Disclaimer: I own nothing other than some of the plot.
I knew Mason Verger wanted personal revenge on Doctor Lecter, and after his capture, the FBI wanted me to stand down? I think not. Hannibal Lecter may be a murderer, but he needed me, and I had to be there for him, like he had been for me. I drove to the Verger Estate, against Pearsall's orders, in my old Mustang. I battled through muddy fields full of cows, and thick bushes, until I got close enough to the Verger Estate without getting noticed. I parked in a lay-by, before getting out of my car. I threw my jacket onto the back seat, before locking the door. I then took out my .45 as I walked to the barn.
I had watched the same van, with a different licence plate, to evade tracking, drive to the barn a few minutes before. When I reached the barn, I crept around the edge, until I came to a large sliding door. The door was nearly closed, leaving only an inch for me to peer through. I saw two men, and Doctor Lecter. I breathed a sigh of relief, I think, that they hadn't killed him yet. I waited for a few moments, not seeing any one else in the barn, before sliding the door open, and pointing my gun at the two men, which were standing fairly close together.
"FBI! Don't move!" I shouted.
The two men started talking in Italian.
"Quiet!" I shouted at them.
One of them shouted at the other, before they both pulled their guns out. I shot the smaller man, who had shouted, before shooting the larger man twice. I was more accurate on the first kill, as he was already dead, but the other one was on his back, trying to reach for his gun. I ran to him, and kicked it away.
"Don't move, lie on your stomach." I hissed at him.
I cuffed the two men together by their ankles. Only then did I notice the boars, trying to barge through the other gate.
"Good evening Clarice. Just like old times." Doctor Lecter called from behind me.
"Shut up." I sighed.
I ran to Doctor Lecter, who was still attached to a wooden cross. I started to cut the rope with a knife, which held his arms to the sides.
"I'll cut you loose. If you touch me, I'll shoot you." I said, as I finished cutting through the rope holding his right wrist.
"Understood." He nodded.
"Do right, and you'll live through this." I said, beginning to cut through the rope on his left wrist.
"Spoken like a true protestant." He smirked.
I looked up from his wrist, to see the boars nearly breaking through the gate.
"Things might go faster if you handed me the knife." He said, taking it from my hand with his free one.
I held my gun up at him to prevent him from doing anything stupid.
"There was a third in the loft." He murmured.
I looked behind me as he spoke again.
"No Clarice, behind me." He said as he continued to cut the rope.
I looked behind him, noticing another man hiding behind a fan. I shot at him numerous times, before one of the bullets ricocheted and hit me in the shoulder. I dropped to the ground, flinging my gun a meter or so away from me. Doctor Lecter jumped down to aid me, picking up my gun, and then shortly after, he picked up me, just before the boars broke through the gate. I was now unconscious, as Doctor Lecter stood amongst the boars. They didn't attack him though; apparently they can smell fear, and Doctor Lecter was definitely not scared. However, the men on the floor were, and were pouring with blood.
Doctor Lecter began to walk out of the barn as he heard a voice from behind him.
"Cordell! Shoot him!" Mason Verger's voice shouted from across the barn, in the loft.
"No, I'm staying out of this." Cordell replied.
"You're involved is what you are! Now do it!" Mason hissed back at him.
"Hey, Cordell?" Hannibal called. "Why don't you push him in? You could always say it was me." He smirked.
view mirror, to find me still sleeping. My eyes opened for a moment, greeted by the darkness, and the soft rocking off the car, before I fell back out of consciousness.
Soon, we arrived at Chesapeake Bay. I was still sleeping, as Doctor Lecter carried me into the large lake house. He took me upstairs and laid me down on a king-size bed. He then changed me from my dirty, bloody clothes, and into a long, black dress, which made it easily accessible to my shoulder, which he cleaned and stitched up. My eyes flickered open as he was still stitching up the wound, but I soon fell back to sleep as he administered another large dosage of morphine.
When I woke, I felt extremely disorientated. I was in a room that I didn't know, in clothes that weren't mine, and I owned a killer headache. I sat up quickly; too quickly. I swayed to the side, falling from the bed. Soon, Doctor Lecter entered the room.
"Clarice, you should be resting." He said softly, helping me to my feet.
"I'm hungry." I murmured.
"Very well then." He said, coaxing me to the door.
"May I use the bathroom?" I breathed.
"Of course. It's through there." He pointed at a door in the bedroom.
He left me then, and I walked unsteadily to the bathroom. I bet he knows what I'm up to. I thought, but it didn't halt my plans. I didn't really need the bathroom, I just needed rid of him. I found my way out onto the corridor, noticing my cuffs, car keys, gun ect, sitting on a small table, underneath a painting, which hung from the wall. I picked up my handcuffs, hooking them over the waistband of my knickers. I made sure they were secure, and didn't make a noise as I walked, before climbing slowly down the stairs.
