Sorry it's been so long. I've had so many things going! I get an idea going on something else and I have to run with it, so I apologize. I'm trying to keep up, I promise. With the airing of season 2 coming up I'm sure I'll have plenty of inspiration!


Silence settled over us once more. I twisted the sleeve of my jacket. I'd give it another day before I went home. I wagered that was about how long I could go without talking to someone about this. I wanted to be surrounded by my friends, buried in blankets, drowning myself in a gallon of Rocky Road. I was drained beyond measure. It left me feeling numb, empty. The stillness of the air was suffocating. I pulled my hat off and rolled my window down, letting the cool night air wash over my face. I closed my eyes, breathing in and out slowly. I was feeling less than comfortable in the car with Dr. Lecter. Part of me wanted to spill out every question I had floating around. The majority was starting to feel the tension grating on my nerves. Even though he wasn't looking at me, I got the feeling that I was being analyzed.

Thankfully we pulled up to the hotel a few short minutes later. He offered to help me with my bags, which I reluctantly accepted. A bored-looking young man, who barely managed a smile, greeted me at the front desk. I waited patiently for him to find me a room. I thanked him, took the room keys he had given me and led the way down the hall he had directed us toward. One of the lights in the corridor flickered noisily, casting shadows across the walls and floor. A sense of fear fluttered its way up my stomach to my heart, an icy hot hand clawing at my insides. It was almost like being followed by a malevolent force rather than a person. I tripped, catching myself on the wall. I swiped the back of my hand across my forehead to wipe away the cold sweat collecting there. The desk clerk had given me two keys. He must've thought we were rooming together. I fumbled over them to unlock the door, ever aware of Dr. Lecter's presence behind me. I held the door for him to follow me in, flipping on lights as I went. I shuffled over to a small table in the corner and set my bag down on one of the chairs. I heard the door close followed by the slow, purposeful footsteps of him following me into the room. I finally turned to face him, running my fingers through my hair.

"Thank you," I said quietly, crossing to him to take the handle of my rolling suitcase. "I can call you a cab to take you back to the hospital. Um… You're welcome to wait in here until it shows up. I'm just gonna be settling in."

He nodded once. "Yes, thank you."

I moved my bag to the floor and crossed to the nightstand to retrieve the phonebook. I spent a few minutes calling around before I found a company that was still open. Dr. Lecter had taken a seat at the table. I dug through my suitcase for my plaid flannel nightgown and toothbrush.

"I'm just gonna put on my pajamas if you don't mind," I said, gesturing toward the bathroom. "Make yourself comfortable. Your cab should be here soon."

He nodded. I grabbed my ipod and speaker and headed into the bathroom to change. The softness of the fabric and familiarity was comforting, particularly my own underwear. I splashed cool water over my face, listening to the sound of nature coming through my speaker. I patted my face dry on a towel and sighed heavily. I looked at my reflection for the first time since that morning. My eyes were bloodshot, a little puffy. My hair was still crinkly from being braided and was looking haphazard at the moment. In this lighting especially my skin was paler than I was used to seeing, washed out. I appeared as worn as I felt. I quickly brushed my teeth and folded my dirty clothes before reentering the room. For half a second I reconsidered my choice in pajamas. It was too late now. It would be rude to go back in and change again. I shut my music off and set my clothes in the corner. Dr. Lecter looked perfectly content sitting at the table flipping through an old magazine. He glanced up from it while I was getting comfortable on one of the beds. I couldn't tell if I was actually cold or if it was just the hollow feeling that hadn't left the pit of my stomach yet. It still felt like there was a hunk of ice settling in the core of my body and I hadn't adjusted to it yet. The chill left a dull ache in its wake. Trying to smother it out was thus far unsuccessful. I stared thoughtfully at the pattern in the comforter for a moment before clearing my throat and sitting up straight.

"Dr. Lecter?" I ventured.

He clicked his tongue at me in scolding and smiled. "Hannibal," he corrected.

I blushed and nodded. "Hannibal," I amended. It felt strange; like calling a teacher by their first name.

He leaned back in his chair, giving me his full direct attention. I managed not to shrink away like I wanted to. "What's on your mind?"

I picked at my nails again for several long seconds, staring at the well-tailored chest of his suit before I raised my gaze to meet his. "Do you think Mr. Hobbs was guilty?"

He broke eye contact, examining the stained surface of the table instead. "All evidence supports that-"

I shook my head and he stopped, raising his eyebrows curiously. "I'm not asking what the evidence is telling us. I'm asking what you personally believe. Do you think that Mr. Hobbs was guilty?"

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He took a moment of gazing at the floor to think it over before he nodded and looked back to me. "I do."

I don't know what else I had been expecting, but for some reason hearing him say those two small words came as a shock to me. I exhaled sharply, any breath I had fleeing my body in a rush of air. I clutched helplessly at my heart to stifle the ache. I nodded fervently, signaling that I had heard his response. He was a very intelligent man – that much I could tell. If he thought Garrett Jacob Hobbs - the man whose family I had spent countless summer nights sharing dinner with, watching movies with, setting off fireworks with on Independence Day – was without a doubt in his mind a serial killer… I believed him.

"Keeran?"

Hannibal's smooth voice pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced up at him, holding my head in my hands. I was starting to quiver again. He must have noticed. He had sat forward in his chair. He was frowning still, a look of mixed confusion and that lingering curiosity on his face. I noticed for the first time that the look of concern didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Are you feeling all right?" he continued.

