Work Text:
All in all, Will has a pretty good life. He lives in a comfortable room, if small, that has everything he needs, from a large bed on the ground to a good amount of floor space, and comfortable blankets and things to entertain him, and enough food and water that he rarely goes hungry. He gets plenty of outside and social time for his sensibilities, and gets left alone at night. He didn't used to always sleep alone, but his room is small and he doesn't have to worry about being cold without companions, so it's something he adjusted to quickly.
The shelter has been his home for a number of years, since he was recovered in the aftermath of a tropical storm that ended up doing more harm than making a bit of noise, sweeping away Will and his fellow strays downriver and stranding them until humans had shown up to rescue them. He'd been bounced around a few kennels, usually overlooked for a dog a little younger or a little more spry with a less muddy medical history. He didn't mind. The shelter staff were kind to him and in this particular one, an older woman named Vicky runs the night shift and she always gives Will extra treats before bed and would pet his head, gently ruffling his fur before moving on.
Will likes this shelter for a number of reasons, but the biggest one is his best friend. He's a cat, and has been at the shelter for a long time before Will arrived. His owner had died of – well, Will isn't exactly sure what, but when his friend talked about it he would smile slyly and flex his claws, so maybe it hadn't been an accident.
In any case, Hannibal is Will's best friend. He's very smart and just a little larger than Will, meaning that no one else in the kennels messes with them and Will can comfortably curl up against Hannibal's flank, or Hannibal against his, without either of them being too cold or exposed. They have kennels across from each other so they can see each other through the chain link openings, separated by an aisle, and even though cats and dogs usually play in separate areas, Hannibal always shows up when Will is taken outside and they're allowed to wander or bask together as they like.
Hannibal is watching him now, perched atop his cat tree, his tail flicking lazily back and forth as he waits for the final round of the day shift before they switch over to nighttime. Will smiles at him, his tail wagging when Hannibal's ears swivel towards him. He smiles back, more demure and much more proper – cats are like that – but the luminous sheen in his eyes is practically glowing.
Will can't see colors all that well, but he knows Hannibal is a black cat. He knows that the shades in his eyes match the dirt and sometimes sunlight on dry grass, and sometimes the color Will's skin turns when he gnaws at an itchy joint or when Vicky brings him fresh, raw meat to eat instead of canned food.
Hannibal's head snaps to one side, pupils flaring out, and Will closes his mouth to stop himself panting, ears perking up as he hears the door close. He crawls to the end of his cage and wraps his fingers around the links, peering at the shadow of Vicky as she approaches. She's short and round and has a kind face, wrinkles around her eyes and mouth and grey hair falling straight down her back.
"Hello, darlings," she coos, as Will wags his tail and rumbles at her. She reaches into her pocket and takes out a treat, feeding it to Will, and then turns to Hannibal, offering him the same. He doesn't deign to eat from people's hands, but he climbs down from his tree and takes it from her in his fingers with a cordial smile. "Lights out soon, okay?"
"Thank you, Miss Vicky," Hannibal says, his voice low. He allows her to reach into his cage and give his long, dark ear an affectionate scritch.
Will cocks his head, aware of a sound, and a new scent. He whines, a second before there is a frantic knocking, beyond the door through which Vicky came. Will knows there is a room beyond it, where people are, where they come and are led down here to see if they want to take a dog or cat or other animal home. But the day shift people handle that, not the night shift people. Will frowns and whines again when the knock keeps coming, frantic and sharp and making Will's neighbors shift and make uncertain noises.
"Hush, now," Vicky says. "I'm sure it's nothing serious."
She disappears back through the doors. Will's hearing is the best, and he's closest to the door. He prowls to the edge of his cage and shoves his face against the wires. As the door swings shut, he catches a glimpse of a young human female, wide-eyed and pale, with straight dark hair and bright eyes.
"What do you see, Will?" Hannibal asks him, crouching down.
"Young human," Will says. His nostrils flare as he breathes in. "She smells…sad."
"Afraid," Hannibal confirms, his own nose twitching. "Can you hear anything?"
Will holds up a hand, and tilts his head to listen.
"I know it's late." That must be the young one. "I'm really sorry, I just need -. I need to adopt one. The biggest and smartest one you have. Please. I can pay in cash, whatever you need. You're the only guys still open."
He hears Vicky answer, but her soft voice is too muffled for Will to pick out the details. Will frowns, and shies back as the door opens again. Vicky has the girl's hand in her own, leading her down the way, past Hannibal and Will. This close, the scent of fear on her is powerful, stings Will's nose like the burn of smoke from the humans that don't have houses but would occasionally share their food with Will in exchange for a guard dog to warn them if police came.
