WRATH: A Hannigram Fanfiction

22- Le Dormeur

Doctor Hannibal Lecter takes a quick flip through his business cards. Lawyers, surgeons, former coworkers and colleagues all reside in his little compartment of his office, information stored in one wheel. It doesn't take him long to find who he is looking for, and he dials the number right away.
Lecter is an amicable man. Anyone is willing to throw out any past differences and get together with an old friend— his dinners are always exquisite. He at least creates interesting conversation.
Doctor Hannibal Lecter shoves a man down the stairs and watches his neck crack. He doesn't have to check for a pulse; the blood is already beginning to pool inside his head. In the basement he removes the head entirely, cutting it clean with a buzz saw and lifting it up by the hair to stare into the lifeless eyes. The corner of his mouth turns up.
He makes an incision, sternal to inguinal, and he uses his gloved hands to tear open the ventral cavity. He examines the organs inside and eventually settles on the lungs. They're healthy; this man was never a smoker, he remembered.
Instead of displaying it like he normally would, Lecter hides the body among the trees of a hiking trail not far from his home. No one ever strays from the path, and there's less likely to be any people there in the winter. He positions it curled up on its side, fetal position, clutching its own head to its heart as if listening for a heartbeat.
Doctor Hannibal Lecter goes to work the next morning.
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     Things went on as usual for about four days, a record for the FBI.  Will and Hannibal had therapy, ignoring the impassioned tension that seemed to permeate the room. They investigated another Shrike scene. They spoke to Beverly about DNA evidence.
     Things seemed to be going alright— until Hannibal got the phone call.
     It was about an hour before his allotted time with Will, and he was finishing a sketch at his desk when a ringing interrupted him. Hannibal picked up his phone and put it on speaker, too indifferent to actually stop what he was doing to talk to anyone. He ran the pencil down the slope of Will's nose, the contours of his cheekbones.
     "Hello."
     "Hey, I just got done with a meeting with Will." It was Jack. "I figured I had to let you know some stuff. He's real upset."
     Hannibal gripped the pencil tightly. "Okay."
     "He's no longer permitted to work on the Shrike case or the Angel Maker case. I figured they were too personal for him, and after his past meltdowns, it's too dangerous. He's very mad about being sent off, though."
     "I don't blame him." He kept his voice steady. "Will is deeply invested in those cases."
     "I know, but I just can't have him flying off the handle again. You're the one who screamed at me to take him off the job. Are you changing your mind now?"
     "Drugs are dangerous for an addict, Jack. That doesn't mean you snatch them all away and expect the addict to be alright. You wean them off."
     "You're suggesting Will is addicted to his job?" Jack asked, bewildered. "That would mean he's got absolutely nothing else."
     Hannibal didn't respond. He let Jack sit uncomfortably on the other end, letting the revelation seek in. Jack sighed.
     "We found foreign DNA at the scene of Elliot Budish's death, Doctor Lecter."
     "Okay."
     "I don't buy Will's explanation of a suicide, if I'm being honest with you. Don't tell him I said that. It's just...it's completely improbable. And he knows that."
     "You believe Will could have done something like that? Or hid the truth, at least?"
     "I think he may have been more involved than he's letting on. He was there. The DNA will prove it." There was a pause. "We're testing the DNA on Friday or Saturday. I want you to come along, if you're open."
     "Is Will coming?" Hannibal looked at his calendar— he had some appointments on Friday.
     "No. He's no longer involved."
     "It may be better for me to stay with him."
     "Great. Just...be careful with him, I guess. I don't know what kind of mood he's in."
     "I'll be more careful than you've ever been, Jack."
     Hannibal hung up immediately after, relishing the feeling of leaving without a goodbye. Giving Jack a taste of his own medicine.
When the time arrived, Hannibal opened his door to find Will slumped over a laptop in the waiting room, massive bags weighing his eyes down. He lifted his head and immediately stood, not closing the laptop as he entered the room. Hannibal closed the door behind them, and Will stood in the middle of the office with his back turned.
"They have my DNA."
"I know." Jack must have called him, too.
Will turned around. "You said you got rid of it all."
"Will, I tried. Did you really expect me to clear the area of every skin cell, every drop of your blood?"
"You're the Devil, Hannibal. You brag about your power all the time; why couldn't you do this for me?"
"You're the one who is trying to paint Elliot's death as a suicide. It makes you look suspicious, Will. It makes you look like you're hiding something, because there's no way injuries like that could have been self-inflicted."
     "You let me say that! You didn't correct me!"
     "And you let yourself get shot. You didn't call me in the moment he pulled out that gun, and it's because you're reckless. You really didn't care whether you lived or died, did you? And now your DNA is all over the barn."
     "No! No, I didn't care. I didn't fucking care."
      His eyes softened. "I tried my best. You've tried your best. I am going to keep trying my best. Do you really think I'd let you get arrested?"
