Disclaimer: The
characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling and Ardelia Mapp (as
well as anyone
you may recognize) belong to Thomas Harris, not to me. But they
are so great I couldn't resist borrowing them for a while. I will turn
them back when I've finished. No copyright
infringement intended. No profit. I'm harmless and broke ... So don't
sue me.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews of chapter 10. It has been the most difficult to write for me and I'm happy you liked it. Now, lets start exploring this relationship between our two favorite characters. Does not mean there might not be other twists in the future ...
Chapter 11
Clarice felt his body suddenly relax. She looked at him. His eyes were closed and his face was covered with sweat. She put her hand to his forehead. It was hot as hell. She saw Jason glance at them in the rear mirror.
" - How is he doing ?" he asked.
" - He's holding on. He's very weak and he's got fever. But the wound is not so bad. They cleaned it and it does not seem to be infected. We've got to remove this bullet from his thigh, though. As soon as possible.
- I'm going as fast as I can.
- I know, Jason. Don't worry, he'll be fine."
Clarice drew to her the metallic case Jason had filled with his father' s medical stuff. She opened it and started to search. She found some alcohol and cotton wool. Then, she had a look at the medicines. Under the various boxes, a little leather case caught her attention. She took it and opened it. Inside were carefully settled two syringes and two phials: morphine ... That could be useful.
She turned back to Hannibal and started cleaning his leg. Then she wrapped his thigh in a tight bandage and slowly loosened the tourniquet. It seemed all right. She brushed her hands on her jeans and had a look at her patient.
His eyes were wide open and he was staring at her. She had not realized he had waken up.
" - The bleeding has stopped." she said.
" - Good."
His voice was hoarse. He shivered. She took off her jacket and laid it on him.
" - Thank you, Clarice.
- Do you want one of these ?" she offered showing the little leather box.
" - No. Not now. We're gonna need them later."
He took a deep breath. Clarice got closer and took out her handkerchief. She softly swept the sweat from his face. He let her do in silence, his eyes locked to hers. This simple contact with the man she had been chasing all these years was weird. He seemed so vulnerable now, so human ... And yet the intensity of his look reminded her of who he was.
They remained silent for the rest of the trip.
The pain was harsh on him. He could have retired in the labyrinth of his memory palace to alleviate it, but that would have meant loosing the sight of her. And at this precise moment, all he wanted was to watch her. She looked exhausted, but he knew this had nothing to do with the physical efforts. He was aware of the inner fights she had had to overcome to sit in this van next to him. But these were nothing in comparison with the turmoil she was experiencing now.
He realized his staring at her was making her uneasy, so he broke the eye contact for a moment. There was nothing to be uncomfortable with, really. What Clarice had interpreted as morbid curiosity and irony from his part was only admiration. For her strength, for all she had surmounted with the only real weapon she had available, her courage ... for her beauty ...
He extended his arm and touched her hand with the tips of his fingers. He felt her tense up but she did not refuse the contact. Instead she took his hand in hers and pressed it. "We're almost there." she whispered, mistaking his gesture for a need of support. "We'll be there in ten minutes." Jason added from the driver's seat. Hannibal closed his eyes and focused on the sweet contact of her skin on his.
The car stopped brutally.
" - Here we are !" Jason announced. Clarice opened the back door.
" - OK. You two stay here and wait for me. I'm gonna check that everything is all right.
- Don't worry, agent Starling." Hannibal said, a strange smile on his face. "I won't run.
- Very funny !"
Clarice checked her gun and stepped out.
The building had visibly not been inhabited for years. It was a large mansion which had probably been considered as luxurious some time ago. But nature had taken back the ownership of the place now and the once white facade was invaded by ivy, the courtyard covered with weed. The french windows on the ground floor were all broken and the front door laid on the floor.
Clarice walked cautiously to the entrance. The only sounds she could hear were the squawking of the birds. She stepped in, her gun in her hand. The inside was as ruined as the outside. The furniture was still there but they had suffered from years of total abandon. The place had for sure been pillaged of anything valuable.
She started to explore the rooms one by one. On the ground floor first, then upstairs. The place was deserted. After ten minutes or so, she finally found two rooms on the first floor where the windows were still there. In the largest one was a fireplace. It had not been used for years and would need to be cleaned if they did not want to die suffocated, but at least they could keep Lecter warm.
The bed had no more mattress but the bedspring seemed in good conditions. She pulled down the heavy curtain the was still partly hanging by the window. That would make an acceptable blanket. It was certainly not the ultimate comfort, but that would do for a few days.
She went down and out.
When she arrived to the van, Jason had joined his father in the back and was holding his hand, soothing him gently. She stepped in and kneeled on the floor.
