III. Agrodolce.

John Hopkins Hospital - Baltimore, Maryland.

Will Graham arrived with a large bouquet of flowers to room 304. He stood static on the threshold of the door and looked at the unconscious Marlène Gardner. The young woman, with long coppery hair, was still in critical condition; the doctors feared she would not survive the second surgery but she was recovering, at a slow pace but she was on the right track. Will swallowed hard and his feet responded to his desires entering the room, without taking his eyes off her.

"H-hello," he said nervously. "I am your neighbor, Will Graham. I brought flowers, to cheer you up," he said as he extended the bouquet and a silly smile covered his face.

There was no answer. Will faded his smile, hit his forehead at the stupidity he had done and looked for a vase to accommodate the flowers. Once the floral mission was completed, Will have a seat in a small armchair, looked at Marlène with deep anguish and, as he watched her, a memory of the beginning of the year came to his mind, just in spring:

In the vicinity with Baltimore there is a small department store where Will always came for his basic pantry. The young Graham was hesitant to bring a few cans of tuna or prepare a decent meal, and meanwhile his discuss with himself, Will opted for tuna, increasing the bags of dog food and set out to leave the premises. He was lining up the only box available and, in front of him, was a young woman with a long, familiar wavy copper hair. Will had no hesitation in examining her and then he paid attention to the things she carried; if he compared his cart, Will looked like a complete stingy since she carried a full pantry. The cashier soon dispatched her and the boy who packed the supplies finished. She left the place and young Graham watched her leave.

Will was driving home and while listening to the radio, at the only station that reached the Wolf Trap area, he heard the latest news regarding the kidnapping and murder of a teenager named Reneé Winn, the fourth victim of the "The Minnesota Shrike."

A terrible sigh came up as the question arrived to his mind: why hadn't they looked him for that case? And as his mind navigated that issue, he could see a vehicle stopped at the side of the road. He slowed down and looked at that anguished woman with coppery hair watching the engine of her vehicle. Will kept moving forward but remorse made him look up at the rearview mirror and observed again. He sighed bitterly, stopped the car and turned back. She witnessed that sound, turned strangely and watched as the car stopped beside her; the young man lowered the glass of the passenger door and looked at her.

"Need help?" He asked with a forced, and somewhat honest, smile. She responded the same way. "Yes please."

"Let me park me." Will put his car behind, got off and she leaned out to watch him. "What is happening?" He asked as he approached. "It's the engine, it's making a weird noise," she responded, while he stopped beside her. They kept silent and listened to the machine. "Yes, there is something affecting it. Let me examine it."

"Sure," she released as she stepped aside.

Will smiled nervously and went over to check. The sound that emerged was somewhat curious for him but he had a slight idea of what might be due. She almost marveled, kept looking at Will for how attentive he was in his help.

"Do you know about engines?" She asked, curious about the approach he showed. Will looked up at her. "Yes, fixing engines is my hobby."

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "And what do you do for live?"

"I'm a teacher," he replied as he looked back at the engine.

"Really?" She asked surprised. Will nodded. "Me too ... Well, I was. Where do you teach?"

"At the FBI academy," he said like nothing. The woman was surprised and at that Will decided to continue: "And you, where were you giving classes?"

"M-me," she replied nervously, "I was a preschool teacher in Baltimore."

"And why did you leave it?" He asked as he stood up and looked at her again. "For my daughter." They both looked at each other and Will noticed how her cheeks were adorned in a slight reddish tone. "You know?" He continued, "I didn't tell you my name."

"Neither I," she said with a nervous smile. She reached over and extended her arm. "Marlène Gardner."

"Will Graham," he replied and took her hand to greet her. "I think we're neighbors, right?"

"That's correct ... I've seen you in the mini-supermarket."

"Me too. Nice to meet you, neighbor."

"Same here, neighbor." The two smiled with nerves and let go of their hands. Will looked around while Marlène tried to control herself. "I need my toolbox," Will spoke, "I have it in my trunk, let me go for it."

"Sure! Do whatever you have to do."

