VIII. Paradise.

Antiques Shop - Baltimore, Maryland.

Will Graham got out of the car that Jack Crawford sent exclusively to bring him. He looked at the stronghold of FBI agents, forensic doctors and some of the local cops moving away all curious people. Graham swallowed hard and approached the place. Upon arriving at the laces he showed his FBI badge and gave him access without a hitch. Through the front door of the shop a distressed Jack with his hands kept them in the pockets of his coat. Will could see how his face looking eager to release the terrible news.

"He's done it again," he said, just having Will less than a foot away.

"The copycat," he said.

Jack nodded. He stepped aside, extended his arm and invited Will into the store. Once there, they passed over Native American and English antiquities; Will had never been a staunch lover of history. At the back of the room was Crawford's team. Beverly Katz was looking for fibers and some kind of evidence, Brian was photographing the terrible scene and Jimmy was digging into details about the place. Will ignored the team and his eyes focused on the body in the middle of the room.

"Christine Copana," Jack said. "Twenty-eight years, an historian graduated with honors from the University of Baltimore and a diploma in administration."

"Killed by the copycat," Will continued without looking at the body.

Christine Copana lay lying in the middle of the back room, her right arm raised to the top, at an angle of ninety degrees. The left was, approximately, one hundred and ninety degrees. Under her head was a destroyed and bloody porcelain figure and around her were certain antiques that formed the Roman numerals. Her abdomen and rib cage were open in a "T" shape and something dark was adorned inside her. Brian put aside the camera, looked at Will and started: "She has inserted several pieces of porcelain, pierced the skin to eventually get embedded in her skull. It killed her in a few moments. The copycat dissected the abdomen and ascended to the rib cage; he pulled out his liver and stomach. Everything went to cut clean."

"I understand."

"And there are no prints," Jimmy continued.

"Or anything that rat on our friend," Beverly continued. "Security cameras are down."

"What's inside of her?" Will asked curiously, as he approaches to look better at the woman.

"He let inside her a cute English design cuckoo clock; probably from the early 1900s."

Will knelt to one side of the body and looked straight at the incision. With his gloves on he touched the swollen wood; he slowly pulled out the cuckoo clock and when he had it in his possession he looked at it. It was mahogany wood, the box was adorned with leaves and small pines; small squirrel figures appeared on its sides and, at the top of the piece, the ornament of a deer's head was imposed on the sculpture. Will noticed this one had a 12:45 time. Surprised by this, Will rose up, stepped out of the body space and appreciated the body's position again. It matched the watch's time.

"Did she die at 12:45 AM?" He questioned. All three forensics denied it.

"She died around 1:30 in the morning."

"Well, the copycat dialed 12:45."

Everyone was surprised. Jack approached Will, looked at the cuckoo clock and then at the body, being surprised by it.

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know..." he snapped, staring at the clock.

John Hopkins Hospital – Baltimore, Maryland.

A promise is a promise. Hannibal did his best to take Elisa to see her mother. When the little one crossed the threshold of the door and they both looked at each other, an immense joy sheltered them. Elisa ran to her, hugged her and Marlène felt a slight pain from such an act, but she didn't care. She had her daughter in her arms.

"Mommy!" she exclaimed, as she plunged her face into her mother's chest.

"My child!"

Marlène took her daughter into her arms, placed her hands on her small chin and raised her face to see her. Elisa shone in a different way, she saw a real happiness on her face; it wasn't just to see her, there was something else. She could see the new appliances in her ears, these seemed to be of high quality better than what she used to get.

"You look beautiful, my love," she said. Elisa smiled and began to move her hands to talk to her.

Hannibal sat in front of them and watched them at all time. He was taciturn, reading everything the little girl told her mother and how she responded. Elisa forgot his presence and it bothered him.

"Thank you," Marlène said. Hannibal stared at her, without generating any expression. "For taking care of Elisa." Without words, Hannibal responded with a slight nod and mother and daughter continued to talk.

