Hello! In this chapter I attempt to explore how Charlotte is coping. It's a little introspective but I hope you all enjoy it. Personally it's one of my favourites. Enjoy my dears and thank you for your continued reading, reviewing, favouriting, and following xoxo
Chapter Fourteen
Their time in the hospital together had been cathartic. Charlotte genuinely felt as though she could heal with her Will Graham at her side. Her pain felt halved in his presence. He was realistically the only other person on the earth who understood her agony. They'd wept together, felt their anguish together, and healed one another. His vulnerability made her feel strong. She felt validated in seeing his shattering heart. She had not overreacted in the face of her pain. She had been right to feel so alone and crushed in her loss. He'd barely left her side while she was in hospital. He'd gone once to speak to Mariam Lass. Charlotte understood that he needed to. They were both victims of the rippers cruelty and Charlotte supposed such a meeting would be cleansing for Will.
She'd noticed certain changes in Will since his time in Frederick's hospital. He had a new found stillness that unsettled her. His brows did not jump with every word, his lips did not twitch with each sound, and his eyes never darted. She wasn't sure she liked that change. There was a ruthless concentration that had instead taken it's place. He stayed so pristinely still all the time. Charlotte could only see herself mirror him, but she knew that the stillness was not inspired by her.
She could only attribute the careful control to Hannibal. Will held himself not dissimilarly to their estranged friend and it unsettled Charlotte in a way she didn't understand.
Hannibal had not contacted her at all since his party. Charlotte found that fact numbing. She wasn't sure why it clawed and hurt her. His betrayal oddly stung her more than anything Will had ever done to her. Charlotte however was stubborn and she sure as hell wouldn't contact him first.
The only real development in the hospital had been an engagement.
Charlotte had been hesitant at first but Will had brought it up gently and coaxed her to agree.
"It just makes sure I can see you if you're in hospital," Will had said softly. "From a legal stand point….and I do love you…"
With that rational Charlotte had agreed. It seemed important to him, even if she didn't feel it was the best timing, so she obliged happily enough. She wore her grandmama's ring which Will had fetched from their home. She didn't want him to buy one. She didn't want anything flash. She'd wear her family heirloom on her finger and that was the only thing that changed between them.
Will of course hid his real reasons. His rational was to assure Charlotte's financial safety if he did not survive Hannibal. At least she would have legal efficacy to receive his property if he could convince her to marry him in time. That engagement ring would at least make her claim to his property a tighter argument. That however wasn't as appealing he supposed as 'love', nor did Will wish to stress Charlotte with such outcomes. He also wanted to leave her with an assurance that he did truly love her. He was sure if worst came to worst she might not believe that true.
He was logical now. That had changed in him. His imagination still ran wild but now he could see clearly. He could control his own fate.
When they'd finally left the hospital Charlotte was still weak. Will glanced her worriedly as they drove in silence home. He would give anything to see her smile again. It had been months since he'd heard Charlotte laugh. He missed it in a deep aching way that clung to his chest.
They didn't speak for the hour long drive. She'd simply laid her head to the glass and watched the cloud smattered sky above with silent, vacant eyed, contemplation. Will partially wanted to know what was happening in her mind but he understood someone like Charlotte needed her space in the face of her agony.
Will had his stroke of genius when his car pulled up by his house.
Charlotte went to follow him in to the house, still pale and weak, still sad; but he stopped her.
"Just wait," Will said and she gave him a tired glance. She trusted him however and stood in the snow just in front of the stoop.
He jogged slowly to the house and opened the door. The swarm of his stray dog pack streamed from the house and tumbled across each other to get to Charlotte.
It started as a small twitch of her lip. Her sadness was lifted momentarily as she watched her fluffy friends fall across each other to reach her and her first laugh was elicited by buster.
She laughed as her small friend tumbled in the snow. Will watched her trudge through the snow and sat heavily beside her little friend.
"Oh mon chien," she chuckled as buster leapt to kiss her face. She tutted softly while she kissed the top of his little head repeatedly. Will watched for a moment before walking across to her slowly.
"I thought they may cheer you," he suggested carefully. She nodded and glanced up at him.
"They do," she said with a soft smile. Will could see a contentment in her eyes he hadn't seen in three months. He hadn't heard her laugh in three months. Even though it had been a small laugh it had filled Will with deep satisfaction that warmed his heart. He watched her embrace the pack. Each dog greeted her in their own little way and she patted and acknowledged each one. The warmest welcome however was for Winston. That dog was her guardian angel and she held her golden haired angel to her for a long moment. She laughed once more as buster once again tripped over himself.
