Hannibal

What the gypsy couldn't have possibly known was how closely the American and her baby were being watched. Hannibal heard the screams first, and then saw the man charge down the stairs with the baby. The gypsy looked around anxiously before choosing which direction he would go. Hannibal knew in an instant what had happened, and followed the man. He was momentarily distracted by the appearance of Clarice in the alleyway, wailing. For the first time, he discovered the baby's given name- Leonardo. He couldn't help but to smile, ever so slightly- it was perfect. She really was a wonder, that woman. He longed to go to her, to comfort her, but he knew that he had something much more important to do now. That would all come later.

He knew Clarice had hurried back up the steps when her scent was gone. The gypsy also seemed to know this, and released his grip around the infant's mouth. Leonardo immediately started wailing, wails that matched his mother's. The gypsy shot apologetic glances to the tourists around him, and none of them suspected wrong-doing.

Hannibal thought quickly. He knew that he needed to proceed carefully. As much as he longed to attack this man, consume him for this horrible thing that he had done, he knew that he must leave no trace leading to him. He would have to depart this man without his meal. He gripped the familiar harpy in his hand. The gypsy stopped in an abandoned alleyway, one more remote than Clarice's. The gypsy assumed that the woman would have called the police by now, and he had to change the child's clothes immediately. The child wouldn't stop screaming, wouldn't stop squirming, and he wasn't able to do a thing. And then, all of a sudden, it ceased. The child was still and silent.

The corners of Hannibal's mouth upturned at this. The baby- Leonardo, he corrected himself- had given him away. He knew that he was recognized, knew that somehow, the infant knew he would protect him, and he stopped his struggle. But the gypsy was unaware of the warning. Hannibal crept up behind him. "Excuse me, sir," he said, and when the man turned, surprised, Hannibal was ready. He swiftly and efficiently sliced his throat, making sure to severe both the carotid and the jugular, and caught the baby as the man began to flail and fall backwards. A few drops of blood landed on Leonardo's face, but he didn't cry. Hannibal left the man there, bleeding, and quickly rushed to a fountain to clean the knife of his deed. Satisfied, he replaced it in his pocket.

As luck would have it, it wasn't long before some scavenger came across the body and picked it clean, too desperate to care that the man's throat was slashed in such a beastly manner. The police determined it was a mugging gone wrong, and no mention of the name Hannibal Lecter would ever be associated with the death of the gypsy.

Hannibal had never even considered the option of having children, but here, faced with his own, he was unable to control himself for the second time. He never thought he could feel such love, such a desire to protect, the tiniest of all human beings. Knowing that this child was his and Clarice's made it that much more intense. He knew that Clarice would now be struck with a dilemma. She knew she had no chance of finding Leonardo on her own, but going to the police would surely be fatal. Whether or not they found him, the information, her name, and his, would be out there, and the FBI would pick up on it in no time. He knew that she would resist calling the authorities, but eventually, would concede to their help. This little life meant everything to her, and she wouldn't risk it for anything, even if that meant being questioned by the FBI or slandering the name of one Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

He didn't have much time before she came to this decision, so he had to do this carefully. The difference a single misplaced second would make was weighted heavily. The clock within his mind began ticking away. And sitting on the steps of an old, abandoned orphanage, Hannibal took the time to get to know his son.