All rights reserved to the creators of Hannibal and Supernatural and stuff. I have no idea what I'm doing.
Chapter One
"Where'd you even find this case?" Dean asked without taking his eyes off the road. It was pitch black outside but by the time they arrive in Baltimore, it should be morning.
"I don't know," his younger brother Sam replied. "Some website called Tattlecrime written by Freddie Lounds. Why?"
"It just doesn't seem like our kind of thing. What did it say about the victims?"
"Well some of their organs were missing, some corpses were built into a giant totem pole, some faces were cut in half, some diabetics were buried alive and used as a mushroom garden, lots of different stuff." Sam ranted off all of the crime scenes he remembered seeing online.
Dean mentally attempted to go through a list of all the creatures they've hunted, but when nothing fit the criteria, he just shrugged. "Who exactly are we going to interrogate?" His brother flipped through his small notepad until he found the page he was looking for.
"It said that some guy named Will Graham had been working on the case, but he seems to be too unstable to operate without the help of his psychiatrist, Dr. Lecter. Maybe the doctor can see the sense in his patients' madness, so I recommend we talk to him first." Sam stated.
Dean grunted his agreement. They still had a few more hours until they would be in Maryland. The conversation dulled until the only sound left was the faint hum of the impala's engine.
oOo
Hannibal Lecter sat in the chair across from his most interesting patient, Will Graham. The empath was attempting to describe the crime scene he was previously at where a girl had drowned in her own blood after her mouth was ripped apart into a Glasgow smile. Hannibal didn't care about how she was killed, since it was most likely messy and unplanned unlike his own creations; however, he was interested in how Will lost track of time and contaminated the crime scene.
"I don't even know how I'd gotten there. One moment I was at home and then somehow I was kneeling over her in a pool of her blood." Will explained. "I- I thought I killed her."
Hannibal was about to reply when he smelled something unusual. He was gifted with an excellent sense of smell, which was an asset whenever he was cooking. But now he sensed a different fragrance that masked Will's usual scent of encephalitis and cheap aftershave. He averted his gaze to the door; mere moments before it was jolted open by two men in suits.
"We're agents Cliff and Marley from the FBI. We need to ask you a few questions." The shorter one demanded.
Hannibal looked to Will to see if he knew these people, but he looked just as surprised. "Dr. Hannibal Lecter, and that's my informal patient, Will Graham." Hannibal stood up and shook each of their hands. As Will got up and quickly made his way towards the taller of the two men, the shorter one stepped possessively in front.
"Hey man, control your crazy people!" He yelled out. Hannibal breathed slowly; he did not want to appear as angry as he really was. He stepped closer to the angry agent.
"My patients are fully capable of restraining themselves, and Mr. Graham is not crazy." He almost spat the finale word in disgust, but that would be rude. The man huffed and looked back at Will, who was now eyeing him suspiciously.
"Could I see those badges again?" Will asked. "I happen to be a consultant for the FBI and I don't think I've ever seen you." Hannibal saw guilt and worry flash through the very tall man's eyes, but it quickly disappeared. If only Will would make eye contact, he could be so much more intimidating, Hannibal thought. But he knew how much his patient opposed the simple action, so he made up for what Will lacked. He closed most of the gap between him and the shorter stranger and stared intently into his green eyes. For such a strong man, he held a lot of pain behind those eyes. Hannibal wondered what else he was hiding.
The taller man clumsily retrieved his badge from his suits' inside pocket and his partner did the same. Hannibal saw nothing abnormal, but almost immediately Will drew his gun on the men.
"They're fake." Will confirmed. "Dr. Lecter, I think you should call Jack Crawford."
"With pleasure." Hannibal replied. Not the punishment he would have preferred for these rude men, but having them arrested would suffice. Personally, Hannibal thought that they would make a good entrée with a rich garlic butter and wine. He began to walk toward his desk to get the phone when he felt a gun push into his upper back.
"I don't think that's a good idea." The shorter stranger said as he pushed with the tip of his gun to lead Hannibal away from the phone. As Hannibal turned, he saw a tall man reluctantly pointing his own gun at Will, who hadn't wavered his aim either.
"Perhaps there is a better way to go about this." Hannibal agreed, remaining calm and composed. When no one moved, he decided to avoid a fight and give in temporarily to these strangers. Maybe if he showed to be no threat, he could get them to join him for dinner. "Will, why don't you put your gun away?" He proposed and stepped closer to his patient. He felt the armed man follow closely behind him.
Will seemed unsure, torn between trusting his psychiatrist and shooting the imposter. Hannibal took this opportunity to reach over him and slowly take his gun. He made a show of removing the ammunition and tossing the gun into his chair. The taller stranger then followed his actions, causing his partner to yell out at him.
"What are you doing?! We got 'em now!"
The tall one just shrugged and began to explain. "We need their help, Dean. We don't have to hold them hostage to ask them some questions. Just put the gun down for now."
So we have a name now. The angry one is called Dean, Hannibal concluded. Dean didn't seem happy with the idea, but Hannibal felt the gun lower from his back and heard him remove the bullets.
"Who even are you guys?" Will asked, doing a poor job of hiding his irritation.
"Sam Winchester," the tall one said and then beckoned to his partner. "And this is my brother, Dean." The brother just grumbled, clearly still upset about not using his gun.
Hannibal was unsatisfied with just their names. It didn't fully answer Will's question and they knew it. "Well why are-"
"Okay can you stop with all the interrogations?" Dean cut him off. "We just need to know a few things and we're outta here."
Hannibal's sentence faded into a low growl that no one else was able to hear. It is rude to interrupt when someone else is talking. Doesn't Dean realize that? "Well I have another patient scheduled to be here any minute. I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Hannibal instructed as he guided them towards the door. "But," he continued before they could argue and resist, "If it is still necessary to talk with us, then it will be over a meal. I'd love to have you both for dinner."