Psychoanalyze My Deductions.

By: Colvin

Chapter Two: Hannibal: Remind Me Again

Okay, now i wasn't no Harrison Ford or even a Christian Bale, (I should have gotten that part in American Psycho, not him. It's what i do.) but i felt i had a net worth of at least forty million so i was more than welcomed to let myself in. Waiting wasn't something i did. I was a meaning more complex than waiting. I believe i deserved utmost respect even for the little accomplishments i've made so far. Not the whole cater to my every whim but don't make me wait kinda of thing. I was above that.

Hannibal wasn't late, per-say, he just took his good ol' time coming to that door to let me in. I could tell most of the time he prayed i canceled. Or one day, a day that wouldn't come soon enough, i'd end up in the nut-house renouncing my dead father's name. He hated being my therapist, he hated knowing that he couldn't escape me. Send me off to an asylum to rot away in my world of sarcastic happiness and ass-backward attitude. That was a dream to him. Instead he was stuck trying to uncover, treat and cure what possibly could be going on in this funny little head of mine. Mentor me.

Don't think I made it easy for the man, that's no fun. I liked playing games as much as him. I liked being the cat who chases the mouse while he was the dog who chases me. I enjoyed acting and so did he. Hannibal played the part of my concern psychiatrist and i was the patient with more problems than our American nation. We both played our role rather well and i gave him kudos when he tried to involve me in psychoanalyzed exercises. I could tell him and i were in the right field of work. We did our jobs all too well.

Our relationship was something a little more than doctor-patient. It was hard to put a label on, apparently. I liked calling it a "father with a annoying, bratty child" kind of thing. But he often turned that into a reflection of how i desire a father figure and i sought him out to be one. No, i just found pleasure in pushing his buttons and watching his mental composer collapse as he held back the urge to break my neck. One the other hand, Hannibal saw our relationship as a taunting tease. I was a tranquil, little orphaned deer walking freely in a thick forest lining he targeted, hunted and attacked to kill. Nevertheless, i got away. As the saying goes; "If you don't succeed the first time, try, try again." Poor thing gave up to easy. And it wasn't because i didn't oppose a big enough threat or the game was too hard, he was distracted.

Will Graham. Damn that man. I've known Hannibal Lecter for years longer and i was still second best. Hannibal devoted most of his time in that guy and would even go as far as rescheduling our sessions to help Will. So what the guy could get inside the heads of killers. I could get in the mindset of a murderer too as i played the part of one in a big screen Hollywood film that would earn me millions. Same thing. But that didn't matter to Hannibal, he was still preoccupied with Will. The way his face froze, broke and brightened as i said his name i could see the affect he had. I didn't like it, at all.

Going back to my "father with a annoying, bratty child" theory, i can say outside the humors pretense, it made sense. Will and i were his children. William was older than me by many years but to Hannibal he was the baby. The center of attention, the new toy and my competition for noticment. He metaphorically told me to grow up and play the part of 'big brother' nonetheless my pouting face and actions said otherwise. You could say sometimes i got a bit dramatic with myself. Putting emotions into the words i spoke and meaning in my steps. Which is why acting was a perfect choice for me. Conversely, what that meant to Hannibal was he carried more stress on his shoulders. God, you should see his face when i threaten Will's life. It was a game of fierce glares until i broke into laughter, assuring him it was merely child's play. Of course, we both knew i meant some of it. Waiting and fighting for attention wasn't something i did. Certainly not with that psychotic mentally unstable mutt Will. Hannibal was an aristocrat. A man of purity, riches and divine living and thankfully i could easily conform to such hypocrisy. I was born into the family while Mr. Graham was hardly welcomed. I was annoying and i was bratty. A child. His Child.

This room had too many shades of red, black and gray. Dull. Oh, i know it's to portray the composite sophisticated representation of Hannibal Lecter and his kind of therapy he offered but damn. It was so organized. Books placed straight, neat and well taken care of on mountains of shelves. A desk in the middle of the room, blank paper laying on top of it. Hannibal enjoyed drawing. He was pretty good at it too. Then just inches away the area where we sat face to face talking about staged memories and false interpretations. I found it hard to stay in one place, so, this time i choose the top of his office. You needed a ladder to get up there. I always thought it was a stupid idea.

But sitting above it all with my legs swinging careless i looked over it. Seeming like it was the first time in a thousands times. I was twenty minutes early, i'd been sitting here for about five and i was already getting annoyed. His attempt to be earlier than me failed.

I was just about to get up and leave before out of the corner of my eye i saw Hannibal appear under me. Probably from the back door. He walked tall over to the door wearing his normal million dollar face and suit. His hair combed attentively over. I waited for him to approach the door, open it and look around for me.

"Don't mind if i do." I called out to him.

He almost jumped at the sound of my voice. Freezing in place letting out a loud sigh.

"I thought i told you not come into my office uninvited." He turned to me, closing the door behind him slowly.

"You tell me a lot of things," I swung my legs around, "so i doubt i was listening when you said that."

"Obviously."

He took a seat in his usual spot. Crossing one leg over the other, hands, prayer style. Looking at me like a God. I never understood how he could stay in one stop for over five minutes without the feeling of gravity weighing you down to nothing and bugs crawling all over you. It's impossible.

