WITHIN THE ROOMS OF APPLEDORE

Two of the most dangerous men living on the planet were sitting within the same room. Two of the most dangerous men living on the planet had a deep set loathing for one another. Two of the most dangerous men were brothers, of course. Although they did not share a last name, they shared similar blood in their veins and DNA within every cell of their body.

Charles Augustus Magnussen made his home in England. While his home was rather secluded, he spent a large amount of time interacting with other people. Very few of these people he interacted with enjoyed their time with him, but he always had fun with it all. He had a job of his own, but his true calling was something less than legal. But he'd never get in trouble for it, that was for sure.

His brother, younger to him by several years, lived in America most of the time. His name was Hannibal Lecter, and likewise he spent quite a bit of his time interacting with others. As a matter of fact, this was his job. He was a psychiatrist, burdened with the task of figuring out pother people's minds. Then again, he had an affinity for something less than legal as well.

Just like his brother, he was fairly sure that he'd never get in trouble for any of it either. Both men were too cunning to allow their deeds to end up getting them into any sort of tangle. Sometimes it was a matter of covering up the evidence. Other times it was a matter of always having the right card to play.

It was most likely a good thing that Charles' home was so distant from most other civilisation. It was the perfect distance away so that any feud that would occur between the brothers wouldn't have to be broadcast to the rest of the world. Despite having a job in the news industry, the Magnussen appreciated keeping an amount of privacy in his life - especially concerning Hannibal.

But just because Charles wanted to keep his business with Hannibal out of the media didn't mean he didn't enjoy it. There was a reason he wished to to stay secret. Even if anyone were to find out, chances are nothing would end up getting out. Everyone had their pressure point, and he took note of each and every one.

There was so much that the two of them had in common - they knew how to manipulate others ruthlessly. They could do so much horror without even blinking at it. But it was their differences that made them hate each other. In a basic form, they saw each other as their own opposite. However, this was more complicated than just dark and light.

While family love is one of the strongest things to be found on this planet, family hate is at least twice as strong. The epitome of this relationship was found with the Magnussen brothers, even though it wasn't fully obvious on the surface. It was the subtext, the strain underneath every word that showed their loathing for one another.

At the moment, the two were doing their best to avoid any sort of major conflict. Smaller conflicts, however, were fair ground. Simply, it was something that could not be helped when it came to the two of them interacting with one another.

"Ah, having a little brother is one of the most underrated things on Earth," Charles said, sighing happily. Hannibal could easily see the falsity in his smiles and laughter, but he tried not to let it bother him. Years of his life had been spent watching the pasted on curves on his lips. He was supposed to be used to it by this point - but it remained one of the few things he found unnerving.

"I feel compelled to ask what your other most underrated things are," Hannibal replied, attempting to stay polite without revealing his strong dislike of his subject and his brother. It was his way to twist around his words so that his true intentions were veiled just enough to be hidden. To him it was an art, and he was nothing less than an artisan.

"I should clarify - it's just as much having a little brother as it is being the older brother," Charles said. "I know it's hard for you to understand, but it's the truth."

"I never doubted you for a moment," Hannibal replied. "I suppose I wouldn't really know what it felt like to have a younger brother, although sometimes it would be nice to imagine."

Hannibal had imagined having another sibling, a different person who he might actually care for rather than the despicable Charles. He could see himself having a younger sibling who would look up to him and follow him in whatever he did. There were times in the past when he had utulised others as partners for whatever he felt like doing. But it had never ended well for him.

But if he were to have family working along with him, then perhaps it would have been a more successful partnership than all the others. There would be so much more to it because of the blood bond they would share. Hannibal felt that at one point he had been close to achieving such a union. However, Charles knew just the same as him that in the end it had failed.

Now that he was done with his fantasising, Hannibal was able to get himself back to the true matters at hand. His brother's words ran through his head, and he couldn't help but be perplexed over them. It was disturbingly close to affection, but at the same time there was something strange about it.

