WRATH: A Hannigram Fanfiction

3- Le Sommeil

That same evening, the night before Will flew out to Minnesota, Hannibal decided to visit him.
It wasn't a hard thing to do. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the image of Will in his mind, who would likely be close to home by now. He imagined Will's anxious body language, the inside of his car, the way he probably kept the AC on high blast, draining the gas from his car...
And there. He was in the passenger seat, watching it unfold in front of him. Will was pulling into his driveway, and Hannibal followed him out of the car. He was Will's shadow, invisible unless you knew exactly where to look.
A cacophony of dogs barked as Will exited the car. He ran up to the front door and threw it open, and a sea of dogs rushed out to greet him. Hannibal could hardly count them; he lost count after six, but there had to be more than that. They jumped on Will and wagged their tails, and Will doubled over with a large grin on his face. It was the first time, Hannibal realized, that he had ever seen Will smile. It was a lovely one, brightening his whole face.
Will waited calmly outside while the dogs did their business, and then they all crowded around him as they went back inside. Will filled their bowls with an exorbitant amount of food, changed their water, and then shut himself inside the bathroom while the dogs feasted. Hannibal watched them. They were clean, well cared for, and obviously happy. He wondered if this was Will's only joy.
Will emerged wearing a white shirt and boxers. He tossed his armful of clothes onto a nearby chair that was already overflowing with laundry, then bypassed his bedroom and went into the kitchen, four dogs clamoring around his feet as he rummaged through the cabinets and then the fridge. He took out a shot glass and a large bottle of whiskey, pouring himself a serving before downing it like he was a parched man in the desert. Staring down at the counter, he sighed and pressed his palms into his eyes.
Hannibal watched all of this with intrigue. This was the loneliest sight he had ever seen: after a long day at the office, where Will was friendless and isolated, he then had no one to come home to. He was continuously by himself, and Hannibal knew that no matter how much he told himself he was fine, he wasn't. Will wanted company. Will wanted warmth.
It was cold in the house, just the way they both liked it-- but now, it felt sad.
Another swig of whiskey before Will reluctantly put the bottle away. In his bedroom, he sank down onto his bed, more of a mattress on a flimsy frame than anything, and let the dogs climb up to cuddle with him. He held on tightly to one of them, letting it lick his face (which Hannibal found revolting, but he let it slide). Once he fell asleep, he tossed and turned with a furrowed brow.
"Stop," he whispered. The dog next to him perked up one ear. "Stop, please. Leave me alone."
Hannibal took a step closer. Will grunted. "Stop. Stop!" He brought a hand up to his throat and kicked out at some invisible attacker. A long whine escaped his throat.
He had to stop this. Hannibal gently lay a hand upon Will's head, which was warm and damp. Calm down, Angel, he thought. Sleep.
Almost instantly, Will settled, his face relaxing. Hannibal took that as his cue to leave.
——————————————————————-
"I dreamt about her last night. The new girl. Cassie."
On Thursday, Will hunched over Hannibal's desk with large black circles under his eyes. He had entered the office with the file again, but before Hannibal could interrupt his tangent, Will had looked him in the eyes and offered him a position on the Minnesota Shrike case. Jack wanted some extra help, he said, and this way they could openly discuss the case with insider info. Hannibal had immediately accepted; anything to get closer to Will.
     Cassie Boyle had been found dead, impaled in the middle of the desert. She was thought to be the tenth victim of the Minnesota Shrike.
"Her alone?" Hannibal asked. "Or with the other girls?" He couldn't say for sure who Will was dreaming about on Tuesday night, but he knew that the addition of another ghost couldn't be good for him.
"She joined the circle. 'He found me, he found me'...Jesus."
"It's an interesting choice of words. Implies that their killer was actively seeking them out, rather than stumbling upon them by chance. Implies that they tried to hide."
