X. Doku (毒)

Abigail Hobbs did not assimilate all the contempt that emanated from Hannibal Lecter's eyes. The young woman looked at him, through the paramedics who looked after her and he was standing next to a worried Jack Crawford; they seemed to be discussing the situation. She looked back at the front and watched as Will's breast was assisting, who looked dejected by what had happened.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, as the paramedic finished covering his wound.

Will looked at her.

"You defended her," he said as he settled in his place, "You did your best."

"I should have shouted earlier."

"Don't blame yourself," Will took his shirt and put it on.

"I know I should have."

"Hey," he called and with some nerve he grabbed one of his hands. "We'll find her, everything will be fine. I don't want you to push yourself. Your situation, and now this, worsens your health."

Abigail looked at those hands and at that moment she could sense some security. She looked up and her eyes crossed with Will's.

"Can I trust you?" she inquired with a lump in her throat.

"Always," he replied, with an honest smile.

Abigail smiled nervously and, through the corner of her eyes, distinguished how Hannibal and Crawford approached them. She let go of Will's hand and put hers on her face just in the blow that man gave her hurt.

"How are you?" Jack questioned.

"Fine," Will replied exhausted. Abigail tilted her head slowly.

"Will, I need five minutes with Miss Hobbs."

"Sure," he let go, without even moving from his place and Jack arched one of his eyebrows.

"In private," he clarified.

The young man observed the two concerned and upset, he not wanting to leave Abigail alone. Not now. Hannibal moved his head, pointing him out to obey, and Will reluctantly accepted. He got up from the stretcher, gave the girl a quick look and smiled. Everything would be fine. Will got out of the ambulance and walked far enough away from there. Jack took a seat in front of Abigail, who never stopped seeing him; she would rather keep her eyes on the agent than Lecter, who looked the most worried of the three.

"Miss Hobbs," Jack began. She squeezed her lips. "I need to question you," and she moved her head up and down, quickly. "Okay, first of all, I need to know your story side."

"We were in the garden," Abigail snapped, "we went out because I had an argument with Will."

"What argument?" he questioned.

"Abigail wants to write her memoirs, under the pen of Freddie Lounds," Hannibal stepped in. The girl did not have the courage to see him.

"Interesting... Why this, Miss Hobbs?"

"I want money," she revealed honestly. Jack raised both eyebrows, without any emotion about it.

"Let's pick it up," he continued. "You argued with Will, you went out into the garden and why did you take Elisa with you?"

"I... I really don't know," she confessed angrily. "I just took her by the hand and dragged her down with me. I just wanted someone to let off some steam..."

"She's seven years old."

"I know it."

Jack sighed.

"Did you know Alan Gardner?"

"No. I didn't know who he was until now."

"How did you know it was him?"

"Elisa hid behind me, she was terrified. So I deduced that," and she moistened her lips.

"What did Alan tell you?"

"He asked me to give him the child. I refused."

"Did you refuse?" Jack continued. Hannibal kept looking at her.

"Yes," Abigail said with a lump in her throat. "He told me to give her to him, that I did not have to put up with a deaf child," she said vehemently. The alarms inside Hannibal went off.

"Have you thought about it?" Jack inquired strangely.

"No!" she replied quickly, with an altered smile. "No, not at all!"

"So?"

"He kept insisting. I told him to leave, that I would scream if he came closer. He didn't believe me. Then I yelled at Doctor Lecter and Will, they came fast, but in that, he hit me in the head and took the girl."

Jack rested a hand on his leg and analyzed Abigail. The young woman was still pale and a slight tremor abounded in her body. Now Crawford set the sights on Hannibal.

"And that's where you and Will come in."

"Right. I already gave you my version, Jack."

"Yes," he said with a tremendous sigh. "Thank you for answering the questions, Miss Hobbs."

And she nodded fast.

Jack got up from the scene and got out of the ambulance leaving Abigail and Hannibal alone. The young woman had not stopped trembling, she knew that he was furious, even though she looked at him with slight concern. She could not stand his gaze and Abigail bowed her face and pleaded.