Ten minutes later a new guest joined the meeting.

Will arrived with a large bouquet of tulips, lilacs and ferns; a treat that Lecter knew wasn't from his creativity. Graham was confused to see Hannibal, but surprised and happy to see the little girl with her mother.

"Good morning," he greeted.

"Good morning, Will," Hannibal replied, as he watched him with a fake smile.

"Hello Will," with a cheerful expression, Marlène received him.

"I thought children couldn't access to see visitors."

"One of the chief doctors was a companion of mine, when we were practitioners. He granted me permission to pass the child."

Will raised his eyebrows and admired Hannibal's influences. Once by the bed, Elisa looked at Will, then at the flowers and at the end at her mother who did not look away from the young man. The girl touched her mother's chest and she react. Elisa moved her hands and Hannibal saw what the girl asked.

"What's going on?" Will questioned with a nervous gesture.

"She says you're the neighbor who has dogs, and she liked your pets. She wants to go back to your house and play with them." Marlène finished with a slight curvilinear in her mouth, Elisa resumed her eyes with him and drew a great happiness on her face. "Whenever she want to go. Elisa is always welcome," he concluded.

A silence covered them as Hannibal bore the scene with bitterness. He cleared his throat, settled in his seat and looked at the bouquet.

"Beautiful flowers," he spoke. The two embarrassed adults came to.

"Right, I forgot!" He raised the bouquet, extending it to Marlène. "They're for you." The young woman's cheeks were painted in a delicate red, she let go of her child and took the bouquet with shaking hands.

"Thank you, Will, you wouldn't have bothered."

"It's no bother," he replied, just as sorry.

Hannibal lay his chin on one of his hands, blinked slowly and watched those two get blood up their cheeks. He knew they'd fallen in love. He'd known since Will had testified about the Gardner case and appreciated the first bouquet of flowers in that room.

"Marlène, may I put the bouquet in the vase?" Hannibal interrupted, without losing courtesy.

Both reacted and she, still covered in shame, accepted his favor. She extended the bouquet, Hannibal rose up and took it and the two thanked him for his gesture. Elisa looked at the curious moment, did not understand what was happening, but liked to see everyone there. She felt safe and protected.

"I'm glad you're finally with Elisa," Will said. She smiled.

"I missed my child so much," she said, as she held her back in her arms.

"I told you, you had to get better at it. And you've done it."

"Yes, you were right."

Hannibal turned his back on them, withdrew the withered flowers from the vase and placed the new one with a delicate stillness.

"I need to ask you," Marlène continued, "have you found Alan?"

Will denied in anguish and she began to feel nervous.

"He's still missing. We're still looking for him, don't despair."

"I already want that wretch locked up..." she closed her eyes and sighed terribly. Elisa looked at her and clung to her. "I am afraid," she confessed.

"Why do you say that?"

"I am afraid that he will try to do something to Elisa again... that he will find us, that he will kill me and take Elisa..." Marlène attached her daughter to her chest and placed her lips on her head. The little girl closed her eyes and let her mother's warmth comfort her. "I want to see him dead,"' she said, making this a prayer for Hannibal.

Will placed one of his hands on hers that action pleased them, and they looked into each other's eyes. Before Will could open his mouth, Hannibal spoke.

"Marlène has nothing to worry about. We must trust Will and Crawford."

She turned around and a smile shone on her face and nodded.

"It is true..."

"Don't despair Marlène," Will concluded.

Hannibal resumed his seat, this time they both did not let go of their hands until the time, which they considered fair, passed.

"Marlène," Hannibal began, "Do you have somewhere to go, once you being discharged from the hospital?"

She blinked in surprise.

"No," replied nervously.

"Don't you have relatives, elsewhere?" Will questioned.

"No, none. My mother died a year before Elisa was born, and she was my only relative."

"So you have nowhere to stay?"

She tilted her head.

"Actually, I had thought that, once this was over... my little girl and I would leave here," Hannibal was alert when he heard those words. "Anywhere but away from this city."