Will has always considered himself more of a guard dog. He likes people, and they tend to like him well enough once he's around them for a while. He's not as effortlessly charming, and he doesn't draw attention to himself, which is why he thinks he has yet to be adopted, but that's alright. He doesn't want to go anywhere without Hannibal, anyway.
Hannibal rises to his feet, his cage angled better to see the girl following Vicky. His ears are forward, tail twitching in interest. The bigger dogs are in the back, and Will can hear them snoring gently, already asleep. He breathes in and frowns.
"If you want big ones, then these are what we have," he hears Vicky say. "But -. What do you mean by 'smart'?"
"Ideally they are fairly communicative," the girl replies. "As good as a human."
"Oh! Well, then, come this way." Vicky leads the girl back, and smiles when they come to a stop in front of Will. Will stands, ears forward, his head tilted as he takes the girl in. She's very young, barely older than a pup in human years. There's a scarf around her neck and Will can smell the specific heat of a healing wound, and salves humans have put on him before when he bit himself too hard.
"This is Will," Vicky says with a smile. "He's very smart, and very well-behaved."
Will gives the girl an encouraging smile. "Hello," he greets gently, curling his fingers around the front of the cage. She merely stares at him. "Are you alright?"
She blinks at him, as though surprised he asked. "Yes, thank you," she replies. It's a lie. Will frowns. "How long have you been here?"
"Years," Will says.
She tilts her head, her eyes sharp. "Why haven't you been adopted?"
Vicky makes a quiet sound, and smiles sheepishly. "Well, you see, Will here is kind of a package deal." She gestures behind them, and the girl turns to see Hannibal eyeing them coolly, unblinking. The girl's eyes widen when she sees how big he is. He's one of the biggest cats Will has ever seen, and given how many kennels he's been in, that's saying something. "Hannibal here is Will's best friend. We can't separate them."
The girl frowns, and approaches Hannibal, lifting up his chart. Her eyebrows lift. Will doesn't know what's on their charts, but he knows that whenever a human reads Hannibal's, they tend not to want him anymore. It makes him shift his weight and whine uneasily.
Hannibal steps up to her, and she flinches back. "What's your name?" he asks.
"Abigail," she replies.
"Abigail," Hannibal echoes. His head tilts. "You're afraid of something."
"I am," she says, nodding, and looks back at Will. "I need someone who'll look out for me, and watch my back. Someone I can trust to keep me safe."
Will feels his ears flatten to his skull, uneasy. If something is threatening this little pup…. "I can protect you," he vows.
"We both will," Hannibal adds, when she looks at him again. He presses one of his hands against the cage door, and smiles at her. "Nothing will harm you, I swear it."
Abigail meets his eyes, and presses her lips together. She draws in a breath, nods, and turns back to Vicky. "I'll take them both."
Abigail is given leashes and collars for both of them, since the Federal mandate dictates that all hybrids be on leashes in public. Will has never worn a collar for a long period of time, except during transport, and he tries not to pull and fidget with it as Abigail puts it on him and clips his leash to the back. Hannibal takes his with much more grace, completely at ease. She pays for them both, signs the paperwork, and leads them outside.
It's cold outside, and Will shivers when his bare feet touch the ground. Even though he has thick pads on his feet to protect him, he feels little fissures of discomfort worm their way up his legs as Abigail leads him and Hannibal out of the shelter and towards her car, in the middle of the parking lot.
Hannibal is purring, looking subtly delighted to be free of the place. He walks at Abigail's shoulder as though he's been guarding her all his life, Will taking the wider border even though nothing can sneak up on them in so wide a space. Abigail opens the back seat for them and they clamber in, settling on the leather with soft sighs. Hannibal's tail curls around Will's, and his hand rests on Will's thigh, claws gently kneading at the muscle as Abigail climbs into the driver's seat and starts the car.
She doesn't start driving right away. Her knuckles are white on the steering wheel, as she stares straight ahead. Will lets out a curious rumble, nudging his way between the front seats and putting his head on the armrest. She startles, and looks down at him, smiling weakly.
"Hey," she says, petting a hand through his thick hair. Will closes his eyes, rumbling in pleasure as her nails brush his scalp. She sighs. "I suppose I should explain."
"In your own time," Hannibal murmurs, petting Will's back.