"I'm sorry. Everything I said was true. Forgive me."

"I know," was his only severe response. He rose and left the scene.

Abigail glanced and followed him until he disappeared from her perception.

Will felt his chest burn, breathed slowly, looking for that burning to control. Marlène came to his mind and with it the anxiety to tell her what had happened. He thought of the least painful way to reveal his failed request; he promised Marlène to care for and protect Elisa and had failed. He closed his eyes and expelled a painful air. Next to where he was, he perceived the sound of some heels and turned his head and body to observe as Beverly Katz was accompanied by a harmed Freddie Lounds.

"I think I've found the jackpot," the young agent joked.

"What are you doing here?" Will demanded as he approached her.

"I am hurt," the bold redhead replied, with a sarcastic smile.

"You won't believe what she told me," Beverly continued. "Alan Gardner attacked her."

Not believing her partner's words, Will pushed her aside and came face to face with Freddie Lounds.

"What do you mean that Gardner attacked you?"

"You heard me well, Will," she said in a sardonic tone. "He punched my face."

"That bastard stole my opportunity."

Lounds put down the handkerchief that covered her nose and an ironic smile came.

"Your good sense of humor never fails to me."

"Why did he attack you?"

"He wanted to know what Abigail Hobbs was doing with her daughter."

"And you told him," he snapped.

"Not at all. I just told him where she was and leave the rest of it to you or Doctor Lecter. But as I see you don't like formalities," and returned her handkerchief to her nose.

Will took her wrist, preventing the reporter from cleaning herself, and Freddie was confused about it.

"You sent Alan Gardner, a fucking molester and rapist, right to his biggest victim."

"I didn't think he was going to kidnap her."

"Strange that your calculations failed, Miss Lounds," he said angrily.

Beverly acted when she saw that scene. Freddie Lounds did not let herself be intimidated by someone like Will Graham, even though he was beginning to figure in her tabloids. In the distance Jack and Hannibal noticed the event and rushed towards them.

"Will!" Crawford called. He didn't even flinch. "What's going on?" he asked to Katz.

"I found her near the place. She told me that Alan Gardner attacked her." The two stared in amazement.

Freddie tilted her head slightly and watched the two men.

"Can you get him off me?" she questioned without any ounce of shame.

"Will!" Jack goaded.

Reluctantly he obeyed and released the delicate wrist of the reporter, which was marked in an intense pink, and she massaged that area.

"This—" he paused and swallowed hard "This lady, she sent Alan Gardner straight to Elisa."

"I told you that I didn't," she reaffirmed. "He just asked me what his daughter was doing with Abigail and I told him to ask you."

"You sent him to the girl!" Will shouted.

Freddie raised one of her eyebrows and Jack approached them and took him from his shoulders.

"Please Will," he begged and both go away from the reporter.

Jack asked Beverly to take Will out there and she obeyed. Once Will retired, Jack approached the young woman and looked at her disparagingly.

"Miss Lounds, whatever has happened, I ask you, in the most cordial way I can do, not to post anything on your tabloids."

"You can't censor me, Agent Crawford."

"I know, but I can make you delay your publications. Don't make any kind of post that can alert Alan Gardner, and if you do, I will be obligated to arrest you."

Freddie Lounds clucked her tongue, hinting to Crawford that she accepted his threat. The officer turned around and walked away from the woman he hated so much. Hannibal and the redhead were left alone; the Doctor took a quick look behind his back, making sure no one looked at him, and came closer with the reporter.

"Miss Lounds," he spoke. Surprised she looked up. "Did Alan Gardner mention his reasons for kidnapping his daughter?"

"No." And she wiped her nose.

"Any place he mentioned to you?" He asked eagerly.

"No. He just wanted his daughter."

Hannibal tilted his head in gratitude and retired. Freddie Lounds looked at him until he met with the circle of people living with Will Graham; she wiped for the last time the trail of blood covering her lips and nostril and without looking back she withdrew from that place.

Alan Gardner carried his little daughter on his free arm. Elisa did not stop crying, her eyes were two red basins of so many tears shed. People looked confused at that burly, grumpy man in the way he treated the little girl who sometimes cried out, "Dad."

