Emergence

It was Friday. Or Friday night to be exact – just approaching 6pm. Lilia was struggling to get her dark grey jeans on; she had thought it would be a good idea to wear them, because they were comfortable, but now with them half way up her leg, she regretted her choice. She was still basically completely bruised from head to toe. Lilia didn't want to admit it, but her attacker had almost gotten the better of her, and now, struggling to get her pants on because of the pain in her body, she realised that; and the reality hurt.
When she finally got herself clothed, she walked into her bathroom to check her appearance.
She had feebly managed to braid her hair, so it wasn't just messily falling around her face, and settled on her white woollen sweater for a top – her pants were definitely comfortable now that they were actually on, but she feared the impeding pain when she was going to have to pull them off again later.
Her cheek was still lightly inflamed from when she had fallen, and there was bruising along the side of one of her shoulders from where he had hit her with the bat. Purple and angry. But at least the sweater covered it.
The worst part of her appearance were the indents left on the skin of her neck, where he had pressed the metal so deep that it had made her bleed. It was scabbing now, and looked better than it had, but she covered it over with some gauze and then wrapped her dark red scarf around her neck.
"There," she thought, half smiling at her reflection, now she looked better.

Lilia's appointment was at 6pm, and now she found herself walking hastily down the cold, snowy sidewalk. It was 5.55pm. She probably shouldn't have relied on the fact that her apartment complex was essentially right next door to Hannibal's office because she hadn't given herself enough time to battle with her body to actually put appropriate clothes on. She still hurt now, while she pushed her body to walk faster through the cold night.

When she managed to make it to the waiting room she looked down at her phone to check the time.

6.02pm

She felt her stomach drop – he had gone out of his way to offer to do this for her, and she couldn't even manage to make it on time to an appointment that was two steps away from her home.
She knocked on the door and waited. When she heard footsteps approaching, her breaths shortened and she became nervous.

"Lilia," he said as he opened the door and his eyes regarded her sadly. She must have still looked battered.

"Come in," he said and his hand was warm against the small of her back as he led her into his office.
The warmth that radiated from his room comforted her – anything was better than being outside while she felt like this.
Her thoughts were interrupted as her eyes roamed the entirety of his office. It was magnificent.

"Your office is lovely," she said, walking to the edge of the ladder where she eyed the rows of books above.
Hannibal had stayed quiet while she took in his room, but softly smiled now at her musings and replied, "Thank you. If books are something that interest you then perhaps, at a later date, you could borrow whatever you like, if it pleases you."

She turned back to gaze at his soft expression, still perplexed by the enigma that was Hannibal Lecter, and returned a soft smile to him, "I would love that."
Then she slowly, (with protesting bones), walked back toward him, "Forgive me, I am not here to admire your office, or waste your time, we should probably start…"

"You are not wasting my time – this is your time, and if you want to spend this session admiring my office, I will not stop you."
His lips quirked.
Lilia stared at him, something she found herself doing more often than not, and she crossed her arms over her chest, "I thought we were supposed to talk about my feelings?"

"Is that something that you want to talk about?"

She shook her head, "Not particularly, no. But I suppose if it helps with the nightmares, I should welcome it."

Suddenly the room became quieter, almost like it lost the playful air, and Hannibal took a few steps closer to Lilia.

With soft words he asked, "Are you getting any sleep?"

His eyes were intense – dark umber washing over her, and she found her quiet voice, "sometimes."
She said nothing else for a few moments, not sure what he was thinking, then took a deep breath, "Since the musician that I saw at the auditorium…I have been having nightmares. They were horrific at first, and I couldn't really sleep without hallucinating that he was somewhere in my room. Then they got better, and I was finally sleeping better again, not hallucinating – just having the nightmares every now and then. Which is manageable. But…after the other night…last night was one of the worst."

Her eyes had started to water; but she pretended not to notice. It was just the air.

"Why don't you sit down," he said, and she followed him to one of the chairs.

"So you're analysing me now?" She asked, mostly innocence in her tone.

"I'm not analysing you, Lilia. I just want to help you."

She fell silent and decided that now was the best time for her to pick at one of the loose threads on her jeans.

"Does it scare you to talk about the dreams?"

She continued to pick at the thread, "I think so. I think because then the reality of everything becomes a…reality."

She continued to avoid his gaze, her heartrate quickening. She didn't like to talk about these types of things period.

"And by them becoming a reality, you would have to accept what has happened to you."

