I'm new to this so please forgive my novice ways. Hannibal is my new found obsession and the idea of Hannibal and Grace's situation came to me in a daydream that I typed out because, well, I like writing. For some reason unbeknownst to myself, that day I created an account on this wonderful site and posted the two chapters I had written. I had no expectation of people actually reading it, let alone following it. So I guess (babbling aside) what I'm trying to say is thank you. I hope you enjoy reading it even fractionally as much as I enjoy writing it. Your comments/ reactions/ constructive criticism is most welcome.


Dr. Lecter had kept his word and within an hour of their conversation Grace was being handed the personal belongings they had taken from her when she first entered the hospital. Dr. Chilton had been hesitant in response to Hannibal's suggestion, but soon agreed that it would be best for Grace to be in a familiar environment while benefiting from one-to-one sessions with the other psychiatrist. While speaking with Dr. Lecter, however, he did insist that he'd be kept updated with her progress, referring to Grace as 'the patient' in front of her- which justifiably irked the teenager.

Now clad in her own attire- a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt- Grace stepped outside the gates of the hospital in the morning sunlight, the noise of the bustling city assaulting her ears. Breathing in the almost fresh air, the teen realised she had become quite accustomed to the peaceful, clinical environment that she had been immersed in for the past month. She flinched slightly as a car horn blared a few feet from where she and Dr. Lecter stood on the side-walk, and she was fully aware that her sleep deprivation was affecting her ability to withstand the city sounds.

During these few seconds the teen was painfully conscious of the psychiatrist studying her reactions, despite him not being within her line of vision. As she slung her backpack over her right shoulder, her attention was immediately captured by the doctor's accented voice.
"Will you miss it?"
She turned to see him gesture towards the hospital behind them, unable to read his facial expression due to the beam of sunlight currently invading her pupils. A humourless laugh escaped the young woman's lips, her eyebrows raised questioningly at Dr. Lecter, the look in her brown orbs conveying that perhaps he should be the one just out of psychiatric care.
"Would you?" She shook her head, glancing at the building behind her. "No. It was quite an interesting experience though." With that statement, a smirk played on her lips, spiking the doctor's curiosity.

"Come." Hannibal had turned and began walking away. Glancing back, he was amused by the puzzled look apparent on her features as she scrambled to catch up with his stride.
"Where?" She eyed him suspiciously, obviously not impressed with his command and lack of explanation.
He stopped abruptly by his car, pressing the button on the key to unlock the doors. "I'm going to drive you home. I assume you didn't leave your own mode of transport in the hospital parking lot?"
"Well no, but there are buses. Plus I can't go home just yet."
Dr. Lecter cocked an eyebrow. "Miss Mason, I'm afraid it would be quite unprofessional of me to discharge a patient from a psychiatric hospital, under the assurance that her well being would be cared for, just to let her wander off alone. Where, might I ask, do you plan on going?"
"I'll be fine. I'm not actually depressed or suicidal, remember?" Grace retrieved a cell phone from her bag before addressing his inquiry. "A friend's house. My parents think I'm visiting a different friend in England so I can't arrive home without a suitcase."
Hannibal tilted his head to one side. "So your friend knows that you have been a patient inside Baltimore Psychiatric Hospital for the past month?"

Grace chuckled at what she considered a preposterous idea. "God no. She's covering for me but she thought I was following The Killers' tour -our favourite band- throughout the US. I asked her to hold on to a spare suitcase for me in case I ran out of clothes."
Dr. Lecter scrutinised his new patient. "Miss Mason, is there anyone in your life who knows where you really were?"
Upon sending a quick text to her friend, the teen glanced up at the doctor through her lashes. "Um... You?" She gave him a coy smile- the type of smile that usually got her out of uncomfortable situations.
"I see." As polite as ever, Hannibal walked around to the passenger side of his car and opened the door for Grace. "Please get in the car, Miss Mason. We can discuss appointment times on the way to your friend's."
The young woman paused, her wide eyes on his patient orbs. "You actually want me to attend therapy sessions with you, Dr. Lecter?"
He smirked. "Well, you did admit yourself into a psychiatric hospital despite believing you're sound of mind. I honestly believe you would benefit from such sessions."
Grace crossed her arms petulantly, looking less than amused by the doctor's remark. She wordlessly walked around and took a seat in his car, wondering if it were wise of her to let someone she only met a couple of hours ago drive her anywhere. The teen's worries were evaporated as soon as she witnessed Dr. Lecter's competent, fluid handling of his vehicle.

