Thanks for the reviews, yes I am evil with the cliff hangers lol. English class will do that to you. I should be writing a lot more now. Because of a car accident I myself got into in March I have been forced out of sports (which is something I hold dear) for my last year in high school, so I should be spending a LOT of time writing if not in this story then in a few others I have that are non-fanfics. Like always I thank you for your reviews, they put a smile on my face every time.
The comforting came to her as a pleasant surprise, for she never really thought that Hannibal would actually be in her home. She was not complaining in the least, she had missed him more than she thought she ever would when she had taken her first walk in the dungeon to see him all those many years ago. Had she really known him for almost a decade? To Clarice it seemed to be a short time ago for meeting him, yet an eternity for finding and apprehending the infamous Buffalo Bill.
The time ticked slowly on by and she felt all the seconds in her body, but not in her mind. She knew she should be mourning her closest female friend, but half of her was celebrating the reunion of her closest male friend. "If you would even call him that," she thought to herself.
Hannibal sat there, coaxing her by rubbing her back in a comforting gesture and whispering nonsense in her ear. Had he known the news she had gotten from the phone, he probably would have known exactly what to do had she been one of his patience, but since it was Clarice he knew in the back of his mind that she was different than any of his patience, and once he thought he had her down to a't' she would do something to make him think twice about his assumption.
Finally after 10 minutes of crying, Clarice lifted her head in order to show recognition to Hannibal. She stared at him with tears still flowing from her eyes and gave him a weak smile. "Dr. Lecter." She said in a tired and emotionally exhausted voice trying to put up a strong front but giving up as soon as she saw care and love reflecting from her eyes to his. She knew she didn't have to tell him something was wrong, so she just went ahead and started telling him the news she had just received on the phone.
"That was Davis on the phone, he called to tell me that Delia…" she paused and looked away from him to regain control. Hannibal took his hand and directed her face back to looking at his and to where her eyes were looking straight into his. "Delia was killed tonight. She was going out somewhere and lost control of her car in the rain. They said she died on impact so I know she didn't suffer."
There was no response from Hannibal verbally, but he did show emotion by wrapping his arms around her and because of that she began to cry yet again.
Both of them must have fallen asleep from exhaustion from one extreme or the next, because when Clarice awoke the next morning she noted that it was still raining, as she could still hear it, and she, for the first time in a long time, felt safe as she absorbed the feeling of being held. Even if the person that was holding her was a convicted murderer and one of the FBI's most wanted people, he had never showed hostility towards her so intern she will never show any hostility towards him.
Yet on the other end of the bed Hannibal had been awake for a few moments longer. He laid there in awe that even with the physical and emotional attachment that he taught himself when his sister died, his body still acted on instinct from time to time, and this time he did not mind in the least. In fact he was complementing his body for having such exquisite taste. He knew that now that he had allowed himself this simple pleasure that he could no longer give himself a false assumption that he could be with anyone else but her.