Hannibal remained calm but inside an anxiety began to accumulate.

"You could live with me," Will said, getting Lecter to control that feeling. "I know Wolf Trap won't remind you of the best times, but you and Elisa will have a place to live."

Marlène smiled and took Will's hand again, thanking him for it.

Both men let the two ladies enjoy a moment alone. Once in the hallway, Will leaned against the wall and Hannibal stopped to see him.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

"The copycat struck again," he released, looking at the ceiling.

Hannibal tried to hide his slight surprise.

"What was it this time?"

"The owner of an antique store in downtown. He opened her abdomen and chest and introduced to a cuckoo clock and left her body as the shape of a watch. Also he took the liver and stomach."

This time he raised his eyebrows and Will looked back to the front.

"It is interesting."

"Do you think so?" He questioned strangely.

"I mean the fact of the watch. Why did he introduce one?"

"I don't have the slightest idea. On my way over here I was cracking my head on a why. And nothing. I can't figure out what that guy's thinking."

"Maybe it's time," he added. Will arched one of his eyebrows.

"Time?"

"You say she owned the antique shop, what makes you think? In time. When you go to an antique store it's like a time trip."

"Yes, you're right," he continued, dropping his arms. "But I know this has nothing to do with the simple fact of "feeling you travel through time.""

"What do you think?" He questioned, feeling deep curiosity.

"I don't know... I'm trying, but I don't know. Maybe I'm sensing tardiness."

"Tardiness?" He questioned as he arched his eyebrow.

"Yes... maybe, there was something about that woman that bothered him. Something related to the lack of schedule..." he stopped and bit his lower lip. "But maybe I'm wrong."

"Maybe... we'll never know," Will tilted his head and looked back at the roof. "Will," Hannibal called him, looking to change the topic, "I want to ask you something, and I hope and don't take it the wrong way."

"About what?"

"About your relationship with Marlène Gardner."

Before that Will lowered his head again and looked at Hannibal, almost upset.

"A-about Ma-Marlène?"

"That's the way it is."

"W-why?"

"I'm struck by the way you treat each other."

"Well, she's my neighbor and I'm supporting her..."

"I sense other feelings, and they go beyond a simple friendship," Will felt his cheeks burn, so much so that he couldn't help but touch them. Hannibal couldn't avoid a malicious smile. "Would you like to talk about it? In a session, of course."

"Maybe..." he snapped.

At that time a nurse came and looked at the two, stopped and informed him that the visit was soon to be completed. Hannibal thanked and looked back at Will.

"I'll see you this Friday," he said as goodbye.

And Will couldn't help but get a nagging look at him.

Elisa shed a few tears when she said goodbye to her mother. Marlène promised her that they would soon be together, it would not be long before that. And with a kiss on their daughter's sweet cheek, they said goodbye. Elisa said goodbye in a short handshake that Marlène translated as "See you soon."

Will looked at Marlène one last time and reviewed her offer to live with him.

"Elisa loves dogs, she will have fun with them," he argued, hoping that she would accept his offer.

"Great reason, Will."

"Will you do it?"

"I will," she accepted with a beautiful smile. "Plus we have a dinner waiting."

"It is true."

"I'll see you soon and thank you for everything, Will."

"I told you, thank me when this guy's already rotting in prison."

And with slight smiles they both said goodbye.

Will left the hospital, once outside looked at the time and realized he was late for an appointment he had planned for several days, and he did not want to be late for his destination.

Hannibal Lecter's Residence - Baltimore, Maryland.

Elisa was sitting down, coloring as she used to. She was happy to see her mother and did not stop to show her joy through her drawings. While she was entertained, Hannibal was in the kitchen saving some of the meat that he would taste this Saturday; he gently wrapped the soft liver and ready the stomach to cook the fleshy and juicy parts of the said organ. Once he had everything ready, he set out to prepare dinner for Elisa.