His words were sharp. She hadn't wanted him to say them – but they were in a session, and he was doing his job. It didn't make the sting any less.

"Yes," she whispered and looked up to him.

"The only way one can heal is to first acknowledge what has hurt them, Miss Peters."

She didn't like his doctor tone very much.

It was right though.

"Why don't you tell me what happened last night?"

"O-Ok," she replied, and hugged herself a little.
Hannibal had reached for his notebook, and started jotting down little points by this time. She wondered what he had written.
"I didn't really fall asleep until the early hours of the morning – the pain kept me awake for some time. But when I did I dreamt that I wasn't able to move and I was staring up at my ceiling. The more I tried to struggle, the more an invisible weight held me down. It was hard to breathe.
Then I heard gasping in the corner – what sounded like gasping. I looked to my left and then," she tried to calm her raging heart, "The man that attacked me was pulling out the vocal chords of the musician from the auditorium. Except his eyes still had life in them and he looked at me, and I couldn't move while he just looked at me."

Lilia's eyes became glassy bright cerulean as tears started to fall from her eyes. She hadn't wanted to cry in front of him. She wiped at them and exhaled, "S-Sorry," she said.

"You shouldn't be sorry. Your mind has experienced something foreign and atrocious. Sometimes the way we process these things is through our subconscious state. Do you feel guilty about the Musician?"

Her brow furrowed in thought.

"Do you think that you could have prevented his death? It seems as though your subconscious mind believes that you were a bystander that allowed the death of another human, and your guilt is what holds you down in your nightmare."

She stayed silent and Hannibal leaned forward in his chair, "You know that there was nothing you could have done, don't you?"

She sighed – of course that was something she knew. But that didn't stop her from thinking of scenarios where she prevented his death. It was a human life after all.

"You need to accept that it was something that you couldn't prevent from happening."

"I am trying to. It's hard when you know them. And this dream…I feel like the image of his twisted body will never leave my mind."

"It will," he replied, then left from his chair, and returned with a glass of water, "here."

She hadn't realised but her hands were shaking; and now she looked at the water, and down at her hands feeling quite pathetic.

"S-Sorry," she said again, and took the water from him, "Thank you."

"I believe that brings our session to an end."

"What?" she said, looking up at him surprised, "Wasn't it supposed to last for an hour?"

"Yes, but you are in no state to continue at this moment – as much as you may try to hide it, you need to rest. Besides. The hospital only said that you were to have five sessions with a Psychiatrist, they did not specify for how long."

She smiled at him then; because something told her that he would normally keep prodding at his patients, rather than letting them off. But she was grateful. She placed the glass on the side table and lifted herself from the chair, hissing when a sharp pain shot through her back.

Hannibal was at her side instantly, holding one of her arms lightly,
"Are you alright?"

He was so close that his breath brushed her cheek, and she turned to look at him, startled by the pain and by his kindness.

"I'm fine, just still healing."

"May I walk you home?" He asked.

"Don't you have other appointments?"

"Not until later, let me get my coat."

As much as Lilia wanted to enjoy the short walk with Hannibal, she couldn't for very long. She had taken some anti-inflammatories earlier that day, which had long since worn off, and now with the cold air wrapping around her, she felt the pain tenfold.

"I'd like to recommend that you stay in bed for a few days, Lilia, it's not good for you to be up and about so soon."

"I can definitely promise you that I'll try," she said lightly, "I just don't like being alone for too long at the moment. That was when the hallucinations were the worst last time."

"Well, we will have to arrange something so that you are not alone so often then, won't we?" He said in his Lithuanian accent, which captivated her thoughts frequently, and she wondered if he meant that he was going to be keeping her company. The thought made her skin prickle.

They reached the door of her apartment and she unlocked it shakily.

"Would you like to come in for some tea?" she asked, as the door slowly swung open and she leant on the door frame looking at him.

"Unfortunately I will have to go back to my office and prepare for my next patient. Unless you need me to assist you with anything before I go?"

She almost chuckled when the first thought sharply jumped into her mind. He caught the flicker in her eyes, and asked, "Is there something I can assist you with, Miss Peters?"

Lilia hadn't realised how quickly ones lungs could suddenly just stop working, and depriving you of air. Or how easy pain was to forget when you were startled.

"N-No…" she started, trailing off her words when she realised that he was actually quite close – probably still worrying that she was going to fall at any moment from her injuries – but still managing to be incredibly intimidating and charming all at once.

