Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Will watched as his students filtered out of the class. Carlata stretched under his desk. While Will never cared for others' opinions, Carlata tried to avoid the whispers that came with her form. Will hadn't cared that she settled as a striped hyena but everyone else sure did. He didn't blame her for wanting to avoid the noise when possible. Will started packing up when he saw that most of the class was gone. Carlata coming out from under the desk. They froze when they realized someone was approaching them.

"I’m Special Agent Jack Crawford. I lead the Behavioral Analysis Unit," Jack's voice was as loud as Will remembered it. He glanced at Morgan, Jack's daemon. The doberman nodded at him in greeting, choosing to ignore Carlata. Carlata saddled up to Will's side, bristling at the intruders. It didn't take long before Jack revealed his agenda. Will should’ve fought harder against the urge to comply. He could feel Carlata’s disdain. Before he knew it, he and Carlata were consulting for the FBI.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hannibal didn’t have much of an opinion upon meeting Jack Crawford. Typical member of law enforcement with a dog daemon. He knew Ieva was irritated by the arrival of unexpected guests. He smiled, shoving his own irritation down. While Jack Crawford was no marvel to Hannibal, his words were enough to peak Hannibal’s interest. A psychological profile…. He felt Ieva’s own curiosity mingle with his. Once Jack had left, Hannibal sat down, petting Ieva as he thought.

“Well,” he mused, meeting the cougar’s eyes, “This is a welcome surprise.”

~~~~~~~~~~

He had thought nothing at first when Jack mentioned bringing in another to consult on the case. Had Carlata expressed her upset? Yes. Had Will admittedly also not like the implication that he wasn’t enough? Yes. However, he understood that it wasn’t personal, most likely. The visitor had walked in, a brief introduction thrown around. Will didn’t spare the man and his daemon much thought. Dr. Hannibal Lecter and Ieva. Will was so enraptured in his thoughts that he hadn’t even realised that both him and Carlata had spoken their thoughts aloud. Tasteless.

“Do you have trouble with taste?” the doctor’s voice hung in the air as Will and Carlata realized their mistake. Carlata released a low growl, brushing against Will’s legs as she moved into the open.

“My thoughts are often not tasty,” Will quipped easily, refusing to see the man’s reaction to Carlata. He often saw disgust or fear in others upon noticing her form and while he loved her, he would rather avoid empathizing with someone who dismissed her.

“Nor mine,” Hannibal replied with ease, tilting his head. The doctor’s eyes never leave Will’s frame. “No effective barriers.” While Hannibal had not noticed Carlata, Ieva surely had. The cougar watched with interest as the hyena stood protectively around her human.

“I make forts,” Will responded. He glanced down to look at Carlata, only to follow her gaze to the cougar not far away. Ieva, his brain supplied. His gaze went back to his cup.

“Not fond of eye contact, are you?” the words slipping from Hannibal’s lips before he realized it. He felt a jolt of shock from Ieva. Will sighed, raising his eyes to Hannibal’s face, never making eye contact but skirting around it.

“Eyes are distracting. You see too much. You don’t see enough. And it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking those whites are really white or they must have hepatitis, or is that a burst vein?” Will paused, realizing he had said too much. “So I try to avoid eyes whenever possible.” His eyes left Hannibal’s face. A growl pierced the air. Hannibal glanced down to see Carlata, teeth bared. The fascination Hannibal had felt a moment prior now was coursing through Ieva. He glanced to see Ieva’s tail flickering. He smirked.

“I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love,” Hannibal told Will, looking at Carlata till the end. He watched Will process his words. Hannibal and Ieva uncharastically fond as Will as he went off on Jack. Before long, Will was out the door with Carlata not far behind, neither sparing Hannibal or Ieva another glance. Hannibal and Ieva paid no attention to Jack’s words. The duo’s thoughts were only of the pair that had stormed out.

~~~~~~~~~~

Carlata watched as Will slipped into the mind of the killer. She was fighting the urge to slip in with him. The other daemons were rather talkative and active today and she was sure they were going to taunt any minute now. If that was to happen, she’d prefer to not be broken from the mind of a killer for it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Morgan herding the other daemons away from her. She tried to hide her urge to laugh. Her focus oriented onto her human again. He was completely submerged in the stream of thoughts. As she gazed at him, she remembered a conversation from before she settled. She had been concerned because of her preference in forms. Being a striped hyena, pit viper, or scorpion would leave Will open to criticism. She had asked him what he would like her to be. He had smiled at her, barely 10 at the time, and told her to be what she felt the most comfortable as. It took her about 2 weeks before settling as a striped hyena.

Years later, she had asked him if he regretted letting her choose her form. He had taken her head in one of his hands and told her “I love that you feel comfortable in this form. Just because I’m the only one that appreciates it, doesn’t mean your choice is bad.” She had only gotten more protective after that conversation. Their bond was not like others and she had always known that. She knew from the moment she noticed he never whispered forms for her to take. She knew when he would ask if she wanted some of his food. She knew when he held onto her as he was about to be swept away into his mind he held onto her, especially in public. He never got upset with her when she too would be swept away. He got angry whenever others looked at her with disgust. He didn’t chastise her with proper edicate but let her do what she felt most comfortable to do. She was thrown from her thoughts by the disgust and horror that shot through their bond. As he stumbled back, she trotted forward, pressing herself against the side of his legs. His right hand reached down to grab her. It didn’t take long for her to understand what had shaken him. They had left soon after, wanting to be as far away from the scene as possible. His hand left her fur only to get in the car. During the drive, his hand gripped onto her like it had so many times.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ieva stared out the window as Hannibal drove them to Will’s motel room. She knew Hannibal was equally as distracted as herself. Something about the striped hyena had enraptured Ieva. Ieva went out of her way to be polite and talk to other daemons but she hadn’t said a word to Carlata. The hyena glared at her any time her eyes landed on the cougar. Hell, Carlata only spoke once the whole time Ieva was there. Even then, it was hard to distinguish the daemon’s voice as it had been minglied with Will’s. The growls that had left the hyena’s lips playing on repeat in Ieva’s head. It was rare any daemon held her attention for longer than a few seconds and yet this daemon had touched the corners of Ieva’s mind, leaving behind remnants for Ieva to decipher. It pained Ieva because she knew that Carlata had not intended it. Others had tried and failed but she had not even considered making such an impression. Will had a similar effect on Hannibal, causing intrigue to pool within him. It angered her that Hannibal was taking this rather easily. She wanted him to be more cautious. Hell, she wanted him to be angry like her. She knew full well his plan. It was their hunt for a reason. Except, she didn’t know if this could be called a hunt. To her, it seemed more like a courtship. She smirked, remembering his expression when she expressed that thought. He had told her that it was curiosity, nothing more. She knew before long the tune would change. She always knew things like this before him. Ieva was startled out of her thoughts as they arrived at Will’s motel.

Will had begrudgingly let them in. Ieva could tell he made no attempts to hide his irritation. She had slinked in rather swiftly, eyes searching for Carlata. Upon finding the hyena, Ieva resisted the urge to purr. Carlata was laying on the floor, groggily watching Ieva and Hannibal. Carlata stretched, slowly getting up and sitting down near her human's feet. Ieva sat near Hannibal's legs as the humans got situated. They were eating breakfast and chatting. Carlata seemed to pay attention to the two humans' conversation, leaving Ieva to be the only one not interested in it. After a few moments, Carlata looked at Ieva.

"I’m sorry, did we wake you?" Ieva asked, keeping her tone polite. Carlata blinked, locking eyes with Ieva. Ieva couldn't help but think it was rude.

"My apologies, I didn't introduce myself last time we met," Ieva supplied. "I'm Ieva." The hyena only tilted her head. Ieva resisted the urge to sigh.

"Carlata," the hyena said just as the cougar was going to open her mouth. Ieva shoved the purr down. She hadn't expected Carlata’s voice to be raspy, barely a note higher than Will's.

"Pleasure to meet you," Ieva allowed a small purr to her words. Carlata didn't seem to care. Ieva licked her lips. Before the conversation attempts could continue, Will’s voice cut through their conversation.

"Carlata doesn't speak much," Will informed the cougar, his gaze a warning. Ieva flicked her tail. Will’s gaze turned back to Hannibal. "I don't find you that interesting." She felt amusement course between her and Hannibal's bond.

