Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen and welcome to Chapter 9 of His Beating Heart. I must apologise for the delayed update, this past week has been quite an experience and probably not the best. I have been suffering with two separate trapped nerves that I ended up with, within a few days of each other. So I have been forced to rest a lot and struggled to do much writing for the past week, or any of my exercise regime. It would have been my sisters birthday yesterday and is the fourth birthday I have now seen go by without her here to celebrate it.
This chapter is dedicated to the Grandmother of a friend of mine who tragically passed away two days ago, while I was still working on this chapter. It came as a saddening shock and this friend has always been so supportive of my work and always been the first to read each chapter of this and other works on this site that I have written. So in memory of an amazing woman, this is dedicated to her.
It was the dead of night when he escaped captivity. The pain of literally tearing himself free from his fellow victims was only numbed by the mild effects of the drugs that were still coursing through his body, but he was fully aware that he did not have much time. Running towards the abandoned cars that were scattered around, he had hoped upon hope that he would find a means of escape. But these vehicles were beyond typical road use. As he tried the doors, every sound had him on edge, until a light flashed through the windows. It was now a pursuit. Running for his life through corn fields and trees, he could barely feel the branches that clawed at his limbs, with only sheer adrenaline to keep him running as he tried to escape the frantic hunter. His desire for his perfect masterpiece to be complete was slipping through his fingers.
Just like that; in a breath of light and a whisper of air, he was gone. Reaching the edge, the hunter gazed down into the water in despair. A colour had been destroyed and his artwork was once again, incomplete.
~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~
Five am. Looking in on Abigail after readying himself for an early departure, Hannibal found her in a deep slumber, the ears of her kitten twitching as he raised his small head and opened his eyes to assess his new mistresses visitor. Satisfied there was no threat; the small animal bowed his head and contented himself beside Abigail, who had slept peacefully so far throughout the night, the light of the moon that crossed her face showing a much healthier complexion than that very first night. He knew that a cat was not necessarily protection, but if the companionship made her smile, then it was certainly a worthwhile choice.
Hannibal had a fair interest towards domesticated animals. They, more so than humans, were adaptable. It was a trait he admired. He understood the desire to have and bond with various creatures, particularly ones that were so intelligent. It reminded Hannibal of Cesare, the horse he had grown with since childhood, still having a fond place in Hannibal's memory palace. By chance, he had been fortunate enough to be reunited with Cesare, even after many years away from the former Lecter Castle. Perhaps that was why, when he found that little kitten, mewing and hiding under a shrub outside his office, that he took pity on the tiny animal. Or perhaps his innocence and large expressive eyes led him to think of Abigail. Taking the small bundle of fur and dusting him off, Hannibal smiled at the kitten's bright blue eyes that gazed up at him.
'I think I might just know someone for you. Apparently you have been looked on kindly today,' he remarked, taking him to his car and wrapping the little bundle in a blanket from the trunk to keep him warm.
Reflecting on the way in which he had gone against his usual patterns, Hannibal was becoming increasingly aware of the slight changes that Abigail was unintentionally influencing within him. Though he was curious to see how far these differences would take him. Hannibal was fully aware that he could not be deemed a good person. He had done many things in his life that would be deemed unforgivable. Yet, he couldn't help the increasing feelings of protectiveness he held towards Abigail and her welfare. It continued to surprised him as much as it did on that very first day...
x~x~x~x~x~x~x
Joining Jack Crawford at the just as the sun began to shed first light over the crime scene, Hannibal observed the body that was being drawn from the river. Though something was out of place. Glancing over the body as Beverly Katz shone a light upon his face, Hannibal could pick up on several distinguished scents that stood out over those around him.
'Well, there's no doubt in my mind that it's the same killer, although his pattern is changing.'
'I'm sure more will be revealed in the autopsy, though I will do my best to provide some insight…at least until nine o'clock.'
'Ah yes, Alana mentioned that she had asked you to join her at the Baltimore State Hospital to see Will,' Jack responded, glancing in Hannibal's direction with a look of curiosity he was unable to contain.
'That's correct. She is hopeful that Will may accept her help as he has thus far declined to offer much of an insight to Doctor Chilton.'
