Warning: Graphic depictions of violence

Will didn't have the exact time, but he knew that he was about halfway back to the hospital. He fingered the utility knife he'd swiped from Simon O'Neill's room, humming behind his mask. A few quick slashes, a stolen gun, and he'd be gone.

He tilted his head to the side, eyeing the closest FBI agent. The man was staring at his partner's shoes, alert but not quite watching Will. A glance to the left showed the same thing. Tsk, Will thought, what is the FBI teaching its agents these days?

Will kept his eyes on the agents as he freed one hand, then the other. They really weren't paying attention to him, because by the time he'd slid his arms down and cut at the straps keeping him pinned to the trolley they had only just begun to realise that something was wrong.

Will threw himself at the agent to his right, his utility knife easily sinking into the man's neck. Will ripped it sideways and blood spurted up and out of his skin, spraying across Will's face and jumpsuit. Will didn't stop to watch the man die, too busy killing his partner; this one got his gun out, a shot off, but it went wide and hit the wall of the van.

There was a shout from the front seats, but Will ignored it in favour of wrestling the FBI agent to the floor and slitting his throat. As he laid bleeding to death, gurgling for breath, Will grabbed his gun, aimed at the partition that separated the front of the van from the back, and fired.

Six shots aimed somewhere at the driver were enough; the van swerved to the left, hit dirt and a ditch. Will was tossed into the partition, the trolley remaining fixed to the middle of the van. There was a crunch, a ringing in Will's ears, and the van stopped.

He was dazed, and his head throbbed, but Will didn't have time to wait; he unlocked the back of the van and stumbled out onto the grass.

The passenger door opened and the last FBI agent crawled out. His head was bleeding, and his gaze was unfocused as he blearily aimed his gun at Will. Will raised his own and pulled the trigger-

They fired at the same time, and Will felt white-hot pain in his shoulder. He didn't let that deter him, firing over and over again until the agent dropped to the ground, dead, his torso a canvas of blood and gore. Will approached slowly, finger still on the trigger, and kicked the agent for good measure; nope, definitely dead.

'Well then,' Will mused and looked down at his right arm. The bullet had just grazed him, tearing open his jumpsuit and skin. He'd need stitches, but Hannibal could deal with that when they met up. Will smiled and stepped over the agent to climb back into the van. There was a cellphone on the floor, jammed under the dead driver's foot. Will grabbed it and dialled the BSH.

'You've reached the Baltimore Sate Hospital for the Criminally Insane,' a perky voice answered after a few rings. 'This is Dr Chen's office, how may I help you?'

''Ello,' Will drawled, adopting the accent of the driver. 'This is Agent deVally. Can I talk to Dr Chen?'

'Of course,' the woman replied. 'One moment, please.'

There was a pause, and then;

'Dr Chen speaking. How can I help you, Agent deVally?'

Will smirked. 'We're gonna be a little late on gettin' Graham back, Doc. Agent Crawford needs 'im for somethin'.'

{oOo}

Dr Chen didn't feel like straight-jackets were necessary when the inmates- even Hannibal and Will- were moved about the hospital. Hannibal's hands were simply cuffed behind his back, two orderlies walking either side of him.

The rooms used for conjugal visits were past the staff break room, at the end of the floor; Hannibal knew from all the times he'd been walked by. He always kept his eyes open, listened and breathed to see the hospital's weak points. As the orderlies moved him past the room, Hannibal paused.

'I'm sorry,' he said to the one on his left- Glenn, he believed. 'But can you get me a cup of water?' The orderly hesitated. 'I won't accept it until I'm in the room, uncuffed, and locked in,' Hannibal added.

Glenn glanced over Hannibal's head- at his partner. Hannibal didn't turn around. Finally Glenn nodded and turned, using a keycard on his belt to open the double-doors. He stepped inside and the other orderly moved Hannibal back a few steps so that he could watch his partner and Hannibal at the same time.

Hannibal had already slid one of Will's fishing lures into his hand. The cuffs unlocked with a near-silent click, and Hannibal didn't hesitate; he dug the handcuff's single strand into the orderly's neck, pulling until the man's throat tore and blood sprayed the wall. Hannibal kicked the dying man back and into the room, where the other one was turning.

Glenn dropped the paper cup of water he was holding and reached for his mace, but Hannibal was already stalking across the room. Glenn backed up and slammed his hand onto one of the panic buttons mounted on the wall before Hannibal could kill him. Lights started flashing and a piercing alarm deafened them both; it made the orderly fumble with his mace, hand trying to grab his baton at the same time.

It led to his death, Hannibal easily wrapping an arm around Glenn's neck and twisting. His neck snapped audibly and Hannibal dropped him. He unlocked the other handcuff before he took the orderlies' mace. When he'd straightened up he smiled and headed for the hallway; now all he had to do was get out of the building, find a car, and most importantly, find Will.