She sighs again, and pulls her hand from Will's head, looking out the front windscreen again. "My…dad was a bad man," she says. "He hurt people. And when police came knocking, he tried to hurt me." Will growls at the words. "I survived, obviously, but he died. And then it came out what he had been doing, and all the people he had hurt. And a lot of people are angry with me because of what he did." She sucks in a breath. "I can't afford to move away, not until I sort out all the paperwork, which means I'm stuck in a place where everyone knows what he did and blames me for not speaking up about it."
"Hence the need for protection," Hannibal says.
She blinks, and looks at him in the rearview mirror, and smiles. "Vicky wasn't lying when she said you guys were smart," she says, laughing.
She has a nice laugh, Will thinks, high and childish. He scrambles into the front seat and perches there, putting his chin on his knees and looking at Abigail. He puts a hand on her arm, finds it tense. "We'll make sure nothing happens to you," he promises. "You'll be safe with us."
Her eyes water, and she blinks rapidly, fighting back the swell of emotion. Will leans in and nuzzles her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her in an awkward hug that makes her laugh again, cheek against his hair. "I believe you, Will," she says, petting his head. Will smiles, tail thumping against the door, and pulls back when he doesn't think she's going to cry anymore. "I guess we should get you guys home and settled in. I can make a store run – what do you like to eat? And some toys, if you want them. I have a big backyard and lots of space…."
Will lets her ramble, and lets Hannibal field the more pointed questions. He's more particular than Will in terms of what he likes to play with and what he eats. Will's been on the streets too long to be picky. She starts driving, and Will curls up in the front seat, eyes forward so he doesn't get nauseous.
It feels strange to be in the front of a car, with a collar around his neck, the scent of a person who isn't a member of staff in his nose. His nose twitches when he smells Abigail's scent change, darkening with the peculiar sharpness of unease as she turns a corner down a street of houses.
Will frowns, when she turns in and pulls up the driveway to one. There's a big word spray-painted on the garage door, which she doesn't comment on. She gets out of the car and goes to unlock the house.
Will clambers out after her, and Hannibal appears at his side. "What is that word?" Will whispers.
"Cannibals," Hannibal says.
Will's frown deepens, and he looks up at his friend. "What is that?"
"It's what people call humans who eat other humans," Hannibal tells him. His eyes are dark, ears tilted back to listen to the sounds of the street around them. It's quiet, even though it's not very late. There's still a hint of daylight in the sky.
"Will, Hannibal!" Abigail calls, and smiles weakly at them from the door. "Come on."
Will jogs up the stairs, happy to get inside where the floor isn't so cold on his bare feet. The house is large, bigger than any house Will has seen before. It also stinks of blood. His nostrils flare as he breathes in, ears flattening to his skull in unease. Hannibal brushes past him, looking in each room as Abigail locks the car from the door, and closes it. She undoes her scarf, and Will can see what she was hiding – there's a large, dark pink mark on the side of her neck.
He whines at the sight of it, and wraps his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair. She stiffens, like she's not used to being hugged, but tentatively hugs him back. "We can clean the garage tomorrow," he promises.
She shivers, and smells of tears again. Will closes his eyes and hugs her even tighter, rubbing his cheek on the top of her head.
He stiffens and pulls away when he hears Hannibal mewl, and rushes away from Abigail, into a room. The kitchen. His eyes take in the dark stain on the floor, cleaned up but still obviously there, though he can't quite tell what the color is. Hannibal is pacing around it, tail twitching in agitation, ears flat and nose wrinkled.
He looks up when Will comes in, and hisses at him. "Here," he says. Will feels eyes on them, and turns to see Abigail in the doorway.
She swallows, absently rubbing at her neck. "I almost died in here," she whispers.
Hannibal hisses again, his tail puffed up and his eyes narrowed to slits. "Your father did this?" he demands sharply. She winces, and nods, and Will wants to go back to her and hug her so tightly. Hannibal makes another low, angry noise.
He walks up to her and cups her face with both hands. Will knows how soft his hands are, and hopes he's keeping his claws under control. "Never again," he vows. Abigail blinks up at him, her eyes wide, and Hannibal sighs, and embraces her tightly, his tail wrapping around her slim waist as she clings to him. "You're not a monster and you're not a bad person, Abigail, no matter what your father did."
Her shoulders shake, and Will wets his lips, whining as he looks down at the stain again. The scent of blood is powerful enough to make his stomach roll in protest. He does his best to shake himself off, fidgeting restlessly at his clothes.
Abigail pulls back, and sucks in a breath. "I'll go make a store run real quick," she says, nodding to both of them. "Get you guys some proper clothes and beds and…and all that."
"Would you like some company?" Hannibal offers.
