As Amelia sprinted up to her apartment and slammed the door shut behind her, she felt her mental faculties begin to shut down. She crashed on the couch, muffling a scream with a throw pillow. She didn't know what to do with herself.
I KILLED a man!
Her logical side reminded her that the man was a murderer and deserved what happened.
But the humane side of her starkly tutted that she violated the most basic of morals. She didn't know which reasoning to believe.
She began to grow even more frustrated, her self-control quickly waning. She swiped everything off any fear surface she could reach; dishes, lamps, knickknacks all shattering loudly.
The emotional exhaustion overtook her and she slumped to her bed, not even bothering to take off her shoes, and swaddled herself tightly into her comforter. Her eyelids began to grow heavy and her heavy breaths abated.
Only one thought calmed her. Hannibal's face popping into her mind.
I saved him…
And she was out like a light.
When she woke up it was twilight outside. Her phone began to ring, jolting her awake.
"Hello?"
"How are you feeling, Amelia?," Hannibal's voice sounded.
"Not too well. I had a breakdown when I got home and my apartment is pretty messy. I just woke up from a long nap."
"It's good to rest after what happened this afternoon. Your body and mind need to recuperate. Do you still feel up to coming over and talking about it?"
"It's probably a good idea. When would you like me to show up?"
"Anytime. It's the least I could do after you quite literally saved my life."
Amelia could almost muster up a feeling of pride.
"I'll be over in half an hour."
"Excellent. I'll see you then."
"Goodbye, Hannibal."
Amelia still felt like a train wreck, but she figured talking things out with Hannibal would do her some good. She changed into more casual clothes, throwing her blood-stained work ensemble into the trash can; hopefully being one less reminder of what had transpired. She didn't even bother putting on makeup or primping, wanting to just get out for a bit. She barely had the energy to hop into a quick shower.
She took her time driving to his house, periodically becoming dazed at stop signs until someone would sound their horn for her to move. As she pulled into the driveway, she let out a deep breath and got out, seeing Hannibal's silhouette standing inside the door ready to welcome her in.
She strode up the sidewalk, reaching the door quickly. She didn't even have to knock.
"Hello, Amelia."
"Good evening, Hannibal."
Hannibal moved to let her inside, taking in her appearance as she walked past him. She had obviously been asleep for some time; her eyes were still slightly bloodshot and puffy, and her expression was one of exhaustion. The smallest hint of the tangy, metallic smell of blood was on her still as well, indicating she got ready in a hurry.
"How are you feeling?"
"I don't think I can really give you an accurate answer. Guilt, shame, vindication, too many emotions to process at once."
"That's normal. In doing an act of heroism you also did something that goes against human nature."
"I'm so glad you understand."
Hannibal motioned to the kitchen where she took her usual seat at the island.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Amelia. You made it possible for a hardened criminal to be apprehended by the authorities and saved both of our lives. You made a difference in several people's lives today."
"You almost make me sound like a saint," she scoffed incredulously.
"It's thanks to you that I'm alive. To me, you are a saint."
Amelia couldn't help the preening feeling that resulted from his praise.
"I know you would have done the same for me."
"That I would have."
They tenderly, but briefly, gazed at each other until a timer went off. Hannibal turned his attention to the oven. Whatever he plucked out smelt heavenly.
As he sat the tray down in between them, she turned her attention to the simmering skillet on the burner.
"You really didn't have to go through all this trouble."
"I know, but I wanted to. Besides, I've found sharing a meal with friends always eases the stress of the day."
"What are we having?"
"We will be dining on lung braised in cabernet sauvignon with vinaigrette sauce accompanied by roasted sweet potatoes and green beans with bearnaise sauce."
"Wow… Thank you so much for the feast Hannibal."
"It's the least I could do. Why don't you go sit and I'll bring everything out."
"Don't you want help?"
"I've got everything handled here. Go sit and relax," he shooed her away.
She went to the table and took her place across from where he would be sitting.
As soon as she was out of his sight, he crushed a small bit of a mild sedative and slipped it into her wine glass.
He walked out casually as if nothing were out of the ordinary. He sat her plate in front of her, keeping her wine glass close to him; he popped a bottle of wine open and poured her a fairly generous amount of rosé.
She thanked him and took a light slip.
He retrieved his plate and joined her. The sedative was already beginning to visibly mellow her out. She looked more at ease and comfortable.
"So… How was your day after I went home?"
"Probably the same as yours. I came home and tried to relax. Although the eagerness of seeing you made it all the more difficult."
Amelia's body began to overheat. While she felt tenderly towards Will, Hannibal excited her like no other person she'd ever met. His charisma, his elegance… It was only natural she would be attracted to him. She didn't want to make the same mistake she made with Will though; rushing into a romance then having to put an end to it for Abigail's sake.
"Ever the charmer," she complimented quietly, taking another sip of her wine.
Hannibal simply laid back in his chair and watched the drugs he secretly administered take effect. She began to get quite chatty before the crash.
"You really are one of the most charming, kind, gracious people I've ever met. How you can be so calm and relaxed after the day we've had, I'll never know; but you handle yourself with such poise one would never think you witnessed a murder today. Or been a victim of assault for that matter. I really admire the way you're so calm and collected. Unlike me… I tend to be quite cowardly and afraid. You know when I went to identify my mom's and Garrett's bodies, I had such a fear of seeing him post mortem. Then the sadness I felt for my mom passed like nothing and it was just pure anger and hate for "him"."