"What brought your idea of the joys of having a younger brother up in your mind?" Hannibal inquired. "I'm sure such a thought didn't come unprovoked."

"Just a little marker that I stumbled upon," Charles replied.

"Then I must ask...are you referring to the Method of Loci?"

"Of course I'm referring to the Method of Loci," scoffed Charles. "I don't see what else I could possibly referring to."

"I'm sorry that I offended you by not being sure," Hannibal replied. His hand clenched around the arm of his chair. But he tried to relax himself by going into his own thoughts momentarily. Something didn't quite add up in his mind - and it was the same sort of situation as before. "You brought up the Method of Loci...why?" he asked. He wasn't expecting an answer. He didn't get one.

"The Method of Loci, one of the best inventions known to man. Shame that you clog yours up with all of those recipes. You could very well just make a book out of it, Hannibal," Charles said, allowing his eyes to flutter shut.

"It's not a waste using it on recipes," Hannibal protested. "In fact, I would beg to differ. It is not a waste at all - it is just a different use of space. I still have plenty of other things to use the Method for."

"Oh, do you?" Charles replied. "I'd like you to tell me about that."

"I work as a psychiatrist. I find it particularly helpful to store information about my various patients."

"As well as your various victims and crimes you choose to copy."

"I don't simply choose to copy things," Hannibal sighed. "You'll find that I can be very creative if I choose to be."

Charles took in a deep breath, allowing his eyes to shut for a brief moment. "You've already killed here in England, haven't you? I can smell it on you."

"I wouldn't always trust your sense of smell," Hannibal replied. "You'll find that mine is far superior regardless of the situation."

"What a wonderful talent to share with others - being better than your brother at smelling things."

"You'll find that being able to use your sense of smell is actually quite effective at accomplishing many things."

"Such as choosing your next meal," Charles said, reclining in his seat. "I'm sure you must find those who smell better far more interesting than those who don't."

"Please correct me if I am wrong, but it sounds like you're trying to insinuate that I choose those who I kill based on their smell."

"More or less," Charles admitted as he crossed his legs. "I mean, I assume that has something to do with why you came after me."

Hannibal dropped his head. Charles had just brought up one of the many things that he had over his little brother.

"I've still got scars from that one time you attacked me. Then bruises from the other time...and burns from yet another. I wouldn't be surprised if I found a few bite marks here and there, either...you're absolutely vicious, brother."

"I don't see why it's necessary to bring any of that up," Hannibal replied, raising his nose into the air.

"I'm worried that such an attack might come up all over again," Charles said. "I've noted that it's sort of a yearly thing...and that it always seems to happen on your yearly visit. Which would be, well, right at this moment."

"No need to worry, Charles," Hannibal said. "Unless you provoke me, I won't attack you in any way."

Charles rolled his eyes slightly, displeased with this response. "Oh, brother, it's so hard to tell whether I am provoking you or not! You and your obsession with manners. You certainly weren't raised on them, so I don't know where they came from."

"Does it matter?" Hannibal replied, raising his eyebrows. "I don't think where my so-called 'obsession with manners' is relevant at the current time."

"Because it always seems to end up being the line that leads you to attacking me, of course," Charles stated. "I don't understand why you always choose to attack me, either! We are brothers, after all."

"I'd hardly call us that," Hannibal said. "We don't even share the same last name."

"Your name might be different now, but you're still a Magnussen," Charles said. "You always try to deny it, brother."

"If anyone's not acting like a Magnussen, it's you," Hannibal replied, his voice completely calm. "It's like you have no honour left."

"Says the man who goes around murdering others for fun."

"First of all, it's not for fun," Hannibal clarified, grimacing slightly. "Fun is far from the correct word for what I do."

"Would you care to explain to me what it does feel like, then? You do have a psychiatrist. Just pretend I'm your psychiatrist." But before Hannibal could even blink, Charles was recieving a text on his mobile. He plucked it out of his suit pocket and ran his eyes over it.

