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Chapter Seven
"Dr. Lecter she's not up here!"
Hannibal vaguely heard Will's shouts as he was already heading out the door with a rag that had a small amount of chloroform sloppily poured over it. He sprinted out onto his front porch and spun around, scanning his small yard. Similar to last night, a strange odor filled the air around him. He narrowed his eyes and was dead silent.
Hannibal took off towards the back of the house once a muffled cry broke the silence. He turned the corner and locked his eyes on his target. A large man, over six feet tall, was standing in the back yard. He was staring at something as he held Talia up to cover his head and torso. Hannibal cautiously looked further around the edge of the house and caught sight of Will with his gun outstretched and pointing at the stranger.
Hannibal tucked the rag into the pocket of his pajamas and slowly walked out and made himself visible.
Will was shaking and squinting at the man, on the verge of a panic attack. Hannibal made his way closer to the stranger. "Will, put your gun down. If you pull that trigger, you will shoot Talia," Hannibal explained calmly.
Will blinked multiple times and narrowed his eyes at the stranger. "I-I can't let him hurt Abigail again," Will stuttered.
Hannibal tried to remain emotionless when he came to the realization that Will was hallucinating again. "Will, listen to me, do not fire your gun," he ordered. He wished silently that he'd put on his watch, but decided to just make up a logical time. "It is 10:15 A.M., you are in my backyard in Baltimore, Maryland, and your name is Will Graham."
Will shook his head and didn't retract his wavering aim. Hannibal heard the stranger shift beside him, but one threatening glare held the man in place, warning him that if he moved a muscle, Will would most likely shoot.
"Will, what do you see?" Hannibal probed.
His patient was in a cold sweat by now, losing his grasp on reality. He squinted again, blinking quickly. "I d-don't know," he stuttered in reply. "Garret Jacob Hobbs, a-and Abigail, the stag-man, I-I don't know."
Hannibal frowned. He'd predicted Hobbs, but this was his first time hearing about a stag. He realized now was not a good time for psychoanalyzing. "Will, that man is not Hobbs, and the girl is not Abigail. Garret Jacob Hobbs is dead. Abigail is safe in the hospital. Do not shoot that gun or you will kill Talia." Hannibal demanded.
Will just violently shook his head again and adjusted his aim on the stranger. "You're not going to hurt Abigail again!" Will yelled out, pulling the trigger.
Time seemed to slow down and Hannibal never left his train of thought. I could let Will shoot her. It will break him even more to where I can help him become what I want him to be, Hannibal debated.
However, those thought never took control of his actions, and before he could realize what he was doing, he found himself stepping in front of Talia and the stranger mere seconds before he heard the earsplitting sound of the bullet being shot from the barrel of the gun.
Hannibal felt the bullet lodge itself with his right shoulder and he turned his body with the force of it. The pain didn't set in until he'd already removed the rag from his pocket, wrapped an arm around the stranger's neck and pressed the cloth to his mouth and nose. The large man struggled for a good 30 seconds before going limp. Hannibal darted around his side and managed to wrap his uninjured arm around Talia before she was dropped.
Hannibal sighed when the man collapsed onto the ground, knocked out. He placed Talia gently on the grass, knowing that using his arm and chest muscles to hold her up would only force more blood out of his gunshot wound. He held one hand against the hole to keep pressure on it while making his way over to Will.
His patient was in a state of unconsciousness after experiencing a minor seizure. Hannibal painfully raised the non-bloody hand up to Will's face, checking his forehead for a fever. After making sure Will was at least safe, he staggered back to Talia and took her hand. He walked her back into the house and set her on the couch.
"Stay here," he ordered softly, and Talia nodded.
He went into his kitchen and took out another towel, wrapping it tightly around his upper chest and collar bone to cover his shoulder. It was far from effective, but it would have to work. Hannibal figured he had at most an hour to get the stranger tied down in his cellar and, if by chance one of his neighbors heard the gunshot, maybe ten minutes before the police arrived. He went back out to his backyard and grabbed the stranger by his feet. He began to drag the large man across the lawn and into his house. With every step he felt more blood pulse out of his shoulder.
At last, Hannibal had the man in his cellar. He sloppily gagged his mouth and tied him down to a chair. It wasn't his best work, but it would hold the man down until Hannibal could return. As he was making his way back upstairs, he found that he was becoming quite light- headed. He made it back up to the living room where Talia sat before he collapsed in utter exhaustion and defeat.
oOo
When Will awoke he remembered everything. He just wasn't sure what of it was completely true. He remembered that Talia wasn't in bed when she should've been. He remembered finding a tall man holding her in the back yard, his paw-like hands muffling her cries. He remembered that he drew his gun, and that he shot Garret Jacob Hobbs. Of course, he knew that couldn't possibly be accurate, so who did he shoot?
There was blood in the grass. Will could even smell the residue of the gunpowder in the air, so he knew he had to have shot someone. He prayed silently that it wasn't Talia. Will felt his heart rate escalate as he sprinted around the house and through the door.
The sight of Dr. Lecter, bloody on the living room floor, sent the true memories flooding back to Will. He replayed the scene in his head with all the details up until his blackout, which was about two seconds after he fired the gun.
I shot Dr. Lecter, Will realized. He ran over and knelt down beside his psychiatrist, trembling. Talia must've felt his terror too because soon she was crying as well. Will sat the doctor up against the side of the couch and lightly shook him.
"Dr. Lecter, get up!" Will yelled at the man. His raised voice caused Talia to scream.
Dr. Lecter opened his eyes and gave Will a weak smile. "I'm alright."