" - OK." she said. "The place is clear. Dr. Lecter, we're gonna take you upstairs, but we're gonna need your help.
- All right." Then looking at Jason he added: "Don't worry, I'll be fine.
- It's the last effort. Then you can rest. Jason ?
- I'm ready."
They helped him out of the van and on his feet. Jason and Clarice placed themselves on each of Hannibal' s side and he leaned on them. The first step drew a moan of pain from him but then he grit his jaws. They were progressing very slowly and it took them almost ten minutes to get to the room Clarice had prepared. They made him lay on the bed on his stomach.
Clarice sent Jason to get the medical stuff in the car. When he was out, she stared at Lecter. He was as pale as chalk. She sat on the bed next to him and put her hand on his back. "You're almost there." she said. He nodded but was not able to utter a single word.
Jason came back and laid the case at Clarice' s feet.
" - Jason, water and electricity have been cut off. And we're gonna need something to eat too. Can you drive to the closest village and see what you can get ?" The young man glanced at his father.
" - But ...
- Jason, I've got to extract this bullet. You can't help me know, but we're gonna need these things. He's gonna need them. soon it will be night and ...
- All right. I'll go.
- Good. We need water, and some lamps. See if you can find a portable stove and some canned food.
- OK.
- We're gonna try to make a fire too. We need something to clean that fireplace and an axe to cut some wood.
- Matches.
- Yes. And two sleeping bags for us and some blankets for him."
Jason left and a few seconds later she heard the sound of the engine.
Hannibal was lying on the bed, his eyes closed. She took the little case and filled one syringe with morphine. She made him the injection. He was trembling.
After a few minutes she felt his body relaxing and he opened his eyes.
" - Shall we ?" she asked.
" - I'm ready."
She took the instruments she would be needing and started undoing the bandage.
" - Have you ever done this before, Clarice ?
- Not on a living human being. I guess it's time to see if the instructions they gave me were correct.
- So I will be a sort of guinea pig, won't I ?
- You will have to trust me on this one, Dr. Lecter.
- I do."
Clarice was not so sure she could trust herself, but they did not have the choice. She had to hurry before the light decreased too much. Her movements were hesitant first, but then she acquired confidence.
The whole operation lasted a little less than one hour. She extracted the bullet without difficulty. The most complex and painful part was to settle the broken bone, but she managed that too. Then she put stitches to close the wound.
Hannibal lecter had remained conscious during the whole process, but now his strengths were leaving. She had helped him lay lying on his back, and he was alternating moments of wake and moments of sleep. He had a high fever and his whole body was agitated by shivers. Clarice was beginning to feel the cold and was longing for Jason to come back. She was tired, but was struggling not to doze.
It was dark when Jason returned. He roughly laid all he had bought in a corner of the room and went directly to his father.
" - How is he doing ?
- He's gonna be fine, Jason. He's still weak and it will take him time to recover, but he's gonna make it.
- ... Thank you, Clarice ... For everything ...
- It's OK. So, did you find everything ?
- Yes. I think so."
They both went to the bags he had brought and started to unpack the things. Clarice switched on one of the gas lamps and took a long sip of water. Then she opened her sleeping bag and wrapped it around her shoulders.
They were both exhausted and starving. Jason prepared some canned vegetables he had bought and they ate in silence. Once sated, they settled in their sleeping bags on the floor. They were too tired to suffer from the lack of comfort. But strangely, now that they could rest quietly for the first time in days, sleep did not come.
They started to talk, their voices being mere murmurs in the dark. They talked about themselves. It was awkward but there, in the night, not able to see the young man' s face or the way he looked at her, Clarice felt free to speak. They told each others memories of their childhood. Clarice had not confided like that in anybody for a very long time. It was almost dawn when they finally fell asleep.
Two days passed and the occupants of the old hotel settled in a sort of routine. Hannibal was oscillating between long sleeps and few moments of consciousness. Clarice tried to make him eat something but he took very little. The fever had decreased a bit, but he was still very weak.
Jason and she were taking turns at his bedside. They used the other bedroom to get some sleep and had managed to arrange a little bit the place and make it more livable.
Twice a day one of them was getting to the car to listen to the news on the radio. The police had been alerted by a farmer who had heard the gunfire. They had found two dead corpses in the farm courtyard. The case was making the local headlights for such events were rather rare in the area. But the news hardly passed the limits of the county. The bodies had not been identified yet.
Clarice knew they would manage identifying Menendez, but she doubted the local police would ever succeed in understanding what had really happened. The sheriff who was in charge had declared they were certain other people had been involved, but that they had no clue so far of their identities. Apparently, Willinger had disappeared.
