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LH

REMNANTS OF THE PAST

BLOOM AND PEARSALL

Bloom walked through the hallowed hallways of the agency in silence. He concentrated on his heels striking the ground as if the assertion of his footfalls reflected his resolve. They did not.

I'm lucky I got out of there in one piece…that was a train wreck.

Doctor Bloom had no actual desire to interact with Lecter in that uncontrolled of an environment. It was at most, exceptionally dangerous and at the very least, exceptionally bad science. Bloom was a lot of things but a sloppy practitioner he was not. He believed Lecter was inherently flawed, organically damaged and most likely incapable of such significant change.

It could be that he's just playing house…why? For his entertainment possibly...As an experiment…maybe...more probably.

He paused, turning within the intersection of two hallways in order to determine which choice was correct. When he regained his bearings he moved.

His wife loves him. That much is obvious. He has provided Clarice with what she believes is an adequate home life but is he capable of providing a loving environment for the child. That would have to be assessed before the birth in April. Still, in order to assess his functionality in the real world I need to observe his behavior in a less controlled forum.

Bloom legged his way up the short flight to Pearsall's section, oblivious to onlookers as his mind churned with possibilities.

Hannibal is charming, many women will attest to that though he was described not so much loving as…attentive. He seems to have adapted. Clarice believes he loves her…she might be fooled. I'm not as easily led. Determinations must be made for the safety of the child.

Ambushing Hannibal at the press conference was Pearsall's idea because it presented just the opportunity they needed. Though, with such a limited time frame to work with, the execution was far from ideal. One might argue quite convincingly that it had been disastrous.

He'll never be that easy to access again. Maybe I overplayed my hand but I needed to take Hannibal out of his comfort zone, to test him, to probe him…to challenge him.

In this way, in emotionally poking and prodding Lecter, he believed he could achieve Pearsall's objective and determine if the doctor was indeed any form of a threat. Bloom understood fully that Lecter did not trust him. He had just now understood why. Finally, the last turn down the last hallway he could see Pearsall pacing back and forth.

Damned loud mouth name dropping Chilton!

Normally, he might have thought this somewhat circuitous route to diagnosis Lecter was simplistic at worst and suspect at best.

But if Hannibal Lecter remains a threat, it won't be long before he kills again. I need to stop arguing myself out of this. The public interest far outweighs any personal apprehension I'm feeling. Just because it didn't work doesn't mean the idea was flawed. There were simply problems with the execution. If there is another opportunity, I'll be better prepared.

Hannibal's intellectual nemesis believed correctly the sight of Will Graham might entice Lecter. During Hannibal's incarceration Will was after all one of Lecter's prized playthings. Bloom was thrilled when Graham so quickly agreed to accompany him though now, he was unsure as to why. It seemed in the brief interaction between the two that Graham had a secondary motivation. He wanted to further question Will, but could not as he slipped out just before Lecter took his seat on the dais.

Pearsall's request to document their interaction with Lecter had been the most catastrophic failure of the entire doomed endeavor. Bloom reproached himself mercilessly as he finished his long walk to Pearsall's office.

How could I have been so gullible?

He did not only to allow it, but by accepting the conditions, he had indeed condoned the emotional molestation of Lecter. Not normally Bloom's style. He played devil's advocate as he entered Pearsall's domain.

Why did I let Will place the camera? Why did he choose that particular location? Sloppy…very sloppy and bad science…bad form as well. Why did I let Pearsall talk me into this? What began as intellectual curiosity has degraded into a side show. He is alerted now. There can be no fair assessment of his capabilities. Before the failed endeavor Hannibal Lecter was an intellectual aberration, a cured serial killer. Now he is not only warned, now he is an ever present threat.

Pearsall exited his office and stalked the hallway nervously hoping Bloom had a revelation or two to share. He caught sight of Bloom and massaged his palms together in anticipation.

"What revelations do you have for me, Doctor?" Pearsall prodded as he gestured for Bloom to enter.

Bloom walked in and slouched a bit as he took his chair almost ashamed to admit the monumental failure. "No revelations other than the fact that our good friend Doctor Lecter is as cunning and brilliant as ever. Perhaps more so now that he has a family and if he truly cares for them that would give him far more to lose meaning far more to protect as well."

Pearsall had a hypothesis that needed reinforcement. He searched for any support that might fit his presumption, "So after seeing him for the first time since his incarceration did anything surprise you?"

Bloom thought for a moment and nodded, "I was really surprised at the influence of his wife Clarice. She has a great deal of control over him. Only because he allows it of course, but it is amazing that he does in fact not only allow it but actually encourage it. I was also impressed at her lack of fear and their comfort with each other."

