WRATH: A Hannigram Fanfiction

20- Le Matin

Slowly but surely, Will was climbing the treacherous cliff side. The ocean roared underneath him, slapping up against the rock and occasionally hitting him with its droplets. Lucifer could see him better now— he was about halfway up, and Lucifer caught a glimpse of how exhausted he was. There were black circles under his sleepy eyes, and his legs quivered as he reached a ledge in the middle of the wall. It was a good place to rest, Lucifer thought, and he told Will just that.
"I..I want to.." Will trailed off, sinking to his knees on the ledge.
"You're getting there, Will. You'll be up here eventually." Lucifer lay on his stomach at the edge of the cliff face, as close to Will as he could possibly get. "Please rest."
The moon was so bright. Will stared at it for a moment before laying his body down.
"Don't leave."
"Never. I promise."
Will slept.
—————————————————————-
Hannibal didn't get a very good night's sleep. Between the dream and the excitement from the previous evening, he'd been too euphoric to relax himself. Throughout the night, he would wake up and find himself unable to take his eyes off of Will. He studied the man's every feature, cementing everything in his mind so he could commit it to paper. A nice drawing of Will. He would put it somewhere special.
He wouldn't need a drawing soon, though. The thought made him giddy.
Will, on the other hand, appeared to have slept very well. He was the quietest sleeper Hannibal had ever come across— no snores or murmurs. He was completely still, as well, apart from one moment in the night when he'd nuzzled up to Hannibal's chest, sighing contentedly. Hannibal had nearly melted on the spot.
Morning crept up on them, and soon Will was opening those beautiful blue eyes, long lashes fluttering. He was dazed, out of place. When he turned his head, the sight of Hannibal seemed to startle him, and an expression of clear shame broke out on his face. His cheeks were bright red.
Hannibal reached over to stroke his hair, and a small sound of pleasure leaked from Will's lips. Hannibal smiled.
"We don't have to talk about this," he promised Will. "As far as I'm concerned, this never happened."
"I'm so sorry," Will whispered, voice quivering. "I just—"
"No need. We'll move forward from here." For one final taste, he leaned in to kiss Will's forehead. He couldn't pull away, letting his lips rest there for a while. He held back a sigh; this wasn't what Will wanted right now, and he wasn't going to force their relationship. He got out of bed and grabbed a button-down from the dresser. His wings needed to stretch.
Will didn't say anything as Hannibal left the room.
Hannibal never skimped when it came to coffee. The machine he used had cost nearly four figures, and he refused to use any sort of cheap imitation grounds. He frequently ordered shipments from other countries, and in his travels he always vowed to take some home with him. He selected a rich brand from his visit to Paris; Will would appreciate the dark aftertastes.
He spread his wings, letting them breathe the fresh air. They felt more flexible now after last night; Will had loosened the muscles up quite well. He let them stay out and at rest, hidden beneath the fabric of his unbuttoned shirt.
His phone began to buzz in his pocket, which confused him. No one ever called this early. He suppressed an eye roll when he saw that it was Jack calling.
"Have you heard anything from Will?"
I'm doing wonderfully, Jack, how are you? "I spoke to him last night," Hannibal replied, choosing his words carefully. "We're having a session this morning. Why?"
"I've been trying to reach him since yesterday afternoon. We've found the Angel Maker."
"Really?" He feigned surprise. "Has he been arrested?"
"We're going over today to arrest him. I want Will to be there to make sure the profile fits. Plus, he deserves to see the guy get put away."
"I'll tell him when he gets here. We'll probably come over together—"
"You do that. I'll send you the coordinates. Look, I gotta go." Jack clearly wasn't listening. "Time-sensitive stuff. We've got this guy by the skin of our teeth."
Jack hung up. Fool, Hannibal thought to himself as the coffee maker stopped its whirring. Your precious little agent can't stand you. And I spent last night with his skin in my teeth.
Eventually Will entered the kitchen wearing the clothes Hannibal had given him. He gripped the collar of the shirt with one hand, nodding too casually at him like he was trying to hide something.
     "How's your arm?"
     A nervous smile. "It doesn't hurt anymore."
     "Good. I believe they're going to Elliot's barn today," Hannibal told him, pouring him a cup of coffee. He remembered from the hospital that Will took it black. "At least that's what Jack said."
      Will took a sip and was transported. His eyes closed for a moment, and he licked his lips. While his hands were occupied, Hannibal gently reached over and pulled down the collar of the shirt, right where Will had been holding onto it. Under the white fabric, right on his collarbone, was a small circular bruise. Hannibal grinned, and even Will couldn't hold back a small chuckle.
     "I was going to lend you a jacket, anyway," Hannibal said, turning back to pour himself a cup. "No one will see it."
     But Will already wasn't listening. He'd seen the wings.
     "I hope you don't mind. When I'm home, I like to have them out. They get cramped otherwise."
   Will quickly shook his head. "No, no. Doesn't bother me."
     "It took me a while to get used to them. It became a habit to just..leave them out."
     "Get used to them? You didn't always have them?"
     "I've always had them. They just weren't always like this."
He couldn't exactly pinpoint why he'd revealed this information; things simply felt more intimate now. Will knew him too personally for him to be hiding such vital aspects of his past. Uncomfortable still, he opened up the fridge and examined the contents. "I'm fixing something."
     "Oh, I'm okay. I don't really eat in the mornings."
     Hannibal peeked out from behind the door to give him a teasing look, raising an eyebrow. Will flushed and turned away.
     "Well, I do. You're eating," Hannibal replied with finality. "I'll make a favorite of mine."