Silence filled the space between them until the car reached the main road, at which point Hannibal asked where Grace's friend lived. When she responded, he informed her that he knew the road, halting the subsequent directions she was about to impart to him before they reached her tongue. More silence. The sound of traffic outside went unheard by the young woman as she peered unseeingly out the window.
"Do you often lie to family and friends, Miss Mason?" Hannibal remained perfectly composed as he spoke, his eyes never leaving the road.
Grace was taken aback by his sporadic question, taking a few seconds before responding. "Only when necessary." Damn psychiatrists...
"And when do you deem it necessary?"
Sighing under her breath, she sincerely contemplated his question. "When I know my fabrications will ease their minds more than the truth would."
He seemed somewhat satisfied with her answer, and did not speak again until they reached their destination.
"A patient of mine cancelled their appointment for this evening. Would five o'clock suit you?"
"This evening? Sure, I guess... It's this house here."

Dr. Lecter pulled up against the curb, cutting the ignition. He turned to face the woman beside him, his face bearing a solemn expression. "Miss Mason, I placed my professional reputation in jeopardy today in order to help you out. I would appreciate your earnest attempts at both attending and making the most out of our sessions, as well your discretion regarding the agreement we reached earlier."
Grace nodded, sincerity evident in her brown eyes. "Of course."
He reached across her lap, opening the glove department where he retrieved a business card that held both his contact details and the address of his office. He handed it to her before saying, "I could pick you up if you're lacking means of transport."
"No, thanks but I'm able to make my own way around the city." She opened the passenger side door, stepping outside with her bag in hand. She ducked slightly to look back at the man who was apparently her new psychiatrist, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Goodbye, Dr. Lecter. Thank you for today."
He returned her smile, wondering if the woman was genuinely grateful or merely wanting to appear so in order to leave him with a good impression of her. She seemed like a person capable of both acts.
"You are most welcome. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mason. I'll see you at five."

With that she shut the door and watched as he drove off into the distance.
He may be difficult to deal with.
The teen was truly grateful for what he had done for her, but she had enough to be dealing with without a psychiatrist attempting to dissect her mind. After all, she recently had a conversation with a possible serial killer and just found out she was related to another. So much for 'suffering from a nervous breakdown'. Grace was perturbed by what she had discovered the previous night, and also all the more morbidly intrigued by her grandfather. Intent on learning more about him and what he did, she set her mind to spending the afternoon searching through old newspapers in the library. For now though, the teen had to play the excited concert-goer to her friend as well as inform her parents that she will be flying in from England in the morning.

The young woman was a well practiced centre piece to her web of lies.


Aside from spending the afternoon listening to his uninteresting patients, Hannibal Lecter had also been in contact with Dr. Alana Bloom. She had been kept busy in Baltimore Psychiatric Hospital asking Dr. Abel Gideon about his encounter with young Miss Grace Mason.
"All he would say was that they had a conversation. Whenever I asked what their conversation involved, he became evasive. I asked him if he thought Miss Mason was sleepwalking at the time and he said he didn't notice."
Why would the man posing as the Chesapeake Ripper cover for a woman he didn't know? Hannibal was becoming more interested in this teenager by the minute. "Did he say anything else?"
"Yeah, he called her 'delightful'. Hannibal, do you think she really was sleepwalking?"
"I'm not sure yet. I am certain, however, that she doesn't remember what happened."
He could hear Dr. Bloom's sigh through the receiver. "I'm worried. The way Gideon's eyes lit up when he spoke about her..."
"Do you think she could be in danger?"
"It's definitely a possibility."
The knocking on Dr. Lecter's office door broke his concentration. He glanced over at it as he spoke into the phone. "Speak of the devil... I will get to the bottom of it."
"Keep me updated?"
"Certainly." Hannibal hung up, straightening his appearance and brushing down his suit jacket before closing the distance between him and the door.

Lecter opened the door to see Grace Mason's expectant, diamond-shaped face looking up at him.
"Evenin', Dr. Lecter."
Her mood was perky and her smile infectious. Hannibal noted she had changed her appearance since that morning- her torso now covered by a sophisticated blue blouse while her straight blonde hair cascaded down slightly past her shoulders.
He stood aside and gestured for her to enter his office. "Glad you could make it, Miss Mason."
"I wouldn't miss it." She smiled up at him and stepped inside, impressed by the sight before her. All those books. Her eyes were glowing as they scanned Dr. Lecter's collection. Maybe coming here won't be so bad after all... Then Grace remembered why she was there, and her mood consequently dampened.