'I'm surprised he has remained with the hospital following his unfortunate incident with Doctor Abel Gideon,' Jack mused thoughtfully,
'When one survives a life threatening situation, they often become either mentally stronger or weaker from the experience,' Hannibal returned, the stench of death slowly souring the natural aroma's around him.
Being led forward as the coroner finished his preliminary observation, Hannibal was given a moment alone while the coroner spoke with Jack Crawford in great depth.
Standing over the body and observing the way that the FBI handled the dead, Hannibal was reminded with fleeting glimpses of his memory palace, his time spent in France. Studying medicine and preparing the dead for an array of procedures that he would learn. One thing he never forgot was the potent scents that emerged from the bodies that were often brought to him. However, he noticed the difference in this one. The preservation held onto so much more, he would only need a brief moment; close enough to the skin, to understand what he could vaguely place in his mind. There was something else though. Hannibal observed the way in which Beverly Katz seemed to be ill at ease with him, her body language not unlike that of Bedelia Du Maurier. Perhaps she was of more interest to him than he initially considered.
x~x~x~x~x~x~x
Driving up to the Baltimore State Hospital later that morning, Hannibal noticed as he left the car that Alana's hybrid was parked in front with a slender silhouette still visible in the drivers seat. Walking up towards it, Hannibal tapped lightly on the window, looking in with a smile as Alana recognised who had taken her attention. Getting into the passengers side, Hannibal closed the door and looked out of the windscreen before glancing to Alana.
'You have not gone inside.'
'I know…' she sighed, her tone laced with resentment, aimed towards herself.
'May I ask why?' he offered softly.
'I am try to gather my composure and reminding myself to be objective,' she responded somewhat distantly, if not half heartedly.
'I just keep being reminded of the fact that I am ignoring all of the evidence Will is faced with, in the blind hope that my beliefs about him aren't wrong...'
'You are not the first person to doubt evidence. Nor should you be the last, many are often wrongly accused, only to later have their innocence proven.'
'Do you believe Will is innocent?' Alana asked, refusing to look at Hannibal, almost fearing what she would see in his expression.
'I believe he is confused...angry and unwilling to believe that this is happening to him. Will seems to be creating his own reality outside of the Baltimore State Hospital in order to cope.'
'At least your opinion doesn't make you detested by your own colleagues.'
'You are my colleague...and I certainly do not detest you,' Hannibal responded honestly, offering her a kind smile.
'The FBI behavioural analysis unit does. All of Jack's superiors...even some of his equals. They frown upon the fact that I want justice for Will.'
'True. But they do not view the situation with the same eyes that you, I or even Jack have witnessed it with.'
'Jack blames himself,' Alana admitted, prompting Hannibal's curiosity.
'He was at Will's home... Just sat there by himself with Winston...'
'Dogs have a strong sense of loyalty to their owners. Will rescued Winston and brought him into a pack where Will was the undisputed leader. At least he has found a home...'
'At least I know where to find him,' Alana amended,
'Though I'm sure you weren't expecting to find Jack as well.'
'I think perhaps it's the only place he can really think about it. His wife is suffering with cancer, he's constantly in the spotlight at work. I guess I'd want to escape too.'
'Escape to the centre of the problems and hope to find a solution within the darkness,' Hannibal mused.
'I wish I had an answer to explain why I continue to have faith in Will,'
'It is difficult to remain objective with someone whom you have had a personal connection with,' Hannibal responded, having more experience in that area than he cared to admit.
'But I am not suggesting you handle this in a strictly objective manner. When you first came into my office, you intended to stay. I admired your tenacity. You knew people assumed we were having an affair...other students were bitter towards your progress. Yet you reacted in such a way that gained much respect. You ignored the unimportant opinions of a minority and chose instead to focus your energy on succeeding and exceeding all expectations.'
Looking into his dark eyes with some sense of gratitude, Hannibal placed his hand on hers, which had clung to the steering wheel for so long that her knuckles were going white.
'Remember Alana, only you can choose to be affected. If you believe in Will, then do not allow anyone else to change your perspective because they cannot open their minds to another possibility.'
Nodding, Alana took a deep breath and leaned her head back.
'You're right...Of course you're right. I think Will's dogs have been the only thing keeping me sane lately,' she admitted as they stepped out of the car.