Desperate because the girl was not silent, Alan drove to a nearby small park, came to a bench and sat Elisa down.

"Shut up!" he exclaimed jaded.

Elisa laid her hands on her cheeks and wiped the drops that slid on them. Her crying was not easy to control, her chest rose and sank sharply; her nose showed a crystalline mucus and how she sometimes sucked to make it disappear. Alan looked for a rag in the pockets of his trousers and painstakingly carved the girl's cheeks, who complained about how hard that work was. Alan placed the rag on her nose and asked her to blow it. She obeyed. She threw the rag on the floor and raised her healthy hand in front of her face.

"Stop crying or Cotton will go to heaven!" he shouted, slowly moving his fingers and palm. Elisa had no choice but to obey.

The laments that the little one had provoked ceased but the tears could not stop flowing. Alan cared little about her cry, while no sound came from her everything was perfect. He carried the exasperated girl again and Alan resumed the walk. Elisa leaned her chin over her father's shoulder and looked away, hoping that Hannibal and Will would show up; that the two would come running as they had seen them a couple of hours ago, but none of them showed up. Hopes faded away little by little.

Hannibal Lecter's Residence - Baltimore, Maryland.

The night had fallen, the sky had no stars and the moon became a thin, waning curve. Loyal to his cooking, Hannibal was chopping up that kidney he'd gotten several nights ago. He held firmly the handle of his cook knife; the veins of his back of his hand and arm were marked exaggeratedly. Anger had sheltered him. Being in the psychiatric ward, he was admired for controlling those chaotic emotions, it was true that he was worried, he could not refuse, but proving his true feelings was impossible for him. He cut the kidney into squares, remembering how his had saved Abigail before Crawford.

"Elisa is my responsibility, Jack," he said, as he crouched his face detonating a terrible shame.

"I said, no, I asked you Doctor Lecter not to leave the child with Abigail Hobbs."

"Abigail is not to blame for what happened," he muttered aside.

"No, but we let Alan Gardner hunt her down."

"No one knew that man's plan," he continued, grinding his teeth.

Jack squeezed his lips and looked up at the orange sky.

"No one," he replied, disappointed. And he began his walk towards the ambulance.

He bathed the kidneys buckets in olive oil and introduced them to the pan where the oil bubbled from the rising temperature. He fiddled with the meat and, gradually, it began to take on a dark, fleshy texture. He added peppers and artichokes to the pan and the sound of boiling oil served as a relaxation for Lecter.

In eight minutes his dish was ready. He served delicately on the plate and took it to his dining room ready for dinner. He took his fork and tasted some of his food.

By tasting it was not the taste he had imagined. It wasn't because the meat had not been cooked to perfection, he knew how to take good care of the meat; vegetables were fresh and olive oil was his favorite brand. His taste buds failed because of his tension. He accumulated anger and the memories that had come from seeing that vile, unhappy man take her little girl.

That dish that had been served had to play as the main dish of that dinner that had not been achieved well. He had designed everything to go perfectly; it would be the dinner at which the girl would taste her improvement in the kitchen. After so many years, from that last time Hannibal cooked for Mischa, the dish Coratella with Carciofi.

Hannibal remembered, with a bitter smile, the first and last time he prepared the dish for his little sister. Mischa was fascinated, it was the best her little palate had tasted in those years of "war and austerity." Hannibal was not happy with his creation, it was not like the real Coratella but Mischa was delighted, pleased in every bite. And that made him happy.

Putting aside his memories he gave another bite to the meat and it was still tasteless, and his fine palate could no longer eat. There was no passion in its preparation, unlike the one he had wanted days ago. He take his fork down, moved the plate and kept looking at it. The image of Alan, with a desperate Elisa in his arms, was clear in his mind. It was repeated like a scratched record and his childhood memories also made more a scratch in his memory. Hannibal rose from the chair and picked up the dish to wash him. He did not waste the food but knew it was a waste of time. He had to act, he had to get to Gardner somehow or other, and get everyone who stood in his way to get Mischa back.

