This started out as a light hearted short cute chapter but thought I'd make it that bit more dramatic by putting these two chapters together, enjoy!
Chapter 9
Several days passed, after their conversation the other night, Hannibal had found a new understanding in Clarice, one he had never imagined would be possible. He felt empathetic to her suffering, something he had not felt in many, many years and found himself surprised by the new light that he saw her in. Clarice, too, was surprised, but handled her new feelings of mutual understanding towards her captor in the best way she knew how, by internally freaking out and keeping as much distance as possible. Most of the time she was in her room, or the living room, reading or watching TV, when it came to dinner and other meals, a lot of the time Clarice would beat him to it and make her own food, forcing him to let her eat alone.
This did not go unnoticed by Lecter. He realised she was having difficulty, and dealing with her own inner conflict. He knew she would need time, but the more she distanced herself from him, the more he felt an unwelcome sense of longing towards her, he began to miss her sarcastic and icy wit, the house felt somewhat emptier than it had been when they first arrived.
While, Lecter went out for the day to run errands, he insured she was locked well and truly in the house, that she could not leave, although this time it filled him with a sense of disappointment that he to. When he returned his ears were immediately irritated, they unpleasantly rang as he faced the music of loud electric guitars and banging cymbals of drums clashing, a male's voice screamed almost inaudible words. He crinkled his nose in displeasure as he opened the door. His nostrils were filled with a strong smell of citrus and bleach. She had been cleaning.
The atrocity she called music blasted through the sound system, as he made his way to the kitchen, he saw her then. She was standing on top of a chair, cleaning the above cabinet that held most of the plates, that had been emptied onto the counter below. Beside the plates, there was a glass of bourbon. Her hair was tied back into a plait, she wore casual slacks and a blue t shirt, she was mouthing (somehow) along to the song that played.
He placed the bags down on the island counter and used the kitchen remote to turn off the music, catching Clarice's attention in the corner of her eye. His presence seemed to startle her, she spun round on her feet, and the mix of the alcohol she had had and the sudden unbalance, she was sent flying off the chair.
She collapsed onto the floor. Lecter raced over to her, shouting her name.
"Clarice!" he bellowed as he reached her, getting down onto his knees, supporting her head in his hand, her eyes were closed and she looked to be unconscious. With his other hand he checked her pulse under her jawline. The cool touch of his fingers on one of her sensitive spots made her open her eyes. Lecter let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
He looked into her eyes, keeping her concentration. But all she could do was squint her eyes and tilt her head, as if she was confused. "What happened to the music?" she asked, clueless.
"That horrific excuse you have for a music taste was switched off almost immediately, Agent Starling," he assured her. He brushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
She smiled and closed her ears as he let his finger trail lightly through her hair, enjoying the soothing sensation. "Mmm," she hummed, Lecter smirked at her response to his touch. "Where's Will?" she asked drowsily.
Lecter felt a tightening sensation in his chest and halted his movements. When he stopped, Clarice's moved her head into his hand, as if to urge him to continue. All he could was simply stare at her, the warrior he held in his hands as if she were a lover while she longed after the man who had taken everything from him. Lecter had repaid him the same courtesy. He knew Clarice would obviously still miss Will, still long for him, but the passed couple of days he had allowed himself to think that she know longer held him so highly in her heart.
"He hates when I drink," she moaned and brought a hand to her face, as if to be embarrassed.
Lecter moved his hand that was on the back of her head to her side and cupped her face. "Clarice, how much have you had to drink?" her eyes opened, he looked intensely into them.
She thought for a moment. "How much bourbon is in the glass?" she asked innocently.
"The glass if half-empty," he told her.
She raised her eyebrow at him. "Or is it half-full, Doctor Lecter?"
He chuckled at her. "Alright, up you get," he pulled her up by her hands. "Let's get these groceries away, then I'll make you some coffee."
She nodded and sat down at the island counter while Lecter began to pack away the groceries.
"He was going to marry me, y'know?" she said in a know-it-all-voice, she didn't give him time to answer. "He tried to keep it a secret but I found the ring in his closet weeks ago," she laughed at herself.
"And what would you have said?" he enquired, genuinely curious.
"Three months ago, I would have said yes," she looked away as in deep in thought. "Now I'm not so sure what I would say," she stared into space.
"What changed?" he asked.
She laughed slightly, taking a moment. "I guess, in the simplest terms," she shrugged. "He loved you more than he did me."