{oOo}

The van carrying Will Graham and four FBI agents was found on the side of the road. It had hit a tree when the agent driving was shot through the back of the head. The man in the passenger seat had managed to escape and get about two feet from the van before being gunned down. There was blood found near him, drops leading away and into the trees lining the road; he'd wounded Graham before the killer managed to escape.

Starling heard about it over the phone from Zeller, the man cursing Will Graham between every sentence. Starling was more focused on the room before her, its doors held open. The doors were awash with blood, streaks going almost to the ceiling; it had dried, now, crusting on the brown paint.

Lecter was gone, having escaped through a back entrance a bit further down. The team investigating wasn't sure exactly how he'd gotten off of the grounds, yet. All they knew was that Lecter was gone; Graham, too.

Starling hung up when Zeller cursed his former colleague once more. She shoved her cell into her pocket and took a step back from the elevator.

Dr Chen was sitting in a chair down the hall, head in his hands. Starling sat on the floor beside him.

'Do you blame yourself, Agent Starling?' he asked after a beat, voice muffled.

Starling didn't want to lie; 'Yes.'

He laughed. 'I let Lecter out.'

'I let Graham out,' she countered.

Dr Chen nodded slightly.

'They would have gotten out eventually,' she decided. All they'd needed was the right circumstances; Starling had provided them. She'd been a pawn in their game, just like Crawford had warned her. They'd played her expertly.

Dr Chen breathed out shakily. 'Now I know why my two predecessors quit,' he said.

'Do you think they'll come after you?' Starling questioned.

'No,' Dr Chen said. 'I'm not important enough.' He turned to look at her, the warning clear in his eyes; but you might be.

Starling didn't say a word; didn't move, not even when her cell trilled in her pocket. She just sat and stared at the wall, Dr Chen doing the same beside her.

{oOo}

Hannibal pulled the flat cap he'd bought lower over his forehead as a car pulled in beside his at the filling station. The engine was switched off and a door opened, slammed shut. Hannibal kept his eyes on the numbers steadily ticking upwards, the tank almost full. And then someone was leaning against the car beside him, shifting from foot-to-foot.

Hannibal opened his mouth, prepared to kill if it was a police officer, lie if it was someone who recognised him, or brush the person off if they had a question. The words died in his throat, however, when his red-brown eyes found the bright blues of his husband.

Will was smirking at him. 'Couldn't smell me, Dr Lecter?' he questioned.

Hannibal licked his lips before saying, 'You no longer wear that atrocious aftershave that I always associated with you.'

'I stopped wearing that when I met Molly,' Will commented, a frown on his face.

Hannibal smirked. 'Your new choice was no better, dear Will.'

Will rolled his eyes and fisted a hand in Hannibal's jacket as he said, 'Get over here and kiss me.'

The former doctor allowed himself to be pulled, his body soon pressed up against Will's from chest to thighs. Will kissed him first, crushing their mouths together and immediately moaning. Hannibal licked and bit at Will's lips, sucked on the younger man's tongue when Will finally opened his mouth. Kissing here, in the open, no jumpsuits or locked doors or people watching their every move... it was heavenly, addictive, and Hannibal promised himself in that moment that he would never let his Will go again. He would die before he was locked up again, separated from his husband...

Or he'd insist on a joint cell. It wasn't like he and Will were a danger to each other; not any more.

They broke apart only when breathing became necessary, and Hannibal stared at Will's lips when Will bit the bottom one.

'So...' Will mused. 'Going my way?' He added a cocked eyebrow, a cheeky little smile, and Hannibal laughed. He laughed until Will kissed him again, sounds muffled by each other's lips.

{oOo}

The FBI found Daniel Scott and Simon O'Neill four days later. Both had been murdered and positioned over the body of one of O'Neill's victims... or Scott's, rather, tests later showed. Blood under Scott's fingernails belonged to the third victim, and it had been found that O'Neill had done nothing more than sit in the corner before he was murdered.

Daniel Scott was the real killer, always had been. Had played O'Neill, perhaps; used their relationship to buy himself an accomplice and an alibi. Like Lecter had before him.

Only Scott and O'Neill were dead at the hands of Lecter and Graham, who had disappeared completely. Starling sat at her desk staring at the reports before her. She was in her home, because she didn't have an office at the BAU; never would, maybe, after this clusterfuck of a case. Crawford was storming around like an angry bear, and even Starling had scuttled out of his way.

Starling realised that Lecter must have known that Daniel Scott was the real killer. She could remember the look on his face after she'd said Simon O'Neill's name- the look that Starling wouldn't exactly call surprise, but what might have been surprise for a psychopath. And then Graham, later, staring past her and at Lecter when O'Neill was mentioned; laughing when he realised that the FBI was hunting the wrong man.

Lecter had known. Had warned Scott. And later, he'd hunted the man and his lover down.

Starling's room-mate shouted that dinner was ready from down the hall, but Starling only moved to open another file. Inside were two photos; Lecter and Graham, pictures taken when they'd been brought in for murdering five people together. Both were staring at the camera, eyes dark.

