You curl your arms around Will's, resting your chin on his forearms. His breath tickles your ears, his soft snores blending with the sound of Sam and Dean driving on the tv. You smiled, snuggling closer to him.
The sun was barely peaking through the curtains, filtering onto the wooden floorboards, making a pattern that shifted with the air conditioning. You felt a short buzz in your pocket, and you slowly reach for it, clicking the notification on Twitter.
Direct Message opens, and you stare, confused at the words.
"Meet me at the coffee shop. Before 10. Jack goes at 11."
You blink, wondering what sick joke someone had come up with. You bite the inside of your cheek, typing back against your better judgment.
"Who are you?"
"A friend. Trust me. I'm not texting any more." You furrow your eyebrows, hesitating before responding.
"I'm bringing someone."
"Unless it's Will, or somehow Hannibal, no."
"What happened to no response." Will jerks slightly, causing you to turn and look at him. He settled back, seemingly never woken up. You turn back to your phone screen, listening to Will's breathing in the background as you read.
"I'm trying to help you, trust me. Just bring your boyfriend, and look for me. Red beanie."
You looked in confusion as the mystery person sent a photo of a flower, a bright almost sunflower looking plant. You sighed, settling back against Will.
"That's a Gerbera." You jump, whipping your head around to Will. His hair was a mess, curls covering one of his eyes, sticking up randomly like blades of grass.
"Why do you know that? Better yet, when the fuck did you wake up?"
Will laughed, raspy from sleep. "Hannibal once gifted me some. Along with roses, and a handful of others. In a man's body. He later explained the secret meaning behind the flowers, and it now makes my heart melt to think about it."
You find yourself softly smiling at the glitter in Will's eyes as he recalled the murder. You laugh internally at the realization that the two of you were fawning over a gruesome crime.
"Roses have multiple meanings, but he planted them as a symbol of sinners and saints, as both my innocence and passion. The Gerbera are symbols of secret love."
You worry your bottom lip, squinting as you worked through what just happened.
"Someone messaged me on Twitter. Told me to 'go to the coffee shop' at ten. I don't know what's going on, but considering the fact that they sent that flower specifically they seem like one, someone who is obsessed with The Ripper's murders, or two, is obsessed with the relationship here." Yoy gesture between the two of you.
Will sat in silence, his face almost completely blank. "So, what are you wearing to the shop?"
You lean away from him, shocked. "This could be dangerous. We have no idea what this person wants."
Will rolled his eyes. "Sweetheart, we're going to prison in less than 12 hours. This can't be worse."
"Death, torture, kidnapping, god, so many other things that I'm not going to think about."
Will leaned close to you. "Sometimes I think you forget who I am, darling. I kill people for fun. One little person in a coffee shop isn't going to be able to do jack shit to us." You feel a shiver go up your spine, and your eyes dart between Will's eyes and his lips.
"You're adorable, sweetheart. Stay focused for me, won't you?"
You blush, Elbowing him in his chest, smiling. "Fine. I'll go. But you bring a weapon, and keep your fucking guard up."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
You lean closer, eyes on Will's lips. "Sadly, it seems I'm a little too focused on other things right now to think about our future." Will chuckled, arms still wrapped around you.
His hand went flat against your stomach, his lips finding your neck. "Be glad you're irresistible, darling."
(Time skip brought to you by this story getting both top ten on #mentalillness and number one on #hannibal (thank you guys))
You grip Will's hand, the anxiety you feel making the air seem heavier. The air began to smell of fresh brew, and you felt yourself relax slowly.
This would be the place that you would always remember, that you would think back to wherever you ended up after today.
You opened the door, the bell at the top jingling. You smile at the girl working the register, waving at the familiar face. You nod, and she begins to work on your order, a silent understanding.
You check your watch, the hand ticking right on ten. The bell rings behind you and you turn, making eye contact with the newcomer.
Their hair was short, fluffy enough that the curls frizzed out from the sides of the red beanie that sat on top of their head. They wore baggy, holey jeans, and a shirt that read "Blame it on my youth" in graffiti art.
They brushed past, walking up to the counter, ordering a cup of lavender tea. With ease, they sauntered over to a table, raising an eyebrow at you as they gestured over to the seats in front of them.
You slowly walked forward, grabbing your coffee as you walked over to the table.
You slowed your breathing, relaxed your posture, and put one hand in your pocket as you sat down. You looked over at Will, eyes almost completely cold as you motioned to the seat beside you.
He wordlessly sat down, the smug satisfaction as he stared down the visitor.
"Ah, there are my killers. For a minute I was honestly worried the hype around the two of you was all bullshit. But then," they chuckled. "I saw that mask slip on, I saw the fear melt away as easily as breathing. God, your work must be brilliant to watch."
You grin, nodding your head. "I'm not alone in my work. This psycho helps too." You motion over to Will, leaned back in his seat, eyes like a lion's watching his prey.
"He looks about to ready to eat me raw, (y/n). I feel so special." You laugh at the strangers joke, but under the table you squeeze once on Will's leg, a silent warning to back off. He sighs, picking up your coffee and taking a sip.
"So, as much as you seem fun to play with, I do need to know how you know so much about me, and my family."
"God, as much of a profiler as you are, I would have thought you would have caught on by now."
You scowl, the attitude towards you making your blood boil. You scan the person in front of you, reading their demeanor.
"You're, sixteen or seventeen, but living alone. Emancipation or a runaway, I can't tell. You have an unhealthy obsession with all things true crime. You latched onto our spree a few months ago, and followed it until you pinpointed where we were. You came here either to turn us in or to help us escape. Sadly, your demeanor is throwing me off. Oh, are you non-binary?"
Their face went slack, before a smile graced their lips. "Just as good as everyone made you out to be. I'm K. And yeah, I go by they/them." You smile, still keeping the glint in your eyes there.
"(Y/n), and this Will. But you know that already. (Y/P) and he/him."
"So, are you here to call the police or get us out of the shit we're in?"
K laughed, shaking their head before picking up their tea, still steaming, and taking a sip.
"I'm here to chauffeur you to Alaska. Or the Canadian wilderness. Which ever you three prefer."
You look confused at them, tilting your head to the side, letting the mask slip to show the softer side of you.
"Ah, you still don't know much." They put their arm on the table, pulling up their sleeve to show a tattoo of a flower, the one that they sent to you earlier that day.
"We call ourselves the Blood Gerbera's. I know, stupid name. We're an undercover network of people who work for causes like Hannibal's. Getting rid of people that the justice system won't. We all have a Transvaal Daisy tattooed on our wrist to signal to others who we are. We're here to get you away from here."
***
I know I'm a day late, but I'm here. This chapter is dedicated to @Iambeebunny