~Usual Disclaimers apply. All of my next chapters may be just as long as
this, so bare with me! This one has more of a sad, sappy kind of feel to
it. Not really love, or out of love. Eh, I suck at summing it up. As I
said, most of my story is based on either the song in the end of the story,
or a song in itself. What can I say? Many songs relate. So read it, okey
dokey? C.S.~
Clarice Starling sat at her kitchen table. After about an hour of arguing with Delia that she was fine on her own, she was glad to be alone. At least, not in the company of an FBI agent. A doctor wouldn't hurt… she thought. She sorted through the mail Delia had left her. She'd pulled her tangle of hair back into a bun, many stray pieces falling to frame her face and shoulders. Some of them actually looked as if she had curly hair. She exhaled, the few hairs in her face blowing up and away, then settling back down by her cheeks. She sat back.
She clicked on her stereo, and pushed CD. She hated to admit she liked the music she listened to, especially since most of it pertained to unrequited love, or lost love, or something equally as depressing. It usually didn't bother her, but now… Now she wasn't so sure if she could take it. Still, she flipped to CD six, and pushed number two. She heard the beat start, then the words flow over her. She closed her eyes for a second, and turned the volume up two notches. Delia had gone back to work, so she didn't need to worry about a pounding knock on the wall. She listened to the words, forcing every other thought but one from her head. As she listened to the words and tears of fury and pain ran down her cheeks.
She threw the remote across the room, it hit the wall and broke in half. Her head fell into her hands as she started to cry harder. What was wrong with her? She was suppose to be so strong. She'd finally cracked herself into pieces. Always holding everyone else up put all the weight on her. She cried as she heard the words to the song.
1
When the rain's blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I would offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love
When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love
I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
We've known it from the moment that we met
There's no doubt in my mind where you belong
I'd go hungry
I'd go black and blue
I'd go crawling down the avenue
There aint nothing that I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love
Storms are raging on a rolling sea
Down the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
But you aint seen nothing like me
There aint nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends of this Earth for you
Make you happy
Make your dreams come true
To make you feel my
Love
That was all Clarice could stand of this. She got up and painfully turned the stereo off. She went back to the table and sat again, wiping away her tears and reaching for the mail. Her hand grazed over a package. Her heart seemed to hope too much that it was from him. She grabbed it and tore it open. Nevermind the gloves or the letter opener. She knew she wouldn't find him by trying to dissect the letter. She took out an envelope with the same wax seal on it, and her heart jumped. She quickly but carefully opened the envelope, and unfolded the one page letter inside. It read:
Dear Clarice,
I'm incredibly sorry for not sending word to you sooner. I've wanted to see you for a long time. I heard word through the newspapers that you where sent to the hospital. Clarice, I'm worried about you. Please meet me at the coffee shop on the corner, today, at three o'clock. I want to know everything, if you'll let me hear it. Until then.
Love,
Hannibal Lecter M.D.
Clarice's heart skipped again. Love? She re-read the word several times before glancing at the clock. It was five of three! Oh well, he can see me like this… He's seen me in less… she thought, and blushed. She picked up her crutches, which she'd decided on using instead of taking an hour to walk to the corner, and slipped on her shoes. She left the door unlocked as she left, so she wouldn't have to bother with keys AND crutches when she got home. She started on the slow, painful walk to the coffee shop. She kept her eyes on the ground below her as she walked.
When she finally got to the place, she looked in the window at him, sitting calmly in a corner booth. Seeing him again was like a breath of fresh air for her. She noticed she just wanted him to hold her. Forget the talking part, she just needed to be near him. She went inside, not aware of the new tears falling from her cheeks onto damp pools on her shirt.
He didn't see her until she was directly in front of him. As he did, there was a shift from calm to genuine hurt and worry in his deep maroon eyes. He stood, taking her into his arms and supporting her weight with his body. The crutches fell to the floor and she put her arms around him, suddenly very calm. She was still crying, but now out of relief and just being happy to see him. It almost made her forget about the news about the baby. The baby! I have to tell him…. She suddenly pulled away, lowering herself into the seat. He sat across from her, and she didn't waste any time. She spoke first, avoiding his eyes, looking at the table.
" Hannibal, about two weeks after you left, I found out I was pregnant. I didn't tell anyone, because well, you know. And I was sent to the lake house to find you, I thought you'd be there, and I needed to tell you. Well when I went I found Margot Verger, and she got a shot in right before I shot at her. She died and so did the baby. I'm sorry, I never meant for it to happen…"
She was crying again, breaking her words into halves of painful news to his ears. She finally forced herself to look at him. She didn't expect what she saw in his eyes. She saw pain. Real, true, readable pain. He was hurt, and she knew it.
"I'm sorry I let you down…" she said.
"You didn't let me down…You haven't done anything wrong, Clarice. I don't love you any less."
She could hear her breath catch in her throat, and she wondered if he'd heard it as well. He took her hand in his own.
"We could always try again…" he said.
Oh she wanted that so bad. But she knew it would be a long time before she could even have psychical contact in that way again. The wound hit her much deeper than she thought it could when she thought of not being able to make love to him. He saw the pain in her eyes.
