It had been an hour since her grim realization. Clarice stood at her counter for almost the entire time, pieces of glass long cleaned up, leaving her to her whiskey. She watched the birds fly beyond the window, wishing to be one of them. A bird in flight, with dependence on exhaustion, food supply, and merciless gravity… to be so free is a gift granted to so few.

Clarice felt disgusted with herself. No matter how hard she wished, she couldn't forget the time Doctor Lecter had spent with her. He offered her comfort and focused all of his energy making sure she didn't feel alone. Clarice owed him for all he had done for her. All of those feelings of exposure, care, and trust still stood in her soul. He hadn't lied to her about anything he had said; Doctor Lecter answered all of her questions with the truth. Clarice knew he had still lied, by omission of course, but he had answered her straight every time. She just didn't ask the right questions.

She tossed back her fourth Jack and Coke, the warmth already spreading through her body. Clarice was on a mission to forget all over again. In her buzzed haze, she genuinely thought about running head first into a wall and try to re-stimulate the trauma he had caused. She could forget, maybe live in ignorant bliss with him.

That dirty feeling crept back up her spine.

Doctor Lecter didn't make her do anything. Clarice wished she could blame all of this on him, but she was in deep. She was torn between everything she knew about him and all she had learned in this small window of time.

Doctor Lecter never forced her hand. It was all her own doing.

Clarice was ready to cry, but she held it back. If she could push through it, this whole shit storm would make her stronger. She'd be a better person, a better agent, having gone through this mistake.

The part of her, the one who embodied all that had happened with her memory loss, kept pulling at her brain stem. That small part of herself was crying at her. Was she really thinking she could go back to work? It would never be normal, ever again. Could she really walk up to her office and see herself in the window's reflection; play make pretend that she hadn't let herself fall for Doctor Lecter?

Could she live with being known as the Devil's Wife?

"My dear, the door was open. I hope you don't mind." Doctor Lecter called from the foyer.

If the grip on her glass was any tighter, it would've shattered in her palm. Clarice felt herself become engulfed in a sudden wave of rage. She locked that annoying, small part of her away in a dark dungeon and left her to starve. When she heard his footsteps behind her, and his hand fall to her shoulder, she snapped.

Clarice turned around and punched Doctor Lecter square in the jaw.

He stumbled back, not too far, his right hand grasping onto the counter. His left hand cradled his face, blood slowly seeping between his fingers from his very broken nose.

"I see you've remembered." His voice was nasal and that pissed her off more. Clarice took another swing to hit him on the other side, but he was smart enough to evade her. Doctor Lecter's bloody hand left his face to aid him in pinning Clarice. He gripped both of her arms, as gentle as he could without losing the fight, not wanting to hurt her. He pushed her up against the wall, using his weight to keep her pinned. Her head made impact, and while she didn't lose her memory, her nose started to bleed.

"I understand you're angry and I'm more than happy to let you hurt me in return. But we should talk before you render me unable." Doctor Lecter growled, fighting to keep that animalistic instinct at bay. He couldn't snap at her, he couldn't scare her, and he couldn't be mad at her. Clarice's rage would pass, even if it meant holding her for hours.

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill you." Clarice was off the handle and she could feel herself losing control of herself. It was the closest to blacking out she had been since Jame Gumb's dark basement.

But there was no time to focus on staying here. Clarice stomped on Doctor Lecter's foot with her heel, making sure he stumbled back. She used his moment of weakness and drove a knee into his ribs. He released his grip on her and fell back onto the counter, both hands gripping onto the granite, using the leverage to throw himself at her. Clarice evaded, running through the main hallway, aiming for her bedroom. If she could just get her gun… she'd shoot five clips into his corpse.

Just before her feet hit the stairs, she feels two strong arms encase her. Clarice screamed and struggled, trying to twist out of the Doctor's grip. Trying to get proper footing, Clarice felt her ankle pop out and then back in. She could hardly feel the pain shooting up her leg, still hell bent on killing Doctor Lecter.

