FOUND: A Hannigram Devil AU

6

The next few days blended together, a viscous mess of hospital treatments and skipping meals and just sitting, waiting, for something to happen. Will refused to leave the room often— he wanted to be right there when the girl woke up. Hannibal stayed with him, claiming that he wanted to support both her and Will. Some hours they spent talking, but most of the time, both of them just gazed down in silence at the unknown girl.
She hadn't shown any sign of recovery. Jack was getting impatient, which Will could tell from the small sigh that Jack gave every time he saw Will in the room again.
One evening, three days after the attack, Will opened his eyes to find Hannibal reentering the room. He held two styrofoam cups.
"Hey," Will said, voice thick with sleep. He had taken to napping on the room's couch, which hadn't provided much comfort. It was more like unconsciousness than restful sleep. He felt worse than he did before. "Thanks."
"Figured you'd want a boost," Hannibal replied, setting one of the cups down on the table next to the couch. "Fair warning, though: it's the worst coffee I've ever had in my life."
Will smirked. "I have lower standards than you." He took a sip, and his face involuntarily scrunched up at its acidic taste. "Oh, wow, that's awful."
Hannibal laughed, a melodic sound that made Will's mouth quirk up. He got the feeling that Hannibal didn't laugh often. For a moment, the two of them smiled, the severity of the situation forgotten. Will's muscles ached from his odd position on the couch.
"Visiting hours are almost over, Will." Hannibal returned his gaze to the girl. He stood protectively over her bed. "They're going to release her face soon. Try to identify her."
Will understood what this meant; Jack didn't think that she'd ever be able to identify herself. "..She's going to die, isn't she?"
Hannibal remained silent, pondering. After a long while, "I don't know."
"She doesn't look good. She..God. She looks just like Katie." It felt good to say her name out loud, to finally share the secret with somebody else. He felt less alone that way.
"Thank you again for sharing your past with me," Hannibal replied. "It must be a weight off your shoulders."
Will leaned back against the pillows, his limbs feeling like lead weights. "It really is."
"You've trusted me with a great secret, Will." He turned his head slightly, giving him a side eye. It was an ominous look, not far from the dreadful one Will remembered from the day they met. "Can I trust you with one of mine?"
     Will straightened his posture. The casual air in the room had been sucked out. "..Yeah. Yeah, of course."
     "I know so much more than you think I do."
     At that very moment, the steady beeping of the girl's heart monitor came to an abrupt stop. She hadn't flatlined; the green lines had simply frozen in place, halting in the middle of a spike. Will was startled by the sudden silence. Hannibal seemed unfazed.
     "..Hannibal?"
     "I need you to stay calm."
     "Why? What are you doing?" Will looked out the large window of the room— it had been a relatively windy day, but all of the leaves had come to a standstill. Nothing was moving, not the clouds nor the grass nor the branches. Will felt a rush of dread. 
     "What.."
     When he turned his head back, he jolted; Hannibal was staring directly at him, seeming much taller than before. In fact, he was taller, as his head was now much closer to the ceiling. Will watched with utter shock and horror as, slowly, black antlers began to sprout from Hannibal's scalp. They twisted and creaked as they grew. He heard a ruffling of feathers, and with a shift of Hannibal's shoulders there was suddenly a large pair of midnight wings, smooth and oily like the wings of a raven. His skin began to drain of color, becoming white like bone, and he emitted a ghostly aura that resembled dense fog.
     It was a creature of contradiction, one of darkness beside pure, infinite light. It was breathtakingly beautiful— something to be seen in religious scripture, replicated in marble next to the other angels and Gods in the halls of a palace.
     Will couldn't take his eyes off of it. He felt the blood rushing in his ears, and his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. He scrambled backward, throwing himself off of the couch and cowering in the corner of the room. He wanted so badly to scream, but something had taken hold of his throat, and he was too choked up to even let out a whimper. The temperature of the room had significantly dropped.
     "Hello, Will." The creature's voice was musical, ringing across the room with multiple timbres and pitches. Will couldn't pinpoint one specific voice in the mixture.
He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. He'd been so exhausted the past few days— there was no way this was real. His head suddenly began to pound.
"Not a dream," Hannibal said, taking a step closer. Oh, God— he knew what Will was thinking. "This is my secret. This is what I wanted you to know."
     "Oh my god, oh my god.." Will finally found the air to speak. "You..you're an angel."
     He paused, perplexed, but then he smirked. "Oh, no. I'm not an angel. Not anymore. I got cast out of that role long ago."
     "Wait." Will's stomach dropped. His teeth chattered with the cold and the terror. "You're not? Then.."
Then why are you so beautiful? Will gulped.
     "I am the Devil."
     There was a vice gripping Will's lungs, an invisible corset getting tighter and tighter until he was sure he was going to suffocate. He let himself slide to the floor, raking his fingers through his hair. "No. No, no, no, no. Please, please don't hurt me." He tilted his head upwards. "No, don't hurt her. If it's got to be one of us, I want it to be me. I'll do anything."
     "Stand up and come closer, Will. I don't wish to hurt you."
     Will wanted to refuse, as he felt safer the farther away he was, but his body moved of its own volition. As he neared closer, he began to realize how often this had happened— how many times Hannibal had requested something and, without much thought, Will had acted along with the reflex to follow, to obey. The air got more biting as he approached, and it became harder to breathe. He felt like he was reaching the summit of a mountain, the air thin and frozen in his lungs.
     Hannibal looked different this way. His face was smooth and young. His skin was like marble, a magnificent statue. He peered down at Will with an intrigued glint in his eye.
     "What are you going to do to me?"
     Hannibal shook his head. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just want to talk to you. To suggest something that I believe would benefit us both."
     "What do you mean?"