Pearsall walked around his desk and took a seat. He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. He appeared shiftless and bored and seemed a man searching for conflict. It was as if boredom had been scratching behind his eyelids, itching incessantly at his brain. "So she seems happy with him? He doesn't have undue control?"

"Quite the opposite actually, he seemed to defer to her." Bloom crossed one leg over the other and shook his foot loosely, watching the shoelace shimmy with the movement. He was distracted as his mind churned with questions about Hannibal.

Pearsall nodded in agreement, "She's strong-willed so if anyone can stand up to him…it's Starling. So he was in good spirits? He seemed…stable?"

"He appears stable though he maintained a thriving medical practice while he committed all sorts of atrocities so we can't really go by that. I did make a concerted effort to rouse his anger. It didn't seem to matter because he was already upset with me at that point."

"Why was he upset?"

"He apparently made the connection to Chilton's treatments and my background participation. I had no idea my cursory consultations on the case were known to him. I had always been aware that we were rivals of sorts but I did have a professional admiration for his intellectual gifts. I had dared to hope that he might have a similar opinion of me. I was taken aback at the animosity. There was true hatred in his eyes."

"What gifts?" Pearsall questioned sarcastically. The query seemed almost rhetorical in its presentation.

"Your tone illustrates to me that you don't respect Lecter. That's fine Clint but you should know that everyone who has ever underestimated this man is dead. Lecter's mind is absolutely impenetrable unless he lets you in and he only shows you what he wants you to see. He operates on an entirely different plane of consciousness. He has an incisive and absolutely laser-like intuition…impossible to quantify. His instincts are more animal than human…he can identify specific individuals by scent, determine their location and can assess emotions similarly. I've seen him do it and it's almost…otherworldly."

Pearsall remained unconvinced. "There's been so much bullshit about how smart Lecter is that I can't believe it. He pisses up a rope and everyone stands around and play in the bubbles."

"You can joke if you want but this is all documented. Remember, the first year he was incarcerated he cooperated with therapy and testing. We attempted to test his I.Q and it was off the chart. It is also staggering how many different highly complex computations he can process simultaneously. He's an intellectual aberration and you will never encounter a mind like this, more to the point there has never been a mind like this, so keep an open mind and stay on your toes."

"Okay…okay smartest man on the planet…smartest man to ever live… blah, blah, blah, I get it. I'm keeping an open mind so go ahead and enlighten me. What makes this hatch case's brain so special?"

"Hannibal can compartmentalize his body's reaction to physical stimuli including the receptors for pain, he can restrict his reponse to emotional input and he can access or restrict access to his intellect at will. This gives him the uncanny ability to simultaneously work on several extremely complex mathematical computations, review case studies, assess the patient's diagnosis and create treatment plans simultaneously. Particle physics and chaos theory are no more than a hobby to him. He also has an inhuman tolerance for pain and any attempts to access his memory through psychopharmacological means was futile. I have never seen him overwhelmed, or perplexed and believe me some of the tests we put him through were…well, let us say I would not have attempted them on a man less than he. Another trait that stood out was that he never doubted his reactions or responses. He truly believed that he was never wrong…ever…he was always singular in that confidence."

"Was he ever wrong?" Pearsall wondered out loud.

"We reviewed every file we could find that hadn't been altered or destroyed. Each diagnosis and every treatment or surgery performed had been absolutely perfect and he knew it. We interviewed him and his trust and belief in his abilities was absolutely unshakable."

"It's that ego of his…goddamned legendary."

"Maybe so but it is founded in experience. As a boy I'm certain he believed everyone's minds were as capable as his. As he aged and he learned how singular he is, well…that's bound to give anyone a bit of an ego. All of his work has been groundbreaking and revolutionary in its insight. I read everything I could find and tried to punch holes in some of his theories but I didn't have the capacity to grasp some of what he was proposing. It was…impressive."

"Yeah, I've heard that before. The surgeon who examined Starling said that too."

"To be honest I wish he would trust me…if we could find out what drove him to his violence and what drove him to stop…it's possible we could do much good," there was regret in Bloom's voice.

"Yeah well that'll never happen. He doesn't exactly have the best memories of his incarceration, Allen. I'm sure you can understand that. I've read the case file and trust me that dumbass Chilton absolutely tormented him for the years he had him. He was treated goddamned sadistically and if he connects you to that, you're pretty much useless to my purposes unless I can come up with an incentive. I need some of that information I asked you to get…we have a meeting with Lecter soon. What about the camera?"

Bloom shook his head in disappointment, "The camera is dead end. Lecter saw it and he took it from me at the press conference."

