Usual Disclaimers apply.
A/n: Thanks to everyone who posted a review, your too kind. Special thanks to Sam and Savvik for there encouragement. Enjoy!!!!!!
5.00pm
Hannibal watched as she crumpled in front of him, only noticing now the echo of the shot fired ringing through the ally. Wasting no time by looking for the source he quickly ran to the walls shadows and scanned the surrounding area. It seemed almost a sub-conscience activity to him now, something he did without real thought, but no matter his whereabouts he always had a partial escape route formed in his mind. Looking down he could see Clarice was slowly slipping into unconsciousness, although her eyes where still partially open and looking to the sky above her, he could see the dazed and almost sleepy haze settling over them. Unfortunately he could not see the entrance wound, and had to surmise she had taken the bullet in her back. That would mean the shooter was somewhere to his right, if indeed there was only the one. It was simple good fortune that they hadn't stayed far from the wall in their admissions and confessions, and so she was within easy reach from his protected position. Listening intently, he dropped to his hunches, back pressed tightly to the wall and managed to grasp Clarice's wrist. Dragging her across the tarmac wasn't ideal if the entrance wound was situated on her back, but he couldn't take the risk of himself being targeted by leaving the wall to carry her. With her wrist in hand he quickly checked her pulse and was relieved to find it strong beneath his fingers, and with a grunt quickly pulled her to his side, a short whimper the only sound to leave her lips.
The shout that sounded out from the roof above came as no surprise to him, as he had heard the scuffle of boots only seconds before.
"F.B.I! We have the area surrounded!"
Ignoring the statement, he effortlessly lifted Clarice and held her tightly to his chest, the smell of blood almost overpowering. Keeping to the shadows he walked calmly south to the almost hidden wooden floor cellar, which he assumed led to the adjoining building. The shouts where coming louder and faster, spoken from he approximated at least thirteen different men. He could hear the helicopter in the distance and could smell the armed men as they closed in on their position. Without dropping Clarice he kicked the simple catch that held the rotted doors together, and was silently thankful when it shattered on contact. Time was limited now, and he lost none of it with dropping down to the wet, dark and rat-infested cellar. Gently depositing Clarice at his feet, he reached back and closed the doors. The F.B.I. may have been a group of simple-minded sheep, but he didn't feel the need to be cocky now he had precious cargo. With their only source of light cut off, he was for once glad that Chilton had kept him in complete darkness for endless weeks, the supposed torments giving him excellent night-vision. Picking up Clarice once more he was slightly alarmed when she didn't rouse, but didn't ponder for too long, knowing he would be hopeless to her if he wasted too much time in making their escape. Holding her close he made his way to the far door, avoiding the obstacle course, which littered their path. Opening it he could see it was a long room, slightly lit by the high windows that adorned the walls. The building had long ago been abandoned and by the look of the floor, had been the home to decades of squatters and homeless people. The putrid smell of human waste and urine was nauseating, and he quickly made his way to the far wall, drawing breath from the air that filtered through the smashed window. Pausing to evaluate their next move, he stained to look out the window and noticed they where now on the other side of the building. Not far way from his car. If he were going to do this, he would have to do it soon. What felt like hours had actually only been minutes he knew, but as incompetent as the F.B.I were, he knew they would soon be scouting the entire area.
Noticing the small set of concrete steps which were the exact replica of the ones they had entered from, he ran with Clarice held securely to him, smiling when looking up, he was looking at an identical set of wooden doors. Leaving Clarice leaning against the steps, he backtracked to the small window nearest to him and using an old crate which by the look of it, had once been a makeshift poker table, deftly climbed out the window, not even noticing the shard of glass cut into his arm. Keeping low, he let his eyes roam over the quiet street, watched the squad car race down the adjacent street towards their previous position, and the hum of the helicopter as it approached. They didn't have much time. Standing and walking briskly across the street, he disappeared from sight as he turned the corner.
6.00pm
The first thing she was aware of was the burning in her back. It felt as though someone was holding a lit match to her skin with no intention to remove it any time soon. She tried to move away from it, wriggling and whimpering, but a cool firm hand on the low of her back pressing down stopped her.
" This will all be over much sooner if you lie still Clarice. Please."
His voice was soft yet demanding, but none the less comforting. Feeling the needle as it slipped into her arm was the last thing she remembered.
7.00pm
Movement. Noise. Darkness. Silence.
