THE SUMMATION OF LIFE

Unaware and unconcerned with the goings-on in the family room, Hannibal entered the baby's bedroom and moved silently toward the crib. The room was darkened, the only light streaming from the hallway, ebbing through the elegant crib, illuminating his son's profile.

I have done much to ensure you will have the very best start I can offer you, my son. I hope my efforts will be adequate. My past has been a burden I have long carried without thought or regret. I pray with all I am that my efforts on your behalf have lowered that yoke, that you never be forced to shoulder it.

Standing beside the baby's crib, Hannibal rested his hand very lightly on the child's torso, allowing it to ride up and down with each breath taken by his son. He stroked his thumb, feeling the inhalations expanding the rib cage of this small, treasured body, marveling at the life he and Clarice created.

You are not only the full measure of the love your mother and I share, you are the summation of our lives together. I will watch over you always, my son.

Now, with the cameras removed and the production staff gone, Hannibal and Clarice felt comfortable moving their son from their bedroom into his own room, though, for the most part, he only napped there. Because Clarice breastfed throughout, the child slept in their bed on and off for a good part of the night. Hannibal enjoyed visiting this little sanctuary. Standing over this tiny life brought him tremendous peace.

The solace of the moment interrupted, Hannibal's attention shifted as he became aware of Barney's approach.

Probably from the long years at the asylum, Hannibal's ex-keeper had a definite calming influence and his presence, whether the good doctor would admit consciously or not, did in some way still the brilliant man. Clarice invited Barney because she correctly assessed Hannibal's calmness around the man was based on her husband's ability to detect Barney's protective feelings toward him. The man had proven, again and again that he felt responsible for Hannibal's care outside the bounds of his employment. He took that accountability beyond his duties, even to the point of requesting with all the vehemence in his power, to travel to Memphis. Chilton foolishly disallowed it. It cost him his life.

Hannibal's dignity was not preserved during the transport. Barney was forced to apologize, as he could not even provide privacy while he held the urinal assisting the fully bound Hannibal in the emptying of his bladder prior to the flight. It was no surprise to Barney when he discovered that, in pursuit of freedom, Lecter mercilessly tore through them all. Barney often wondered if he had been present in Memphis, would Hannibal have killed him as well? He thought he might ask, though he assumed the answer might distress.

Waiting until the large man was fully in the room, Hannibal spoke aloud, without turning to face his friend.

"His birth was difficult, but Devyni showed he is a fighter. Much like his mother, he is magnificent."

Not surprised that Hannibal detected his presence, Barney approached quietly and not to wake the child, whispered in a tone he knew only Hannibal would hear, "Wow. The more I see him, the more he looks like you. It's a little eerie."

Hannibal removed his hand from the crib and, with the tilt of his head signaled for Barney to follow him from the room. Hannibal activated the intercom system as he exited. When they reached the hallway, while pulling the door closed Hannibal spoke so thoughtfully, the wistful nature of it shocked his friend.

"Thankfully, young Hannibal has his mother's eyes. Carrying my name will be burden enough."

Touched by the moment and overcome by the sentiment, Barney put a hand on Hannibal's shoulder as the pair stood in the hallway just outside the baby's room. He left it for just a moment. Long enough to lend support, and though he thought better of it almost instantly, he had committed to the action.

"You shouldn't think that. Your wife is proud of you. Your son will be as well."

After having been physically accosted in the butcher's shop, Hannibal was sensitive to the contact. His head lowered for a moment, his eyes shifting to Barney's hand and back to the man's eyes.

What is this, Touch a Cannibal Day?

Supervising his incarceration, Barney had physically handled Hannibal for years. He'd put his hands on every inch of the man and seen him in every state in which one man can see another and yet this was the first time the contact between them approached the tactile comfort of a friend consoling his friend.

Oh, Christ…what have I done?

Seeing Hannibal's piercing maroon eyes focused intensely at the touch, Barney's heart raced a little, his hand trembling as he wondered what Hannibal was thinking. He assumed he understood their relationship but this was an invisible line he, until this very moment, had never dared to cross.

Jesus, you've had your hands on him enough for ten lifetimes without his permission…why'd you touch him now? You know better...never touch him…

Feeling not only the tremulous hand, but too, the man's unease, Hannibal forgave the breach in their established etiquette. He graced his friend with an affable smile even as he placed his own hand on Barney's shoulder, a silent assent that no offense had been taken in the gesture.

"It's kind of you to say so, Barney, but I have no illusions. I will shoulder the weight of my actions and as such, will make no effort to hide my deeds from my child. I have done all I can to alleviate some of the stigma of my past. As I feel my actions were justified, I have no fear of judgment. Either from my family or my God."

Though the reference to God caught him off-guard, he left it alone for now.