Several minutes later Will found the engine failure, it was a breakdown by the oil change; he suggested taking it to a mechanic, since the arrangement he made would not last long. Marlène smiled and her cheeks were painted in red.

"Thank you, Will. Any way I can pay you?"

"N-no, no," he stammered. "Please! I wouldn't feel good if ..."

"Really, that's fine."

"With something, Will ..." she insisted. Will looked at her. Marlène showed a pleading face, too tender for him to bear. Will felt a bit of discomfort but at the same time he liked it, and he didn't know why. "Well, would be a dinner be a good payment?" He asked, remembering his purchases of tuna cans.

"A dinner?" She wondered.

"Bad idea?"

"No, no, it's all right," she said with a smile. "What do you like?"

"Surprise me."

"I have several ideas in mind. Any special day for dinner?

"Any day you can do it." She smiled again. "Your house or mine?"

"Wherever, for me there is no a problem."

"Oh well! Will you have pets, right?" She foolishly released. "Yes, some dogs. Why?"

"Well, when I pass by your house, my daughter always observe your dogs. She likes dogs."

"Then one of these days, in my house. You, your daughter and me."

Marlène smiled and Will accompanied her. The two felt flutters in their stomachs, but neither of them thought that dinner would never happen.

Hannibal Lecter's Residence - Baltimore, Maryland.

"What is this?" Asked Abigail curiously. "A book," Hannibal replied, hiding the obviousness. "Yes, I know. But what for?"

"Read the title."

"Communication through silence," she obeyed. "Is it to learn to talk to Elisa?" Hannibal smiled as he sought to take a seat in the main chair of his dining room. The girl was sitting in front of Abigail and was drawing. "You are very observant." She smiled sarcastically. "So you learned sign language with this?"

"Partly. This will help you to a basic understanding with Elisa."

"Oh let's see!" She exclaimed excitedly. Abigail tapped the table, and thanks to the vibration, the girl raised her head. "Look at me!" She mentioned. Elisa dropped her crayons and paid attention. Abigail opened the book and began to read the first pages. "Well ... let's start with: Hello." The young woman raised one of her hands and, with a gentle movement, represented a hello. Elisa was surprised, smiled and responded to the greeting. "Well, this looks easy," she said animatedly. Hannibal kept up with his smile. "From what I see, both will be very entertaining this afternoon."

"Won't you help me?"

"Learn the basics and then I'll show you the rest."

"Okay." Abigail looked back at the book and read the following pages: "Elisa," she began as she moved his hands, "I am Abigail. Nice to meet you."

"Hi Abigail," she replied.

Hannibal got up from his chair and left the room.

Alana Bloom entered room 304, saw Will sitting on the armchair and losing him in his memories. She approached and the young man reacted to the sound, somewhat thunderous, of her high-heels.

"Hi."

"Hello Alana ..." he replied somewhat exhausted. "How did you know ...?"

"Jack told me."

"I see!" He exclaimed wryly. "Will, Jack told me how you feel about this."

"Alana, please," he pleaded. "I know you don't want to comment this, but I don't want you to feel a responsibility like with Abigail Hobbs."

"It's not responsibility," he said as he ran his hands over his face. "Yes it is, and I don't want you to feel that way."

"Like what?"

"Bad," she said worriedly. "I have not felt bad, neither with Abigail nor with Marlène."

"Will ..."

"Alana," he said seriously. She looked surprised. "Please."

She sighed bitterly and sought to sit beside him. He settled down so they could fit in the armchair and looked at her.

"Okay, don't tell me anything," she said calmly. "But I want one thing to be clear, Will."

"What thing?"

"I want you to know that you have saved three lives. Abigail, Marlène and Elisa. That's what matters." Will grinned. "Why that face?"

"I think I may have saved all three before and without any worse incidents involved."

"Hey!" Alana exclaimed as she took him by the chin and forced him to look him in the eye. The young Graham was static for a few moments. "Will, you are a good person, you have helped before and you have managed to prevent worse things from happening."

