Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sorry to disappoint you and all, but I'm not
Thomas Harris or any movie person or anything.
A/N: Not much to say. Sorry I haven't updating in a while. Been working on other stuff. Thanks to SlowChemical77 for help with ideas and stuff. I'm kind of depressed, so this might be pretty dark. Or it might not and be exactly what I need to cheer me up. Whatever the case, here it is.
Also, I apologize for this being so short, but I do have reasons. A, I just can't write anymore right now. B, it's an evil cliff-hanger. You have been warned
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Clarice woke up somewhere around midnight hacking herself to death, or that's how it felt. Her chest was on fire and her throat was like raw sandpaper. Eventually she stopped, holding her chest hoping she wasn't going to just die now. Not feeling very tired, she propped herself up against her bed. All she could think about was Hannibal and what had juts happened. He had tried to open up to her and had pushed him away. What was wrong with her? At the moment, however, her thoughts wandered to her health. She was feeling worse by the second, having just about every symptom she could think of. Pounding headache, aching stomach, nausea. Speaking of nausea, Clarice started gagging. Running out of bed, she barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up the sandwich that Hannibal had gotten her earlier. Not sure she had the strength to walk back to her room at the moment, she flushed the toilet and leaned against it, resting. A couple of minutes later, Hannibal appeared in the door.
"Clarice? Are you ok?" he asked, worriedly. He was by her side in an instant, feeling her forehead and her pulse.
"No," Clarice replied, rolling her eyes.
"Let me help you," Hannibal said, standing up.
"I'd rather stay here, thank you," Clarice said icily.
"I'm not letting you. I'll carry you if you really won't let me," Hannibal replied, exasperated.
Clarice stared at him. "Don't you dare."
Hannibal sighed and scooped her up in his arms much like he did after she was shot in Mason's barn, except this time she was awake and not happy about it.
"Put me down!" Clarice screamed as loud as she could, which wasn't very loud. The trip from her bathroom to her bedroom shouldn'tv'e been that long but it was because Hannibal had to readjust his grip on Clarice twice because she was squirming so much. Eventually they got to her room and Hannibal set her down on her bed. He pulled the sheets over her. "I hate you," Clarice said.
Hannibal merely sighed. "Being sick sure does bring out your more juvenile side, doesn't it?"
"Just leave me alone, would you? Maybe even leave my house and never come back?" Clarice spat, rolling over again so she wasn't facing Hannibal.
"I'm afraid I cannot. My car's snowed in," Hannibal replied. "But with the way you've been acting, I would if I could."
"Well maybe you shouldn't break my heart," Clarice said quietly.
"I'm sorry," Hannibal whispered back. He started giving Clarice a back massage, the covers separating his hands from the back of her pyjamas. "I never meant to hurt you."
"Sure you didn't," Clarice snorted. "If you don't want to hurt my feelings more, maybe you could tell me why you've been so distant."
Hannibal sighed again. "Like I said, we can't be together. I want you so much, Clarice. One might say I even need you. But we can't be together. That's what's wrong. I don't want to let you go again. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to let you down like I did with Mischa," Hannibal said, his voice getting quieter and sadder as he went on.
"If you really wanted me, then you wouldn't care if we got caught or not. It's better to have loved and lost to have never loved at all," Clarice replied, an edge still to her voice.
"I don't want you to get hurt. One of the most important things in your life is your job. Asking you to come with me would be asking you to give it up. I can't do that," Hannibal said.
"Why don't you try it sometime, eh? You might be surprised at what I'd do for you. Even if we did get caught, any amount of time we'd spend together, just the two of us in some foreign country would make my happy enough for my entire life. Besides, I was probably going to quit anyways. It's far to infuriating. Everything I do they jump on me for, even if it was exactly what they said to do, or if others ignore my, like in the fish market," Clarice said sadly.
Hannibal sighed yet again and got up. "We can talk about this later when you're feeling better."
"I've never known you to run away from your problems," Clarice called to him.