Though he was most probably already in another state or even country, Clarice felt it was still too risky to move back to Lecter' s house.
Jason had called his mother to reassure her and tell her he would extend his holidays. On her side, Clarice had informed her office that she would not be back before Monday. Nobody seemed worried about her absence.
It was almost 2 am on Friday morning. Jason was sleeping in the other room. Clarice was sitting in an armchair they had found downstairs and repaired a bit. The night was silent.
She had thought much during these last two days. She had had time to. But yet, she had hardly come to a conclusion. She knew that the more she waited the more difficult it would be to turn him in or find a valid explanation. She also knew that if she had waited so long it was because a part of her had already decided to let him go. But there was always this other part of her, FBI agent Clarice M. Starling, law enforcement officer, committed to serve the law since she was seven years old ...
What could she do with this part of her ? How would she cope with her boss and her colleagues if she let Hannibal Lecter escape again ? But, much more important, how would she cope with her own look in the mirror every morning ?
Clarice stood up and left the room discreetly. She went downstairs and then out. The night was cold but she needed a little privacy. She took her cell phone and dialed the one number she knew she could always count on. The phone started to ring on the other side. When somebody finally took up, the voice sounded sleepy.
" - Mapp ...
- Ardelia, it's me. Sorry to wake you up but ...
- ... Clarice ? Is that you, girl ?
- Yes. Same old me.
- Hold on, Clarice. I've got to get out of here."
Clarice heard the sound of an object falling on the floor and then her friend swear. She could not help a smile. She should have known Ardelia was probably not alone ...
" - OK. Where are you ? What's happening ?
- Nothing. I'm fine. I just needed to talk to someone.
- In the middle of the night ?
- Sorry ... Bad idea. I'll call you tomorrow.
- Wait ! Hold on ! It's no problem. Now you got me up anyway and I won't be able to get back to sleep if you don't tell me what's on your mind.
- OK. But it was nothing in particular. You know ... just wanted to hear a friendly voice."
There was a moment of silence. Then Ardelia asked:
" - Is it going that bad in New York ?
- No. It's all right. People treat me like a human being here. Which is already a big step forward.
- I see what you mean. Oh, I met Swanson last week. He asked me about you."
Mike Swanson had been at the academy with them. He had left the FBI a few years before to open his own Private Investigation agency. Swanson had been one of the very few to write to her after the Chesapeake events.
" - Really ? How is he doing ?
- Fine, it seems. Married, two kids, good business ... He took at least twenty pounds.
- Umm ... Lack of exercise ...
- You bet ... Clarice ?
- Yes ?
- Are you having those nightmares again ?"
Her friend' s voice had turned very serious and concerned. The simple fact of someone worrying for her in this world cheered Clarice up a bit. She had never talked to Ardelia about the content of her nightmares. But having slept in the same room for months, there were some things her friend just could not ignore.
" - No. Well ... not really." Clarice found it difficult to lie to her. "Just once.
- Tonight ?
- No. A few days ago. It had been some time ...
- And what triggered it ?
- Nothing. The stress I guess. For the first time in months I've been given something like a real mission. I suppose I'm scared not to measure up.
- Don't play with me, kid.
- No, I swear. There was no particular reason ...
- And now you needed to talk to me, in the middle of the night. Clarice, what is it ?"
Clarice was not sure herself of why she had called Ardelia, or rather of what she could expect from that call. She had just felt the irresistible need to hear her voice, the voice of the one person who had never judged her. She knew she could not talk about Lecter.
" - Ardelia, can I ask you a question ?
- Of course.
- It's not an easy one, and you're not obliged to answer. But if you do, I need an honest answer, not a friendly one ...
- Shoot.
- ... Did I betray the FBI ?
- What ?
- All they taught us, back at Quantico ... the law, the order ... Do you think I betrayed that ?
- What are you talking about ? Clarice, you're one of the best agent the FBI has, if they would only accept to open their eyes ...
- I know that. I was good. But that's not what I'm asking you. Last year ... When I decided to go to Verger' s estate on my own ... When I disobeyed Pearsall' s orders to go to the rescue of Lecter, a wanted criminal, murderer of several ... Do you think that I betrayed the oath I took ?"
For a few seconds, the silence became deafening.
" - Why are you asking me this, Clarice ?
- Because I need to know. Ardelia, you're the only person I can count on to tell me the truth. I've been asking me this question for months and now I don't know anymore. I want to know your opinion ... Whatever the answer is ... Yes or no, it does not matter, but I need to know.
- Clarice, why did you do it ?
- What ?
- Why did you go there ? Why did you disobey to direct orders ?
- I ... I knew Verger had Lecter, and that he was going to kill him.
- Did you say that to Pearsall ?