'Animals have remarkable capabilities,' Hannibal agreed, 'they can help humans through the most difficult times, simply from their companionship.'
Walking up the steps that led into the entranceway, Hannibal glanced up to the left window, feeling the eyes of Frederick Chilton on them as Hannibal regarded him with a cool gaze...
x~x~x~x~x~x~x
Waking up late that morning, Abigail was greeted with a paw brushing lightly against her cheek and two bright blue eyes watching her intently. Smiling as she sat up; Abigail looked out into the grey morning and felt somehow lighter. Getting out of bed however, Abigail was slightly disappointed to discover that Hannibal had left, seemingly without leaving her a message as usual. Though upon feeding the tiny bundle that she carried downstairs, Abigail did indeed find another letter on the countertop.
Dearest Abigail,
I must apologise for my abrupt departure this morning. I promise I will join you for breakfast tomorrow. Until then, I hope the meal I have left you this morning will suffice as an apology. Tonight I have another lesson planned for you, I will be home at 6:30pm. If you have a problem, or need anything at all, I have left you a cell phone with my number for you to contact me if necessary. I will always return any missed messages from you.
Sincerely
Hannibal
Smiling brightly as she placed the note aside, Abigail picked up the box beside it and found inside, as promised, a white iPhone, fully charged and ready for use.
'He really does place his trust in me…' Abigail muttered to herself, placing it beside her as she went to make herself a cup of tea to have with the breakfast she found awaiting her in the dining room. Wondering how she could show her gratitude as she sipped quietly at her drink, Abigail found herself struck with an idea. Eating her breakfast quickly, she returned to her room and shed her dressing gown in favour of a pair of pale blue jeans and a plain black tee. Wrapping her hair up in a double comb, Abigail made her way back downstairs and soon found everything she would need for her day ahead.
x~x~x~x~x~x~x
Meanwhile, Hannibal was busy in his office, catching up on some paperwork and musing over how Alana had previously helped him with such things when she had been his student. How long ago that seemed. Smiling to himself, Hannibal also began to consider his new agreement with Will Graham. It did seem as though Will was truly ready to redeem himself and seek the help he required, but something left him at a slight unease. In his knowledge and experience, a patient such as Will did not shift their emotions and opinions as quickly as he had apparently done so. While he did not fully doubt Will's intentions, he remained aware of any possible tricks that Will might be playing. Though his curiosity in Will would not keep him from pursuing further into Will's mind.
Returning to the present moment as a knock came lightly to the door, Hannibal was surprised to glance at the clock and discover that he was not expecting a patient for another half an hour. Standing from his desk, he walked briskly to the door and opened it to find Bedelia Du Maurier stood before him.
'Bedelia,' he uttered with a polite smile that masked his mild surprise at her appearance.
Standing aside to permit her in, Hannibal could feel the air of tension in her posture as she passed him. The slight scent of anxiety lingering behind her as she passed him, as if wary to turn her back on him.
'Please, sit down,' he encouraged openly,
'I won't be staying long,' Bedelia responded, glancing to Hannibal as he walked past her to his desk.
'I'm curious; what couldn't wait until our next session,' he remarked absently, looking through the notes on his desk for his appointment with his next patient.
'We don't have a next session.'
Now she had his full attention. Looking up from his work in response to her bold statement, Hannibal regarded her carefully; trying to ascertain what was running through her mind.
'I am no longer your therapist.'
'May I ask why?'
'I have reached the limit of my efficacy. I don't believe I can help you.'
Now that was certainly a bold statement. Hannibal could not recall a time when Bedelia had ever been so…black and white.
'Are you giving me a referral?' Hannibal continued, still trying to study her features, though they remained rigid, refusing to give anything away.
'No. I am simply ending our patient, psychiatrist relationship,'
Closing the book, Hannibal placed his pen upon it before, walking around to stand before her, his eyes falling to her shoes as she instinctively stepped back.
'You tried to end it before,' he continued, seemingly almost amused at her continued effort to back away from him.
'I…am grateful for your…persistence in engaging me after my attack. However, in light of everything that has happened with Will Graham, I have begun to question your actions, particularly your past actions with regards to me and my attack.'
