Disclaimer: All the characters in here belong to Thomas Harris.

A/N:

Thanks for the reviews guys. You're great :)

Chapter Ten

Clarice's hand hovered over the phone.

She too had some firm rules about right and wrong.

But she wasn't stupid either.

Clarice picked up the mouthpiece.

The word damage-control was running through her head. She knew exactly what she should say if anyone thought her calling Hannibal was weird in the slightest. With a deep breath, she dialed the number to the Asylum and hoped that she wouldn't have to be put through Dr. Chilton.

She closed her eyes in relief as a young receptionist answered and put her through to the basement levels. Another receptionist spoke to her and asked some questions, but eventually; Barney picked up the phone.

"Hello Agent Starling."

"Hi Barney." Hearing his voice made her feel better instantaneously. "Are you authorized to let me speak with Dr. Lecter?"

"Yeah, sure I am." His voice was low. "I don't mean to pry… but you're calling because of Dr. Chilton, right?"

"Yes. Yes I am."

"And… is it true?"

"What part?"

"About the baby?"

Clarice knew what he was going to ask, but it still sent a surge of adrenaline through her. She bit her lip and smiled into the mouthpiece "Yes, I'm having a baby."

"I'm happy for you." Clarice could hear the melancholy in his voice.

"But what?"

"But Dr. Lecter didn't take the news too well."

"I figured…" Clarice glanced at the green teddy bear on her nightstand that she'd bought the day that she'd told her doctor that she was keeping her child. "What did Dr. Chilton say exactly?"

"He made a big show out of it. You know him. He was his usual self, trying to get a rise out of Dr. Lecter."

Barney was definitely holding something back, and Clarice was smart enough to know that it was the way Dr. Chilton had tried to get a rise out of Hannibal. She couldn't really imagine what he might have said, but she gathered that it probably wasn't very nice.

"Can I talk to him?"

"Sure, hang on, I'll ask him."

She heard the click as she was put on hold. Thoughts were swimming through her head, running in circles and jumping in the wrong directions like a rabbit with a waistcoat. What was she going to tell him? He was going to be so angry and talking with him was going to be even harder when she couldn't even see his face. What if the line was monitored? A microphone in Hannibal's mouthpiece would do the trick… he'd realize that, right? Maybe it would have been best if she'd just gone there instead…. But then she remembered that even his room was probably bugged. This conversation was not going to be easy.

It took a while before Barney came back and she knew in the instant that she heard the tone of his voice that things weren't turning out the way she had hoped.

"Agent Starling?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"I'm sorry." He hesitated. "Dr. Lecter can't come to the phone at the moment."

"Oh…"

"He's not responding when I talk to him… it happens a lot. It looks like he's sleeping but I know he's not. I don't know when he'll snap out of it."

Clarice hung her head as her stomach clenched in disappointment. She couldn't know of course that Hannibal Lecter often got lost in his own thoughts and it felt personal as tears of rejection sprung to her eyes. Fuck Hannibal Lecter. Fuck it all. She swallowed her growing anger and clutched the mouthpiece firmly.

"Tell him I called then." She spoke, nearly trembling. "If he wants to talk, let me know. I'll call…"

The last part was spoken as an afterthought.

"I'll let him know."

"Thanks Barney."

As the big orderly hung up, Clarice sat down on the bed, clutching the green teddy bear to her swollen tummy. Maybe he was actually asleep, and Barney would call her tomorrow and schedule a phone call for her, but another part of her was sending chills down her spine. He was a sociopath… he'd probably resent her for this or find it highly amusing… Maybe he simply didn't want to deal with her and the baby. Amidst her thoughts, she suddenly felt something weird and looked down at her stomach.

Did the baby just move?


Barney felt completely lost.

It had been two weeks since Agent Starling had called him about speaking with Dr. Lecter, but so far, he hadn't been able to call her back.

Dr. Lecter hadn't snapped out of it.

