Author's Note: See the end of the chapter for personal responses to your
reviews.
Chapter 5: Clarice's Realizations and Will's Decisions
Clarice Starling stormed into her office, threw her briefcase across the room, and slammed the door behind her. The briefcase hit the opposite wall with a 'crack' and fell to the floor. She had driven the thirty miles from Graham's home in Quantico, Virginia in about thirty minutes, committing countless traffic violations as she went. Clarice leaned against her office door with her arms folded across her chest and fumed for a moment over her encounter with Graham. Then she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the door for a moment. She re-opened them and turned to look out the window. One nice thing about having moved out of her basement office was the fact that she had a nice view now. Darkness was just settling over the city of Washington D.C., the red-orange glow of sunset fading into a deep purple-blue.
FBI Headquarters was practically deserted and Clarice was glad about that. She did her best work at night after everyone had departed for home and loved ones. She supposed this was a benefit to having no loved ones of her own waiting for her at home, she could work as late into the night as she wanted.
Clarice strode to the window and opened it. She leaned down, closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply the rich evening scents. For some reason night time was when she felt closest to Dr. Lecter, as if a bond was forged between them. At night it seemed she could almost sense where he was and all too often she felt he was near.
She heard the door to her office open and fearing it was her boss, Kendra "the Devil incarnate" Mitchell, Clarice put on the best smile she could muster. When she turned around, she saw Seth standing there instead. He returned her smile bleakly, closed the door to her office, and sat down in the chair facing the desk.
Seth was extremely curious about Will Graham. From everything he'd read and heard about the former agent, he was an odd man to work with; quiet, unassuming, often working through the night, but that he was an intellectually powerful man who had done his job in a way that no one else seemed quite capable of doing. Seth grinned. He sounded just like Clarice. He looked at her and realized she was watching him steadily.
"Well?" Seth asked.
"Well what?" Clarice retorted. "What are you doing here so late anyway? Don't you and Ardelia have a date?"
Seth grinned. "No, she cancelled. She had to work late." Clarice had introduced Ardelia to Seth and the two had hit it off from the beginning. They had been dating for several months now. "I was hoping you would come back here after your appointment." He paused. "What's he like?" Seth smiled. "Graham?"
Clarice rolled her eyes and turned to look out the window again. Her first impression of Graham was not good. He was foul, rude, and obviously had serious chemical dependency issues. But she could not deny the realization that was now staring her in the face. She looked back at Seth, who smiled expectantly.
Clarice shrugged her shoulders. "What's he like?" she echoed. "He's like me." She sighed again. "When I look at him, I see my future. At the rate I'm going, I see myself in 15 years." She shook her head slightly and placed it in her hands. "Oh God help me."
Seth's smile turned sympathetic as he watched his friend grieve at the vision of her future. "Is he gonna help you?"
She looked up at him, her fingers rubbing her temples. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I left the case file with him in hopes that he'll take a look at it at least. He wasn't very keen on the idea of delving back into the world of Dr. Lecter." Clarice managed a wan smile. "Can't say I blame him. We'll see. I don't know. So how pissed was the Devil incarnate when I left this afternoon?"
Seth winced. "Let's just say that if she had been able to get her claws into you, you'd be dead."
Clarice fumed. "She expects me to catch Lecter and yet she makes it almost impossible for me to do so. I swear to God, most of the time I feel as if I'm forced to operate with one hand tied behind my back. Dammit!" she exclaimed.
"Well, darlin', you did outright disregard her order to forget the whole Graham angle after he failed to show for the meeting."
"So I went to him instead of making him come to us. So what?" Clarice was outraged. "I need his help. I really think he could be of great use in Lecter's capture. But our boss doesn't seem to understand that."
"Kendra's concerned, Clarice. She doesn't think Graham is entirely stable. Some of the older agents say he's become an alcoholic and something of a drug addict," Seth replied. "Did you see any signs of chemical abuse?"