"You will," he replied. Ieva’s eyes trailed off her human to meet Carlata’s. For the first time since their arrival, Ieva could tell what Carlata was thinking. Will may not find Hannibal and Ieva interesting, but Carlata sure did.

~~~~~~~~~~

Will tried not to fidget too much as he and Hannibal drove around. They were to investigate different construction sites. His mind kept wandering to the look Carlata had been giving Ieva. He even recalled hearing Carlata speak. He cut a glance at Hannibal. Some part of Will’s mind kept reaching out to Hannibal, begging to root through the doctor’s mind. He looked in the rear view mirror and met Carlata’s eyes. Intrigue shot through their bond. Will stifled a sigh. He knew that she would not be so easily separated from her newest fascination. As the day went on, he craved a moment alone to talk to Carlata. Any time he thought they would finally get the chance, Ieva stayed. Upon thinking about it, Will realized that Carlata and Ieva were barely a foot apart the whole day. They never touched but they got close.

By the time they got to the Hobbs’ residence, Will could practically feel Carlata’s excitement. He closed his eyes when they arrived. He knew she missed being in the field. Before long, chaos began to reign. Louise Hobbs died in front of her front door. When Garret Jacob Hobbs slits his daughter’s throat, Will doesn’t hesitate to shoot him. Next thing he knows, he’s shaking, trying his best to keep Abigail Hobbs from dying. When Hannibal comes, placing his hands around Abigail’s throat, Will removes his hands. He looks into Hannibal’s eyes, and for a moment he wonders if he knows what Carlata has noticed that he didn’t. The thought of Carlata made him look around frantically, wondering where she was. He spotted her being pinned down by Ieva. He could tell she was shaking, a cold sliver settling into his heart. If strong, silent, unyielding Carlata is shaking, he must’ve opened their bond completely, allowing her to feel everything. No that’s not it, something whispered in the back of his mind. She’s never reacted like this before. He turned back to Hannibal, centering himself using the doctor’s eyes.

Chapter Text

It took too long before Carlata and Will managed to get time alone. It wasn’t a grand affair. They simply got home and started their usual nightly routine. Before long, Will was sitting on his bed, head in his hands, and Carlata laid next to him.

“Carlata,” he started, his voice distant. “Why?” She hummed, nudging his right leg with her muzzle.

“Don’t you feel it?” she asked, her voice as distant as his is to her. “There’s only one type of person we ever feel compelled to empathize with that much.” He gave a harsh laugh.

“We feel compelled to empathize with everyone,” he retorted, trying to keep his voice even. She huffed.

“He didn’t look at me with disgust,” she answered after a few beats of silence. Will slowly removed his head from his hands, turning to meet her eyes.

“You saw his reaction?” he replied. She nodded. “No disgust?” Another nod. A choked noise escaped him. No matter who they met, there was always some level of disgust. Not just ‘normal’ people but also killers. Many would be disgusted before realization would hit and they would try and use Carlata to gain his favor. “So what, we shouldn’t turn him in as a serial killer because he didn’t look at you with disgust?” She shook her head.

“We shouldn’t turn him in because he looked at us fondly,” her voice rang in the air for a moment. A borderline hysterical laugh left Will’s lips.

“Ah yes,” he mused. “Like we need a murderer's affection.” She growled.

“When’s the last time someone truly was interested in us for us?” she snapped. “Not the empathy, not my form, not to analyze us and pick us apart, but to purely know us?”

“Are you sure that’s why?” he sighed. She glared at him.

“I empathized with Ieva while you and Dr. Lecter spoke at breakfast,” she told him. “And would slip into her emotions from then on out. She felt drawn to us, like shrapnel to a magnet.” She paused almost in thought. “She craved our attention.” Crickets could be heard chirping. Dogs snored as the two resided on the bed.

“Hannibal was practically enamored when he saw me covered in blood,” Will informed her, running his left hand through his hair as his right rested on her head. “He saw Hobbs’ number and then separated himself from us briefly, probably to call Hobbs.” He paused in thought. “He probably only saved Abigail because I was trying to.” A chuckle escaped into the air. “Needed to convince me that we have the same goals.” Will leaned over and kissed Carlata’s head. “Ok, we won’t turn him in. Mostly ‘cause I want to know if he’ll figure out that we know and when.” She hummed contently. "What shook you up earlier with Hobbs?"

"I had his daemon in my mouth when you shot him," she informed him. He flinched. He only vaguely recalled the American foxhound lunging out of his sight. "It felt like you shot me." He massaged her ears. She leaned into the touch. "Did you feel it?" He hummed. "The moment me and Ieva touched?" He shook his head.

"I was a little distracted," he replied. She whined. "Did it feel good?" No daemon had ever touched Carlata willingly. There had been small brushes and aggressive attacks but other than that she had never been touched. She never wanted other daemons' attention anyways.

"Yes," her voice soft. He nodded. His hands cupped her head.

"Do what makes you happy, remember?" He told her. His eyes searched her's. Hesitation laced her gaze. "I'll handle it like always." She licked his hands as best as she could before removing herself to get ready for sleep. Will smiled softly as he followed suit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will was awakened the next day by Jack, who wanted to explore the Hobbs' property. Carlata had grumbled the whole time from the backseat, sitting next to Morgan the whole time. Will had fallen back to sleep during the ride, only to be awakened yet again by Jack. While they toured the cabin, something ached and gnawed at Will. Carlata only sulked through the cabin, not saying a word the whole time. They both bristled when Jack admitted that Abigail was a person of interest. No one that was interviewed knew the name of Abigail’s daemon much to the discomfort of Will and Carlata. Carlata and Ieva had murmured softly in Will’s visits (and technically Hannibal’s visits) to Abigail’s hospital room. Will and Hannibal hardly acknowledged each other. While the two seemed content in the room, at home Carlata had expressed her concerns to Will about Abigail’s daemon.

“What if he takes a form similar to Hobbs?” she had asked him while walking the dogs. “What if he settles as a shrike? You’ve seen how much he favors those forms.” Will had that fear deeply settled in his chest since the first visit to Abigail’s hospital room. Her daemon shifted between different types of shrikes most of the time. Every once in a while, a different bird of prey took that place.

“Her daemon only likes birds,” Will replied, trying to ease Carlata’s nerves. “Chances are it will settle as a bird of prey.” Carlata had huffed before focusing her gaze on the dogs.

“Most don’t settle in the forms they try often,” Carlata evenly informed him. “But there are exceptions.” Will didn’t need her to remind him. She was one of those exceptions.

Carlata started growling as Will knelt down and found a strand of red hair.

“Looks like someone was here,” Will told Jack. Carlata let out a soft laugh next to him. A laugh for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will and Carlata walked into his lecture hall and were greeted with applause. Carlata huffed as Will called for them to stop. As he turned around to begin his lecture, he was surprised to catch a glimpse of Carlata sat by his side. She sat resolutely throughout the whole class. He almost smiled at how content she looked. When his students started to filter out, he saw Alana walking towards them, Lucian keeping a nice gait by her side. Carlata bristled next to Will. Carlata didn’t like the caracal and Will never questioned it. Once, she told him that she felt and saw more when gazing at another’s daemon than he does looking at other people. He had flinched at the idea of feeling more than he does now. Will’s eyes caught on the elaborate but simple collar on Lucian. He glanced at Carlata. She gave him a simple look, telling him exactly what she thought of the collar. She hated the elaborate clothes that daemons wore and never asked him for one. Her opinion on any and all daemons dropped once she saw what items they wore if they wore one at all.

“How are you, Will?” Alana asked. She glanced briefly at Lucian, nudging him with her toes. He slinked forward, not bothering to make himself smaller for Carlata’s benefit. Will gave her a slight smile.

“I have no clue,” he replied. Carlata growled, her mane rising up in warning. Will glanced down to see Lucian about half a foot away from her. He resisted the urge to scowl before mentally lecturing himself about how Lucian didn’t mean to offend. Alana looked down at Carlata in shock. She swallowed.

“That may change,” she informed him. “I didn’t want you to be ambushed-”

“Is this an ambush?” Will retorted, reaching a hand down to scratch behind Carlata’s ears.

“Ambush is immediately later,” she rushed, her tone light but panicked. Will saw Jack and Morgan heading their way. “Immediately later, soon to now. When Jack arrives, consider yourself ambushed.” Jack glanced at Alana almost in exhaustion as he heard the last bit of her warning. Morgan nodded at Lucian, barely sparing a glance at Carlata. Will tried not to show the anger that swept through him. For a moment, he was confused. He had never really felt anger at her being ignored before. He had come to expect it.

“Here’s Jack,” Will said. He heard a huff of amusement come from Carlata. It didn’t take an empathy disorder to see the brief looks of unease on Jack and Alana’s faces. Carlata got up and started to just weave between his legs, a routine they established a long time ago.

“How was class?” Jack asked, trying to be polite as Morgan looked moments away from launching off.

“They applauded,” Will informed them, trying not to grimace. “It was inappropriate.” Carlata hummed as she decided to settle in between his legs.

“Review board begs to differ,” Jack replied. “You’re up for commendation and they okayed active return to the field.” Will felt a frown form. He did his best to stop it. Carlata pulled up her lips in a silent snarl. He liked working in the field. Carlata enjoyed it beyond belief. However, they both knew it wasn’t necessarily best for them. Especially since they weren’t signed off to have a gun, much less kill their suspect. He tried not to think off Carlata’s bloodlust that he had felt briefly before she had been shaken in the Hobbs resident.

“Question is,” Alana trailed off, trying to meet Will’s eyes. “Do you want to go back in the field?” Will blinked, eyes shifting from between Jack and Alana to Carlata. She looked up. Their eyes met. Will’s gaze returned to Alana’s shoulder.

“I want you to go back in the field,” Jack informed them. “But I told the Board I’m recommending a psych evaluation.” Will tenses as Carlata growls underneath him. Will glances back at Alana, seeing an apologetic look on her face.

“Are we starting now?” he snapped. Alana shook her head as Jack’s expression shifted.

“Session wouldn’t be with me,” she answered softly. Lucian pressed his weight against her leg.

“Hannibal Lecter might be a better fit,” Jack continued. Ah, Will realized. Hannibal Lecter. He glanced down at Carlata. He heard a soft whine leave her, practically begging him to go. “Your relationship’s not as personal. But if you’d be comfortable with Dr. Bloom-” Jack’s glance at Carlata was hard to ignore.

“I’m not going to be comfortable with anybody inside my head,” Will retorted.

"We can do it instead if it makes you and Will more comfortable," Lucien offered, looking at Carlata. Carlata snarled, the noise that left her made Lucien back away and Morgan tense, baring her teeth.

"I want Ieva and Hannibal," she replied curtly. Alana and Jack exchanged a hurried look before focusing on Will. Will gave a brief smile.

"You heard Carlata," Will said, trying to push down the amusement he got from their expressions. "Who am I to deny her?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Will and Carlata arrived for their session with Hannibal and Ieva, they were greeted warmly. Will wandered around. He didn’t flinch at the slight pain that came from separation. He used to be a cop. You were trained to ignore that pain. He heard Carlata and Ieva’s voices but he couldn’t tell what they were saying. It didn’t take long for Hannibal to reveal that he had rubber stamped Will.

“Jack thinks I need therapy,” Will informed Hannibal. He heard the chattering of Ieva and Carlata down below.

“I’m not sure therapy will work on you,” Hannibal responded with ease, his voice solid and lulling. “Stealing into other minds has taught you how to fortify your own.” Will opened his mouth to respond but was cut off from the loud laugh that left Carlata. He saw Hannibal turn his gaze to her, awe painted over his face. A loud purr followed the laughter’s end. Will saw shock flitter across the doctor’s face. Will hummed. Hannibal keeps his eyes on Carlata. “What you need is a way out of dark places when Jack sends you there.” This time Will couldn’t help but laugh. His laugh came out almost like a bark.

“Oh really?” Carlata asked Hannibal, her voice laced with amusement. Ieva licked her head.

“Last time he sent me into a dark place I brought something back,” Will picked back up, glancing at Carlata. He could feel the rush of affection coursing through her. The enjoyment of being with someone she could play with.

“A surrogate daughter?” Hannibal suggested. Will felt something in him click. Ah, he thought. So that’s your play. It hadn’t been what Will was expecting. The pride and affection that he felt ringing through the bond told Will that Carlata had been expecting it. He glanced at her and saw Ieva’s gaze bright and clear gazing at the striped hyena. Will felt a smile try and make its way on his face. Ieva is open to Carlata, he tried to keep his amusement from showing.

