The Ripper's Love

It's Quite Rude...

You feel a warmth in your chest, but also an ache of homesickness. Ever since you moved away to be a profiler, seeing (y/b/f) wasn't all that easy, especially with her running her own shop back home. 

She had been there for you since the very beginning. From the time that you met her, you two were inseparable, and seemed to be connected at the hip and mind. She helped you through the times with your mom, the mental issues, and everything else that happened, and you had tried to do the same for her.

You: Thx babe, I miss you. I'll text you more, and send memes

(Y/b/f): I'm headed to sleep, call to wake me if you need ANYTHING

You: K

You look at the time on your phone, huffing a sigh when it read 3:41. You put your phone on the bedside table, pulling your covers over you, and drift off into a fitful sleep.

(Time skip brought to you by that Glitter and Gold Hannigram edit)

You wake up shivering, sweat on your brow and the images of your mom still flashing in your mind. You look over, reading the time, and groan as you get up. You turn on the shower, putting your music on shuffle to play whatever.

You strip down and step in, focusing on the music to try and stop your spinning thoughts. 

You let the hot water wash over you, the beat to (y/f/s) bumping loudly in your ears. You sing softly, mind already calming down.

When you get out of the bathroom, hair still wrapped in a towel, you get a text on your phone.

Jack: Did you finish your profile? Will and Hannibal are down at the station for the autopsy of the body and it might be a good time to turn it in.

You sigh, pausing your music.

You: Sure, I'm on my way.

You grab your keys, running your fingers through your hair one last time before you head out the door. 

(Short time skip brought to you by Covid-20)

You jump out of your car, locking it as you walk towards the front of the BAU, snow lightly dusting the ground. You pass groups of trainees, a team in uniform, and people in suits walking about. You smile, hope rising in your gut. 

You had yet to qualify for the academy, but you held on to the hope that you would one day be a FBI profiler, and work with the best of the best.

You open the doors to the lab, passing the medical equipment as you walk towards the crowd of people.

"Someone want to fill me in on what I missed?" You walk up to the table the body was on, ignoring how close you were to Hannibal. Jack looks over to you, nodding his head in recognition.

"Just the official autopsy report. The initial thoughts were correct," Will said, eyes on the edge of the table, avoiding eye contact.

You nod, eyes on the face of the man. Even after what you had admitted to Hannibal, seeing someone like this was gruesome and made your stomach roil. The empty eyes, the pale skin, the blood drained lips were all a bit to much for you.

"Jack, my profile?" You look turn around, partially to get your eyes off the body, and partially to convey you were expecting to give your profile now.

"Ah, yes. We can go to my office, if you would feel more, comfortable with that," Jack said, turning and walking out of the cold room. 

You followed, still avoiding eye contact with Hannibal and Will.

You felt Hannibal's stare digging into your neck, and you knew Will was right beside him.

You walk into Jack's office, nodding to thank Jack for holding the door open. You take a seat in front of Jack's desk, trying to keep a neutral expression and relaxed posture.

Jack just stands behind his desk, Will and Hannibal walking in as you settle into your seat. 

Hannibal takes the seat, Will standing in between the chairs. 

"After looking over the evidence and the autopsy, I concluded that the killer was a white male in his twenties or thirties, who was middle or upper middle class. The killer is clearly obsessed with criminology, and is either working in criminology, or is a avid reader and partaker in criminology discussions and sites. He is clearly obsessed with the Chesapeake Ripper, and knows him personally. They feed off each other, and are either romantically involved, or The Maiden is in love with The Ripper. The Maiden knows The Ripper."

You sit back in your seat, crossing your arms as you wait for Jack to say something.

Jack stands, seeming to let the information sink in. After what feels like an eternity, he nods, looking over at Will. 

"Your profile only differs in the idea of how the Maiden knows the Ripper. Since both of you seem set in your belief that your profile is correct, I'll have a third party decide," he says, locking eyes with Hannibal.

You curse yourself mentally, trying not to give away your frustration in your body language. Of course Hannibal was going to be the deciding party, and he would choose his partner's theory.

"From my own personal assessment of the murder, my profile agrees with (y/n)'s." You look over with raised eyebrows before you can stop yourself, surprised.

"Good. So the profile is made, and we'll get it out to the police in the area and the The Ripper's Maiden's team. Unless someone else has something to discuss with me, you all are dismissed."

You blink twice, and nod, turning back to Jack and smiling as you get up from the chair.

You push open the door, hoping to get out of the area before Hannibal or Will approach you.

But as you are walking down the hallway, your luck runs out. You see Hannibal with Will at his side beside you, keeping your swift pace without lag.

You huff slightly, stopping to turn to them. "Hi Doctor Lector, Will," you say, trying to keep a happy tone in you voice.

"Hi (Y/n), I-" Hannibal stutters slightly, catching you completely off guard. His behavior was very different

"I wanted to apologize for what I said during our last session, I didn't notice that it triggered you until it was to late, and what I said was out of line and clearly hurt you. I'm sorry," he says, and you notice Will's hand brushing Hannibal's.

You question why he would apologize in your head, but never the less smile and accept. You put on a mask, saying that it was fine, and that the murders did get to you a little, but you were coping fine now.

You smile, saying that you really need to get going, and turn to start walking again. 

"(y/n) I can tell when someone is putting on a mask to hide something, and it's quite rude to do so," Hannibal says, and what he says sends a shiver down your back.

"I can assure you Dr. Lector, my being honest would be much more rude," you snap back, pivoting on your heel and walking out the door.