"There's nothing I can think of at the moment," she finally said to him.

His eyes still held her gaze firmly and then he asked, "Are you sure? It looked as though you were internally laughing at something to yourself a moment ago."

She felt trapped.

She blushed and looked down, contemplating whether or not she should tell him; but before she had finished deciding, her mouth decided for her.

"I had a very difficult time trying to put these pants on. And I was laughing because I don't know if I'm going to be able to get them off."

He was quietly watching her for a moment – maybe just hearing her words. But when he took another step closer, so much closer that his body heat enveloped her and all she wanted to do was melt into it, she forgot her pain and suddenly found herself focusing on his very nice mouth.

She watched the next words fall from that mouth like delicate footfalls travelling across her skin and erupted in goose bumps.

"Do you need help taking them off?"

Her mind was a frenzy of thoughts. Everything in her body had forgotten how to function correctly; there were no words attempting to breach the forefront of her mind, no movements occurring in her limbs – just her doe eyed stare, caught by the hunter before her.

Say yes.

That was what her inner mind was now repeating over and over again. It had overridden the pain that was currently inhibiting her body and she was only warm now.
He was still staring at her and she could have sworn that she watched his eyes travel in slow motion across the expanse of her body – but she didn't trust one thing that her mind was sending her right now, because she could hardly believe that those words had left Hannibal Lecter's mouth.

"I-uh…" she tried, she tried so incredibly hard to say something but he was so intoxicating and she felt everything that was her, begging her to just pull him into the house with her.

She shook her head, and fumbled over her words again, "Goodnight, Hannibal," she finally said, and almost fell backwards through the door frame.

He stepped back, pulling himself from their intoxicating bubble and curtly nodded to her, "Goodnight, Lilia."

Lilia closed the door and found herself once again at a loss at the man that was Hannibal Lecter.

There was a light tap at the door of Hannibal's office at 8:55pm. Hannibal was sitting at his desk, articulately sketching across a page, and lifted his head at the sound.
He had been expecting his patient at 8:30pm, but they hadn't arrived at their delegated time, nor had he received any notification that they would be arriving late.
The knock repeated, this time louder, more insistent against the dark wood. So Hannibal lifted himself from his chair, covering his work in the process, and then walked to the door.

"I am so sorry, Hannibal," said Franklin, bursting through in an array of huffs and distress.

He hadn't waited for Hannibal to invite him in.

Hannibal turned to his patient, twenty five minutes late, and felt an anger boiling inside him, but kept it at bay.
Franklin had taken his jacket off now, and thrown it haphazard across the back of his chair, and flopped down in an oblivious heap.

Hannibal walked to his own chair, and eloquently took his place, before taking a deep breath and asking, "How are you, Franklin?"

Franklin stared at him for a moment, looking as though he were going to burst into tears again, "I was arguing with Tobias again."

Those words slightly piqued Hannibal's interest, "What was the quarrel about?"

Then Franklin sobbed, and it was a few moments before he could form a reply from the tears that choked his words and snot that dribbled from him.

"At first I was just angry with him because he has hardly been home, and he's been acting so strange, and saying some very disturbing things."

Hannibal crossed one leg over the other and leant forward, "To what strange actions are you referring to?"

"Well…a few days before that man was turned into an instrument, he had been talking about some man that had bought strings from him, who had 'insulted' his brand of strings, and literally said, 'I'd like to turn him into one,' and I brushed it off as a joke, but then that murder happened and –

"Breathe, Franklin," said Hannibal quietly, and Franklin froze like a deer, eyes wide and threw his hands to his mouth.

"W-What if he's the one that did it? I keep thinking that he couldn't possibly, but then when they said in the news that someone was attacked at the auditorium, I was petrified. The same night that the attack happened Tobias came home, almost hobbling but said he had almost been mugged, and they said that the attacker was wounded by the victim, then here he magically is at home with wounds… do you think I'm being paranoid? You're the doctor, tell me!"

The quick succession of words that had fallen from Franklin's lips amused Hannibal. He could see that his patient was completely torn over his discovery, and though Hannibal felt the need to help heal the psyche of a broken human, he did not feel it for this one. He enjoyed the struggle that was Franklin.

"Do you think you're being paranoid, Franklin?"

"Well, no?"

"Why do you sound so unsure? Do you think perhaps you are placing your fears about your friendship on your friend, and that maybe he has nothing to do with these murders at all?"