John Hopkins Hospital - Baltimore, Maryland.

Will Graham didn't have the courage to approach room 304. He scratched the back of his neck in despair, felt the palms of his hands sweat cold and a fear embraced his body. He couldn't, there was no strength to come and confess to Marlène. What would the poor woman say? Will responded itself by seeing the tears and despair of knowing his broken promise. There was no courage to do it but he had to. He took a deep breath and, in leaps and bounds, approached the door and was then overcome by panic and turned around and fled from the cruel reality that would be revealed when that door was opened. Ready to leave, and no longer to return, he looked shocked at Hannibal, walking quietly to where he was. He seemed not to have noticed his presence, and felt fate take his side, but Lecter looked up and saw at the fearful Will.

"Good afternoon," he greeted, tired.

"Good afternoon, Doctor."

"I guess you're here to break the news."

"It supposes well," he said with a restless smile.

"You can't do it," Hannibal said.

Will was surprised.

"Am I too obvious?"

"Too much," young Graham bowed his face and scratched his neck again, and half his head was already sore. "If it's any consolation, I understand you, Will. I don't have the courage to break the news to Marlène either."

"You?" he asked incredulously. Hannibal nodded. "I am surprised."

"I have Elisa's tutoring. How do you think I feel? Same or worse than you."

Now Will tilted his head.

"Do you think it's a good idea that we both give her the news?"

"It will be fatal. But we have no choice."

Hannibal extended his arm and invited Will to follow him. There was no choice. They both went to the door, knocked and opened it. Marlène, who had some papers with her, turned and saw the two men. Hannibal and Will greeted politely and nervously; she had a bad feeling.

"How are you?" Will asked.

"Much better," she replied, feeling the bad vibe.

Hannibal did not avoid looking at those papers, some had the Florida logo, and others were images of apartments near the beach. He deduced the facts and his restlessness grew.

"How is Elisa?" she asked, looking straight at Hannibal.

He reacted and observed the young woman severely.

"Marlène, Will and I have something to tell you," he alluded angrily.

The young woman was upset.

"What is it?"

"Before I tell you," Will continued, "we don't want you to get agitate, this can affect your health and..."

"What the fuck is going on?" Marlène demanded frantically.

Will's nervousness flourished again but Hannibal was not intimidated by that attitude. He stood in front of Will and stared at Marlène.

"Mrs. Gardner, I'm sorry to tell you this, but your husband kidnapped Elisa."

Marlène's skin suddenly paled; she felt the blood stop draining through her veins and her heart stopped. She looked away from the two of them and placed the back of her hand on her lips; she squeezed the papers on her bed hard and tears flowed from her eyes. Will couldn't stand to see her like this, walked up to her and grabbed her hand where she was squeezing papers.

"Marlène," he called, but she didn't move to see him. "Marlène, please calm down."

"For fuck's sake, how can you ask me to calm down?!" she shouted. "Will, Alan has her! And that bastard already did something to her!"

"We're looking for her," he mention while he holding her hand. "An Amber alert is on and..."

"And what do they accomplish with that?!" She said looking at them both. "Didn't you hear me?! I begged you to take care of her!" Marlène bowed her face and tears fell on the wrinkled leaves.

"I know Marlène... I know and forgive me..."

"Will," Hannibal spoke quietly, as he laid his hand on his shoulder. "Go get a nurse, Marlène is entering a crisis. It can be harmful."

Young Graham looked at him, not at all sure of the request; he did not want to let go of that delicate, pale hand, he wanted to stay by her side, accepting his insults and it was the fairest thing for this situation. Hannibal insisted once again, if Marlène continued like this, the stress would rise and be worse for her condition. Will let go of his hand in pain and left the room. Marlène placed both hands on her face, her lament was stormy but Hannibal cared little. This one took one of those papers and looked at it with prejudice.

"Florida?" He questioned.

Marlène looked up slightly.

"I thought you'd already killed him."

"What's in Florida, Marlène? You don't have any relatives."

