yay new story! sorry about the crap intro thing - I suck at those so I just took a line from the story. This is something I came up with on the fly and am just gonna enjoy writing it. (honestly I don't know how it's gonna end yet, but I'll just put that off for now).
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hannibal - either the books or the TV show or the movies (I've used info from all three of these sources, so if everything isn't exactly as you remember it being described, that's why)
anywho, please enjoy.
The young woman burst into Special Agent Jack Crawford's office with the force of a hurricane. "What happened Jack?" She demanded, eyes glued on the agent as she marched up to his large desk with the confidence who of one who'd been there before. Her dark scowl made up for her unassuming height and attire.
She was dressed in a wine-colored sweater and yoga pants, and on her feet were a pair of scuffed-up gray converse. Her black coat was thrown carelessly over a small suitcase, and her gray scarf lay on top of the haphazard pile. She looked young and out of place in the heart of Behavioral Science, but addressed Jack personally.
"Olivia." Jack said in surprise. "I didn't realize you were back in the country. Why don't we sit down and talk?" He asked, voice calm and steady. Hannibal's eyes darted between the newcomer and the FBI agent, not used to being sidelined. Who was this child?
She pursed her lips at the agent, unaffected by his placating words. She crossed her arms, hip cocked to the side, and glared at the senior agent. "I landed this morning, and imagine my surprise when I see on the front pages of every newspaper that not only has my brother been accused of four murders, but is also committed into the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane." Her voice was as cold and as sharp as a scalpel.
Sister. Will had a sister. Hannibal studied her with fresh eyes. She was petite in every sense of the word, her hands dainty and small like a china doll's. Her waist was slim, but he could see the strength in her body with every breath she took. Her dark hair was bundled up on the crown of her head but Hannibal can see from his spot that it was curly like Will's, a colorful headband failing to keep a few short curls from falling into her face. She was young, perhaps even a minor. Then her scent hit him.
Hannibal had never inhaled such a divine scent before. She smelled like roses and clean laundry and cold cut steel. He breathed in greedily. His slight movement caught her eye and she finally turned to face him.
Her eyes were gray, gray like a freshly sharpened steak knife. She watched him watch her with eyes like glass, shattered, reflecting a million images of himself, distorted. He could see nothing in those eyes but his own face. Unlike Will, she didn't avoid the eye contact, she demanded it. She studied him blatantly, something calculating lurking underneath her gray stare. For the first time, Hannibal felt exposed under her eyes, all his secrets laid bare for her to dig through. Some deeper instinct warned him that the delicate figure before him was more than met the eye. But then she turned back to Jack and it was gone in the blink of an eye.
Jack looked at her, his face grave. "There was a case. Will got too close and became lost in the profile. There's hard evidence to back the prosecutor up, Olivia. I'm sorry." Even Hannibal could appreciate the pathetic nature of Jack's apology.
Her spine stiffened, the hidden strength Hannibal saw coming to the fore. "Don't you dare apologize to me." She growled, face dark. "You and I both know that Will would never do something like this. Besides, he was just a teacher – he was never supposed to go back on live cases." She ran a hand across her tired face and ignored the prickle of prey drive between her shoulder blades. That man was still watching her. The one that reminded her of a bloodthirsty wolf in sheep's clothing. She shoved the sensation aside and focused on berating the man in front of her. "It was your decision to put him back in the field. You were responsible for his mental health, that meant you had his back. You of all people know what this kind of stuff can do to him — you were supposed to keep him from toppling over the edge, not give him the final shove!" Her face remained practically emotionless, although her tone belied that notion. She was furious at Jack and blamed him openly.
"Jack isn't the only one at fault. I'm afraid I'm also to blame for Will's tragic fall." Hannibal finally stepped forward, fascinated with the life he could feel thrumming inside such a small body.
She took a deep breath, her features smoothing out, and graced him with a polite, if not strained, smile. Hannibal was instantly impressed. Manners made the person in his eyes. She turned on her heel to face him fully, her body language clearly stating that she wasn't done with Crawford yet. "And you are?" She asked, voice soft.
He reached out for her hand. "Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I was Will's supervisory psychiatrist."
She quirked an eyebrow as she took his hand in her small one. "Supervisory?"
Hannibal managed a small smile. "Will didn't want me to formally be his psychiatrist. He didn't want me to psychoanalyze him, he told me. We were just having conversations." He shook her hand, basking in her sweet scent. Her hands were soft in some parts, but his keen senses could feel the faintest callouses on her upper palm. They were the same ones Will had on his fisherman's hands. Her gray eyes met his again, assessing him under dark lashes.