The big orderly was currently walking down the hall, ignoring the other inmates as he aimed for the glass secured cell. Behind him, Dean and Jim were bringing the cart and the tranquilizer; it was time for Dr. Lecter's bath. Barney was afraid it would turn out like last time, where Dr. Lecter had just stood under the water, not even attempting to wash himself off. He'd been forced to handcuff him and suspend his arms towards the ceiling with a chain. The hose had been brought forward and they had scrubbed him the best they could. Barney could have sworn that Dr. Lecter became himself for a moment as he looked up in confusion only to stare at the floor till it was over.

It was the procedure they'd used with prisoners like Miggs, but Dr. Lecter had always been well behaved enough to be left alone in the showers. Bath time was quite frankly a lesser entertaining part of the job if you asked Barney, as he remembered how most prisoners came out of the showers with an erection. Some were embarrassed by it… other's weren't.

Dr. Lecter had never been one of those prisoners.

It pained Barney that he'd been forced to chain Dr. Lecter in the showers. It wasn't right, much less when Dr. Lecter had seemed surprised when they turned on the hose. He hadn't even realized where he was.

They halted in front of the cell and Barney sighed as he saw Dr. Lecter lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His cell looked the same as always, but there were no books laying open, indicating that he had been reading and the bundles of letters on his desk told Barney that he hadn't been dealing with his mail either. The walls held the exact same drawings as last week and the half-finished cathedral that he'd been working on two weeks ago hadn't been touched.

"Dr. Lecter." Barney started, waiting a moment to see if he would get a response. When none came, he continued. "It's time for your bath. You know the drill."

The doctor didn't react till Barney sent through the straightjacket and the mask. At the sound of the sliding food tray moving, he turned his head and lifted himself off the bed to stand up. His movements were slow, but Barney still found it himself to be patient and when he was finally ready, they moved him to the cart.

It wasn't a new thing that Dr. Lecter didn't respond. He'd once gone several weeks like this, but this time… Barney was slightly annoyed. He didn't know why, but it had something to do with the phone call to Agent Starling. Something told Barney that it was very important. As he rolled the cart into an elevator, he wondered if Dr. Lecter would have thought so himself if he wasn't so caught up in whatever he was doing. He'd once asked Dr. Lecter, what he was thinking about when he became like that. Something pleasant, he'd said.

Barney wondered what pleasant meant in Dr. Lecter's world.

The shower room consisted of two chambers; one where the subject would undress and the orderlies would wait in and then the actual shower where the subject could have some privacy. The shower itself was a big room with a chain hanging from the ceiling out of reach and a locked box that contained the hose. It was as big as the showers that Barney could remember from High School.

Dr. Lecter was released from the cart and his straight jacket was loosened. He took it off himself along with his mask. He seemed lucid enough to understand that he was supposed to undress and enter the shower room. Barney followed quietly and stood by the wall outside the chamber. There was no door, but as long as the patient didn't take one of the shower heads directly in front of the hole in the wall, he'd be out of sight and receive some privacy. Dr. Lecter always took the one to the far right and as Barney stood still, holding his breath and hoping Dr. Lecter didn't forget where he was again, he heard the water turn on. So far so good.

Barney poked his head into the shower room and saw Dr. Lecter stand under the water spray. He wasn't moving… The big orderly counted the seconds as his stomach churned. He did not want to do this. As the count reached thirty, Dr. Lecter suddenly snapped his head up. His eyes moved around the room and found the soap dispenser that was built into the wall. It was with a sigh of relief that Barney saw him press the button and start soaping himself in.

He leaned back and looked at Jim and Dean.

"He's good."

Dean looked positively relieved. He had been shocked last time when Barney had ordered Dr. Lecter chained to the ceiling. It was notsomething that the young man had anticipated. Barney would have done it again if it was necessary, you see, there was a special reason for Dr. Lecter's shower today.

Agent Starling was coming.


Clarice was nervous.