Lecter raised an eyebrow at her and paused his movements, resulting in Clarice laughing. "Not in that way dumbass!" she snorted then stopped. "Or maybe...that would explain a lot..."
Lecter brought her back down to Earth. "In what way do you mean?"
She shrugged and looked away from him. "When he heard about what happened, you coming to see me, he wanted to find you. On his own. He was determined to find you and kill you, without the FBI's help, without my help. He was fading, and I couldn't bring him back. I told him to choose, stay with me, or try to find you," sadness overcame her face, her eyes grew dark and glazed, she didn't seem to be in the room any more. "He chose you."
Lecter, for the first time in decades, didn't know what to say. He did not know any of this. He realised in that moment, if he had left Clarice alone, if he had not taken her, the effect would have been the same. Will had lost Clarice already.
–
Clarice woke up the next morning with an all too familiar headache and was immediately filled with dread and regret. She rolled over and caught sight of a glass of water accompanied by two aspirin at the side of her bed. There was no note, or any explanation, but she understood the kindness of the gesture, but she would not acknowledge. She sat up, slowly, and eyed the two small white pills. After everything over the past couple of weeks, she was very weary of what she put in her body, especially what had been given to her by him.
She decided against it and instead thought she would retrieve the aspirin and water herself. She lifted herself out of bed and put on a pair of yoga pants and the loosest fitting t shirt she could find, it wasn't a far cry from her hangover wardrobe from home. She crept downstairs, trying to be as quiet as possible but she knew he would hear her. He would always hear her, somehow. She reached the kitchen and retrieved a glass of water.
She struggled to find the aspirin, but she was disturbed by the sound of him entering the kitchen. She turned to find him unsurprisingly dressed for the day in a fine grey suit. There never seemed to be a casual side to him it appeared.
"Do you know where the medicine cabinet it?" she asked, running a hand through her hair, realising how frizzy and out of place it was.
He buttoned up his jacket as he spoke to her. "Clarice I understand you may be miserable in your current setting but I would highly doubt you saw suicide as an option," he raised an eyebrow at her.
"I wasn't... I didn't..." she stuttered.
"Relax, Clarice," he stepped towards her. "I'm curious as to why you still don't trust me?"
"I can think of more than one reason," she grumbled under her breath.
He smiled. "Third cabinet to the right of the refrigerator."
She nodded her thanks and headed to the cabinet and retrieved the aspirin. She ingested the pills, washing them down with a sip of water. Lecter didn't take his eyes off of her for one second.
"I wanted to inform you that I am expecting a guest this evening, he will be joining me for dinner," he explained.
"Hmm, hot date?" Clarice replied sarcastically.
His facial expression did not shift. "Very funny," he stared at her intensely enough to make her feel uncomfortable. To his surprise, she appeared to have grown accustomed to it, and the amused glint in her eye did not fade. "To avoid any discourtesy or risk, I would appreciate it if you stayed confined to your bedroom for the course of my guest's visit, so is to leave us alone to discuss important business as such."
"Alright, what do I get out of this?"
"This is not a negotiation, Agent Starling," his voice was firm. "You forget you are my prisoner. You will stay in your room and in return I won't kill you tonight."
"But you will if I don't?" she met his eyes, challenging him.
"I urge you not to take that risk, Clarice," he countered.
–
Night fell and at eight o'clock approached, Clarice begun her ascent up the stairs. As her hand went to the bannister, Lecter reached out and placed his hand over hers, stopping her.
"Clarice, it is nothing personal, me keeping you away from my guest, I do hope you realise that. I understand that this is discourteous of me to ask this of you, and I apologise" he assured her, locking his eyes with hers.
Her gaze softened. "Doctor Lecter, you overestimate how much I care whether or not you are courteous to me. Perhaps it is you who forgets that I am your prisoner," her tone was blunt.
"Clarice you cannot deny that we have, in a certain sense, bonded over the past week, I feel it would be beneath us to not at least acknowledge it," he explained.
"You saved my life, for that I am grateful, I will acknowledge that," she nodded, her eyes drifted away from him to their hands on the banister. "But you're also the one who made my life hardly worth saving." she stared him dead in the eye, her gaze was cold and harsh.
Before he could reply there was a knock at the door. Clarice slid her hand out from underneath his and continued her ascent up the stairs without another word.