     "I think you'd do anything to hide who you really are. Even if it means putting me on the line."
     "Stop. Don't you dare say that."
Will's jaw clenched as he took a step forward. He turned the laptop screen so Hannibal could see it. "I'm going to catch the Minnesota Shrike," he said through clenched teeth. "It's the only way I can fix what I've fucked up. It's the only way I can redeem myself, because you have turned me into someone I really don't like, Hannibal."
Hannibal didn't want to fight with him. He didn't want to discuss morality. He wanted Will to move closer and closer to the final step.
"Let me help."
What followed was a blur of house listings, renting sites, searching among criminal records, convicted sex offenders, prowler reports. They scoured everything they could, and eventually they decided to search under the names of his victims. There had to be some sort of pattern, other than their looks.
     "He murdered the latest girl in her own cabin. Lived in it for a few days," Hannibal remarked. "He's clearly looking for a place to stay."
"And he wants to make the most of these girls." Will nodded. "He could be using something under one of their names."
They had procured a list of names and were now churning through it, one girl after another. Hannibal was scrolling through one girl's uninteresting past when Will's voice woke him back up.
"Wait," he said, followed by a gasp. Hannibal turned to look. "There's been a recent purchase under the Diana Latimer name. A cabin. Signed off with her identity."
The database didn't offer much, just a catalogue of federal purchases under the person's identity. Renting the cabin through an app had basically been an open gate for the FBI. Hobbs had slipped up.
"He rented a cabin in this dead girl's name. Doesn't he know that those apps give your data away like candy? We see all of this so easily."
"He must not know that. That, or he only plans on staying a couple of days. He did rent it, after all— temporarily." Humans were so, so stupid. He really thought this would be harder, but it seemed that Will was going to catch his prey much faster than he thought.
Will grunted in frustration. "It won't tell me the dates he rented it. Only that the purchase was made two days ago."
"I bet he'd still be there. That's not a long time ago." He really hoped so, at least.
     "We don't have a lot of time." Will stood, slamming the laptop shut. "I have to tell Jack."
     Before he could run off into the night with no plan in mind, Hannibal grabbed his wrist. Will whipped around.
"Will. He's not going to listen to you." Hannibal frowned. "He never does. He doesn't want your input, anyway. You probably won't make it past the door, after your last conversation with him."
"He has to listen! This is the only information he's got." He held up the laptop.
"Jack is somehow even more stubborn than you are. He's not going to budge."
Will sighed. "What do you think I should do, then?"
"You have all of the information, right? You can see the address?"
"What? Why would I— no. No way. I can't go over there alone." Will shook his head forcefully.
"You won't be alone; I will come with you. The information's all there. If Jack won't listen, go to him yourself. I own a gun— we can take that. You've got access to cuffs, tasers, anything you could need."
Will furrowed his brow. "No, Hannibal. I've already broken enough rules."
"And it's never bothered you before."
"I've got too many eyes on me now. They're already gonna find my DNA in Elliot's barn, and...I don't know. I don't know what to do." His voice shook. The tension from the start of the session was all gone. Underneath all of the frustration, Will was terribly afraid.
"Talk to me, Will. What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? I'm scared!" Will blurted, his face turning red. He averted his gaze and lowered his voice so much that Hannibal had to lean in to hear. "I'm scared of him, I'm scared of you," Hannibal flinched, "and...I'm scared of myself. Of what I'll do to him."
"What do you fear you'll do?"
"I'll kill him," he whispered. "I'll kill him the moment I see him." There was something new in his eyes, a ravenous hunger. Beautiful.
"That's okay, Will. That's normal. He's a horrible man. He deserves it."
"No. It's not normal. You made me that way."
     "I don't believe I've changed you. I simply exposed what you've been hiding away from the world." He stepped closer. "You hide your true desires."
"I don't have any true desires! I just want to be happy." He ran a hand across his face. "I don't want to be a bad person."
"Will, you're not. You're not a bad person. But you do conceal parts of yourself." He placed a hand on Will's shoulder. "You empathize with these killers because, in reality, you share their desires on a fundamental level."
"Because I liked killing them as much as they liked killing others."
"Yes. And it's always been there. Someone just needed to help you bring it out."
Will picked at his fingers. "There's something that I can't get out of my head. And...I can't talk about it until I know I'm right."
Hannibal studied him, running his thumb along the back of Will's hand. They couldn't let go of each other. There was a silent exchange of glances, a promise of trust. A promise to forgive.
"...What did you feed me?"
"Just some soup."
"Who did you feed me?"
Hannibal licked his lips. There was no use in hiding the truth. "Elliot Budish."
Will twitched, staring blankly at him for a moment before everything fell apart. His face crumpled, and he yanked away from Hannibal's grip. He ran his hands through his hair, letting out a primal, furious scream. The entire room vibrated with the sound.