- Yeah, I did. But he wouldn't have done anything.
- Why ? Why didn't he listen to you ?
- ... He did not care, Ardelia. Why should he have ? We're talking about Hannibal Lecter, not a common citizen.
- What about Mason Verger, Clarice ? If he had killed Lecter, what would that have been ?
- A ... murder."
Clarice was seeing where her friend was going to now. And an unbelievable feeling of relief overwhelmed her.
" - So," Ardelia went on, "as an FBI agent you had the intuition that a murder was going to be committed, and you decided to try to prevent it. Clarice, you know how I've always felt about Lecter, but in that particular story, you are the only one who has respected her oath.
- ... Thanks, Ardelia.
- No problem. I'm sincere.
- I know you are.
- ... You still don't want to tell me what's going on, do you ?
- I can't. The rest I have to sort it out by myself.
- All right. But let me know.
- I'll call you next week. I promise. Go back to sleep, now.
- OK. Good night."
Clarice took a deep breath and let the cold air penetrate her lungs. She had followed the rules. Not that she thought she hadn't before, but hearing someone else say it, even if it was her best friend, was like feeling a purifying shower on her skin.
She had done what they had taught her to do. And they had rejected her. Now she was going to act on what she believed was right and wrong. Clarice went back in and climbed up the stairs. She felt much better than she had in days.
She carefully opened the door but was alerted by some noises. She ran to the bed. Hannibal was sleeping but his head and his members were shaken by random movements. He started to mumble something but she could not understand what he was saying. It did not sound like English.
Clarice sat on the bed next to him and put her hand on his chests. She shook him gently. "Dr. Lecter ..." she first whispered. But as no sign came he had heard her she raised her voice. "Dr. Lecter, come on ... Wake up !" She had both her hands on his shoulders now and was shaking his body harder. "Dr. Lecter, you're having a nightmare. Wake up now !".
She was despaired to get a reaction from him when she suddenly felt two powerful grasps on her wrists. She had not even seen his hand move, but they were now holding her arms with such force that a cry of pain escaped her throat. The noise finished to wake him up. He was staring at her, eyes wide opened and what she saw in his eyes scared her to death.
It was pure fury, indescribable rage, as if fire was bursting out of his pupils. She realized this was the last image his victims had had before they died and suddenly all the certainties she had had one minute before vanished. For a moment, she had forgotten who he was. Now she could never forget that again.
It did not last more than a second and the rage was replaced by confusion. As soon as he recovered his senses, the pressure on her wrists disappeared instantaneously. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." he whispered. She put her hand on his chest and helped him back to the bed.
" - It's OK. You had a nightmare, but it's over now." Her voice was soothing.
" - Clarice ... I did not want to hurt you, I ...
- I know. You just woke up. You didn't know ... And you did not hurt me anyway."
His eyes went to her wrists where the marks of his fingers were contradicting her last words.
" - It's all right. Don't worry. I know what nightmares are, you know ...
- Yes ... I did not want to hurt you.
- I know."
Clarice was trying to hide the feeling of discomfort she had had just before, but she was almost certain he could see it anyway.
" - How do you feel ?" she asked.
" - Tired
- No kidding !" he smiled to her.
" - But better." he added.
She put her hand to his forehead.
" - Fever has dropped down." she confirmed. "How is pain ? We've got some pain-killing tablets there if you want.
- Not necessary. I'm fine. How long have I ... been sleeping ?
- A little more than two days.
- I see. Where is Jason ?
- Sleeping, in the other room. We've been taking turns.
- Oh ... I'm sorry to have been such a bother."
Then he gave her another smile. Clarice was still disturbed and did not know what to say. So she turned back to concrete things.
" - Are you hungry ?" she asked. "I can prepare you something. Not fine cooking of course, but something hot.
- No, thank you. But I would appreciate some water.
- Of course."
Clarice took a bottle of mineral water and helped him to drink. They remained silent for a while. Hannibal had closed his eyes and she was wondering if he had got back to sleep. The familiar sound of his voice almost startled her.
" - I think I forgot to thank you, Clarice.
- It's fine. Don't worry. Just tell me when you are hungry.
- I was not speaking about the water ...
- Oh ...
- I believe that once more I owe you my life."
Clarice did not answer. He stared at her but his eyes were full of tenderness now. The range of emotions this man could so easily express in his look was incredible. "Would you mind telling me what happened ?" he asked gently.
She started telling him. From her first encounter with Jason to the final gun battle at the farm. He let her talk, asking only a few questions. Always sticking on the facts, he never asked her anything personal. She started relaxing.
Hannibal fell asleep shortly after she finished her story. She stayed seated by his bed, watching him in the scarce light of the chimney fire, apparently calm, while the conflicts of her emotions were raging in her head.
