On the moment his voice reached her, when her conscious self acknowledged it, time froze for Clarice. Her brains were empty, her heart didn't beat and her lungs asked for no fresh air. The blood in her veins stood still.

"I'm right here, Clarice."

She didn't understand the words. She was too afraid to even think about them, terrified that if exposed to the dissection of her rational mind they would vanish like mist in dawn. Nor could she bring herself to look at the door, not being able to convince herself that he might actually be there in flesh and not just as a creation of her stressed mind. Not knowing which would be worse option; that he would be there or that he wouldn't.

She was stuck in a moment she detested staying in and was afraid to get out of.

Sure, this was what she had been after since the day he had left her standing alone in the terrace but now, the moment being at hand, she found she was terrified. All her questions seemed now useless and in vain, her pursuit of an explanation hurried and unwise. Did she really want to know? Really?



For Dr. Lecter the moment was a moment of the utmost nervousness and anxiety. When he had entered the house a few minutes ago he had gone through the whole scale of human emotions from pure exhilaration to sheer fear. How would she react? How would he react? After this time of loneliness and despair, what would it be like to see her? Smell her? Feel her?

And as he had, he had known it would be a one-time-only experience. He could walk out on her again and come back again and it wouldn't feel the same. He could spend the rest of his days with her and would never feel anything like this. He had felt weak and strong, sad and overjoyed, loser and winner – all in the same second.

To open his mouth and speak up instead of rushing to her and holding her in his arms till the end of time was probably the hardest thing he had ever came across with. When he spoke he didn't trust his voice though it remained steady.

"I'm right here, Clarice."

To see her reaction, or better the lack of it, her total stop, was like a stab in the chest. In that single second he saw the crushing, devastating pain he had caused her and it made him despise himself. He saw her disbelief, her fear, her lack of trust in her own senses – and all because of him.

Hannibal Lecter had never felt so low.



From the third party's point of view the situation held somewhat different emotions. When the death Luca had expected turned the invitation down and the atmosphere changed from threatening to… still, he carefully peeked behind his closed lids.

What he saw was her beautiful face only inches away from his own. He looked into her eyes and started; her eyes were the eyes of a corpse. There seemed to be no activity in her, it was like she had been a character on TV that was now on still. Her light breath quivering on his cheek offered a striking contrast to the cold steel pressing against his temple.

He moved his look from her dead fish-eyes to the doorway, his vision partly blocked by her shoulder. Yet he saw more than he would have wanted – Lecter standing only meters away from them. Not moving, just standing. For the second time during the time he had had interaction with him Luca came to think of a rattlesnake preparing for attack.

The situation felt like a very bad joke told by a very twisted person; things like this just didn't happen. You don't end up in the same room with a psycho killer and the black sheep of the American FBI after the former has hired you to follow the latter to whom you have fallen for. It doesn't happen.


Though he was in the worst position Luca had one advantage; the emotions he experienced were not even near to the other ones drifting in the air. It was probably because of that he was the first out of the tree to regain the ability to function.


Something that would turn out to be quite fateful for all of them.


Clarice came back to her senses a quarter of a second too late; her quick reactions aside Luca had already had too firm a grip from the gun. She still managed to fire; the bullet hit the wall behind Luca and the sound of the gun going off next to his ear left him half-deaf. On the next second, after a very short struggle, Luca was the one holding the gun. He literally jumped away from Clarice so that he was able to keep an eye both of them.

Dr. Lecter had moved forward. Luca aimed the gun at him.

"Stop!"

Dr. Lecter did. His contempt showed on his face.

Luca's voice was nervous. The gun in his hands trembled as he kept it aimed at Dr. Lecter.

"Ok, ok…" He licked his dry lips. "What the fuck is going on here?" His voice was a bit too loud and he spoke a bit too fast to be classified as a calm person.

"Watch your language, young man. " Dr. Lecter's voice was silk. "You are being very rude."

"Shut up!" Luca sounded desperate. His eyes had the look of a cornered wild animal. "I'm not taking orders from you. You are… I don't even know what you are."

If Dr. Lecter heard him he didn't reply in any way; his look was pointed at Clarice standing next to Luca. She didn't return the eye contact; she couldn't bring herself to. She was confused, angry, afraid and above all, hurt. She just stared at the floor looking very resigned. Her hands hung on her sides like they were paralyzed.


Dr. Lecter's chest ached to see her like that. How he would have wanted to reach out and touch the soft skin of her face, or to caress the shiny stream of her hair. How he would have wanted to turn back the time and wipe away the mistake he'd made. To kiss away her agony, hold her and tell her that everything would be alright. To save her from the pain… But he how would he be able to save her from himself?