"A clear example was killing Garret Jacob-Hobbs."

"Will," she said annoyed, "I don't want you to feel that you did something terrible."

"That doesn't change anything," he replied, subtly pulling his face away from hers.

Alana couldn't avoid a bitter sigh, closed her eyes and wished that Will understood the good side of his actions, but for now, it would be difficult. He had been pushed very far over his actions.

"Where is Elisa?" He asked, trying to avoid the theme. "With Hannibal."

"With Hannibal?" He said strangely. Alana nodded. "Hannibal has a temporary tutoring on Elisa. I thought you already knew."

"No ... How did he get it?"

"Jack granted it. He did it because he knows how to handle sign language."

"And Elisa went with him, so easily?"

"The girl has some confidence with him, which is because he understands her way of speaking."

"Ah ..."

"Tomorrow I'll start formal therapy with her," Alana said as she turned to see him. "And are you ready?"

"Hannibal will support me. The sessions will be in his office, he will be my translator…" she said with a smile.

"I hope you can help her."

"It will be a long process, but I hope she will move forward."

Alana and Will smiled at each other, and let the visiting time go by waiting for the miracle in which Marlène Gardner could wake up.

Hannibal Lecter's office - Baltimore, Maryland.

Elisa looked at the place with great astonishment, that place was bigger than the living room and the kitchen of her house together. There were too many bookshelves adorning each wall and, obviously, they were full of books. There was a second floor and the girl could notice how more bookshelves lay but not everyone was full, it seemed that they were barely accommodating them. Elisa looked back and a decorative figure caught her attention. Feeling curious, she turned to where Alana Bloom and Hannibal Lecter were. Both doctors were sitting and talking; she noticed it by the movement on their lips, and taking advantage of the distraction she approached that figure and contemplated it. It was the figure of a deer with huge antlers, it detonated leadership, dominance, danger; and a curiosity in the little one. While admiring it, she felt a hands on her shoulders, frightened she turned and saw Dr. Bloom with a warm smile on her face.

"Come with me, honey," she read through her lips.

Elisa did not resist and allowed herself to be guided to the huge armchair, where they were both talking. Both sat down and could see how Hannibal approached a chair to face them.

"Elisa," Hannibal included. She paid attention. "Dr. Bloom and I want to talk with you." The girl nodded while Alana placed one of her arms around her shoulders. "Ask her about her parents," she demanded.

Hannibal obeyed and began to move his hands. Elisa frowned and a discomfort was revealed. The little girl slowly raised her hands and responded to what he had said. Alana looked at the moment analytically.

"What did she say?"

"She only asked me about her mother. She is ignoring her father."

"Tell her that her mother will be with her soon. Let us, for a moment, go to his father." He again performed the act. Elisa replied looking anxious, Hannibal responded. "What did she say?"

"She wants to see her mother. I told her that she will be with her soon." Alana sighed and snuggled Elisa closer to her body, seeking to show her support and security.

"You told me about some drawings," she continued. Hannibal affirmed. "Elisa is blocking her memories and one way to capture them is with her drawings, let's try to talk about them."

Hannibal got up from his place and went to his desk, looked in a folder he had created for the girl and took out a few papers. He returned to them and handed the drawings to Alana.

"She did them yesterday," he said as he returned to his seat. The girl looked at her creations. "Abigail noticed the peculiarity in them and let me know."

Alana looked at the first drawing: It was a huge house painted with red and white, probably a barn; there were pigs and apparently lambs. There were two people and a little girl, who was definitely her and an adult, probably her father.

The next drawing was the same barn, this time, the animals lay dead especially the lambs. The little girl in the drawings shed tears.

The third drawing was two adults, one dressed in white and one in black. Behind them the pigs were hanging, in their eyes were huge X and seemed to be supported by hooks.

Alana swallowed hard but did not show her surprise.

"I don't think they're just peculiar, Hannibal," she said seriously, looking up at him. "I know, Alana. I'm afraid that, beyond post-traumatic stress, we face a picture of extreme violence," Elisa kept looking at her drawings and Alana watched her, "due to physical and sexual abuse ..."

