Alana Kills People
"...And it is my choice."
The frail man on the easy chair finished. His voice was rough, aided by the oxygen next to him. He was being filmed by a younger man while a woman was standing next to them.
"Thank you, both."
The man rasped.
"No worries mate"
The man behind the camera responded with an easy smile and a carefree attitude.
"Des, put the camera away"
The woman gently reminded them. Dr. Alana Bloom was still uncomfortable with the people she 'helped' thanking her for it. Luckily Dre, her partner in this new endeavor, was better at accepting the thanks. Along with the envelope full of cash they were paid with.
"It's time?"
The sick man asked her. Alana smiled softly at him, nodded and handed him the flute of champagne. She had filled it along with a dose of pento during the time of his deathbed message. The message was short and loving. Ensuring his loved ones that dying this way was his choice. That he preferred it over the slow death sentence called cancer that he had. A good last message for his family and an even better way for Alana and Des to avoid charges if they were ever caught.
And it's not as if that was as impossible as it sounded. For the past month her and Des' assisted suicide side business had been shadowed by cops. Not even Jack Crawford could help them.
Alana was lost in thought, attacked by memories, when Des tapped her on the shoulder.
"Earth to 'Lana"
Alana shook her head.
"Right, I'm here"
"Ready to go? Unless you feel like welcoming his poor sucker's family and guide them to this"
Alana rolled her eyes.
"Alright alright. Let's go."
Between them packing up their belongings and making sure nothing was out of place took only a couple minutes and soon they were leaving the premises.
"You know what I like about your motorcycle?"
Alana half shouted in Des' ear as they sped away using small footpaths instead of the main streets that could get them spotted.
"It can go on the smaller roads?"
"It can go on the smaller roads"
Des grinned.
Hannibal Lecter was in his kitchen. In front of him was a low dish pan and he was preparing a meal for two. The source of his meat was stuffed in his basement. The man had, stupidly in Hannibal's opinion, tried to confront him only a few hours earlier, claiming he knew Hannibal was the Ripper and guilty.
Hannibal, who was the Ripper and guilty, did his best to sound affronted, willing to see the man's evidence against him and then choked him when his head was turned.
"I managed to fool the Federal Bureau of Investigation into believing Abigail Hobbs was a killer and that the Chesapeake Ripper has gone dormant again and you think that two detectives could outsmart me?"
Hannibal had asked his captive. The big black man had no answer…
... And was missing his tongue. Before losing it Detective Frank had admitted to Hannibal the how and why he and his partner had been following him and how they had gotten on his scent.
In return Hannibal cut off Frank's leg and decided on the proper meal for the meeting he had in his mind.
"Do you need me to be there?"
"I know what I'm doing Des."
Alana repeated for what felt like thousands of times. Yet Desmond was undeterred
"Listen Des, division of labor. You need to get more pento -from a less creepy supplier if you can- and then go get a gift. I'll deal with Joel slash Detective Ben and then we'll go off to MJ's party for alibis."
Alana paused as a smirk found its way on her lips.
"Besides, I highly doubt our good cop would listen to you the way he'll listen to me."
Des had to roll his eyes at that. He had been encouraging Alana to 'get out there' more since the day they met but screwing the guy out to get them wasn't his idea of fun.
"I'll have my phone on if you need me."
"Yes mother"
He made a show of walking away from her house and barely resisted the urge to tap his imaginary hat to the unmarked silver car that had been following them for most of the day.
'Where is Frank?' he wondered when he noticed that Det Ben/Joel the cancer guy was alone.
Alana took a deep breath as she entered her home. Ever since she and Des had decided that something had to be done, she had been doing her best to impersonate a duck. Tough and cool on the outside, trembling like a leaf in the wind on the inside.
She had tried to reason with Ben, after confronting him on his lie about being a cancer patient, but it had been similar to trying to reason with a brick wall. She had even reached out to Jack but the head of the SBU was unable to help. Apparently she had assisted the suicide of a judge's son and he had been pushing the investigation, rendering it outside the hands of the FBI.
So now she had 2 choices. Go to prison for her crimes (not that she agreed that she had committed any) and let her son grow with his aunt (and Margot was as insane as Mason was) or proceed with the original plan and see "Joel" off to his end.
It was a no-brainer really.
She opened the front door and walked to the living room unseeingly. From her oversized purse she removed the bottle of bubbly, the flute and the last vial of sodium pentobarbital. She heard footsteps behind her as she filled the glass with the deadly mixture and casually hid the evidence behind MJ's pile of toys on the floor.