She kept trying to flatten out the nonexistent creases in her new dress that she'd bought last week when she felt angry and frustrated. It hadn't really helped her mood at the time, but it made her feel better now, as she looked herself over in the mirror. It was a nice summer dress that had been on sale as the spring collection hit the stores. The white fabric was covered in a pattern of small, red flowers and it reminded her of something a little girl might wear. It hung loose on her except for across the chest where her growing bosom stretched the fabric and her stomach was now so big that she couldn't help feel bad as she was reminded of a tent. But it was the best she could do.

The late afternoon traffic delayed her as she drove to Baltimore, but it still felt far too early as she drove into the parking lot of the Asylum. It had been a while since she was last there, but not a thing had changed as she looked at the looming building. She took her bag from the passenger seat and went in. People were glancing at her curiously as she walked down the hall. Their eyes fell to her stomach and she ignored them the best she could. Clarice had made sure to check that Dr. Chilton wasn't in today and walked past his office without halting.

Her arms were wrapped around her belly by the time she reached the elevator. To hell with the rules; she wasn't going to use the stairs. As she went down, she could feel the tears press on. What if he didn't want to talk to her? Barney hadn't called her back and she knew Dr. Lecter hadn't wanted to talk to her. When she'd called to make the appointment to come today, another orderly had picked up the phone and told her that she was welcome, but that Dr. Lecter currently wasn't speaking to his visitors. She had to try though. She had to try.

"Hello Agent Starling." Barney was smiling as he saw her, his eyes moving from her stomach to her face. "I wasn't going to believe it till I saw it. Congratulations."

"Thank you Barney." Clarice couldn't help but grin as his calming presence made her feel better.

"How have you been?"

"You're asking a pregnant lady how she's been?" Clarice shook her head. "My life is an emotional rollercoaster Barney so watch it."

"Sorry Agent Starling." Barney didn't sound very apologetic. "Do you want to see Dr. Lecter?"

Clarice felt her smile falter. She was suddenly reminded why she was here exactly and it left a bitter taste in her mouth. Barney sighed as he saw her expression and Clarice avoided his eyes.

"How has he been?"

"He hasn't talked with anyone for two weeks. We simply don't know." Barney turned around to the screen behind him and Clarice's eyes followed his gaze. It was the security footage of Hannibal's cell and it showed him lying on his bed, gazing at the ceiling. He wasn't moving. "He eats his food and he goes to the toilet. I'm not even sure he knows that you've called."

"Do you think he'll talk with me?" Clarice bit her lip, feeling her eyes moisten. She held her bag against her stomach as if it could comfort her.

"I think you should try." Barney led her to the barred door. "If anyone could make him talk, it would be you."

Clarice nodded as he let her through. There was something very intimidating about walking down a hall filled with the criminally insane. As usual, mostly thanks to Miggs's quick end, none of them said anything to her, but she felt their eyes move over her body. None of them seemed the least bit surprised to see a pregnant lady there, as if it was the most normal thing in the asylum and that it happened every day. She could smell the disinfectants and the sour smell of antipsychotic medication and it made her nauseous. She was flooded with relief as she came to the end of the hall where an air vent sent a cold wind against her. The chair was there and as she turned around to the cell, it nearly seemed empty. Hannibal wasn't standing up to greet her.

Instead, he was on his cot and his eyes were closed. A small crinkle could be seen in his eyebrows as he breathed in deeply through his nose. His body was trembling as he breathed in again.

"Hannibal?"

She would have thought he was sleeping, maybe caught up in a nightmare, but as she said his name, something happened. His head turned and his eyes shot wide open.


Hannibal Lecter was awake.

He'd been caught up in his thoughts when he first noticed a smell. Something familiar that was moving towards him. At first, he'd ignored it and turned back to his fantasy. It was a good one, like the thousands of fantasies before. He was a free man in this one. Hannibal was holding a small child and standing by a lake house, overlooking the water. The others were similar, though in some, he was still in the Asylum and managed to find his way out. Mason Verger usually ended up less than happy in those. But the familiar scent had been persistent and he felt his brow furrow as he remembered where he was.

That perfume…

His whole body was tense as he was thrown back to his cell from the lake house and felt the presence of someone outside it. Not someone, her.