"That's alright – really. This is kind of overwhelming for me, and I'm sure it is for you guys, too. I want you to get settled in."
Hannibal clearly isn't happy with that notion, but he sighs, and nods.
Abigail takes their collars and leashes off, setting them on the kitchen counter. "Um…. Be good?" she says with a weak laugh. Will grins at her, his tail wagging again. "I'll be back soon."
She leaves. Will waits until he hears the door close, and the rumble of the car, before he glares down at the floor. "I don't want her to see this anymore," he snaps, hackles rising at the idea that this poor pup has to keep living in the place where she was attacked, that she has to see it every day.
"I agree," Hannibal says. He sniffs along the cabinets and bows down to reach under the sink, purring with delight as he comes across some cleaning supplies. Will can already tell they're going to hurt his nose, but he can push past that. Hannibal's sense of smell is way more delicate than Will's and if he can manage, Will can too. He approaches the counter as Hannibal hands him some cleaning wipes.
"Do you think any of this will work on the garage?" Will asks. "I want to clean that too."
"We'll clean all of it," Hannibal decides with a nod. "She won't have anything to fear, with us around."
Will smiles at him, looking up and meeting Hannibal's eyes, his own soft with adoration. He rubs his cheek against Hannibal's shoulder and laughs when Hannibal nips his ear playfully. "I'm really glad you came with me," he says quietly. "I know you don't…care for humans as much as I do."
"I don't not care for them," Hannibal replies, shrugging. "And I…."
He pauses, trailing off, and Will nudges him with his nose, giving a curious rumble. Hannibal's tail entwines with Will's. He does that a lot, when they're cuddling or sleeping together, or when Hannibal is feeling anxious.
"I know what it's like to live with a bad memory," Hannibal finally murmurs, swallowing harshly, his eyes on the kitchen sink. "To be afraid." He smiles, his eyes brightening, and turns so he can rest his forehead against Will's. "A lot of that went away when you became my friend. I want to pay it forward."
Will smiles, tail wagging, though not violently enough to dislodge Hannibal's grip on him. "We can keep her safe," he says. He feels the truth of that, in his bones.
Hannibal nods, and nuzzles him. "As long as she doesn't make us sleep in separate rooms," he teases.
"I don't think she will," Will says, laughing. "But maybe we'll sleep in her room, for a while. Until she feels better."
"That would be agreeable," Hannibal murmurs, eyes shining with affection. "As long as I'm with you."
Will lets Hannibal put the collars back on while they go outside so that they don't get in trouble, hauling buckets of soapy water and thick sponges. The writing is tall and thick, but older than it looks, and is crusted into the grain of the garage door. Scrubbing at it takes a lot of work and Will is soaked with sweat, shivering in the cold, when headlights light up the garage and he turns to see Abigail coming home.
He smiles at her, and she gets out of the car, the lights fading as she blinks at the garage. In the porch light, it's harder to see, but Will's vision is just as good in the dark. He can see the surprise on her face, and smell the powerful swell of surprise and gratitude.
"Will," she breathes, approaching him. "You didn't have to do this."
"I wanted to," he tells her, and nuzzles her shoulder. "Hannibal's cleaning the kitchen, too."
Her eyes well with tears, and she presses her lips together, covering her mouth. "Thank you," she whispers.
Will grins. He's almost done, there's only the 'LS' left. He nudges her gently with his forehead. "You'll catch your death out here," he says. "You're not hairy enough for this cold."
She laughs, shaky and happy. The sound draws Hannibal's attention, and he appears in the doorway, and smiles at both of them. "Would you like some help with groceries?" he offers. She nods, and he prowls out of the house, smelling of bleach and cleaner, and helps her carry her haul inside. Will vibrates with excitement, seeing the big beds she bought, and the bright toys just visible through the plastic bags, and the food he can smell, the chewing bones, the treats.
He finishes up cleaning the garage as best he can, the water black by the time he's done. He pours the buckets out on the lawn and carries everything inside, setting the buckets down in the laundry room to dry.
Hannibal finds him, and kisses his hair. "Come," he says, lacing their fingers together and herding Will upstairs. Will follows. There are six doors; two on the left, four on the right. All of them are open, and he can see Abigail's shadow moving in one of the rooms. Hannibal leads him to that room, one of the ones on the right, and inside.
It was clearly not being used while Abigail's parents were alive, and now it looks like any shelter animal's dream come true. One corner of the room has a giant nest of beds and blankets, there's a big cat tree in the other corner by the window, where sunlight will pour in. Abigail is on her knees, pulling out toys and throwing them every which way.