Clarice, who in recent years had come to know the pitfalls of temporarily subduing one's emotional pain with alcohol, groaned inwardly. "So the guy's got some problems. Again, so what? It's not like I don't have any problems myself. Hell, anyone who is masochistic enough to allow Lecter into their head is bound to have problems. The point is, I'm drowning and I need help."
"And you think Graham will be your savior?" Seth chuckled slightly. "God, talk about a codependent relationship. Well, look on the bright side, if the two of you are able to catch the 'Good Doctor', maybe he could help you both overcome your chemical abuse problems." He laughed heartily at his own comment.
Clarice raised her middle finger at Seth and attempted to look outraged although he could see that she stifled a chuckle herself. Seth yawned and stretched his arms high over his head.
"It's getting late, Clarice," he said. "I better get home." He stood and made his way to her office door. He turned back. "Don't stay too late tonight, huh?" He grinned mischievously. "You do need your beauty sleep you know."
Clarice picked up her stapler and heaved it at her friend. "Kiss my ass, Seth," she laughed as the stapler struck him in the thigh.
Seth laughed back. "Anytime, love, just name the time and place!" He paused, still smiling. "Good night, Clarice."
"Good night, Seth."
He closed the door behind him as he walked out. Clarice grabbed her "stress ball", a small rubber hand ball that she would either squeeze to relieve stress or bounce against the wall repeatedly. The repetitive motion seemed to help her think. Now she began to bounce the ball on the floor. It would strike the floor, hit the wall, and bounce back to her. She repeated this as she mulled over her encounter with Will Graham.
Initially he had pissed her off royally by his indignant comments but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that he was simply afraid. And why shouldn't he be? Clarice chided herself, she had handled the whole situation incorrectly. Perhaps she should have been more understanding of his feelings and spoken more softly to him instead of storming out the door. Once again, she had let her temper and quick tongue get the best of her and instead of convincing him to help her, she had probably alienated him completely. Clarice shook her head, stopped bouncing the ball, and buried her head in her arms on her desk. Had she looked out the window at that moment, she might have noticed the elegantly dressed gentleman with black hair and strong arms leaning against a light pole across the street from the Bureau, smoking an expensive cigar, and looking up in the direction of her window.
Clarice Starling's visit caused Will to decide to use a glass tonight instead of just swigging straight from the bottle. He had decided he should cut down on drinking. He filled the glass half full of ice, looked at it, and dumped the ice out into the sink. He wasn't ready to cut down that much yet. He grabbed the Scotch bottle out of the cupboard and filled the glass full. As he placed the lid back on the bottle, he glanced at the case file sitting innocently on the couch, where Clarice had left it.
Sighing, Will placed the bottle back into the cupboard. With his drink he walked into the living room, sat down on his beat up recliner, took a long drink, and turned the TV on. As he flipped through the channels of the usual crap that was on TV these days, his eyes continued to dart to the case file on the couch.
"Stop it, dammit," he finally croaked to himself. "You told her you wouldn't help with the case. You're not going to open that file so stop torturing yourself."
After he had flipped through every TV channel four times, he made an exasperated noise and turned it off. He sat in his recliner and sipped his drink. His eyes darted again to the case file. It had been years since he'd actually seen Dr. Lecter or heard his voice but to Will it seemed like just yesterday. As if in response to his thoughts, his left side began to ache slightly. Will knew the pain was all in his head, several therapists had told him so, but he raised his tank top slightly anyway to view the jagged scar on the left side of his stomach. Will ran his right index finger slowly across the scar. He closed his eyes and the memory that filled his mind was Dr. Lecter plunging a stiletto knife into his stomach as he'd turned around. He had not even heard the doctor come back into the room. Will had stood in the doctor's study and had just realized that Lecter was in fact the killer he was looking for when he spun around and was surprised by the knife. He remembered Lecter's breath on his face, just as Clarice had said. He remembered Lecter calling him brave and saying he would eat Will's heart.