Luca glanced at them, both distracted by something he had no idea about. Keeping an eye to Dr. Gol- Lecter who seemed to have woken from his thoughts he walked to Clarice - despite the look in Dr. Lecter's eyes. When he stepped behind her and pressed the gun against her neck, she startled. Only now she realized the situation they have gotten into.

"Luca…" Her voice was silent.

"Shut it! I'm not listening to you anymore. I've had it with your lies, Kelly – Oh, sorry, it wasn't your name. What was it, then? Have I forgot? Claire? Carrie?"

"Clarice." She muttered. "My name is Clarice."

"Whatever. Now, we're leaving." He yanked her.

Dr. Lecter's voice had a new level of danger in it. "We?" He stared at Luca under his eyebrows.

Luca tightened his hold of her. "Yes. We. She and me. Look, I don't even pretend to know what's going on in here, and to be honest I don't even want to. If this is what I think it is, well, you people are sick. Especially you." He poked Clarice with the gun.

Clarice felt an anger boiling inside her. "Who the fuck are you to criticize me?"

Luca grinned, ending up looking slightly insane. "I'm the one holding the gun, remember?"

Clarice closed her eyes in fury. Her delicate hand were pressed fists.


Dr. Lecter observed the situation with such cold rationality it would have made Luca wet himself had he seen inside his head. He wondered if he had the time to…


A stab of white-glowing pain filled his conscious self.


Oh no, not now.


Yes now, said the intruder inside him. Another arrow of inhumane pain made him stagger.


"What the fuck are you doing?" Luca's voice felt distant.


He concentrated all his mental strength to block the pain building inside him. Useless. There are things you can't beat and this was one of them.


Again, the pain slashed him, making him fall to his knees. It was hard to maintain consciousness.


Clarice, screaming out his name.


Pain.


Clarice…


Pain. Everywhere.


Darkness.



*


*


"What the fuck is he doing?! Get up!! Get up now!!" Luca's voice was near hysterical. Dr. Lecter's still body lying on the ground didn't move.

"Hannibal!!!!!! Hannibal!!!!" Clarice was struggling to get free from Luca, to get to Hannibal. She had seen his face, distorted and terrible, and she knew something was seriously wrong.

It was useless to fight him; he had much more physical strength. The gun pressed again to her neck, making her to stop struggling. Clarice spoke with a low, thick voice.

"Let go of me. Let go. I don't care what you do, you can leave. Let me go now."

For a split second it felt he was actually considering the option. Yet inside her she knew he wouldn't agree and was proven right a second later.

"No. You're coming with me. I'm taking you away. I'm..."

"Saving me? That's what you think you're doing? You stupid fuck, let go of me!!!"

"NO!"

Clarice stared at Dr. Lecter, tears of fear and anger burning her eyes. Every second that passed struck her like a sword and she saw nothing else than Dr. Lecter's still body. Her nightmare, her biggest fear had come to truth and she was helpless. He hadn't moved at all and Clarice was afraid he was dead; he didn't seem to breathe.

Luca pushed her a bit forward though she did her very best to fight him.

"We're leaving, now." He dragged her with him a few steps and then stopped.

A wry smile spread on his face. Clarice knew what he was about to do before he spoke.

"A favor to mankind." His eyes looked manic.

He aimed the gun at Dr. Lecter's still figure. "And they claim you can't kill evil."


*


What happened during the next few seconds remained forever unclear to Luca. All he had time to realize was that a second before he pulled the trigger, Clarice somehow managed to get free from his hold and take a hold of his hand holding the gun. By the time his brains realized the gun was aimed at Clarice, the signal moving his finger had already been sent.

Clarice flew backwards from the power of the shot and fell to the ground.

"Shit!!" Luca dropped the gun and watched as Clarice, stunned from pain, crawled to Dr. Lecter's body. She didn't have the strength to move very much, just close enough to touch him.

In the next second Luca's feelings took hold of him and he was next to her on the ground, searching for the wound caused by the bullet.

"God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…."

Ignoring his babbling and focusing all of her to staying conscious Clarice reached for Dr. Lecter's sleeve. It didn't take her long to find what she was looking for.

Luca, bent over her, pressed the wound with his hand. "Let's get you to the hospital... Come, I'll help you up…"

Clarice turned her face to her and whispered something. In order to hear Luca leaned very close to her.

Her whisper was dry and barely audible. "I'd rather burn in the fires of hell for a thousand years with him than live a day in the paradise with you."

She swung the Harpy; as the hot blood splashed on her she lost her consciousness.



Three figures, all still, lying on the floor; like the closing scene of a grotesque play.