"Have you asked her why she did the drawings?" She interrupted. He was annoyed at such discourtesy, but he forgave her. "I have not do it. I was wait for us to do the therapy."

"Ask her, please."

Hannibal raised both eyebrows at the behavior of his colleague but obeyed. Elisa looked away and noticed what he was saying. She responded in a way that surprised him.

"What happened?"

"She evaded me."

"How did she avoid you?"

"She said she only did them because yes, but you can see how tense she is."

"Maybe we shouldn't force her so much," she suggested. "We need time."

"If we let time go by, she will repress her memories."

"I know but..."

"We can't let that happen, Alana."

"What do you suggest?" She asked with a mocking smile." Hannibal, we are not going to subject her to such memories, it would be a shock to her."

"If it's the only way we can help her, let's do it."

"Hannibal," she said annoyed, "I'm not going to let you do the same thing you did with Abigail." He looked at her. "I am the girl's psychiatrist and I am not going to ..."

"We are both, Alana," he interrupted. "And, what you say I did with Abigail, I have made her face the situation she is in. I want to help Elisa, it hurts to make her hit bottom, but if that helps imprison her father, I will."

"You don't have to be rude to her ... she's a little girl."

"It's not rudeness, Alana. You have to remember that, as psychiatrists, sometimes we need to touch the bottom of our patients."

"Even if they are children?"

"So is."

Alana got up from the couch and looked terrible at Hannibal.

"I refuse to expose Elisa to this, and I don't want you to do it as with Abigail."

"I'm afraid so, not to promise it."

"Well, you should do it."

Hannibal coldly watched his colleague, who didn't stop challenging him. Elisa watched the scene terrified, as it seemed familiar. It was like when her mother quarreled with her father and she hated those moments. She took one of her drawings and raised it to Alana, his lips began to tremble, and with a difficult and somewhat painful tone of voice, he mentioned:

"F... fa ... farm! ..." Both doctors were surprised at the sudden talk of the girl, they looked at her and watched as her body trembled and tears wanted to sprout. "Farm!" She exclaimed hard. Alana sat down and took the drawing, placed one of her hands on her face and tried to comfort her. "Be calm, sweet heart ..."

"She said farm," Hannibal said, more for him than for Alana. She turned to see him but did not flinch. "Does it sound like something?" She asked harshly.

"No, but we have a breakthrough."

Alana frowned strangely at what happened.

After the session Elisa and Hannibal were alone. Alana had more work to do, but the sessions would continue and she withdrew, but not before warning Hannibal again about his methods. He dismissed his colleague politely but promised nothing. Lecter looked at the little girl, who had lay on the couch and look out the window; Hannibal felt a bit of anguish over what he had achieved in therapy: generating a conflict to make the girl feel pressure. Yes it was a very rough way on his part. He got up from his chair, approached the little girl and, with a bitter memory, placed his fingers on her hair. Elisa moved a little to see him, somewhat surprised, but showed no fear or discomfort. Hannibal put a slight smile on his face, in those moments he saw his Mischa and he felt bad about hurting her.

"Forgive me, my little girl," he said, still stroking her hair.

Elisa seemed to understand but there was no reaction on her part, she let Hannibal comfort her and turned back to the window to admire the crimson color of the huge curtains that adorned that magnificent place.

The office phone rang, and something bothered by the interruption, Hannibal moved his fingers away from the girl's hair and went to answer the call.

"Dr. Lecter's office, how can I help you?"

"Dr. Lecter, I'm Jack Crawford."

"Good afternoon, Crawford," he said at the agent's bad manners. "How I can help you?"

"Doctor, good news," he sounded hopeful. "Did you find Alan Gardner?" He interrupted with a slight smile.

"No, no, Doctor Lecter. Marlène Gardner, already woke up."

And upon hearing those words Hannibal felt a stab in his chest. His faint smile vanished, he couldn't help seeing the girl and feeling like he was going to lose his little Mischa again.

A/N:

Thanks so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3