FOUND: A Hannigram Devil AU REWRITTEN

Chapter Twenty

Even after hours of thinking, Will never changed his mind. Despite everything, despite the need to take things into his own hands, Hannibal's influence always came back to him. Jack Crawford and the FBI were not reliable. The only person Will could rely on was himself. 

He had to go by himself. He had to take a page from Hannibal's book and let himself have control over the situation. Hannibal understood so much more than Will did, and if Hannibal told him to go, his instincts also told him he should go. Hannibal was simultaneously the only person he could trust and the last person he should trust. 

It wouldn't hurt to check out the cabin, anyway. Will could spy from afar; if he saw Hobbs there, he would call the local police and get them to come immediately. Hobbs would be in the county jail before he knew what was happening. If Hobbs wasn't there, if he'd gotten away, then the worst that could happen was a waste of time. 

He spent the next day preparing himself for his trip, packing a small duffel just in case. He needed to be strong for a twenty-four-hour drive; he didn't have time to catch a flight, and he didn't want to raise suspicion by asking for one of the jets. Time was ticking, and his DNA was still in the labs. He had to leave now.

He spent a long time on the floor with his dogs, hugging them and feeding them small bites of bacon. His heart thrummed with guilt as he looked at their wagging tails and loving eyes. For all he knew, this would be the last time he saw them. The only person he could count on to bail him out of the inevitable DNA match and possible prison sentence was Hannibal, whom Will wasn't sure he could trust. The uncertainty was killing him.

After a long nap, he pushed away his doubts and loaded himself into the car that evening. He ran through a checklist in his head: lights off, doors locked, doggy door open, food and water bowls filled to the brim. There was nothing left to do. He couldn't stall any longer.

With one final look back at his house, he drove off.

The last thing he expected was a call from Jack Crawford at eight-thirty in the evening, a mere half hour into his drive. Despite heavy reluctance, he answered, trying to keep his voice steady and hide what he knew.

"Hello?"

"Hey." Jack's voice was casual, nowhere near angry. Will's shoulders relaxed. "Beverly says they're finally making progress on the DNA. They should have some insight on potential matches by tomorrow afternoon. I want you to be there. I've invited Doctor Lecter, too, in case he has some insight."

"I thought I wasn't a part of the case." Will couldn't mask the sharp edge in his tone. He heard Jack sigh.

"I might have been wrong in my judgment, Will. The Budish case could turn into something completely different, depending on what we find. I could use your help."

Sweat formed on Will's brow. What they found could be make or break for him. "And the Hobbs case?"

"I'm not letting you back onto the Hobbs case. I'm sorry, Will, but I think you're letting your emotions get in the way when it comes to that case. I don't want your biases to taint how you see the crime scene."

Will had been right to take this into his own hands, then. Jack's voice had a patronizing undertone, but he tucked away the irritation. He was on thin ice, and it was good to keep civility in case things went awry. Jack had to believe in the best of him. 

"Okay," he agreed. "I'll come in to look with you guys tomorrow. It'll be later in the afternoon, though." The lie was unsettlingly easy. 

"Great. See you tomorrow afternoon."

Will drove and drove and drove. The interstate was empty and uneventful, and boredom soon crept in. He spent his spare time planning out what he was going to do, running through every possible scenario in his head. Hobbs was unpredictable; he had to be prepared for anything. There could be a serial killer, an empty cabin, someone completely unrelated who would catch him spying and call the police, or even a dead or injured girl. He may have been in over his head, but he'd gone too far now to want to turn back. Hannibal's voice in his head spurred him along.