“Not ‘cause I got too close to Hobbs,” he told Hannibal. Hannibal’s gaze sought Will’s. Will turned to avoid it. It was too soon to risk him seeing the game he was playing. Originally for Carlata, but now Will was starting to enjoy himself. How long had it been since he had so much fun?

“You saved Abigail Hobbs’ life. You also orphaned her,” Hannibal reminded Will. The doctor’s voice got stronger and, if Will didn’t know better, more emotional. “It comes with certain emotional obligations, regardless of empathy disorders.” Will felt something rise within. He wanted to snap and tear. I thought we were having a conversation, he internally growled.

“You were there,” Will retorted, turning back to face the doctor. He felt Carlata and Ieva’s gazes on him. “You saved her life, too. Do you feel obligated?” He heard a purr from the cougar.

“Of course we feel obligated, Will,” Ieva spoke, her voice soft and warm. Will thought it was a trick at first but one look at the besotted look on Carlata’s face told him all he needed to know. Ieva wanted whatever the play was that her human had cooked up. Now, he wasn’t sure if Hannibal was in the same boat.

“I feel responsible,” Hannibal picked up where his daemon left off. “I’ve fantasized about scenarios where my actions may have allowed a different fate for Abigail Hobbs.” Will could practically feel Carlata burying her laugh. Will had a hard time burying his own laugh. Ieva didn’t seem to notice their internal battle but her face was almost emotionless except for the fact her tail flicked. Will wondered if that was her way of showing she didn’t agree with something her human said or did.

“Jack thinks Abigail Hobbs might’ve helped her dad kill those girls,” Will said, trying to change and keep the conversation. Hannibal watched Will carefully.

“How does that make you feel?” he asked. Will gave a bitter scoff.

“How does that make you feel?” he retorted. Hannibal took a deep breath.

“I find it vulgar,” the doctor said after a few beats. Will felt a sense of relief fill him.

“Me too,” Will answered. Hannibal’s eyes seemed to flicker briefly before disappearing.

“And entirely possible,” he continued. Will tensed, feeling the urge to prepare for the worst. A growl left Carlata’s lips. A soft hiss was heard. Will glanced over to see Ieva looking upset, not at him, but at Hannibal.

“It’s not what happened,” Will stated. He knew he wasn’t entirely correct. She probably helped her dad in getting the girls though he doubted she actually helped kill the girls. He and Carlata had discussed it at length. If not that, she had some semblance of knowledge about her dad’s activities.

“He wouldn't be able to resist honoring Abigail if she was in the room,” Carlata snapped. Hannibal’s eyes focused on her.

“You enjoy breaking etiquette.” Hannibal said, his head cocked. “I wouldn’t have thought that but you have directly addressed me multiple times in this conversation.” Hannibal’s eyes moved to settle on Will again. “You directly addressed Ieva in your motel room.” Will blinked.

“We do what makes us comfortable, Doctor Lecter,” Carlata said plainly, like it was simple and easy and not equal to walking around naked.

“Carlata does as she wants,” Will answered evenly. “I wanted you gone. For most, the easiest way to get that done is to speak to their daemon.” Will shrugged. He didn’t need to be paying attention to know Hannibal was staring daggers into him.

“Will,” Ieva called. Will raised an eyebrow as he turned to look her in the eyes. He didn’t need to watch Hannibal to know he was tense. “The mirrors in your mind can reflect the best of yourself and not the worst of someone else.” Before Will knew it, he and Carlata were leaving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What was that, Ieva?” Hannibal asked after he was sure Will and Carlata had left the building. Ieva stared up at him, her tail flickering in a steady rhythm.

“The truth,” she answered. “They’re ours.” Hannibal resisted the urge to scoff. He felt the warmth coming through the bond.

“They can empathize with killers,” Hannibal reminded her. “That means we have to be careful.” Ieva hummed.

“All they need is confidence,” she told him, sounding sure and firm. “Our partners can not be hesitant to take what’s their’s.” Hannibal felt anger start to rise within him.

“Not this again,” he snapped. She didn’t look convinced as she watched him.

“You might not be ready to confront our feelings,” she informed him, getting up from where she had been sitting to walk toward him. “I am aware and I will not deny what my Carlata wants.” Hannibal gave her an unimpressed look, trying to keep his emotions in check. He didn't have problems like this until he met Will and Carlata. His iron control was slowly slipping the more time he spent with them. Ieva’s insubordination wasn’t helping either.

“You are plotting our downfall for something you have no certainty truly exists,” Hannibal stated, letting a small amount of bitterness to leak through. She gave him a small snarl before walking off, ending their argument before it began.

Chapter Text

Will groaned, pausing briefly in setting up his gun to glare at Carlata.

“What?” she huffed. “It's perfectly reasonable to ask for a gift for Ieva.” Will shook his head.

“No,” he growled as he put on his earmuffs and aimed his gun. He shoots until his gun is empty. He huffs as he reloads it.

“You can’t ignore me forever, Will,” she snapped. “I want this.” Will tensed as he raised his gun and began to shoot again. He sighs as he takes view of his target. He waits for Carlata to open her mouth yet again.

“I’m pretty sure firearm ‘accuracy’ isn’t a prerequisite for teaching,” Beverly stated, startling Will. He turned to look at her, catching a brief look at Dominic chatting at Carlata. He tried not to smile seeing the little Abert’s squirrel sitting about a foot away from his striped hyena. Carlata was just slightly fond of the squirrel, way more than she was of any other daemon except for Ieva. Will’s gaze is greeted with a smile from Beverly.

“I’ve been in the field before,” he informed her. She nodded, the smile not moving an inch. He sees Dominic move a little bit closer to Carlata out of the corner of his eye.

“Now you’re back in the saddle,” she replied. She stopped as if to consider. She shrugged. “Ish.”

“Ish, indeed,” he said, not bothering to dull his abrasive tone. “It took me ten shots to drop Hobbs.” He turns back to look at his target. He feels something make its way through him. He can’t tell if it's disappointment or anger.

“Zeller wanted to give you the bullets he pulled out of Hobbs in an acrylic case,” she told him, her tone friendly. “But I told him you wouldn’t find it funny.” He heard a scoff from Carlata. He knew it was probably because of Beverly and not Dominic.

“Probably not,” he answered, agitated. He glanced over to see Carlata looking weirdly amused at Dominic. He adds a new target before sending it down the range.

“I suggested,” Beverly continued, amusement practically dripping from her words. “He turn them into a Newton’s cradle, one of those clacking ball things.” He hears Carlata snort and can’t help but smile, a slight amused noise leaving his mouth as he turns to her.

“Now that would have been funny,” he agreed, not bothering to hide his slight amusement at the idea. He focuses on his gun and aiming. He takes another shot only to see it misses the target entirely.

“Are you a weaver or isosceles guy?” Beverly asked, shifting from foot to foot. She raised an eyebrow at Dominic. Dominic paid her no attention as he continued to chatter at Carlata.

“I have a rotator cuff issue,” Will informed her. “So I have to use the Weaver stance.” He shifted his stance a little, still tense. Beverly’s eyes skim over him. She moves forward, placing a hand on his right shoulder.

“You are tight,” she hissed. Will huffed.

“I got stabbed as a cop,” he retorted shortly. Beverly smiled.

“I got stabbed in the third grade,” she told him, humor evident in her voice.

“With a number two pencil,” Dominic snorted. Beverly hummed.

“Thought I was going to get lead poisoning,” she continued wistfully. Will tried to stop from smiling as he heard a soft snort come from his daemon.

“No lead in a pencil,” he said, trying to keep from being too friendly or too rude. “Graphite.”

“Now you tell me,” Beverly teased. Will couldn’t help the amused chuckle that escaped. Beverly reached out, grabbing his left elbow. She moved it out a bit, a confident smirk gracing her lips. “See if that helps.” Will took a deep breath. Before he knew it, he was shooting at the target. He blinked, staring at the target in shock. Beverly smiled as she hit the button, causing the target to return.

“It’s better,” Will admitted, a slight smile gracing his lips. He turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “You come all the way down here to teach me how to shoot?” Beverly shifted her stance, her head leaning back. A smile never leaving her expression.

“No,” she told him. “Jack sent me down here to find out what you know about gardening.” Will blinked. He turned to Carlata, their gazes meeting. He turned back to Beverly just as Carlata turned back to Dominic.

“Gardening?” the two asked in unison.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carlata sat back, her eyes trained on the surrounding daemons as well as her other half. She did not have Dominic around her this time. He was perched on his other half’s shoulder. Beverly was a nice person so Carlata didn’t mind if the two got near Will. She still tensed every time Price’s blackcap daemon, Cyrene, flew a little too close. She resisted the urge to growl at every snide remark between Zeller and Artemis, the woodlark’s words always drifting despite her efforts. Morgan, as always, was stalking as if trying to corral her and them. This caused her to bristle. Many tried to brush off dog daemons as being the same but Carlata knew better. She had tried a few dog forms when her and Will were small for his sake. Dobermans were not meant to herd. They were bred to help tax collectors and oh could Carlata tell that from her brief time as one. The instincts of the form had made her feel sick. She shifted as everyone was ordered back. She moved from her protective perch to sit by Will’s side as the area was cleared. This time she couldn’t manage to fight being swept up along with Will.

He’s so lonely, she thought. Something lodged itself into her heart. What connection are you craving? Isn’t your daemon enough? Something within her knew it wasn’t. Why else would he go to such extremes to have someone to hold? Before she knows it, panic shoots through their bond. She flinches back with a whine as Will gasps and stutters.

“He’s still alive!” Will shouts, pain shoots through their bond. She winces as Will stumbles back. He reached down, a hand tightening in her fur. She looked up at him before looking back into the open grave, noticing a tiny brown spider weakly moving as people swarmed closer. Something tightened in Carlata curled up. Why couldn’t you be happy with her form? She led her other half away. He sat down on the ground next to her, away from all others. She looked at Will, gratitude leaking through her side of the bond. He glances at her in confusion.

“He picks people like him,” she murmured. “Ones who can’t connect to their daemon.” Will nodded, wrapping his arm around her neck. She took her defensive stance again as Will rebalanced himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hannibal hadn’t been prepared for Will and Carlata to storm back into his office, Will giving back his psych eval. Ieva perked up from where she had been laying near his desk to greet the two. Speaking first to Will before she headed towards Carlata. He briefly watched Ieva and Carlata before focusing on Will.

“What did you see?” Hannibal asked. “Out in the field?” Will paused, fidgeting without his daemon to touch. Hannibal couldn’t help but notice Will’s tendency to fidget whenever Carlata wasn’t within arm's length.

“Hobbs,” Will finally admitted. Carlata shot a look at her human. Ieva licked the side of Carlata’s muzzle. Hannibal tried not to tense at the familiarity between their souls.

“An association?” he responded. He felt something briefly slip through his and Ieva’s bond. He glanced over and was met with a disapproving gaze.

“A hallucination,” Will corrects, his voice shaken. “I saw him lying there… in someone else’s grave.” He saw Ieva slip away from Carlata and head over the Will. She sat near him, a copy of what they saw Carlata doing in their first two encounters. Hannibal felt something in him harden at the sight.

“Did you tell Jack what you saw?” slipped from Hannibal’s mouth before he realized it. Anger surged through the bond.

“No,” Will muttered, relaxing the more Ieva stayed near him. Hannibal resisted the urge to let the pleasant feeling transfer through the bond. Ieva would be rather unpleasant if she felt it.

“It’s stress. Not worth reporting,” Hannibal explained. Ieva’s tail flicked. Hannibal ignored her complaint. “The mechanism that distinguishes conscious perceptions from internal perceptions misfired. You displaced the victim of another killer’s crime with what could arguably be considered your victim.” Will’s demeanor shifted for a brief second. Hannibal didn’t have the time to truly catch it. It was gone as soon as he saw it.

“I don’t consider Hobbs my victim,” Will retorted. Ieva rubbed her head against his pants leg.

“What do you consider him?” Hannibal inquired. He couldn’t focus with Ieva being out of line as badly as she was. She was breaking the rules he had laid from the time she had settled.

“Dead,” a raspy voice told him from underneath his desk. Hannibal blinked as he moved back to look under. There sat Carlata. She was laying there, curled perfectly under his desk, no part of her touching his chair or feet. He hadn’t noticed her movement. He looked back at Will and Ieva, knowing they had caused him to miss the movement of the striped hyena.