He started trembling as he realized who was there. Her scent was intoxicating and his mouth dried. His hands curled into fists as she said his name and he snapped his head in her direction, opening eyes.

What met him was stunning.

Clarice Starling…

She was staring down at him, dressed in a white dress with little, red flowers and a black handbag that he'd seen before. She was clutching it to her stomach; right under it to be precise thus the dress was hugging her belly, showing it off completely

Her belly…

If his mouth hadn't been dry before, it definitely was now. His heart was beating against his ribcage as his lips parted, forming a small "o". He lifted his gaze to her eyes and saw fear; pure fear.

Hannibal tried to be graceful as he stood up, facing her, but he felt weak. Why did he feel so weak? His heart wasn't slowing down as he'd anticipated; instead it picked up speed as he came face to face with her. His palms felt sweaty and his teeth were grit so hard that he doubted he could speak. A knot formed at the bottom of his stomach as his eyes fell to her stomach again and he blinked, looking back at her. Clarice looked close to tears and suddenly he felt an urge to smash through the glass and take her into his arms. It wouldn't do…

"Clarice…" He started. What did he say? Thousands of questions were storming through his mind and he very well knew which one he wanted to ask, but all of a sudden he couldn't. When her name hung in the air between them and Hannibal couldn't continue, Clarice spoke instead.

"Are you mad?"

Her voice was tentative and he realized exactly who she was afraid of. As he tried to analyze his own feelings, he suddenly remembered the answer to the question. He understood why she had kept it secret. Brave Clarice was scared. He shook his head and mouthed "No."

Clarice took a deep breath and he knew she was relieved. The question must have been at the forefront of her mind for a while… A while? Hannibal avoided her eyes as he looked at his desk. The letters were stacked in four piles and his brow furrowed.

"What day is it today?" The question left him before he could stop himself and he saw the small smile on Clarice's lips. He didn't find it very amusing.

"Friday the 2'Th."

"Of September, I assume?"

"Yes… it is."

September… How could he lose track of time like that? He felt slightly disoriented, but he forced his eyes away from his mail and regretted it immediately a he was staring at her belly. Wherever he looked, there were more questions. He kept his eyes on the flowery pattern of her dress, memorizing it as he stared at the proof of her pregnancy. Dr. Chilton had been speaking the truth it seemed, or at least, some of it.

"I called you." Her voice was weak as he snapped his head up. Her blue eyes were filled with unshed tears and it was with a surge of adrenalin that he remembered how much pregnant women tend to cry. His tried to swallow but there was no spit in his mouth.

"I didn't know."

"Barney said you were unresponsive."

"I was somewhere else, yes." He couldn't have been completely unresponsive, he thought, if he'd been gone for nearly two weeks and he didn't feel hungry and with a small sniff, he concluded that the small glimpse of memory of a shower had to be true as well.

A moment of silence passed between them. Hannibal was once again eyeing her belly as if something might jump out of it anytime, but his heartbeat was slowly stilling and he dried his palms against his jumpsuit.

"How are you?" He finally started, trying to avoid all the questions that he really wanted to ask.

Clarice shrugged her shoulder. "The nausea passed some time ago… I mean, you're a Doctor, you know how I feel."

Hannibal nodded, suddenly feeling twinge of guilt. Of course he knew how she felt and she knew that he knew. She was looking right through him and she was waiting for him to ask what they both knew he wanted to. His heartbeat picked up speed again and he motioned for her to move closer as he walked up to the glass, nearly pressing his lips against it. There was no knowing who might be listening in. Clarice had her ear pressed to the glass as he spoke.

"Is it mine?"

He leaned back to see her reaction. Her eyes closed briefly and he could see the hitch as her breath caught in her throat. She turned her head slowly.

"Yes…"

A single word was all it took.

Hannibal's stomach did a double take and a smile broke out on his face. He took a deep breath and nearly bumped into the glass as he took a step forward. He wanted to hug her, hold her, touch her stomach and her face, but then reality hit.