I forced what must have been my hundredth smile for the day. It was getting harder to keep it up. "Yeah, I'm okay," I said weakly. "I'm just really tired is all."

He watched me a moment longer before reaching into the pocket of his suit. He pulled out a small card and crossed the room to sit across from me on the second bed. He leaned over and handed it to me. "If you feel like you need someone to talk to Keeran, you can call me. My office is here in Baltimore. I understand you don't live far. If you are ever in need of a voice of reason, feel free."

I turned the crisp business card over in my fingers a few times. The design was fairly simple and to the point, no unnecessary distractions from the clean-cut font. I laughed dryly and rubbed my forehead.

"I, uh… I appreciate the gesture, but…" I eyed his suit again. It looked very expensive. "I have a feeling you're a bit above my pay grade. I've got pretty shoddy insurance so I'm pretty much 100% positive that you are not on the list of providers."

He gave me a small, half-smile. "A consultation is free of charge. Although, technically, if I'm not diagnosing you we are only having a friendly conversation – and that I can do for free to my heart's content."

I looked down at the card a moment longer. I might take him up on that offer sometime, depending on how the next week went. I seriously doubted the friendly conversation bit, no matter how pleasing the accent or tone. It was more like a mongoose charming a cobra. I gave him a more earnest smile. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"You are welcome."

I must have held his gaze too long. He tilted his head to the side a little and his smile widened just a fraction. I blushed and looked back down at the hands in my lap. I still hadn't managed to quite put my finger on what it was about him that I found so fascinating. Goodness yes he was attractive, but there was something lurking behind his seemingly innocent features; I could feel it. Moreover, every instinct I had screamed at me that it was something dark and malicious. In the back of my mind, a thought planted – it felt a bit like sitting in a room with a werewolf [I imagined, at least]. Leave it to me to draw that sort of parallel. Somewhere in there was a beast waiting to lash out at the right person; or the wrong person, rather – whoever decided to piss him off. Whatever it was, the mask of normalcy was quickly becoming more and more transparent. What I would find behind it I wasn't sure yet.

Still, I didn't immediately decide that he was terribly frightening – a little intimidating, yes, maybe a little disarming in the way I would catch him studying me, but he didn't send me screaming. He had quite the opposite effect, as a matter of fact. He was so poised and calm that it made it easier for me to take a breath and do the same. My eyes traveled to his shoes. They were black, perfectly shined, and looked brand new. I swallowed hard. How did he still manage to look so perfect after such an ordeal? I must look like hell in comparison. I subconsciously reached up to smooth my hair down, my hand trailing down my neck to touch my pearls for assurance. That was when I realized they were gone. I looked down in horror, realizing I must have left them with the FBI. I gasped and swore under my breath, hiding my face in my hands before my eyes had the chance to tear up again.

I felt a hand cautiously rest upon my shoulder. "What is it?"

God, why did he have to have that stupid lovely accent? He was impossible to ignore. I shook my head, laughing at my own foolishness, and looked up at him with an exasperated sigh.

"I left my pearls with the FBI," I grumbled. "I think they took them with the rest of my things to gather samples and… they never gave them back. ARGH! I can't believe I forgot! I got those from my grandma! My brain is just so scrambled today…"

I heard him chuckle and threw a dangerous glare in his direction, daring him to laugh at me. He raised his eyebrows, seemingly the smallest bit taken aback, before settling into a smile instead.

"I may be able to get them back for you," he replied. "You will have to wait until they have everything they need from them, at the very least."

I nodded grudgingly. That made sense, I suppose. Just then my phone rang. I answered and spoke briefly with a gentleman from the cab company, who was waiting just outside. I was a bit disheartened that he had arrived so quickly, but also relieved. I stood awkwardly, turning my phone over in my hands a couple of times before tucking it back into my pocket. He was standing on the opposite side of the bed, backlit by the dim lighting of the lamp in the far corner. He looked like a fallen angel [more like a demon in disguise was my guess, really]. I shifted uncomfortably at the disturbing notion that I was still quite strongly attracted to him - more specifically that the idea was more than a little exciting - and plastered on another wavering smile.

"I guess this is goodnight then," I said nervously, fidgeting with my hands as I walked him to the door. My face lit up and I scurried over to my bag before he could say a word, retrieving a scrap of paper. I quickly scribbled on it before returning to his side. I held it out to him, biting my tongue for several long seconds as he looked down at it in confusion. "It's my phone number," I explained. "If by any chance she…" I stopped myself, pausing to shake my head and laugh quietly. When I looked back up at him though, he was gazing back at me with fixed understanding.

"If she wakes up, I will call you," he assured me with one last faint smile.

I pressed my mouth into a tight line and nodded. "Goodnight Hannibal. Thank you, again, for all of your help."

He nodded, bidding me farewell. "Goodnight Keeran. Take care of yourself."

I waited to see him disappear down the hall before I shut the door and locked it. Feeling utterly exhausted, I staggered to my bed as I stretched my arms up over my head. I collapsed onto the nearest bed. The stiffness of the mattress didn't bother me. I was overwhelmingly happy to be at rest. I turned on my ipod and the accompanying speaker on the nightstand. I flicked off the lamp, the soothing sounds of my Secluded Lake soundtrack softly filling my room. I was asleep within minutes, though I can't say it was a very restful sleep after all.