Will felt like he could breathe again. "No, you're not. I'm so sorry, I'll call an ambulance," he rambled.
"Will, calm down," Dr. Lecter stated, sitting up on his own. "We don't need an ambulance."
Will peered at the man in confusion. "Fine, get in the car and I'll take you to the emergence room. Come on, I'll help you up," he said, pulling at the doctors arm.
Dr. Lecter tensed up when Will tried to pull him. "Will, stop. Going by the fact that I'm still alive and I am able to move my arm and neck, I'm alright. The bullet seems to have missed the collar bone and shoulder joint. It looks like it tore through plain muscle tissue, no tendons or nerves were hit either. It missed the brachial artery as well, or else I would've bled out by now," the doctor explained.
Will groaned, only half-understanding. "Well we have to go anyway, just in case. What if something is wrong and you just don't know it?" He begged.
"That is unnecessary. We are fine on our own," Dr. Lecter concluded.
"Why are you so against getting outside help?" Will asked, still trying to nudge the doctor up.
Dr. Lecter smiled. "Perhaps it's ego-related. Besides, I know what I'm doing. You can help me, too," he replied.
"What?" Will glared at his psychiatrist. "I have no idea how to do any of this stuff."
Dr. Lecter grunted and pulled himself onto the couch. "I will talk you through it. First, go get the first aid kit from my restroom. It's below the sink."
Will nodded reluctantly before running off to the bathroom. He grabbed the large red case before sprinting back to the living room.
"Good," Dr. Lecter said, using one hand to unbutton his pajama shirt. He grimaced as he stretched it around his shoulder and pulled it off.
Will glanced at the man's bruised back and bloody shoulder before burying his face in his hands.
"Will? What's wrong?" Dr. Lecter asked.
Will could feel his face turning red and he started to shake again. He looked up warily and locked eyes with his psychiatrist. "I'm killing you!" He yelled out.
Dr. Lecter was quiet a moment before letting out a short, abrupt laugh.
"I don't see the humor here," Will muttered.
"I'm sorry, Will, but you have done nothing wrong. Everything you see, I have done to myself," the doctor explained.
Will gave him an unamused glare. "I'm the one that dropped you out of the window and I'm the one who freaking shot you!"
Dr. Lecter reached out his good arm and brushed a sweaty curl out of Will's eyes. "You're not killing me, Will. I'm the one who let go of the roof in the first place and I stepped in front of your bullet."
Will sighed, unbelieving. "If you didn't, I would've killed Talia," he admitted.
"If you didn't shoot, the stranger would not have dropped Talia and fled. You saved her," Dr. Lecter mentioned.
Will had almost forgotten about the intruder. "So he's gone?"
Dr. Lecter nodded. Will was quiet for a while, weighing out the good and the bad. Did he really save Talia by almost killing her?
"Could you please help me with my shoulder?" Dr. Lecter said at last, completely disregarding the conversation.
Will shrugged. "I don't know how. What do you want me to do?"
Hannibal reached over and opened the red kit, pulling out a long pair of medical tweezers and holding them out to Will. "The bullet is still inside," he stated simply.
Will backed away, shaking his head. "No, I can't do that. Let's just call an ambulance or something, they'll do it for you."
"We're not going to have the conversation again," Dr. Lecter mentioned, still holding out the tool.
Will reluctantly stepped forward and grabbed the utensil; cautiously peering into the doctor's wound. "I can't see it."
"You'll feel it," Dr. Lecter replied. The man clenched his fists in preparation for pain. "Go on, now. I'll be fine."
Will knelt down next to his psychiatrist's shoulder and lined up the tweezers with the angle of entry. "Are you ready? I don't want to hurt you," Will said.
"I'm alright. Go ahead."
Will shoved the utensil into Dr. Lecter's shoulder, causing the man to tense up and squeeze his hands together until his knuckles were white. Will felt awful to have to put his psychiatrist through all this. He moved the tweezers around inside until he felt them click against more metal. He took a deep breath, grabbed the object, and pulled, hoping it was the bullet and not a ligament or something.
Will thought he heard Dr. Lecter growl, but he pulled the object out anyway. He was relieved when he held up the bloodied bullet.
Dr. Lecter sighed in content. "Thank you."
Will nodded in reply. "Are we done?"
The doctor half-smiled. "Would you mind stitching it up for me?"
Will groaned. "Fine, what do I do?"
Dr. Lecter pulled out a thin rope-like bundle and cut off a generous length. He then took out a needle and handed them both to Will.
"Just thread the needle and sew," he instructed.
Will tied the string through the eye of the need and looked warily at the doctor's mutilated flesh. He took a deep breath and plunged the point through the first layers of skin.
"What time is it?" Dr. Lecter asked.
"What?" Will grimaced when he pulled the needle through the other side. "How is that important right now?"
"I'm merely curious," the doctor replied. "Do you know the time, then?"
Will accidentally jabbed his finger into the wound when he tried to grab the needle again, causing both him and Dr. Lecter to retract from each other.
"Sorry," he apologized, wiping his bloody finger off on his t-shirt. "And does it really matter what time it is? I'm trying to close up your open shoulder."
Dr. Lecter clenched his jaw. "It matters to me."
Will sighed and stood up. Sometimes Dr. Lecter can be such an immature child, Will thought. He turned the corner and checked the clock on the stove in the kitchen.
"It's almost 11:30," he stated when he returned to Dr. Lecter.
For the first time, Will thought he saw uneasiness flash through the man's eyes.
"You alright?" Will asked, continuing to sew up the shoulder.
Dr. Lecter gave a visibly fake, plastic smile.
Will shrugged it off, until he heard thumping from below the floorboards.
