I don't own Supernatural or Hannibal. Nor have I watched Hannibal for a LONG while, but rereading stuff about it has jogged my memory slightly, but please excuse Will's OOCness.

"God damnit!" Dean punched a chair with full force, rage fueling his burst of strength and adrenaline. The cushioned chair's wooden frame cracked under the stress, making its back unstable.

"Calm down!" Sam put his hand on his brothers shoulder. "This won't help the case! Just sit back down, and-"

"I don't wanna sit back down. I wanna get out of this damn house and kill the son of a bitch who's been killin' people!" He kicked the wall and the plaster split, creating a gaping hole in the dark painted scene. "It's been five days, and we've got nothing. NOTHING!"

"Dean. Sam." Cas' voice was a welcome sound to hear. The brothers spun around and took in the sorry state he was in. Blood dripped from his face, several red cuts marking places where a ring had torn through his skin, and the surrounding skin was black and blue with bruises. His clothes were torn as if someone had taken a knife and shredded his shirt, even though the wounds underneath it shone a light glowing from within, indicating the healing of the cuts. "I know who the angel is."

With that shocking revelation, the angel fell to the ground, his eyes rolling up into his head as he passed out.


"Hey, Sammy," Dean walked into the living room with Will's laptop in his hands. Sam looked up, blinking tiredness from his eyes as he looked up from his screen, "check this out. All of them had something to do with this church." Dean pointed at the picture of a Catholic Church on the large screen, pushing it on top of Sam's.

"Britney Walen was the daughter of one of the regular church goers, and so was Kathy Davis. Helen Josephes was friends with one of the priests sons. Ethan Meyord was-"

"Let me guess. A regular church goer." Sam shoved Wills computer back into Deans hands and typed as he spoke. "And Benton Towers was the son of one of the priests. But what about Jason Featon?"

Dean chuckled. "He was one of the church goers friends distant cousin who had come up just for the wedding, which was happening in the church. It was the first time any of them had ever met him. Shittiest way to meet your relatives: on a slab in a morgue with your eyes burned out."

Sam barked a laugh, closing his computer and setting it aside.

"We should get going. Hey," he paused for a second, his brows furrowing together, "do you know where our suits are?"

Dean nodded, walking into the kitchen, but calling over his shoulder, "In the trunk, on top of our bags."

Sam jogged out side, grabbed the suits, then went back in, carrying his brothers in his left hand. He tossed his brothers onto the sofa.

For a while, something seemed off. Sam took a showed, got dressed in his suit and tie, and shaved his face, but still something was wrong. He only realized what it was when he walked passed Will's room.

The first thing was that Will wasn't in his bed, which would explain why he hadn't come down when Dean had tried to kill his furniture. The second was that the dogs were gone as well. He figured that they were probably with their master. The third was a feeling; the panic that crept up from his chest and climbed into his throat, restricting his breathing. He stumbled down the stairs, forgetting about his shoes, and sprinted out the door, his brother following a few feet behind.

"Sammy!" He barked. "What are you doing?"

"WILL!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, the sound echoing deep within his chest.

"Will? Will, are you awake?"

Will sniffed, just barely conscious, and grabbed the other persons head. The other man looked at him with worry, still rubbing the blurriness from his eyes.

"Will, what are you-" Will began to squeeze the head with almost inhuman strength.

"Die, mother fucker." He growled as he attempted to smash his head into the wall. The man began to fight back and soon, they were locked in combat, each with equal talent, strength, agility. The stranger was able to throw Will off of him, wiping the blood from his eyes.

"Look at me, Will. Look at me. Who am I?" His feeble attempt to bring the mad man back to reality only seemed to anger him even more. With a roar, Will launched himself at the man once more.

"You know who you are!" He screamed as he kicked the man in the chest with surprising force, knocking the air from his lungs. "You're a monster!"

Suddenly, the emotions of worry, fear, and pain fled from the mans face. His attacks became more precise, more vicious. Soon, the man had him pinned to the ground. Dogs tore at his night shirt and attempted to drag him off of their master, but it was to no avail.

"Who am I?" He asked.