Franklin nodded slowly, brow still creased in thought, like he didn't want to absorb the information, but was making himself listen.

"I think," He paused, looking out the window of Hannibal's office, "…that you're right. We both know I have paranoid tendencies."

There was surprise for a moment – Hannibal hadn't realised that Franklin had the ability to recognise his own paranoia; always denying the truth that was before him, but perhaps that's what this was. Perhaps Franklin was trying to find a way to deny that Tobias couldn't be the murderer, and blaming himself was the easiest.

"I believe we should leave the session tonight, you are clearly calmer now."

"Oh…Well I suppose I should go and apologise to Tobias – he must hate me now."

"Franklin, do not be absurd. Stay calm, go home and make amends."

The session had gone on longer than Hannibal had realised. By the time Franklin had finished putting himself back together, over the sniffling and choked back sobs, and the frequent pausing in every sentence, time had completely surpassed them.

It was 10:55 by the time Hannibal returned to his home. He hardly ever ate leftovers, but because tonight had deprived him of time to cook himself a fresh meal, he settled for the leftovers from the night before.
By the time he had showered and finished his nightly routine it was close to midnight – his house was quite a cold temperature, but Hannibal found that he liked it that way. He had taken off his shirt and put his silk pyjama pants on, and was about to crawl into his bed when he heard his phone buzz from the dresser.

He walked over to it and looked down at the bright screen.

Message from Lilia at 11:30:

Lilia: Thank you for tonight – I'm sorry that I was so unstable.

Hannibal traced his eyes over the words, smiling to himself. He decided he would reply because there was a definite chance that she was still awake.

Hannibal: You're more than welcome. Please stop apologising for things you cannot control, you're healing and it will take you time.

He walked himself to his bed and got under the covers, holding his phone in his hands while he waited to see if she would reply.

Lilia: Sorry. I'll stop. I just don't want to waste your time – I like spending time with you.

He smiled.

Hannibal: I also enjoy your company. You're not wasting my time.

Then he waited a moment, thinking on what else he could write.

Hannibal: Although, I can't say I'm not a little disappointed that you declined my assistance today.

Lilia: There was an immense amount of reluctance in that decline, Hannibal.

Hannibal: Oh?

Lilia: Well, I didn't want to trouble you, you see. I actually required assistance with more than one thing, and you were short for time.

Hannibal's eyebrow quirked in interest – for someone who radiated a graceful reservedness to them, she definitely could become quite the flirt when she wanted. He liked it.

Hannibal: I would have stayed for longer if you had told me that you needed me for other things.

Her next reply was quick.

Lilia: Well, Doctor Lecter, I needed your assistance in removing my pants and my sweater.

Hannibal: Is that all? That wouldn't have taken very long at all.

Lilia: And then I needed your help taking off my shirt.

L: And then my socks.

L:And then my bra.

Hannibal swallowed because she was utterly breathtaking, and her words struck something deep within him.

Hannibal: Well then, I'll have to make sure that next time you require my assistance, I cancel all of my appointments, so I can help you remove every item of your clothing.

Lilia: If I weren't still so bruised, I'd be asking you to come and remove my clothes right now.

Hannibal: If you weren't so bruised, I would have removed your clothing when I was in your door frame today, and done much, much more.

Lilia: Maybe you shouldn't book any other patients after me next Friday.

Hannibal: What would you have me do instead, Miss Peters?

Lilia: Me.

A/N oOOOOOK As I do every time, I must apologise for the lame waiting period between uploads - I write something and then I don't like it so I re write it, and then I spend another fifty years switching between programs because every time I upload a file it comes up spastic spaced! If anyone has any recommendations for programs to use... I'm using LibreOffice at the moment, but it might be an outdated version. ANYWAY. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It is now 1:06am and instead of double-double checking that the chapter makes full sense and has the least amount of grammatical errors it can have, I have decided to upload instead! YAY. I hope you like it and thank you so much to all of you who have recently come to join the Hannibal and Lilia journey! And to those of you who review, thank you! Your reviews are inspiration to me and make me so excited to write more when I read them! So thank you all, and I hope to godddd that my brain kicks out another chapter this week, cause I really just want Hannibal and Lilia to 'get it on' ;) ;) if you know what I mean. ANYWAY HAVE A NICE DAY OR NIGHT OR AFTERNOON. FAREWELL FOR NOW MY PRETTIES!