EMILIA'S INVASION

Hannibal's hands remained in place until the baby within Clarice moved against his hand.

Well hello little one. You came along just in time.

Hannibal's eyelids slowly closed as he rested his head atop Clarice's deeply inhaling the almond scent of her shampoo. He calmed.

"H…?" Clarice questioned as she reached back for her husband.

Hannibal was currently entertaining himself with a particular theory involving wave-partical duality of matter and energy. He was considering Schrodinger's Cat. He was in the process of also measuring the size of his wife's belly by utilizing the span of his hand. He did not consider how loaded the next series of questions were or he might have attended to the answers with more care.

"Yes Clarice?"

"Is everything okay? Are you in any pain?"

Still, he was not clueing in to her line of questioning, "No. Why do you ask?"

Distracted with the variety of topics and sensory experiences swirling around him Hannibal ignored the questioning and continued to breathe deeply, inhaling her scent. He wanted to remember this Clarice. After the child's birth, her previous scent would return as her hormones would shift once again. Hannibal was uncertain as to Clarice's intentions. He wondered if she would want more children. He decided that soon he would ask.

"You seem…preoccupied…not present."

He was now occupying himself with a curl of her hair that had strayed and now tickled his nose.

"I apologize…know that it is no reflection on you."

Clarice rolled within his embrace to face him. She spoke quietly, wanting to ask a sensitive question she approached tentatively, "It didn't feel as if you…you know."

"Would that alter the experience for you had I not?"

"Hell yes."

"It didn't occur to me that it would. I'll make more of an effort in future."

Clarice pulled away and sat up quickly, her eyes reflected her shock.

"Making love to me shouldn't require effort!" she insisted with no small degree of hurt in her voice.

Hannibal's eyes reflected his confusion.

"It amazes me that as articulate a man as I am, when I am with you…I find exactly the right time to say precisely the wrong thing…I never meant to…never mind."

Hannibal rolled onto his back and crossed his forearms over his face.

Seeing his distress Clarice reached up and separated his arms just slightly peeking through the opening. Teasing, "Hey…sorry."

"Me too," he managed as he curled against her body.

She snuggled up against him, "Wanna talk?"

Hannibal's answer was direct. He would not be discussing this with Clarice. She would not understand. She was both perceptive and intuitive and Hannibal had been surprised that she had not asked him what he was wearing when Emilia was killed. The scrub pants were on the floor of the shower soaked. Had he removed them when Emilia was post mortem they would have been on the floor of the bathroom, not within the shower itself. Best to avoid the topic altogether. "No."

Clarice teased her index finger along his lips tracing the outline, "Why."

Christ Clarice, leave it alone. Hannibal thought to himself though he was intelligent enough not to support the thought with his voice. Instead, diplomatically, "Because it is not a coping mechanism that suits my personality, nor does it fulfill my needs."

Clarice swung her hips over his, "I bet I can figure out a way to fulfill your needs if you're up for it."

"If you would allow me a moment…I can probably arrange that."

Clarice leaned over Hannibal, her hair forming a curtain around his head as she bent to kiss him. He smiled as the baby, not as thrilled as they with the position, kicked against her womb. Hannibal's belly twitched from the contact.

"Did you feel that, H?"

"Yes, I felt it quite intensely."

Hannibal reached for her shoulders and pulled Clarice against him holding her tightly to him.

He reached for my body, not my breasts or my lips. He doesn't want to make love.

Hannibal wanted contact with her body, his injuries no where near as intrusive as the emotional trauma of the event. He wasn't all that interested in sex.

Knowing that he was far more aggressive when libidinous his docility cued her to his need for contact not congress. Clarice offered him a quick out, "How about if we hop in the shower and just get in bed and cuddle up. I can catch up with you later."

She rose from him, stepped back and allowed him to stand. Clarice walked toward the master bathroom pausing in the doorway, she glanced playfully over her shoulder, "C'mon handsome…I'll soap you up and rinse you down like a stallion."

Hannibal laughed, "Stallion? Is that all the good I am to you? Am I to be used primarily for stud purposes then?"

"That's what they do with old thoroughbreds; it's better that than glue."

"Of that I have no doubt." he smiled.

Clarice turned on the water and hopped into the shower. She opened her arms to her husband.

Hannibal went to her and taking a knee he bowed before her, reached his arms around her waist and held her tightly. He rested his head on her belly. Clarice reached for the soap and began to work a thick lather over his muscles. He groaned his satisfaction as she grasped the deep tissues and alternately rolled the heel of her palm over him.