The utter disgust in Pearsall's eyes was apparent. "Jesus Christ, Allen…How'd you let that happen?"

"Let it happen? Precisely how do you propose I stop Hannibal Lecter, Mr. Pearsall? It isn't as if I gave it to him. He patted me down and took it from my pocket right in front of a crowd of people. There was nothing more I could have done."

"Jesus…now I have to meet with him and not only do I have nothing to show for all of this, he's gonna be pissed off."

"That is putting it mildly. What do you need all this for? Is it about him being captured and held? Did that really happen?"

"Yeah and we've got a couple of corpses on ice to prove it. He definitely killed the woman, probably the man as well but that's a notch Clarice is claiming for her belt so that's why we are meeting with them. He was definitely abducted, the Lecter security footage show the entire episode. Not to mention the damage the man did to Lecter. The wounds are horrific. I just requested a debriefing to go over the details. I need to know he isn't a threat. When he was fucking around playing husband in Argentina no one up here cared what he was doing but if he's going to be living in the States part of the time the Administration wants assurances. Where's Graham?"

"He left before the press conference saying that he didn't want to run into Lecter after the event. He wanted to check in on his wife and son. That was probably more of an excuse to get away from me. He most likely didn't want Lecter to continue to associate him with me."

"Why did he want to check on his family? Did Lecter make a threat?"

"I don't know if a threat was implied but there was absolutely no direct threat. Nothing I picked up on anyway but Graham and Lecter have a form of verbal shorthand. Lecter says one thing and Graham takes it in another way. Graham rambled something about that reporter, Lounds…from the Tattler. You know the one that Frances Dolarhyde murdered. He was extremely disturbed and I'm not sure I should have involved him. Lecter never mentioned it but I guess somehow he got in his mind and poked about. I know he did that quite freely during their meetings. Graham's ability to filter Lecter's stimuli may be somewhat compromised."

"But he said he wanted to help right?"

"He claimed he would do this as a favor to me but when Lecter prompted, he actually agreed to meet with him separately so I'm not certain all of his motivations are clear."

Pearsall picked up his phone and began to punch numbers aggressively, "I'll get that son of a bitch on board. He wants to meet with Lecter on his own that's fine. He can meet with Jack the goddamned ripper for all I give a damn just as long as I get briefed."

HANNIBAL'S NIGHT

Clarice rolled away from Hannibal as they slept. The nightshirt combined with her pregnancy heated her body to the point where she was uncomfortable. She was soon motivated to avoid Hannibal's body heat altogether.

Hannibal was sleeping soundly when his sub-conscious attacked. He was unprepared for the aggressive intrusion and fell prey to the intrusive thoughts. His sleeping body stirred and twitched as he reacted in his bed to the discomforting images rising.

Hannibal travelled through the dark underbelly of his ancestral home. There were many hidden passages; some were used for the servants to move about the home undetected from the residents and their guests. Some were designed for quick and stealthy escape in the event the castle had ever been overrun. Hannibal ran through the tunnels that traveled beneath the castle. There was a threat pursuing, chasing them but he could not identify it. He moved quickly to protect his wife and his infant son. His stomach burned with acid as dread flooded his body. His mind, untouched by the anxiety attempted to formulate a plan.

Escape…we need to get out of here…Clarice and the baby…Protect Clarice and the baby. A door…find a door!

He clutched his baby to his chest and with his free hand he kept Clarice near.

There is movement…people…danger...stay away…the people…they mean to harm.

The noises ahead, voices, the clattering of metal, the closing of doors were all ambient sounds that Hannibal had become familiar with.

The sounds…the people…they are not of this place. It is no longer home…it is no longer safe.

There was a tremendous sense of foreboding as he thundered through the tunnels, charging and splashing through the murky puddles now filled with waste and decay.

It was as if Fear had anthropomorphized, running beside him, whipping him mercilessly, driving him forward through the darkness. His heart struggled with each beat as if his new companion's massive hand had reached to his core, grasped the pulsing organ and squeezed steadily. The pressure interrupted the organ's freedom to beat causing Hannibal's breathing to strain. His collapsing lungs wheezed from effort.

The tunnels were cavernous, the depths of blackness plunged down to the twisting bowels beneath the castle. Hannibal's eyes glowed. A ring of maroon surrounded the blackness of the pupils, as if molten steel swirled there. His adrenalin surged as he rushed through the passages searching for the exit.

Finally finding the doorway he reached for the handle. The moment his hand fell upon it the earth began to shake. Hannibal stood very still as he assessed the sensation to determine what was generating the disturbance.

Not natural…not an earthquake. The rumbling is…mechanized.Tanks…whose?

He looked to Clarice and saw her eyes wide with terror.

H…get us out of here!

