The soft morning light crept into the chilly bedroom and behind Clarice's heavy eyelids. Being reluctant to awaken, she fought the invasive light by turning into the pillow. Darkness quickly flooded her sight and the sound of a gun being cocked filled her ears.

Immediately she threw herself into an awkward, upright position against her headboard, grasping at pillows and sheets, as if searching for her Colt .45, and choking out her silent scream.

Heart pounding painfully in her chest and her ears, the cold sweat beginning to drench her nightgown and sheets, eyes wide, she fought her terror as she instinctively surveyed the room she was in.

'Corners clear. Door closed. Closet empty. Blinds open but windows shut. No intruders. Liquor bottle on nightstand. Makeup and perfume on vanity dresser. Clothes and bathrobe crumpled on floor. This is a bedroom. This is my room.'

As reality came upon her, the adrenaline still flowed, but now there was no fear.

Letting her eyes close, Clarice rested her head back against her headboard as she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Tears of stress and anxiety flowed down her cheeks as she reluctantly allowed her body to relax.

'My room,' she thought. 'My sanctuary.'

As Clarice lazily swung her legs over the side of the mattress, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed, and she repeated the facts she forced herself to remember as she slowly prepared to start her day.

'Buffalo Bill, Jame Gumb, is dead. His bullet riddled body was cremated and his ashes scattered. His woman suit had been disposed of and his victims finally laid to rest. His dog, Precious, is under Katherine Martin's care.

'Katherine Martin is alive, safe, healthy, has decided to live temporarily with her mother under government protection, and is in therapy.'

Therapy. Clarice rolled her eyes and let out a quiet, humorless laugh as she thought of that word.

'Yeah, that's something I'd need too if I'd almost became a suit,' she thought to herself as she stripped naked of her pajamas. She threw them across the room, just missing the hamper, not that she cared, and shuffled to her dresser to retrieve some fresh panties and a bra.

Finding none in her dresser, she groaned and went over to her closet to check. She stopped when she saw the previous day's to-do-list tacked on the door.

Things to do:

Wash windows
Clean bathroom
Do Laundry
Deposit Check
Buy Groceries

"Damnit," she hissed as she picked up her bathrobe. Tying it shut, she mentally kicked herself for being lazy and left her room.

Down the hall in the kitchen, Ardelia could hear Clarice's door opening as she whisked eggs together.

"Morning, babe." Ardelia called, "Are you hungry?"

Clarice's stomach grumbled as she shuffled her way into the kitchen. She saw Ardelia's back as she leaned over the stove and could hear the sizzling of sausage and bacon on the griddle. She smiled, closing her eyes, and took in the comforting sounds and smells of southern cooking.

'It's the simple things in life that you cherish,' she thought to herself.

"Sure am. I see the sausage and bacon, so what else is there?" Clarice inquired as she shuffled to the coffee maker.

Ardelia smiled, and answered without looking at Clarice, "Eggs, biscuits, and hash with gravy."

"That sounds incredible, Dee. And it's a good thing you're cooking, cause you know I'd probably burn the crap out of it."

As Clarice poured her coffee, Ardelia turned to get the creamer for the fridge and saw Clarice in her robe.

She laughed, "Forget to do your laundry again?"

"No, I woke up this morning and decided that I was going to join a nudist colony, but chickened out as I walked out of the bedroom. I figured Krendler or maybe even Crawford might take it the wrong way."

Ardelia laughed understandingly and said, "Okay, but just in case you need them, go ahead and borrow some of my underwear so you can wash all of yours."

Clarice smiled as she stirred sugar into her coffee, "Thanks Dee, and don't worry, I'll give them back."

"I know you will. But just make sure they're either clean or mixed in with my laundry. I love you girl, but I'm not THAT into you," Ardelia joked as she turned to fully face Clarice.

Bringing her coffee mug to her lips, Clarice turned around and leaned against the counter as she let the coffee soothe her exhausted body.

But what one would think to be a simple action of facing a friend turned into a panic-filled Ardelia. It was then Clarice realized that she must look as bad as she felt.

"What the hell, Clarice?! Are you okay?" Ardelia blurted as she rushed to her friend's side and took in her appearance.

Forget a simple bedhead and sleep eyes, Clarice looked horrible. Deep, bruising bags fell under Clarice's nearly sunken eyes, and it gave Clarice and almost undead look as the color of her eyes and disheveled hair contrasted with her now paler-than-usual skin.

She looked like she hadn't slept in years.

Seeing Dee panic, Clarice sought to calm her friend and tried to downplay the situation.

"Of course, Dee. I'm fine, I just had a rough night last night, that's all."

Humorlessly laughing, Ardelia gripped Clarice's shoulder as she tried to examine her eyes.

"Yeah, and exactly how many rough nights have you had recently, Clarice? Because you look like you haven't been sleeping at all." She said worried.

"What would make you say that?" Clarice questioned with fake innocence, trying to bow out of the conversation.

"Maybe it's the fact that your sporting the dead eyes of a shark." Ardelia said, getting frustrated with Clarice's denial. "Maybe you should call someone."

'Is she suggesting what I think she's suggesting?' "I see. And, exactly who should I be calling, Dee?" Clarice hissed through clenched teeth, anger pooling in her gut.

"I don't know, but maybe Crawford can call that therapist that Katherine Martin is seeing."

Rage filled Clarice's petite form at Ardelia's suggestion.

"I don't need to see a shrink, Dee."

"Really? Cause it looks to me like you might have a little PTSD."

"Dee, I'm fine. And while I appreciate your concern, I'm a big girl and can take care of myself. I don't need to see a shrink for a rough night of sleep," Clarice spat.

She slammed her mug onto the counter and stomped away to the bathroom for a hot shower, leaving behind a hurt and concerned Ardelia in the small kitchen.

She turned around and continued cooking. Frustrated, Ardelia tried to focus on finishing up the eggs and taking the biscuits out of the oven.

Somehow though, Ardelia knew, that although Clarice didn't want to admit it, therapy was exactly what she needed.

She hadn't slept soundly for the past two weeks, as she woke often with terror gripping her petite body and leaving her gasping strangled breaths in her sweat-soaked pajamas. Each time, when she awoke in the darkness, she would curl up in the fetal position and cry, just quiet enough for Ardelia not to hear in the next room.

"Brave Clarice. You'll let me know when those lambs stop screaming, won't you?"

Clarice no longer heard the screaming of the lambs, but was instead being haunted by Katherine's cries for help, and the sound of her own gasps in the dark.

As the hot water ran over her skin, Clarice sat on the floor of the shower and allowed the steam fill the bathroom and fog up the mirror. She curled her legs up closer to her body as she thought about what the Doctor had said.

'Yes, Doctor.' she thought to herself, 'The lambs have finally stopped.'

She wiped her hair out of her face.

'But I wish you were here... so I could tell you...'