On the table came a banana bread pudding and white chocolate, covered with cocoa strips and served in a flower-shaped glass. The girl was amazed at what was in front of her. The little one took her spoon and took a piece of it, which her papillae danced in a sea of pleasurable flavor. "Dipped in passion fruit caramel, covered in coconut foam, banana bread and chocolate create a wonderful tropical feeling," he said, as Elisa looked at him happily for what she ate."I knew you'd like it."

"Thank you!" once he lowered his spoon, she cheered.

Elisa continued her dinner without Hannibal taking his eyes off her. He began to remember in Marlene's words; in leaving Baltimore forever. The very fact that it came to his mind made Hannibal experience anxiety. That feeling he had gotten rid of years ago, now haunted him again. He lost himself in his thoughts and let that well-closed room of the palace of his memories shake him again. He didn't want to lose Elisa, He didn't want to feel again what he suffered with Mischa. And Hannibal was willing to do anything for it.

Heaven's Night - Edmondson, Baltimore, Maryland.

Will arrived early at Heaven's Night Club. He entered the venue and watched as the tables were ready for his regular customers. On the stage a musical group was getting ready for their night shift and at the bar a muscular man with a big beard, cleaned the cups, without failing to look at Will who, at his discretion, was a weakling compared to the beasts he tended every night.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Will turned to see him and approached him, as he subtly displayed his FBI badge.

"I'm looking for a client of yours."

"Oh! Hold on my friend!" He exclaimed leaving the cup aside. "I don't want any trouble."

"And you won't, if you cooperate with me."

"Who are you looking for?" Will took a picture out of his jacket pocket and put it on the bar. The man looked at the photo and distinguished the guy. "Alan Gardner?" He asked, more for him.

"Do you know him?"

"I saw it on the news. Did he kill his family?" Will didn't respond, he was severe. "Look, I serve too many drunks, frustrated, and drug addicts every night. I have no memory to remember them all."

"You got to, this guy likes to draw attention."

"Every night someone draws attention in this bar, but if it's any consolation, ask Isabella," he said, pointing with his head to the stage. "She works here every night singing for the apes I have to attend to. Her beautiful voice calms even the fiercest beast. Maybe she can help you." Will took the picture, asked the man to serve him an ice-cold beer and went straight to the stage looking for Isabella. The musicians, bathed in a faint neon blue light and crimson curtain, looked up at the agent. "Who is Isabella?" He asked.

From among the sea of instruments a woman, perhaps thirty years old who had thin body, a ruffled and dark hair and wore a long black dress and her lips were painted in a red fire. She looked at Will.

"Yes?" She questioned, somewhat nervous.

"I'd like to talk to you, please," he said, showing his badge. Isabella and her musicians looked surprised but she obeyed orders, he was an FBI agent and she shouldn't make him wait. They both went to sit at the bar, Will took the beer he had ordered and gave it a big drink before talking to her. "You shouldn't drink in working hours," she affirmed.

"It's just one. It doesn't affect," he said.

"And what can I do for you?"

"Do you know this guy?" He interrogated, taking Gardner's photograph. Isabella took the image and looked at it, her frown frowned with contempt. "You know him?"

"He's a bastard!" She cried out. "Alan, right?"

Will nodded.

"Is he a frequent customer here?"

"Yeah. That asshole always makes trouble. Once, he was so drunk and tried to rip off my dress in one of my performance. He wanted to see if my nipples were juicy."

"And what happened then?"

"Jason kicked him out of the bar," she said looking at the bar-tender. "He disappeared for a while but then came back, as if nothing had happened."

"Is he usually very troublesome?"

"Always!" She exclaimed with sarcastic mockery. "Even though he is forbidden to approach the stage and dressing rooms, he always drink himself to death and breeds quarrels over the slightest thing."

"Is it like a hobby for him?"

"He's a little guy who has nothing better to do. He feels like a big macho when he's just a frustrated man."

"What do you mean?"

