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Will and Hannibal arrived at the barn shortly after Jack, Will pulling the car up next to his. Jack came walking out of the barn at the sound of their arrival, his posture stiff and his eyes hard. He looked undeniably frustrated.
Will exchanged a glance with Hannibal before both of them exited the car, approaching Jack where he stood. "Elliot Budish is dead," he said. "This is now a crime scene. I've got men on the way."
Will feigned surprise. "Was he the Angel Maker? He's dead?"
"He was a suspect. We don't know if this death is natural or not, though. That's why it's a crime scene." He stepped aside. "I never said you couldn't go in, though. I need your input."

"Were you planning on interviewing him?"

"Yes. His ex-wife told us about this place; we figured we would find him here. You'd know about this if you'd answered my calls."

Will looked away, shoving down any sarcastic remarks. He licked his lips as he remembered the feeling of Hannibal's. "..I'm sorry," he said. "I got busy. And you acted like you didn't want me on this case."

"I wanted you here to interview him with me. I figured you'd answer Doctor Lecter." He glanced pointedly at Hannibal. "Looks like you did."

"I'm not one to call, Jack," Hannibal interjected. "If I call, it's something important. Will knows that." None of it was a lie-- it was just an artful dance around the truth. Saying things without actually saying things.

Jack ignored him, pointing a finger at Will. "You need to be more alert, okay?" He looked behind them, noticing that they had both arrived in the one car. "Why are you here together, anyway?"

"We had a session this morning, since he was busy last night," Hannibal replied. "You called while he was with me. As always."