"How's that workin' for you H?"

"Your hands are magic, Clarice."

Hannibal stood and began to work the same muscles on his wife's body. As he grasped the deltoids a window opened in his mind and an intrusive sense of danger crept in. He leaned against Clarice. She sensed a slight shift in his demeanor but chose to say nothing. He gripped her muscles with unbearable strength.

Clarice pulled Hannibal against her reining him in an attempt to shift his hands which were applying far more pressure than she found pleasurable or desirable. He shifted with her body and leaned a thigh forward effectively blocking her into the corner of the shower. He pressed himself against her and leaned the full weight of his body toward her.

Clarice didn't sense that he was trying to hurt her. Quite the contrary, he was obviously aroused by the game in which he was the only willing participant. A sinister snarl escaped his lips as he moved against Clarice and began to bite at her neck.

Flashes of the Emilia running through his memory palace banging on the doors trying to breach the room labeled, MY FAMILY. Protector pursued searching, chasing the Shade as she covered and lurked and hid in the shadows. Protector raged. You will not breach this door!

As Protector pursued, Hannibal reflected on just how much he had enjoyed her death much like a gift someone might give themselves. She was his reward for following the rules. Her death would never be questioned. In this instance, Victim was how Hannibal wished to be perceived. As Emilia's victim he had the right to protect himself. He had the right to kill to defend, to take a life that had attempted to take his own life. Hannibal allowed himself to relive the feeling he had when he crushed the life from Emilia.

You cannot hurt me and I will not let you hurt my family.

Hannibal grasped for Emilia's shoulders not realizing he had just pulled Clarice against him. He squeezed tightly, she squirmed against the vice-like pressure.

"You're hurting me." H! Stop!"

Hearing Clarice's voice, still believing he had Emilia in his grasp, Hannibal twisted his body to move Emilia away from Clarice. This forced his confused wife at an awkward angle. Normally she would have been irritated as she believed he was not going to injure her. She might even have tolerated his aggression if she believed it was arousing him but not while she was pregnant. Attributing her trepidation to her hormone levels she believed that her pregnancy made his aggression seem to her as more a threat than she would normally have perceived.

"H, I know you are just fucking around but you're getting on my last goddamned nerve so cut it out or you're going to eat a knee…" she warned meaning every word, "…and you're not going to like where I aim."

Hannibal growled against her throat as he imagined with lascivious delight the moment he twisted Emilia's neck. Lost in his memories he could hear the pop of the bursa as he spun the vertebrae. He felt her body twitching with what he told himself was her final moment of ecstasy.

He had not placed that memory or the death of Nico in any specific room of his memory palace. He didn't want the memory of his captivity. He did not wish to revisit his torment and had hoped to discard the events by ignoring them.

He surged toward Clarice as he had surged toward Emilia truly reliving the moment.

Clarice was fed up. She lifted her knee and aimed for his groin. When she made contact, Hannibal dropped back against the tile, doubled over. He looked up and was as shocked to see Clarice, not Emilia standing over him as he was shocked by the pain.

"Did that love tap wake you up or do I need to back that up with a little more force?" she warned.

Hannibal held a hand up. He was caught dead to rights and he had to explain. "It wasn't you…I'm sorry…it wasn't you. I thought you were Emilia. It wasn't you."

Hannibal believed the explanation was a sound one. It was the truth. She would understand.

But Clarice was pregnant, a mother lion defending her cub.

"Fuck you H it was me!" she stormed from the shower and slammed the door. "I understand if you're all turned around by what happened to you but you have to understand…I'm having a baby. I can't have you around me if you're out of control H…you're too goddamned dangerous if you're unstable. You need to get some fucking help with this or I'm not sticking around. You lose your shit at the wrong time and you'll hurt me or our baby. I'm not letting it happen H…I'm fucking not!"

Hannibal remained in the shower, doubled over and in some distress. Not from the contact which was glancing as she did not want to injure him, but from the realization that he was not in control.

The memory of his torment did not fade. It remained free formed and fresh and it, along with Nico and Emilia ran loose among his thoughts. Hannibal would have to corral the errant and grievous recollections before the reminiscences overwhelmed. The trauma was now invading his consciousness. Nico and Emilia were still a threat. They were as true a threat to Hannibal now as they were a threat to him personally then… it would not be long now before they became a threat to his marriage.

There was no doubt that Hannibal Lecter needed help. The question now would be to whom could or would he turn?

Until the next chapter my friends!

LH