"A lying son of a bitch." Will said with a smile, his warm blood spilling onto the hard wood floor as he struggled, getting in another punch before the stranger was able to pin his arm down. The man punched him in the face and repeated the question.

"Who are you?"

"A hunter who has every intent on sending your ass back to purgatory."

"No. You're name."

"Dean Winchester."

"Who am I?"

"A..." The man saw a shift in Will's features. Soon, a pain-filled, sleep deprived expression replaced the one of bloodlust and pure fury. "Wh-What-"

"Who are you?"

"Will." He gasped, trying to calm his frantic, rasping breaths. "Will Graham."

"Who am I?"

Will blinked in confusion. "Hannibal Lector."


"This is the first time you have ever attacked someone in your sleep." Hours after the battle, Will was still quite shaken. He sat in Hannibal's library where he saw his patients, a hot mug of tea resting on the side table next to the blood red chair.

He nodded, sniffing, taking up the mug and sipping the boiling liquid, feeling it burn his lips and tongue. His body ached and stung from his many cuts and bruises he had gained during the fight, and his normally curly hair was sticky with blood and sweat. His dogs were now standing outside of the house, waiting for their master to give them an order as the sun began to rise behind them.

"What do you remember?" Hannibal watched his patient carefully. Will just shrugged and looked out the window, still refusing to look the therapist in the eye.


Hannibal hummed, marking something down on his pad. "If you're not going to tell me the truth, what's the point in even coming? Why did you try to kill me?"

"I thought..." He gulped, his eyebrows bunched together. "I thought you were...something. I don't remember. You weren't human."

"Hm." The short response lead to some more scratching on the note pad. Will rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I called your house and people where there. Do you remember letting them in?"

"Yes. It was yesterday morning."

"Who are they?"

"My cousins. Sam and Dean."

When he said the second name, the pencil paused briefly on the paper before moving along once more.

"What do they do for a living?" His eyes flashed upward, glancing at Will's face.

"I'm not exactly sure right now."


The ringing of the doorbell startled them both, causing Will to jump out of his chair, his hand where his gun would normally be, put it only grasped the empty air. Hannibal walked calmly out of the room, casting one glance and an "I'll be with you in a moment," behind his shoulder before quietly closing the door behind him.

A familiar voice rang out through the house, "Hey. Heard you found my cousin, so I bought some beer and a burger as a thank you."

"Well, if you can even call a burger from McDonalds a burger. Sadly, the burger didn't make the journey. Dean ate it half way through the ride- Dean! What the hell?"

Dean Winchester pushed the door to the library open, a very confused Hannibal and a frustrated Sam following close behind.

"Found him, Sammy!" Dean pointed at Will, a large, boastful smile stretching across his face before noticing the wounds peppering his face. "Wait. What the fuck happened to you?!"

Heya guys! I know you probably want to kill me right now. After this long of a break, you'd expect me to have more than this, and I have to admit, so did I. Sadly, my schedule has been insane. I have so much work every night and I don't have enough time to rewatch Hannibal season one, let alone write about stuff.

Plus, you can blame some of that on Hussie. I started reading homestuck and...well, you probably know how it goes. I also started listening to night vale. I'm becoming fully fandom. My transformation is almost complete.

I also just kinda lost my inspiration for this story. Until a few of you guys reminded me about it. You guys saved this story, by the way. Thanks!

I have one warning to leave you guys with. These updates will only be as long as this one, or shorter. I will probably wrap this story up in about three or four chapters. Hopefully you won't have to be as insanely patient with me as you had to be for this one for the rest of it.

Thank you so much for the reviews! Sadly, I can't respond to them now because my computer keeps glitching, but I'll do it later! Promise!

I owe it all to you, readers! Thank you so much for reading!

Love you all!


OH MY GOD. I AM SO SORRY. So, I got a message from one of you guys, mysocaledname, which inspired me to try writing again. I'm going to try to go into this even though I haven't watched Hannibal forEVER. So, content will probably up within a week. I'm going to REALLY try to put my nose to the grindstone and WRITE.

Thank you SO MUCH for everyone who has been waiting for a long time for this to happen. I'll see you all in the next chapter!