FOUND: A Hannigram Devil AU

9

The candlelight vigil for Abigail Hobbs was held at her home in Minnesota, attracting a decent crowd of former classmates and family members. Her father led the event along with her aunt, and the two of them made rounds talking to the guests. Will noticed pure sorrow in both of their faces, nodding somberly as they spoke.
It wasn't until they were on the plane that Will was told they were technically not invited. Jack wanted them to show up unannounced, so no stories could be rehearsed or expressions suppressed. Will had groaned at the thought of walking into a candlelight vigil uninvited, interrogating a mourning crowd, and he hadn't missed the disgust on Hannibal's face either. They were being very rude, which Will had figured out was Hannibal's most hated thing.
"I'm gonna try to be as respectful as possible," Will told him as they walked towards the house. "I don't think it's fair to them, either."
"There's already going to be an officer there for safety purposes," Hannibal said. "Jack told us. You seemed like you were wandering when he said that."
Will raised his eyebrows. He had been completely absorbed in something else— he didn't remember Jack saying that at all. "..Yeah. Sorry. I guess that makes us look a little better."
"A little."
The crowd had gathered in the front yard, milling about around a table filled with pity casseroles. There was a plastic bag on the ground filled with cheap electric candles, which, judging by the house, was all they could afford. Will patted his pockets: phone, badge, pistol. The pistol was carried without Jack's knowledge; he always brought one for extra measure. Hannibal was the only one who was aware.
"Will. I know that man."
Will's head snapped up, following Hannibal's gaze to a ginger-haired man standing at the edge of the crowd. His hands were stuffed in his pockets. Will blinked in surprise.
"Holy shit. That's Nicholas Boyle." Will pulled out his phone and texted the update to Jack. "What would he be doing here?"
"Supporting fellow victims, I suppose." Hannibal squinted. "I wouldn't fully trust him yet, though."
"Definitely not. He doesn't like cops, either— keep that in mind."
"He's not my priority. I'm going to speak to the aunt. Abigail may have been more willing to share information about boyfriends with her."
"I'll get the father."
The two nodded at each other and took off in their own separate directions. Will approached Abigail's father, trying to put confidence in his step.
"Mr. Hobbs?" He held up his badge with his left hand and stuck out his right. "My name is Will Graham, and I'm with the FBI. We're very sorry for your loss."
"Oh, thank you." Hobbs shook his hand. "Garrett Jacob Hobbs. It's just..it's been so hard. My wife died a few years ago, and she was all I had.." He shook his head, eyes glistening. "She meant a lot to me."
"I understand completely. I just wanted to clarify a few things with you about Abigail. Shouldn't take long."
He looked hesitant. "..I suppose that's fine."
"Did Abigail have any boyfriends that you knew of? Any male classmates? Someone who may have developed some kind of obsession with her."
He thought. "No, nothing really. She wasn't interested in dating, and she was friends with girls. She did work at the lure shop a couple miles down the road, but I've known Bill for decades. He wouldn't have done anything to her."
Will stored that info in the back of his mind. "Did Abigail seem off that day? Anything that may have tuned you into some danger?"
"She wasn't acting strangely. She was completely fine with running an errand for me." Hobbs pressed his lips into a firm line. "How have you all not figured this out yet?"
"We're honestly working as hard as we can to wrap our heads around this case. We're approaching ten girls being killed, and it's hard to pinpoint what's going on. He keeps slipping from our fingers."
"Well, maybe if you'd stop asking me questions, you could spend your time finding him. I have an alibi. Ask my work—"
Will held his hands up. "Mr. Hobbs, this is by no means an interrogation. We just wanted to gather more information."
"And I'm wanting to mourn my daughter." Before Will could answer, Hobbs spun on his heel and walked away. He made his way over to Hannibal, grabbing Abigail's aunt by the arm and dragging her away. Will caught up, watching Hannibal's jaw twitch with annoyance.
"She's innocent," he said, watching them walk away. "I could tell."
Will wanted to respond, give some kind of sarcastic quip, but something stopped him. Hannibal had been nothing but right this entire time. He knew more about that woman than she knew about herself, and they hadn't even spoken for five minutes. Will had no doubt about that.
A woman Will didn't know approached them and wordlessly handed them candles. The two made their way over to the rest of the crowd, which was gathering into a circle. They could at least be courteous; after all, they'd come all this way.
"We appreciate each one of you coming today," Abigail's aunt announced, stepping forward. "We wish Abigail could be here to see how many people cared about her."
"My daughter meant so much to all of us." Hobbs placed a hand on his chest. "She loved all of you, and she was loved by you. She spent every day with a smile on her face, because she knew she was so adored. We'll miss her every day."
"If anyone has anything they'd like to say about Abigail, we'd love to hear it."
There was a moment of silence, followed by someone clearing their throat. Nicholas Boyle stepped forward, clutching a candle. Will's breath hitched.
"You all may not know me," he said, "but my name is Nick Boyle. My sister, Cassie...she was killed by the same monster who killed your daughter." He turned to Hobbs. The crowd had a quiet gasp of surprise. "I'm here to pay my respects, but also because I understand your pain. I'm here for all of you. We'll find this monster."
He surveyed the crowd, then he nodded. "Thank you."
There was a polite murmuring of thanks, followed by a sniffle from someone in the crowd. Abigail's aunt shook her head in grief.
"Thank you. Let us pray."
The crowd bowed their heads, with Hannibal and Will being the only exceptions. Will couldn't explain it out loud, but knowing that the Devil Himself was standing right by him was enough to make him afraid to pray. He felt as if God would simply scoff and turn His back, while Hannibal would laugh.
He didn't listen to the prayer; he was too busy watching Hannibal. He scanned the crowd, a chilling smirk on his face. It was an expression full of mocking, like a child watching ants scurry around. Will visibly shuddered, which made the smile wider.
..give our child peace in Heaven, and protect her from all temptations of Evil.
The flapping of wings echoed in Will's ears, and he knew he was the only one to hear it.
..and by the Grace of the Lord our God..
A cold breeze ruffled his hair, and he was the only one to feel it.
..her soul will flourish.
Hannibal spread his wings, grinning, and Will was the only one to see it.
All those things vanished the moment the crowd opened their eyes.