"No matter how long it takes…" he replied to the look in her eyes.
She smiled. He was here to stay. And nothing could get in their way…Right?
Clarice Starling sat at her kitchen table. After about an hour of arguing with Delia that she was fine on her own, she was glad to be alone. At least, not in the company of an FBI agent. A doctor wouldn't hurt… she thought. She sorted through the mail Delia had left her. She'd pulled her tangle of hair back into a bun, many stray pieces falling to frame her face and shoulders. Some of them actually looked as if she had curly hair. She exhaled, the few hairs in her face blowing up and away, then settling back down by her cheeks. She sat back.
She clicked on her stereo, and pushed CD. She hated to admit she liked the music she listened to, especially since most of it pertained to unrequited love, or lost love, or something equally as depressing. It usually didn't bother her, but now… Now she wasn't so sure if she could take it. Still, she flipped to CD six, and pushed number two. She heard the beat start, then the words flow over her. She closed her eyes for a second, and turned the volume up two notches. Delia had gone back to work, so she didn't need to worry about a pounding knock on the wall. She listened to the words, forcing every other thought but one from her head. As she listened to the words and tears of fury and pain ran down her cheeks.
She threw the remote across the room, it hit the wall and broke in half. Her head fell into her hands as she started to cry harder. What was wrong with her? She was suppose to be so strong. She'd finally cracked herself into pieces. Always holding everyone else up put all the weight on her. She cried as she heard the words to the song.
1
When the rain's blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I would offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love
When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love
I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
We've known it from the moment that we met
There's no doubt in my mind where you belong
I'd go hungry
I'd go black and blue
I'd go crawling down the avenue
There aint nothing that I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love
Storms are raging on a rolling sea
Down the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
But you aint seen nothing like me
There aint nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends of this Earth for you
Make you happy
Make your dreams come true
To make you feel my
Love
That was all Clarice could stand of this. She got up and painfully turned the stereo off. She went back to the table and sat again, wiping away her tears and reaching for the mail. Her hand grazed over a package. Her heart seemed to hope too much that it was from him. She grabbed it and tore it open. Nevermind the gloves or the letter opener. She knew she wouldn't find him by trying to dissect the letter. She took out an envelope with the same wax seal on it, and her heart jumped. She quickly but carefully opened the envelope, and unfolded the one page letter inside. It read:
Dear Clarice,
I'm incredibly sorry for not sending word to you sooner. I've wanted to see you for a long time. I heard word through the newspapers that you where sent to the hospital. Clarice, I'm worried about you. Please meet me at the coffee shop on the corner, today, at three o'clock. I want to know everything, if you'll let me hear it. Until then.
Love,
Hannibal Lecter M.D.
Clarice's heart skipped again. Love? She re-read the word several times before glancing at the clock. It was five of three! Oh well, he can see me like this… He's seen me in less… she thought, and blushed. She picked up her crutches, which she'd decided on using instead of taking an hour to walk to the corner, and slipped on her shoes. She left the door unlocked as she left, so she wouldn't have to bother with keys AND crutches when she got home. She started on the slow, painful walk to the coffee shop. She kept her eyes on the ground below her as she walked.
When she finally got to the place, she looked in the window at him, sitting calmly in a corner booth. Seeing him again was like a breath of fresh air for her. She noticed she just wanted him to hold her. Forget the talking part, she just needed to be near him. She went inside, not aware of the new tears falling from her cheeks onto damp pools on her shirt.
He didn't see her until she was directly in front of him. As he did, there was a shift from calm to genuine hurt and worry in his deep maroon eyes. He stood, taking her into his arms and supporting her weight with his body. The crutches fell to the floor and she put her arms around him, suddenly very calm. She was still crying, but now out of relief and just being happy to see him. It almost made her forget about the news about the baby. The baby! I have to tell him…. She suddenly pulled away, lowering herself into the seat. He sat across from her, and she didn't waste any time. She spoke first, avoiding his eyes, looking at the table.
" Hannibal, about two weeks after you left, I found out I was pregnant. I didn't tell anyone, because well, you know. And I was sent to the lake house to find you, I thought you'd be there, and I needed to tell you. Well when I went I found Margot Verger, and she got a shot in right before I shot at her. She died and so did the baby. I'm sorry, I never meant for it to happen…"
She was crying again, breaking her words into halves of painful news to his ears. She finally forced herself to look at him. She didn't expect what she saw in his eyes. She saw pain. Real, true, readable pain. He was hurt, and she knew it.
"I'm sorry I let you down…" she said.
"You didn't let me down…You haven't done anything wrong, Clarice. I don't love you any less."
She could hear her breath catch in her throat, and she wondered if he'd heard it as well. He took her hand in his own.
"We could always try again…" he said.
Oh she wanted that so bad. But she knew it would be a long time before she could even have psychical contact in that way again. The wound hit her much deeper than she thought it could when she thought of not being able to make love to him. He saw the pain in her eyes.
"No matter how long it takes…" he replied to the look in her eyes.
She smiled. He was here to stay. And nothing could get in their way…Right?