Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen! For those of you who are not familiar with my prior works, I am x-xMasqueradeAngelx-x and this is the first chapter of my newest fanfic based on this years TV series of Hannibal.

I usually try to update my fanfiction's weekly but sometimes this has to be stretched out to a fortnight to comply with the amount of orders I get on my Etsy store and to allow for updating other fanfiction's and writing new chapters for the novel I am working on.

I will delete and/or report reviewers who leave flames. I don't believe there is any need for them on Fanfiction.

PLEASE NOTE - This fanfic takes place during and after the events of Episode 12 Relevés. So if you have not watched up until the end of Episode 12, this Fanfic will contain spoilers.

Now that all that stuff is out of the way; please enjoy!

Minnesota. The skies grey and bleak as ever, welcomed Hannibal Lecter into there midst. As he got out of his car and shut the door behind him, he looked up to the three bedroomed bungalow that had once housed the Hobb's family. It seemed trivial really; the way people became attached to such things, simply by making connections through memories long since past. But still; Hannibal did the same even now, the air that had engulfed him that morning was one filled with many interesting elements. Curiosities. He was a one manned audience to the events that happened there that day. It almost disappointed him as much as it did quietly surprise him.

Garrett Jacob Hobb's was such a painfully careless man. He may have taken care to honour every part of his killings, but at what cost? He was a man; desperate to end his story the way he had planned it. His final act, however, was ultimately his downfall. Hannibal had given him the time and the means to get out. But instead, his choices lay with the ultimate sacrifice, his daughter. The one thing that stood between them, naturally, was her mother. He remembered the scent that impaired the otherwise calming fragrances that hung in the air. Slightly salty, her blood was not at all sweet, the way she writhed on the floor, beneath Will Graham's clumsy hands, was so undignified. Garrett Jacob Hobb's disposed of her in such a wasteful manner, his eyes on his true prize. But his time to honour her was drawing to a close.

Hannibal could recall the moment that he stepped into the kitchen as clear as if it were repeating before his eyes. Garrett Jacob Hobb's body was slumped against the kitchen counters, his eyes on Will Graham with satisfaction lingering in the otherwise cold eyes of a killer. He was proud of his accomplishments. It was only when Hannibal's eyes came to rest upon the girl that Will was desperately trying to save that he saw the girl he had ultimately failed. Taking charge in order to play his part; Hannibal reassumed his role of an innocent bystander, stepping in to help. Lowering himself upon her, Hannibal's actions enabled Will to back away and take in what he had done. Gazing upon the fear and despair in Will's eyes, Hannibal was surprised to see how conscious Abigail Hobb's appeared to be. She was watching him. Feeling the blood that tried to escape from the deep cut in her throat, Hannibal applied firm pressure, his single hand enveloping her throat completely. Seeing the clear implications that Garrett Jacob Hobb's had been a hunter; he could see why Abigail held an appeal. Her blue eyes were exactly like that of a doe. Expressive, wide and open…She was pleading with him, her eyes appealing to his not to let her slip away into the darkness. Even as she slipped from consciousness, he remained at her side, helped the paramedics to sustain the bleeding and using his hand to hold onto hers. A reminder for the brief glimpses of light, that she was not alone.

He couldn't say why it reminded him of his childhood. He had become so adept at closing off the areas of his memory that he did not wanted to be reminded of, that he wondered how a girl as inexperienced and innocent as she were, could have gotten through the walls with something as simple as her eyes. It was in that moment that he knew things may not be quite a simple as the game he had planned.

As Hannibal walked up the steps that led into the house that had once been considered a family home, he considered the attachments that people held to such structures. Simply because of the memories that such places held. Yet as he walked into the living room and saw the place that Nicolas Boyle's body had fallen, he continued to reflect on that first day. He recalled her frail body in the ambulance, her ragged breath and sheer white complexion as she faded in and out of consciousness. He remembered looking over her; both intrigued and admiring of her determination to fight for her life. Even in her subconscious, Abigail knew she had to fight. It intrigued him. Even as he remained fixated at Abigail's bedside. She had no one. A wounded fawn. Alone in a world of hunters. Tonight; he would be her protector. Her guardian. Staying awake until the point of exhaustion, Hannibal eventually fell asleep – his hand all the while remaining upon hers. Just in case she awoke.