“Is it harder imagining the thrill somebody else feels killing now that you’ve done it yourself?” Hannibal said after a beat, trying not to let his curiosity seem too strong. It seemed to work as Will looked down.

“Yes,” he whispered. Ieva turned to reach out yet again with a purr. That simple noise prevented Will and Ieva from hearing the noise from under Hannibal’s desk. He tensed as a human-like laugh came from the daemon near his feet. Something in him tightened as he watched Will with his daemon lavishing Will with attention as an off placing laugh left the embodiment of Will’s soul. Hannibal resisted the urge to look away from the sight before him.

“The arms,” he started. Will looked up at him, their gazes meeting briefly. “Why did he leave them exposed? To hold their hands?” He could feel Carlata shift under the desk. “Feel the life leaving their body?

“That’s too esoteric for someone who took the time to bury his victims in a straight line,” Will informed. “He’s more practical.” Hannibal couldn’t help getting up. He heard a huff and could only assume that Carlata had also gotten up.

“He was cultivating them?” He didn't bother to hide his intrigue this time.

“He was keeping them alive,” Will replied, his gaze falling slightly off Hannibal’s shoulder. “Feeding them fluids intravenously.” Hannibal was near Will now.

“Your farmer let his crops die, save for the one who didn’t,” Hannibal answered, a frown evident in his voice though not on his face.

“The one that didn’t died on the way to the hospital,” Will sighed. He rubbed his forehead briefly. Hannibal’s eyes watched the action attentively. “They weren’t crops. They were the fertilizer. The bodies were covered in fungus.”

“Mycelium kill forests over and over, building deeper soil to grow larger and larger trees,” Hannibal spouted. Carlata let out an interested hum. He tensed looking down at the daemon who seemed to be content sitting by his side.

“It’s not about the soil. If it was, why bother keeping the victims alive?” Will asked, letting a little frustration leak through.

“The structure of a fungus mirrors that of the human brain,” Hannibal answered. Carlata perked up from next to him. He could feel her sharp gaze resting on him. “An intricate web of connections.” Will nods, seeming to absorb the fact.

“That fits with what Carlata felt,” he replied. Hannibal’s eyes slide to Carlata in interest. He raised an eyebrow, asking a silent question.

“He craves connection,” she told him before the words could leave Will’s lips. “He can’t feel it with his daemon for some reason. I believe that he finds her form not fitting. He also chooses people who feel the same about their daemons. It’s the only way he feels he, and them, can gain connection.” She glanced at Will and Ieva before returning her gaze to Hannibal. “And based on what you said, he must admire mycelium for being able to connect in ways he can’t.”

“Yours can,” Ieva supplied, her tone light and present. Carlata headed to her, rubbing her nose against Ieva’s. Ieva licked the underneath of Carlata’s head in response.

“Not physically,” Will told Ieva, before focusing his gaze on Hannibal. Hannibal felt something brewing within him as he gazed into those brilliant blue eyes. “Not with reciprocity.” Hannibal watched as not long after that Will and Carlata left. Despite Ieva’s presence next to him, he felt like some part of him had been taken with them. Hannibal took a bit to pull himself back together before he goes to the entrance door to let in his new patient. The red headed woman was in the middle of the waiting room, standing with her back to him. Her daemon sat perched on her shoulder. The duo turned in unison before rambling. Hannibal looked at Ieva, who’s gaze was intense as it stayed on the bird. She was not liking this patient already. It didn’t take him long to realize that the woman was Freddie Lounds. She didn’t bother introducing her daemon. By the time the recording of Will’s session was deleted, Hannibal hadn’t cared to learn the name of the bird. Neither did Ieva if her gaze was any indication. Freddie Lounds didn’t end up being dinner that day as she fled with her parasitic jaeger angrily muttering. Ieva made her anger clear.

“I want to display her,” the mountain lion ranted. “I want to make her worthy of the small fame she is clamoring for. Decorate her and gift her to Carlata.” Hannibal just looked at her.

“You know the rules,” he reminded her. She scoffed.

“I am allowed to pick our dinner,” she growled. He sighed.

“Not the tableau or it’s message,” he stated. Ieva hissed. Hannibal was briefly not in Baltimore. He was in Venice lecturing Ieva on how she had almost got them caught. “I said no. Carlata could probably pick up on your intentions if Will doesn’t. I’m not risking our freedom for your fleeting fancy.” He shook his head. “Not when the rules have kept us protected.” Ieva tensed.

“I am not a pet to collar,” she snapped. “I am your soul, your other half. These restrictions are degrading! Denying me is denying yourself!” Hannibal glared at her, before turning away. Another argument stopped before it could be resolved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ieva lazily watched as Hannibal brought out the food for herself, Jack, and Morgan. He could never resist the chance to feed their preferred meat to a daemon. Ieva couldn’t help but purr at the thought of seeing Carlata eat their food. Another wish, she swooned. Morgan sat next to her. The doberman was fond of Ieva in the same way that Jack was of Hannibal. Unlike her human, Ieva didn’t want to cultivate the relationship. She couldn’t help but wish for Will and Carlata’s presence instead. Ieva’s ears flicked as she paid attention to the human’s conversation instead of Morgan’s polite conversation. All her years with Hannibal they had lived comfortably despite every rule set. She was content with picking the meals and nothing else, wearing collars at high society events. She was willing to act like a glorified house cat if it made him happy but now she felt how suffocating it was. She might as well as be a dog on a leash being dragged around by its owner. Hannibal always said she’d be the reason they were caught. She was too feral, that she needed strict guidelines to keep her in line. Now, the act didn't feel like protection. It felt like a cage slowly closing around her. She tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Jack.

“You think Will’s a broken pony?” Jack asked, his voice concerned and serious. Ieva felt a growl rise in her throat. Hannibal cut her a look. She managed to shut it down in time before Jack heard it but Morgan’s gaze was heavy as it landed on her.

“Everything okay?” Morgan inquired. Ieva’s tail flicked as she gazed at the doberman.

“Why of course,” she answered. “Will is not broken and neither is Carlata.” Morgan stared at her before huffing, turning back to her food.

“Carlata has always been off,” Morgan commented. “It doesn’t help that her form is a hyena.” Ieva felt her lips curl briefly, suddenly thankful that Morgan was not looking at her. “You know what they signify?”

“Insanity is the most popular significance,” Ieva replied, her voice hard. “Especially for striped hyenas. In some cultures, they were revered for they were symbols of love and fertility. There are many tales of them being believed to be monsters.” Morgan hummed.

“What do you think that says about them?” the doberman responded. Her gaze settled on the mountain lion. “That’s one of your specialties, is it not?” Ieva’s gaze hardened as she looked Morgan in the eyes.

“I think,” Ieva stated, her voice soft and unyielding. “Carlata bears the brunt of society's expectations and Will does as well. Every society needs someone to blame and I think Carlata has the perfect form for such treatment. Will supports her because of this and she does the same back.” She turns back to her food, ignoring the confused look on Morgan’s face. “Insanity is a relative term as well as monster.” Carlata kept herself quiet for the rest of the evening, only relaxing when the Crawford’s were gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will watched as Price and Zeller crowded around the body. They were decked in full gear while Will stood there with just gloves. He was closer than usual due to the fact Cyrene and Artemis were perched somewhere above them. Carlata was relaxed somewhat about a foot behind him. He knew she’d be better if Beverly and Dominic were in the room.

“What has he been soaking in?” Will asked, his tone rough. Price looked up at him as Cyrene sang a small song from above.

“A highly concentrated mixture of hardwoods, shredded newspaper, and pig poop,” Price informed him, a gleeful tint to his words. “Perfect for growing mushrooms and other fungi.”

“Wasn’t the mushrooms,” Zeller cut in. Will glanced briefly towards him as Price turned completely to him. “What killed all of them was kidney failure.” Zeller backed up and covered the body. Will glanced briefly towards the othered covered bodies. Beverly came rushing in, Dominic making a small noise upon noticing Will and Carlata.

“Dextrose in all of the catheters,” Beverly told them, her voice a little quick. She barely seemed to notice her daemon climbing down to run to Carlata. Will vaguely noticed Carlata losing the last bit of tension she had. “He probably used some kind of dialysis or peristaltic to pump fluids after the circulatory systems broke down.”

“Force feeding them sugar,” Will commented, his voice sounding far away to himself. He was vaguely aware of Price and Zeller arguing. Suddenly, something clicks. “Alcoholics aren’t the only ones with compromised endocrine systems.” He looked around at everyone. “They all died of kidney failure?” He saw brief nods from Price and Zeller, almost subconsciously. He looked at Carlata. “Death by diabetic ketoacidosis?” The same spark of realization thrived in her eyes.

“Did you know they were diabetics?” Beverly turned to Zeller. Zeller scoffed.

“We don’t know they’re diabetics,” he pushed. Will huffed.

“They’re all diabetics,” he snapped. Carlata growled towards Zeller as she moved to be by Will’s side. Dominic climbed back up to Beverly’s shoulder. “He induces a coma and puts them in the ground.” He heard a happy noise from Beverly’s direction. A glance showed him Dominics tail swishing and Beverly suppressing a smile.

“How is he inducing comas?” she asked, Dominic paying rapt attention.

“He changes their medication,” Will continued, his brain going faster than he can articulate. “He’s a doctor or a pharmacist or works somewhere in medical services.” He felt himself reach down to play with Carlata’s fur.

“He buries them, feeds them sugar to keep them alive long enough for the circulatory systems to soak it up,” she summarized, her voice distant.

“So he can feed his mushrooms,” Price continued, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“We dug up his mushroom garden,” Zeller finished, the shock evident in his face and voice.

“He’ll want to grow a new one,” Will informed them. Carlata licked Will’s hand.

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long to find Eldon Stammets. Before Will and Carlata knew it, they were following a SWAT team in swarming into a store. Everyone was loud and Jack and Morgan were at their top volume as they questioned the pharmacists and their daemons. Will and Carlata were much quieter as they followed. They didn’t react until the pharmacist behind the counter revealed that Stammets' car was still in the parking lot. Gretchen Speck was saved. Once she was in the safe care of medical professionals, Will and Carlata calmed. Jack and Morgan ranted on how they were going to catch Stammets. Price inched near them, Cyrene perched on his shoulder. They were guided inside to Stammets' work station. Jack, Beverly, Price, and Zeller gathered in front of the computer screen. Will hung back, petting Carlata.

“She goes into a lot of detail,” Beverly commented, her voice conveying concern. Dominic’s tail swished anxiously, sweeping and flicking her hair. It didn’t take long for Jack and Morgan to storm off. As Price, Zeller, and their daemons wandered off, Beverly came up to Will. Dominic didn’t leave his spot but his gaze was on Carlata.

“Are you going to ask me if I’m okay?” Will drawled. Beverly shook her head, Dominic’s nose twitching.

“Just if you’re gonna sue for libel,” she joked, a forced smile gracing her lips. Carlata hummed as Will smiled. Dominic started rubbing his paws together. Carlata twitched.

“Dominic,” Carlata started. Dominic froze. Beverly took a step back, eyes wide. Will knew it was because she spoke at all, the fact it was at a normal speaking volume making it more shocking. No other words left the hyena’s lips before Beverly and Dominic left. Will watched their departure plainly. Carlata hummed as she headed back towards the front of the store. Will chuckled as he followed her. An interesting development, he thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t take much for Will and Carlata to decide to sleep in Abigail Hobbs’ hospital room. Half the time they slept there, Hannibal and Ieva would appear there as well. The two always seemed to get better sleep around the other two. Will thought it funny that being near a killer and their soul allowed them the best sleep they’ve had in years. Carlata had laughed that haunting laugh at the thought. He had felt her joy at the acknowledgement. Some part of him hated that he was slowly starting to see what Carlata had attached to. They were something that numbed all the emotions that constantly bombarded them. Shoving his thoughts aside, Will managed to curl up on the small couch in the room, Carlata neatly tucked between his arms. They slipped into sleep. Will dreamed off a stag of impossibly dark, void-full fur and feathers. He had followed it, feeling the same dulled connection he feels when around Hannibal and Ieva. He accepted the encroaching darkness at the end of the hall, hoping to feel nothing but the bond.