She really had to tidy up at some point.
"Hello Ben"
She greeted. The man behind her tensed for a minute but relaxed soon.
"It's over Alana"
Alana turned around
"I know. Mind if I finish my drink first?"
She motioned to the champagne flute. Predictably Ben took it for himself leaving her to pour another for herself. She grimaced taking the first sip as she sat down on the love seat adjustment to the armchair Ben had chosen. There was a reason she was a beer kind of girl.
The two sat quietly, locked in a silent staring contest. Alana took yet another small sip of her drink, content with the silence. She knew he'd break. It was a classic technique for a reason and one she had used often with her patients.
"How did you even get involved in this?"
Ben asked her after a minute. Alana smiled a small sad smile.
"My best friend was sick. Very sick. He asked a common friend to help him end it all but Jack wouldn't. I didn't have that luxury, seeing as I was half the reason he got so sick. So I reached out to Des Bennett, he came through and I killed Will Graham"
Ben was stunned. He hadn't expected her to admit anything.
"You see Ben, I meant what I told you when I thought you were Joel and dying. I do believe we should be in control of our life and our death. That's liberty. And dying is not a crime."
"Assisting someone to die, is"
"Perhaps in the eyes of the law. Still not morally wrong though"
Alana shrugged one shoulder casually. Ben tried a different technique.
"You haven't killed only one person though. That, one could understand. You're a serial killer."
"A serial killer is someone that has killed more than three people."
Her tone was one that she often used in her seminars at the FBI.
"But you're right. I did help Will, gave the tools to Jack to help his wife pass away and then... then it took a life of its own and I partnered with Des for it."
"You get paid."
Ben said flatly.
"Pento doesn't grow on trees you know"
Alana raised a brow vaguely aware she sounded like Hannibal. Feebly she wondered where her once mentor, friend and lover was. She hadn't seen nor heard from him in years.
The grandfather clocked chimed. MJ's party would begin soon and it'd be strange if she missed her child's party. She emptied her drink with one long sip
"Drink up, it's gonna be a long night"
Ben brought the flute to his lips, Alana's blue eyes following the movement, but didn't drink. Alana wondered if she'd have to pour it down his throat herself.
He opened his mouth to say something but felt a pinprick against his throat and a n accented voice warned him
"I'd do what the lady says if I were you Detective Wesley"
"Hannibal? What are you doing here?"
Alana jumped from her seat. Hannibal didn't take his eyes from the cop and pushed the syringe deeper to drive his point across. The cop, knowing he had lost, locked gazes with Alana and drank deeply. The last thing he ever saw was her smile before his heart stopped beating.
Hannibal stood straight and turned to look at her. she was breathtaking in her simple outfit but the way that dress hugged her body was anything but simple.
"Hello Alana."
"Hi. Now answer my question. I thought you weren't going to call on me."
Alana's tone was a shade between accusing and sardonic. He decided not to call her on it. She was right after all, he had offered that olive branch the last time they had seen each other. The night Jack Crawford entered his house to kill him. The night his whole life had almost turned upside down but he had managed to come out of it unscathed.
For the most part.
"I planned on keeping my promise. I really did."
"But?"
Hannibal stared at her, surprised but ultimately proud of her ability to casually share the room with a dead body and keep a conversation going. The more ... adult, part of his mind wondered what else she'd be willing to do while in the same room as a dead body.
"But your extracurricular activities brought Tweedledum And Tweedledee to my doorstep, my dear"
"Oh... sorry"
Alana blanched. The possibility to guide Ben and Frank to anyone else had never even occurred to her. For that matter...
"Where is his partner?"
"In my basement. Being cured"
Bile rose to her throat. Along with hunger. Now that she knew exactly what Hannibal's best choice of meat was, she did feel the urge to go vegan but she also had to admit that said choice of meat was easily the tastiest she had ever eaten.
Hannibal's lips twisted into a charming smile
"Shall we proceed with dinner, dear? Then you can tell me all about how you killed Will Graham"
Alana was surprised how easy their supper was. Conversation flew easily and, once more, she felt more in tune with Hannibal than she had with any other person. He casually presented their meal, courtesy of detective Frank, and she, with palpitations, took her first bite.
And that was all it took.