But alas, the sleeping fawn would continue to sleep on and he would have to return to his practice.

It would be rude to cancel on his patients, but as he looked upon Abigail's face, her features calm, he couldn't help the reflex squeeze he offered her limp palm. But as surprised as Hannibal had been by his own unintended action, it failed to compare to the light movement that followed from Abigail's hand in reciprocation. That small spark of life had affected Hannibal in a way he hadn't believed were possible. He had felt the life leave so many people in his lifetime and yet Abigail Hobb's was a life force he desired to see awaken. Looking down at his blood stained cuff, Hannibal could see the way that his hand overshadowed hers. So pale and slender in comparison…

Those thoughts would continue to linger in his mind, long after he returned from the hospital. During his working hours, however, Hannibal did not allow himself the luxury of thinking about personal concerns. He was a professional and dedicated to his work as a psychiatrist, even if that entailed listening to the repetitive and sometimes tedious problems that haunted the minds of those who entered his office. But once he was free of his obligations, his first thoughts were of Abigail Hobb's, and further, of his discarded clothes. Returning to his bathroom where they lay, Hannibal retrieved the shirt he had worn during the previous day. Pausing to look at it, Hannibal observed the blood, the pad of his thumb running over the fabric as a frown creased his brow. Removing his jacket, Hannibal rolled up his sleeves and lowered the shirt into the water. Spending his time washing out the blood, his hands kneaded into the material. He wanted to get rid of the blood. Her blood.

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

As Hannibal looked out into the grey afternoon, he took note of the way the trees still awaited the growth of new leaves. A new cycle. Breathing a sigh, Hannibal knew he had to remain objective. His drive to Minnesota was almost completely consumed with his thoughts on the situation at hand.

Hannibal knew he had two paths before him. The question was; which was he prepared to take?

Jack Crawford was piecing together Abigail's part in her Father's crimes and Hannibal knew that Jack would stop at nothing to see her behind bars. Then again, Hannibal knew all too well the head of the behavioural analysis unit also wouldn't oppose to her death. Either way, the problem, as he saw her, would be dealt with. Since his escapades with the Chesapeake ripper, Jack had become obsessed with closure. So much so that it made him emotionally unbalanced in both his work and his personal life. It affected his attitudes towards the killers he sought and the team in which he relied on to catch them. Although he did not consider himself to be, Jack Crawford was losing a battle with the evidence of the crimes before him and the ability to remain objective of them. He was seeing the things that he chose to see, above what was really there. That would be his downfall.

Abigail Hobb's was a part of the only other case that linked to the copycat. Hannibal knew that Jack believed, if only he could solve one, it would lead to the answer to the other. The very thing that stood in his way however, was the one thing that Jack Crawford would never anticipate. Let alone Will Graham or even Abigail Hobb's. The feelings that this one girl had evoked from Hannibal had amazed the skilled psychiatrist. But he remained cautious. Abigail Hobb's was a weakness…one that he had allowed to develop over time. He would have never protected someone who had killed another, risking his own exposure, before her. Let alone continued to protect her when she had failed to keep their secret buried.

So why her?

It was a question Hannibal had been asking himself since Nicolas Boyle's body was uncovered. Why did he continue to give her the chance to prove herself to him? The chance to prove her loyalty; by keeping his secret, just as he had kept hers. Did he really care that much about what happened to her, beyond a need to protect himself? He was not the first to experience the circumstances that had befallen him. His parent's deaths when he was eleven years old or the looters that took his sisters life. He was not the first to lose relatives, or to grow with those traumatising experiences to shape him as a man. Of course, his experiences were unconventional, but then, he was an unconventional man.

Hearing the fumbling of a key clumsily clicking in the lock of the door, Hannibal knew the time for his decision was looming close.

Now here they stood. Hannibal Lecter. Abigail Hobbs. One; a serial killer blending his way in the world as a member of a pack and the other a doe, impressionable, young and inexperienced.

