chapterfour


Ardelia sat dazedly on a sofa outside Lecter's- the Lecter's- bedroom. Her head in her hands, she hoped feverently Clarice would be alright. She didn't want to think about the baby. Or the two previous babies sitting on her left. Antonia held her brother's head on her lap, watching the little boy sleep. She hadn't spoken a word except to calm John. Mapp wondered if Lecter's coolness was some twisted form of autism he'd passed to this child.
How do you know my mother?

The crisp, yet still childishly high voice startled Ardelia out of her zone. The clear gray-blue eyes were fixed on her face.

I worked with her, before she married Lect- your father. I was her roommate before she met him. Something told her not to mention the FBI, or that her parent's first meeting was in a criminal institution, separated by three inches of Plexiglass.

She worked before she married Father?
Ardelia looked at the girl's face. It was round like Clarice's, with her nose, but light olive like Lecter's with what must have been his origional hair color. She was a near perfect mix of them, but the steely eyes looked oddly out of place. Little Lecter. Must throw a hell of a tea party.



Is she going to die?

That shook Ardelia, not a four year old child asking if her mother was dying, but without the signature warble of the terrified. No, calmly and quietly.

I don't think so. Your father is a doctor, he'll take the best care of her he can.

Will the baby?

I hope not.

The baby almost came a while ago. But Mother and Father stopped it. Because it was too early. Father said we weren't to upset Mother, or the baby could be sick or hurt if it came too early, and Mother might not be able to control it if she was very upset. Mother got upset when you were upset about John's name.

Ardelia broke the eye contact, afraid to respond. Antonia just titled her head until she could see Ardelia's eyes again.

You said his name was disgracing a man with an evil's baby. Why did you say that?

Because I knew the man John was named after. I ha- I'm not fond of your father.

What happened to him? The man John was named after.

Ardelia took a deep breath. The turning point. Realized nothing mattered .

He was killed in a drug bust, because someone didn't want to admit your mother knew better than him.

It sounded good. She wasn't going to traumatize a kid by describing Evelda Drumgo's baby and Clarice. The kid's parents would never tell them about their father's little stay in an insane asylum for nine counts of first-degree murder, or the reason it was a nuthouse instead of a jailhouse. All they probably knew was he'd met their mother in the US, and they'd run off and gotten married. Poor damn kids, once the feds got Lecter, they'd be hard evidence to send their mother to prison and grow up in a foster home. Ardelia shivered at the mental image of Clarice in a prison uniform.

But why don't you like Father?

He... scared me and your mother's old friends. They sort of... eloped. Ran off and got married without telling anyone.

I know what that means.
The way Antonia emphasized that made Ardelia smiled. She sounded like a little kid.
One shrill scream echoed out from behind the solid mahogany doors, punctuating something.

I know what that means, too.

The doors creaked open, and Lecter emerged from the room. He'd never looked like this before. Well, except for the bloodstained gloves he was stripping off his hands. His jacket was off, no tie, and he looked - happy. Peacefully happy. John had woken as soon as the door opened, and Antonia clutched him. Lecter walked over to the sofa, and stood in front of it.

Antonia, John, you have a new baby sister. Your mother is exhausted and slightly delirious, but no lasting effects.

He turned to Ardelia.
I don't know if it's the morphine or she harbors some inane desire to count you as a friend, but Clarice would like to see you. If you harm her or our daughter in any way, I will know.
She got up, and Lecter sat down on the sofa.

The room was pleasantly lit. In a trash can, a bloodstained surgical coat rested. A warming bed and just about everything necessary for delivering a baby was in the room. Obviously the birth had happened on the strecher, they wouldn't want to mess up the ornate bed. Lecter researched well. Clarice was resting in the bed, propped up on pillows. Her face was tired and drawn, hair matted with sweat, and (though Lecter had cleaned her up fairly well) she didn't smell too good. But she was radiant. Just so unabashedly happy. In her arms, Clarice held a white bundle.

Isn't she beautiful? Clarice cooed at her newborn daughter.

She's adorable. Why don't you just have your Lecter kill me already?

Want to hold her? It was more of a warning than a question, Clarice passed the baby to Ardelia. Mapp cradled the bundle in her arms like she had done with her nieces and nephews. The baby gurgled and opened bright blue eyes. She waved a tiny fist in the air. She won't have any memories of her mommy and daddy. Daddy on death row and Mommy in the nuthouse, maybe prison. Ardelia looked up at Clarice.

What're you naming her?
Clarice sighed.

I don't know yet. Hannibal and I have a terrible time with names. For Antonia, he wanted Mischa and I wanted Kimberly, I have no idea how we settled on that. John was my pick, Hannibal Jnr. just didn't sound right.
Clarice suddenly looked shy.

Awhile ago we were going through this again. I asked, if it was a girl... Ardelia. But, I think that might be a more suitable middle name.

What about your mother?

Louise Lecter?I don't think...

His mother?

Nicoletta Lecter?

Sounds mismatched.

I take it Florence will be vetoed once again. Lecter had glided into the room to quietly for them to notice. Ardelia glanced at the windows again. Nearly dawn.

You know I don't like it. Clarice smiled at him. He sat on the edge of the bed.

Agent Mapp, if you would be so kind.
Ardelia handed him the baby, who he held surprisingly gently. It should not be his child. But hey girl, it is. Clarice is - is happy. When, really think, was the last time she was really happy?
The last time Ardelia could remember Clarice being happy was the first time she'd met her. Only Clarice's head showed over the boxes she'd brought into the tiny dorm room. But she was laughing and sparkling with joy of being excepted into the great big honorable F-B-I. Ardelia knew her father was a sheriff and was killed when Clarice was little, so being a fed was big deal to her. Mapp liked her immediatley, and she saw the unhappiness later on. At graduation, the Jame Gumb fiasco put a damper on Clarice. Everything went downhill. The rescue bought her more enemies than friends. All the good ol' boys were plenty mad that she just stumbled on to Gumb's address and saved the day. A few tried to get the board to believe she'd known all along. The papers loved her, and that just made it worse.

But here she was, smiling at the father of her children, sitting up in bed, now asking what she thought a good name would be.

What about your sister? Becky, so Rebecca?

Clarice smiled again. I like it.

Lecter cleared is throat. A, Clarice, we should leave it open to consideration...

Hannibal, when you have a seven pound human larvae claw its way out of your abdomen over the course of thirteen hours, twice before totaling ninety-three hours, you will have unquestioned control of its name.

Lecter leaned over and kissed her forehead. That's my girl. he said quietly.

He turned, the newly decided Rebecca still in his arms. Now about Agent Mapp. What can we do with you? You know our faces, and our children's, where we live. What can we do with someone like that?

Clarice looked at Ardelia sorrowfully. You know my happiness, Antonia, John, Rebecca, and where I- we - plan to raise them. To give them childhoods unlike ours. Please Ardelia, I don't want to kill you, but there is no debate about hurting my children. Ardelia, it's your call.

The words burned in the air over them to Mapp. Scenes ran through her head. Clarice's eyes when she cried. John crying for his mother. John's scattered toys. Antonia holding her brother. Lecter holding Rebecca. Lecter holding a knife.

And through all this, she found an unnatural calm, not unlike the one the former Starling felt the night she ran away to here, and there the decision had been clear cut for her.

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I absolutley refuse to post the ending until I hear lots of critism! *smirks evilly*