Then they were talking. Not just about his practice or her patients, but about the real and serious stuff. About how content he was now that the whole manhunt was over. How his brush with getting caught had exited him but he did prefer playing in the shadows, focusing on his cooking rather than helping the police to catch... himself.
Alana shared the story of how she found herself with a child. How Jack had come to her intent on finding any sort of dirt on Hannibal and, still feeling guilty over her assistance in his escape, she agreed. How she met Mason Verger and his sister Margot. How he made her skin crawl while she found a friend in Margot. How Margot decided to kill her brother when he killed the child she was pregnant with, and how with a hospital mishap, instead of Margot getting pregnant with Mason's male heir Alana got 'it' instead. Yet the two women agreed on raising the child together. Mason Junior lived with Alana while he saw his aunt Margot whenever he wanted.
"And when you need to focus on your side business"
Hannibal hinted. Alana nodded with a sip of her wine.
And then conversation turned to murders.
"I have to say, I do admire your work. Too bad they're ill."
Hannibal joked while waving his fork in the air. Alana felt laughter bubble inside her.
"They're dying Hannibal and I'm helping them take control of their lives."
"By killing them."
"By assisting them in their final decision. I have a locker full of their last testaments if I ever need it"
"And a partner sloppy enough to shoulder all blame, if need be"
Hannibal's eyes flashed at her. Was that resentment? Jealousy? Admiration? Alana couldn't tell. She nodded without looking away from his caramel orbs
"That is true. I don't plan on turning against Desmond, he is invaluable to me."
"but?"
"But I can. If I have to."
"Do you think he is as loyal to you?"
Hannibal asked with honest interest. He was proud his little protégé had finally reached her full potential but he did resent her choosing another man to assist her and to lean on.
"Yes. He did give me up when it suited him and nearly killed himself via overdose over it. Why else do you think Detectives Tweedledum And Tweedledee have met their untimely ends?"
Alana did her best to sound just like Hannibal did when delivering a lesson. From the way his eyes turned to slits momentarily, she saw he got it too.
"There will be others."
"I know."
Famous last words. The very same ones they had uttered five years earlier when they last saw each other. When Hannibal offered Alana a choice in aiding him in return for her safety. She had chosen to be selfish for once and agreed, only for his pet psychopath Abigail Hobbs, to try and kill her. Hannibal had saved her life then and she had saved his when she convinced both Jack and Will (whose brain was almost mush by his untreated encephalitis) that pinning the copycat murders on Abigail benefited them all. Hannibal was just too smart and Jack too alone to take him down. Everyone at the FBI knew that Jack was too focused on the Chesapeake Ripper while his wife's illness was taking its toll on him and with his word over the renowned psychiatrist Hannibal was and still is...
"What do you think about your British friend being involved in a very obvious hit and run after killing Ben?"
"A hit and run involving Frank losing a limb?"
"Exactly"
Hannibal's hand laid palm up in the middle of the table. An unspoken invitation. This time Alana extended her hand till it reached his sealing their fates.
"Highly plausible. But only if you don't mind raising a boy with me"
"I would be honored... Mrs. Lecter"
"Dr & Dr Lecter... Catchy."
* Two years later *
"Are you certain this is a good idea?"
"Hannibal, I'm pregnant. Not terminal."
Alana laughed at her husband's not amused expression
"I worry. I do not want our daughter to be uncomfortable."
Hannibal murmured against her lips while placing his hand on the small swelling beneath her belly button
"Daughter?"
Alana raised a brow. Hannibal only smiled and took her hand to help her on their yacht. They were at Lake Como, spending the day at the water and not only because their latest kill, the abusive husband of a cancer survivor, had made the headlines. MJ wanted to snorkel and he had Hannibal wrapped around his little toe.
"Daddy daddy look what I found"
The little boy shouted as he ran down the pier and jumped in Hannibal's arms. In his hands he had pink-blue large seashell.
"Do you think the baby will like it mommy?"
"I'm sure your little brother or sister will love it"
Alana took the gift and kissed her son gently. Saying something about drawing it Mason Junior ran to the helm of the yacht and took his coloring pencils and pad out.
"We should encourage his skills, lest he becomes a serial rapist like Mason"
"Serial rapist... Serial killers"
Alana made a weighing motion with her hands ala Lady Justice while shooting her husband a look. Hannibal rolled his eyes and the two made their way to the helm where Alana sat down helping MJ to position the seashell while Hannibal turned the engine on.
They were off to have a casual and happy family day. And if they spotted someone, anyone that deserved a visit by them, well...
The End