IX

Tell me that everything is fine

Note : Two chapters for the price of one ^^

Happy reading!

I slowly woke up in a cocoon of heat. Refusing to open my eyes, I snuggled up a little more to Hannibal's body, sighing. The arm around my waist tightened its grip. He kissed my forehead.

"If we don't want to lose the small lead we have, we must go now, Will." He whispered in my ear.

"I know." I mumbled, burying my nose in his neck.

"Go take a shower. I'm going to pack our things. Then, we'll quickly eat something."

Resigned, I left his arms to sit down, passing a hand in my tangled hair.

"Coming with me?" I invited him.

"In this tiny cesspool? Certainly not. It's bad enough to go there alone. We'll have much better opportunities." He answered, before kissing me.

I laughed against his lips, before getting up and picking up my towel which had fallen on the carpeted floor during the night.

…

It was early. We finished a little before dawn. I closed the trunk while Hannibal sat down behind the steering wheel. I joined him, shivering cold. He opened the glove compartment and took out an old and frayed roadmap which had certainly belonged to the previous owner of the car, before giving it to me. Understanding very well what he wanted, I unfolded it on the dashboard to spot our location.

"I seem to remember that we are on the 259. Between Yellow Spring and the state line." He said, pointing a zone on the yellowed paper. "If I'm not mistaken, we have to continue on this road."

He was right.

"If we take turns all day long, we can reach Monterey before having to stop somewhere." I said. "Then we'll change vehicles."

He nodded his approval before starting the car.

…

The road rushed by endlessly. My thoughts escaped towards the memories of my crossing of the Atlantic Ocean. Weeks, alone on that boat. And nevertheless, the time hadn't seemed that long to me. I was so absorbed by my purpose at that moment, that nothing would have been able to stop me. At that time, finding Hannibal had been an obsession. A motor. Now, we were fugitives together. But the fear was exhausting. Sleeping with one eye open, stopping only when absolutely necessary, avoiding coming into contact with anybody. Driving and driving again. Mexico had never seemed to me so far. But, now that our faces were certainly posted in all the airports and police stations of the country, we really had no other choice. And FBI knew it very well. We had conceal our destination from, by any means. Otherwise, we would never cross the border. It was a race against time and we didn't have the advantage. We had to disappear from the radars, and fast.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked suddenly, after an eternity of silence.

We didn't really need to speak to feel comfortable together. Strangely, it was now that we were completely honest with each other, and ourselves, that discussions became useless. We weren't patient and psychiatrist any longer; I didn't have to try to extract confessions and he didn't try to manipulate me. There was only a deep bond, the uncontrollable need to touch, the insatiable hunger of our bodies and feelings too difficult to describe.

"Us." I answered, incapable of summarizing things differently.

"Why did you follow me? Why have you done all this?" He continued, after a moment of silence. "You could have warned Jack, or confronted Alana directly. It's not as if you wouldn't have been entitled to succeed. Fortunately, to plan the murder of a patient is still illegal, even if it would be good for some people."

I was going to answer that I didn't know. One more time. But, it wasn't the truth. However, certain things remained too hard to say.

"I died in your kitchen, Hannibal." I murmured. "Since then, my life doesn't belong to me anymore. I spent days wandering around in your house, reliving that evening, imagining a different outcome, until finally I understood that a part of me wanted to run away with you. And this part was the last thing I owned. The part of me which survived that night."

He stared at the horizon, with this neutral expression behind which he was hiding when he didn't want to show what he felt. I believed that he was going to leave it there, but he surprised me.

"Can I ask you the same question as you, Will?"

"Which one?" I answered, looking through the window.

"You know very well."

And it was true. Obviously. But I had no intention to let him get away so easily. If he wanted an answer, he'd have to make the effort to ask it explicitly.

"I really don't know. I asked you many questions in the last few days."

I grimaced, trying not to smile, looking at the landscape...

"You are aware that I see your reflection in the window, right?"

…and failed miserably.

"What do you want to know, Hannibal?"

"Do you know that I like the way you say my name? One day, I'll make you scream it."

"What?!" I exclaimed, blushing deeply. "No! I know what you're trying to do!" I added, putting my finger in his face. "But it's not gonna work. I'm not this moldable being whom you could manipulate as you please anymore."

"No. That man died in my kitchen, right?"