Hannibal slammed the door shut behind him.
A/N: Not much to say. Sorry I haven't updating in a while. Been working on other stuff. Thanks to SlowChemical77 for help with ideas and stuff. I'm kind of depressed, so this might be pretty dark. Or it might not and be exactly what I need to cheer me up. Whatever the case, here it is.
Also, I apologize for this being so short, but I do have reasons. A, I just can't write anymore right now. B, it's an evil cliff-hanger. You have been warned
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Clarice woke up somewhere around midnight hacking herself to death, or that's how it felt. Her chest was on fire and her throat was like raw sandpaper. Eventually she stopped, holding her chest hoping she wasn't going to just die now. Not feeling very tired, she propped herself up against her bed. All she could think about was Hannibal and what had juts happened. He had tried to open up to her and had pushed him away. What was wrong with her? At the moment, however, her thoughts wandered to her health. She was feeling worse by the second, having just about every symptom she could think of. Pounding headache, aching stomach, nausea. Speaking of nausea, Clarice started gagging. Running out of bed, she barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up the sandwich that Hannibal had gotten her earlier. Not sure she had the strength to walk back to her room at the moment, she flushed the toilet and leaned against it, resting. A couple of minutes later, Hannibal appeared in the door.
"Clarice? Are you ok?" he asked, worriedly. He was by her side in an instant, feeling her forehead and her pulse.
"No," Clarice replied, rolling her eyes.
"Let me help you," Hannibal said, standing up.
"I'd rather stay here, thank you," Clarice said icily.
"I'm not letting you. I'll carry you if you really won't let me," Hannibal replied, exasperated.
Clarice stared at him. "Don't you dare."
Hannibal sighed and scooped her up in his arms much like he did after she was shot in Mason's barn, except this time she was awake and not happy about it.
"Put me down!" Clarice screamed as loud as she could, which wasn't very loud. The trip from her bathroom to her bedroom shouldn'tv'e been that long but it was because Hannibal had to readjust his grip on Clarice twice because she was squirming so much. Eventually they got to her room and Hannibal set her down on her bed. He pulled the sheets over her. "I hate you," Clarice said.
Hannibal merely sighed. "Being sick sure does bring out your more juvenile side, doesn't it?"
"Just leave me alone, would you? Maybe even leave my house and never come back?" Clarice spat, rolling over again so she wasn't facing Hannibal.
"I'm afraid I cannot. My car's snowed in," Hannibal replied. "But with the way you've been acting, I would if I could."
"Well maybe you shouldn't break my heart," Clarice said quietly.
"I'm sorry," Hannibal whispered back. He started giving Clarice a back massage, the covers separating his hands from the back of her pyjamas. "I never meant to hurt you."
"Sure you didn't," Clarice snorted. "If you don't want to hurt my feelings more, maybe you could tell me why you've been so distant."
Hannibal sighed again. "Like I said, we can't be together. I want you so much, Clarice. One might say I even need you. But we can't be together. That's what's wrong. I don't want to let you go again. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to let you down like I did with Mischa," Hannibal said, his voice getting quieter and sadder as he went on.
"If you really wanted me, then you wouldn't care if we got caught or not. It's better to have loved and lost to have never loved at all," Clarice replied, an edge still to her voice.
"I don't want you to get hurt. One of the most important things in your life is your job. Asking you to come with me would be asking you to give it up. I can't do that," Hannibal said.
"Why don't you try it sometime, eh? You might be surprised at what I'd do for you. Even if we did get caught, any amount of time we'd spend together, just the two of us in some foreign country would make my happy enough for my entire life. Besides, I was probably going to quit anyways. It's far to infuriating. Everything I do they jump on me for, even if it was exactly what they said to do, or if others ignore my, like in the fish market," Clarice said sadly.
Hannibal sighed yet again and got up. "We can talk about this later when you're feeling better."
"I've never known you to run away from your problems," Clarice called to him.
Hannibal slammed the door shut behind him.