Will jerked his eyes open. He sighed shakily and ran a hand through his faded blonde hair. In the eight years that he had been back in Quantico, his hair had faded immensely in the dim sunlight and had almost faded to brown. He decided that his hair had grown too long for his taste and he decided to get it cut first thing in the morning. Will had originally returned to Quantico just after his divorce, thinking he would see if he could get a teaching position at the FBI training facility. His good intention of becoming gainfully employed and once again being a productive member of society had yet to be pursued.
'Think about it,' he heard Clarice say as she had walked out the door. Will glanced at the case file again. He was tempted to pick it up and rummage through it. Tempted to see what new info if any she had collected on the doctor. Tempted to try and assist. He put his drink down on the floor and nervously twiddled his fingers against the arm of the recliner as he contemplated the emotional and psychological damage those actions could inflict upon him.
Suddenly, Will shook his head. What was wrong with him? Why had Clarice's words had such an effect on him? He remembered how tired and drawn her face had been. He remembered her words, 'I have no where else to turn.' She needed his help. For the first time in seemingly forever, someone needed him.
He sighed shakily. It had indeed been a long time since he had last been needed or even wanted. And then, out of the blue, this federal agent shows up on his doorstep and asks for his help. This agent who reminded Will of himself in his heyday, this agent who understood Lecter as well if not better than Will did himself, this agent who recognized and understood Will's nightmares because of the 'Good Doctor'. Yes, he had to admit, this agent intrigued him immensely.
Will looked at the clock on the wall and saw that this was about the time he took his evening dose of pain medication. Will's medication of choice had become Percocet although recently he was becoming tempted to advance to something stronger, the Percocet wore off all too quickly now. He had been addicted to the medication for many years now although his doctor had quit prescribing it to him shortly after his initial hospital stay due to his incident with Francis Dolarhyde. However, thanks to his connections in the Bureau, Will had had no problem in tracking down a street dealer who was able to supply him with his needed medication.
Will's eyes again darted to the case file. Clarice needed him. She wanted him to help, but Will knew that to help meant becoming clean and making Dr. Hannibal Lecter a huge part of his life again, allowing the doctor free roam of his mind again. The sacrifice seemed almost too great just to be needed by someone again. The conflict within him was almost more than Will could bear.
Suddenly, his mind seemingly made up, he snatched his drink off the floor, stood up, and strode to his bedroom to retrieve his Percocet and take his usual dose. Then he paused in the doorway and turned back to look once more at the case file. In his mind, he heard Clarice say in her throaty Southern drawl, 'Either you'll help me or you won't.' He pondered the file for a moment then quickly swallowed the remainder of his drink. He set the glass down on the dresser that sat next to his bedroom door and walked on shaky legs back to the couch. Before he had time to consider the consequences of his actions, Will Graham pulled open the case file and delved back into the mind of madness.
To Be Continued. Please review!!
Mary: Thank you so much for your kind review, I'm so glad you are enjoying my story.
Nanci: Aww, thanks so much for the kudos for Chapter 3. I spent days pondering and then re-writing Clarice's exact final words to Graham and I'm so glad you appreciated them. Thanks again.
Nanci: I'm so touched that I was able to evoke that emotion in you on Chapter 4. Again, it was a chapter that I worked for about a week on to get Lecter's emotions the way I wanted to express them. Your reviews are so great, you have a way with words and review very nicely. Thanks so much.
Schrander: Thank you for reading and reviewing. I am the type of person who loves character development (which most movies don't have the time in which to delve into much unfortunately) and I'm glad that you found Clarice and Will true to their characters. Thank you.
Saavik: Thank you for your review. LOL, I agree completely, I cannot stand rare meat, it's absolutely disgusting. LOL!!! Again, thanks for reading and reviewing.
EyeSeeU: Well, they will not meet up for awhile yet but when they do, it'll be good! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it.