The woman looked at Hannibal bewildered.

"Why didn't you kill him?"

Hannibal ignored her, showed her the papers again and shook it delicately.

"Are you going to Florida?"

"Yes," she revealed, at the rejection of her questions. "I intend to leave this fucking city once I have my daughter with me."

"I understand," he replied quietly, leaving the paper next to her. "I will kill Alan," he continued, "but I need you to give me some indication of where I can locate him. He isn't in Wolf Trap; they already investigated; in his old work he has not appeared and in Heaven's Night either."

"I don't know," she said, looking for a handkerchief. "Those are the places he frequented most, at least they are what I knew."

Hannibal sighed desperately and at that moment Will arrived with the nurse and they treated the woman. Hannibal left the room, unnoticed by those present, walked down the corridor and set out to contemplate the asphalt landscape. His search for Alan had been complicated, Hannibal had some faith that Marlène would give him information but it was all useless. The only thing he obtained was the fearsome confirmation of Marlène's future departure with the girl. Hannibal could not help feeling a terror inside him, the little girl was in the grip of that bastard; suffering from unspeakable acts and could not defend her. He felt so helpless. He adjusted his tie and took one last look at the landscape, would keep looking for Alan, not without first starting to annihilate those who stood in his way, and the first on his list was Marlène.

Marlène had not been able to contemplate the dream thinking about how her little Elisa would be. Every minute she prayed to God that her little one would be well, that she would not have suffered any harm, but within her being she refused to let Elisa find herself in a perfect condition. She looked at the papers on Florida and took one of them, for a brief moment Will came to his mind. When the nurse had checked on her, he stayed longer with her, had paid attention to the papers and she told him she was moving to Florida. Will wanted to start over and living by the beach seemed beautiful. Will was surprised and sad about the decision, but he understood it, he also sought a clean slate, although on many occasions he had failed, but it was good for a corrupt soul to forge itself from its ashes.

"I'll go with you," he confessed, Marlène looked at him strangely. "We'll start together from scratch."

"Will..."

"Listen to me," he interrupted. "At this time, I have thought many things, too many. In them are you, Elisa and a young girl I care for; her name is Abigail. I want us to be a family, Marlène. But, I don't know what you think."

Tears continued to run down the young woman's cheeks and the pink color was slowly forged into her pale skin. Will began to feel uncomfortable at what he had revealed; his intentions were not to say so and he thought he had frightened Marlène but, to his surprise, the young woman laid her hands on his jaw and, as delicate as she showed herself to be, gave him a pure and honest kiss. Will was in shock for a few moments. Upon regaining consciousness, Will learned that Marlène's lips were soft and delicious; he placed his hands on the back of her neck and was captivated by desire. The kiss culminated a few minutes later, Marlène put her hands on Will's chest and could feel a bandage; she did not want to ask about it, but she imagined why.

"Yes, I want," she spoke, to the silence created, "I want to start a family with you."

Young Graham smiled, placed his hands on Marlène's and looked into her eyes.

"I promise I'll found Elisa, safe and sound; and once you hold her, we will leave here." She did not control her tears and a nervous smile was drawn on her face. "Don't cry. Everything will be ok, I promise."

"Thank you, Will, thank you. You're an angel."

"No." He replied, wiping away his tears. "You are the angels in my life."

And Marlène kissed him again, exuding an immense and deep love.

She came out of his memory and sighed with bitterness and happiness. Marlène wanted that Doctor to keep his word and kill that son of a bitch of Alan, so she could go with Will. But while rambling Marlène felt a presence in her room, she turned and under the threshold, a doctor was there. He wore an OR suit; he wore a hair protector, gloves, and a face mask. The light emanating from the room was very dim and she could not tell if it was her doctor.

"Doctor?" she asked nervously.

He entered the room and at a leisurely pace approached her. Marlène began to feel terror.

"Good evening, Mrs. Gardner," he greeted, acknowledging that tone of voice.

"Doctor Lecter?"

Once beside her, he put his face mask and a scathing smile adorned his face. Marlène was confused.

"I am puzzled to see you still awake."

