Disclaimer in part one.

five

If there was ever a time that Clarice needed a good jog to clear her head, it was now. But, since she was stuck in bed, all she could do was close her eyes and pretend. It wasn't enough. She could still hear Lecter downstairs. She wriggled her toes and winced as pain shot up her legs. At least her back didn't hurt anymore. Very slowly, she maneuvered into a sitting position and looked longingly at the window. The curtains flapped in the breeze. If she spent one second longer in this room, she would lose her mind.

"Dr. Lecter!" A beat. "Dr. Lecter!"

The door to the room swung open and he stepped inside. "Is something wrong?"

"I'd like to go outside. Please," she added in a quieter voice.

Lecter studied her quietly for a moment, then nodded. He disappeared, returning almost immediately with a wheelchair. Clarice wondered if it had been waiting in the hallway. She decided she didn't care; if Lecter wanted to help her get well, fine. She didn't owe him anything.

As he helped her into the chair, she bit her lip to stop the question that sat at the tip of her tongue. Dr. Lecter, do you love me?

He pushed the chair closer to the windows and unlocked the door leading to the balcony. Clarice smiled as the cool air danced across her skin. Lecter pushed her outside and set the brake.

"Thank you," she said.

"Only a pleasure."

She stared at the view; whatever she had been going to say, forgotten. The house overlooked a small lake, their closest neighbor on the other shore. All around the property, trees stretched upwards, trying to touch the sky. A bird soared high above them. She glanced once at Lecter and looked quickly away when she realized he was staring at her.

"Umm—"

"It's lovely here, this time of year."

She nodded. "Dr. Lecter—"

"Just a second." He withdrew inside and came back with a blanket. He wrapped it around Clarice's shoulders, then stepped back. "What kind of doctor would I be if I let you get sick?"

She smiled a little, still not entirely sure where she stood with him. "Thanks."

"You don't doubt that they're looking for you, do you?" To Clarice, it sounded more like a statement.

"Why wouldn't they be looking for me?"

*

"Of course we're still looking for her." Pearsall was in a hurry. A confrontation with Dwayne Ritter was the last thing he needed.

"What exactly are you doing to find her?"

Pearsall sighed. "We've got Lecter on the Ten Most Wanted list. We've notified all our field offices of the case. The airports and borders are on alert. We've checked out all the leads we had from the hospital and found nothing. Right now, there is no more we can do."

"You could find her."

"Mr. Ritter—"

"Pastor." Dwayne hated being patronized. This time he would insist on his title being used.

"Pastor Ritter, look. With all due respect, we've being trying to find Hannibal Lecter a lot longer than you have. Trust me when I say this: unless he wants Agent Starling found, we're not going to find her."

Dwayne was nearly desperate. He'd made a promise to Ardelia. "There must be something—"

"About the only thing left to do is pray. I suggest you do." With that, Pearsall hurried away and into the waiting elevator. He made a mental note to tell security not to let Dwayne back in the building.

*

Instead of answering Clarice's question, Lecter turned to look at the view once more. He took a deep breath of the fresh air and closed his eyes. Clarice pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

"Dr. Lecter—"

"You're an embarrassment to them, Clarice. Because you embody everything that they claim to stand for, but don't. Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

She remembered the compliment, even though it had been received through a morphine-induced haze. Remembered his words, remembered the question. Had the sacrifice been worth it? Remembered thinking, No.

"Tell me, Clarice, and don't lie. I'll know. Tell me, would you have gone back after they released you from hospital? Back to the Bureau. To the F. B. I." She shook her head, numbly, and he continued. "You know what they'd love? They'd love to find you with me, alive and well. They wouldn't care if I killed you, but to find you staying with me by choice . . . wouldn't they just eat that up?"

She was cold now, even with the blanket. It wasn't the weather, but Lecter's words that cut so deeply. "Is that why you took me? So that when you lead them here you can enjoy my pain?"

Lecter shook his head, amused. "That was Mason's mistake, you know. They thought that seeing you suffer would draw me out, and they were right. But I never intended to hurt you more. I couldn't."

"No one managed to profile you accurately, did they?" Clarice asked softly. "Not Graham, not Crawford—"

"Not even you, Clarice." He smiled. "Most people forget that even monsters are capable of love."

She forgot to breathe for a split-second, the exact amount of time that it took for his words to sink in. Even then, she was sure she'd misheard. He hadn't just said that he loved her, had he? Had he?

"Dr. Lecter—"

"It's getting cold, I should get you inside." He released the brake and wheeled the chair back into the room. Once he'd put Clarice back into bed, he locked the balcony door. "Get some rest, I'll bring up your dinner."

When Clarice was alone again, she closed her eyes and allowed her tears to fall silently down her cheeks. Ardelia was the one person she had always counted on for good advice, and she needed that advice now more than ever. When, she wondered, had she lost control of the situation? When Lecter had taken her? When the truck had totaled her car? Maybe when she had walked into Baltimore State Hospital and said, 'My name is Clarice Starling. May I talk with you?'

She heard footsteps and quickly brushed away the tears, determined that Lecter would not see her cry.

TBC