"It's a natural reaction to that type of stress. He was the culprit behind your family tragedy and you got to face him with no chance of rebuttal or resistance; you were free to release your anger. As for me being "calm and collected," I had the worst thing that could happen to a child take place; I've learned to cope with it and put it on the back burner. Of course, that's not to say I haven't developed some… quirks as a result of it."
"I hope one day to be as poised as you. Until then I suppose I'll have to learn my own way of coping and letting go," she sighed.
"In the end, life is an act of letting go. The time until then is precious and shouldn't be squandered. We're given so little time to enjoy it, and to let other people ruin it for us is simply unacceptable," Hannibal explained, taking a bite off his plate and closing his eyes to savor it.
Amelia had been nibbling off her plate as she listened to him validate her emotions, but watching his lips and tongue as he spoke his last line with the manner of nobility demanded her attention; her eyes stayed trained on his face with pinpoint accuracy.
They finished up their meal and took the dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Amelia stood at the sink as Hannibal put away leftovers.
Hannibal looked to her to see she was beginning to sway slightly. He walked up behind her and reached his arms around hers to help her scrub the last bits of food off their plates when he felt her stiffen. They looked at each other; Hannibal could see she was drifting in and out of dozing off.
"Hannibal?," she asked barely above a whisper.
"Yes, darling?"
"I… I would very much like to kiss you."
Hannibal could barely contain his pleased smirk as he slowly closed the gap between them.
Just as their lips were about to make contact, Amelia slumped against his shoulder with a light snore. Hannibal let out a slightly annoyed scowl, but when he looked to her face to see her so peaceful his mood lightened.
He scooped her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs to a guest bedroom. He scooted the sheets and duvet down enough to fit her under then took her shoes off. He pulled the covers over her snuggly then ran a hand over her hair and down her cheek.
Soon, Amelia. Soon.
He shut the door quietly and got ready for bed himself, his last thought being how much he wanted Amelia next to him rather than a room away.
Amelia awoke to soft rays of sun across her face. She snuggled down into the bed, realizing that she was not in her own room. She looked around at the chic white interior and came to the conclusion she passed out after dinner with Hannibal.
She rose up and slipped her shoes back on then made the bed. She listened to see if Hannibal was awake, and sure enough she heard sizzling coming from the kitchen.
She lightly padded down the stairs and walked through the doorway to see he was frying up eggs and bacon with an array of fresh fruit laid out as well.
"Good morning," Hannibal said pleasantly, not even needing to turn around.
"Good morning," she replied, taking a seat at the counter, "would you like any help?"
"No, I've got everything under control. How did you sleep?," Hannibal asked, sprinkling salt and pepper into the pan.
"Like a log. I can't remember the last time I slept that deeply."
Hannibal couldn't help the mischievous twitch of his mouth into a smirk as he continued working.
"Thank you for letting me stay the night. And carrying me to bed."
"My pleasure, my dear."
Hannibal dished up their food and slid her food to her, taking the seat next to her.
"I assume we're off work for a few days until the office is presentable again."
"You would be correct. We also need some time to come to terms with what happened."
"Of course. What do you plan to do with our time off?"
"I think a hunting trip might be in order."
"I've always wanted to try hunting, but never had a desire to go with Garrett. How do you find it?"
"It's… exhilarating to say the least. I put my own spin on it. I would invite you, but I don't think you're quite prepared for the hunt I have in mind."
"I suppose not. Probably best to take baby steps since I have no experience."
Hannibal hummed in agreement.
If only you knew the training I have in store for you.
Amelia noticed Hannibal's eyes began to take on a maroon shade after she mentioned joining him.
As she concentrated, she could almost swear she could see his skin begin to change from its light tan color to pitch black and leathery. She shook her head and the seeming transformation halted.
"Amelia, are you okay?"
"Yes, sorry, I just started dazing. We'll, if you find yourself in need of company, my door is always open."
"I appreciate that. Mine is always open to you as well."
"If you're not busy later, you're welcome to come over for dinner. It won't be anything fancy, but I do make a mean lasagna."
"I would really like that, darling; I, unfortunately, have already made plans tonight."
"Oh," she replied with disappointment, "another time, then."
"Of course," he assured her.
"Maybe I'll go and visit Abby. It feels like forever since I've seen her."
"I'm sure she'll be happy to see you."
"I'm going to get going then. Thank you for your hospitality, Hannibal; I deeply appreciate it," she thanked him earnestly, both walking to the door.
"My pleasure, as always. I'll take you up on your invitation soon," Hannibal spoke as she slipped her shoes on.
"Excellent. I'll see you soon," she stepped forward and gave him a light kiss on the cheek, "Goodbye."
She flashed him a smile as she turned and walked out the door.
Hannibal watched her through the glass panel as she walked down his porch and to her car. She turned the ignition on and caught his eye. She gave him a wave and went on her way.
Hannibal stayed in the same spot as he began to think.
Poor Amelia. It's going to hurt me more than it hurts you what we will have to go through to be together; with none of Jack Crawford's bloodhounds or plots to catch the Ripper tailing us. But then… it will just be you, me, and Abigail. You will be my family; my second chance at one.
Mischa's striking blue eyes and blonde ringlets flashed through his mind. Then his mother, Simonetta, and her sweet soft-spoken nature. He didn't care to admit it, but his heartstrings were tugging much more these days.