'Did you share these questions with Jack Crawford?' Hannibal responded, smelling his musky cologne in the air around her.
'No; and nor will I. I would look just as guilty as you. But perhaps, that is what you intended.'
Smiling, Hannibal thought it best to humour her. She had no doubt rehearsed this scene so far, but now her well constructed demeanour was failing her.
'What exactly am I guilty of?' he asked openly, walking towards her now, curious to see her reaction. He was daring her, willing her to play in his game.
'Exactly, I cannot say,' she remarked, losing her train of thought as she followed the way he approached her, the weight of her body suddenly bearing uncomfortably on the heels she so often walked in without much effort. 'I've had to draw a conclusion, based on what I glimpsed through the stitching of the person suit that you wear…' she uttered, gathering the strength in her voice as Hannibal closed the distance between them.
'…and the conclusion that I've drawn,' she stated, looking up at him with severity in her gaze, 'is that you are…dangerous.'
Studying her expression, Hannibal almost felt as though Bedelia were waiting for him to let his guard slip in some way. Yet he remained perfectly composed.
'I am sorry that you feel that way,' he returned honestly, disappointed in his perception of his psychiatrist and colleague.
'Please don't come to my home again,' she concluded, keeping an eye on him as she began to finally step away. 'I will see myself out.' Noting the way she half glanced back, as if afraid he would follow her and cut her off, Bedelia seemed almost surprised by Hannibal's casual reaction to her departure.
'I am resuming Will's therapy,' he stated,
'To what end?' she responded, almost wearily with an expression of mild exasperation. 'Besides your own.'
'He asked for my help.'
'Then maybe you deserve each other,' she responded coldly, closing the door behind her as the sound of her heels echoed away somewhat unsteadily.
Following her departure, Hannibal was quickly calculating his encounter with Bedelia and what the appropriate method would be to handle it. Though in that moment, a light sound emitted from his desk. Returning to it, Hannibal glanced at the screen and smiled, almost forgetting his concerns for a moment at the message before him.
~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~
Returning home later that evening, Hannibal was surprised by the subtle scents that greeted him as he passed through the door. Lemon polish. Abigail had been cleaning. Impressed at her efforts, Hannibal found Abigail in the kitchen with that little grey kitten at her feet, mewing loudly and watching the food that she was handling. Taking a casserole out of the oven, Abigail set the dish down with full concentration, making Hannibal smile in amusement as she then glanced up to greet him.
'Hi,' she said cheerfully, 'dinners just about ready.'
'It smells delicious and the house looks impeccable. You have been working hard today,' he remarked, seeing the weariness in her eyes, though she tried to conceal it.
Moving effortlessly to her side, Hannibal admired her hair held up, with a few loose strands hanging beside her face. Brushing them back behind her ear, Hannibal watched Abigail pause as a blush crept across her cheeks.
'Allow me,' he murmured, slipping the knife from her hand and continuing her work while remaining behind her.
'You suit your hair up, it looks elegant,' he offered, the warmth of his breath in her ear making a slight shiver run up her spine.
'Thank you,' she returned shyly. 'Although it was just while I was cleaning, but, erm, well, you mentioned you had another lesson planned for tonight?' she continued, stumbling terribly over her words and scolding herself inwardly for it.
'Yes, first though, let us eat.'
'How is Will?' Abigail asked, trying to touch on an easier subject, though she could feel Hannibal tense a little behind her.
'He is well…though he is still searching for answers within himself, I do not believe he knows which part of him is truly, himself,' he responded, still musing over his meeting with Will himself.
Deciding to say no more on the subject, Hannibal led Abigail into the dining room where they proceeded to eat, before he sent her to wait in the living room while he cleared up.
As she sat waiting for what felt like an eternity, Abigail brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear as Hannibal had done and felt the warmth of that feeling course through her body. Her mind was a whirl with thoughts of Hannibal. He knew just how to get her mind racing and the more moments she had with him, the more she found herself questioning his intentions behind them. But also, she found herself craving more of those moments. Could it all just be in her head? He had held her face on other occasions before she had come to live with him and she had never thought anymore of it. It could all just be Hannibal's protective nature with her…the thought rested uneasily on her mind as Hannibal finally joined her. Sitting himself beside Abigail, she found herself presented with a silk blindfold.
