Dr Lecter's Survival
A.N. I'm working on the basis that Hannibal's office rooms are inside his actual house since we're never shown an establishing shot of a different building from when he's at home or working with his patients, and it's not like that house looks small, let's be honest.
Hannibal's office was a shadow of it former self, with furniture overturned, the glass on the tables shattered and of course, the lifeless body of Franklin Froideveaux lying not far from the door, made for a ghastly image. The forensic team were gong over his office with a fine tooth comb but they wouldn't find anything to implicate Hannibal; he'd made sure of it. He'd removed his prints from Franklyn's neck and he was doing his utmost to exaggerate his injuries. If not for the fact that this had happened in his office - ergo, his home, Hannibal would have been content to dispose of the bodies and walk, or rather, limp away.
Inwardly, he was bored, very, very bored, as Jack Crawford continued to insist that this was not a 'simple matter of a poor choice of friends'. Luckily for Hannibal, Will appeared to be on his side as it were, and he was becoming increasingly agitated at Jack's questioning.
"It doesn't make sense, why would Budge come here if he was just after your patient?" Jack mulled aloud.
"Is this really the..." Will began but Hannibal spoke over him.
"Desperation," he answered Jack, "Tobias was in Franklyn's confidence - or he used to be, he knew when Franklyn would be here. It didn't matter to him that I was here also. According to Franklyn, Tobias had expressed his pride at murdering the trombonist and was afraid for his safety. Tobias said he planned to kill him...and then he did..." Lecter said. "It didn't matter that it happened in a public place or my office or anywhere else - his thinking was compromised."
"Why'd he try and kill you then?"
"Seriously, Jack?" Will sighed, "He's a witness! Murderers tend to kill witnesses, you know that as well as I do." The young agent was becoming agitated by Jack's incessant questioning, and though he too was curious, he really didn't think that it was anything to do with Dr. Lecter.
"Will," Hannibal scolded quietly. "...I thought he had killed both of you...Tobias was not specific..."
"He was taunting you?" Jack frowned, "Isn't that very specific to you rather than Franklyn?"
"He mentioned only that he had murdered two men when Franklyn tried to make him back down."
"Well, I think it's fair to say that it didn't work," Crawford replied with an ounce of sarcasm that Hannibal didn't appreciate at all.
"Are we done here?" Will asked him.
"Just one thing...Tobias Budge was able to kill two able bodied officers and walk away, now I don't mean to insult you, doctor, but you really don't strike me as the athletic type," Jack raised an eyebrow.
"No, my aunt used to say the same," Hannibal replied, "Which is why she was so adamant I learn from her...she was a skilled martial artist. It seems I owe her my life," he finished, his tone now taking on a decidedly amused manner.
"Just barely," Will said to him and Hannibal gave a small smile.
"I don't mean to be rude," Jack said again to Hannibal, seemingly ignoring Will, "But it is my job to ask these questions."
"Of course, I understand perfectly," Lecter said to him courteously, then looked down at his leg with a wince at the stab wound. "So..." he began soon after, looking back up to Jack, "For how long do you anticipate my office will be your crime scene?"
"A day...maybe two, but if you're thinking of going to back to work straight away I'd advise against it. I think you need to take some time off, I mean...you did just kill a man," Jack said to Hannibal, delicately.
"I am aware of that," Hannibal said, "It is not an entirely new concept to me; I was a surgeon, I had patients who died in the E.R."
"That's different," Crawford scoffed.
Hannibal stood slowly, purposely exaggerating his injuries and hovering a hand over his wounded thigh, "That depends on your point of view," he said, "Now...if we are finished here..."
"I'm sorry, but you can't really spend the night in a crime scene, not yet," Jack said.
"Ah," Hannibal blinked in realisation, "Then I will make hotel reservations," he said after a minute, awkwardly trying to reach inside his suit jacket for his mobile phone.
"You...you can stay with me...it's probably not as good as a hotel but..." Will stammered.
"Very kind of you, Will," Hannibal said, "I don't want to add to your troubles by accepting."
"I feel like this is my fault anyway...and you almost died..."
"Then, thank you," the doctor nodded.
"Good, at least I'll know where to find you both," Jack gave a smile as Hannibal turned to look at him.
"I assume you will not object if I take some clothes with me," Hannibal said stoically.
"No, go ahead."
The doctor then carefully and slowly traversed the distance to the doorway and with Will by his side, matching his slow pace, made his way through the elegantly decorated house, to his bedroom.
"I'll...erm...I'll wait in my car then..." Will said, "Unless you need my help..."
"No, thank you, I can manage," Hannibal said, and Will nodded before leaving.
As soon as the door clicked shut, the doctor's posture instantly straightened and he sighed deeply in annoyance. Having his home invaded by the FBI wasn't exactly how he'd have planned this if given more time, and it wasn't his idea of a good time. He knew they'd find nothing incriminating, but having to take time off work to appear as though he was 'shaken' or 'affected' was a large thorn in his side.