To be continued ... Thanks for reading. Reviews are as usual MOST welcome ...
Absolut.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews of chapter 10. It has been the most difficult to write for me and I'm happy you liked it. Now, lets start exploring this relationship between our two favorite characters. Does not mean there might not be other twists in the future ...
Chapter 11
Clarice felt his body suddenly relax. She looked at him. His eyes were closed and his face was covered with sweat. She put her hand to his forehead. It was hot as hell. She saw Jason glance at them in the rear mirror.
" - How is he doing ?" he asked.
" - He's holding on. He's very weak and he's got fever. But the wound is not so bad. They cleaned it and it does not seem to be infected. We've got to remove this bullet from his thigh, though. As soon as possible.
- I'm going as fast as I can.
- I know, Jason. Don't worry, he'll be fine."
Clarice drew to her the metallic case Jason had filled with his father' s medical stuff. She opened it and started to search. She found some alcohol and cotton wool. Then, she had a look at the medicines. Under the various boxes, a little leather case caught her attention. She took it and opened it. Inside were carefully settled two syringes and two phials: morphine ... That could be useful.
She turned back to Hannibal and started cleaning his leg. Then she wrapped his thigh in a tight bandage and slowly loosened the tourniquet. It seemed all right. She brushed her hands on her jeans and had a look at her patient.
His eyes were wide open and he was staring at her. She had not realized he had waken up.
" - The bleeding has stopped." she said.
" - Good."
His voice was hoarse. He shivered. She took off her jacket and laid it on him.
" - Thank you, Clarice.
- Do you want one of these ?" she offered showing the little leather box.
" - No. Not now. We're gonna need them later."
He took a deep breath. Clarice got closer and took out her handkerchief. She softly swept the sweat from his face. He let her do in silence, his eyes locked to hers. This simple contact with the man she had been chasing all these years was weird. He seemed so vulnerable now, so human ... And yet the intensity of his look reminded her of who he was.
They remained silent for the rest of the trip.
The pain was harsh on him. He could have retired in the labyrinth of his memory palace to alleviate it, but that would have meant loosing the sight of her. And at this precise moment, all he wanted was to watch her. She looked exhausted, but he knew this had nothing to do with the physical efforts. He was aware of the inner fights she had had to overcome to sit in this van next to him. But these were nothing in comparison with the turmoil she was experiencing now.
He realized his staring at her was making her uneasy, so he broke the eye contact for a moment. There was nothing to be uncomfortable with, really. What Clarice had interpreted as morbid curiosity and irony from his part was only admiration. For her strength, for all she had surmounted with the only real weapon she had available, her courage ... for her beauty ...
He extended his arm and touched her hand with the tips of his fingers. He felt her tense up but she did not refuse the contact. Instead she took his hand in hers and pressed it. "We're almost there." she whispered, mistaking his gesture for a need of support. "We'll be there in ten minutes." Jason added from the driver's seat. Hannibal closed his eyes and focused on the sweet contact of her skin on his.
The car stopped brutally.
" - Here we are !" Jason announced. Clarice opened the back door.
" - OK. You two stay here and wait for me. I'm gonna check that everything is all right.
- Don't worry, agent Starling." Hannibal said, a strange smile on his face. "I won't run.
- Very funny !"
Clarice checked her gun and stepped out.
The building had visibly not been inhabited for years. It was a large mansion which had probably been considered as luxurious some time ago. But nature had taken back the ownership of the place now and the once white facade was invaded by ivy, the courtyard covered with weed. The french windows on the ground floor were all broken and the front door laid on the floor.
Clarice walked cautiously to the entrance. The only sounds she could hear were the squawking of the birds. She stepped in, her gun in her hand. The inside was as ruined as the outside. The furniture was still there but they had suffered from years of total abandon. The place had for sure been pillaged of anything valuable.
She started to explore the rooms one by one. On the ground floor first, then upstairs. The place was deserted. After ten minutes or so, she finally found two rooms on the first floor where the windows were still there. In the largest one was a fireplace. It had not been used for years and would need to be cleaned if they did not want to die suffocated, but at least they could keep Lecter warm.
The bed had no more mattress but the bedspring seemed in good conditions. She pulled down the heavy curtain the was still partly hanging by the window. That would make an acceptable blanket. It was certainly not the ultimate comfort, but that would do for a few days.
She went down and out.
When she arrived to the van, Jason had joined his father in the back and was holding his hand, soothing him gently. She stepped in and kneeled on the floor.
" - OK." she said. "The place is clear. Dr. Lecter, we're gonna take you upstairs, but we're gonna need your help.
