FOUND: A Hannigram Devil AU

25

     Finally back his bed, surrounded by dogs, Will had another dream. It played out like the last time, a movie scene in his brain that he couldn't alter. All he could do was watch.
     He saw a basement, cold air blasting through the vents. The rooms were dark and metallic, and the many dividers and glass walls made the space seem endless. A wet, squelching sound came from behind a curtain.
   A tall figure was hunched over something on a metal platform. He turned to set down a tool, revealing Hannibal's familiar face. The thing on the table was a body, a man Will didn't recognize, his eyes glazed over and lifeless.
     Hannibal was mutilating the corpse. He had torn open the man's midsection from sternum to below the navel, and he was ripping out the organs with his hands. Stomach and liver and entrails were smeared along the metal table, resembling raw meat. Every time Hannibal dipped his gloved hand in, Will heard the sloshing of organs against each other. He was grateful that he couldn't smell anything.
     He knew those organs were going in Hannibal's fridge. He didn't care.
     Hannibal was focused, unlikely to be shaken from his task. Will felt the same way, sedated under the haze that dreams often bring. There was nothing he could do— he was watching something from far away, floating as an invisible spectator. That lack of control should have been horrifying, but it was a comfort to have no responsibility. He couldn't have stopped Hannibal, anyway.
     He remembered his dream about Hannibal as a boy, right before he was killed and possessed. This must be another scene through the Devil's eyes, broadcasting into his brain. He and Hannibal were nearly conjoined now, their eyes witnessing the same things. It was impossible for one of them to do something without the other knowing about it.
     It was only a matter of time before Will began to think like him. In fact, he already was thinking like him. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

This wasn't disgusting, it was captivating. Interesting.
Hannibal pulled out a pink lung that pulsated in his hands. Blood dribbled between his fingers and stained the blue gloves crimson.
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     Another victim of the Minnesota Shrike was found the next week.
     "He's left another letter," Jack told him as they perused the outside of the cabin. This cabin belonged to the victim, slaughtered when she was staying alone. "Says he still has Hobbs, and if we're not quick enough he'll kill him."
     "Jack, if you really still believe that Garrett Jacob Hobbs is the victim here, then I can't help you. You won't believe anything I say."
     Will had installed a doggy door over the weekend, since he hadn't been home much. He was heavy eyed and desperately in need of a break. He wanted his bed. His home. Endless sleep.
     "Jack!" Beverly stepped outside, calling to the both of them. "We found DNA."
     That was enough to temporarily perk Will up. "You did?"
     "We're gonna run it through the lab ASAP. Hair and clothing fibers that don't match the girl— he's getting messy."
     "That, or it could be a plant." Will narrowed his eyes. "If that DNA doesn't belong to Hobbs, then I would be wary."
     "Or you just really want to be right." Jack frowned.
     "Jack, you're the head of the Behavioral Science Unit," Will snapped. "Why don't you come up with your own answers if you don't like mine? Something that's not completely ignorant, maybe?"
     There was silence, in which Will was forced to wallow in encroaching anxiety. Beverly watched in shock. What the hell had he just said? He could imagine the look on Jack's face— he didn't even have to see it.
     "I did not hear that," Jack finally replied, his voice loud and angry. "Did I?"

Yes, you did, you bumbling idiot. You only care about what I have to say when it goes along with what you think.
     "No," Will murmured. "No, you didn't."
     "Good." Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose. "And I hope to God you're not talking to Doctor Lecter like that. For your sake."
     Will felt an uneasiness in his stomach as he thought of the previous night's dream. "What's that supposed to mean?"
     "Doctor Lecter is a patient man, but he can't stand discourtesy." Jack shook his head. "I've seen him ruin men's careers over a bit of rudeness. Judging by the stuff he exposed, they deserved it anyway, but.." He shrugged. "Their behavior was the catalyst."
     "Damn." Will stared at the ground, deep in thought.
     Elliot had been discourteous. He wondered if the man in his dream had been, too. He would have to ask.
     Maybe that was the reason Hannibal killed. It made sense— humans were already below him anyway, in his eyes. Maybe they were just..swine. Ingredients for a dish.

Then again, Will hadn't been the epitome of politeness in his time with Hannibal. Perhaps it was a shield that came with their deal, or perhaps it was something connected to the tender, loving way he touched Will's skin.
"Speak of the Devil," Jack suddenly said, making Will look up. Hannibal was exiting his car, making his way towards them. Will shrunk under his gaze.
     "Why exactly did you want us here?" Will asked.
     "Because it's your job."
     "But you know enough about the killer." And you don't want to listen to me.
     "This scene is different from the others. I want to know why he's getting messy. Where he's going next."
There was that word again. "Messy?"
     "You'll see when you get in there. And now the DNA." He gestured to Beverly, focused on her camera. "I think he's getting cocky."
     "Morning, Will." Hannibal gave both of them a smile. "Jack."
     Will nodded awkwardly in greeting. "Morning. Let's go," he said. "I want you in there with me this time."
     The two began to walk, and Will waited until they were out of earshot to begin talking. "You killed someone last night," he said between his teeth.
     Hannibal smirked. "Where did this come from?"
     "I had a dream about it. Did you cause that?"
     "No, not this time."
     "You ripped out all his organs. You're going to eat them."
     "I don't have to confirm or deny it. You seem rather convinced already."
     "Did you or did you not kill someone last night?" Will demanded.
     "Exploiting my honesty, are you?" The two of them stopped in front of the cabin's door. "Yes. I did. Does that bother you?"
     "..What bothers me is that it doesn't bother me. If that makes sense." He chewed on his lip.
     "It makes perfect sense."
     "I knew what was happening, and I just stood by. Didn't care. I'm starting to see things the way you see them, and that scares me."
     "There's nothing to be afraid of, Will." He put his hand on Will's forearm. Will was reminded of his warm touch, the velvet feeling of his wings. "Isn't it nice to let it go? Focus on other things? This is a good thing."
     Will twitched. He knew he was falling, letting Hannibal mold him into something new. Someone that didn't let death faze him. That could sleep peacefully despite the blood on his hands.

He was sinking. Trying so hard to fight his way back up to the surface of quicksand, every movement only making things worse. It was going to encompass him either way, and he could let it happen easily or slowly, painless or painful.

Sometimes it was easier to just sink.