Really long chapter here, sorry guys. Hope you still like it:)

Chapter Eighteen

Dean's eyes caught sight of the dark ash feathers crawling across the floor and up the walls. His heart stopped in his chest and he pushed past Will and Dr. Lecter, plowing his way into the small house.

His lungs filled with air once again when he saw a figure that he didn't recognize settled between the two wings. He's okay, Dean thought, temporarily relieved. Dean had no idea where the angel was, but the fact that he was not the corpse burned into Will's floor filled him with hope.

"What happened here?" Dr. Lecter asked quietly.

Dean turned slowly, scanning the entire room. Besides the angel, the walls were cracked in some areas, the bookcases had scattered their contents across the entire living room, the table where Will Graham was tortured had collapsed to the ground, and the dogs that were eager to meet newcomers sat excitedly near Will.

"I don't know," Dean murmured.

"I should take the dogs out," Will said as he quickly began to walk out of the room. He whistled loudly, and all the dogs ran behind him.

"I'll follow him in case the person that did this is still here," Sam said as he walked out to follow Will.

Dean didn't look up as his brother left the room. He was busy searching for something, anything, that would point him in the direction where Cas could be found. Nothing makes sense, Dean thought. What would be fighting angels, and why would they come to Will's house? Was it looking for Crowley, or even Sam and I?

"I'll go try and contact Cas," Dean said as he started towards an empty room. "Don't you go anywhere," he warned Dr. Lecter.

Dean walked off and found what he assumed to be Will's bedroom. It was small like the rest of the house with a bed in the middle and towels scattered around the floor. He leaned up against the bedpost and folded his hands loosely in front of him. Cas? Where the hell are you? We got Crowley in pieces back at the bunker and a dead angel here at Will's house. We could really use your help. I have no idea what's going on and you disappeared on us again without any explanation whatsoever. Please, just let us know you're alive.

Dean waited for what felt like forever but Castiel failed to appear. Come on, Cas!

Dean growled in frustration and stood up. He slowly began to walk out of the room, glancing back hopefully every few paces just in case the angel appeared while his back was turned.

"What did he say?" Dr. Lecter asked once Dean was back in the living room.

"He didn't answer," Dean muttered.

There was a faint tapping of nails and soon seven dogs barged into the same room, followed by Sam and Will.

"Anything?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "We've gotta go find him."

Sam stepped past the dogs and closer to his brother. "Dean, we have nowhere to look. Castiel disappears all the time, he's probably fine."

Dean stood up straighter in attempt to size up his brother. He may be shorter than Sam, but he will always be older. "There's something wrong Sammy, I can feel it! Sure, he vanishes a lot but he always comes back whenever I call, and dead angels don't just start appearing for no reason!" He yelled. When he saw his little brother's hurt expression, he instantly regretted raising his voice so much.

"Fine, Dean. We'll go wherever you think he might be," Sam agreed. "Let's drop Dr. Lecter off, get your impala back, and hit the road."

Dean nodded silently. He honestly didn't know what he was supposed to do. He had no idea where to start looking, but he couldn't just give up on Cas. At least if he felt like he was accomplishing something by finally getting rid of Dr. Lecter, he wouldn't feel so damn lost.

"Are you alright with being here alone, Will?" The doctor's voice dragged Dean from his thoughts.

"Uh, yeah I guess," Will stuttered in reply. "I-I have my dogs."

Poor guy, thought Dean. However, he knew he didn't have time to sympathize with insane people. "Works for me," he stated as he walked towards the door, beckoning for Sam and Dr. Lecter to follow.

"Wait!" Will called out. "What am I supposed to do with this body? I can't call the police, they'll think I did it. I don't have an alibi, I can't say I was with two strange men cutting a demon into little pieces!"

Dean laughed. Amateur. He opened the door and proceeded onto the porch without saying anything more.

"I'll take care of it tomorrow, Will. Just leave it alone for the night," Dr. Lecter ordered.

"Good, now let's go," Dean commanded as he got into the driver's seat of the car. Dr. Lecter once again was shotgun, and Sam took his spot in the backseat alone. The engine of the car roared to life, and Dean drove off into the darkness.

oOo

The chains rattled against each other, but their clanking sound was drowned out by his raspy yells as the large hooks pulled harder at his skin. The green sky was a mist and the heat felt like flames. Gravity was his own worst enemy, pulling down on his body as he stretched and ripped but never quite fell. He kept counting down the seconds until Lucifer would return to-

"Dr. Lecter!"