Planes above…low…just above the tree tops, the sounds of strafing as the bullets ricocheted above them. A protracted high pitched whistle elicited panic in Hannibal the escalating fear now wild in his eyes. He drove his legs like pistons attempting to get his family through the doorway. Too late…the sound too close the danger was upon them. Terror in his voice reflected his desperation to protect.

Clarice…take cover!

The whistle ended in a large explosion the merciless concussion throwing the family in the air tumbling one over the other. Moments later, gravity slammed them to the ground. Hannibal scrambled to his wife, her once worshipped body now bloody and lifeless. A large timber had split, ejecting an arrow-like projection ripping through her throat. Her unseeing eyes were already glazed over and stared blankly at the dust and debris that swirled in the air above. She was covered in a dense layer of soot and silt. Lovingly using only the most gentle of touches Hannibal floated his now trembling fingertips above the face of his treasured wife and closed her once bright eyes.

Anguish overtook Hannibal as he clutched his child to him and roared his grief to the walls of stone.

Hannibal's tears flowed, mud forming as the dirt from the collapsed building mixed with the anguish of his loss. The child too cried though Hannibal made no move to console his son any more than he sought to control his own grief. There could be no solace from this, only bone breaking sorrow.

The massive timbers continued to swing above like macabre gates threatening to close them in. Hannibal could see how tenuous their situation and sought immediate escape. He attempted to climb over the rubble but it shifted and collapsed beneath him. It was as if Hannibal were attempting to ford a field of lava gingerly navigating the surface as it cooled. His body weight caused his feet to break through and caused his unsure footing to falter. He tried to move quickly over the rubble but as a large beam rolled, he was smashed once more to the pile. Hannibal's protective nature was such that he was able to cushion the baby but only because he had so gladly surrendered his own body to the wreckage as payment.

The attack was not over as there were other planes…other concussions and again, no time to react. Hannibal looked up to see the largest timber of the post and beam support swing loose and crash toward him. Hannibal wrapped the baby in his arms and rolled to the side protecting his upper body and head. Because Hannibal had pulled the baby against his chest the child was unharmed. Hearing the twisting creaking beams, the desperate father attempted to stand but was clubbed to the ground as the upper supports snapped like twigs. The severed limb-like beams were again swinging with reckless abandon.

Pain seared through Hannibal's body. He was pinned, his legs no more than mashed flesh and splintered bone.

The child is safe.

Again, there was creaking but this was not the creaking of the split beams. It was the creaking of metal that whined from rust and disuse…This time it was the sound of a key spinning within a massive iron lock.

Before him, in a place where it had never been, at a time it could not be was the large glass wall that Clarice had viewed Hannibal through so many years earlier…or was it later…blood loss made the determination of time and space so difficult to assess.

From behind the clear barrier through the doorway stepped Pearsall. He reached for the child and attempted to pull it from Hannibal's bloodied grip. Hannibal would not relent so Pearsall left the cell. Bloom was standing in the hallway. He waved a hand oblivious to Hannibal's pain.

Enrikas Dortlich and Vladis Grutas came out from beyond the wall. Dortlich wrapped a rope around Hannibal's throat and tightened it. Dortlich stepped on Hannibal's shoulder blades and pulled. Hannibal gasped and choked his eyes bulging. He fought off death as he struggled to hold on to the life he created. Just before he lost consciousness and slipped into the abyss Grutas attempted to pull the baby from his embrace but Hannibal was no longer a child. He would not voluntarily release his son to these monsters. Hannibal raged within his mind, charging through his memory palace looking for anything that might help him save his infant son. Every door he reached for was locked.

No, No! You cannot have this child! Not my son…Not this…not again!

Grutas reached for an ax and twisted his body swinging the ax over his head. As the tool dropped, the blunt section of the ax head smashed against Hannibal's shoulder crushing it. The arm was now fully flaccid. Again, Hannibal Lecter could not protect. Again, Grutas ripped his heart from him.

Hannibal's eyes rolled up in his head but before he lost consciousness, he watched Grutas pass the child.

Immune to Hannibal's raw and anguish filled sobs as he choked away his last breath, Pearsall took the baby in his arms and silently walked away.

Hannibal woke in a cold sweat thankful that Clarice had not sensed this disturbance. He sat on the edge of the bed, his head hanging low from the exhaustion of expended emotions.

All that had been given had not yet been earned. Now…in his dreams...all had been taken away. Hannibal understood. Their world had collapsed. All they were, all they had been, all they might have become was now crushed under the mighty timbers of his past.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! As always there is more on the way my friends!

Review and let me know what you think, then PM to say hello!

Until the next chapter my friends!

LH