In case you`re wondering about the continuity, its takes place between seasons 3 and 4 of Dexter and uses the movie version of Hannibal and later some Red Dragon characters. I don't know I just like the thought of Anthony Hopkins mentoring a young Dexter.
I`ve always wondered why I hate psychiatrists. Maybe I`m a scientologist at heart…maybe I'm afraid of knowing my true self. Or maybe I just can't stand paying over fifty bucks just to talk about how shitty my childhood was in one hour. No. No its none of that actually. Its because of him. It was a rather cold and rainy day in Florida, shocking because it was the middle of July. I must`ve been at least twelve, I don't really know or care how old he was, and even to this day I honestly don't. He must`ve been my fifth psychiatrist…that year…don't judge me. Hey, you saw season one you know what I`m about.
"So, you remember what you have to do right?" Harry said as he pulled into the driveway of a place called Chesapeake house.
"Yes dad." I said glumly.
"Well…repeat it back to me." He said sternly.
"If he asks me a question. Think about the truth, then tell him the opposite." I said, not wanting to go through this nonsense.
"You can't let anyone see your Dark Passenger okay?" Harry asked leaning over with a very serious look on his face.
I looked down, I didn't want to answer him. I didn't want to walk out of this car. I wanted to go home and go to bed. Forever. But I forced myself to answer anyway, "Okay dad."
Harry nodded and let me out. Once inside I had my sense of smell and sound blasted with a bizarre combination of weird honey scented perfumes and classical music. Whoever this guy was, I immediately hated him.
"He's a friend of sergeant Matthews Dexter." Harry told me, kneeling, "He's helped cops with post shooting traumas, I`m sure he`ll help you as well, just remember…"
"Don't let him in." I finished.
"Good boy." He said patting my head and smiling.
"Excuse me." The effeminate voice of the desk clerk said, "But doctor Lecter said he will see him now."
Harry smiled and nodded then sternly turned back to me and said, "Remember what I said."
I nodded and walked into his office. It was so…gaudy, but in an elegant way. There were sketches, paintings and drawings of famous European buildings, castles and palaces. There were plants I couldn't recognize and his couches were made from a material that was soft, but cold as ice. Then there was the doctor himself. He looked harmless enough, average height, weight, he seemed to be in his thirties, with thick brown hair slicked back. His face was…unsettling to say the least. His smile reminded me of a snake's face and his, they never blinked the whole time, he closed them every now and then, but he never blinked uncontrollably.
"Hello Dexter." He said in a controlled and posh European accent.
I hate to derail but, his accent bothered me, even to this day I couldn't detect its exact origins. It sounded British but not. It sounded Welsh but not. It sounded north-eastern European, but inhuman as well.
"Hi." I said simply and glumly as I sat down and winced slightly at the cold touch of the couch.
"My name is doctor Hannibal Lector." He said pulling up a chair and picking up a clipboard with questions on it. "We`ll start off with something simple, do you ever have thoughts of violence?"
Refreshed by his directness I answered without hesitation, "No."
"Have you ever hurt an animal?"
"No."
"Does it make you angry when your teachers tell you what to do?"
"No."
"How often were you breastfed?"
"N…What?"
"I asked if you ever had thoughts of hurting someone?" He lied.
"Uh…no never." I was a bit shaky now.
"Do you ever have thoughts of suicide.?"
Having never been asked that before I hesitated, and it was very noticeable, not a few seconds like usual but a few minutes. I`ve never thought of killing myself but, Harry told me to lie to all these questions. Did he know I was lying before? Or was my twelve-year-old brain playing tricks on me?
"No. I never had thoughts of killing myself." I finally answered.
He cocked his brow and twisted his head with a cocky chuckle, then propped up his left leg on his right knee.
"I understand you have a sister." He said with a small chuckle.
"Y-Yes." I said, with an out of nowhere stutter.
"Have you ever had thoughts of hurting or killing her?"
"No!" I shouted with another genuinely honest answer.
"Would you like to kill her?"
"Of course not!" This time I stood up.
"You sure about that?" He was completely amused by my outburst. I kept thinking 'What type of sadist delights in a child's thoughts of violence?' Lector checked some stuff off on his clipboard, "I mean, she's ten, going through puberty probably, wants to do everything with you, or trying desperately to impress dear old dad. Must annoy you awful lot no?"
"No. I love Debra." I said, turning away. "And she loves me, I`d never hurt her. Ever."
"You`re adopted yes?"
"Y-Yes."
"So, she probably doesn't see you as a real member of the family."
"Shut up."
"You probably don't see yourself as a true Morgan."
"Yes, I do!"
"Can you even remember your mother's face? Your real one?"
"My real mother's name is Doris Moser." I said very firmly.
"Has she ever hugged you?"
"All the time!"
"Said I love you ever?"
"Of course!"
"Did she ever mean it?"
"Why wouldn't she?"
"You tell me." Hannibal said with a smirk.
I started shaking, I never shake. I never get rattled. Who was this guy? I wrapped my arms around my waist tightly and felt like I was going to throw up. Of course, my step-mother loved me. She had to. She…she had to, right?
"So, you want to kill Debra?" He continued as if the other questions didn't exist.
"Shut up."
"As I understand it, your father, step-father sorry, found you in a shipping container covered in blood. That must`ve been traumatizing."
"That never happened!" I shouted.
"Boy you really don't know anything?" Lector's voice was full of amusement.
I didn't answer, I hated this man. I wanted to kill him. Mutilate him, chop him into little pieces and throw him in a swamp. That's when he asked probably the scariest question I'd ever been asked.
"Would you like a snack Dexter?" He pulled out a golden Japanese styled lunchbox of all things.
He opened it up and pulled out a napkin then five items of food, lined them out all neatly and perfectly aligned. A small tub with a gold lid that said beluga, some fruit, some foul-smelling crackers, well I thought they smelled bad. Some blue cheese and small plastic tub with a white top.
"Fig?" He said offering it up.
"No…whats that?" I pointed at the plastic tub.
"Caviar." He ignored me and picked up the gold lid tub.
"You know what I was pointing at." I said firmer.
"I don't think you`d like it." He said taking off the lid.
Inside was something I`d been trying to forget and almost succeeded a few times. It was a lumpy piece of grey…flesh? It was veiny and had lines all about it. It looked like…a piece of brain. Maybe it was monkey brain. Cow brain. No. Stop kidding yourself Dexter. It was human. He had a human brain in that tub.
"Cheese." I said quickly.
He smiled charmingly, the same way I did in college and still do to this day.
"Have you ever had this before?" He asked.
I shook my head.
"Well as my mother told me and both of yours told you, its always important to try new things." He handed me the small wedge of cheese.
I ate it very slowly, I can't remember the taste. It didn't kill me, so it wasn't poisonous, still to this day I`m a bit cautious around blue cheese.
"It appears as though our time is up Mr. Morgan." He gestured to the clock, "If I see you again, perhaps we can have a proper lunch."
I simply left the room, Harry was waiting for me with a smile on my face. I faked one for him as he grabbed my shoulder.
"So how was it?" He asked.
"Interesting. But I'd like to come back…next month." I said with fake enthusiasm.
"He didn't see it right?" Harry whispered into his ear.
"Not at all." I said earning a at on the head from dad.
As we walked to the car I thought long and hard about that visit. That man Hannibal, he was like me. He had a dark passenger, he loved to torture people and he'd probably killed people too. I only saw him three more times after that. I didn't see him after the fourth time at all, until the day LaGuerta announced we had a new detective and a new profiler from Boston.