She smiled wanly. "Sounds like Will." She released his hand and backed away slightly. Under any other circumstances Hannibal would think that she was giving him personal space, but something more discerning told him she could see underneath his façade and wanted to keep her distance. "It's nice to meet you, Dr. Lecter. My name's Olivia Graham."
"Will has never mentioned you before. May I ask where you've been?"
Dr. Lecter's manners were impeccable, as was his three piece suit, but Olivia knew danger when she saw it. He reeked of controlled power. "Honestly I'm not surprised that Will never said anything. He can be quite overprotective when he sets his mind to it. Especially since he spends his time wading around in the minds of killers – that really brings out the protective streak." She rolled her eyes fondly. "And since I've been away in Europe there was no reason to bring me up in your... conversations."
Her slight pause set off alarm bells in Hannibal's head, but he couldn't be bothered to act on his senses. Besides, there was no way Olivia could know about the quiet, whispering manipulations and blackout-inducing drugs he'd been using on her brother. But at the same time, something was different about her. His curiosity overrode his survival instincts. For now.
She rounded back on Crawford, her shoe groaning against the floor. She made the simple movement look elegant. "I want to see him." It wasn't a request. Jack nodded.
"It's the least I can do. I'll see it done." He made a note of it on his desk. "Do you have somewhere to stay?"
Olivia nodded, her gaze sliding behind Jack to look at the case photos. "I can stay at Will's. I have a key." She answered softly, walking around Jack on silent feet.
Hannibal noticed that she kept him in her peripheral vision at all times.
"Is this the case?" She looked at the bodies, their torn forms discarded and displayed. She tilted her head to the side. Jack nodded again. She absently scooped up the abandoned case file and flipped through it, scanning her brother's findings.
Olivia focused on the first picture displayed on the board, where a naked girl lay impaled on the antlers of a buck's decapitated head. She didn't even flinch. There was a certain arrogance in the kill, a cool precision only found in the cruel. It reeked of contempt for mankind. "This wasn't Will." She whispered, eyes still glued to the photo.
"I'm sorry, Olivia but this was Will's first murder. It happened shortly after he started working the Garrett Jacob Hobbs case. Somehow along the way, he forgot who he was. He killed Cassie Boyle thinking that he was Hobbs himself. All we found of Abigail Hobbs was her ear; it was in Will's sink." Jack replied softly.
She shook her head again, steel in her eyes. "No, look. Look at how her body is displayed. Only a few days after you discovered that the girl was impaled by antlers, this" she tapped on the photo "is left behind? That's no coincidence, it's arrogance – this killer, this-" she looked down at the case file. "Chesapeake Ripper was confident enough to know that he'd get away with it. It's practically a gift to you, the way he has her displayed – he wanted you to know that this wasn't Hobbs, that a new predator is in town and intends to stay. He's toying with you. And see how she's left there, naked, at her most vulnerable? It's a disrespect to who she was as a human being. The Chesapeake Ripper has a very low opinion of his fellow mankind." Olivia whirled around to face the two men. "That's not who my brother is and you know it."
Hannibal was in shock, which was not a common occurrence. He had complete control over every part of his life, including his little drama he composed in the FBI. She was changing things, taking away his control. The way she spoke... she was adamant that it wasn't Will, which he of course knew to be true. But how did she know? She talked as if she understood the Chesapeake Ripper – understood him, at least on a basic level.
Jack must've sensed Hannibal's emotions, for Hannibal knew that his face had remained emotionless, and went to explain. "Olivia is like Will; she can empathize too." Jack's calculating eyes roved over the small brunette, already thinking of a way to get her to work for him. Let it be known that Jack Crawford was a problem solver.
Interesting. Unlike Will, she didn't seem haunted by the images displayed on Jack's whiteboard. Hannibal found his gaze sliding back to Will's sister, only to find her already studying him, her head tilted as before. He didn't see terror dancing in her eyes, only mild curiosity – in him.
Unnerved by her stare – and nothing unnerved him anymore – Hannibal spoke. "Do you need a ride back to Will's house? I'm happy to drive you."
Her eyes, filled with glass and brittle steel, revealed nothing as she nodded her head once. "That would be lovely, thank you." She gracefully slid around Jack's desk. "Do you mind if I keep this?" She asked Crawford, her face polite and expressionless. Grudgingly, Jack nodded. "Thank you." She smiled tightly when Hannibal held open the door for her.
"So you say you were in Europe. May I ask what for?" Hannibal asked as he walked Olivia to his car, her surprisingly small luggage held tightly in his grip.
