FOUND: A Hannigram Devil AU

26

Being called into Jack Crawford's office was always a nerve-wracking experience, no matter who you were. Jack was unpredictable, friendly one moment and stern the next at the flip of a switch. When he beckoned Will in the next day, Will's stomach flipped with anxiety.
"So." Jack sat down, gesturing for Will to do the same. "I just wanted to give you some forensic updates. Let you know about the DNA."
Will suppressed a sigh of relief and sat across from him. He was proud of the way he'd handled himself the previous morning— he'd analyzed the scene in the cabin with no problems. It was honestly a much tamer scene than what he'd come across in his dreams.
Both he and Jack agreed (surprisingly) that whoever the Shrike was, he was getting desperate. Unhinged. The reason why was where their opinions diverged: Will had suspected that it had to do with Abigail. Murdering his golden ticket had taken a much larger toll on Hobbs than he thought it would. Jack, however, said it had to do with the kidnapping, in which Hobbs was the victim. The disagreement had definitely caused a slight tension between the two.
Jack pulled out a few sheets of paper from a large folder, laying them out on the desk. "Okay, starting with the Shrike." He pointed to a picture. "You have to squint like hell, but there's some hairs there. We compared it with the DNA we took from Hobbs right when Abigail was attacked."
He paused, seemingly reluctant to tell Will the results. "And?" Will prompted, leaning forward.
"It's a match."
Will couldn't control the way his lips turned up. He'd been right; Hobbs was the Shrike.
"We're going to narrow the search to Hobbs," Jack said. "I've issued a warrant for his arrest. If anything, we've got him on refusal to cooperate with an investigation."
"So I was right. The letters were a plant."
"Hobbs's fingerprints were on the letter. Handwriting matched the vigil invitations this time. It's like he's asking to be caught at this point."
"He's gotten confident, Jack. He hoped you would believe the letters were real, and you did." Will reprimanded him with his eyes. "You fell right for it. You're lucky you even wanted to check for prints on the letter."
"Yeah, yeah, don't get a big head. You understand where I was coming from."
Technically, he didn't, but he nodded anyway.
If the validation from the Hobbs case was his good news of the day, it quickly came crashing to the ground. Devastatingly bad news hit when Jack flipped to the next sheet.
"Second thing— lessening your ego a bit. After you left, forensics was cleaning up Elliot Budish's barn. We found a set of clothing fibers that couldn't have belonged to Elliot, along with some skin cells. There was also an extra pair of fresh tire tracks that didn't match Elliot's car."
Jack was busy reading from the paper, so he luckily didn't notice all the color draining from Will's face. His body went cold with dread, jaw tightening.
That was his DNA. His clothes, his skin, the tracks from his car.
God, he was so careless. He couldn't have expected Hannibal to catch every thread of clothing, every skin cell; he'd warned Will about that himself. He shouldn't have ever gone over there. They were going to find out, and everything was going to fall apart. They'd realize that claiming Elliot's death as a suicide was all a plot to cover his ass, and they would hate him for it. Even if he miraculously escaped prison time, he'd never work again. Hannibal..he had no clue what Hannibal would do.
Will sat on his hands, trying to hide how utterly afraid he was. "Oh," he muttered.
"Yeah. Can't be right all the time." Jack gave him a triumphant smile, chalking his actions up to embarrassment. "We're gonna run things through once the lab goes through some cleaning. It's not all that urgent, since we don't know for sure if the person even had a role in his death. We just want to ask some questions."
He said that now, but if that DNA came back to Will, things would be a lot different. A lot more suspicious.
"I just..I still think it's a suicide, Jack." Will shrugged. "Are you really gonna try and keep track of every single person who went in and out of that barn?"
"I can hypothesize that Elliot wasn't a very social man. He wasn't having parties in there. Whoever went in there went in with a purpose."
Will stayed silent. He wasn't wrong.
"But..and this is the part you won't like." Jack gazed at him intently, his voice turning serious. "I don't want your contribution to either of these cases anymore."
Will jerked back, raising his brows. "I'm sorry?"
"Will, things are wrapping up for both of them. Elliot's case sent you to the hospital, and the Shrike case is too personal for you." Pity flashed across Jack's face. "You did a good job yesterday, but I know how painful it must be—"
"No. Jack." Will stood, putting his hands on the desk. "I'm not a child. I don't need someone to babysit me and make sure I don't have a tantrum." He tried to tamper down his irritation. "Have I honestly gotten over what happened to my sister? No. I haven't. But I can handle myself enough."

His outburst was really rooted in fear; he had to be apart of Elliot's case now. While before he'd wanted to run far away from it, getting close was now the only way to make sure he wasn't under any scrutiny. He had to tread lightly, but it still made sense to tread.

And the Shrike...he had to catch the Shrike.

"Will, I don't want to break you, and I've come pretty damn close." Jack's voice grew harder to match Will's. "And you did have a tantrum! You've had two! Once in the motel room, and once before you met Doctor Lecter. That's the reason I called him in!"
"Stop. Don't think of me like that." Will clenched his teeth. "You don't have anyone who does this better than me. No one can do this better unbroken than I do broken." He heard his voice crack on the last word, and he cleared his throat to cover it.
"You'll still be on other cases. Just not these two."
Will shook his head; that wasn't the point. He wanted to be on the Shrike case because it was personal. He wanted to be on Elliot's case because he wanted to know how afraid he should be. He didn't want to be sidelined while the adults talked.
"Will, your work is cherished here at the FBI. We need you, and I'm not going to claim otherwise. But right now? On these two cases? We don't need you."
"This isn't fair, Jack. I give you all this vital information, and now you're throwing me out?"
"I'm not throwing you out. This is your job that you get paid to do. We simply don't need your help on the Shrike case. We don't need your help with Elliot. That's the end of the story." Jack stood with finality. "Thank you, Will."
"You're right, Jack. This case is personal." Will leaned closer, blood beginning to simmer. "I couldn't help catch the man who killed my sister, but I can help catch this man. And I hope you're happy, taking that justice away from me."
"This is unwarranted—"
"For someone who claims to need me so much, you sure don't listen to me." He smiled bitterly. "Why do you think I had that first 'tantrum', as you called it? I told you that I didn't think I could do it, but you pushed me anyway. You never care about what I have to say. It's always about you." He finally stepped back, wanting to get out of this room as soon as possible. "Push someone, and they're bound to fall eventually. In one way or another."
With that said, he turned and left the office.