Hannibal moved over to his desk, removing his jacket on the way. He neatly folded it and placed it on the back of his chair before glancing back at the woman. "Please, Miss Mason, take a seat." He nodded to the two opposing chairs positioned in front of his desk. "I was just about to have a snack, would you like some?"
Grace moved over to the closer of the two chairs, following his instructions. She sat up straight, her back against the rest with one leg crossed over the other. She watched as the doctor removed the lid off some Tupperware, the smell of its contents enticing her. "What is it?"
Dr. Lecter looked over at his patient with a smile. "Just something I prepared this morning- charred lamb loin on whole wheat crostini with oven roasted tomato."
Gourmet much? "Thanks for the offer; it smells delicious, but I'm going to have to pass. I don't eat lamb."
Hannibal turned to face her, a slight frown marring his features. "I'm sorry to hear that. Regretfully I do not have anything else with me to offer. Are you a vegetarian?"
The teen shook her head. "No, no. Humans didn't climb to the top of the food chain to feast solely on vegetation. Personally, I just don't like eating baby anything... Not judging, of course. And I'm not hungry anyway. Please, don't stop on my account."

Dr. Lecter smirked, amusement in his eyes. He nodded at the woman before taking a bite of his prepared snack. His eyes closed as he savoured it, the flavours dancing on his taste buds. After a moment he replaced the lid on the Tupperware, placing the item back down on his desk neatly. Before Grace knew it. he was in the seat across from her, a polite smile on his lips. He leaned back with naturally good posture, his elbows lying on the arm rests while his hands joined together in his lap.
"Tell me, Miss Mason, how was your day?"
Grace stifled a laugh at his surprisingly mundane question. "Eventful, Dr. Lecter. And yours?"
"Mine was quite eventful itself." He gave her a smile; a genuine one that brought a sparkle to his dark eyes. "Are you ready to discuss the events of last night?"
The young woman tilted her head to one side, her inquisitive eyes containing a hint of accusation. "Do you not already know what happened?"
"No. Not the true story."
She seemed surprised by this. "Has no one spoken to the Chesa- uh, Dr. Gideon?"
Hannibal leaned forward slightly, his interest undoubted. "As a matter of fact, a colleague of mine has. Dr. Abel Gideon admitted to speaking with you, but did not say the topic of that discussion."
The teen blinked, looking surprised and doubtful. "Really?"
"Really."
"Huh."

The two remained silent for a moment. Dr. Lecter watched as Grace appeared to be lost in thought. After a moment of his patience, she spoke again.
"Why not?" She appeared genuinely puzzled by this.
"I was hoping you would tell me, Miss Mason." Hannibal leaned back, his right leg crossing over his left while his fingers interlocked at his knee. "Did you ever meet or know of Dr. Gideon prior to last night?"
The woman's brow furrowed. "What? No, of course not."
Dr. Lecter observed her reaction with great scrutiny. She appeared to be telling the truth.
"Is he the Chesapeake Ripper?" Finally she could ask one of her many questions.
Hannibal cocked a brow. "What makes you think that, Miss Mason?"
"He said so. Last night. He actually said it a couple of times."
The psychiatrist's countenance remained emotionless. Plagiarism. So distasteful. "He has claimed to be responsible for those crimes, yes. The FBI is currently investigating his claims."
Grace leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. "What happened with the nurse?"
"Which nurse?"
"The nurse in the hospital last week. He mentioned something he did to her but he didn't say what. He told me to ask the guards or the nurses about what he had done."
"And did you?"
"No. I'm asking you."
Hannibal gave her a tight smile. She was so eager to learn. "It is public knowledge now. He killed a nurse whilst she was examining him in Baltimore Psychiatric Hospital in a way reminiscent to the Chesapeake Ripper's methods."
Her voice raised a few octaves. "Last week?"
"Yes."
"So this happened in the same building the other patients and I were in, and yet no one told us about it?"
"I'd imagine they didn't want to cause alarm."
Grace shook her head incredulously.

Dr. Lecter waited for a moment in silence, studying the woman's face. Eventually he asked, "Are you a reporter or a journalist of any kind, Miss Mason?"
The teen looked amused by his question. "No."
"A private investigator, perhaps?"
"Nope, just innately curious."
Interesting. "So what is it you do?"
"I'm a student."
"Studying?"
"Pre-med."
Hannibal had to admit, he wouldn't have guessed that. This woman was full of surprises. "Do you enjoy it?"
"Very much so, yes."
"I take it you are on your summer break?"
"Yes."
"And tell me, Miss Mason, why would a young woman such as yourself voluntarily spend a month of her summer break inside a psychiatric hospital?"
Grace shifted in her seat, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs. "Boredom."
"Just boredom?"
"Well, that and curiosity."
This statement brought a glint of intrigue to Dr. Lecter's eyes. "What were you curious about?"
The teen smirked, amusement evident in her eyes. "The food."
The doctor restrained himself, patiently keeping his composure. "And how was it?"
"Bland."
"And the real reason, Miss Mason?"
Sighing, Grace looked away from the man in front of her.