     "Thank you," Will muttered, but Hannibal was already distracted. He pulled out ingredients and utensils at a rapid pace and began to glide around the kitchen. Will took the hint and migrated to the other side of the breakfast bar.
     "If you don't mind me asking—"
     "What happened?" He cracked eggs one after the other, yolks falling perfectly into the bowl. He knew that Will would ask-- his curiosity would always prevail. He considered how much to reveal, realizing that he'd never told anyone the whole truth. He had the urge to now. "Are you aware of the River Styx?"
    "..Not really." He absently ran his hand over the bruise on his neck.
     "That's not the actual name of it. It's the name that you humans made up for it, named after the goddess Styx. She's not real, clearly." He simpered. "It's the river separating this world from Hell. You have to cross it to reach Hell. The water's thick and dark, like tar."
     Hannibal had always been fascinated by legend. In his experience, those who believed in multiple Gods were the most correct-- their ideas of elemental Gods were very similar to the premise of Angels. No human creation is without its flaws, however; the myths that early civilizations came up with never came close to the truth. The truth was an amalgamation of all different types of religions, which was something he didn't wish to get into this early in the morning.
     "Okay." Will leaned forward, chin in his hands.
     "When God banished me from Heaven, I obviously wasn't welcomed in Hell with open arms. Not when I spent so much time in a privileged paradise." He mixed the eggs in with fresh vegetables in a pan. "The souls were angry that we had created a wasteland for them to be thrown away. They bombarded me. Tackled me, held me under the water of the River until my body was numb."
     Let me go let me go let me go LET ME GO LET ME GO -- I will kill all of you! Are you not aware of who I am? It hurts. It's so cold. I've never been cold before.. please, God, help me. I didn't want this.
     "The water stained my wings. I stood in the freezing rain for hours, washing it all off, but it never left. They'll always be like this, I guess."
     Screaming in the background, all drowned out by Lucifer's own thoughts. The rain was colder than anything he'd ever experienced before. It was pure ice, piercing him. He viciously scrubbed away at his wings, pain shooting down his back, but not a single drop of ink came out. A different kind of water was flowing down his face, warm and salty-- he didn't know what it was. His vision was blurry and his eyes stung.
     "Shit, L— Hannibal. I'm sorry." Will fumbled over his real name, quickly correcting himself. Hannibal realized that if Will wanted to call him by his real name, he would let him.
     "Oh, I'm just fine." He forced a smile onto his face. "I rose up to become their ultimate punisher, so I think I'm the winner here. Losing my flight is a small price to pay."
     In the end, the sinners learned their lesson. After he emerged from the River, Lucifer turned to them with a glare that made them all freeze in place, their laughter and taunts halting. If he hated humans before, now this was loathing. A desire to see all of them suffer horribly. Luckily for him, Hell contained all of the tools he needed.
     His tormentors were drowning in the inky water of the Styx right about now. Grime would enter their lungs, they would feel every second of it, and their body would slowly give out as they painfully fainted. Right after, they would wake back up, only to fall back into the River and do it all over again.
     It wasn't long before Hannibal's breakfast was finished. He served up two plates and set one in front of Will, the two of them sitting at the breakfast bar. Will took a bite and his eyes widened. Hannibal loved serving him; he was always so impressed. He likely hadn't had a home-cooked meal in ages.
     "Wow. Thank you," he said, continuing to eat. "You said they're going to the barn?"
     "Yes. Jack just called me about it." Hannibal ate, too, albeit slower.
     "Right. He called you just now?"
     "Since he couldn't reach you. I told him that we only spoke briefly last night." Hannibal smirked. "He wants you there to see Elliot arrested, if you're up for it."
     "He doesn't actually care if I'm up for it. He'll always get his way." Another sip of coffee. "..So they'll find him. Elliot."
     "They will."
     "Should I be worried?"
     "I did my best to hide any trace of us. Anything I may have missed should be unnoticeable. However, I can't promise anything. Tiny, tiny pieces of you could be left behind— you know how forensics works." There wasn't much to hide; he'd quickly scanned the place for fibers and found nothing of note. He'd hidden any patches of Will's skin deeply under Elliot's pile.
     Will paused. "What did you do to him?"
     Hannibal froze for a moment, his hands coming to a stop as he lifted his fork. "I gave him what he wanted. Divinity."
     "You made him an angel." A surprisingly steady demeanor.
     "He helped me as much as he could. Until he couldn't."
     Will's breath hitched, stability cracking. That didn't take long. "He was alive?"
     "I convinced him to let me help. For a brief moment, he saw himself living out his dream. He watched himself become pure. But then..then I watched him die."
     "Was he scared of you?"
     "He was delirious. He thought I was an angel."
     Will struggled to swallow. "So he probably died happy."
     "He did. He was overjoyed." If Will needed the reassurance, he would give it. It was true, after all.
     "How long will that last?"
     "It's not up to me." Hannibal didn't feel the need to share Elliot's fate-- the uncertainty was an important part of Will's becoming. He didn't want Will to start seeing himself as some savior like Elliot; that wasn't the point. "His fate is up to God."
     "..How do you get into Hell? Or, I guess, how do you get shut out from Heaven?"
     "Everyone commits sin. It's unavoidable. But you don't have to repent, or beg for forgiveness, or spend your whole life trying to undo it. The best you can do is move on. The issue begins when you let the sin consume you, and you begin to embody it. You spend the majority of your life doing harm to others."
     "Who decides that?"
     "God. Your fate, and Elliot's fate, is up to God."
     "Just like your fate was," Will quipped, flinching when he realized what he'd said. Hannibal just smiled.
     "We really aren't that different then, are we?"
     "All slaves to God."
     Hannibal took a sip of coffee. "I don't hide from God."