'In the forest I began to teach you to make your senses more acute to everything around you. First we began with sound; now, I want to try another of your senses,' he encouraged. 'All I ask is that you trust me and follow my instructions.'
'Okay,' she nodded, not questioning him at all. Though Hannibal quickly picked up on the slight disheartened quality to her voice and lifted her chin lightly with his fingertips.
'You look at your most beautiful when you are smiling,' he admitted softly, as if sensing her uncertainty, before lifting the blindfold and watching her turn as she allowed him to place it over her eyes.
Feeling Hannibal's weight shift as he moved from her side, Abigail waited with baited breath, becoming aware of her heart beating strongly as footsteps drew close again. Feeling Hannibal kneel before her, his soothing voice soon rang in her ears.
'I want you to tell me what you can smell from the items that I am going to present you with, to better familiarise yourself with your surroundings,' he explained.
Nodding in response, Abigail waited as Hannibal (unbeknown to her) took a knife and easily cut a piece of fruit in half, lifting one piece towards her and allowing her a moment to take in the fragrance.
'Oranges,' she answered in response to his silent question.
'Good,' he nodded, moving onwards.
Next was Lilies, followed by elderflower and jasmine. Then white wine, vanilla…and finally…
'Tell me, what do you smell now?' he questioned, Abigail pausing and pouting a little as she tried to pick up on the scent that he was presenting her with. But in that moment, she felt a movement and suddenly a light weight at either side of her legs. That's when it hit her.
'So? What is it?' he uttered in her ear.
'You…' she finally answered breathlessly, soaking in the fresh scent that always lingered around him. Hearing him chuckle, she felt somewhat disappointed as he lifted his hands and moved again, this time untying her blindfold and leaning back to observe her expression.
'Very good,' he complimented. 'I shall have to make it more of a challenge next time. Though I will also have to teach you some self defence. I think that should be something we should work on soon.'
'You think I'm going to need this experience in case someone finds me, don't you?' Abigail asked suddenly, her hands curling into her lap with some anxiousness.
'The world is full of dangerous people Abigail. I am one of them. But I want to teach you how to protect yourself from the others that are out there, in case there is ever a moment where I cannot reach you first. But I promise you Abigail, I will always come for you, no matter where you are. I will protect you.'
Nodding in understanding, Abigail leant back slightly, not allowing those concerns to take her right now. There was something else on the forefront of her mind that she had been considering for several days now. As the grip on her hands eased a little as a thought seemed to settle in her mind as she let out a sigh.
'There's a favour I'd like to ask…'
'Certainly?' Hannibal returned, somewhat surprised at the apparent change of subject.
'I want to see it,' she admitted, Hannibal's eyes widening slightly as he studied her expression.
'Are you sure?'
'Yes. I'm ready,' she nodded, Hannibal accepting her determination as he rose to his feet and offered her his hand. Taking it in his warm palm, Hannibal could feel the slight tremble that echoed her inner worries and tightened his grip a little to appease her. Going to his room where he usually treated her wound, Hannibal led her into the bathroom where she stood before the sink, gazing at her own petrified expression.
'Would you like me to-'
'Please,' she nodded, closing her eyes. Standing beside her, Hannibal carefully went to work at removing the much smaller dressing that had continued to protect her healing wound. He had not expected her to be ready for such a thing so soon. She continued to amaze him with her inner strength. Though she thought otherwise, she was definitely not her father's daughter. She was so much stronger than that.
Easing the dressing off without causing her any pain at all, Hannibal stepped back and stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. For a moment, that was all she needed. There was no words spoken between them. She knew he was there to support her as completely as she needed him too.
Opening her eyes finally, Abigail unconsciously gripped the edge of the sink and met her own paled expression as she looked to the side of her face where her right ear used to be. It was not as bad as she had imagined, and it had mostly healed over, though it felt strangely clear to hear Hannibal speak behind her without the dressing to cover that side.
'Abigail?'
'I'm okay,' she breathed, feeling her chest rise and fall somewhat heavily as she continued to hold onto the edge of the basin, her grip loosening as she suddenly became aware of Hannibal's hands moving up and down her arms slowly, soothingly.