The pair moved down the hallway and descended the stairs quickly with Barney a mere step behind Hannibal. Barney spoke as they walked.

"Well, you've given back as many lives as you've taken so that should count for something; don't you think?"

"Perhaps." Having arrived at the foot of the stairs, Hannibal offered, "Barney, I have no desire to see the scheduled programming or listen to the accompanying running commentary by the women or, possibly more to the point, Logan. You may join the others if you wish, or you are welcome to join me in my study to fulfill what I perceive is your promise to my wife. The choice is yours; I'll not be offended in either case."

"I don't have a burning need to see it. If you don't mind me tagging along, I'd prefer your company to Logan's. Clarice's worries aside, I really miss our talks. Seems I got used to having your ear now and then."

Without further commenting on his wife's participation, Hannibal moved toward the study with Barney again a step behind.

Hannibal paused for a moment as he stood at the entrance to the doorway, sweeping an arm to direct that Barney precede him.

"You have my direct phone number, Barney, and as such, you may have my ear whenever you like."

Barney chuckled as he entered the room and took the seat across from Hannibal's desk. He knew from past experience, the doctor would sit in the large chair behind it.

Hannibal did indeed sit in the leather chair and as the man settled, comfortably gripping the ornately carved scrollwork on the arm of the chair, Barney watched with privileged admiration. The ex-orderly likened the experience to viewing the last of something. As if Hannibal were a king or a savage prince somehow out of his time; that taken was he with Hannibal's regality.

With an unusually commanding presence for a man of just over average height and build, there was a simmering lethality in his stillness and a power to his majestic bearing that was both engaging and terrifying. So splendid and imposing was this man that Barney thought to himself, if Hannibal had indeed delivered his death, the ex-orderly's last thoughts would be rendered with shades of dread and awe.

"Well, I'm not much for the phone and somehow, I just don't see you enjoying that much, either. You don't seem the telephone type. It's another thing, to see the person you're talking to. Much more intimate and engaging, don't you think?"

Hannibal shifted, crossing one leg over the other as he nodded in agreement.

"Yes. I do believe that as well, and you are correct in that I detest the telephone if there is no clear point to the conversation but I do value your friendship. If you ever have need of me, please, feel free. Day or night, no matter, I am at your disposal."

"You know well enough to do the same."

Hannibal raised his arm and indicated the scar on his wrist where his hand, with Barney's intervention, had been reattached.

"I have, my friend. Were it not for your intervention that evening on the Chesapeake I would most likely not have this hand and by extension, would not have Clarice."

Barney shook his head. He was uncomfortable with this topic and suddenly became very preoccupied with the texture of his trousers, rubbing his palms over his knees.

"Nah…The hand…maybe…that might have gone differently, but I can't see anyway you'd be without Clarice. It's destiny."

Hannibal rocked casually, tipping the chair like a metronome as he revealed his thoughts. "I don't believe our futures are preordained. Without the hand, I may not have sought her out. There would have been too much between us to overcome."

That thought, that there were circumstances by which Hannibal would not have attempted to be with Clarice, shocked him.

"You'd blame her for it?"

Hannibal dismissed that notion with the shake of his head.

"Never, though she would and does on occasion, blame herself. Clarice often seeks to carry the weight of those she feels are damaged or are in need of protection. I would not be able to bear her perceiving me as such. It is enough of a burden to love me. Had the mutilation remained, she would not only have seen me as weakened, but would have sought to carry the blame for it as well. I would not have allowed either, and as such, the injury would have kept me from her."

The concept of God touched on earlier, Barney thought it might be a good time to find out what Hannibal believed and didn't believe. The doctor's mind was not only of superior capacity, his intellect unequaled but combined with his education and unique moral structure, Hannibal's perception of the concept of divinity and theology interested Barney immensely.

"Nah, you would've been with Clarice no matter what. It was meant to be, so, by the grace of God, you have a wonderful wife and a beautiful new baby boy. You're a truly blessed man, my friend."

Hannibal's eyes brightened, intrigued by the conversation.

"By the grace of God? Perhaps. Blessed? It would please me to think that, more so now than at any other point in my life, and yes; the concept of a deity interests me. My mother was a woman of great faith. I myself cannot say for certain, though I have long considered the question."

Seeing Hannibal was not shying from the topic, Barney continued, "I was always curious as to your opinion on the concept. Whether or not you believed in God."

The arch of an eyebrow signaled Hannibal's curiosity.

"And yet, you never asked?"

"Didn't seem an appropriate question when it first came to mind. We had a very different relationship at the time. You were so taken by church collapses, though, I always assumed you had a formal faith structure…religious education and beliefs."

"I do."

"Me too. Don't think he's a grey-haired white dude though."