Hannibal was torn immediately from his horribly vivid nightmare. He didn't realize he'd even fallen asleep. Perspiration accumulated at his hairline and he was trying desperately to stop shaking, but the pain was so real. He slowed down his breathing and looked over to Dean.

"Yes?"

Dean met Hannibal's gaze briefly before turning back to the road. "You alright?"

"Yes. Why would you assume otherwise?" He replied.

"I don't know," Dean began, "could be the fact that you were squirming around in your seat and sweating like Will."

Hannibal lowered his head slightly. "My apologies," he stated quietly. A sharp pain stabbed into his shoulder, and Hannibal peered through the ripped cloth of the shirt to see that the stitches he'd applied back at the bunker had been torn out. It appears 'squirming' was an understatement, he realized. He clenched his teeth and held the fabric against the wound to catch any excess blood.

"Hey, uh, you wanna take the wheel for a bit?" Dean asked. "It'll take your mind off it, plus I'm not sure where to turn once this road ends."

Hannibal nodded in appreciation and smiled weakly. "Yes, thank you." He looked out the window at the nearest road sign and found that he recognized their location and they were quite close to his house. The car slowed to a stop on the side of the road and both Hannibal and Dean got out and switched places. Hannibal started the engine again and started off down the road once more, happy to have something to distract his subconscious.

They drove the rest of the way in almost complete silence. It was early morning when Hannibal pulled up in his driveway.

"You are welcome to come inside with me," Hannibal said as he got out of his car. "Your keys are on the kitchen counter. I'd be happy to supply you with some food for the road." He glared when he saw Dean go pale at the mention of Hannibal's food. He sighed. "What about something vegetarian for a change?" He asked.

Dean at first seemed reluctant, but Hannibal knew he had to be starving. Plus, the Winchester's looked very pleased with the dinner he had cooked the first day they had met each other, that is, before Crowley told Dean that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper.

"Okay fine," Dean agreed. "Come on Sammy!"

Hannibal led them up his front porch, but stopped right before the door.

"What?" Dean asked.

Hannibal frowned. "My keys are in the inside pocket of my suit coat, which is still back in Kansas," he explained. He had picked locks before in order to do his usual work, but now he didn't have anything to pick it with.

"Don't you have a spare or something?" Sam asked.

"No, I don't use spare keys. If one looked hard enough, they could easily get into my house," Hannibal said.

"Hm," Dean stated sarcastically. "You know what'd be helpful right now? My lock picking kit. Oh wait, you confiscated that when you were trying to kill me. Oh, but I have a backup one! Too bad you took that one as well."

Hannibal growled. He was in no mood to deal with his attitude. "I usually keep my kitchen window open to air it out once I've finished cooking. We should be able to get it open easily.

"Whatever," Dean muttered.

Hannibal walked along the side of his house until he was right outside of his kitchen. He tugged lightly at the window and it slid up easily. Hannibal smiled in content and began to pull himself onto the ledge with as much dignity as he could hold onto. However when the pitch black sight of burned wings appeared once he was inside, he immediately turned back towards the Winchesters.

"On second thought, maybe I should bring your possessions out to you," he mentioned casually.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean yelled up at him.

"Just wait for a moment." Hannibal briskly walked throughout every room of his house, finding three more dead angels with their wings scorched into the walls and floors. He looked closely at each one, but none of them wore the recognizable trench coat or had the same icy blue eyes as Dean's friend. He grimaced when he saw how much his house had been torn apart. Furniture was broken, priceless painting had fallen down and ripped, even his kitchen had broken dishes scattered across the tile floor. Not to mention the four bloodied bodies oozing onto the rugs. He sighed and walked back to the window to see Dean halfway inside already. He pulled himself the rest of the way over the ledge and tumbled onto the floor gracelessly.

"What was that about?" Dean asked angrily, but he soon saw the black wings etched into the floors. He took off into a sprint around the house.

Hannibal didn't even try to stop him. He walked over to the window and look down at Sam. He offered out his hand, however the man was tall enough to reach the ledge without any help.

"Is Cas…?" Sam's question faded into the air once he'd pulled himself inside and seen the wings.

"No, I had already checked each one for your friend. That is why I had you wait outside, I wanted to make sure," Hannibal replied softly. He saw Sam relax slightly.

"Wait, you said 'each one', right?" Sam asked. "There's more?"

Hannibal nodded and led the Winchester throughout the other rooms, showing him each corpse. "Do they look familiar to you?"

"Uh, no I don't think so," Sam said.

"Sammy!" Dean called out from the other room.