I walked around a corner, and the sudden breeze of food hit my face, making me queasy. I followed the smell, noticing a small snow globe on a table. I picked it up, and held it behind my back. As I approached the kitchen, I saw Doctor Lecter standing in front of the stove, stirring something. Paul Krendler, not surprisingly, was sitting at the end of the table, most likely drugged. I walked into the kitchen, holding the globe behind my back.
"Clarice." Doctor Lecter said, turning to face me.
I felt awful, my head was pounding, I felt sick, and I was overdosed with morphine. He observed my hand behind my back, and smiled slightly.
"What have you got there Clarice? Something to bash me on the head with? Put it on the table please." He said softly.
I placed the snow globe onto the table, sliding it unintentionally as I fell into the nearest chair.
"Hey, that's mine." Paul hissed angrily.
"Paul, don't be rude. You know how I hate rude people." Doctor Lecter said sternly to him.
"Say hello to our guest."
"Hello Agent Starling." Paul said, dragging the words out.
"Hello Paul." I whispered back at him. "May I have some wine please?" I asked, feeling rather ill.
"I don't think that's a good idea with the morphine Clarice." Doctor Lecter replied, walking over to Paul.
Doctor Lecter placed a bowl in front of Paul, placing a large straw in it. He held the other end of the straw to Paul's mouth. "Drink your broth." Doctor Lecter instructed.
Paul did as he was told, taking a large gulp of broth. He scrunched his face up at the taste.
"Eugh, its not very good buddy." As they spoke together, I discreetly took the butter knife from the table, holding it against my arm, waiting for my moment.
What I thought I'd do with a butter knife was beyond me, but I had to try something. After watching him wipe Paul's mouth, I spoke.
"May I have some wine?" Doctor Lecter approached me, leaving the bottle behind.
As he got close enough, I brought my arm up quickly. He caught my wrist, wrenching the knife from my grasp. He then tapped it gently on my cheek before.
"Tut tut tut." He smirked.
Doctor Lecter then placed the knife in his pocket, before walking around the other side of the table. Paul stayed quiet as doctor Lecter took a scalpel from the counter behind him. Doctor Lecter put the sharp end of the scalpel into a crevice in Paul's head. Paul didn't move, as I watched in astonishment. Doctor Lecter then removed the top of Paul's head, revealing his brain.
"Doctor Lecter?" I whispered, shocked at what he was doing.
"Now Clarice, this part of the brain is the pre frontal lobe. The brain will feel no pain when I remove it." He paused, watching for my reaction. "Apparently, it is the part of the brain which is responsible for good manners." He smirked.
He then cut part of the pre frontal lobe from Paul Krendler's brain. I gagged, looking away from them both as Doctor Lecter put the piece of the brain into a frying pan.
"Mm, smells good." Paul dribbled.
Soon, Doctor Lecter picked the piece of brain up, and placed it in to Paul's mouth. I gagged even more, breathing deeply from the sickness and morphine.
"May I have some wine please?" I breathed, swaying a little.
Doctor Lecter looked at me. "Maybe just a little." He said, pouring me half a glass before handing it to me.
I shook my head, a tear dripping from my eye at what I had just witnessed.
"No?" He said to me, before drinking the wine himself.
He glanced at the clock, noticing it was five to nine. He realised that he didn't have long left before the FBI showed up, but he didn't let it ruin his dinner party.
"Paul and I are going to clean up now." Doctor Lecter said, wheeling Paul into the next room.
I sat there for a moment in shock, before standing up from the table. I walked around the table unsteadily, before opening the door, revealing a hallway. I picked a candlestick holder up from the nearby table, before walking towards Doctor Lecter, who I could see standing in front of the door, doing something on the table in front of him.
I ran up to him, brandishing my candlestick, when he turned around abruptly, grabbing me by the wrists. He took the candlestick from me. I then tried to push myself away from him, but he pushed me back into the refrigerator. I tried once more to get away from him, but in doing so, he opened the fridge door, trapping my ponytail inside, before ripping the handle off after closing it. He placed it on the counter, smiling at me.
"Tell me Clarice, would you ever say 'stop, if you loved me you'd stop'?" He said softly.
I could feel his warm breath on my face as he spoke. I thought of an answer, but the Agent in me wouldn't let me say it.
"Not in a thousand years." I lied.
My lie was pretty good in my opinion, I almost convinced myself.
"Not in a thousand years?" He repeated.
He lunged forward, his mouth just inches from mine. He bared his teeth as if to bite me, before pulling back slightly.
"That's my girl." He whispered.