She had to lengthen her stride to keep up with him, but her voice remained light. "I'm a dancer, or was a dancer. Ever since I was little I've been dancing. A sponsor saw one of my shows and offered me a trip all around Europe to learn ballet from the best. I needed a break from Virginia anyways, and after a lot of convincing from Will, I went."
"How old are you?" He asked, wondering how she fit into Will's unstable lifestyle.
"Seventeen."
"I find it hard to believe that Will allowed his seventeen-year-old sister to travel halfway across the world without him there to look out for you." Hannibal frowned, trying to picture a protective Will Graham letting his baby sister go.
"Like I said, it took a lot of convincing." She smiled. "But in the end, Will knew that I needed to be away from Virginia, at least for a while. There were things... when I was younger..." Her eyes became distant, her face full of past pain, but in a fraction of a second it was gone. "I had nothing more to learn from the ballet teachers here and the last thing Will wanted was to see me dancing below my ability. So he let me go." Her gaze slid to his profile. "You're European, right?"
Her brief flash of vulnerability gnawed at his curiosity, but he kept his voice casual. "Yes. I was born in Lithuania. I've traveled all over Europe, and stayed in Florence for a time. It's a beautiful country." His thoughts were not of the scenery, however, but of his victims and his sister. And of the food.
"Something tells me you weren't there for the Louver and the Eiffel Tower." Olivia muttered, her eyes flickering over to the barely concealed predator walking beside her. Every step he took was measured, controlled. Cool and precise power radiated off him in waves. How had Will not seen this?
Hannibal kept walking, feigning nonchalance while on the inside he buzzed. If she kept on shooting around in the dark but still finding her target he was going to have to do something about her. This put a wrench into his perfect plans. But Hannibal let none of his emotions show, simply holding the car door open for her and placing her luggage in the backseat.
"If you also have Will's empathetic ability, how come you didn't pursue a job in the field of investigation? I know that before Will's unfortunate fall, he was quite invaluable to the FBI." The sympathy and grief was perfectly replicated, the lie rolling easily off his tongue, but around her he felt exposed. He shifted his grip on the steering wheel. "I'm sure Jack would be happy to welcome you."
She snorted softly, the noise somehow sounding delicate from her. "You're not the first person to ask me that, Dr. Lecter. I suppose I thought about it for a while, but I was consumed with dance. Will had his thing, and I had mind. And after seeing how it tore Will up inside, I lost sight of the appeal." She frowned, looking down at the file in her lap. "But now that has to change. Will needs me."
Hannibal easily twisted his own personal concern into looking worried for her. "I wouldn't be so eager, Ms. Graham. That case drove Will into madness. I'd hate to see that happen to you as well."
"Please, call me Olivia. Something tells me that this won't be the last time I see you. Far from it, I think." Her eyes were telling him something, but it was gone before Hannibal could decipher it. "And you needn't be so concerned, although that's very thoughtful of you." She added quietly. "Will and I are like two sides of the same coin. We both have this strange gift to perfectly empathize with anyone. An overactive imagination, Will calls it." Olivia sighed, turning to look out the window. "Unfortunately both of us only have half of the whole package." She flashed him a wry grin, even though her eyes were flat and empty. "Apparently you can't get the whole thing."
They were almost in Wolf Trap and Hannibal was desperate for answers. "Is there any chance you would share those details with me? As a doctor I'm naturally curious about such a unique gift." He asked slowly, trying to feign casual interest.
Olivia fiddled with the file in her lap. "I'm not prone to the issues the empathy inflicts on my brother. Once I'm out of someone's head, I stay out until I need to go back in. Mannerisms, thoughts, and opinions don't follow me once I leave. I'm not haunted by nightmares, and my mind doesn't twist reality around a case." She shrugged her shoulders once. "I have the control he so craves." She chuckled humorlessly into her hands.
Hannibal's car pulled up into the driveway of Will's farmhouse. Olivia could hear the barking from inside the car. "Seems like Will's picked up a few more friends while I've been away." She murmured, face soft. "Thank you for the ride." She turned and smiled gratefully at Hannibal, even though she could see danger lurking behind his maroon eyes.
Olivia quickly slid out the car, grabbing her suitcase as she did. Before she could shut the door, Hannibal leaned over across the console, knowing that she didn't want him to walk her to the front door. "And what is it that Will has?" She looked up from the case file in her hands and graced him with the shadow of a smile.
"His boundless compassion for strangers and ability to sympathize with them. While he's horrified by what his killer do and rallies against it, I… I just can't bring myself to care. I'll see you around Dr. Lecter." And before he could say anything else, she shut the door and walked up the driveway.
let me know what you think!