"The concept is interesting isn't it, that of the anthropomorphized deity, the personification of the Supreme Being? If Sir John Dalberg-Acton was correct in his estimation that absolute power corrupts absolutely, one might assume an omniscient and omnipotent deity would be exceptionally cruel with a potentially twisted sense of humor. Not that I find that distasteful; in my estimation a ruthless God is preferable to one compassionate to the point of impotence."

"Sir John? British nobleman? Must've been Protestant."

"English-Catholic, actually."

Barney smiled as he pursued the thought. "Not many of those running around. So what do you think? Is there something after this life?"

"It is conceivable, if not preferable for most people, myself included, to believe there is something after this life, though the form it takes is anyone's guess."

Barney found it intensely interesting that Hannibal might believe in an afterlife. He had, after all taken many lives and surely if one did believe in the concept of heaven and hell, there would be negative repercussions in any form of Final Judgment for one such as Hannibal. Barney held the thought for a moment as he attempted to ascertain whether or not this exceptional man would be offended if that thought had been presented.

For now, Barney played it safe, asking simply, "Anyone you'd want to meet up with again?"

"No."

And, with the blink of an eye, Hannibal immediately disengaged.

Okay…no more talk about that…Don't want to piss off the big guy with the pointy knife.

The response was so sudden, Barney thought better than to pry. In all the years he knew Hannibal, his friend would share what he was comfortable sharing. It probably wasn't even a matter of comfort. Barney believed that Hannibal would share no more information than was relevant to whatever point he chose to make. If the topic exceeded his comfort level, as was obvious here, Hannibal would cease to communicate, making the boundaries absolutely clear.

If Hannibal did not believe Barney needed to know something, Barney didn't need to know it and he was fine with that. Considering the good doctor's immediate disengagement, Barney now thought changing the subject might be a good idea.

Should I ask? Would he actually answer? Sure…what the hell do we have to lose, anyway? It's purely hypothetical, after all, and I'm just damned curious…damned curious.

The seed of this question had been germinated, growing and trailing much like invasive ivy, twisting itself within his subconscious mind for years. He thought now might be a good time to weed it out.

"Can I ask you a question, Hannibal? About the time you escaped in Memphis?"

Hannibal's body stiffened slightly, though his expression remained unchanged. His fingers tented, he tapped them continually to his lips.

"You may."

Barney swung one leg over the other as he relaxed his body language, hoping to draw the tension from the question he posed.

"That first meeting, after Miggs attacked, when I heard you call Clarice back to you cell, you were disturbed."

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

"She was a thing of such beauty, innocence and purity that when Miggs defiled her in so base a manner, I was upset. Indirectly, she was my guest and would not see her harmed in such a manner without redress. It was my duty to defend her honor."

Barney leaned forward, resting his forearm on his knee.

"No matter what they did to you, how they tried to hurt you, Chilton and the like, you never made a sound. You never called out. To hear you so distraught…I'd never heard you distressed like that before, or since. At that moment, even though you had just met her, I realized that you were incapable of harming her, even then."

Hannibal sat very still, considering that moment and the impact it had on his life. Had Miggs not acted as such, it was entirely possible Clarice would have been a pleasant thought he might have revisited from time to time, but no more.

Pre-Destination...what an amusing concept in relation to the events of that day? That would have meant if Barney was indeed correct, that God himself guided Miggs' hand, leading Clarice to him. Divine Intervention in the form of a deviant's self-gratification. It is indeed an irreligious and exceedingly amusing thought.

Hannibal was exceptionally entertained by the concept. He turned his thoughts to Barney.

"That is an accurate statement. What is your question?"

"I wanted to go on that flight to stay with you because I knew they'd mistreat you but Chilton wouldn't allow it, so, my question is, if I had been in Memphis would you have killed me to escape?"

Barney held his breath as he awaited the response.

Dispassionately Hannibal angled his head slightly as he formed the explanation.

"That would have depended upon your behavior, Barney. I would have done everything in my power to in some way disable you, but you are a much larger man with elite military training and experience in hand-to-hand combat and my resources were minimal. If it had come down to my freedom, or your life…?"

Hannibal had no intention of completing the thought. The intention was plain.

Realizing the answer, Barney uncharacteristically interrupted, "I'd be a dead man."

Hannibal confirmed. "Although there would have been no pleasure in it for me, it is likely, yes."

Barney sat back and smiled.

"Well, at least I know you wouldn't have enjoyed it. Trust me, I'd let you walk before I would have forced you to gut me. I felt responsible for you. Still do to this day, but I'm a practical guy. If you'd gotten loose, I would've held the door for you. No job is worth dying for. Especially not that one."

Suddenly, Hannibal leaned forward and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes lifting to the door.

Barney noticed the unease and questioned, "Something wrong?"

Disconcerted, Hannibal replied, "That remains to be seen."

Until the next chapter my friends,

LH