A/N: I only own the idea.
She had been sleeping when it happened. The dream filled with his presence had been unapologetically interrupted by the sharp and sudden pain of a knife sliding in to flesh. When she had opened her eyes they were still blurred with the remnants of sleep. The attack came swift and with little pause. Every time she thought the knife would leave her skin it was once again forced deeper with an intensity that caused her voice to stick in her throat.
Shame filled her as she was rendered powerless by her own body. Unable to move under the attack she felt removed as her blood pooled around her. Anger as her vision started to go black. Years of training and she lay helpless feeling her life drain out of her flesh. Somewhere the sounds of the attacker leaving registered.
"Would you ever say to me stop? If you loved me." His voice as it so often was in her mind. As her world swam around her Clarice wished more than anything to be with him. When the last thread of alertness left her it snapped with the sound of her name whispered in her mind from Hannibal's lips.
When one wakes from trauma it's with a sudden bone chilling clarity. No sleepy haze greets you, only the raw alertness of the situation at hand. The first thing Clarice registered was someone touching her. There was the scent of her blood, to much lost by the feeling of fog that clung to her senses. Then the smell of him. Unmistakable. Her eyes snapped to his face.
If she could just move a little. Pain caught her breath and coughing shook her frame. It made it worse. The taste of blood on her lips made her want to retch. "Han…" More coughing stole his name from her. What was he doing here? Was he safe? Why did it smell like wine?
The feeling of his hand pressing harshly against the wound sent a new type of pain through her. What was he fumbling for with his other hand? What was he doing with his phone? Panic gripped her as an absurd thought bubbled to the surface of her mind. He wouldn't be so foolish. Was that a tear on his cheek? "What…" The rest of her words fell short as she heard him talk. If she could show him she was okay he could still have time to leave. She attempted to force herself to sit up, but more pain left her stuck. Frustrated now tears joined the blood leaving her body.
Anger made her voice shake. "Why would you call them! You need to go, I can't do this again." How could he just give up what she had worked so hard to give him? What if this time he wasn't so lucky? Would she be able to keep up appearances long enough to help him escape somehow?
As the phone fell to the ground it felt like a bomb dropping. The feel of his other hand joining the first sent waves of pain through her as he added more pressure to the wound. It took so much energy to focus on the words he was saying to her. When he asked her who had done this to her she found her mind asking if it mattered. The only thing she could focus on was the fact that his freedom was getting closer and closer to being taken from him. If she could convince him to leave, maybe she could stay awake until help arrived.
Of course he wouldn't listen to her. His medical knowledge wouldn't have him so easily fooled. Her heart picked up speed when he told her how he had wanted to see her all this time. If asking nicely wouldn't work, perhaps anger and blunt honesty would do the trick. Laying all her cards on the table she had been about to tell him everything she had held back, but once again annoying coughing stole her words. The sirens in the distance felt like a hand around her throat.
How would he have liked to see her? Would she see him again without glass between them? What if he wasn't given the option of a cell and was put right in the ground. Anxiety raced through her mind. Surprise that he hadn't seen her for all she was. In her mind she had felt exposed but it seemed he didn't see through her as she had once thought. His words of reassurance held a conviction she didn't feel but she attempted to take strength from them.
"I'll try," the words were out of her mouth before her mind could catch up. If this was going to happen she needed more from him then his voice. She hadn't expected him to listen when she told him to come closer. She shouldn't have been surprised, considering he was literally walking away from the world to protect her. When her hand touched his face she wished it hadn't have been intercepted with the film of her blood. Too many years had passed between them for even that to come between their skin. When she started to tremble and her hand fell from his face she did her best to prepare herself for the approaching storm.
Tension filled her body as the approach of footfalls grew louder. Desperately she met his eyes. What if they shot him on the spot? How could she keep him safe when her own body was holding her captive/ Time wasn't on her side and words didn't come quick enough before the presence of others filled the room around her.