"Each appointment you seem to arrive earlier than the last. Why is that?"

"Maybe i'm just excited to see you Doctor Lecter." I said with a mischievous smile on my face.

"That's your reason?"

"It's reason enough."

He shifted a bit in his seat. Already i could see the pinch of anger blink like a traffic light in him. I didn't set out to piss him off each appointment, it just kind of happen on account of my cocky attitude. But since i knew there was no way of avoiding it i made the best of it.

"How are you doing?" Hannibal said more than asked. He didn't really care.

"Do we have to start every appointment out with "how are you doing"? It's boring."

"It's procedure."

"It's dumb. Try again." I shot back quickly as I waved my hand around.

He sighed, "How's the movie coming along?"

"Now that better!" I yelped, "It's fan-fucking-tastic. They currently have me stationed in Chicago. The Windy City. The food is terrible and it literally smells like shit. Anyways we've recently started filming and i'm seconds from taking the director's head off. My attraction toward Kristen isn't believable. OF COURSE NOT! She looks like a horse," I gripped the bars above me, "I just wanna stove carrots down her throat and watch her choke."

He refrained from smiling, "But you were so ecstatic when you first started?"

"I was! But looking around at who i have to work with i feel like i'm at a petting zoo."

I stood up and began to pace against the railing that stopped me from falling to Hannibal's level. Distressing myself with firming and my co workers. I swear i could kill them all but where would the fun in that be?

"You stated in our last appointment that this film would boost your success."

"And it will! Of course. My character is what every idiotic American girl beats off to. I just wish that moment would come sooner than later."

"Good things come to those who wait."

I stopped walking. Turning around to Hannibal.

"Now Doctor, we both know i'm above waiting. ...Posh."

"You classify yourself as posh?"

"Classify? No! I am the fucking meaning of posh."

"Your erotic vocabulary may say other wise, James."

Hannibal's breathing was so calm, practiced and controlled. Like he knew how much to inhale, exhale and inhale again. Not only was his breathing serene, but his body was as well. It weightlessly sat in the chair, hugging every part. I envied his impression. My mind ran a million miles a second and my body always tried to keep up. I couldn't look like him even if i tried.

"It's self expression." I muttered more to myself than him.

"You really aren't happy with your work environment? Is that why you had an episode last week?"

What Hannibal means by 'episode' is actually different than what he thinks it means. He thinks when i have an episode it's the point in which my nerves and patients reach it's peak. My blood pressure shoots through the roof and vexation courses floods my brain. I lose control of myself screaming, crying and attempting to hurt myself or others. But the other definition of an episode is when my father's voice pounds endlessly in my brain to the point in which i go mad. I could never tell Hannibal that though, he'd report me and have me placed in an asylum. That's what he wants. So yes, i did have an episode last week at work. You see, i'm chaos. A complete mess on the inside and when my external environment starts to become identical to myself i lose it. I reenact what is going on inside me. They could label me as dangerous, cut me from the part but i'm too expensive to replace. Fuck them.

"I'm not a patron of the world's chaos."

"Have they treated you differently?"

I laughed, "No. If they drop me, they'll wake up seeing nothing but darkness!"

Hannibal cocked his head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"I'll feed their eyes to my dog."

Even though i was higher, and farther than Hannibal i could tell he had a meek smile on his face. He was loving what was coming out of my mouth. No Saint, he was.

"You love it when i talk dirty." I chuckled.

"It's creative." He said simply put.

I shrugged and began to make my way down the ladder to Hannibal. Once my feet touched the ground i swiftly turned around and marched my way over to the spot where patients normally sat. I threw myself in the chair, feeling my hair struggle to maintain it's shape. I valued my hair more than my expensive cars.

"Remind me again. Why did i hire you as my therapist?" I leaned in towards him.

He hesitated, sighing with aggravation, "...Because two years ago you had an episode in the middle of the set and before the lights could turn back on three people were dead and four injured."

"And how did i get away with it?" I could feel the mighty wick smiled spread like butter on my face.

"You were one of the victims."

"Beautiful!" I yelled, "Well practiced! Daddy would be so proud of you, you teach me so well."

"It isn't by choice."

I puffed out my lips, "Now, that's no way to talk. My father found you to be absolutely beneficial in helping me find my inter mastermind."

"It's quite a show."

"Everyone is hungry for a bit of attention Doctor Lecter."

He bit his lip at my reference. Swallowing the beast inside him. Pacing, stalking and beyond pissed off he did his best to remain composed. I loved picking at him. Ticking like a clock. Time passed.

"You should invite me over for dinner." My voice said deeply.

"Exposing you to my culture isn't part of my job. Your father made it quite clear of my position."

"Since when do you follow the rules? You've never cooked me anything."

"And it will continue to stay that way as long as i'm your therapist."

"You suck." I sighed, slugging myself into the chair.

-End.

James is such a child. But there's chapter two for you, a hint at what Hannibal and James's relationship look like. Hope you liked it, let me know Reviews! Favorite, follow please! Next chapter is back to Sherlock, we'll get a better look at him. Thanks for the support so far guy! love you ^^

BTW: Yes, James knows Hannibal is a killer and eats people. That's what makes their relationship interesting.