"That asshole, he thinks this place is a whorehouse. I've often been asked to have sex with him. But Heaven's Night is not such a place," she stopped and breathed deeply. "This place is like a paradise, where your sorrows and anxieties disappear for one night. Many monkeys mistake it for a crummy bar, but for me, this is the place where my problems disappear and make me feel like what I am, a human being with hopes and dreams."

"Is that why you sing here?" he asked.

"Yes. For many years I have endured humiliations and sexual desires of many men, but I do not care, I have my musicians and the owner of the bar who defend me. As long as my voice is heard by someone, paradise is still there."

"I seem to understand."

"You should stay and watch us perform and you will understand Heaven's Night. Perhaps, in the moments that I am here, some miracle may emerge."

"Are you implying that Alan Gardner will show up?" He questioned skeptic.

"In difficult times, everyone returns to a small piece of paradise."

Isabella rose from her seat and Will was confused, but obeyed the woman and waited for the night.

Late at night and Will having had a couple of beers, the place was filled with all kinds of people, from some with the face of thugs to people who looked like a high society. Will began to question whether he should have stayed there; he was a BAU professor and a supporter of the FBI. If anyone saw him there, they'd question his position. He gave another one swallowed his beer and as if by magic those insecurities went to hell. A soft music started flooding the place, Will stared at the stage and Isabella's band would start playing and the applause sound in the bar.

"She wore blue velvet, bluer than velvet was the night. Softer than satin was the light, from the stars..."

An astonished Will paid attention to the music; as the delicate piano and saxophone matched the lyrics that Isabella intoned. The woman was deep in her song, sparked a love for what she played and Will understood her words about Heaven's Night. As the whistling and applause rang out again and dulled the melodic song. Will noticed a euphoric man in the crowd. He gave all his attention to him and could see how he had a bandaged arm. He put aside his beer and rose to go to that guy. The closer his vision stabilized and he could distinguish that profile, it was Alan. Isabella was right, everyone was returning to their bit of paradise.

"Alan Gardner!" he shouted.

Even with the applause and so on, he could hear the call. He turned around and Will and Alan, for the first time, looked into each other's eyes. As if Alan sensed where that guy was coming from, he turned around and sought escape. Will reacted and ran, hitting some of the customers he cared little about. Alan crashed into a waiter, causing him to throw alcohol cups. Will managed to reach him and grabbed him by the neck handle.

"You're under arrest, you bastard!"

"Who the hell are you?" He cried, arrogant.

"FBI," he said, showing him his badge.

Alan was shocked by it, but with his free hand he was able to strike Will in the mouth of his stomach. Will felt the pain running through his body, some women cried out shocked by what they just saw, but that gave Alan time to escape from his hands. Will wasn't about to let that bastard get away, get some air back, get up and go after him. They went out the back of the shop and Will managed to hold him from a sleeve of his coat, made him turn around and provided a direct hit to the face.

"That was for Marlène!" He shouted. He held it again and with great accumulated strength threw another blow to his face. This time breaking her nose and part of her front teeth. "That was for Elisa!"

Already on the floor Alan screamed in pain and felt the blood in his mouth, which made him lose the fear he had.

"And what else are you going to do to me, kill me?!" He questioned with an overwhelming laugh. And Will remain static.

For a few moments Alan's face turned into the Garret Jacob-Hobbs's. His psycho smile and the holes in his chest were reflected in Alan Gardner's face and body. The tension embraced Will and his legs slowly faltered, what he saw was frightening and tormenting. And when Alan laughed out loud, Garret made fun of him.

"What's the matter with you, pretty boy?" He questioned, blending his tone of voice with that of Abigail's late father. "Are you a coward?"

Will drew his gun and aimed straight at Alan/Garret's face. His hand trembled and his mind struggled to pull or not pull the trigger. Will closed his eyes, deflected the gun a few inches and shot it without a clear thought in his mind. Alan was terrified by it and, as far as he could, rose and fled the place. Once again he had managed to evade death.

A/N:

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