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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 19

The plot fucking thickens.

@dovahdokren @lov3vivian @deadman-inc-bikeshop @scpdragon @wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: implied racism, religiously motivated violence, kidnapping

“So I heard you’re a civilian consultant for the FBI now?” Charissa said through the receiver. “That’s exciting. Are you being paid?”

“Yeah, actually.” You sat up on the bed. “It isn’t a ton, but it’s enough to get by until I can go back to work.”

She groaned. “Why would you want to come back to work here?”

“Well, for one,” You laughed. “I’d get to see my best friend in person.”

“Are you sure you can’t give me just a little hint as to where you’re hiding out?” She pleaded. “No pressure, but you left your umbrella at the restaurant and it’s just been sitting in my car this whole time.”

“Oh shit, I was wondering where that was.” You held the phone between your shoulder and your ear so you could reach for a Russian chocolate from Hannibal’s bedside table. You popped one through your lips and held it in your cheek. “Thanks dude.”

You could hear the smirk on Charissa’s face. “So did you ever get the sommelier to call you?”

You wanted so badly to tell your best friend every juicy detail, but your acute paranoia held you back. You couldn’t risk putting making Hannibal and Will targets. But then again, it was Charissa.

“You’d better not tell anyone about this or else I’ll sever your spine with my goddamn teeth.” You threatened.

Your friend’s ears perked up. “Go on.”

You looked around the room for any sign of Hannibal and to make sure Will hadn’t gotten home yet. When you knew the coast was clear, you cupped your hand over the speaker. “We totally just fucked.”

Charissa pretended to be shocked. “Oh my god, I could have never seen that coming!”

“But that’s not all.” You shushed her. “The guy that saved me from getting blown up, the FBI agent, I’m sleeping with him too!”

“You slut!” She cursed, playfully. “I didn’t think you had it in you to sneak around.”

“No, no!” You whispered. “That’s the best part! They’re into each other too. So we have, like, an agreement.”

“Like a throuple?”

“Not ‘like’ a throuple.” You corrected. “Just a throuple.”

“Dayum, girl.” She said. “You truly have become the alpha female.”

“Darling?” Hannibal called out from downstairs. He sounded worried.

“Is that him?” Charissa asked. “Are you with him right now?”

“Okay, goodbye.” You said before abruptly ending the call.

You descended the stairs and found him in the living room. “What’s wrong?”

He said nothing, letting the television answer you.

“At approximately six this evening, Evangelical pastor Calvin J. Armitage was arrested for firing the first shot in what would become a deadly shootout with the FBI.” The anchor said. “Entering the megachurch premises to ask questions about the still-open Baltimore Butcher case, Agent Crawford of the Behavioral Science Unit is on site for an exclusive interview.”

Jack looked deeply shaken, and had blood stained all over his jacket. He drew in a deep breath before speaking.

“Special agent Graham and I arrived at the church with the intention of asking Pastor Armitage about his relationship to Chase Mulvaney.” He began. “He was compliant to begin with, then became defensive. He then called the local police, claiming that a-”

Jack paused, a look of slight disgust on his face for what he was about to say.

“-A large black man posing as a federal agent was threatening him.” He finished. “He then held us at gunpoint until the police showed up. While I verified my identity to the chief, Pastor Armitage opened fire, shooting me once in the shoulder, then ran. Special Agent Graham went after him. Then both men disappeared. We believe Armitage is holding Graham hostage, but upon further inspection, we have seen no signs of either man in the church.”

You covered your mouth with your fingertips, too afraid to acknowledge anything with words. Hannibal gently placed his hand on your leg and looked into your eyes.

"Listen to me, [F/N]." He said, desperation in his voice. "You need to tell me what you and Will figured out from the investigation, and fast. Any information at all could tell where he might have taken him."

"The Blue Ridge mountains." You answered with more certainty than was warranted. "He took Will to the mountains just like in Borrasca."

"That's over six hundred miles of land, not including altitude." Hannibal pointed out.

You pressed your fingers to your temples in attempt to slow your thoughts. “You think I don’t know that?”

“Please, just tell me anything about Chase that could narrow it down.” He pleaded.

“He has a ministry.” You blurted out. “In the Blue Ridge Mountains. Something luxurious, meant for Christian women.”

Hannibal bolted to the office to find his computer. “That’s a start. Keep going.”

You snapped your fingers to try and kickstart your memory. “Chase is a narcissist, but not a creative one. He stole his title from NXIVM and his cult personality from Handmaid’s Tale. I think that means he doesn’t understand satire.”

Hannibal’s fingers danced across the keyboard, filling the silent house with frantic clicking. “That also means the name of his ministry might be a thinly-veiled reference to something he doesn’t understand as well. What else?”

You tugged at your hair. “I don’t know, how far could he have gotten in the last three hours?”

“It doesn’t take very long to get from the city to the mountains.” Hannibal answered. “They could be anywhere by now.”

You groaned. “We don’t have that kind of time. Hold on a minute, let me get my laptop.”

Unsurprisingly, Chase had scrubbed the internet clean of every trace of himself. You were forced to read between the lines. You scoured every ex-fundamentalist forum you could find. You posted on every subreddit that had anything to do with evangelical ministries. You opened dozens of tabs with everything from a PDF of the Handmaid’s Tale to case files of class action lawsuits in Frederick County.

Minutes turned into hours and the hours stacked up. You had to hit yourself in the face every time you felt yourself drifting off.

“What are you doing?” Hannibal asked, after a particularly loud slap.

“Trying to keep myself awake.” You said over a poorly-timed yawn. You knocked yourself against the temple a few more times. “Come on you sack of shit, wake up.”

Hannibal snatched you by the wrist. "Stop that this instant."

"Why should I?" You said, on the verge of angry tears. "Will is probably fucking dead and it's my fault, so yeah, I'm a sack of shit."

"Don't say that." Hannibal tightened his grip on your wrist. "He's not dead and it is certainly not your fault."

"I can't sleep knowing Chase took him." You admitted. "I just can't."

Hannibal sat down next to you. He cupped your face in his hand and rolled the tears away from your cheeks.

Hannibal opened his computer. "We'll sleep in shifts. Send me everything you have so far. You'll sleep better knowing I'm looking for him."

"Fine." You said, dumping a handful of links into a document and sending it to his email. You decided to go to sleep right there on the couch with your laptop in arm's reach, so when your shift was up, you could get straight back to work. You drifted off to the ambient noises of Hannibal typing away.

You woke up to your text notification sound.

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