His breath turned shallow as he lowered his gaze to the floor. Hannibal covered his mouth with his hand as his smile dropped and the tears threatened to fall. He stepped back, away from the glass and seated himself on his bed. His throat was clenching painfully and his stomach was threatening to jump out. He hung his head between his knees for a moment before he straightened up and looked back at her.

Clarice's eyes were wide as she watched him and her fingers were pressed lightly against the glass. Hannibal took a deep breath, holding her gaze. She was sad.

"I'm sorry Clarice."

"What's done is done." She said and he felt better when he saw the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Do you love it?" He suddenly asked. The words had stumbled out of his mouth as soon as they'd entered his mind. What if she didn't love it? It was his baby… what if she didn't like that?

"Of course I do."

"I'm sorry." He said again. It was his baby. And here he was. In an Asylum.

"What for Hannibal?" Sadness. She had to know the answer to that question, he thought.

"Everything." He couldn't say too much. Dr. Chilton could have a bug in here and the camera might be on low volume inside the orderlies' room but it still picked up everything they said. "You're alone, aren't you?"

"I have my best friend. She's going to help."

Hannibal nodded, looking at the floor.

"Do you need anything?" He asked. Clarice was a very proud girl and she probably wouldn't accept his money… but he had to ask. Being a mother did change things.

"I can manage on my own."

There it was; the pride. Hannibal shook his head in amusement. Nothing had changed.

"Don't hesitate to ask." He felt better, as if he had been preparing himself for the shock since he found out she was pregnant. But he hadn't been prepared for the initial happiness that he'd felt and the sorrow that quickly followed. He'd felt normal for a moment; like a normal man who'd been told he was going to be a father, but then he'd brushed against the glass and he'd been thrown back to reality. He was never going to be a father.

With a sigh, he got up and walked towards Clarice again. Her fingers were still touching the glass and he lifted his hand, pressing his fingertips against hers. He could only feel the cold glass.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was filled with sadness and he glanced from their fingers to her eyes.

"What for?"

"I should have told you."

"You couldn't know who might have been listening." He said. "You should remember that. You can't tell anyone, you realize that, right? They won't accept it. They won't accept me and they definitely won't accept the baby…"

"I know…" Her breath hitched and he leaned his forehead against the cold glass, closing his eyes. He couldn't do anything to make her feel better. They were very close and he knew no one could pick up on their conversation at that exact moment.

"I can't be the baby's father…"

"I know…"

"You will still tell me, though, everything?" He asked with closed eyes. "The first step, words… if the baby is smart...we're friends… people might think it's weird but they won't stop a proud mother from talking about her baby, will they now? You will be proud, right?"

"I will be proud." She said quietly. "But some day… I might not be able to come anymore. It's a job. The FBI wouldn't allow me to come anymore if they told me to stop."

"Then write me a letter."

"I can't promise that."

Hannibal leaned away. His eyes were closed and they were burning. He walked over to his cot and he sat down again. He knew that she was right but it still made his lips form a thin line as his throat clenched in rejection. It was his baby and then again… it wasn't.

It wasn't as if Hannibal wanted to be a father. He'd never imagined himself in that role, but now… Memories of his own childhood flooded his mind and with Clarice's situation… It didn't seem that farfetched at all. But he couldn't and he shouldn't. No one would accept or tolerate a child of his and Clarice was much better off without him.

He heard the barred door at the end of the hall open and then close as he was left alone once again.

To be, or not to be, that is the question.

And as it was, it seemed that Hannibal Lecter was not a father.

A/N:

Poor Hannibal… and I'm pretty sure Clarice feels shitty as well.

Please Review. I'm not at all sure if the conversation turned out as it should.

I finally acquired the books in English, so some of my words might change, like the sliding food tray has been called drawer so far… yeah, shitty translation on my behalf, sorry XD

I tried reading them in Danish, but it sounded so stupid that I gave up and had to order them in English. We can pretty much say that this story is based on the movies ^^ I've respected some things like Hannibal's eyes and fingers because it makes the story more fun to write.

Btw, don't buy the audiobooks on Itunes, they cut out half of the story… never been more pissed.

Firebolt