~~~~~

Carlata was the first to wake up of the two. She heard the words that floated in the air with the familiar lilt of Dr. Bloom. She opened her eyes, spotting the woman sitting at the end of Abigail’s bed. She felt the possessiveness creep up her very being. That human and her daemon belonged to Carlata, Will, Ieva, and Hannibal. That little chick that still hadn’t settled was her hatchling. She’d only share that hatchling with one other pair. Dr. Bloom and Lucien were nowhere near such intimacy. Carlata raised her head, biting back the growl in favor of stretching. She missed Will’s warmth already, having accidentally dislodged his arms from around. Lucien spotted her from where he was curled up next to Dr. Bloom’s feet. He got up and slinked his way to her. She felt the urge to bare her teeth at the small wild cat. It was said that the best matches were between people of similar daemon forms. She knew that wasn’t true as she gazed upon the caracal. Their daemon forms were more similar than first appeared and she despised him. Most believed hyenas were more closely related to dogs than cats when the opposite was true. Though most would say that their fur coat marking showed their incompatibility, she knew all of that was worthless information. Nothing about a daemon’s form or fur coating made them more compatible with someone else’s. Another sin that Lucien and Alana fell prey to.

She became aware of how close Lucien was to her and Will abruptly as her thoughts derailed from the sudden surge of pity and concern. She snarled at him silently, trying to buy her human a little more sleep. Lucien took a couple steps back, his core emotions still rippling off him like tsunami waves. Days like this made her wanna use the bone crushing jaws her form gave her. She showed nothing of her bloodthirsty urge as she glared at him in warning. Once Will awoke, she dropped down. She flashed her teeth again as Lucien took a step toward her. The familiar surge of pity and concern was laced with fear. Her mane raised before she realized it. She felt something soothing being pushed by Will through their bond. She wanted to close her eyes, shut the ongoing bombardment from her mind but she couldn’t leave Will defenseless. She had learned quickly what happens when she leaves her other half alone and she refused to do so again. Especially not with Dr. Bloom. Her human liked the woman but Carlata knew better with the caracal that treaded behind the woman. She was only vaguely aware their humans were speaking.

“You know,” Lucien remarked, his voice as it always was to her, too much. “I’m surprised how much quieter you’ve gotten with your defenses. I’m proud of you.” Carlata huffed, a growl wanting to be released. “It seems Ieva is a good therapist for you.” A flash of something came from the caracal, something that Carlata only felt from Will for years and Ieva much more recently. Carlata felt anger flare within, her mane rising without thought. She hadn’t realized she was standing at her full length, ready for a fight until she felt the wave of concern and fear slam into her. She blinked, trying to get her form back under control. It had been so long since she truly felt anger instead of playing it that she was struggling to gain control again. A hand reached out. It landed on her head before it began rubbing her ears. She felt the tension within her lessen. She took a few steps to make it easier for her human to pet her. She finally glanced at Dr. Bloom after a few moments. The woman was horrified. Carlata didn’t need to have an empathy disorder to know that. Carlata closed her eyes for once in a long time, allowing Will to reel her back for the first time in ages.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will sighed as he waited in the elevator after getting breakfast in the hospital cafeteria. It had been suffocated despite how early it was. He glanced at Carlata. She sat next to him, her gaze focused on the changing numbers on the elevator screen. He hadn’t gotten much of a chance to speak to her about the jealousy and possessiveness that had ripped through her last night, almost leading to Lucien being attacked. He had asked her softly during breakfast but she had just growled, a sign she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. He shook his head. The elevator door opened. He blinked as he stepped out and his phone rang. He answered it, a brief glance at Carlata.

“Hello,” he responded blandly. Carlata hummed.

“Stammets knows about Abigail Hobbs,” Jack replied. Will felt the fear course through him. He was vaguely aware of Carlata snarling, her mane rising. He hung up without a second thought, running to Abigail’s room in a frenzy. He stopped briefly at the door and pulled out his gun before storming into the room. Will’s mind raced as he took in the empty room. They’re gone, he hissed. They’re gone, They’re gone, They’re gone. Will was only vaguely aware of snapping at the nurse before he took off down the stairs. He bolted down the stairs and when he saw Stammets, something settled within him. He raised his gun just as Carlata leaped forward. Stammets froze as his mountain cottontail gave a cry in fear. Will resisted the urge to let his amusement come through.

“Back away from her and drop the gun, Stammets,” Will stated calmly. “Or my daemon snaps her jaws closed.” Stammets swallowed as he backed away from the gurney, his hands raised as his back hit the wall. Will moved slowly as he made his way past their daemons. He settled in between Abigail and Stammets. He reached back to check her pulse and was satisfied to feel it pulsing normal. His hand came back to his gun.

“Please,” Stammets whispered. “Don’t hurt April.” Will raised an eyebrow. So that’s her name. Will resisted the urge to laugh at the man. He glanced briefly at Carlata. Her gaze was on him. The rabbit was tense in her mouth. She tightened her grip slightly. April made a pitiful noise as Will’s eyes slid back to the rabbit’s human.

“What were you going to do with her?” Will asked, his voice gruff. Stammets flinched. Stammets glanced at his daemon.

“We evolved from mycelium,” he began quietly. He cleared his throat. “Only reintroducing her to the concept.” Will couldn’t help the flash of disgust rippling across his face.

“By burying her alive?” he scoffed. Stammets paled, ducking his head slightly.

“Opisthokontum,” he stammered. “A super kingdom of animalia and fungi together.” He paused as if in thought. “That journalist said you understood me.” Will didn’t react to the man’s plea.

“I don’t,” Will told him, his eyes cold. His grip on his gun tightened. He knew instinctively that Carlata’s jaw did the same. Stammets winced. He must be feeling the pressure in his chest, Will mused.

“You would have,” Stammets whined. He took a step forward. Will glanced briefly at his feet. “Walk into a field of mycelium, they know you’re there.” Stammets took another step forward. “Their spores reach for you when you pass by. I know who you’re reaching for.” He took one last step. “You should have let me plant her. You would have found her in a field where she could finally reach back.” Will watched Stammets for a moment longer. Will looked at Carlata. He knew at that moment what to do. His gaze slid back onto Stammets. Will’s fingers pulled the trigger at the same time Carlata snapped her mouth shut. Stammets clutched his chest, whether from the pain of his daemon being killed or from the shot Will didn’t know. Will turned away from the dead man and Dust. Carlata came with him to crowd Abigail and her daemon’s gurney. Carlata stiffened as she raised up to check the gurney. Will couldn’t help but suck in his breath. Abigail’s daemon was currently a sparrow. It was the first form the two had seen that wasn’t predatory. Sure, sparrows hunted insects but sparrows were prey to bigger birds. Will was only vaguely aware of the clamoring of security coming to check out the gunshot. He stood there and knew in that second that he refused to allow her to be anyone’s prey again. He glanced at Carlata. She shook her head as backup arrived to access the scene. Her daemon isn’t settled, he repeated to himself. It was the only comfort he could bring himself as personnel came to bring Abigail back to her room. When Jack arrived asking what happened, Will forced himself to appear shaken.