–
Clarice spent her night reading through high end fashion magazines, admiring the clothes and the glitz and the glamour, indulging in the life she never had. She thought for a moment, wondering if Doctor Lecter could give her that life, should she ever act on their 'bond'...
She shook the thought from her mind, feeling ashamed and guilty for thinking such a thing. True, yes, Doctor Lecter could be charming and kind from time to time, but she knew better than to trust him, let alone forgive him for the hell he had put her through. She wondered if perhaps they had met in another life, at another time, before Will, if things would be different. She knew things would be different, she wasn't a fool. Would they be friends, would they run in the same social circles? Of course they wouldn't, Doctor Lecter came from a life she could only dream of.
Clarice became lost in her thoughts as the time passed, the clock on her night stand read that it was almost ten thirty and Clarice was growing hungry as she silently prayed that the guest would leave soon.
All of a sudden an almighty crash was heard. She shot upright and listened more intently. After no more noise she brushed it off as an accident. However, she immediately thought differently as she heard the smash of a plate, silverware crashing against the table and what appeared to be the sound of glass shattering. Something was going on downstairs. What if the 'guest' was in fact a victim? What if Doctor Lecter was trying to kill the guest?
Clarice switched into action mode and hurried down the stairs. She would not let an innocent man be murdered while she sat cooped up in her bedroom. She sprinted down to the dining room and could not see anyone. Her ears perked up at the sound of movement, a rustling of some sorts. She whipped her head round and saw none other than Doctor Lecter lying on the floor, on a bed of glass. The case that had held one of the many artefacts that were around the house had been shattered. She rushed over to his side, placing a hand on his face, being careful of the glass, and brought his eyes to hers.
"Doctor Lecter what happened?!" she asked, almost shouting, his hands were covered in cuts and blood and he looked positively beat.
"Clarice," he whispered, his voice was wheezy and breathless. He looked her in the eyes as he whispered, "Run."
Her eyes grew wide. She was right, there had been danger, but not danger from Doctor Lecter. Someone in the house was trying to kill him, maybe even trying to kill her for all she knew. Staring wide eyed at Doctor Lecter she let go of him and slowly stood up. With one final look at the broken man lying on the floor, she made a bolt for the front door.
–
Doctor Hannibal Lecter lay beaten and abandoned on a bed of glass. He stared at the spot Clarice had ran and cursed himself for allowing her to go. But he knew it was for the best, if she stayed she would be killed. He had not seen Alexander since he had made an attempt to find Clarice by checking the other rooms on the ground floor, somehow he missed her as she came downstairs and through to the dining room. Lecter anticipated that he was in the study by now. Forcing himself up, Lecter stumbled to the dining table, limping as he went.
He picked up the carving knife that lay next to the turkey he had served them and armed himself, ready for Alexander's second attack. As he heard Alexander approaching, he stood behind the door way. When he walked through, Lecter grabbed him, only to have Alexander push him off, making Lecter coil back. Knife in one hand, fist formed in the hour, Lecter faced off against Alexander, swiping with the knife whenever he got the chance. Alexander got a few hits in, but Lecter put up a good defensive as well as attack. With one well timed swipe, Lecter cut Alexander's cheek, causing him to leap back.
Before Alexander could make his next move, he was tackled to the ground. Lecter, in surprise, jumped back and looked down at the petite figure that now straddled his enemy.
He watched in pure admiration and Clarice ferociously attacked the man beneath her as he tried to fight back but to no avail. With one final, bone crushing bunch, Alexander's efforts stopped. She climbed off of him and made her way to the table, perhaps to find an object to knock him out with. Before she could reach the table, he stretched out and tripped her. Rushing to Clarice's side, Lecter stopped in his tracks as he watched Clarice, in one swift moment, put Alexander's head between her foot and her leg and twist.
With one snap, his body went limp.
Panting, Clarice slowly pulled herself off of the floor. She was covered the blood that had sprayed her from his facial injuries. Her hair was beyond repair, her eyes looked they themselves could kill alone. Lecter looked at her in equal parts admiration, equal parts pride and equal parts arousal.
"Brave Clarice," he murmured, her head whipped round and met his eyes. "Protector of the lambs. Am I a lamb to you now, Agent Starling."
She simply stared at him. "You saved my life, I saved yours. We're even," she panted. She looked to the dining room table then back to him. "Do you have any turkey left? I'm starving."
Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you think in the reviews :)
