Hi everyone! This is my first attempt of fanfiction. My plan is to update the chapters every one/two weeks for those who could be interested in the story but as the plot thickens the update time will increase.
There's some warnings to be made: this is not a hannigram fic, Will appears only in the first chapter. This is not a fluff story either, maybe a little romantic but in a very lecteresque way. It pretends to be very dark and introspective for each of our protagonists.
This story will mix the books, the tv show and the movies, I will explain the details at the beginning of every chapter.
My main goal is to show how the passage from Hannibal season three of tv show to season four should be made if production and scripting decisions wouldn't had banned Clarice from the show, like it sadly happened. I hope to expose Hannibal and Clarice's point of view in some critical points of their relationship and its development along all the encounters they have and departing from the Hannibal movie finale and from cannon.
I wish you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. All reviews and ideas about the plot or the characters will be very appreciated! And forgive any mispelling, English isn't my mother tongue.
Note: the numbers between brackets in the text are related to a song that I was listening when I was writing that part, in the end of the chapter they will be listed for you if you want to listen them.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot.
Chapter 1 - Lovecrime
(1)
Oh, the dye
A blood red setting sun
Rushing through my veins
Burning up my skin.
I will survive, live and thrive
Win this deadly game.
The cristal clear beam of diaphanous light cut the penumbra like a knife in the cool atmosphere under the duomo, inside of the breath-taking Santa Maria del Fiore. In exactly five minutes the ray of sunlight that unabasedhly filtered from the gnomon on the ceiling of the duomo would overlap perfectly with Toscanelli's disk on the marble floor of the Chapel of the Cross, to the left of the High Altar, announcing the beginning of Summer Solstice.
Hannibal Lecter was standing beside Toscanelli's disk intensenly enjoying the presence of the light by his side, watching the motes of dust dancing in the bright air but aware off remaining in the shadowy side, of course. His reddish brown eyes looked casually at the tip of his italian shoes just to switch his interest to the antique marble floor. The voices of the cathedral choir echoed the first stanzas of Mozart's Requiem Domine Jesu Christe in the very heart of the duomo, a mischievous smile full of contentment spread across his features.
Libera eas de ore leonis,
ne absorbeat eas tartarus,
ne cadant in obscurum.
Deliver them from the lion's mouth,
lest hell swallow them up,
lest they fall into darkness.
The lion's mouth, how appropriate. If there was an indisputable fact that he could confirm through the years was that God, if such entity could exist, had a twisted sense of humor and no mercy with those that had fallen in his hands, faithful or not. Nevertheless, the music and the atmosphere were lovely.
"Sorry, faithful people, but somebody will eventually fall on the lion's mouth", he thought and a grin spread across his face "Maybe Alana". A deep sight escaped from his chest while the beam of light was fading, drawing away its brightness from him, he was losing the momentum. On the other side, in the gloomed bottom of the High Altar, some figures were taking form. He knew who they were very well…
One was Alana, to whom he had a promise to fulfill. On her side was Jack Crawford, the smart but passional chief, the "end justifies the means" good old Jack, the master of bending the rules without breaking them and in bending people to the breaking point. Did he realize that his morals were not superior to his own? The last figure he saw was Will Graham.
"I let you in. I let you know me. I let you see me".
"You wanted to be seen".
"By you. A rare gift I've given you. But you didn't want it".
"Didn't I?".
"You would deny me my life".
"Not your life".
"My freedom, then. You'd take that from me. Confine me to a basement cell. Do you believe you could change me the way I've changed you?".
"I already have".
Those bitter words were spinning like smoke spirals in the deepest darkness of his thoughts. The perception of betrayal did not leave him despite of having forgiven Will. What a terrible disappointment he had turned out to be.
Will had made the inexcusable mistake of believing that Hannibal's death would bring him peace of mind, when all he had to do to get it was embracing his own nature, knowing his own darkness, his limits, twists and turns, his true self. Such miscalculation had lead to a chain of unstoppable and tragic events.
Francis Dollarhide, with all his potential, was a weapon of choice to push Graham to the abyss, an unavoidable path to set him free from his own chains, from the cage that he had artfully build for himself. Only one of them would rise victorious from that contest, Hannibal knew he had as many chances to live as ha had to die in the process and was ready for whichever. But his goal was to help Will to emerge from his shell.
"Save yourself, kill them all".
Of course he could have escaped when Will and Francis set him free from his reclusion but that was an option that he had not even contemplated, he had to know, he had to nurse the monster. His black heart rejoiced in Will's victory. Would he have the bravado to finally peer in the dark mirror and accept its reflection? A reflection which had Hannibal's face.
After murdering Dollarhide together, Hannibal regained his trust in Will. Which was the answer to that confidence? A fall. A meager attempt to put an end to life of both. At that moment, while he struggled with Will's merciless arms in free fall towards the rolling Atlantic, Hannibal finally fully understood that Will would never embrace his true self. What lay on the other side of the looking glass was too horrendous to see for this Alice. Thus, he had broken the mirror.
Will Graham would be never capable of come to terms with his dark side although the result was to become an undone human being. He couldn't deal with his acts and its consequences nor assume them as an intrinsic part of him. No, he would never have peace and have made the decision to never be complete. Hannibal on his part had also made a resolution: no one would ever steal his freedom again. He would never misplace his trust again. The teacup was shattered again.
Hannibal had loved him as Narcissus loved his image in the serene waters of the pond. But if there was a chance to find a kindred spirit in Will this possibility had died four years ago by Will's own hand.
The lights went abruptly on in the cell and in all the dungeon, that was the common name for the groups of cells reserved for violent criminals, inside the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. All evidence of Santa Maria de Fiore's gorgeous interior was gone now and with that its ghosts.
Another day had started. Doctor Lecter, who barely slept at night, used the on-and-off's of the electric light and the orderlies' shifts to keep track of the passing of time. If he could only have a window…
Inside his memory palace the vast rooms appeared one after another, the great foyer with holes on the floor, passages to more sordid places were avoided with gracious movements. A long corridor with old paintings followed, to finally arrive to the marble stairs guarded by the astonishing ancient sculptures of Marcus Aurelius and Dante, they led to first floor. In the music room his mother was playing the piano… Mmm, better not to dig into that now. Another room contained a shining April morning with a clear sky of azure and striking green hills, that was the view from the window in his room open to the fresh season breeze.
His thin, long fingers, child-like fingers, were caressing his dark wooden secretaire, the books on his small bookcase, the cool surface of the beveled glass window. Some footsteps were approaching from the corridor, hurried, tiny steps…His sister's steps.
But the sound of heels brought him back from his Palace. This sound, so promising and real, had delivered him here with prodigious speed. The scent in the air was divine as well… Inwardly, he got curious about in which other ways could he be pleased with the unexpected visitor.
(1) Lovecrime - Siouxsie Sioux and Brian Reitzell version.