The young woman wasn't entirely sure she wanted to impart such information to Dr. Lecter. Despite the situation they found themselves in at that moment, the fact remained the same- she had just met him that morning. Granted, he had put himself out for her and she did tell him that in return she would give him the truth, but the truth wasn't something she could give easily to anyone. Considering the decision rationally, however, there was the chance that the man could be able to help her find answers to some of the questions she had; plus she knew that if he were truly intent on finding out what she was hiding, all it would take was a little digging to realise who her grandfather was. Grace concluded that she might as well tell the doctor now, keep herself in his good books and hope the discretion she intended on exercising would be reciprocated.

The teen unconsciously pulled her legs up, sitting cross-legged on the seat as her gaze eventually returned to Hannibal.
"I'm officially your patient now, yes?"
"Yes..."
"So the whole 'doctor-patient confidentiality' thing applies?"
The psychiatrist gave her a smile. "Of course. And even if it didn't, I would keep your secret, Miss Mason."
Grace nodded, tonguing the inside of her teeth. "My grandfather- on my mother's side. That's why I was there. He was a patient in the late sixties and ended up dying in their care in nineteen-seventy. I asked my mom about him on several occasions but all I could get from her was that he had a nervous breakdown and was being treated there for it. She was eight when he died. She describes him as a 'gentle gentleman' and a 'great father'... When I went looking for his medical records, to see if he had died in their care due to malpractice, they wouldn't give them to me without her consent. I broached the subject to her and she freaked out and got emotional, as usual. Getting his records myself was the only way I could find out. So yes, I faked being suicidal. And yes, I stole a couple of key codes and a key card and I pick-locked a door and trespassed and read a file that I legally shouldn't have. But I needed to know. I mean, this man is my grandfather; I should be allowed to know."

Hannibal smiled coyly. At last, the truth. "So you read the file. What did you find out, Miss Mason?" He leaned forward, hanging on her every word.
The young woman looked down, forehead creased up as she thought about what words to use. "My grandfather- he didn't have a nervous breakdown... Apparently he was a killer. A serial killer. He slaughtered and dismembered both men and women..."
Dr. Lecter's eyes lit up at her revelation. His countenance remained serene and objective as he spoke, his voice formal and professional. "What was your grandfather's name, Miss Mason?"
Grace sat back in her seat, rolling her shoulders backwards in an attempt to relax them. Her gaze shifted from the man in front of her to the wall behind him and back again. "Henry. Henry James Johnston..." She paused for a moment, deliberating before continuing. "I went to the library this afternoon to research him, through newspaper articles from back in the day. The tabloids gave him a nickname. The Hampstead Hacker." She laughed humourlessly. "Obviously before computer hackers took over the word."
Hannibal spoke thoughtfully. "The Hampstead Hacker..."
"Yes. Have you heard of him?" Her mind was torn; she was half dreading and half hoping that Dr. Lecter knew something about him.
"The name sounds familiar."
"Yeah, well, that's why I was there and that's what I found out." The teen joined her hands together, interlocking her fingers before stretching out her arms with her palms facing away from her.

The psychiatrist uncrossed his legs, leaning forward towards the intriguing woman before him as he rested his elbows on his knees. "Discovering this, about your grandfather- how did it make you feel, Miss Mason?"
Grace blinked, caught off guard. She hadn't really considered it. How did she feel knowing that her grandfather butchered people? The corners of her mouth turned down until she bore a slight pout as she contemplated Dr. Lecter's question.

Just at that moment, the telephone on Hannibal's desk began to ring. Obviously irked by the intrusion, the man stood abruptly, excusing himself as he paced over to the source of his irritation. Within seconds of answering the phone, his frustration began to dispel and he spoke with his usual polite, professional tone.
"Yes... Yes, I understand... Yes, she is here with me... I will... Certainly, Agent Crawford. I'll inform her now... We will be there soon."

Dr. Lecter placed his phone back on his desk, glancing over at Grace's expectant eyes. She was sitting up straight, ready to stand when he began explaining.
"That was Special Agent Jack Crawford. He was requesting a meeting with you. He's in Baltimore Psychiatric Hospital now." Hannibal turned to retrieve his jacket.
"But I already spoke with Dr. Chilton and you. I thought I wasn't in trouble with the FBI?" The teen was on her feet now, arms crossed over her chest.
"I assure, Miss Mason, you are not. However, Dr. Abel Gideon has confessed to other murders, ones he committed before he was locked up. It seems that he is willing to exchange the locations of their bodies for an opportunity to speak with you again."
Grace's eyes grew wide. "Me? Why me?"
Hannibal slipped into his jacket. "It appears he has taken an interest in you, Miss Mason. You will not have to see him again if you so wish, but Special Agent Crawford would like to speak with you about it."
"Now?"
Dr. Lecter gave the young woman a small, encouraging smile. "Yes, unfortunately. I'll accompany you, if you'll allow me to."
The teen merely nodded once before walking towards the door. "Right. Let's go then."

Hannibal was almost certain he observed a spring in her step.