Will leant and watched from the porch. She looked so young when she smiled. There was a sadness in Charlotte's eyes that aged her beauty. When he heard her tinkling, infectious laugh however Will found his heart feel light for the first time in a long time.
Their private moments of contentment however were very short lived. Charlotte had turned when she heard the rumble of a car and recognised the car almost immediately.
"Why is Frederick Chilton here?" Charlotte called to Will. Will watched the car speed up their driveway and he frowned.
"I'm not sure," he told her honestly as he stepped across the porch slowly. Frederick stumbled from the car and the dogs swarmed up to him.
Charlotte stood and blinked in shock at the sight. Frederick was covered in blood. She tilted her head and edged slowly towards Will. Frederick threw a frantic glance between the couple.
"May I use your shower?" he asked as he weakly swatted the dogs away.
Will and Charlotte both nodded and carefully lead him in to the house. Charlotte took Frederick to their bathroom, brought him fluffy white towels, and left him to his own devises without question. The moment he snapped the bathroom door shut the gravity of what had happened settled. She rushed down stairs to find Will already on his phone. He was muttering quietly to whoever he had called.
"What an earth is happening?" Charlotte asked quickly. Will glanced up and murmured one more indistinguishable thing down the phone line before hanging up.
"Charlotte," he said firmly as he swiftly stood and walk towards her. "Do you trust me?"
She nodded deftly as his hands came to cradle her head.
"The police are going to come and take Frederick Chilton," Will said. Her eyes widened and her breath caught. "Charlotte let them. You have to trust me ok?"
"But why-"
"Charlotte please," Will stressed. "Just trust me."
She searched his eyes and she allowed her implicit trust in Will Graham to drown all doubt. She nodded in his hands and he could see such deep faith burn her gaze Will felt truly settled in the face of her almost blind belief.
Will pressed a swift kiss to her head. Frederick appeared in a fluster down the staircase and Charlotte gave him a sly glance. Will was a paragon of calm. They followed the freshly cleaned Frederick to a spare room and Will sat casually on a wooden chair by the door. Charlotte hovered behind him as she rested a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm his patsy!" Frederick snapped and Charlotte gave Will a measured look. Will glanced at her and nodded calmly.
"Make us some tea Charlotte," He said evenly. She hesitated. "Please."
Charlotte nodded slowly and removed herself from the room. She was slow and careful in her administrations. Frederick's low growls were incomprehensible. Whatever he was saying it was aggressive and panicked. Will's voice was calm and she found the shift in him since his time in prison disconcerting. Will was skittish previously and now he had a unspoken focus about him that unnerved her if she was honest.
People changed she was sure, but she wondered how much Frederick's hospital had changed Will.
She allowed herself to think of where the blood had come form. Had Frederick harmed somebody? She wouldn't consider him capable but she was starting to feel that she couldn't really trust anyone.
Even when she was done making the tea she didn't bring it in. She wasn't an idiot. Will just wanted her out of the room and that was enough for her. The situation had come with a sense of detachment Charlotte didn't want to examine. It was as though she had bathed in such sadness that nothing could drown her senses anymore. She was at one with the consuming black swirling water and she could feel a desperate determination to find an ending to it all. She didn't care if the puzzle piece fit, it just needed to finish the picture. She was fond of Frederick but she was fonder of her fiancé. She trusted Will over anything she knew about Doctor Chilton. He'd been Will's constant companion in that hospital she mused softly to herself. If anyone knew Frederick out of the two of them, of course it would be Will.
Her ears however did perk as the dogs begun to yap. She slowly edged across her home and back to Will as she saw the black gleam of a familiar Chevrolet SUV.
"Who did you call Will?" she heard a panicked Frederick demand. Will didn't answer. Charlotte walked swiftly to the room and hung to the door frame. Frederick's gaze darted between Charlotte and Will and he trembled.
"Who did you call?" he demanded at Charlotte.
"No one!" She replied in surprise at his accusation.
Frederick hesitated and suddenly snatched a gun from his pocket. He threw the nozzle between Charlotte and Will. Will looked utterly unimpressed while all that was elicited from Charlotte was a wide eyed blink.
"You're not a killer Frederick," Will said with a small laugh.
Charlotte's innate sense of survival was removed momentarily to be replaced with her irritation. She had suffered enough indignity without a gun being hoisted in her face. How dare Frederick throw such a weapon so carelessly about her home.
"Rude," Charlotte scolded as she followed Will from the room. "Rude Frederick."
Frederick trembled in his place as the two allies he had left the room.