Will's body twitched. Hannibal took notice, yet said nothing; he could see in Will's face that the words sparked something in him, a memory he didn't want to face. Will's body was constantly turning against him, trying to let his soul out in the only ways it knew how.
"Katie— Cassie. God. Cassie had her lungs removed." Will's face flushed. "Impaled on antlers."
Hannibal hid his curiosity. Will wasn't the type to scramble the names like that, and there was no one on the victim list with a name close to Katie. The girls were too present in Will's life for him to mix up their names. He stored the information for later.
"We can assume he ate the lungs."
"Mhm."
"They haven't found any of the other eight girls?"
"They're laying dead somewhere. We just don't know where." There was no hope of any of them being found alive, which Hannibal was relieved to hear. At least Will wasn't delusional.
"It's extremely interesting to me." Hannibal thought. "This killer, out of some obsession or love for some golden ticket, kills girls who look just like her. All the while his dream is to kill her. But why?"
"Like you said, obsession. Desire for connection. He just can't do it to her."
"I'm hoping that means we have more time. But why display her like this?"
"That, I can't figure out," Will admitted. "If he'd done this to the other girls, we surely would have found them by now. And the organs were removed at a different time from Elise's. Do you think he was in a rush? Couldn't hide it in time?"
"Have you considered the possibility of another killer?"
Will turned his head, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Perhaps this is some sort of copycat. Not aware enough to know when to remove the organs, but aware enough to know his victim type. The Shrike has a method; he knows how to hide his victims. This..this is something different."
Will's eyes went round. "Hannibal, holy shit," he blurted, turning back to the case files. He skimmed until he found what he was looking for. "Cassie's lungs were removed while she was alive. Elise was cut open after she was dead. The Shrike hides the bodies— maybe eating more of them than we realize. It's almost an act of honor, not disgracing the bodies."
"And this," Hannibal pointed to one of the crime scene photos of Cassie. "This is a desecration." This was something Hannibal himself would do, not a killer who supposedly loves his victims.
"The Shrike's victims are everything to him. This girl was nothing. Less than that." Will glanced up into Hannibal's eyes. "We have two killers."
The eyes distracted him. "..And they couldn't be more different," he said absently.
"I gotta call Jack." Will fumbled for his phone, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the ringing to stop. He put the phone on speaker so both of them could hear.
"Will," Jack answered. "I was just about to call you—"
"Jack! There's two killers. The Shrike didn't kill Cassie Boyle." Hannibal could see the excitement in Will's face.
"What? You— Will, you need to get over to Unity now. Maybe you can tell me which killer did this."
"Wait, the hospital? Did what?" Will swallowed hard, throat bobbing.
"The Shrike acted out sooner than you thought. We found another girl. She fits the profile."
Will and Hannibal shared a worried glance. Hannibal opened his mouth, but Jack started up again before he could speak.
"She's alive," Jack said. "She's alive, and you need to get over here now."
The phone beeped with the dial tone. Disgust roiled through Hannibal before he realized that it wasn't Jack who had hung up-- it was Will. Will dropped the phone, and it landed face-up on the floor. He was breathing heavily. Quickly. His eyes dulled until they weren't their usual blue anymore. They were almost grey, leached of color and life.
"Shit. I have to go. I have to.." Will fumbled in his pocket for his keys, which jingled in his shaking hands. He dropped those as well and let out a strangled sound, like he was going to scream or cry or groan or something of the sort.
"Will." Hannibal planted his hands on Will's shoulders, grounding him. "You're in no state to drive. Let me take you to the hospital. We'll come get your car later."
Will, lost in himself, nodded. His gaze was foggy. Hannibal bent down, picked up Will's luckily undamaged phone and keys, and placed them in Will's hand. He ushered the two of them out the door and drove through the city as fast as he could.
"Why?" Will murmured at one point, staring out the window. "Why is this happening? It's not fair. It's just not fair."
Hannibal shook his head in agreement. "No," he replied. "No, it's really not."
None of this was.