“Carlata ran ahead and pinned his daemon under her paw,” Will lied easily. He reached down to grip Carlata’s mane. She leaned heavily against his leg, pretending to need his comfort. “I got him to back away and drop his gun with that. Before I knew it, he was trying to rush me and I-” He gulped, turning his head away for a second. He licked his lips as he brought his gaze back to Jack’s shoulder. “I shot him.” Will shook his head, turning his gaze downwards. Jack dismissed him shortly afterward. Will and Carlata knew exactly where to go from here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hannibal was startled by the glee that shot through the bond as an unexpected knock came from his office door. He shot a hard look at Ieva, who wasn’t bothering to hide how overjoyed she was. He opened the door and was greeted with the sight of Will and Carlata Graham. Will slipped past him, not bothering to wait for Hannibal’s greeting. Hannibal watched as Will dashed towards an armchair. Anything Hannibal wanted to say was stopped by Ieva.

“Hello, Will,” Ieva greeted, the mountain lion walking towards the man. He flashed a brief but sincere smile.

“Hey, Ieva,” Will replied. Hannibal tried not to tense at the blatant disregard for etiquette and social convention by Will and Ieva. “How was today?” Ieva’s lips curled.

“Tedious,” she huffed, her tail flicking. Hannibal was so distracted by the two he hadn’t noticed Carlata till he felt a pressure on his chest. He blinked, drawing his gaze away from Will and Ieva just as Will opened his mouth to reply. Hannibal looked down and was met with Carlata’s gaze. He saw her front paws planted on the front of his suit. She tilted her head. Hannibal blinked a slow blink. She returned it. She seemed satisfied after staring into his eyes for a few beats, letting their other halves’ conversation fill the silence between them. She closed her eyes, tucking her head down. She rested the top of her head against his chest, softly adding pressure. He watched as she stayed that way for a second longer before returning to her original position. He saw something in her eyes.

“Hello, Carlata,” Hannibal greeted. The striped hyena’s ears perked up. Her eyes sparkled. A pleased whine escaped the daemon in front of him. Ah, he realized as she stepped back and off him. She wanted me to greet her. It felt weird to speak to a daemon that wasn’t his. He tried not to think much about it as she followed him to sit in the chair opposite of Will. Carlata went and laid in the middle of the space between the chairs, Ieva soon joining her. They laid together, almost wrapped into each other. If it wasn’t for the coat coloring, Hannibal would be unable to tell where one began and the other ended. Hannibal cleared his throat, Will’s cool gaze settled on him. “When you shot Eldon Stammets, who was it that you saw?”

“I didn’t see Hobbs,” Will answered evenly. Hannibal nodded.

“Then it’s not Hobbs’ ghost that’s haunting you, is it?” Hannibal replied, his voice soft and solid. “It’s the inevitability of there being a man so bad that killing him felt good.” Something flashed across Will’s face. A soft, amused huff came from the daemon pile. Hannibal’s gaze slid back to Will.

“Killing Hobbs felt just,” Will declared quietly but no less powerful. Hannibal felt something within shift. He felt almost breathless. Is this what Ieva’s been feeling?

“Which is why you’re here,” Hannibal forced himself to say. It was hard for him to do so. “To prove that sprig of zest you feel is from saving Abigail, not killing her dad.”

“I didn’t feel a sprig of zest when I shot Eldon Stammets,” Will stated. Hannibal blinked. He hadn’t expected that.

“How did you feel, Will?” Hannibal inquired. Will leaned back deeper into the chair. He seemed to think about his words for a moment, before leaning forward.

“I felt the content satisfaction one gets from finishing a task,” he explained, his voice wistful for a brief moment. Hannibal resisted the urge to gasp at the striking comparison. Suddenly, it seemed like all past anxiety and concerns came back to Will. He wiped his face with hands. “I should have stuck to fixing boat motors in Louisiana.”

“A boat engine is a machine,” Hannibal choked out, though it didn’t come out sounding as such. “A predictable problem, easy to solve. You fail, there’s a paddle. Where was your paddle with Hobbs?” Hannibal watched as a brief flash of what looked like irritation flashed across Will’s face.

“You’re supposed to be my paddle,” Will reminded him. Hannibal felt his lips curl upward briefly.

“I am,” Hannibal reassured. He leaned forward. “It wasn’t the act of killing Hobbs that got you down, was it? Did you really feel so bad because killing him felt so good?” Hannibal paused, something briefly clicking. “Or was it satisfying like Stammets?” Will seemed to hesitate.

“I liked killing Hobbs,” Will admitted, his voice slightly shaking. Hannibal knew there was something more. He could see it. However, he doubted he’d get it out of Will right now. He tucked the information away to uncover another time.

“Killing must feel good to God, too,” Hannibal mumbled, making his voice low and reassuring. “He does it all the time, and are we not created in his image?” Will seemed to straighten slightly, his gaze snapping so quickly and startling to Hannibal’s.

“Depends who you ask,” Will whispered, his gaze burrowing into Hannibal’s mind. Hannibal tried his best not to be distracted by the striking sight.

“God’s terrific,” Hannibal continued. “He dropped a church roof on thirty-four of his worshippers last Wednesday night in Texas, while they sang a hymn.” Something like affection seeped into that blue gaze for a split second. Hannibal felt shaken by the sight. It disappeared so quickly that Hannibal almost thought he had been mistaken. Almost.

“Did God feel good about that?” Will asked, his voice laced with curiosity. Hannibal smiled.

“He felt powerful,” Hannibal answered. Will tilted his head. Hannibal felt satisfaction swell within him. Oh, he knew he was going to have a fun time playing Will as he saw fit. Little did he know, Will was already plotting on how to keep him.

Chapter Text

Abigail took a deep breath as she readied her gun. She felt Ethan perched on her left shoulder, currently possessing the form of a northern white-crowned shrike. She was aware of her father’s heavy gaze, Brielle’s own heavy gaze settles on the doe in front of the pair. Abigail tried not to flinch as she remembered Ethan’s brief adventures as different types of stags. The American foxhound’s gaze still haunted Abigail and Ethan some nights. Abigail felt guilty as she pulled the trigger, killing the doe. Ethan’s feathers raised at the loud noise. As her father and his daemon ran to go get the doe, all Abigail thought was I’m sorry, one of us had to die. She smiled and caught up before her father or Brielle noticed. Abigail was startled to suddenly find herself in the cabin, having just helped her father put the dead doe on the table. She shook her head. He always made her help with the does. She thought nothing of it as she began gutting the doe, letting her left hand intertwine in the doe’s fur. She froze suddenly. Dread seeped into her. She blinked and the doe was gone. There, on the table was a girl. She started to choke, as if the air itself wanted her dead. No, no, no, no, I never touched them, she screamed, clutching her throat. Ethan started floundering, shifting constantly between forms.

Abigail Hobbs woke up abruptly. The world before her was blurry as she tried to breathe. She blinked rapidly, her eyes trying to catch every inch of the room before her. As soon as her eyes focused, she started trying to claw all the tubes and wires off her. She was only vaguely aware of Ethan crying at her to stop. She finally calmed as Ethan settled in her lap and nurses rushed in. She looked down at Ethan confused at first. This form was different. He was about average for a bird. He was bigger than what she was used to however. This was no shrike. He was somewhere between the size of a robin and a mourning dove. His beak, eyes, and talons gave away his bird of prey status. His plumage consisted of a cool grey and a red that reminded her of blood. Abigail froze as she noticed the plumage on his chest. It started off a red then slowly turned white, as if there was actual blood spilled from his throat and dried. It almost looked stained. She continued to stare at him as she realized something that changes everybody’s life. This was the defining moment of a person’s life. Her daemon had settled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carlata was many things. Most of which, people didn’t associate her with. This was mainly due to her form. That’s why when she and Will stumbled out of the house, their dogs running pass to go play and relieve themselves, and she noticed Alana and Lucien Bloom, she couldn’t help but lunge forward, putting herself between the two and her pack the best she could. Her mane raised. Her lips curled. A nasty growl left her. This was her den and those dogs were like cubs to her. Alana had winced, Lucien giving a pitiful meowl.

“Morning,” Alana called, her voice shaky. Despite this, she managed to put a cheery tone to it.

“I didn’t hear you drive up,” Will commented, shooting a look at Carlata. She forced herself to move away from her placement.

“Hybrid,” Alana answered the unasked question. “Great car for stalking.” Carlata let out one last growl as she settled herself next to her human. Alana gave a forced smile as she glanced down at Lucien. The caracal briefly leaned against his human’s leg. Carlata resisted the urge to laugh at the emotions crashing against her mind like a pestering tide.

“I’m compelled to go cover myself,” Will told Alana. Carlata agreed. He was too vulnerable like this. She stayed in her position as Will took a few steps back.

“I have brothers,” the woman replied, trying to reassure them. Carlata wanted to snap at her. That’s not the point, she wanted to scream at the woman and her daemon. This is our den. She knew caracals had dens too. She knew most daemons didn’t give into their forms’ uges but territory was something even humans understood.

“I’ll put a robe on all the same,” Will responded, pausing at the door. “Do you want a cup of coffee? And more importantly, why are you here?” Carlata allowed her ears to pitch forward when her other half asked the last question. Alana reached down to scratch Lucien’s ears.

“Yes,” she said. “And Abigail Hobbs woke up.” Carlata relaxed, leaving her offensive stance. She felt Will pause.

“You know how to bury the lead,” he gasped. Carlata had to agree. She was willing to put up with their invasion now that she had this information, however.

“Want me to get you a cup of coffee?” Alana asked as she walked towards them. Lucien trotted silently next to her.

“No,” Will replied. Carlata felt the energy coursing between them, “I want to get my coat.” She glanced at him. “And change.” She twitched her ear.

“Let's have a cup of coffee,” Alana continued. Lucien gave an approving purr. Carlata tensed. She didn’t like that sound. Not from anyone but one. “Or tea. Maybe a nice soothing tea.”

Carlata had been beyond angry as Alana and Lucien wandered their den. Lucien had managed to sit near her as their humans chatted. She kept her gaze on the woman. She felt everything about them setting her hairs on end. Alana’s pity and concern. Lucien’s concern and guilt.

“I apologize,” Lucien whispered to Carlata. The striped hyena’s only reaction was a flick of her ear. The caracal was pleased to receive any response. “I didn't realize that you attached to the den instinct of your form.” Carlata stayed silent, her gaze never leaving the humans. “Are the strays for you?” Carlata’s eyes snapped towards the caracal, glinting with a challenge. Lucien seemed to realize that she was angry.

“There is no shame in that, Carlata,” Lucien reassured. The striped hyena silently snarled. “Many canid daemons take on plenty of pets to help themselves feel more comfortable. Even some lion daemons do it.”