Take care everyone and I'll see you next chapter.
Chapter 5: Clarice's Realizations and Will's Decisions
Clarice Starling stormed into her office, threw her briefcase across the room, and slammed the door behind her. The briefcase hit the opposite wall with a 'crack' and fell to the floor. She had driven the thirty miles from Graham's home in Quantico, Virginia in about thirty minutes, committing countless traffic violations as she went. Clarice leaned against her office door with her arms folded across her chest and fumed for a moment over her encounter with Graham. Then she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the door for a moment. She re-opened them and turned to look out the window. One nice thing about having moved out of her basement office was the fact that she had a nice view now. Darkness was just settling over the city of Washington D.C., the red-orange glow of sunset fading into a deep purple-blue.
FBI Headquarters was practically deserted and Clarice was glad about that. She did her best work at night after everyone had departed for home and loved ones. She supposed this was a benefit to having no loved ones of her own waiting for her at home, she could work as late into the night as she wanted.
Clarice strode to the window and opened it. She leaned down, closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply the rich evening scents. For some reason night time was when she felt closest to Dr. Lecter, as if a bond was forged between them. At night it seemed she could almost sense where he was and all too often she felt he was near.
She heard the door to her office open and fearing it was her boss, Kendra "the Devil incarnate" Mitchell, Clarice put on the best smile she could muster. When she turned around, she saw Seth standing there instead. He returned her smile bleakly, closed the door to her office, and sat down in the chair facing the desk.
Seth was extremely curious about Will Graham. From everything he'd read and heard about the former agent, he was an odd man to work with; quiet, unassuming, often working through the night, but that he was an intellectually powerful man who had done his job in a way that no one else seemed quite capable of doing. Seth grinned. He sounded just like Clarice. He looked at her and realized she was watching him steadily.
"Well?" Seth asked.
"Well what?" Clarice retorted. "What are you doing here so late anyway? Don't you and Ardelia have a date?"
Seth grinned. "No, she cancelled. She had to work late." Clarice had introduced Ardelia to Seth and the two had hit it off from the beginning. They had been dating for several months now. "I was hoping you would come back here after your appointment." He paused. "What's he like?" Seth smiled. "Graham?"
Clarice rolled her eyes and turned to look out the window again. Her first impression of Graham was not good. He was foul, rude, and obviously had serious chemical dependency issues. But she could not deny the realization that was now staring her in the face. She looked back at Seth, who smiled expectantly.
Clarice shrugged her shoulders. "What's he like?" she echoed. "He's like me." She sighed again. "When I look at him, I see my future. At the rate I'm going, I see myself in 15 years." She shook her head slightly and placed it in her hands. "Oh God help me."
Seth's smile turned sympathetic as he watched his friend grieve at the vision of her future. "Is he gonna help you?"
She looked up at him, her fingers rubbing her temples. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I left the case file with him in hopes that he'll take a look at it at least. He wasn't very keen on the idea of delving back into the world of Dr. Lecter." Clarice managed a wan smile. "Can't say I blame him. We'll see. I don't know. So how pissed was the Devil incarnate when I left this afternoon?"
Seth winced. "Let's just say that if she had been able to get her claws into you, you'd be dead."
Clarice fumed. "She expects me to catch Lecter and yet she makes it almost impossible for me to do so. I swear to God, most of the time I feel as if I'm forced to operate with one hand tied behind my back. Dammit!" she exclaimed.
"Well, darlin', you did outright disregard her order to forget the whole Graham angle after he failed to show for the meeting."
"So I went to him instead of making him come to us. So what?" Clarice was outraged. "I need his help. I really think he could be of great use in Lecter's capture. But our boss doesn't seem to understand that."
"Kendra's concerned, Clarice. She doesn't think Graham is entirely stable. Some of the older agents say he's become an alcoholic and something of a drug addict," Seth replied. "Did you see any signs of chemical abuse?"