Will was quick out the door and Charlotte watched his aggressive exchange with Jack from the doorway.
"Hello Jack," she called casually. Despite her new found like of the man she couldn't help but smile softly when she saw his agitation flare at her false politeness.
"He's got a gun Jack," Will tried to interject as Jack barged in to the house.
"Good!" he bellowed as he begun to quickly rush through their home.
Charlotte stepped out to stand by Will. He turned a small smile to her and he saw her watch him carefully.
"What is happening Will?" she asked quietly and Will hesitated.
He could lie to her he supposed but she'd never believe him.
"Jack thinks Frederick Chilton is the ripper," Will said. That wasn't entirely untrue. She stared blankly and her lips twitched in to a smile.
"La foutaise," she uttered disbelievingly.
Will had heard her say that enough to know that she had called 'bullshit'.
He shrugged and she glanced back at the house. It had grown silent but she felt detached. Her own pain was so consuming Charlotte wasn't sure she could feel anything else just yet.
"Is Jack insane?" Charlotte asked and Will shook his head.
"Evidence points to him-"
"Evidence points to you!" Charlotte interrupted sharply. "Do you really believe this!"
"I'm not sure," Will lied and she pulled a vexed face. Charlotte viewed him for a moment before heading back in to the house. Charlotte waited by the window to see Frederick Chilton dragged out by Jack Crawford and thrown in to the black car. Frederick was trembling and sweating. He looked sincerely terrified and Charlotte watched from a distance with a disbelieving heart.
Charlotte was quickly learning the evidential truth of trauma was that the need for closure can be blinding. Of course she wished she knew who'd hurt herself and Will but she hadn't offered it much thought. She figured in her vortex of stress and loneliness she'd felt in Will's absence that it would drive her mad.
Will had entered the house and walked up stairs without addressing her. She watched Jack drive Frederick away and she pulled a frown.
There was only one person she wanted to talk to.
She didn't tell Will she was going. She'd left a written note in the kitchen and hoped in to her car.
She arrived outside his office with in the hour. It was an educated guess that he'd be there. Unlike last time Charlotte didn't hesitate by her pink stain on the steps. Her heart was heavier with the pain of her loss than anything that the scar that ran down her right wrist could elicit from her.
She hesitated by the door but knocked. He took only a moment to answer it and his eyes blinked in surprise at the view of her.
"Hello," Hannibal Lecter said evenly.
She stared at him and felt a flurry of emotions ravage her weak frame. She hated him and adored him. She wanted to slap him and hug him. She had never wanted anyones attention more nor wished to turn her back on them all at the same time.
"I'd like to come in," she finally settled on. Hannibal moved away and she took shaken steps in to his grand office.
It smelt like sandalwood and warm paper. She inhaled for a long moment, taking in the sound of his crackling fire, and felt her shoulders loosen.
She stood in the middle of the room and Hannibal watched her take in her familiar surroundings.
"Am I interrupting?" she asked, feeling his gaze against the back of her neck.
"No," Hannibal replied. "I'm free for the rest of the afternoon."
She turned swiftly on the spot and faced him. Dark lined ran ragged beneath her deep set, brown eyes. Her skin was wan, her frame thin and frail, but there was an anger burning her gaze that overpowered all weakness the rest of her figure conveyed.
"You owe me an apology," she said in a low tone. She was deathly soft in her request and Hannibal felt a spark of surprise at her forwardness.
"Excuse me?"
"You are not excused," Charlotte replied swiftly. "I have suffered Hannibal. Where were you?"
"I do not understand-"
"Liar."
Her eyes burned such unsatisfied rage Hannibal felt a burning spark of excitement in the face of her wrath.
"I'm sorry."
She said nothing as she viewed him almost hatefully.
"I am not Will's keeper," she continued vehemently. "And you tarred and feathered me-"
"I was wounded," Hannibal interrupted evenly. "And I punished you unfairly, I understand that but I-"
"I lost my child!" she cried loudly. It was the first time she'd said it in such certain terms and it tore through her. She looked raw and dangerous.
Hannibal paused. She'd never raised her voice to him before. He stilled in front of Charlotte and she glared at him.
"You were my friend!" she implored. "I needed you!"
"Charlotte I am sorry-"
"But you were busy with Alana Bloom!" she said with disdain. "This was my hour of need Hannibal and you failed me!"
Hannibal stopped himself. He watched her closely, regarding her devastation carefully. This was going to go one or two ways. She would either turn her back on him forever, or she was begging for his friendship.
Hannibal decided humility was his greatest ally.