Suddenly, his mouth descended to mine. In all honesty, I was too shocked to react, but the agent in me couldn't let him get away. A tear spilled down my cheek, knowing that I had just chosen his fate for him. He broke the kiss on hearing the click of my handcuffs, bounding us together.
"Now that's really interesting." He said, holding our bound wrists in the air. "And I'm really pressed for time, so where's the key?"
He waited a moment for my reply, but I didn't speak.
"Where's the key?" He hissed more urgently.
I just stared at him blankly. The agent in me was too strong and my feelings and emotions were pushed out of the way. He turned around as much as the cuffs could let him, his eyes setting on a meat cleaver on the counter behind him. He picked it up, and yanked my wrist onto a nearby chopping board.
"Above, or below the wrist Clarice?" He said, motioning with the meat cleaver on my wrist.
Still, I didn't answer. Jack Crawford's words rang in my head, 'Never forget what he is'. He raised the meat cleaver in the air.
"This is really going to hurt." He said, before bringing the cleaver down.
I held my eyes shut, as I screamed. But as I screamed, no physical pain came to me. I reluctantly opened my eyes, to see Doctor Lecter gone, and running down the small hill at the back of the house. I pulled the fridge door open, which was holding my hair, with a great amount of force, which I wasn't sure I had, before running after him, keeping a safe distance.
The rain was pounding down against my face as I ran. He didn't realise I was following him when he climbed into a black van at the end of the garden, parked on a small off road track. I tried the back door of the van, praying for it to be open. It was. I climbed in silently, just as he pulled away. I went to pull the door closed, just as we drove over a bump, which made the door give out a loud bang.
I stepped back a little from the door, waiting for him to stop, and attack me. But he didn't stop, he carried on driving. After about five minutes or so, he began to slow down. He soon stopped, and I backed right up against the partition, which separated the back of the van from the front. I heard him get out of the van and his feet trudging through mud. I held my breath, waiting for him to open the door. I silently cursed when I realised I didn't have my weapon with me. I was unarmed, with no source of communication, in the back of Hannibal Lecter's van. Great. My conscience droned. Soon, the van door flung open and my eyes met with Doctor Lecter's. He cocked his head slightly.
"I didn't think you could surprise me more than you already had Clarice." He said, smiling a little.
I could see him holding his arm, which was wrapped in a now bloody shirt.
"Doctor Lecter." I breathed. "You need help." I whispered.
"They've been telling me that for years Clarice." He laughed mildly.
"I didn't think…" I began.
"No, you didn't think I would cut my own hand off, to save yours. I am still a man Clarice, capable of feeling."
"I never said to anyone that you were anything other than a man." I murmured, shaking a little.
"I know, and for that, I thank you." He replied.
"Please." I said unexpectedly. "You need medical help. Your hand…" I breathed.
"I have a room booked in a motel not far from here. Providing you don't have a telephone with you, I shall drive there now. I'm giving you a choice Clarice. Run back to the FBI, the people that despise you, almost as much as you despise them, or come with me." He said, walking to the front door of the van.
"Shit." I whispered almost silently.
I debated on what to do. Go back to a place where people hated me, or run with a cannibal, and be a wanted criminal.
"Tough call." I muttered to myself.
Soon, the van started up, making me jump. I climbed out of the van, closing the door behind me. He was about to pull away, thinking that I had made my choice to go back to the bureau. I ran to the front of the van, jumping in front of it. The rain and darkness was making it hard for us both to see. He climbed out of the van, and ran to me. I then thought that I was going to die. He looked angry, real angry. He stood in front of me, as I cowered away a little.
"Clarice, I could have killed you." He said softly.
I breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't angry, or if he was, he wasn't showing it in his voice.
"Let me drive." I said, running to the driver's side of the van.
He looked at me in astonishment, before climbing in beside me. I pressed my foot down hard on the accelerator, speeding down the mud track.
"Where to?" I asked after a few moments.
"The Chesapeake Motel." He said, still staring at me in astonishment.
"Isn't that dangerous?"
"We wont be there long." He replied.
Within five minutes, we were at the Chesapeake Motel. It was small, and it looked dirty. But it was either this, or let him bleed to death.
"I've already checked in, room four." He said after a moment.
I glanced at him, before we got out. He had been there, even when we were looking for him. Granted he might not have been there long, but he had still stayed there. We both ran to room four, after locking the van. When we got inside, we were both cold, and wet. As I thought, the room was small, with a dirty, single bed. There was also a small en-suite bathroom, which we both refused to use.
"Where's the first aid kit?" I said quickly.
"In the check in office I presume. Stay here, I wont be long."
"No, you stay. And if you move from this room, so help me God, I will kill you." I said sternly, rewarded with a smile from him.