Clarice, who in recent years had come to know the pitfalls of temporarily subduing one's emotional pain with alcohol, groaned inwardly. "So the guy's got some problems. Again, so what? It's not like I don't have any problems myself. Hell, anyone who is masochistic enough to allow Lecter into their head is bound to have problems. The point is, I'm drowning and I need help."
"And you think Graham will be your savior?" Seth chuckled slightly. "God, talk about a codependent relationship. Well, look on the bright side, if the two of you are able to catch the 'Good Doctor', maybe he could help you both overcome your chemical abuse problems." He laughed heartily at his own comment.
Clarice raised her middle finger at Seth and attempted to look outraged although he could see that she stifled a chuckle herself. Seth yawned and stretched his arms high over his head.
"It's getting late, Clarice," he said. "I better get home." He stood and made his way to her office door. He turned back. "Don't stay too late tonight, huh?" He grinned mischievously. "You do need your beauty sleep you know."
Clarice picked up her stapler and heaved it at her friend. "Kiss my ass, Seth," she laughed as the stapler struck him in the thigh.
Seth laughed back. "Anytime, love, just name the time and place!" He paused, still smiling. "Good night, Clarice."
"Good night, Seth."
He closed the door behind him as he walked out. Clarice grabbed her "stress ball", a small rubber hand ball that she would either squeeze to relieve stress or bounce against the wall repeatedly. The repetitive motion seemed to help her think. Now she began to bounce the ball on the floor. It would strike the floor, hit the wall, and bounce back to her. She repeated this as she mulled over her encounter with Will Graham.
Initially he had pissed her off royally by his indignant comments but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that he was simply afraid. And why shouldn't he be? Clarice chided herself, she had handled the whole situation incorrectly. Perhaps she should have been more understanding of his feelings and spoken more softly to him instead of storming out the door. Once again, she had let her temper and quick tongue get the best of her and instead of convincing him to help her, she had probably alienated him completely. Clarice shook her head, stopped bouncing the ball, and buried her head in her arms on her desk. Had she looked out the window at that moment, she might have noticed the elegantly dressed gentleman with black hair and strong arms leaning against a light pole across the street from the Bureau, smoking an expensive cigar, and looking up in the direction of her window.
Clarice Starling's visit caused Will to decide to use a glass tonight instead of just swigging straight from the bottle. He had decided he should cut down on drinking. He filled the glass half full of ice, looked at it, and dumped the ice out into the sink. He wasn't ready to cut down that much yet. He grabbed the Scotch bottle out of the cupboard and filled the glass full. As he placed the lid back on the bottle, he glanced at the case file sitting innocently on the couch, where Clarice had left it.
Sighing, Will placed the bottle back into the cupboard. With his drink he walked into the living room, sat down on his beat up recliner, took a long drink, and turned the TV on. As he flipped through the channels of the usual crap that was on TV these days, his eyes continued to dart to the case file on the couch.
"Stop it, dammit," he finally croaked to himself. "You told her you wouldn't help with the case. You're not going to open that file so stop torturing yourself."
After he had flipped through every TV channel four times, he made an exasperated noise and turned it off. He sat in his recliner and sipped his drink. His eyes darted again to the case file. It had been years since he'd actually seen Dr. Lecter or heard his voice but to Will it seemed like just yesterday. As if in response to his thoughts, his left side began to ache slightly. Will knew the pain was all in his head, several therapists had told him so, but he raised his tank top slightly anyway to view the jagged scar on the left side of his stomach. Will ran his right index finger slowly across the scar. He closed his eyes and the memory that filled his mind was Dr. Lecter plunging a stiletto knife into his stomach as he'd turned around. He had not even heard the doctor come back into the room. Will had stood in the doctor's study and had just realized that Lecter was in fact the killer he was looking for when he spun around and was surprised by the knife. He remembered Lecter's breath on his face, just as Clarice had said. He remembered Lecter calling him brave and saying he would eat Will's heart.