- All right." Then looking at Jason he added: "Don't worry, I'll be fine.
- It's the last effort. Then you can rest. Jason ?
- I'm ready."
They helped him out of the van and on his feet. Jason and Clarice placed themselves on each of Hannibal' s side and he leaned on them. The first step drew a moan of pain from him but then he grit his jaws. They were progressing very slowly and it took them almost ten minutes to get to the room Clarice had prepared. They made him lay on the bed on his stomach.
Clarice sent Jason to get the medical stuff in the car. When he was out, she stared at Lecter. He was as pale as chalk. She sat on the bed next to him and put her hand on his back. "You're almost there." she said. He nodded but was not able to utter a single word.
Jason came back and laid the case at Clarice' s feet.
" - Jason, water and electricity have been cut off. And we're gonna need something to eat too. Can you drive to the closest village and see what you can get ?" The young man glanced at his father.
" - But ...
- Jason, I've got to extract this bullet. You can't help me know, but we're gonna need these things. He's gonna need them. soon it will be night and ...
- All right. I'll go.
- Good. We need water, and some lamps. See if you can find a portable stove and some canned food.
- OK.
- We're gonna try to make a fire too. We need something to clean that fireplace and an axe to cut some wood.
- Matches.
- Yes. And two sleeping bags for us and some blankets for him."
Jason left and a few seconds later she heard the sound of the engine.
Hannibal was lying on the bed, his eyes closed. She took the little case and filled one syringe with morphine. She made him the injection. He was trembling.
After a few minutes she felt his body relaxing and he opened his eyes.
" - Shall we ?" she asked.
" - I'm ready."
She took the instruments she would be needing and started undoing the bandage.
" - Have you ever done this before, Clarice ?
- Not on a living human being. I guess it's time to see if the instructions they gave me were correct.
- So I will be a sort of guinea pig, won't I ?
- You will have to trust me on this one, Dr. Lecter.
- I do."
Clarice was not so sure she could trust herself, but they did not have the choice. She had to hurry before the light decreased too much. Her movements were hesitant first, but then she acquired confidence.
The whole operation lasted a little less than one hour. She extracted the bullet without difficulty. The most complex and painful part was to settle the broken bone, but she managed that too. Then she put stitches to close the wound.
Hannibal lecter had remained conscious during the whole process, but now his strengths were leaving. She had helped him lay lying on his back, and he was alternating moments of wake and moments of sleep. He had a high fever and his whole body was agitated by shivers. Clarice was beginning to feel the cold and was longing for Jason to come back. She was tired, but was struggling not to doze.
It was dark when Jason returned. He roughly laid all he had bought in a corner of the room and went directly to his father.
" - How is he doing ?
- He's gonna be fine, Jason. He's still weak and it will take him time to recover, but he's gonna make it.
- ... Thank you, Clarice ... For everything ...
- It's OK. So, did you find everything ?
- Yes. I think so."
They both went to the bags he had brought and started to unpack the things. Clarice switched on one of the gas lamps and took a long sip of water. Then she opened her sleeping bag and wrapped it around her shoulders.
They were both exhausted and starving. Jason prepared some canned vegetables he had bought and they ate in silence. Once sated, they settled in their sleeping bags on the floor. They were too tired to suffer from the lack of comfort. But strangely, now that they could rest quietly for the first time in days, sleep did not come.
They started to talk, their voices being mere murmurs in the dark. They talked about themselves. It was awkward but there, in the night, not able to see the young man' s face or the way he looked at her, Clarice felt free to speak. They told each others memories of their childhood. Clarice had not confided like that in anybody for a very long time. It was almost dawn when they finally fell asleep.
Two days passed and the occupants of the old hotel settled in a sort of routine. Hannibal was oscillating between long sleeps and few moments of consciousness. Clarice tried to make him eat something but he took very little. The fever had decreased a bit, but he was still very weak.
Jason and she were taking turns at his bedside. They used the other bedroom to get some sleep and had managed to arrange a little bit the place and make it more livable.
Twice a day one of them was getting to the car to listen to the news on the radio. The police had been alerted by a farmer who had heard the gunfire. They had found two dead corpses in the farm courtyard. The case was making the local headlights for such events were rather rare in the area. But the news hardly passed the limits of the county. The bodies had not been identified yet.
Clarice knew they would manage identifying Menendez, but she doubted the local police would ever succeed in understanding what had really happened. The sheriff who was in charge had declared they were certain other people had been involved, but that they had no clue so far of their identities. Apparently, Willinger had disappeared.
Though he was most probably already in another state or even country, Clarice felt it was still too risky to move back to Lecter' s house.
Jason had called his mother to reassure her and tell her he would extend his holidays. On her side, Clarice had informed her office that she would not be back before Monday. Nobody seemed worried about her absence.