"What are you doing here?" she inquired, as she moved a little away from the shore.

"It's a short night visit, you don't have to be uncomfortable."

"What do you want?"

"I'd like to have a little talk with you, regarding your sudden decision to go to Florida."

"Why?"

"I must be honest with you, Marlène," he said, as he approached the stretcher to push away the button that called for the nurses. "Your idea seems a little hasty to me. Almost bad taste."

"What do you mean?" She questioned, still shaking.

Hannibal reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a syringe that contained a thick liquid.

"All day, I've been thinking about it, I feel that the promise I've kept overstep our trust."

"I didn't ask you to— but you promised me to kill Alan."

"True. But of course I expected something in return; quid pro quo, Marlène."

"And what did you expect?"

"To leave Elisa near me."

Marlène was shocked by that response.

"I knew it! I knew I shouldn't trust you, I sensed it!"

"Don't judge me badly, Marlène. Her maternal instinct is too out of focus, I am not like her husband, in my life I will be as repugnant as him" and pulled the cover from the syringe.

"Ah no?!" she exclaimed sarcastically. "Then what kind of disgusting being are you?!"

"I'll tell you my secret, Marlène. I have killed many people; each and every one of those people were such disgusting and ill-mannered beings that they received their punishment. I ate her organs; kidneys; lungs; livers..." Marlène was petrified. "And her husband will be next, so there's no doubt about it."

"By God...! You're a monster."

"Unfortunately, yellow press have dubbed me "The Chesapeake Ripper."

"For God — what do you want from my daughter?" she asked in horror. Hannibal did not answer. "She has done nothing to you and no one! She's just a child..."

"I know it."

"Stay away from her! Do what you want to me but don't touch her; my little one has suffered enough to be with someone as sick as you now!"

At those words Hannibal quickly raised his right hand and, agile, hit Marlène's throat, who was amazed at what happened; she did not have time to see the blow. She felt the lack of air, could not utter words; she placed both hands over her throat and felt saliva come out of her mouth. Hannibal did not wait any longer, he took Marlène's right arm and inserted the needle into his forearm and drained the entire contents of the syringe. Marlène felt that liquid burn in her vein and that pain spread all over her arm.

"Ricin," Hannibal said as he released her arm. "In a single dose, it's lethal. I'm afraid you'll suffer some internal bleeding, but the pain won't be too much," Marlène kept looking at Hannibal with horror. The liquid burned her and the agony began to emerge. "Remember Marlène, you were a terrible mother, you couldn't take care of your daughter; I will see to it that she will be happy, as she always should have been."

Hannibal left the syringe on the bed, turned around and left the room. Having one foot out of place, Hannibal looked to his left side and surprised distinguished Alan Gardner. They looked each other in the eye for a moment, but Hannibal knew he couldn't stay; if they saw him everything would be over. He turned around and began to walk away. Strangely, Alan walked into the room, entered and looked at his dying wife.

"Marlène!" he screamed. He approached her and held her head, discovering a thread of blood running down her nose and saliva falling into her robe. "My God, Marlène!" Alan looked at the syringe, grabbed it and smelled the tip discovering she had been poisoned. "Resist!" He cried.

He dropped the syringe and ran out of the room. Alan looked to his right side, where the doctor had fled and was willing to follow him but he was surprised to hear his name being pronounced: "Alan Gardner!"

He turned and looked at Will Graham, who was carrying a bouquet of chrysanthemums and lilacs in one hand and pointing a gun at him with the other one. Alan turned around and ran. Will lowered his arm and began his career against him but suddenly stopped at the door of 304 to discover the agony that Marlène was suffering.

"No!" he shouted. "Nurse!" Desperate he cried.

Will went into the room, threw the bouquet of flowers and put the gun in his holster, came to her and took her hands. Seeing the face of her beloved, he began to cry and plead to resist, saying her that she should remembering Elisa and her future life in Florida. Marlène's sore face said goodbye to Will Graham. He knew she would not survive. His hopes and illusions had begun to disappear but not the fact of who was going to pay for this.

A/N:

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