"It's the truth," Hannibal said, voice booming over the echo of his shriek. "What is your truth?"
"I knew. I knew it was him, and I wanted to eat it and I ate it and I liked it and I hate myself." The words came out in a rush, nearly incomprehensible. "I hate myself."
     "You knew from the second I gave you that bowl that there was human meat inside."
Will nodded. "I did."
"And yet you stayed," Hannibal replied. "Tell me why you stayed."
"You know why. You know everything," he snapped.
"I want to hear it from you."
Will contemplated the question, finally facing him once more. "I felt safe," he murmured, a complete contrast from moments ago.
"Why?"
"Because no one's ever looked at me like you did. Touched me." His eyes watered with tears. "Cared for me."
     He had the answer to his questions: Will had really never been cared for. He was starved of affection. "That feeling overpowered any guilt about Elliot's death."
"I knew that Elliot had done me wrong. That he'd done so many people wrong." He wiped his cheeks. "I ate him. Down the hatch like...like a pig."
    "It gave you power over someone who perceived you to be weak."
"They underestimate you." Will looked
relieved that someone understood. "They're discourteous, so you kill them. They think of you as just some measly human, and...you show them otherwise."
"Act like a pig, and you're going to get treated like one. Eaten and forgotten."
     Will bowed his head. "I stayed with you because I knew I was safe. It was a final reminder that...that I won."
"Yes, Will. You won." Hannibal smiled wistfully. "And isn't there such beauty in that?"
     Reluctantly, Will nodded.
Hannibal cupped Will's tear-streaked face in his hands. "You are so close," he said softly. "So close. Everything you've ever wanted is hovering right before your eyes. Can't you feel it brushing your skin? Tempting you?" Bliss was right in front of his eyes; Hannibal couldn't fathom how he didn't notice it.
     "I'm too scared to grab on. I'll get carried away."
"I'll be here to ground you. You have to take one final step in order to give yourself the peace you've been wanting."
     Will knew what he was going to say. "Please don't."
"You have to kill him. With your own hands."
Will physically staggered, leaving Hannibal to bear his weight. "I can't kill him, Hannibal. I've got too many people watching me. I would never forgive myself."
"Who cares who's watching you when you have me?" Hannibal pressed their foreheads together. Will leaned into it. "One step, Will. We'll go together. You can live out every desire you've ever had. You can find justice for Katie."
"But—"
"We don't have to be here. We can go somewhere else together, somewhere beautiful. And I will give you everything. You'll be free. We'll finally be peaceful."
     He knew Will would never agree, but he looked tempted by the offer. That was what mattered. "Why do you want me? Why, of all people, do you want to give me those things?"
     He briefly kissed Will on the lips. He had to show some vulnerability, or he wasn't going to get anywhere. He felt comfortable doing it here. "I can't get your image out of my head. You, asleep in my bed." He ran his thumb along Will's cheek. "You are beautiful, Will. Your mind is beautiful."
     "I'm not."
     "You are. And I just know that once you take this final step, you will flourish. It will be breathtaking." Even Hannibal was beginning to crack, voice wavering as his eyes welled.
    Without warning, Will began to sob. It wasn't anywhere near a gentle cry; it was silent weeping that racked his entire body. He shook, putting his whole breath into the cries, and all Hannibal could do was hold him.
     "It's okay," he reassured him. "It's okay."
     "Please tell me what's happening. Please."
     "You will understand very soon."
     "Stop saying that. I'm scared, Hannibal."
     "The sooner you do this, the sooner you'll know."
     After a long while, Will spoke. "I can't."
"You can—"
"I can't," Will blurted. "If I take that step, I'll be admitting that everything I've ever told anyone, everything I've told myself, is a complete lie. And I just...I can't do that." He pulled away, and Hannibal felt the thread between them snap.
"Please reconsider. What can I do?"
"Stop." Will began to run for the door, but stopped when Hannibal called his name. His palm rested on the doorknob.
"I see you. I see you, and I love you."
Will looked horrified. "There's...there's nothing worth loving, Lucifer. Nothing."
He turned and left the office without another word. The slam of the door echoed for a long while.
Hannibal stood alone in the center of the room. He took a deep breath and sat down in the nearest chair: Will's chair, the one that he stared at long after Will had gone home after sessions.
He couldn't escape Will. Will laughing and crying and smiling and holding onto him for dear life. His voice repeating on a loop, kiss me kiss me kiss me please don't stop I want this. I want this for right now.
Will, the ever quiet sleeper. Innocent, almond-shaped eyes closed. Smooth skin and deep breaths and shifting under the covers. He was so, so lovely. And he would soon be his, but it felt so far away— Hannibal could hardly wait any longer.
He really, really couldn't wait.
But he would have to. He was a patient man.