It was almost 2 am on Friday morning. Jason was sleeping in the other room. Clarice was sitting in an armchair they had found downstairs and repaired a bit. The night was silent.
She had thought much during these last two days. She had had time to. But yet, she had hardly come to a conclusion. She knew that the more she waited the more difficult it would be to turn him in or find a valid explanation. She also knew that if she had waited so long it was because a part of her had already decided to let him go. But there was always this other part of her, FBI agent Clarice M. Starling, law enforcement officer, committed to serve the law since she was seven years old ...
What could she do with this part of her ? How would she cope with her boss and her colleagues if she let Hannibal Lecter escape again ? But, much more important, how would she cope with her own look in the mirror every morning ?
Clarice stood up and left the room discreetly. She went downstairs and then out. The night was cold but she needed a little privacy. She took her cell phone and dialed the one number she knew she could always count on. The phone started to ring on the other side. When somebody finally took up, the voice sounded sleepy.
" - Mapp ...
- Ardelia, it's me. Sorry to wake you up but ...
- ... Clarice ? Is that you, girl ?
- Yes. Same old me.
- Hold on, Clarice. I've got to get out of here."
Clarice heard the sound of an object falling on the floor and then her friend swear. She could not help a smile. She should have known Ardelia was probably not alone ...
" - OK. Where are you ? What's happening ?
- Nothing. I'm fine. I just needed to talk to someone.
- In the middle of the night ?
- Sorry ... Bad idea. I'll call you tomorrow.
- Wait ! Hold on ! It's no problem. Now you got me up anyway and I won't be able to get back to sleep if you don't tell me what's on your mind.
- OK. But it was nothing in particular. You know ... just wanted to hear a friendly voice."
There was a moment of silence. Then Ardelia asked:
" - Is it going that bad in New York ?
- No. It's all right. People treat me like a human being here. Which is already a big step forward.
- I see what you mean. Oh, I met Swanson last week. He asked me about you."
Mike Swanson had been at the academy with them. He had left the FBI a few years before to open his own Private Investigation agency. Swanson had been one of the very few to write to her after the Chesapeake events.
" - Really ? How is he doing ?
- Fine, it seems. Married, two kids, good business ... He took at least twenty pounds.
- Umm ... Lack of exercise ...
- You bet ... Clarice ?
- Yes ?
- Are you having those nightmares again ?"
Her friend' s voice had turned very serious and concerned. The simple fact of someone worrying for her in this world cheered Clarice up a bit. She had never talked to Ardelia about the content of her nightmares. But having slept in the same room for months, there were some things her friend just could not ignore.
" - No. Well ... not really." Clarice found it difficult to lie to her. "Just once.
- Tonight ?
- No. A few days ago. It had been some time ...
- And what triggered it ?
- Nothing. The stress I guess. For the first time in months I've been given something like a real mission. I suppose I'm scared not to measure up.
- Don't play with me, kid.
- No, I swear. There was no particular reason ...
- And now you needed to talk to me, in the middle of the night. Clarice, what is it ?"
Clarice was not sure herself of why she had called Ardelia, or rather of what she could expect from that call. She had just felt the irresistible need to hear her voice, the voice of the one person who had never judged her. She knew she could not talk about Lecter.
" - Ardelia, can I ask you a question ?
- Of course.
- It's not an easy one, and you're not obliged to answer. But if you do, I need an honest answer, not a friendly one ...
- Shoot.
- ... Did I betray the FBI ?
- What ?
- All they taught us, back at Quantico ... the law, the order ... Do you think I betrayed that ?
- What are you talking about ? Clarice, you're one of the best agent the FBI has, if they would only accept to open their eyes ...
- I know that. I was good. But that's not what I'm asking you. Last year ... When I decided to go to Verger' s estate on my own ... When I disobeyed Pearsall' s orders to go to the rescue of Lecter, a wanted criminal, murderer of several ... Do you think that I betrayed the oath I took ?"
For a few seconds, the silence became deafening.
" - Why are you asking me this, Clarice ?
- Because I need to know. Ardelia, you're the only person I can count on to tell me the truth. I've been asking me this question for months and now I don't know anymore. I want to know your opinion ... Whatever the answer is ... Yes or no, it does not matter, but I need to know.
- Clarice, why did you do it ?
- What ?
- Why did you go there ? Why did you disobey to direct orders ?
- I ... I knew Verger had Lecter, and that he was going to kill him.
- Did you say that to Pearsall ?
- Yeah, I did. But he wouldn't have done anything.
- Why ? Why didn't he listen to you ?
- ... He did not care, Ardelia. Why should he have ? We're talking about Hannibal Lecter, not a common citizen.