Clarice could feel the world starting to slip back, and with it came the sharp pain in her back. Groaning involuntary as she tried to move, she once again felt a hand. Signing at the sudden coolness on her forehead, she relaxed into the comfortable material at her back, raising her own hand sluggishly to cover the one that held the cool cloth.
" Dr ?" she croaked, her throat dry.
Slowly blinking her eyes open, she had to fight the slight blur, raising her other hand to rub them. When her vision eventually cleared she could see him sitting at her side, one hand holding the cool cloth to her forehead, the other holding a small stainless steel dish with a syringe and small vials. Dragging her eyes up she met his own concerned gaze and offered him a strained smile.
" Diagnosis?"
He placed the small dish on the bedside cabinet and removed the cool cloth, smiling gently as he spoke.
" You were extremely lucky Clarice you suffered only a flesh wound. You have suffered some blood loss making you slightly anaemic, but nothing that a simple course of iron won't fix. You may feel some soreness around the entry point and surrounding area, there is some bruising around your ribs and…"
" What hit me?"
" A 7.62mm sniper round I believe, standard issue for F.B.I special opts. If it had been a few inches to the left there would be a hole in your stomach the size of my fist."
" Gee you have a great bedside manner there. Will I live?"
" I'm sorry to say that you may have only 50, perhaps sixty years left."
The small giggle that left her throat was soon regretted as a bolt of pain rushed through her system. Grimacing she closed her eyes, automatically seeking his hand. When she felt a small pinch in her right arm she quickly opened them and saw he was using the needle she had spotted earlier.
" Don't…"
" Pain killers, anti-inflammatory and something to kill any infection. Nothing more I assure you."
" I don't want to sleep. What if we were followed, what if.."
" Clarice calm yourself you are perfectly safe. The F.B.I will be following their own tails for days I promise you."
Silence fell then as neither spoke. Clarice could feel herself slipping back into sleep and tried to fight it, wanting to say so much but loosing the battle for words. There was so much she wanted to say to him, so many things she didn't get a chance to tell him in the ally. As her eyes closed she felt the warmth of his hand as it closed around her own, and the words that left her mouth where a breathy whisper.
" I love you"
Finally slipping into an exhausted sleep, she didn't see the smile that lit his features.
8.00pm
More soon…
A/n: Thanks to everyone who posted a review, your too kind. Special thanks to Sam and Savvik for there encouragement. Enjoy!!!!!!
5.00pm
Hannibal watched as she crumpled in front of him, only noticing now the echo of the shot fired ringing through the ally. Wasting no time by looking for the source he quickly ran to the walls shadows and scanned the surrounding area. It seemed almost a sub-conscience activity to him now, something he did without real thought, but no matter his whereabouts he always had a partial escape route formed in his mind. Looking down he could see Clarice was slowly slipping into unconsciousness, although her eyes where still partially open and looking to the sky above her, he could see the dazed and almost sleepy haze settling over them. Unfortunately he could not see the entrance wound, and had to surmise she had taken the bullet in her back. That would mean the shooter was somewhere to his right, if indeed there was only the one. It was simple good fortune that they hadn't stayed far from the wall in their admissions and confessions, and so she was within easy reach from his protected position. Listening intently, he dropped to his hunches, back pressed tightly to the wall and managed to grasp Clarice's wrist. Dragging her across the tarmac wasn't ideal if the entrance wound was situated on her back, but he couldn't take the risk of himself being targeted by leaving the wall to carry her. With her wrist in hand he quickly checked her pulse and was relieved to find it strong beneath his fingers, and with a grunt quickly pulled her to his side, a short whimper the only sound to leave her lips.
The shout that sounded out from the roof above came as no surprise to him, as he had heard the scuffle of boots only seconds before.
"F.B.I! We have the area surrounded!"