They looked alive, though. So alive, even in print. Whatever had happened with Dolarhyde- whatever had happened after- had made both of them truly live for the first time. Starling was sure of it.

'Clarice! Hey, Starling!'

Starling looked up. Her room-mate, Ardelia Mapp, was leaning against the door frame.

'Dinner's ready,' Mapp repeated.

'Yes, I heard you,' Starling said. 'Sorry, I was just thinking.'

'About Lecter and Graham?' When Starling nodded, Mapp laughed. 'Girl, seriously; you need to forget them.'

'They escaped, Ardelia,' Starling reminded her. 'Because of me.'

'Eh.' Mapp shrugged. 'If it wasn't you, it would have been someone else; they'd clearly been planning this for years.' She walked further into the room. 'Don't beat yourself up, girl. Just be thankful that Lecter and Graham have, apparently, left the country. I feel safer knowing that they aren't in America.'

'Yeah,' Starling murmured. She didn't think that Lecter and Graham would come after her specifically; she was positive that she hadn't annoyed them or intrigued them that much. But still... she never wanted to see either man again.

With a bit more coaxing, Mapp managed to get Starling to close the files and leave her room. She stuffed them into her desk, either to be forgotten or looked at again in the morning; obsessed over, really.

Starling sat at their small table and let Mapp feed her, smiling when the other woman made jokes in an attempt to put her in a better mood. After an hour, she managed to forget about Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham.

For the night, anyway.

{oOo}

It was night in Venice and water lapped at the edges of the canals. Despite the late hour, there were still tourists wandering around the Piazza San Marco, camera flashes blinding those too close every other minute.

Hannibal would usually marvel at the beauty around him, but tonight his eyes were on his husband. Will was smiling as he stared up at the sky, at the stars visible, despite being so far away. Hannibal's eyes didn't leave his face, roamed it to catch each and every twitch, every flash of emotion that passed through Will's expressive eyes and across his face.

'Stop staring at me,' Will murmured.

Hannibal smirked. 'I enjoy staring at you, caro Guglielmo.'

'Stop calling me Gugielmo,' was Will's next order.

'Caro William?' Hannibal ventured. Will scowled at him. 'William, ti adoro. Sei tutto per me. Mi sono infatuato di te. Ti voglio-'

'Okay,' Will laughed. 'Enough.'

Hannibal smiled and tugged on Will's hand, drew his partner in close until he could brush his nose through Will's chocolate curls. 'I adore you,' Hannibal breathed.

Will hummed and snuffled at Hannibal's neck. 'Ti voglio baciare,' Will said, his Italian somewhat stilted. He hadn't picked it up completely yet, but he was getting better with each passing day.

'Sì,' Hannibal replied and hooked his fingers under Will's jaw. Will allowed his head to be lifted easily, and his blue eyes were so very bright before they slid closed; Will pressed himself against Hannibal and wrapped his arms around Hannibal's neck. Hannibal melted into the kiss, allowed himself to become completely and utterly possessed by the man in his arms. His hands dropped to grip Will's hips and he thrust himself forward, unable- or unwilling, rather- to contain himself when he had his Will, his everything, so close.

Will groaned and the kiss deepened until their tongues touched; briefly, slickly, each chasing the other until Will drew away for breath. He hummed again and pressed his face into Hannibal's neck. 'Take me home, Hannibal,' he said.

Hannibal smiled. 'Your wish is my command.'

Will wrapped an arm around Hannibal's waist and led him out of the Piazza, the two just another couple, another set of tourists, in The Floating City.

{oOo}

Six months later Hannibal Lecter's book was published. Starling woke up to a package sitting on her desk, and when she opened it she saw Lecter's face on the cover, Graham's on the back. She glared at it for a beat before flipping it open.

For Clarice, it read a few pages in. Thank you.

Starling almost put her knife through the book. Instead she placed it back in the package and tossed it out.

Halfway across the world, in a small house in Venice, Hannibal Lecter was looking at the same book. He smiled when he saw the words he had told his agent to write; the man was good, had published the book at Hannibal's insistence despite Hannibal being a fugitive once more. Not that the agent had needed much persuading; Hannibal Lecter's name was worth money once more.

Will laughed when he saw Starling's name, but when his eyes found Hannibal's there was a heat to them that had more to do with their early morning and less to do with Hannibal's games.

Hannibal caught his gaze and closed the book, pushed it aside. It would fall off of the desk later, during another bout of passion. It would remain there until Hannibal could place it on the shelf later, never to be read or looked at again.

Clarice Starling would only be remembered briefly, an amusing story to be passed between Hannibal and Will through the years.

Starling had fulfilled her purpose; they would never see her again.

Fin.

Author's Note: And that is all she wrote. I simply could not leave this story as a one-shot after the overwhelming support I received for the first chapter. Thank you for all of your reviews and subscriptions, and for reading the insane things my mind comes up with.

Also, I might be adding more stories to this 'verse eventually; mostly just one-shots and drabbles. If I do so I'll keep them all together in one story to make it easier to read.

Cheers,

IBegToDreamAndDiffer