'If I run they'll catch me won't they…you can't protect me anymore,' Abigail began, realising just how hopeless her situation was becoming.

'They'll arrest you when they find you; yes…and Will.'

'Did he kill Marissa?'

'They will believe he did. They will believe he killed others too.'

As the pieces started to fall into place, Abigail's hands fell from Hannibal's, disbelief shrouding her face as she backed away.

'How many people have you killed?' Abigail questioned, fear lacing her voice as Hannibal stepped forward and took her hand, his fingertips lightly caressing the side of her face.

'Many more than your father.'

Looking into her eyes with nothing but honesty, Hannibal could see Abigail struggling to process what she had probably been aware of all along. But his confirmation of the acts he had committed was no easier to digest.

'Are you going to kill me?' she stammered finally, looking into his eyes as he stepped closer towards her and looked down into her fearful expression.

'I'm so sorry Abigail. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you in this life.'

Bracing herself for what was about to come, Abigail could already feel the racing heartbeat that refused to still, the sudden onset panic and Hannibal. His dark eyes pouring into hers, the wide blue doe eyes that emitted every trace of fear and emotion that she felt in that very moment. She was feeding him with it. As his arms shifted, one carefully slid behind her slender waist and the other around her fragile neck. Abigail knew he could feel the way her body shook violently in his strong arms.

'Shh…' he soothed as a sob escaped her throat, Abigail's eyes filling with tears as she closed them tightly, focusing on his words. Slow and gentle.

'It will be over soon, I promise.'

'I have to know one thing…' Abigail began, trying to blink back the tears as she suppressed a sob.

'Anything…' he murmured in return, taking in the light scent of her hair.

'What is it about me that makes the people I care about want me dead?' Searching his expression for answers, Hannibal simply smiled and put a hand to her cheek.

Running his hands through her dark tresses, Abigail could feel the cool steel against her neck before she saw it. She could feel it pushing down her silk scarf and pressing flush against her neck. Yet her scar felt as though it were on fire. Breathing heavy and fast, Abigail clung to his coat with both hands and waited for the inevitable darkness to consume her.

'Please…answer me…' she breathed, Hannibal opening his eyes to meet hers at her plea, his forehead against hers.

Sharp, hot pain seared through the side of her face in response, bringing Abigail to her knees as she lost the strength to stand. Yet Hannibal was close behind her, Abigail's hands still clinging to him, yet the harder she tried, the weaker she became in her hold on him. She was losing the fight to stay conscious.

'Hannibal…' she uttered, her vision blurring as the pain throbbed.

'Forgive me…' he whispered, his lips touching the tip of her ear as he offered words of comfort.

Seeing the familiar darkness that began to overwhelm her vision and balance, the pain slowly numbed her body. So why did she still feel like she was falling?

'Abigail…I told you that I am nothing like your Father. Believe me…I meant every word. You are something much more than you could ever comprehend.'

'Then why?' she persisted, tears slipping down the silk of her ghostly pale cheeks, though she could barely see anything through the darkening curtain that was fast removing Abigail of her sight.

'Because you do not deserve the life that fate so cruelly gave to you. As I said before, you are not a monster. I know what monsters are. I am a monster. But you, you are an innocent victim, one that has held my curiosity and attention from the day we met. You became an obligation, my responsibility and my responsibility you will remain…until your last breath…'

As the pain threatened to engulf Abigail, she felt for his hand and entwined her fingers with his as she tried to squeeze onto it with all the strength she had. 'Don't leave me to die alone,' she whispered. 'Please…if it's the last thing I can ever say to you…don't let go…'

Well, I hope I have done my job in leaving you on the edge of your seats wanting more! This is my first new fanfic that hasn't been an ongoing one in about two years, so I am very excited about starting it and I hope it comes across!

I would love to stay and say more but as it is 3:30am in the UK, I really need to think about getting some sleep!

Thank you for reading and to those who review, I will always be grateful to everyone who takes the time to read my work. It's always an absolute pleasure.

Goodnight!

~x-xMasqueradeAngelx-x