     "A deal, if you will. An agreement between friends."
     Will took a step back, adamantly shaking his head. "No. No! I know better than to make a deal with.." He trailed off. He couldn't say it.
     "Listen to me. You haven't even heard what I have to say." Will was now enveloped in the fog, his skin turning pale and the hairs on his arms rising. It was so, so cold. "It can't hurt to listen, can it?"
"I can't make a deal with you. I don't..I don't want to go to Hell."
Hannibal scoffed. "You won't. I will swear on my power right now— you won't go to Hell just for making one little deal." His eyes narrowed. "It's breaking it that could put you in danger. But you wouldn't do that, would you?"
Will looked back and forth between Hannibal and the girl in the bed, who was lying still. Her face was sunken. "What do you want with me?"
"I want to help you." His face was kindly, a tenderness in his gaze. "I want to give you what you yearn for most."
"There's a lot that I want, and I don't think you can give me any of them."
"But I can. You are haunted. Tortured by girls you can't save. But I will make them go away, Will."
Will felt his heart skip. As much as he hated to admit it, he was interested. "How?"
"It doesn't matter how. It will hurt initially, but then you won't notice a thing." He smiled softly, taking Will's hand in his and running his thumb along it. His touch was so cold it stung. "I'll take them away, and you'll finally be alone."
     "What's the catch? What do I have to give you?"
     "I don't want much, since my end of the deal takes very little effort, but..I simply ask for your time. Your  cooperation. Your silence." He squeezed Will's hand. "You're going to learn some things about me very quickly, Will, and it is crucial that you keep them to yourself. There will be secrets that only we share."
     "Why are you doing this?" Will shivered. "Why do you want me, of all people?"
     "I feel I saw it when I looked into your eyes. There is something blossoming inside of you. Something absolutely incredible." Hannibal's eyes gleamed. "I am desperate to see you bloom. If we continue your therapy, you will."
     "What do you see?"
     "Someone who has embraced every part of themselves. Someone who doesn't tremble in the face of adversity."
     Will had so many questions crowding his mind, and he wanted to collapse onto the floor and curl himself up for warmth. For some reason, there was only one question he was really itching to ask. "..Am I happy?"
     Hannibal's forehead creased, eyes softening. "Yes. More so than you've ever been."
     The words sent Will into a spiral of thoughts. He wanted so desperately to feel that way, to have his worries go away without any effort. He wanted quiet. Everything Hannibal offered— he needed it. It was a need that had nestled itself deep in his bones, unchanging ever since that night his sister was killed.
     "And all I have to do is stay quiet?"
     "And cooperate with your therapy, yes. But we shouldn't have problems there. After all, that's how you're going to get the most fulfillment."
     "I..I don't know. I can't." Will stepped back, his teeth chattering, leaning against the girl's bed. "This is too much. I don't even know if this is real!" His eyes stung.
     "Will. This is very real. But, even if it wasn't, what would it matter?" Hannibal tilted his head slightly. Will's eyes were drawn to the thick antlers. "I can give you everything you've ever wanted. Finally, you can lay your weary head down and sleep."
     Hot tears were now streaming down Will's cheeks. They burned his frozen skin, and he wiped them away before they could turn into icicles. He gripped the bedsheets tightly. It seemed like so little to give up for such a wonderful reward.
"How long has it been since you've had a restful night?"
"Thirty years."
     "Your memories of Katie won't torture you anymore." Hannibal's voice was closer now, echoing in his head. "Don't you want that, Will?"
     "Yes!" Will cried out, startling both of them. He choked back a sob. "More than anything. Please." He turned his head away, closing his eyes, and hesitantly held out a shaky hand. "Please."
     He felt the icy skin of Hannibal's hand envelop his.
"This will hurt."
Before Will could react, he felt a terrible ringing in his ears. His body somehow got even colder, and his head began to throb with unbearable pain. It penetrated his skull, reaching into his brain, and he doubled over in pain. He heard screaming, the same cries that had invaded his dreams for decades.
Through all of this, he kept a tight hold on Hannibal's hand— he was gripping Will's hand with an inhuman tightness, leaving him unable to let go. Will called out in pain.
Then there was a blinding flash of light and a rush of freezing wind—
And a high-pitched tone suddenly startled him out of his state. He opened his eyes to find himself still laying on the couch, the sun shining orange through the window of the hospital room. He was drenched in sweat.
The girl's heat monitor had flatlined.
Will shot up into a sitting position, gasping at the sight of Hannibal sitting where he had been before, right next to the bed. He was completely normal, no sign of the creature that Will had come across before. He turned to look at Will with a true panic in his eyes, standing up and rushing out to get a doctor.
Will stumbled over to the bed, holding onto the frame. She was gone. She was all of the evidence they had, and she was gone. She'd been mercilessly slaughtered like some kind of animal. Nausea churned in his stomach.
She would definitely haunt his dreams tonight, because Will knew that his encounter was just a dream. The fear in Hannibal's eyes proved it. Never mind the residual pain in his head— he always dealt with migraines.
Hannibal returned with multiple nurses, who busied themselves with the girl's equipment. They ignored the two men, too frenzied to even tell them to leave. They watched in silence, heads bowed.
"She's gone."
Hannibal wrapped his arm around Will, squeezing his shoulder. Will gasped; Hannibal's touch was so cold that it sank through his clothes, past his skin, and into the muscle. Will shuddered.
Hannibal leaned his head down, his mouth close to Will's ear. "You made the right choice," he whispered. His voice was the same as before, a jarring sound to hear in the real world. It was too ethereal to belong on Earth.
The color drained from Will's face. His jaw clenched.
The young girl was pronounced dead as the two of them stood there, a dark shadow towering over a mere man.