"I am so sorry," he told her softly. She paused at that response. She viewed him with burning eyes, her gaze pained and betrayed. "I know. Charlotte I won't ever forgive myself so how could I expect you to perform such an act of absolution."
His response shocked her momentarily. She hesitated in front of him and glanced about the room.
"I don't forgive you," she said in a small voice. Her viciousness had been a front and Hannibal was quietly sated in his ability to read her so clearly.
He took a careful step towards her but she did not move.
"How are you Charlotte?" he asked softly and her hands shook at her sides.
"Terrible," she conceded through gritted teeth. She gulped and bit down on her lip.
He nodded and viewed her carefully. As her hands trembled Hannibal caught a glimpse of her ring. He drunk it in shortly. He'd pry later, organically. He wouldn't ask now but he was desperate to know about it. He wondered if Will knew she was here. Alana had mentioned that she had been unwell and he could see it on her. She smelled unwell. There was a sweet stickiness that clung to her skin. Did Will propose to her in the face of mortality? Was it from love or grief?
"Would you like to take a seat?"
She paused but nodded and he lead her to the two leather chairs that sat in front of his crackling fireplace.
She hesitated and sat tentatively in her chair. Hannibal watched her for a long moment as she steadied herself.
"I am so sorry for your loss Charlotte," Hannibal murmured softly.
She almost shook her head in the face of his condolences. Her knuckles turned white as she bunched her fists in her lap and Hannibal felt waves of deep, visceral satisfaction in knowing such untaped anger existed in Charlotte's heart.
"It's an ocean of sadness," she muttered. "Punctured by a swell of rage."
"Is Will coping?" Hannibal asked. She nodded.
"He is my strength," she uttered reverently.
They stayed silent for a moment but Hannibal could tell her need for friendship had over powered her feelings of betrayal. He could see the loneliness that only pain could bring glitter in her gaze as she stared intently at the fire in front of them.
"They think Frederick Chilton is the ripper," she muttered.
Hannibal stilled at her confession. He waited patiently as she lowered her head in to her hands.
"He came to our home," she muttered. "Covered in blood. I don't know…"
She peaked a glance at her patient companion and sighed.
"Frederick Chilton," she murmured. "He's harmless."
"Do you have anyone else you feel could fit the description?" Hannibal asked evenly. She paused and glanced at him.
She shook her head and shrugged.
"I want it to end," she whispered. She looked at him pleadingly and Hannibal gave her a soft, sad smile.
"You must be exhausted," Hannibal agreed and she glanced away.
"It's been so long since it's been still," she whispered.
Hannibal let a pregnant pause hang before he allowed his question to finally surface
"Are you engaged Miss Claude?" he called calmly. Charlotte blinked and glanced her hand.
"Oh," she uttered. She blinked at the ring and nodded. "I am."
"I offer my congratulations," Hannibal told her. He sounded sincere and she flickered a smile to him.
"Thank you."
Hannibal wanted to pry. He wanted to know why it had happened. Was it a reaction to grief? A river of questions ran through his mind but he knew better than to push her. She'd just returned to him and he had no want or need to have her flee. So instead the two sat in silent contentment of each others company for a long time. By the time Charlotte left darkness had dashed the winter skies. She was still too weak to truly argue with him. He'd seen the sadness of her soul in their silence and it had pacified him. Even in her darkest hour she sought him. Despite his cruelness and his distance she had wanted nothing more than his company.
Charlotte's young life had seen horror's Hannibal knew that she felt only he could understand. No matter what he did to her it would never replace the unexplainable calm his presence brought her. She had Will and she had others but it was only in silent contemplation beside him could Hannibal see her develop the ability to digest her anguish. He wondered silently if Charlotte's attachment to him meant that Will Graham would soon be at his steps but he dashed the hope.
Will Graham had seen him and despised him.
He'd seen Charlotte leave with the same heaviness but her disbelief that Frederick could be a killer had softened. Her resolve had crumbled in the face of her need for the horror to end. Of course she was upset at such an idea but if it meant it would end…
Hannibal's musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. He paused and opened the door and his paused in shock to see Will Graham stood in front of him.
"Good evening Doctor Lecter," Will said calmly.
Hannibal gestured him and watched Will walk to the middle of the room and observe his office with calm detachment.
"Did you leave my standing appointment open?" Will asked and Hannibal nodded. He still was unsure why Will was here.
"Can I help you Will?" He asked and Will turned with a relaxed smile.
"I'd like to resume my therapy Doctor Lecter," he said evenly.
Hannibal stood and stared.
well well well…
This certainly was going to be much more interesting than he'd ever dared hope.