Ignoring the statement, he effortlessly lifted Clarice and held her tightly to his chest, the smell of blood almost overpowering. Keeping to the shadows he walked calmly south to the almost hidden wooden floor cellar, which he assumed led to the adjoining building. The shouts where coming louder and faster, spoken from he approximated at least thirteen different men. He could hear the helicopter in the distance and could smell the armed men as they closed in on their position. Without dropping Clarice he kicked the simple catch that held the rotted doors together, and was silently thankful when it shattered on contact. Time was limited now, and he lost none of it with dropping down to the wet, dark and rat-infested cellar. Gently depositing Clarice at his feet, he reached back and closed the doors. The F.B.I. may have been a group of simple-minded sheep, but he didn't feel the need to be cocky now he had precious cargo. With their only source of light cut off, he was for once glad that Chilton had kept him in complete darkness for endless weeks, the supposed torments giving him excellent night-vision. Picking up Clarice once more he was slightly alarmed when she didn't rouse, but didn't ponder for too long, knowing he would be hopeless to her if he wasted too much time in making their escape. Holding her close he made his way to the far door, avoiding the obstacle course, which littered their path. Opening it he could see it was a long room, slightly lit by the high windows that adorned the walls. The building had long ago been abandoned and by the look of the floor, had been the home to decades of squatters and homeless people. The putrid smell of human waste and urine was nauseating, and he quickly made his way to the far wall, drawing breath from the air that filtered through the smashed window. Pausing to evaluate their next move, he stained to look out the window and noticed they where now on the other side of the building. Not far way from his car. If he were going to do this, he would have to do it soon. What felt like hours had actually only been minutes he knew, but as incompetent as the F.B.I were, he knew they would soon be scouting the entire area.
Noticing the small set of concrete steps which were the exact replica of the ones they had entered from, he ran with Clarice held securely to him, smiling when looking up, he was looking at an identical set of wooden doors. Leaving Clarice leaning against the steps, he backtracked to the small window nearest to him and using an old crate which by the look of it, had once been a makeshift poker table, deftly climbed out the window, not even noticing the shard of glass cut into his arm. Keeping low, he let his eyes roam over the quiet street, watched the squad car race down the adjacent street towards their previous position, and the hum of the helicopter as it approached. They didn't have much time. Standing and walking briskly across the street, he disappeared from sight as he turned the corner.
6.00pm
The first thing she was aware of was the burning in her back. It felt as though someone was holding a lit match to her skin with no intention to remove it any time soon. She tried to move away from it, wriggling and whimpering, but a cool firm hand on the low of her back pressing down stopped her.
" This will all be over much sooner if you lie still Clarice. Please."
His voice was soft yet demanding, but none the less comforting. Feeling the needle as it slipped into her arm was the last thing she remembered.
7.00pm
Movement. Noise. Darkness. Silence.
Clarice could feel the world starting to slip back, and with it came the sharp pain in her back. Groaning involuntary as she tried to move, she once again felt a hand. Signing at the sudden coolness on her forehead, she relaxed into the comfortable material at her back, raising her own hand sluggishly to cover the one that held the cool cloth.
" Dr ?" she croaked, her throat dry.
Slowly blinking her eyes open, she had to fight the slight blur, raising her other hand to rub them. When her vision eventually cleared she could see him sitting at her side, one hand holding the cool cloth to her forehead, the other holding a small stainless steel dish with a syringe and small vials. Dragging her eyes up she met his own concerned gaze and offered him a strained smile.
" Diagnosis?"
He placed the small dish on the bedside cabinet and removed the cool cloth, smiling gently as he spoke.
" You were extremely lucky Clarice you suffered only a flesh wound. You have suffered some blood loss making you slightly anaemic, but nothing that a simple course of iron won't fix. You may feel some soreness around the entry point and surrounding area, there is some bruising around your ribs and…"
" What hit me?"
" A 7.62mm sniper round I believe, standard issue for F.B.I special opts. If it had been a few inches to the left there would be a hole in your stomach the size of my fist."
" Gee you have a great bedside manner there. Will I live?"
" I'm sorry to say that you may have only 50, perhaps sixty years left."
The small giggle that left her throat was soon regretted as a bolt of pain rushed through her system. Grimacing she closed her eyes, automatically seeking his hand. When she felt a small pinch in her right arm she quickly opened them and saw he was using the needle she had spotted earlier.
" Don't…"
" Pain killers, anti-inflammatory and something to kill any infection. Nothing more I assure you."
" I don't want to sleep. What if we were followed, what if.."
" Clarice calm yourself you are perfectly safe. The F.B.I will be following their own tails for days I promise you."
Silence fell then as neither spoke. Clarice could feel herself slipping back into sleep and tried to fight it, wanting to say so much but loosing the battle for words. There was so much she wanted to say to him, so many things she didn't get a chance to tell him in the ally. As her eyes closed she felt the warmth of his hand as it closed around her own, and the words that left her mouth where a breathy whisper.
" I love you"
Finally slipping into an exhausted sleep, she didn't see the smile that lit his features.
8.00pm
More soon…
