WRATH: A Hannigram Fanfiction

24- Le Dieu

"Things are about to change, my love. I need you to make a vow for me."
"But—"
"They are going to say things about me. Horrible things. God is going to send me away no matter what I do now. He knows how I feel, and He will not have it."
"There must be something we can do."
"Angel, you must agree with them. You must do whatever you can to protect yourself. Do not side with me. If you must, tell God that you hate me. Tell Him that I am Sinful and that I deserve to be punished. That way you can remain safe up here. Can you promise me that?"
"...No. No, I don't think I can."
     "Angel, please. Please. I'll do anything."
     "I cannot denounce you. Not in good faith."
     "They will ruin you. You will be banished from Heaven."
     "That doesn't matter to me. I want to be wherever you are. Even if it's not here."
     "I will always come back to you. Always."
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The sun was beginning to set, casting an orange light throughout Will's living room. Hannibal sat on the couch, idly petting the head of a German Shepherd, watching tufts of fur dance across the wooden floor. The room was tense and silent, like even the dogs knew something was wrong.
He'd just gotten the call from Jack Crawford. They'd found Will's DNA at the scene of Elliot's murder, he said. Will was officially a suspect, and now he was missing. None of it looked good, not one bit of it.
There was no turning back now, Hannibal realized. Things were going to change; this life that he knew would not last much longer. He and Will were going to run. Everything he'd built— the house, the job, the relationships— would have to be thrown away, but he didn't care. He'd done it so many times before. Everything was material, temporary, while his love for Will was forever.
When he called Will, it went straight to voicemail. The phone was either shut off or gone; either way would be a smart move on Will's part. He had no way of finding where Will was, but neither did Jack. That was the important thing.
He took some time to prepare the house. He made the bed down, and the dogs jumped onto it. He filled the food bowls extra high and made sure all of the water was filled nearly to the brim. He let the dogs out one last time, making sure that they would be as comfortable as possible until someone finally went to Will's house. He presumed it would be Beverly, and he didn't want her to have to clean anything up. The less that Will had to worry about the dogs, the better. 
Finally, once it had been dark for a little while, a barely perceptible change in the air struck him. It wasn't something that could be explained; he simply knew that the time had come. Perhaps Will had called his name, perhaps there was a great deal of suffering that was drawing him close. He couldn't know the particulars of the situation, but he knew it was time to go.
That was all that Lucifer needed. He shed his body as quickly as he could, and then he disappeared.
He was in a forest, likely in Minnesota. Heavy sleet pounded down onto the dirt; it was supposed to get below freezing in the north tonight. The windchill made the air even more biting. As he hid among the trees, invisible to the human eye, he heard approaching footsteps along with the sound of a woman crying.
The people came to a stop nearby, and Lucifer took in the sight. There were three of them, two men and one woman. He recognized one of the men as Garrett Jacob Hobbs, and when the other lifted his head Lucifer felt his Soul nearly stop shining.
It was Will, eyes filled with terror and determination.
Hobbs whispered something to Will that was incomprehensible over the heavy rain. Another one of the girl's cries rang out through the trees. Will began to kneel, but halfway down he swung his arm towards Hobbs and threw himself out of the way. Hobbs screamed, dropping the pistol that Lucifer had just now noticed was in his hand. The faint aroma of blood wafted to Lucifer. Someone was hurt.
Remembering what had happened the last time someone held a gun up to Will, Lucifer quickly moved to intervene, but some invisible force stopped him in his place. It was like the Universe was reaching out its hand and placing it on his shoulder. It sent a silent message his way, telling him not to intervene. Lucifer wanted to resist, but he knew better than to disobey the only force that was more powerful than himself.
Will lunged for the gun and grasped it in his fingers, but Hobbs wasn't finished. He swore, pouncing on Will and wrestling his wrists. Lucifer remembered Will's stories of being a cop, being quick on his feet in action— that part of him was coming back in a rush of adrenaline. He was too agile for an injured Hobbs, kicking him until he was down.
"Go!" Will suddenly screamed. "Run, now! Run, and don't come back! Go anywhere but here!"
The crying woman took off, her footsteps light and quick as she retreated into the darkness. Lucifer wondered if she would be okay. He then realized he didn't care.
There was a clamorous bang that drew his attention back, and he heard the sound of metal hitting the dirt. Someone had fired the pistol. Judging by the scream that followed, Hobbs was the one who had been hit.
Will stood over the man he had just shot. His shoulders heaved as he took effortful breaths, and he gripped the weapons in his hands like they were the only comforts he had left. He'd been carrying a knife, Lucifer realized. Will watched Hobbs writhe on the ground, his leg bent at an unnatural angle, before finally kneeling down to the Shrike's level.
Again, Hobbs spoke, but it wasn't loud enough for Lucifer to hear. Whatever words came out of his mouth sent Will into a frenzy, and Lucifer watched with delight as his arm travelled up, up, up...
Down. He stabbed Hobbs in the chest. Hobbs froze, his limbs locked as he stared up in shock.
Will yanked the blade out and did it again.
He swung the knife with a new conviction, an anger that Lucifer had never seen from him before. Animalistic grunts escaped his throat, and he put his whole body into the simple action of bringing the knife down. He punctured every inch in sight of Hobbs' body, reducing him to liquid on the forest floor. He stabbed the Shrike long after he'd gone still, long after his eyes had turned glassy. When he finally came to a stop, he was breathing so hard that he began to cough. He rubbed his shoulder.
Lucifer stood among the tree trunks, astonished. It was one thing to witness Will's desires in his head— standing here now and watching it unfold was something completely glorious. He watched the way Will stared down at his hands, the realization of what he'd done sinking in, and that same irresistible force compelled him to look away. This was private. This was something for Will to experience alone.
Will sat hunched over on the ground, heavy rain pounding upon him. As he wasn't allowed to look, Lucifer could only guess what Will was going through. He was likely lost in himself, his idea of the world contorting into something new. This was the first time he'd truly let his desires shine through, and it must have brought him so much peace.
That, after all, was the important thing.
You are like God to me. Lucifer was afraid to approach him, to disturb the burning bush in front of him. He felt he wasn't worthy of seeing Will; he was about to become a living, breathing miracle, and Lucifer feared it now that the time was near. What if something went wrong? What if Will chose to run?
But looking at him now, it didn't make sense that he would run. He looked too content.
Without moving, without turning his head, Will spoke. "Lucifer," he whispered.
The Universe released him, retreating to never be present in his life again. Lucifer approached. As he got close, he saw that Will had a massive gash on his face, black with blood that ran down to his neck. His skin and lips were tinged blue, and he shivered. His cheeks glistened with blood and tears. He sank all the way down to the ground, huddling into himself to keep some semblance of warmth.
Lucifer spoke.
"Hello, Will."