"That man couldn't love you, because he didn't love himself." I whispered, looking at my hands put on my knees.

"And the one you are today?" He asked, after a moment of hesitation.

"I'm still here, aren't I?" I answered, turning to him.

He smirked and I wanted to bite him. My gaze fixed on his tasty neck, when the siren of a police car made me jump. Through the rear window, I could see the agent behind his steering wheel. He wanted us to pull over. Hannibal slowed down, before stopping.

"What are you doing?"

"A high-speed chase would be stupid. He's alone, without backup, it's probably nothing."

The officer parked behind us and exited his vehicle. His boots slammed on the asphalt and his nightstick swung against his hip. He put his hat on his brown hair, before putting his hand on his holster out of habit. I lowered the visor of my cap in front of my eyes and Hannibal adjusted his beanie as low as possible on his forehead before opening the window.

"Hello, sirs. Do you know why I pulled you?"

The sweat flowed into my back and the Glock, which I had stored in the inside pocket of my jacket, suddenly weighed very heavy against my chest.

"No, I don't, officer." Hannibal retorted, mastering perfectly the tone of his voice. The pure innocence.

"Your left taillight is broken."

"Really?" The most sincere surprise, now. "I'm very sorry. I'm going to fix that from our next stop."

"I don't doubt that for a second. But, I have to write you up, sir. Can I see your driver's license, please?"

A long silence answered his request. The papers in question were certainly at the hospital, with Hannibal's personal effects. Even though, the car was stolen.

"Sir?" The officer repeated.

His body language radically changed.

"I'm afraid I forgot it."

"Forgot? If I'm to believe your license plates, you're not exactly from around here. You drive without license from Maryland. I'm going to need you to step out of the car, sir."

"Wait! I got mine!" I said, going through into my jacket. "I'm going to take the wheel and everything will be settled."

"Step out of the car, sir." He repeated, ignoring me. "And you don't move." He added for my benefit.

Hannibal gave me a glance, before carefully opening his car door. The glance. The one that I had finally learnt to recognize. And I was held ready for anything. He got up slowly and dominated the policeman with his entire height. I kept an eye on them. The officer quickly searched him.

"Stay here." He ordered, before returning to his car.

Immediately, I very slowly opened my car door and dropped to the ground, then closed it discreetly, before rolling under the SUV.

"…A research for the plate: 335 Alpha Victor November. Registered in the Maryland." I vaguely heard him to ask on the radio.

I crawled up to the back of Chevrolet, losing my cap. I knew what would happen.

Boots slammed on the asphalt again, passed within three feet of me, before stopping.

"I have to ask you to come with me, sirs. This car is reported stolen..." He said, while I squatted behind the bumper. "Hey! Where is your friend?" He exclaimed, pointing his gun on Hannibal, as I got up with the Glock in my hand.

"Here." I answered, aiming at his head. "Get away from him."

I didn't believe in God, but I prayed with all my heart so that nobody comes down this road now. The officer slowly turned to me, and I saw in his eyes when he understood how much he was totally fucked.

"You… You are these two guys… The FBI profiler and…" He looked at Hannibal. "…the cannibal."

He had recognized us finally.

"Give me your gun."

He did this without resistance and I pointed it on his temple.

"Sorry about this." I said.

"No… No, wait!"

And I pulled the trigger.

…

Hannibal was behind the steering wheel again. He drove straight ahead, hands and jaw clenched.

"Was it really a good idea to leave him on the road?" He asked, after a long moment of heavy silence.

"Nothing has to connect us with this murder. It'll look like a traffic control that went wrong and a hit-and-run. And I shot him with his own gun."

"You forget the license plate. We have to get rid of this car, right now."

A road sign indicated Wardensville and he turned right, before slowing down a bit.

We entered into the city – if we could call it a city – and we avoided the main road, going further into in the surrounding forest. The wheels of the 4x4 bit the muddy path and we finally parked under cover of the treetops, before taking our bags and abandoning the car. They would eventually find it, but we'd be long gone.

We walked until the periphery of the municipality without seeing a single living soul. Wardensville was a lost village. Two hundred inhabitants, at the most. And we easily found a used car salesman. To leave a witness again wasn't ideal, but people from here lived far from the tumult of the big cities.

For a price, the bristly and toothless man agreed to sell us a black Jeep in good condition, without question. And we got back quickly on the road without a backward look. The race against time continued.