Although, he had to admit, he did feel rather terrible about Franklin's death, Hannibal had hoped to spare him, even save his life, but it wasn't to be, and he saw that as a failure on his part. Franklin had known too much, and he had cause to suspect even more, and that was too dangerous, but at least he had spared him the fate of being murdered - likely in a very brutal way - by his 'friend.' It was a small consolation.
Pushing the thoughts from his head, he carefully and methodically folded his clothes and soon, he was walking back down through the house to rejoin Agent Crawford.
"I trust your men will limit their access to my home," Hannibal said to Jack, "And to not remove anything unless absolutely necessary."
"Of course," Jack nodded.
"What is to be done about...Franklin?" the doctor asked, his voice filled with emotion.
"We'll have to get in touch with his family, and..."
"He had no family, and very few friends," Hannibal sighed, "Only doctors and...Tobias..."
"Which were you; his friend or his doctor?" Jack asked curiously.
"I like to believe I was both..." the older man answered sadly, "I want him to have a...respectable resting place. If necessary I will make arrangements..."
"That's very generous of you..."
"He was my friend," Hannibal said simply, "...Goodnight, Jack," he added, then left, taking great care to showcase his injuries on his way out of the building and onto the street to Will's car.
The sky was darkening and the dim light cast eerie shadows across Lecter's face, emphasising his weariness to Will as the doctor gently put his bag on the back seat, opened the passenger side door and carefully sat down. Hannibal leaned his aching head back against the car seat as Will turned the key in the ignition, "I fear I won't be good conversation tonight, Will," he said.
"Understandable," his friend replied and nothing else was said.
Hannibal turned his attention to watching the buildings pass by his window as the vehicle picked up speed. He was grateful that Will didn't feel obligated to speak, or to make him speak, either and he made sure to fidget in his seat occasionally to clutch a wound or a bruise and sigh in frustration or close his eyes in exhaustion. Will had defended him, albeit unnecessarily to Jack Crawford so he decided to make sure to convince the younger man that his actions were justified. In his own, warped way, Hannibal was trying to be the honest friend he really wasn't, but sometimes wanted to be.
After about three quarters of an hour of silence broken only by the younger man trying to tune the cars' more or less broken radio Will checked to see if Hannibal was still awake before deciding to speak.
"I erm...I don't really have any food in..." Will laughed nervously as he gripped the steering wheel, "I'm okay with eating out of date stuff, but I wouldn't inflict it on anyone else, so, I'll...I'll stop and get something."
"Have I taught you nothing, Will? Should always be careful what you eat," Hannibal told him without moving. He was leaning his head back against the head rest with his eyes closed, and had been for some time.
"Old habits," Will shrugged, clearly not indenting to elaborate on the subject.
"One day I will teach you how to cook...properly," Hannibal remarked.
"Good luck, I've never been much use in a kitchen."
"All anyone ever needs is a good teacher," the doctor insisted.
"It'd all go to waste anyway if I managed to learn anything...I don't really have time to cook..."
"For the moment it's not important," Hannibal told him, "I'm not hungry, I'm tired. Food can wait."
"Alright then, I'll get something in the morning," Will answered, and it didn't take him much longer to drive to his home in Wolf Trap.
Not fifteen minutes later, Will carried Hannibal's bag of clothes inside and warded off the eager clan of strays that greeted them at the doorstep, but the doctor didn't seem to mind the attention of the dogs. He reclined on the sofa and they seated themselves at his feet contentedly while Will took the bag into the spare bedroom that had never been used.
"I out your things in the spare room," Will told Hannibal coming into the main sitting room and leaning against the door frame. "They really like you, huh?" he remarked a second later.
"Animals can sense our emotions far better than we can," Hannibal said. "It's why some find it easier to relate to them, instead of people," he finished, gently stroking the fur of one of the dogs.
"...Look...I'm...I'm so sorry about this...I..." Will sighed and dragged a hand through his hair.
"I told you; none of this is your fault, no matter how much you want the blame," Hannibal insisted.
"But it isn't your fault either."
"No...the fault belongs with Tobias, not you or I," Hannibal concluded.
"...Jack shouldn't have put you on the spot earlier," the younger man sighed.
"He was doing his job, what more was he to do? " the doctor raised an eyebrow and stood from the sofa. He walked towards Will, intending to make his way to the spare room.
"I don't know but..." Will broke off when Hannibal spoke again.
"Will...I wanted to thank you," the man said.
"...Why?"
"You survived," Hannibal smiled.
"So did you," Will replied with relief, a contrast to his frustration only seconds ago.
"We are both survivors, it's instinctive," Hannibal said with finality, "...Goodnight, Will," he added replied , watching his friend give a small, uneasy smile before taking he left Will alone in the room with his dogs.