FOUND: A Hannigram Devil AU REWRITTEN

Chapter Five

The next few days blended together, a heavy, viscous mess of hospital treatments and skipping meals and just sitting, waiting, for something to happen. Will refused to leave the room often — he wanted to be right there when the girl gained the strength to speak. Hannibal always stayed with him. At times, they would talk to the girl about surface-level topics, but most of the time, both of them just gazed down in silence at her as she slept. She slept more and more as the days went on, and throughout that time she never said a single word. The men never let anyone else in; the press was too intrusive, and no family members had come to claim her. Freddie Lounds had tried to fight her way in, but Hannibal had scared her away.

The girl hadn't shown any sign of recovery. She was getting worse, it seemed: paler and paler by the day, her wound leaking and requiring a change of bandages more often. Jack was getting impatient. He wanted to get back to work on the case, and the two men that he was relying on were both busy with something completely unrelated, in his eyes. But this was the case. This girl could hold important information, and she needed someone to be there for her. Someone she could confide in.

One evening, three days after the attack, Will opened his eyes as Hannibal reentered the room. He didn't remember seeing or hearing Hannibal leave.

"Hey," Will said, voice thick with sleep. He had taken to napping on the room's hard couch, which hadn't provided much comfort. It was more like unconsciousness than restful sleep. He often felt worse than he did before.

"Figured you'd want a boost," Hannibal replied, holding up one of two Styrofoam cups that exuded light steam. He set Will's cup down on the table next to the couch. "Fair warning, though: it's the worst coffee I've ever had in my life."

Will smirked. "I have lower standards than you." He took a sip, and his face involuntarily scrunched up at its acidic taste. "Oh, wow, that's awful."

Hannibal laughed, a melodic sound that made Will's mouth quirk up. He got the feeling that Hannibal didn't laugh often. For a moment, the two of them smiled, the severity of the situation forgotten. Will's muscles ached from his odd position on the couch.

"Maybe it's best if you go home, Will." Hannibal returned his gaze to the girl. He stood protectively over her bed. "They're going to release her face soon. Try to identify her."

Will understood what this meant: the FBI didn't think that she'd ever be able to identify herself. "...She's going to die, isn't she?"

Hannibal remained silent, pondering. "I don't know."

"She doesn't look good. Maybe you were right to be apprehensive."

"I don't want to be right. I want to see her get better." Hannibal shook his head. "But I worry about her. The nurses say that she's likely gotten an infection."

"They can't fail her," Will said softly. "She's been through enough."

"Maybe this is the better option."

Will stiffened. "How could you even--"

"Do you think she's the ticket? The one he's really been after all along?"

"I...I don't know. But even if it was, she wouldn't be better off dead."

"Didn't you think it would be his daughter? That would mean her own father would have done this to her. And we haven't had a mother claim her yet. No one has. Who knows what's happened to them."

Will leaned back against the pillows, his limbs sagging like lead weights.

"If she lives, and she is his golden ticket, then she will suffer greatly because of it. Not to mention the man is still out there. What if he isn't finished with her?"