“Feliformia,” snapped Carlata. She felt the room still. A quick glance told her that Alana Bloom was staring at her in astonishment and fear as Will focused on the ringing phone.

“What?” Lucien murmured. Carlata felt the anger pulsing through her again, the anger from that night in the hospital.

“I belong to Feliformia,” she growled. “It’s the order for feline-like carnivores.” She felt as much as she saw the fear in the caracal. Lucien took a step back. “I am not a dog.” Carlata moved away, settling under Will’s chair after the outburst. She wished she didn't know what caused her outburst. She had tried every dog breed they had ever seen or heard of when they were younger. She remembered the suffocating feeling of the form and its nature. She had done it for him and she had failed to find one that she could fake comfortability with. She wished she could have been one. Something soft and domestic to put his mind and others at ease, to soften the constant onslaught of emotions and thoughts. Her muzzle felt tense. She hadn’t realized how much power she had put into keeping it shut. She couldn’t even bring herself to rise to Alana’s insult other than a growl. Carlata didn’t relax until she saw the pair’s car disappear down the driveway. Will glanced at her, concern coming off him through the bond.

“Ready for that discussion?” he asked. She huffed, but glanced up at him. She turned away from the window as she went to get into the bed. She sat and focused on her other half again.

“Lucien wants Ieva,” she drawled. Will tensed. She watched him.

“Alana wants Hannibal,” he repeated slowly. She nodded. She felt the anger pulse through the bond. She laughed, loud and uncontrolled. Will smiled. Finally, she sighed. He finally wants her gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abigail would be lying if she said she wasn’t getting antsy with the lack of information that she was being given. When she finally got a chance to be alone, she had relaxed the best she could. Ethan whispered to her what he had noticed about the nurses that she might have missed. She couldn’t help but smile as she pretended to read a book that had been left by her bedside table. Abigail had always heard that daemons could remember things from comas but Ethan had seemed confused when she asked him about it.

“I think I remember shifting a lot,” he had whispered. He cocked his head. “And some voices. Don’t remember what they said though.” Abigail had sighed, disappointed. She knew it was her own fault for believing a trope from TV had any actual factual significance. Their conversation was cut short by someone struggling to open the door to her room. Ethan snapped his beak shut and nestled against the part of her neck that she had been cut. She stared as the woman juggled multiple bags while coming in, a caracal following closely behind. Abigail suddenly missed Marissa. Meyer had been a caracal for a short while. Ethan nudged her jaw with his beak. It made Abigail snap out of her nostalgia. The woman’s eyes were on Abigail but constantly slid down to Ethan. Abigail tensed. The woman noticed.

“Hi,” the woman greeted, her caracal purring softly under her. “I’m Alana Bloom. This is Lucien.” Ethan ruffled his tail feathers, letting some weird familiar feeling seep through the bond. So they visited, Abigail cataloged. Bloom started unloading the contents of the bags.

“Are you a doctor?” Abigail asked, making her voice a little shaky and muddled. Ethan made his wings twitch slightly. She almost smiled.

“Not medicine,” Bloom answered, giving a soft smile. Her expression was open. “I’m a psychiatrist.” Abigail furrowed her brows.

“What do you specialize in?” she replied, trying to continue her charade of being a horrified and confused teen. She was afraid a little too much interest leaked through. Bloom’s expression shifted slightly. Lucien’s gaze zeroed in on Ethan.

“Among other things, family trauma,” Bloom told her. Bloom’s eyes were nice, polite. Abigail wanted to rile her up, get her angry enough that such a fake look would disappear. She knew that wasn’t a good idea.

“I asked the nurses if my parents were dead and they wouldn’t tell me,” regaled Abigail to Dr. Bloom. She knew it was her best shot to make the woman feel pity and sympathy for her. “Said I had to wait for you.” Something rippled through the woman. The caracal gave a wounded noise. Abigail stopped herself from smirking. She had hit her mark.

“I’m sorry you had to wait,” Dr. Bloom whispered, her voice soaked in guilt and sorrow.

“I know they’re dead,” Abigail admitted. The woman’s expression shifted slightly. So did her eyes. Abigail made her chin tremble with emotion. She faked reining in her tears. “Who buried them?” She made her voice shake slightly, allowing her eyes to water.

“They haven’t been buried,” Dr. Bloom informed her. Abigail snapped her eyes to the woman’s.

“Don’t you think they should be?” Abigail responded, a little of her anger leaking in. She mentally cursed herself.

“Your mother was cremated per the instructions in her living will,” Dr. Bloom said. Abigail tried to cover her scoff as a clearing of her throat.

“And my dad?” she whispered. Dr. Bloom stared at her.

“Your father is more complicated,” Dr. Bloom stated softly. Abigail took in the woman’s body language.

“Because he was crazy?” Abigail prodded. She was satisfied to see the woman’s reaction.

“Nurses said you didn’t remember,” Dr. Bloom commented, glancing at her caracal briefly.

“I remember,” Abigail admitted. Ethan nudged her jaw again. “I just didn’t want to talk to them about it.” Abigail paused in thought. Ethan nipped on her earlobe. “I want to sell the house.” The declaration came out before she knew it. She looked Dr. Bloom in the eye. “I guess it’s mine now. I can use the money for college, get an apartment.” Dr. Bloom started to study her, sneaking glances at Ethan. Before she knew it, she was talking to Dr. Bloom about the bags and making jokes about what it could possibly mean about the psychiatrist. Abigail watched as the psychiatrist got up as if to leave.

“I guess I’ll leave,” Dr. Bloom sighed, her caracal sat next to her ankles. “But before I go, what is your daemon’s name?” Abigail and Ethan tensed. “No one that was interviewed knew. It wasn’t on any official paperwork either. Same with your parents.” Abigail knew precisely why. Her parents had been raised very traditionally. You didn’t share your daemon’s name unless asked specifically to. Paperwork didn’t make it a necessity to list your daemon’s name so her parents didn’t do it.

“Dad’s was Brielle,” Abigail answered after a few beats of silence. She reached up to pet Ethan’s wing. “Mom’s was Tristan. Mine is Ethan.” Abigail couldn’t help but think of the American foxhound and gray fox. Dr. Bloom and Lucien left shortly afterward. Abigail frowned now that she and Ethan were alone.

“You have to be more careful, Abby,” Ethan hissed. Abigail hummed. “Luckily, she wasn’t the most prominent voice I remember.” Abigail’s eyebrows furrowed. She didn’t know why so many people visited her while she was in a coma. At least Dr. Bloom made sense because she was a psychiatrist. Abigail decided she couldn’t wait to see who came to visit her while she was unconscious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hannibal thought nothing of it when he settled himself down in Jack Crawford’s office. There was another chair across from the desk, next to the chair Hannibal sat in. Hannibal would be lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping that Will Graham would come in soon to take the seat. Instead, Alana Bloom walked into the office. Hannibal greeted her, vaguely aware of Ieva briefly, but politely, greeting Lucien. Hannibal wasn’t surprised the meeting began with Alana and Jack arguing about Abigail Hobbs. He couldn’t help but think of the girl as she was the literal conversation matter. He remembered the girl being so pale and lifeless, attached to so many machines and wires. The only liveliness in the room had been Will and Carlata even though they were mostly silent. Hannibal detested the fact that just seeing them seemed to change the room. Ieva adored it. He snuck a glance at Ieva and was startled. Ieva was moving away from Lucien. The caracal was trying to talk and play with the mountain lion. Ieva did not appreciate it. He could feel her annoyance and irritation fluttering through the bond. He knew Alana had liked him for a long time and that their similar daemons had only reinforced it, but he had never really noticed how forceful Lucien was with Ieva before. Hannibal focused back on the argument.

“You can’t ask her right now,” Alana pushed. Her anger painted all over her face. “We have to create a safe place for her first or you won’t get any answers.” Hannibal felt a spark of something come from Ieva. He glanced and saw his mountain lion giving the caracal a death glare. The caracal had apparently abandoned pushing itself on Ieva and moved to back up his human by arguing with Morgan. The doberman didn’t seem happy about the shift. Hannibal had to admit he was surprised by Alana. He thought Abigail Hobbs’ mental state would’ve been her forefront concern, not answers for Jack Crawford.

“I respect your sympathy for her, Doctor Bloom,” Jack continued, plowing through opposing views like always. Hannibal shifted his legs slightly. Alana glared at Jack. “One day I hope you’ll respect my lack of it.” Hannibal wanted to laugh.

“I have some appreciation,” Alana admitted through gritted teeth. Hannibal felt the urge to smile. That’s why you are focused on answers, not her mental health, he realized. A quick glance told him that Ieva was one second away from tearing into Lucien and Morgan. Hannibal wondered what they were discussing.

“Only body we found is the one Hobbs didn’t eat,” Jack reminded them. “7 bodies. 7 girls.”

“7 sisters, in Abigail’s mind,” Hannibal said, interjecting himself into the argument for the first time. Jack and Alana’s gazes shifted to him. “When she learns of her father’s crimes.”

“May already know about them,” Jack scowled. “Her DNA’s all over his slaughterhouse.”

“You really think Abigail helped her father kill those girls?” Alana gaped. Hannibal heard Lucien full on hiss at Morgan. Jack grimaced.

“It is a possibility that needs to be ruled out,” Jack stated firmly. Ieva growled. Hannibal didn’t miss the startled expressions that set in on the other two human’s faces when they heard the noise. Hannibal shot Ieva a look. She huffed before removing herself from the other daemons to lay under his chair. He gave a polite, apologetic smile to Alana and Jack. Jack cleared his throat, composing himself. “If she didn’t help her father, she may know who did.” Hannibal nodded before turning his attention to Alana.

“How was Abigail? When you saw her?” he asked, getting his voice low. It didn’t matter since the room was quiet and they were close together. Alana’s gaze became slightly distanced.

“Surprisingly practical,” she answered, not letting any judgment leak in. Jack sat up. Morgan’s posture straightened.

“Surprisingly practical?” he repeated. Hannibal couldn’t help the soft incredulous scoff that left his lips.

“I would suggest that she can be practical without being a murderer,” Hannibal supplied, not bothering to hide his disbelief at Jack’s position.

“I think she’s hiding something,” Alana told them. A brief hiss came from under Hannibal’s chair. Lucien shifted slightly. Morgan looked away.

“It may simply be trauma,” Hannibal sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know why he was getting so defensive of Abigail. He knew why Ieva was.