"Ah, I love having quick and reliable sources," Charles exclaimed, staring at his phone happily. "Now, it's just a matter of memorising this information and I'll have a new file ready."

"I suppose you just recieved news of a new way you could blackmail someone," Hannibal said. "Who is it today, if you don't mind my asking?"

"You," Charles said, looking up from his phone in order to stare his brother right in the eyes.

Hannibal was very surprised - but he tried to avoid letting this show. Shock was related to weakness, and weakness in front of his brother was one of his least favorite things. He wasn't going to give in so quickly.

"What do you mean, brother?" Hannibal asked. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean by your new way to blackmail me."

"Just another thing to add to a very, very, very long list of pressure points for you. Maybe I'll use it. Maybe I won't. We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

"I would appreciate it if you would please explain to me what is going on."

Charles only sighed as he looked over to his little brother. "I wish you didn't try so hard to pretend and be something that you're not."

"What do you mean?" Hannibal asked. "I'm afraid you're going to have to clarify."

"All I want to do is see you break that stuffy facade of yours, just once. I'm sure you're capable of it. But even when you go off to attack someone, you still manage to keep it up. One might even think that you might actually be so stuffy through and through. But I know better."

"You see me once a year," Hannibal replied. "I mean no offense, but I believe you can hardly know much about me from those sparse communications."

"I keep an eye on my younger brother," Charles said. "I have my ways, of course."

"I still find it difficult to believe that you can glean a full and accurate image of me from what little you know."

"To think that you're blaming me of not knowing my own kin!" Charles exclaimed, feigning offense. "I know you better than you give me credit for!"

"But not in the ways that two brothers would typically know one another, I believe," Hannibal replied. "There's a difference between brotherly affection and attempting to find every weakness that the other has."

"So that's how you think of me," Charles said.

"Yes," Hannibal. "I am only stating the facts, but yes. I cannot lie."

"I just don't know why I'm still breathing at this moment," Charles laughed. "You'd think I would have been killed years ago. Oh, yes, that's right..." he continued, as if he were remembering something important. "I was supposed to be dead. You tried to kill me with your bare hands!"

"You wonder how you are provoking me and then you say such things as this," Hannibal said, his hands hands clenching into fists.

"But with how many people you've managed to kill, you'd think that I would be easy. Perhaps it's because you don't want to hit a boy with glasses - that does seem rather rude, you know."

Hannibal knew that Charles would continue taunting him until the end of the universe and most likely even beyond. He taunted everyone that he had a pressure point on, so it was only fitting that he teased his younger brother most of all. At the end of the day, he was little more than a bully.

Hannibal closed his eyes, trying to think through how much longer he had to spend here at Appledore. He had to remind himself that he didn't really have much a choice in this matter - whatever his older brother wanted, he had to go with.

There were many downfalls to being the younger brother to the most prominent blackmailer in Europe, and Hannibal felt that his yearly trip had to be the worst of them all. Most people would just think of it as irritating, having to see family despite not wanting to.

But this was different - Hannibal wasn't just annoyed by Charles. He was infuriated. Practically every word that fell from his brother's lips made him feel sick to his stomach. He considered himself someone with a particularly strong stomach as well - it was necessary for his irregular diet, after all.

He wanted to kill Charles with every fibre in his body. There was nothing else to it - he just wanted his older brother dead and sitting under the ground where no one else would have to listen to him.

Hannibal could be called a serial killer, and he had been labeled as such in the past - just not his name and face in particular. One would think that murdering his brother would be easy for him. The problem was that it was far more complicated than that.

That's why he couldn't afford to have any amount of weakness that could be exploited against him. It would always be kept secret, but he was desperate as anyone else to keep those under wraps. Charles was far from the only one who could use his secrets against him.

"You were speaking about a new pressure point, as you call it..." Hannibal began. He felt a need to know about what his weaknesses were. There was a reason that despite being a psychiatrist he had one of his own back in America. He didn't just need to dig into the minds of others, he had to know his own better than anyone else.