'I am so sorry…' he whispered, looking almost crestfallen as Abigail managed to meet his eyes in the reflection of the mirror.
'I know…' she nodded slowly, watching as Hannibal lifted his hands and freed her hair, his fingers making light work of any tangles as he let it lower over her shoulders and fall around her face.
'Never be ashamed of being a survivor,' he said softly, seeing Abigail's wide blue eyes glaze over as she nodded.
'Will I need to continue to wear a dressing?' she asked finally, seeing Hannibal consider her question while refusing to take his hands away from her arms.
'No, it should be okay to heal alone now.'
Breathing deeply, Abigail slowly let go of the edge of the basin, taking a small step back into Hannibal's arms and chest as she tried to ascertain how steady she was on her feet. Holding her as long as he could see that she needed, Hannibal remained close to her as she finally turned to him.
'Thank you for being with me for that,' she said gratefully, 'perhaps I should make us some tea?'
'I actually have an errand I must run. It will only take half an hour. I just need to check on a friend of mine,' Hannibal responded. 'I will make you a cup of tea before I leave if you would like to wait up for me?'
'Okay,' she nodded, thinking it was probably best that she sit down for a while and absorb her altered features. Sitting down on the sofa, Abigail felt oddly relieved to have gotten that moment behind her. It had been haunting her every day since her arrival in Hannibal's home, though the evening was slowly taking it's toll on her. Regardless, she was grateful to have had Hannibal's support. Thinking back to her lesson earlier, she wondered how he could get so close without it seeming to affect him at all.
'Here you are,' Hannibal said, bringing Abigail from her reverie.
'Thank you,' she smiled appreciatively, taking it from his hands and feeling comforted by the aromas.
'I won't be too long,' he remarked with a smile. 'Then can we continue with our evening…'
~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~
Arriving at Bedelia's home; Hannibal left his car parked some distance away and travelled by foot to her home in the dim light. Finding the house in complete darkness, Hannibal took the spare key and silently let himself in.
As Hannibal entered her home, he found that her furnishings were covered over, protected from dust. She had found her escape. Though one thing remained. Picking up the vial of perfume that had been placed in her seat, Hannibal heard some of her last words to him in his office…Smiling to himself, Hannibal was impressed. She knew he would go to her home and this was a kinder way to say goodbye. She was making herself a ghost for her own self preservation.
~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~
Returning home, Hannibal walked into the living room to discover Abigail asleep on the sofa with her book closed beside her. Smiling warmly at her contented features, Hannibal eased out of his jacket and moved one arm under her back and the other behind her knees.
'Mm…' she murmured as he lifted her easily in his arms and carried her effortlessly upstairs as she came around a little.
'Hannibal?'
'Shh…go back to sleep,' he encouraged quietly, carrying Abigail to her room and putting her to bed. Lowering her light form onto the bed, Hannibal pulled up the covers to ensure she stayed warm.
'Leave a lights on?' Abigail managed to utter, though she was still closer to sleep than awake.
'Okay,' Hannibal smiled, brushing her hair back off her face and being surprised by her following remark.
'I'm afraid of the dark…'
'Why are you afraid?' he asked curiously, perching himself on the bed,
'I'm afraid it's going to swallow me whole and not let go…'
'If it did, I would be right beside you, even though I have no light to provide. I would protect you from the darkness. I'm more dangerous than anything you'd find in there I'm sure.'
He might have had his dark undertones in that remark, but Abigail couldn't help but smile sleepily, nonetheless.
Going to stand, Hannibal began to bid her goodnight when Abigail suddenly took his hand.
'Stay with me a while?' she asked wearily, catching Hannibal off guard. Though he knew she probably wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning, Hannibal still smiled and agreed, taking a seat by her bedside as he had done many times before and contenting himself to watch his doe sleep…
Well there you have it! As always, thank you all so much for reading, thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, those who have been there from the start and those who are joining me now. It is truly touching to have had such positive feedback for my work and it is amazing to be writing with such enthusiasm again!
To finish, I would like to quote an amazing man who inspired so many people and voiced one of my favourite Disney Characters in Aladdin.
"No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world" ~ Robin Williams
Thank you for reading and see you all in the next update!
Goodnight!
~x-xMasqueradeAngelx-x