Will jerked his eyes open. He sighed shakily and ran a hand through his faded blonde hair. In the eight years that he had been back in Quantico, his hair had faded immensely in the dim sunlight and had almost faded to brown. He decided that his hair had grown too long for his taste and he decided to get it cut first thing in the morning. Will had originally returned to Quantico just after his divorce, thinking he would see if he could get a teaching position at the FBI training facility. His good intention of becoming gainfully employed and once again being a productive member of society had yet to be pursued.
'Think about it,' he heard Clarice say as she had walked out the door. Will glanced at the case file again. He was tempted to pick it up and rummage through it. Tempted to see what new info if any she had collected on the doctor. Tempted to try and assist. He put his drink down on the floor and nervously twiddled his fingers against the arm of the recliner as he contemplated the emotional and psychological damage those actions could inflict upon him.
Suddenly, Will shook his head. What was wrong with him? Why had Clarice's words had such an effect on him? He remembered how tired and drawn her face had been. He remembered her words, 'I have no where else to turn.' She needed his help. For the first time in seemingly forever, someone needed him.
He sighed shakily. It had indeed been a long time since he had last been needed or even wanted. And then, out of the blue, this federal agent shows up on his doorstep and asks for his help. This agent who reminded Will of himself in his heyday, this agent who understood Lecter as well if not better than Will did himself, this agent who recognized and understood Will's nightmares because of the 'Good Doctor'. Yes, he had to admit, this agent intrigued him immensely.
Will looked at the clock on the wall and saw that this was about the time he took his evening dose of pain medication. Will's medication of choice had become Percocet although recently he was becoming tempted to advance to something stronger, the Percocet wore off all too quickly now. He had been addicted to the medication for many years now although his doctor had quit prescribing it to him shortly after his initial hospital stay due to his incident with Francis Dolarhyde. However, thanks to his connections in the Bureau, Will had had no problem in tracking down a street dealer who was able to supply him with his needed medication.
Will's eyes again darted to the case file. Clarice needed him. She wanted him to help, but Will knew that to help meant becoming clean and making Dr. Hannibal Lecter a huge part of his life again, allowing the doctor free roam of his mind again. The sacrifice seemed almost too great just to be needed by someone again. The conflict within him was almost more than Will could bear.
Suddenly, his mind seemingly made up, he snatched his drink off the floor, stood up, and strode to his bedroom to retrieve his Percocet and take his usual dose. Then he paused in the doorway and turned back to look once more at the case file. In his mind, he heard Clarice say in her throaty Southern drawl, 'Either you'll help me or you won't.' He pondered the file for a moment then quickly swallowed the remainder of his drink. He set the glass down on the dresser that sat next to his bedroom door and walked on shaky legs back to the couch. Before he had time to consider the consequences of his actions, Will Graham pulled open the case file and delved back into the mind of madness.
To Be Continued. Please review!!
Mary: Thank you so much for your kind review, I'm so glad you are enjoying my story.
Nanci: Aww, thanks so much for the kudos for Chapter 3. I spent days pondering and then re-writing Clarice's exact final words to Graham and I'm so glad you appreciated them. Thanks again.
Nanci: I'm so touched that I was able to evoke that emotion in you on Chapter 4. Again, it was a chapter that I worked for about a week on to get Lecter's emotions the way I wanted to express them. Your reviews are so great, you have a way with words and review very nicely. Thanks so much.
Schrander: Thank you for reading and reviewing. I am the type of person who loves character development (which most movies don't have the time in which to delve into much unfortunately) and I'm glad that you found Clarice and Will true to their characters. Thank you.
Saavik: Thank you for your review. LOL, I agree completely, I cannot stand rare meat, it's absolutely disgusting. LOL!!! Again, thanks for reading and reviewing.
EyeSeeU: Well, they will not meet up for awhile yet but when they do, it'll be good! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it.
Take care everyone and I'll see you next chapter.