- What about Mason Verger, Clarice ? If he had killed Lecter, what would that have been ?
- A ... murder."
Clarice was seeing where her friend was going to now. And an unbelievable feeling of relief overwhelmed her.
" - So," Ardelia went on, "as an FBI agent you had the intuition that a murder was going to be committed, and you decided to try to prevent it. Clarice, you know how I've always felt about Lecter, but in that particular story, you are the only one who has respected her oath.
- ... Thanks, Ardelia.
- No problem. I'm sincere.
- I know you are.
- ... You still don't want to tell me what's going on, do you ?
- I can't. The rest I have to sort it out by myself.
- All right. But let me know.
- I'll call you next week. I promise. Go back to sleep, now.
- OK. Good night."
Clarice took a deep breath and let the cold air penetrate her lungs. She had followed the rules. Not that she thought she hadn't before, but hearing someone else say it, even if it was her best friend, was like feeling a purifying shower on her skin.
She had done what they had taught her to do. And they had rejected her. Now she was going to act on what she believed was right and wrong. Clarice went back in and climbed up the stairs. She felt much better than she had in days.
She carefully opened the door but was alerted by some noises. She ran to the bed. Hannibal was sleeping but his head and his members were shaken by random movements. He started to mumble something but she could not understand what he was saying. It did not sound like English.
Clarice sat on the bed next to him and put her hand on his chests. She shook him gently. "Dr. Lecter ..." she first whispered. But as no sign came he had heard her she raised her voice. "Dr. Lecter, come on ... Wake up !" She had both her hands on his shoulders now and was shaking his body harder. "Dr. Lecter, you're having a nightmare. Wake up now !".
She was despaired to get a reaction from him when she suddenly felt two powerful grasps on her wrists. She had not even seen his hand move, but they were now holding her arms with such force that a cry of pain escaped her throat. The noise finished to wake him up. He was staring at her, eyes wide opened and what she saw in his eyes scared her to death.
It was pure fury, indescribable rage, as if fire was bursting out of his pupils. She realized this was the last image his victims had had before they died and suddenly all the certainties she had had one minute before vanished. For a moment, she had forgotten who he was. Now she could never forget that again.
It did not last more than a second and the rage was replaced by confusion. As soon as he recovered his senses, the pressure on her wrists disappeared instantaneously. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." he whispered. She put her hand on his chest and helped him back to the bed.
" - It's OK. You had a nightmare, but it's over now." Her voice was soothing.
" - Clarice ... I did not want to hurt you, I ...
- I know. You just woke up. You didn't know ... And you did not hurt me anyway."
His eyes went to her wrists where the marks of his fingers were contradicting her last words.
" - It's all right. Don't worry. I know what nightmares are, you know ...
- Yes ... I did not want to hurt you.
- I know."
Clarice was trying to hide the feeling of discomfort she had had just before, but she was almost certain he could see it anyway.
" - How do you feel ?" she asked.
" - Tired
- No kidding !" he smiled to her.
" - But better." he added.
She put her hand to his forehead.
" - Fever has dropped down." she confirmed. "How is pain ? We've got some pain-killing tablets there if you want.
- Not necessary. I'm fine. How long have I ... been sleeping ?
- A little more than two days.
- I see. Where is Jason ?
- Sleeping, in the other room. We've been taking turns.
- Oh ... I'm sorry to have been such a bother."
Then he gave her another smile. Clarice was still disturbed and did not know what to say. So she turned back to concrete things.
" - Are you hungry ?" she asked. "I can prepare you something. Not fine cooking of course, but something hot.
- No, thank you. But I would appreciate some water.
- Of course."
Clarice took a bottle of mineral water and helped him to drink. They remained silent for a while. Hannibal had closed his eyes and she was wondering if he had got back to sleep. The familiar sound of his voice almost startled her.
" - I think I forgot to thank you, Clarice.
- It's fine. Don't worry. Just tell me when you are hungry.
- I was not speaking about the water ...
- Oh ...
- I believe that once more I owe you my life."
Clarice did not answer. He stared at her but his eyes were full of tenderness now. The range of emotions this man could so easily express in his look was incredible. "Would you mind telling me what happened ?" he asked gently.
She started telling him. From her first encounter with Jason to the final gun battle at the farm. He let her talk, asking only a few questions. Always sticking on the facts, he never asked her anything personal. She started relaxing.
Hannibal fell asleep shortly after she finished her story. She stayed seated by his bed, watching him in the scarce light of the chimney fire, apparently calm, while the conflicts of her emotions were raging in her head.
To be continued ... Thanks for reading. Reviews are as usual MOST welcome ...
Absolut.