a kiss.

"I'd rather see your kill room."

TBC

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