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Call placed from a landline, approximated in Duluth, MN, March 29, 2013, at 10:32 PM
Recipient: This is Jack Crawford.
Caller: [whispering— their voice echoes,
possibly due to a bad connection] ..Jack?
Recipient: Will? Will, is that you? Where the hell have you been? We've been trying to reach you for hours—
Caller: Minnesota. I killed him, Jack. I killed Hobbs. [begins to sob] I didn't mean to. I didn't want to.
Recipient: Will, what are you doing in
Minnesota? You need to come home now.
We have to talk to you.
Caller: I stabbed him to death.
Recipient: Will—
Caller: I called the police. The Minnesota police. They're gonna find him. They're gonna find me. I can't do this, Jack!
Recipient: Okay, I need you to stay wherever you are. We can fix this. We just need to talk. Are you feeling well?
Caller: No. No, I can't fix this. I can't do this anymore.
Recipient: Of course you can. I promise, you won't be in any trouble.
Caller: You're just saying that. I'm scared.
Recipient: Please come home, Will. We're
worried about you.
Caller: I've got nothing waiting for me at home. Nothing!
Recipient: Your dogs, Will? Doctor Lecter? Me and Bev?
Caller: They don't care about me. No one does. You don't either!
Recipient: Of course I do. I've been worried—
Caller: I've done something horrible. I have to..I don't want to do this anymore. I hate myself.
Recipient: What are you saying?
Caller: Take care of my dogs. I'm done. I'm done being here. Goodbye, Jack.
Recipient: Are you going to— Will? Will? Don't do anything stupid. [silence] Will Hey! Where'd you go? Will!
[Call terminated at 10:34 PM]
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Call placed from the cell phone of Hannibal Lecter, March 29, 2013, 10:36 PM
Caller: Jack. It's Hannibal. Did you just get a call from Will?
Recipient: Yeah. Yeah, I did. He's all the way in Minnesota. He said some things that really scared me. I've got people on the way to where the call was tracked, but I don't—
Caller: So he told you about Hobbs?
Recipient: Yeah. I think I'm gonna have to go up there myself. This'll probably turn into something much worse. I'm worried about him. He won't answer the calls I place back.
Caller: I've completely failed him. He told me he was going to kill himself. I can't..what if he's already gone?
Recipient: I don't know. He's— shit, that's from the Minnesota cops. I have to go.
[Call terminated at 10:38 PM]
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Police report summary #28756
March 29, 2013
     Shortly after radio reports from Quantico, Virginia, Duluth police officers were dispatched to a cabin near the Web Woods forest. They were told of a man in his late thirties, brown and blue, driving a Volvo station wagon. He was said to be a danger to himself, but not to others.
     On the way to the cabin, an officer spotted a running vehicle pulled over on the Lake Superior bridge. It appeared to be the vehicle in question— upon investigating the interior, officers found the registration was listed under a Will Graham. The man himself was nowhere to be found.
     Will Graham has been reported as a missing person, and the surrounding areas will be combed for evidence.
     -Sheriff Deputy Mark Holland
—————————————————————
     It wasn't hard for the two to get where they wanted to go. They'd covered their tracks, Will's car resting on the bridge over Lake Superior. The last place anyone would expect him to be was Baltimore, and now they had all the time they wanted. Everyone was distracted— the world was theirs and theirs alone.
     Lucifer held him close and let his massive wings enfold them both, shrouding them in darkness.
In the blink of an eye, the bridge and the rain and the rushing water were all gone. Will found himself in Hannibal's kitchen, still being held. The two of them smiled at each other.
"I need to teach you something," Hannibal said, squeezing his hand. "It'll be useful later. Close your eyes."
Will reluctantly obeyed, scared to have anything else major happen. He'd had enough surprises for one night. "Okay?"
"Imagine your human body, Will. It's yours— I'm sure you know it well. Imagine yourself becoming human again. Your skin, your weight, how it feels to breathe and to have a heart beating underneath your ribs."
Hannibal's voice was relaxing, and Will listened carefully to the words he said. He pictured himself mere hours before, fear running through his veins as he attacked Garrett Jacob Hobbs. Walking through the forest with the cold metal of a gun on his lower back. Throat hoarse from screaming. Pain in his shoulder from raising the knife over and over and over—
Will felt a large weight suddenly fall on top of him, and he stumbled forward into Hannibal's arms. He gulped in a large amount of air, lightheaded from the sudden lurch into reality. He opened his eyes; both he and Hannibal were back to normal, with the exception of Will's wings. His wings. Will had wings that belonged to him. He felt a shiver of delight at that, but it was quickly replaced by embarrassment: he was still shirtless, his ruined button down left in his car. His face was cut and painful.
"I don't like this as much anymore," he admitted. He'd felt so graceful before, like he could do whatever he wanted and leave no trace. Light and free and feathery.
Hannibal nodded in agreement. "It's always hard to go back once you've felt that way. Sad to see it go." He reached for Will, gently swiping Hobbs's blood off of his cheek with his thumb. Will noticed the blood on his hands, his clothes. It had been so easy to forget before, but now that he was back in his body it was glaringly obvious.
He frowned. "I'm a mess. Jesus.."