Sam ran from the room, and Hannibal followed quickly after him. Hannibal entered the next room to see Dean crouching by the floorboards in the corner of his dining room. Hannibal stepped up and knelt next to him, squinting at the lower trim on the wall. There, scratched into the wood with a bloodied finger nail, was a short message. It read:

"DW,
Don't lose him.
-Castiel
41.547N 73.030W"

Hannibal looked at the Winchester's to see if it made any more sense to them as it did to him, but both looked equally confused.

"Sam, we gotta go to those coordinates," Dean stated quietly. Sam nodded beside him.

Dean stood up off of the floor and looked at his watch. "We have to leave now. Dr. Lecter, do you have my keys and my gun?"

Hannibal beckoned for Dean to follow. He led them to the kitchen and amongst the rubble, took out the car keys and all the weapons he'd taken from Dean before locking him up. He handed them to the man and peered into his eyes.

"Do you still want to kill me?" Hannibal asked calmly.

Dean laughed. "Of course I do, you're the one who started this mess and you almost got Sammy killed."

Hannibal didn't smile. He didn't know what Dean thought was so amusing. He backed up against the counter and reached behind him to grab a steak knife out of its holder. "Are you going to try to kill me?" He asked.

Dean smiled mockingly and pulled back the hammer on his gun. "What do you mean, try? I have a fully loaded gun, while you just have that close-range knife."

Hannibal narrowed his eyes. "You didn't answer my question."

Dean held the gun up to Hannibal's head and rested his finger on the trigger. Hannibal turned his head to the side, but he didn't back away. He didn't want to show weakness or fear.

"You know, Dr. Lecter, I promised myself that I would kill you the second that this was over because of what you did to my brother," Dean explained.

Hannibal was unable to tell if the man was being serious now or not. He decided not to take any chances. He looked out of the corner of his eye to see Sam standing a few meters behind Dean, keeping his gaze on the floor. Hannibal had never given Sam his gun back, so he was presumably unarmed. Hannibal took advantage of the opportunity. He whipped the knife out and plunged it through Dean's hand, forcing the man to drop the gun. Hannibal was able to pick it up and aim it at the brother's before either of them could advance on him. He hated guns, they were messy, but right now he would do whatever he had to.

Hannibal looked into Dean's eyes and saw a sad look of betrayal. He was never going to shoot, Hannibal realized. His gaze softened and he placed the gun down on the counter.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I truly thought you were going to pull the trigger."

"I can tell!" Dean yelled. "Maybe I should've!" The man was desperately holding the wound in his hand.

"Why didn't you?" Hannibal asked. He knew he was pushing his luck, but he was genuinely curious. Hannibal took a towel from the kitchen drawer and threw it at Dean, who wrapped it around his hand.

"I don't know. I guess I figured I'd put you through enough. Plus Cas's warning said 'don't lose him,' and for all I know, 'him' could be you," Dean stated.

Hannibal didn't reply. He instead pulled out a small kit from underneath his sink and walked back to Dean. He grabbed the man's hand and examined the stab wound. Without further explanation, he began to stitch it up and wrap gauze around it.

"It's fine," Dean said, pulling his hand away. "We have to leave now, we can't waste any more time. We've gotta find Cas."

Hannibal nodded. "I understand. I wish you the best of travels, and I sincerely hope you find your friend." Hannibal turned away from the Winchester's and walked towards the front door, attempting to escort them out. When neither of them moved, Hannibal looked back at them. "Is something wrong?"

Dean walked over and stood directly across from Hannibal. "You need Cas to stop your Wendigo transformation, right?"

Hannibal narrowed his glare and nodded. "It would be appreciable."

"Well," Dean began. "We could use you on the road with us. You've had some decent idea's that worked out alright, so you could be an asset to us. What d'ya say?"

Hannibal thought about the life he'd leave behind, but then the memory of eternal damnation pushed it away. He locked his gaze on Dean's and saw his own pain reflected in the man's eyes. He knows what I am, Hannibal thought. And he chose not to kill me. I know what he is, and I accept it. To some extent, we understand each other. I don't have to hide who I am. He realized he would need an alibi for the FBI and he'd have to get rid of the angel corpses first, but he didn't mind too much. Hannibal gave the Winchester's a half-smile.

"Let's go."

The End

Whooo, a crappy ending to an awkward story. I know it's kind of a weird stopping point, but the original story was over, and a new one started. Thank you so much to all of you who actually read this, and I really hope you enjoyed it. I don't know what I'm going to write next, if anything, so if y'all have any requests, be my guest. So yeah, I hope this story was interesting for you guys to read, I had no idea what the heck I was doing :D