A/N: I only own the idea
The walk out of the airport and to the car had been a quiet one. For Clarice, she used the silence to recompose herself. Her admission of love had tumbled out of her much like a droplet of water. Once she had started she could not have stopped herself even if she had wanted too. The confession had left her feeling overexposed and vulnerable. A small part of her wished she had held her tongue. Circumstances should have been better for such a revelation. Sighing she mentally shook her head, done was done now, all that was left was to move forward. Wishing she knew where that meant she picked up her pace.
Hannibal had held himself as calm as ever. On the outside he gave little away. If she had not seen his face on the plane Clarice wouldn't have known anything was amiss. Still feeling the sting of his attempt to deceive her she tried to avoid looking at him. To her eyes he was like a magnet however, and she found herself often glancing in his direction.
When they finally reached the car he had went to come around to open her door. Always the gentleman this small gesture made her feel important to him. Today, however, she didn't want to play the game of appearances. Shaking her head at him she stopped him before he could come around. To have him that close to her now would be too much. Uncertain if she wanted to hold him and sob or shake him and scream, she thought it best to just keep her distance. Opening and closing the door herself she waited for him to start the car. He did not.
"It appears I have broken the rose coloured glasses you have viewed me through, my dear. Do you wish to still look? I want to show you what's left of my home, but I feel it would be pointless to do so if you're angry. The drive will be a few hours still, but I need you to advise me what you would like to do. I am at your mercy Clarice, take note as you are the only person I will ever say those words to. I fear I have broken whatever threads you have been trying to string between us, and for that no amount of apology will suffice. If you wish to find a hotel we can, just say the word."
Why couldn't he just shut up and drive? Why did he always turn to her for answers? Frustrated with the tears she could feel rolling down her face she shook her head. From the corner of her eye she saw him run his hands over his face. Was it out of agitation? When she heard his car door open and close she thought he was walking away from her. Unable to watch him walk away she closed her eyes, annoyed with the tears that squeezed from under her lashes.
When her door opened she still did not open her eyes. Cold air on her face attempted to dry her tears but they fell to fast. When he touched her face to wipe them away she still refused to open them, if she looked at him she would be angry, she knew it from how her blood hummed in her vanes.
"Is this how it feels when someone shuts you out?" His words were very quiet as he tucked the hair the wind had freed back behind her ear. "I can see why it bothers you so. Is it to show me how it feels, or is it something else entirely? You're not a open book to me Clarice. I do not know the answers. Are you angry? I can handle your anger, if it will end your pain. That I can not handle. Whatever you need, my dear, take from me now to stop these tears." Again his hand brushed more from her cheeks. Angrily she swatted it off, opening her eyes.
When she looked at him she had wanted to scream at him. To yell and hit and tantrum like a child. It surprised her when a sob escaped her instead. "You," she stammered, "it hurts. Why would you?" When she saw him close his eyes and hang his head her cries cut off her words. How could she be so angry and want to pull him close at the same time?
When he spoke next he did not lift his head. "I'm sorry. I made a mistake and had I known you would be this upset by it I would never have..."
She grabbed him hard then, digging her nails in to his arms. He did not protest. "What if it worked? Would you have changed all the things you don't like about me? When you were finished would there even have been any of me left? Is it because I'm not good enough? Why would you pretend I was when you have just been waiting to make me in to what you want? Why would you do that to me? Damn it Hannibal! I would never change you, not in a thousand years!"
"Nor would I," his words were rough with emotions he struggled to contain. "Is it difficult for you to imagine that in this instance I did not think past the immediate? Panic causes the mind to become unclear. I had only meant for you to not see what's left. It hurts me, and like anyone, I do not walk easily in to a open flame. I was, I am afraid to see it again, to have it all resurface. I'm sorry I hurt you, my dear, my emotions, that you think I control so well, they got the better of me."
When she realized her nails were drawing blood she let go, immediately guilt replaced anger. "I didn't mean to..." but he silenced her words with the shake of his head. Not able to find any more words she pulled him closer. While he knelt beside her open car door her lips kissed every mark she had left on him. When she was finished she lifted her head and placed her hands on either side of his face.
This was not the gentle touch of a lover. As she stared in to him she watched him flinch as she squeezed. When her bones began to thrum with his heartbeat she thought he would pull back. He did not. His eyes held hers as firmly as her hands held his face. Shaking her head she released the pressure, her words coming out as both a plea and a warning. "Never again."
As he looked at her from his knees he nodded, lacking the right words. In that moment Hannibal knew he would never betray her again. He had no doubts that if he were to do so she would walk away. That was something he would not allow to happen.
Swallowing to gather himself he had went to get up. Her hands now gentle on his face had stopped him. Guilt in her eyes, uncertainty of her actions. Memories from that morning reminded him he was now no stranger to these feelings. Touching her wrist softly he stilled her hands. "I am ok, I understand. Where are we going now?"
Letting her hands fall from his face she watched as he stood and brushed off the knees of his pants. As he closed her door and made his way back to the drivers side the realization that he was no longer holding back hit her. Feeling a mixture of fear and anticipation for what was to come, she looked over at him as he settled himself beside her. "If you're ready, I would like to see your home now." When he started the car and nodded his head she wondered if someone could ever be ready to step on hot coals.