I left the room, and ran through the still pouring rain, to the other side of the car park to the check in office. I walked in quickly, noticing a short, round woman sitting behind the desk.
"Hi, um, have you got a first aid kit?" I said quickly.
"What's happened lovey'? Are you hurt? She asked.
"No, my um, my husband is, he cut his cheek when shaving." I felt so stupid when I said that, realising how pathetic it sounded.
"It's bleeding rather badly." I continued.
"Oh right, I wont be long." She said, getting up from the desk, and walking into a room behind her.
It felt like an age had passed before she returned, holding a small first aid kit bag in her hand. She handed it to me.
"There you are lovey." She said, smiling.
"Thanks." I said as I rushed out of the door.
When I got to the room, my heart stopped. Doctor Lecter was lying on the bed with his eyes closed. He wasn't moving, and from where I was standing, he wasn't breathing either. I ran to his side and knelt down. I checked his pulse, it was low. I shook him a little.
"Hannibal?" I whispered. "Oh God, please wake up." Little did I know, he was already awake.
He savoured my words like it was the last drop of water on the earth. I broke open the first aid kit bag, not really knowing what some of its contents was.
"Clarice?" Doctor Lecter murmured.
"Yes?" I breathed, looking down at him.
He sat up, looking into my eyes.
"Put on the gloves. I can't do this myself." He said after a moment.
I nodded, and pulled on the pale green gloves.
"You need to clean the wound first." He said, noticing that the bleeding had almost stopped now.
I took the alcohol pads, and breathed deeply, before beginning to clean the wound. I noticed him flinch at the contact of the pads.
"That's it." He said, satisfied that it was clean.
"Now, use the styptic pad." I rummaged through the bag and found the 'styptic pad'.
"I just place it on there, right?" I asked nervously.
"Correct." He said, watching me closely.
I opened the packet, before analysing the wound. I breathed deeply, before placing it on. He was in pain, but didn't show it.
"Now hold it in place with some of that waterproof tape." I took the tape out of the box, and quickly, but neatly used it to secure the pad onto the wound.
"Good. Now the bandage." He said after a moment.
I took the bandage from the bag and opened the packet. I then began to carefully wrap it around the pad. Soon it was covered sufficiently, and I then noticed some panadol in the bag. I took them out and held them up to him.
"Thank you." He said, taking them from me.
"I think you'll need something stronger than that, but it will have to do for now." I murmured.
He swallowed a couple without water, before inspecting my handy work. I stood up, waiting for his verdict.
"Not bad." He smiled at me.
But I wasn't smiling. I made him do that to himself. Me, it was my fault. I stepped back a little from him. I pulled the bloody gloves off my hands and threw them onto the floor. I turned around, facing the wall, with my back to him. I then ran my hand through my hair. This is such a mess. I thought as I stared at the wall in front of me. He knew what I was feeling, and decided to stay quiet, to let me really feel what I was going through, before I made a decision. I breathed deeply before turning around, to find him staring at me.
"If this is going to work, I want rules, do you understand me?" I said, glaring at him.
"Of course." He smirked.
"We'll discuss it later." I said sighing.
"We need to get out of here." He said after a moment of silence.
He stood up from the bed, before picking up the first aid kit bag. I picked up the bloody gloves from the floor so we didn't leave any trace, before placing them into my trouser pocket. I followed him out of the door, closing it behind me. Thankfully, it had almost stopped raining as we walked to the van.
"Do you think you'll be able to drive?" He said, feeling ashamed of saying it.
"Yes." I said, glaring at him.
I got into the drivers side of the van, waiting for him to join me.
"Where to?" I said as I started the engine.
"Take the highway to Massachusetts, I'll direct you from there."
"Where are we going?"
"I've got a secluded house in Boston." It didn't seem like Doctor Lecter to have a place in Boston, or even Massachusetts for that matter.
I didn't speak again until I got onto the highway, speeding towards Massachusetts.
"Did it hurt?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I suppose, yes, it did." He said bluntly. "Did it hurt Clarice?" He asked.
"Pardon?" I said, confused.
"Did it hurt you?" He said, staring at me for an answer.
I stared at the road ahead of me, fighting my emotions. I knew it hurt. Christ, I thought it hurt more than anything in my life. Even more than my father's death. I was ashamed to admit it, but I cared. I cared a lot for Hannibal Lecter, and seeing him hurt, especially when he did it for me, killed me inside.
"Yes." I breathed. "More than you could ever imagine."
"Ah, realisation my dear." He smiled slightly.
"I know that was hard for you to admit."
"Yes, it was." I said, staring at the road ahead of me, tears stinging my eyes.
"Thank you Clarice."
"I love you, you know." I chocked.
"That's my girl."