Yeah, Will thought. A makeout session, maybe. He hoped his blush wasn't visible.
"Jack, what am I walking into? Honestly." Will tried to get back to the task at hand.
"A bloodbath." His answers were short, clipped. Will wondered if the scene had affected him, or if he was just suspicious of the two. He nodded wordlessly and stepped past Jack, bracing himself as he entered the barn.
The inside smelled like decay and rust, and the hay was stained crimson. Will noticed a large puddle on the ground near the middle of the barn, and he watched with horror as a red droplet came from above and rippled across it like rain on a lake.
Some of this blood is mine, he thought. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his head to look up.
Up on the barn's wooden rafters, Elliot Budish hung with his arms horizontal. The skin on his back had been sliced and flayed, spread like fleshy wings. His head lolled forward, his face peaceful as if he was merely asleep. He had been stripped of everything but his boxers.
"Shit," Will muttered, quickly turning away. "What the hell.." Hannibal had been right.
"It happened sometime last night." Jack's voice boomed through the open space, startling Will. "He was seen on a security cam at a gas station yesterday at five— had to have happened sometime between then and now."
"Do you think he knew we were coming?"
"He shouldn't have. There's no way."
"This looks.." Will paused. "I don't know. Like an escape."
     "Trying to run from what he did?"
     "Trying to run from the consequences," Will corrected. "He doesn't regret what he did."
     "If I ask you to analyze it, will you have another breakdown? If we stay outside?"
     Will considered it; if he dodged his job now, he would look suspicious. He'd done this before, he could do this again. Things would be different this time. He nodded, to which Jack patted him on the shoulder and left him to do what he did best. Will waited until the barn door was shut almost all the way, then he closed his eyes and let himself be transported.
     It was nighttime, Will's burnt shoulder throbbed, and he was weak with blood loss. He felt his heartbeat in his head.
     Elliot suddenly fell from the rafters, landing on his hands and knees on the hay. His wings were spread, muscles and veins and bone visible underneath them, until the skin fell back into place. The scars healed themselves, time working backwards. Will crouched down, partly to regain his balance and partly to be on Elliot's level.
     "You..do you see him, too?" Elliot asked, his voice weak like that of a child. "Do you see?"
     Will nodded, stoic. "I do."
     The two of them turned their heads, staring at the creature that towered over them both. White skin, twisted antlers, feathery wings, maroon eyes that held knowledge they couldn't even begin to comprehend.
     "He's going to help me." Will realized that Elliot was crying. "He can make me an angel."
     "Do you believe him?"
     "Yes." He lunged forward without warning, grabbing Will by the wrist. "He's an angel. He will save me. I love the angel." His grip tightened even more. "He can give me everything I've ever wanted."
   Will's stomach dropped at the familiar words, rendering him speechless. The Devil opened his arms and waited.
"He saved you. He healed your wound." Elliot's voice was full of awe. His eyes twinkled. "It was a miracle. Both of us are destined to be angels."
"Elliot, wait—"
"I didn't mean to hurt you— I'm so sorry. I couldn't save you. But he.. he can." Elliot stood, walking straight into the creature's arms. It embraced him, and Elliot's shoulders hunched forward as he sobbed into its shoulder. It held Elliot like a child. Like it had held that little boy decades ago before stealing his body.
Will felt nothing but blind terror as it led Elliot over to his cot. There, Elliot bent down and handed it a box of various tools and weapons. Some were covered with dried blood. It withdrew one of the larger knives, inspecting it before pulling Elliot close to him.
Will spun around and squeezed his eyes shut before he could see the viscera. Elliot's screams rang through the barn, and at some point Will noticed them multiplying, splitting into a dozen screams that were hauntingly familiar. He hadn't heard them in a while, not since he'd taken the Devil's hand, but he knew the sound when he heard it.
The victims of the Minnesota Shrike screeched for help. Katie was at the front of it all, dark hair tangled and eyes bloodshot, horrified. Will took a few steps backwards, covering his ears.
"He found me! He found me!" Her screams. Her screams...
Will ground his teeth together. He shook with a fear so visceral that it began to make him feel sick.
"Let him guide you to salvation!" Elliot cried out over the girls. "He's found you, now he must help you become the angel you've always been! Join him! Join him!"
The girls abruptly halted their shrieks, leaving Will with ringing ears. He felt many pairs of eyes on him, eyes that were wide with shock and trauma.
"He found you," Katie whispered, voice shaking. Will would know her voice anywhere. "He found you. He found you."
The other girls followed suit, changing their words to match hers. Their emotion was impossible to read; Will wasn't sure if it was a grave warning or an expression of joy. All he knew for sure was that he'd been noticed. The ghosts grabbed him and shouted in his ears, gripped his chin and yanked his hair to get his attention. They wanted to make sure he was listening. He felt their breath on his face and their cold hands all over him.
"He..he found me."
The ghosts were stunned into silence, looking back and forth between Will and the Devil. The barn was so, so quiet.
The creature shifted out of the corner of Will's eye, turning to face him. Elliot had gone limp in its arms, and it dropped him like he was a doll. It began a slow walk towards Will, eyes boring into him. The girls huddled around him in fear.
"He found me. He found me. He found me." Will repeated the words on a loop, transfixed. If he kept going, they would all leave him alone. It would just be him and the angel, and then he could finally be saved. "He found me. He found me. He—"
"Will."
The invisible hands on him dissolved. Elliot had quieted, reduced to a grisly mess on the rafters. The creature retreated into the shadows, and Will let out a strangled cry of disappointment. Come back.
Jack stood near him, watching him with a quizzical expression. "Are you with me, Will?"
The angel was gone. Will was back in the present. He nodded, grateful to be broken out of the trance. "I'm okay. I know who I am." He sighed. "..I know who I am."
"You wouldn't stop saying 'he found me'. It was like you were broken. I didn't want it to get worse."
"No, I'm glad you did." He continued to study Elliot's body. He hoped that the case would be very cut and dry-- both for his reputation and for his mental health. He didn't want to be caught for what he'd done, but he also couldn't spend much more time with Elliot's psyche. The two of them were a little too similar, and Elliot brought out a side of him that he was truly afraid of. A side that saw an angel rather than the Devil, a side that wanted to fall to his knees and let himself be saved. He had to tell himself over and over again that this wasn't salvation; it was simply Elliot's sick idea of it.
"So? Who found him?"
Will's stomach clenched. There was no way he could tell the truth. Great— Jack would be on the lookout for someone who killed Elliot, and surely that would lead back to him at some point. He pondered on how to save himself.
"God did." Hannibal entered the barn, his hands in his pockets. "God found him."
Jack looked bewildered at the statement, while Will tried to play along with the save.
"Exactly," Will replied. "This is a man who thinks he is divine. A man who thinks he's playing God. Eventually, though, there's going to be some guilt there. He's already been shown to hallucinate-- he thought that God had come to punish him." He looked up. "He thought that the only way to save himself was to make himself an angel, too."
"You're suggesting this is a suicide? There's no way. This death is outlandishly cruel. You really think he could have done this to himself? The amount of fucking murderous gymnastics he would have to do?" Jack's voice rose with every word. He noticed himself getting angry and let out a frustrated breath. "Someone killed him."
"Who would have the motivation? The want? The means?"
"That's what we're here to do." Jack pulled out his phone. "The team's about ten minutes out."
"You're wasting your time, Jack."
"It's my time, and I can do whatever the hell I want with it." He began frantically typing. "Thank you for your input, but we'll see what forensics says. You can go. Get back to whatever you were busy with."
Will let him walk away, as his feet were rooted in place. He stared at Elliot until his vision blurred and he was sure the angel could fly.

"You're not God," he said softly, unsure if he was talking to Elliot or to Hannibal. Hannibal took it as his cue either way, moving to stand close to him.

"Aren't I?" He replied with his true voice. He followed Will's gaze, satisfaction and glee in his eyes. "Aren't I?"

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