"I'm not going to fight you, Clarice." Doctor Lecter's voice was even and calm; fueling the fire within her to its final crescendo. Before he had a chance to lift her, Clarice forced herself to walk backwards, toppling them both to the ground. While he was caught off guard, she mounted him, driving her fists into his face with full force. Doctor Lecter let Clarice hurt him, arms lying dormant by his side. His vision was blurred, but he could tell Clarice was becoming more upset with each crippling punch.

By the fifth hit, Clarice was sobbing. She collapsed next to him, hands rubbing at her face, simply smearing around the blood still dripping from her nose.

"How could you?" Clarice whispered, rolling so her back was towards him, curling up on her carpeted living room floor. Her body was shaking and her sobs were anything but quiet.

"I saw an opportunity." Doctor Lecter said, a slur clearly lacing his voice.

Doctor Lecter wasn't sure of how long her sobs lasted; he wasn't able to read the clock when he raised his head to look. But he felt more pain from each of her cries than any of his cuts and bruises. Of all the things he wanted, he never wanted to be the source of her pain.

Her sobs died down and finally led to silence. Clarice had rolled onto her back once more, still not ready to look at the damage she had caused.

"Of… all the things you've done. All the people you harmed, all the people you ate. All of the horrible comments and torture you put people through… I can honestly say that this was the most disgusting. You're a horrible fucking person." Clarice's voice was monotone, much like his own. He chalked it up to shock and adrenaline.

"I know."

"Then why did you do it?"

"The feelings I have for you have a tendency to take control."

"That's no excuse." Her reply was immediate and cut through him like a knife.

"I know."

Then, Doctor Lecter was surprised. Clarice's hand, just her pinky finger, hooked onto his own pinky finger. No words were exchanged; nothing needed to be said. They just kept lying there, the energy from the fight dying along with the daylight. The orange glow of dusk set, seeping through her windows, leaving her to look at the odd shapes upon her ceiling.

"Are you okay?" Doctor Lecter asked.

"Yeah. How about you?"

"Possibly concussed. Interested to see just how deep the indents from your fists are. Mostly worried about you, Clarice."

"Why? No need to be worried about me." Clarice laughed weakly and so did he.

"Because I've harmed you. I took advantage of you. I don't want you to think of me like this for the rest of your life."

"You did harm me and took advantage of me," Clarice sighed, looking at a diamond shaped shadow on the ceiling ", but you did a lot of other things too when you were hurting me. I had a real friend and good promises of a little more than that. I got to know you, away from everything that I already knew… it was amazing to know you beyond the glass."

"I'm pleased you feel that way. I feel the same."

"So. What now?" Clarice asked.

"That's entirely up to you, my dear."

Clarice didn't say anything more. She turned, both admiring and cringing at the damage she had inflicted. His face was already bruising and his bottom lip was split. He was sure to have one swollen black eye and another black eye that wasn't so bad. One this was for sure; Doctor Lecter's blood was staining her carpet, dripping down the sides of his face in a constant stream.

She stood and offered her hand, balancing on her good foot while she pulled him up. They used each other for support, walking through her home as if nothing had happened. Nabbing her first aid kit from the bathroom along the way, Clarice sat Doctor Lecter down and fixed up his wounds to the best of her ability and he did the same. For a while, they sat out on the deck; Clarice had convinced him to drink some Jack and Coke with her.

"Clarice?" Doctor Lecter asked. He was feeling brave, four drinks settling in his stomach combined with the blood loss made his grip on control come loose.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Clarice, I-"

"Don't say it."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because once you say it, so will I… and then we're both in too deep to turn back." Clarice whispered, gulping her drink and pouring another.

"Clarice?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Those words never came lightly to either of them, but saying it to each other felt right. Sitting there on her porch, flakes of dried, copper blood flaking off both their faces… it felt normal, of all things.

And there you have it! I've had this ending written for months. I hope you enjoyed this little story and hopefully you'll take a chance on the Clannibal stories I write in the future!