“Yes,” Alana agreed. Hannibal felt the knot inside his chest lessen. “Could also be more.” And there it was again. “She has a penchant for manipulation, withheld information to gain information. She demonstrated only enough emotions to prove she had them.” Hannibal could practically feel a headache coming on. What did I sign myself up for?

“Appreciating my lack of sympathy?” Jack retorted. Alana’s eyes were calculated as she focused on Jack.

“Providing psychological evaluation,” she responded. Morgan huffed.

“You said it may be more than trauma,” Hannibal pushed. “Yet you question her involvement in the murders her father committed.” Alana’s gaze snapped to him.

“What I’m questioning,” she reiterated sharply, “Is her state of mind.” Jack hummed as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk.

“I want Will Graham to talk to her,” he said after a beat of silence. Alana flinched. Hannibal straightened in interest. He could barely hear Ieva’s tiny purr over Lucien’s hiss and Morgan’s responding bark.

“Jack,” Alana snapped. “Not yet.”

“Doctor Bloom,” Jack told her slowly. “You’re not Will’s psychiatrist. Doctor Lecter is.” Hannibal allowed the pride to settle in his chest as they wrapped up their conversation. Hannibal thought nothing as he walked out of the office, Ieva padding along behind him. He was almost to the elevator when he heard Alana call him. He turned and saw her gaze trying to burrow into him.

“Hannibal,” she started. “You can’t seriously think this is a good idea.” Hannibal hummed, taking her in.

“It doesn’t matter if I think it’s a good idea,” he replied evenly. Ieva’s tail flicked. “Jack Crawford gets what he wants in the end. I just saved myself from a fight.” Alana huffed. Lucien moved forward to nudge Ieva. Ieva moved away before the caracal made contact. Alana frowned as Lucien let out a pitiful meowl.

“Are you okay?” Alana asked, her voice laced with concern. Her brows were furrowed. She reached out and set a hand on his arm. While Hannibal had never cared before, he suddenly wanted to rip his arm out of her grasp. It felt wrong. “Ieva has been behaving oddly.” Hannibal flashed what he knew looked like a sincere smile.

“Thank you for asking, but I’m fine,” he reassured her. Ieva’s tail flicked again. “We are just concerned about Abigail and Jack’s crusade to persecute her for her father’s crimes.” Alana let her hand fall off his arm.

“It’s a possibility,” she reminded him. He nodded.

“Yes,” Hannibal agreed. “A slim possibility that Will thinks is impossible. Any DNA of her’s found in the cabin can be explained from hunting deer.” Alana’s eyes widened.

“You’re taking Will’s views of Abigail into account?” she gawked. Hannibal gave a nod and a polite smile. Ieva’s hackles rose.

“He’s a brilliant profiler, Alana,” he reminded her. She nodded, something tucking itself out of his sight. They parted not long after that. Hannibal didn’t know what to do with the possessive anger that was making its way through his veins. They were halfway home when the anger finally started to be released via Ieva.

"I don't like them," Ieva growled, her silence finally broken. The mountain lion's lips curled back into a snarl. "Talking about her as if she is a web article they simply need to read in order to have the answer to their questions."

"At least Alana cares as well," Hannibal reminded her. He tried to focus on the road as the anger flared in their bond. "She simply holds reservation due to Abigail’s apparent manipulation skills." Ieva's tail flicked.

"She was surprised we listened to Will," she snapped. Hannibal resisted the urge to wince. He couldn't justify that and she knew it. He didn't understand how they could rave about his powers of observation and then ignore his insights but Hannibal had noticed it was a recurring theme.

"We will have to teach Abigail to be a better liar," Hannibal offered, wanting to move past their prior conversation quickly. Ieva hummed, relaxing at the prospect. Hannibal wasn't sure how he felt at Ieva latching onto Abigail and Will as well as their corresponding daemons. Ieva never cared for people or other daemons, more willing to play the happy daemon than actually be one. The last time she had enjoyed being around a human and their daemon… Hannibal shook his head. They spent the rest of the ride in silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abigail watched as Ethan flew around the room. She had noticed pretty quickly that everyone’s gaze always landed on his seemingly blood stained feather before they ever noticed the claws, beak, and eyes of her daemon, the features that marked him as a bird of prey. She had never seen this form before which was to be expected. However, she had never seen this animal before. She wished she could look it up, but the hospital staff had refused to lend her a phone or a laptop. Hell, she offered to let them look it up for her and they had refused. She had only stopped in her anger because of the looks they gave his form. She knew no matter how she acted they would look at him and consider her too fragile. She blinked as she heard high heels clicking louder and louder, as if approaching. Ethan swooped down and landed on her shoulder roughly. She felt his talons dig in a bit before relaxing. In the same moment, she folded her shoulders inward a little bit, biting her lip and trying to tear up. The door opened and Abigail had to hide her surprise. She had expected Alana Bloom again. Instead, she had received a redheaded woman in a bold outfit and a bird perched on her shoulder. The woman gave a smile. Not the kind of smile Dr. Bloom had. This smile set something off in Abigail and, if the tightening of talons was any indication, Ethan. The woman’s gaze latched onto Ethan. Her eyes glimmered.

“Hello, Abigail,” the woman greeted, her eyes not leaving Ethan until she said her name. “I’m Freddie Lounds. This is Jeffery.” The woman motioned to the bird on her shoulder. It ruffled its grey plumage. Abigail made her lips tremble.

“Are you another psychiatrist?” she asked, her voice trembling. Abigail doubted the woman was a psychiatrist. Freddie shook her head.

“I’m a journalist concerned with hearing your story,” Freddie answered, something overly sweet in her voice. “Do you know what your father was?” Abigail gave a shaky nod.

“They told me when I woke up,” she whispered. Freddie nodded in return.

“So you understand why I would be so concerned for you,” Freddie assured, taking a few steps closer. “With your father gone, people will try to take their judgment of him out on you.” Abigail watched the woman and her daemon. Jeffrey’s eyesight didn’t leave Ethan the whole exchange and oh did Abigail not like that.

“And why protect me from that?” Abigail said, her voice unstable but giving a hint of skepticism. This woman wanted something from her. She was a journalist who wanted to tell ‘her story’. While this wouldn’t be a problem later on down the line, hell it might even be a positive, she knew better than to take the woman at her word. There was no way she was doing this for Abigail’s benefit.

“You seem like a sweet girl,” Freddie cooed. “And you can’t be blamed for what your father did. You need to get ahead of the PR.”

“They let a journalist in here? The doctors agreed to this?” Abigail replied. Ethan let some amusement through the bond as Freddie’s jaw twitched and Jeffrey ruffled his feathers.

“I want to tell the truth. Your truth,” Freddie replied, side stepping the question entirely. Abigail couldn’t help the small scoff that left her mouth. Ethan nipped her jaw. Abigail briefly leaned her head against his feathers. “Sometimes that involves deception. But know this, I will never lie to you.”

“Sounds like what a liar would say,” Abigail retorted.

“You have every right not to trust me, but in time, Abigail, I hope you can let me prove that you can.” Freddie took another few steps forward. “Have they allowed you to look up your daemon’s form?” Abigail blinked, sending a sideways glance to Ethan.

“Why do you ask?” she retorted. Freddie gave a small smile.

“Daemons tell us a lot about someone and ourselves,” Freddie explained. Abigail felt the condescending tone grate on her. “Most peoples’ daemons tell you all you need to know about someone.” Freddie paused. “Your dad being an exception.” Abigail looked the woman in the eyes.

“How did they catch him?” she asked. Abigail couldn’t help it. She remembered the kitchen but she had no clue how it got to that point.

“A man named Will Graham,” Freddie informed her, glee in her eyes. Abigail couldn’t help but watch as Jeffrey gave another nasty sound. “Works for the FBI but isn't FBI. He catches insane men because he can think like them. Because he is insane.” Abigail flinched as the door to her room opened. In walked two men, some orderlies following behind. One was dark haired with glasses over his eyes. The other had ash blonde hair slicked back. She barely managed to glance down, an attempt at seeing their daemons, before glancing back at Freddie. “Speak of the devil.”

“Would you excuse us please?” the dark haired man asked. Abigail blinked, recognizing him as the one who had killed her dad. Ethan nudged at her jaw, letting an achingly familiar feeling seep through their bond. She couldn’t help but stare at the man now with the new information. He had visited her a lot while she was unconscious.

“I’m not leaving you alone with her,” Freddie spat, Jeffrey giving a loud guttural squawk. The dark haired man nodded at the orderlies, who then swiftly moved around the woman.

“I’m Special Agent Will Graham,” the dark haired man greeted. Abigail watched him. His eyes seemed settled off to the side. At first, Abigail thought he was looking at her scar but she noticed his gaze was further off than that. If she had to guess, she’d say he was looking at her shoulder or behind her.

“By Special Agent,” Freddie snapped. Abigail blinked, turning her gaze back at the woman. “He means not really an agent. He didn’t get past the screening process. Too unstable.”

“I must insist you leave the room,” the blonde man told the woman. Abigail felt something hard settle in her stomach. She knew that voice. Ethan let another wave of an achingly familiar feeling seep through. She swallowed. He had visited a lot too.

“If you want to talk,” Freddie said, reaching out to give Abigail a card. Graham snatched it from her. Freddie gave him a glare before looking back at Abigail. “Remember, birds of a feather flock together.” She swiftly turned and walked out of the room.

“Until the cat comes,” Ethan continued softly. Abigail blinked when she realized another voice had continued the saying with Ethan. She glanced around before she noticed the dark, intense eyes of a daemon with a form she had never seen before. Its grey and dark striped body unique and startling. It had a hump and some part of Abigail thought of a spotted hyena. She was vaguely aware of Ethan hopping off her shoulder and gliding near the end of the bed the daemon was near. The mountain lion daemon stayed further away, closer to the two men than the unique daemon.

“Abigail, this is Doctor Lecter,” Graham continued from his earlier introduction. “Do you remember us?”

“I remember you,” Abigail answered, trying to make herself sound upset but failing. “You killed my dad.” She watched as the weird daemon nudged Ethan. Ethan seemed interested in the daemon. She barely noticed the tense atmosphere.

“You’ve been in a bed for 3 weeks, Abigail,” Lecter stated. Abigail shifted her focus to him. “Why don’t we have a walk?” Abigail nodded, glancing between their daemons. The mountain lion had joined Ethan and the other daemon. Abigail couldn’t help but try and remember the last time her family’s daemons had been huddled together like that. She shook her head as she was helped up. There was no reason to compare such things. She had no family now. Until proven otherwise, these men and their daemons were more obstacles in her and Ethan’s way.