Will rumbles happily, tail wagging hard enough to hit the wall. She looks up at him and grins and he tackles her, making her laugh as they go rolling like puppies, until he ends up on his side with her flopped over him, scratching at his cheeks and ears as he pants against the carpet.
"So I take it you like it," she teases.
Will hums, nodding.
"You guys can both sleep in here," she tells them. "My room is just next door."
"Thank you, Abigail," Hannibal murmurs.
She nods. "There's more clothes and stuff in the bags. I'll leave you to it." She rises, dusting herself off, and approaches Hannibal. She lifts her hand, hesitantly, and smiles when Hannibal puts his cheek against her palm, purring gently. "I hope you guys are happy here. Let me know if there's anything else you want."
"We will," Hannibal promises, and watches her leave with an affectionate look. Will crawls over to the nest, collapsing on the soft beds and rolling around so he can spread his scent and soften them in all the right places to be comfortable.
"Did you lock the front door?" Hannibal asks him.
"Yes," Will says. "Double checked."
"Good."
Will smiles up at his friend, as Hannibal watches the hallway until Abigail's door closes, and then he closes their door, certain that she is safe for the night. Typically in the shelter dogs and cats are given scrub pants for modesty's sake, but everything else is bare. Because of the recent weather they were given shirts, too.
Hannibal pulls off his collar, stretching his neck from side to side, and pulls his shirt over his head as well, letting it flop to the floor. Will paws at his own collar, whining when he can't quite figure out the clasps, and Hannibal smiles at him, and comes over, crouching and helping Will free. Will pulls his shirt off, kneeling and wriggling backwards to get it over his head, and tosses it to one side.
Hannibal prowls over him and pins him down, as he often prefers to sleep. Will huffs, rolling onto his side so that Hannibal's knees can curl up against his stomach, so Will can pet his thighs, and Hannibal folds his arms and rests them on Will's flank, pillowing his cheek on his arms. His tail tickles Will's nose playfully and Will snorts, tail thumping against the ground.
Hannibal sighs contentedly, lashes low. "It's warm in here," he notes.
Will nods. "I missed sleeping next to you." Sometimes they could get away with it, when Vicky finished her rounds early and Hannibal could climb out of his cage and into Will's, but most of the time that wasn't allowed, and they had to make do with cuddling sessions during playtime. The thought that he's going to get to sleep with his friend every single night makes him rumble happily.
Hannibal reaches out and strokes his hair from his face, gently flipping his ear right side in from where it had gone the wrong way during his play with Abigail. "So did I," he purrs, and shifts his weight, resting on his knees. Will pets the thick fur surrounding the base of his tail, grinning when it twitches and curls around his arm. Hannibal's purr grows louder, and he nuzzles Will's exposed flank. He licks Will's skin, his rough tongue making Will shiver and whine softly.
"Shh," Hannibal whispers. "We don't want to disturb her."
Will bites his lower lip, hard enough his fangs make marks, and nods. Hannibal smiles at him, eyes hooded and dark, and licks Will again, higher up this time. Will pulls his arm forward and rolls a little more onto his stomach so Hannibal has room to groom him as he likes. Hannibal licks his way up Will's back, to the nape of his neck. Into his hair, pushing it back from the sides of his face. Across his ears, making them twitch and shiver.
Hannibal crawls over Will, mindful of his tail, gently pushing it to one side so it doesn't hurt when his weight settles on Will's back. Will closes his eyes, smiling as Hannibal continues to groom him, purring loudly and wrapping his arms around Will's shoulders. Hannibal nips his hair and tugs, making Will whine quietly, and rubs his hands beneath Will's chest, teasing his nipples, dragging down his tensing stomach as he starts to rut idly between Will's legs.
Will is panting, warm all over as Hannibal plays with him, no urgency or real intent behind it, just enjoying the contact, the grooming, the bonding practice of mixing their scents together. Will turns his head and opens his eyes and Hannibal kisses him, his hands going still just shy of the waistband of Will's pants.
"I love you, Will," Hannibal purrs, nuzzling his nape. Will goes lax, sighing and smiling wide.
"I love you too," he replies, and lifts his head for another kiss that Hannibal eagerly grants him. "I'm glad you're here with me."
"As am I," Hannibal says. "I would rather be nowhere else." He smiles, and kisses Will one more time, before he settles again and rests his cheek on Will's shoulder. He slides a little to one side so Will's tail can rest more comfortably, and Will turns and slings an arm over Hannibal's waist, holding him close as they curl up together in their nest, and go to sleep.
