It's been a long time, I know. I've been trying to come up with ways to keep this story going until I get to the climactic parts, which has proven pretty difficult. I've also been pretty busy at school, but I'm committing to keep the posts coming now. So, enjoy, and stay tuned!

Chapter 6: Therapy

"You mean to tell me... That there is now a child in your life?"

Bedelia Du Maurier eyed her patient intently, desiring to know his inner thoughts. Hannibal hadn't so much as blinked at the question, he was staring straight ahead at his fellow psychiatrist, emotionless. His stare was inhuman, it was as if a scheming demon was hiding behind the cloak of his eyes.

"Yes." He answered abruptly. He offered no extra information, deciding to leave it his psychiatrist to ask. It would be interesting to see this play out.

"You must provide details." Dr. Du Maurier insisted. Hannibal broke eye contact as he directed his stare to the window, preparing more abruptness to play with.

"She is fourteen years old. Her name is Amber. We get along decently." Hannibal returned to eye contact as he finished the brief description. "What else must you know?" Bedelia looked at her patient with a looming judgment.

"Foster children are often troubled." She remarked. "Is Amber troubled in some way?"

"She is antisocial." Hannibal shared. "Largely due to being misunderstood by people. But, she is beginning to warm up to others."

"Where does she come from? How did this girl end up in foster care?"

"I'm unaware at the moment, but I expect to find out when it becomes relevant." Hannibal didn't try to hide that he was withholding details. Bedelia didn't need to know everything, and he didn't mind making her aware of that. She understood the message, although it was frustrating.

"I see that you're not interested in sharing much." She commented. "But I do have one more question. What made you think this was a good idea?" Hannibal did his best to sound pitiful with his next words.

"I know that, in the context of grief, this was not healthy. However, I couldn't help myself. I learned from Abigail that I quite enjoy the feeling of fatherhood, and the opportunity to help a child in need was irresistible. I didn't want to wait." Bedelia was skeptical of Hannibal's pitiful tone, and certain that there was more to be said.

"Did you perhaps hope, on some level, that taking care of a youngster would keep some part of Abigail alive?" Hannibal hesitated a moment. Something stirred inside him. Was he, in some way, trying to keep Abigail alive? The thought had crossed his mind before...

"Perhaps." He replied. "But I'm well aware that Abigail is gone. Nothing can reverse that." Bedelia wondered what Hannibal was neglecting to talk about. There were certainly many things that he didn't with to reveal at the moment. She looked into his eyes, digging for an idea. Hannibal took the opportunity to check his watch.

"I must be going." He decided, standing up. "It was a pleasure to see you again, Dr. Du Maurier."

"One more thing, Hannibal." Bedelia said determinedly. "I assume you've been avoiding therapy in order to hide Amber from me, but I still don't know why you put so little effort into deceiving me. You promised to explain: Why have you been telling such obvious lies?" Hannibal almost smiled as he replied.

"Why does one seek therapy?" He asked. "People come to therapy to tell the truth. Lying to one's therapist defeats the point of therapy, so I prefer not to. If I can't tell the truth, I prefer to tell an obvious lie. It keeps the honesty alive."

"But not all of your lies to me are obvious." Bedelia reminded.

"My careful lies are usually as honest as they are deceptive." Hannibal explained. "I don't even think of them as lies."

Alana Bloom had found herself in Hannibal Lecter's office once again, sipping beer as he drank wine. She'd invited herself over, which she was about to apologize for, but there was a good reason.

"I'm sorry for coming over unexpected." Alana apologized.

"You know I haven't a care for when you come here." Hannibal said politely. "There is a reason that I keep beer around."

"I feel bad for showing up at your front door last week." Alana admitted.

"I did essentially ask for it." Hannibal said in Alana's defense. "I would have done the same thing if I was as concerned for you."

"Well... I've been thinking about our last conversation."

"What about it?" Alana put her glass down.

"I think I was too harsh." She said decisively. "I know, and you know, that what you did was..."

"Impulsive." Hannibal finished. It wasn't a question, it was a plain statement of the end of the sentence.

"Yes..." Alana admitted. "But I understand why you took Amber in, and I have to say, I think it's great, what you're doing for her."

"I'm trying." Hannibal said with a sign of sadness. "Amber has had a hard life. It's a challenge to help her live a better life after that."

"Honestly," Alana said caringly. "I think you might be just what she needs." Hannibal smiled.

"I appreciate your confidence in me." He said gratefully. Alana smiled back, then remembered the other thing that she had to talk to Hannibal about.

"I just remembered," she said suddenly. "I wanted to say that you should talk to Jack. With Will going to trial, we really need you around."

"Yes." Hannibal agreed. "I'll call Jack tomorrow and invite him for dinner. Could I ask you for a favor?"

"What kind of favor?"

"Is there any way that you could take Amber for the evening when I have Jack over?"

"Yeah, but why?"

"It would be a chance for the two of you to get to know each other. And, if I'm being frank, I don't see a reason for Jack to know about Amber at this point." Alana nodded in understanding.

"Okay." She agreed. The feminine psychiatrist smiled. "Amber and I will have fun." Hannibal grinned.

"I'm sure you will."

I probably used too much dialogue and too little description in the second part, but I hope it was okay. I'm posting this at night, but I met the deadline. As promised, chapter 7 will be posted no later than 10/30. Thank you for reading!