"That's my next step. Come with me." They took their muddy shoes off and left them in the corner. Hannibal led Will along, taking him into a brilliant master bathroom. A large vanity with marble countertops and illuminated mirrors stood across from a wide glass shower and white bathtub, each surface covered in various products and styling tools. The tile was white and pristine. It was well-lit, but not too bright or revealing. More cozy.
Hannibal slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and as he let it fall to the floor his wings emerged. They looked so strong, so voluminous, nothing like the underused ones that stuck out of Will's shoulders. This was probably their first breath of fresh air in eons. He watched Hannibal unfasten his pants and followed along, blushing when Hannibal didn't object. This was happening. This was going to happen.
Neither of them looked down. It was an unspoken agreement that neither of them were interested in anything sexual— sex had always made Will feel uncomfortable and dirty, and Hannibal was more drawn to other forms of intimacy: touching, kissing, running hands along skin. Why look down at only one part when there were so many more things to look at?
Hannibal turned on the shower and opened the glass door. They both climbed in, warm water cascading over them. It was such a relief for Will's freezing skin, rainwater and blood sliding off him and swirling down the drain. He rubbed his arms, washing off the traces of Hobbs's blood. His face stung as water entered the cut, and he winced.
     "I'll clean that up when we're done, Angel."Hannibal gently took him by the arms and spun him around. Will felt strong hands on his shoulders.
     "I never got to repay you for the night in my bed," Hannibal said, his voice low in Will's ear. "Let me do that now."
     "What are you—" Will jolted as Hannibal moved his hands down to Will's wings. He touched the base of them, right where they sprouted from his shoulder blades, and massaged the tender skin. It was instant pleasure; Will froze for a moment before his entire upper body went limp. He leaned against Hannibal as Hannibal slowly moved upwards, stroking the feathers little by little and removing any traces of dirt. His thumbs moved in small circles. Will felt hazy, blood buzzing in his ears as he turned to putty.
     "Oh, Hannibal," Will breathed, letting his eyes flutter closed. "I get why you like this so much."
     Hannibal laughed, causing Will's heart to palpitate in his chest. His touch was pure euphoria, like he was scratching an itch that had festered for years. Will became hyper aware of his wings; they were weak, but they contained small strands of muscle at the bottom. He could move them, flap them, but the feeling didn't extend all the way up. Once Hannibal reached the tips, Will hardly sensed it anymore. But the feeling of his hands on the base, mending the knots and loosening the muscle, was ecstasy.
     He was left reeling when Hannibal was done. He straightened his body back up, wordlessly turning back around and reaching for Hannibal's shoulders.
     Hannibal hummed, a soft smile on his face. "Hold on," he said softly, reaching around Will for a small bottle of shampoo. He rubbed it on his hands and pulled Will towards him, kneading his fingers through Will's curly hair while Will stroked his wings. The shower filled with the smell of rain and pine needles. He could hardly focus on how soft Hannibal's wings felt— he was too focused on the hypnotizing movement of his hands on his scalp. A small moan escaped his lips, almost unnoticeable— but not quite, as Hannibal planted a kiss on his forehead.
     "My angel." His voice was musical, singsong. Another kiss. "Sweet, sweet angel. My soul." Another. He wrapped his arms around Will's waist, pulling him under the stream of water. Suds ran down his face and onto his chest. Will giggled.
Will was in Heaven. Never in his life had he felt safe or happy with where he was. He'd never let his poor muscles relax, never gave his body a chance to rest. Anxiety haunted him, leaving him exhausted even if he lay around all day. Now, after getting back his tranquility, even a hint of calm was addicting. It was a sedative going directly into his bloodstream, soothing his whole body. His mind continuously called out for more, more, more. More touch, more kisses, more words to make him finally feel loved.
He slung his arms around Hannibal's neck, burying his face into his shoulder. Hannibal smelled like the earth, smoke and rain and herbs. He was a gentle forest.
"Are you okay?"
"Don't let me get lost again." He shut his eyes and leaned in. "Please."
Hannibal rubbed the base of his wings again, and Will nearly saw stars. He bit his lip, feeling warmth blossom in his stomach.
"Never." Hannibal kissed him on the lips. "Never. I promise."
The shower forgotten, the two of them kissed, leaning against the tile wall and pressing their bodies against each other. They let their hips grind together and their bare chests touch. Will's face felt hot with excitement, and he began to fade into a vision. For a moment, behind his eyelids, he saw another world: a world that was bright and quiet, his feet touching the soft clouds and his wings spread. Creatures like him roamed in every direction, busy working on something important. Their wings were black and white and all different shades of grey.
He blinked, and suddenly he was surrounded by a dark sky full of stars. The angels were gone. Someone was touching him. He looked up and there was Lucifer, his hand on Tranquility's face. His lips tingled from a kiss that had just ended, and amazement danced in Lucifer's eyes. He opened his mouth and—
"Will?"
He opened his eyes, the vision swirling into nothingness. He'd pulled away from the kiss at some point, his lips parted slightly as he leaned his forehead against Hannibal's. Hannibal watched him, concerned.
"I saw it. I saw Heaven," Will gasped. He gazed into Hannibal's eyes, feeling comfort rather than fear. "I saw us. We kissed."
Hannibal watched him intently, hope in his expression. He reached over and turned off the shower. The bathroom was stunningly silent without the running water.
"I'll start a fire," he said. "We should talk."

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