FOUND: A Hannigram Devil AU

21

Using the GPS coordinates found in the file, Will and Hannibal began the hour long drive to Elliott Budish's barn. It wasn't far from the motel in Wolf Trap, and if there was one thing that town was known for, it was country roads. It was one of the reasons Will loved living there, as he got as much privacy as he wanted, but in the dark it was much more threatening. They were completely and utterly alone, driving along a thin road with no light to guide them through the night.
The close proximity between the motel and the barn made Will think that the Cleveland murder had been a mistake. Budish had traveled too far— he was too sick, and the trip must have made him realize that it was easier to keep all his angels in one place. Cleveland was an outlier.
"Budish is a truck driver," Hannibal commented as he flipped through the file once more. "Perhaps he was on the job and just couldn't handle himself."
"Another relapse, maybe? Got sick from traveling, created another angel to keep him safe?"
"He can't distinguish between reality and illusion. Logically, traveling a long distance without a break would have made his illness worse. But he doesn't see it that way; he thinks that he's gone too far from his angels. He needed a shield." Hannibal nodded to himself. "Classic paranoid schizophrenic."
"What are we about to walk into? Be honest."
"Possibly an empty barn."
"If he's there," Will replied, exasperated. "What happens if he's there?"
"Based on your reaction in the motel room," Hannibal glanced over at him, "he's not going to like me that much."
"Shit. Yeah. Maybe you need to stay outside." Will nearly laughed to himself. He was talking to the Devil. Telling the ruler of Hell to wait outside while the grown-ups talked.
"I'll watch what's going on. You'll need backup, but I don't want to overwhelm him. Risk him snapping."
"I don't have a weapon." Will felt the blood drain from his face. "Nicholas Boyle used my pistol to 'shoot himself'. Should I have bought another gun?"
"I don't know if he'll be armed or not. He might be less threatened by you if you're not armed. Just be calm and try to get on his good side."
"I'm going to get murdered." He gripped the steering wheel tight.
"Not on my watch, Will. He draws a weapon, and I'll have us out of here as soon as I can." Hannibal sounded sure of himself. "We don't even know if he's going to be here."
About fifteen minutes later, as they reached the dirt road leading up to the barn, they were both surprised by the sight of another car parked outside.
"He's here." Will's heart stopped. "He's here."
"Good. It means this wasn't a worthless drive." Hannibal looked at him reassuringly. "You go in, I'll get closer once he's distracted by the conversation. You need help, yell for me."
Will nodded wordlessly and got out of the car, ignoring the way his legs shook. He approached the large barn door, which was halfway open. A faint light spilled out from the crack.
Will still lifted his hand to knock. "Mr. Elliot Budish?" He called out, trying to sound more confident than he actually was. "Are you in there?"
After a nerve wracking pause, the door creaked open a minuscule amount. A nervous, scarred face peeked out from behind. "Hello?"
"Mr. Budish." Will considered pulling out his badge, but then decided against it. "My name is Will Graham—"
Elliot was too busy staring at him, eyes wide with fear. His face was pale and puckered with worn over scar tissue. He stepped back, pushing the door open more. "Come in," he whispered, eyes darting. "There's something you need to know." He gestured wildly for Will to enter.
Will hesitantly followed him in. The only light inside came from a lantern in the middle of the floor. The floor of the barn was covered in layers of hay, and there was a bucket of water, piles of canned food, and a cot in the back. Of course— Elliot would have been arrested by now if he was at a registered address. He was living here, at least for the time being. It was the only place he felt safe.
Elliot put his hands on Will's shoulders. His eyes were wild, pupils dilated. He focused on a spot over Will's shoulder, not looking him in the face. It was a breath of fresh air for Will. "You're going to think I'm crazy," he said.
"I won't. I promise." Will decided to play along. Besides, nothing was crazy to him anymore.
"I can see inside of you. I see how haunted you are. You've..you have committed a terrible sin."
Will twitched slightly, cursing his nervous tics. "I..I know," he replied, thinking quickly. He wanted Elliot to trust him, to turn his back long enough for him to get out the cuffs. "That's why I need your help."
"Of course. Of course." Elliot nodded, pity crossing over him. "You've done a wonderful thing, coming to me. I can help you." He didn't ask any questions: how did Will find him, how did Will know who he was, all of that was thrown away. Elliot was focused on his delusion and nothing else; the poor man was probably elated to have someone go along with it. "I can cleanse you."
"I just want someone to fix me." The words came easily, for they weren't entirely untrue. "I want to know I'm safe. I saw what you did to those other people, and—"
"You've seen my angels?"
"Yes." Will nodded, still aware of Elliot's hands on him. "They were saved."
"No one else understands! They're much better off than they were before!" His voice rose quickly.
"I understand. They're very lucky people." Will's mouth moved without him even having to think. "I want to be an angel, Elliot."
"You poor soul. I can help you. I can—" Elliot finally looked him in the eyes for the first time since he'd entered the barn. He froze, squinting as he scrutinized Will.
"What's wrong?" Will asked, keeping his voice remarkably steady.
"You..no." Elliot quickly moved away. "You have to go. Please."
"Wait, no, did I do something wrong?" Will knitted his brows and stepped forward. Elliot held his hands out in front of him.
"Stay away! Please. You have to go."
"Please tell me what's wrong." He was getting somewhere. He was doing so well, and now his chance was running away. "Please?"
"There's something in your brain," Elliot said. "I just saw it. Something dark. Dark and bad. Evil." He kept moving backwards, towards his cot. "I can't risk it. You've got something in there."
"What happened to me? Can I fix it?" He told himself that his desperation came from wanting to arrest Elliot. He didn't actually want to be an angel. He didn't actually want Elliot's help. Elliot's offer definitely wasn't a blessing. Right?