"Yes, yes I was," Charles said. He knew that Hannibal was trying to extract information from him and therefore decided he could just mess around with him and close up. It wouldn't be fun if he just gave it all away without a care, of course.

"I was wondering if you might divulge some of this information for me," Hannibal asked.

"I can't just give away information from my files, not even to my own brother. It simply would destroy the confidentiality of the matter. As you can see, I can't do such a thing."

"I understand where you're coming from," Hannibal replied. "I am a psychiatrist, after all. I must keep details that my patients have given me secret. But I think you must find this to be different than our current situation."

"Of course it's different than our current situation!" Charles exclaimed. "All situations are different. You can't keep using that as an excuse, Hannibal. Time and time again - it doesn't apply to this situation, this situation's different!"

"Perhaps I am biased, but I feel that I do not always use it as excuse," Hannibal replied, clearing is throat.

"How badly do you want to find out what I just found out?" Charles asked.

"How badly? You would not have need for such information."

"Maybe I'm curious. Maybe I want to consider being nice to my little brother."

"I would very much appreciate knowing what you know," Hannibal admitted.

"Well then...if I were to tell you, you have to do something for me first," Charles said. "This is how blackmail works, after all - I just don't see how you didn't see it coming."

"What is it that I must do?" Hannibal asked, inwardly dreading the answer. His brother was correct - this was how blackmail worked, and he couldn't help but go along with it. The saddest thing about it in his opinion was the fact that he had to be blackmailed in order to figure out what he could potentially be blackmailed for.

However, Hannibal would much rather go through finding at the moment than have it suddenly launched on him. He didn't want to find out by being blackmailed. That was precisely the result he was aiming to avoid.

"What is it that you must do, you ask?" Charles said. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He couldn't help but be excessively amused by the situation. He never would have expectd that he could find somethng to use against Hannibal out of nowhere. Then again, most of the pressure points he had experience with were very unexpected.

That was the real fun of it, really. Knowing everyone's deepest and darkest secrets (or in may cases, secrets) was fulfilling enough by itself. But of course, if Charles Augustus Magnussen could find more, then he would certainly find it. Blackmailing came hand in hand with that. He could experiment with how he manipulated people, what he did and what he had on others.

"That is precisely what I am asking, Charles," Hannibal replied. "I would very much appreciate you sharing the information with me so that I may do what you please." He despised the way his words made him sound like he was some kind of servant to his older brother.

"You stay here. Just a few days longer. You've been doing a fine job finding yourself food already, I'm sure you can feed yourself for about a week more."

"You want me to stay here?" Hannibal asked, legitimately surprised by this.

Charles just simply smirked over towards his younger brother rather than explaining it any further. His motives for this had to be obvious, he was sure of it. Surely Hannibal must have figured it out - or perhaps he was being excessively dull. Somehow he couldn't rule that out.

"It's like you wanted to stay and just didn't have the gall to admit it!" said Charles. "Maybe that's why I want you to stay. I'm trying to help you out and have you do what you secretly want."

"Fine," Hannibal said. "I'll stay for several more days. It will take a fair amount of work to iron out the wrinkles, but that is a task I am willing to fulfill."

"Good, very good," Charles said, as if praising an obedient puppy.

"Now, your side of the bargain," Hannibal said. "You explain to me what this new weakness is."

"Will Graham has developed a pressure point of his own - not that he wasn't already teeming with them," Charles explained, sighing happily. "But now he's just got more. Yes, I forgot to mention - he's got more than one new one. Very sloppy of him, really."

A/N Maybe it's just me, but I love the interactions between Hannibal and Charles. While some see them as a crime-causing duo, I think that Charles would tease his younger brother quite a bit...as you see here. They kind of became self aware during the writing of this chapter. Also, the title of this chapter is the scrapped original title of this story - more of it was going to be focused on the Magnussen brothers before, and then I decided to make it more about Will, Sherlock, John, and Mary. And Molly. She always counts.