IN THE LIGHT OF DAY

With good reason, Hannibal woke before Clarice.

The storm of the evening passed leaving a bright morning with the promise of a brilliant day. Sitting up in bed, Hannibal stretched his arms and attempted a deep breath. His ribs protested the expansion and punished his efforts with a stabbing pain. Placing his palm on his side, he pressed against the throbbing as he stood from the bed. Inhaling deeply as the agony seared his nerve endings, Hannibal Lecter focused on the source and effectively closed the door on his pain. Discomfort successfully compartmentalized, he prepared to go on about his day.

I'm getting too old for this…

Walking silently around the bed and bending carefully, Hannibal Lecter lifted his namesake from his sleeping wife's arms and carried the baby to his crib. He didn't want to chance that his wife would see his face and, with the baby in her arms, overreact thus frightening their child.

With his son's diaper changed and the boy returned to his crib, Hannibal moved to the kitchen, whipped up a quick batch of homemade blueberry muffins and prepared the coffee hoping the scent of freshly baked goods and coffee brewing might entice his wife from her slumber.

How long will it take to ease you into this, my Love? Will you turn to face me the moment you wake or can I rely on you to begin your day slowly?

Upon his return, Hannibal approached the bed just as Clarice stirred to consciousness. He smoothed a hand on her back.

"Good morning, Clarice."

Turning her head slightly but not opening her eyes, Clarice responded, her voice hazy with sleep, "G'morning, H…where's Dev?"

"Changed and sleeping soundly in his crib. He nursed as you slept this morning."

Hannibal removed his robe, climbed into bed and fully nude with the exception of the bandage, edged very gently against his wife.

Hannibal reached over her shoulder and with his index finger moved an errant lock of hair from her face, whispering, "I'm going to shower now, my Love. When I finish, before I put on my clothing, you might like to have a look at my injuries. A good many won't be visible once I've dressed."

Barely awake, Clarice responded without turning over, "Yeah…okay, H. You can show me your arm when you get out."

"I'll need to show you more than my arm, Clarice."

Believing Hannibal was making a veiled reference to sex, she reached back blindly and slapped at him playfully.

"Hell, H don't you ever get enough? You're going without until tonight. I was cleared for sex, not for nymphomania."

He chuckled at the assumption.

"Though that was not my point, if you are discussing hypersexuality, it is referred to as nymphomania in females. For males, it is termed satyriasis, Clarice."

She spoke as she gathered the pillow around her face, her voice muffled within the downy comfort, "Well, you just keep a lid on your satry-whatever until tonight, Hot Stuff!"

"As you wish, Clarice."

Hannibal stood from the bed just as Clarice's cell phone began to hum on the nightstand, bouncing along in vibration mode. Hannibal looked at the display. It was Ardelia.

Here we go…

"Your friend is ringing your cell phone, Clarice. You might want to take the call now. She'll be concerned if you continue to put her off."

Her mind attempting to return to sleep, Clarice questioned, "What?"

"Ardelia continues to call, Clarice."

"Thanks, H…I'll call her while you're in the shower."

Still not looking up, Clarice? You'll be quite upset with yourself...

Hannibal continued, entertained by the interplay as he tempted her to turn and face him.

"I prepared the coffee and there are muffins still warm from the oven in the kitchen. That will hold you until I come down and prepare you a proper breakfast. My shower may take longer than usual as I'm battered and a bit sore. Perhaps you might like to join me? Possibly wash my back for me? It may prove difficult in my current state."

Reaching across the bed, Clarice grabbed Hannibal's pillow, and without turning her face, slinging her arm like that of a trebuchet smacked him with on the shoulder with it. She then dragged the pillow over her body and hugged it.

"I'm on to you, playing possum trying to get me in that shower. I already told you, H, you're waiting until tonight, like it or not."

Clarice's cell phone began to hum again.

"Very well, my Love, you tend to your friend. Apparently her need for you is greater than mine. I shall attempt to muddle through."

"You don't go playing the wounded little boy, I'll take care of your needs tonight, H."

"I shall accept whatever assistance you offer without complaint, Clarice."

As Clarice gently rolled to retrieve the phone, Hannibal slowly rose from the bed and walked toward the bathroom. He was unconcerned being seen from behind, as the damage to his body was restricted to the anterior side. He smiled to himself, careful not to draw undue attention as he walked to the bathroom to take his shower.

Ardelia will explain what you would not see for yourself. How will you react, I wonder? Anger? Upset? Guilt? Knowing you, my Love, it will most likely be some combination of the three. No matter. Whatever your reaction, it will soon pass when you realize I am no longer in danger.

Clarice put on her robe and walked behind Hannibal smoothing a hand on his back as he entered the bathroom.

"Thanks H, I'd kill for a cup of coffee and a muffin. I'll give Dee a call and come back to check your arm."

"Certainly, Clarice."

Hannibal actually found it entertaining, this little game of cat and mouse. He was really quite surprised that Clarice had not yet discovered his injuries. It isn't as if he had hidden the facts dramatically. He was very clear he had been injured therefore he could hardly be faulted if she had not pursued the details or severity of the injuries. No doubt Ardelia had seen the coverage and would be filling her in on the particulars. Hannibal stepped into the shower and prepared for the real storm.

Clarice poured herself a cup of coffee and began eating a muffin still warm from the oven, as she dialed her friend. Sitting at the breakfast bar she was pulling small pieces from the fruity cake popping them in her mouth waiting for Ardelia to answer the phone.

Ardelia picked up and immediately, without waiting for Clarice's salutation, or offering a hello of her own, spoke abruptly.

"Clarice? We've been sick to death over Hannibal! Is he okay? Logan's been driving me crazy! We worried all night."

Clarice was clueless and caught totally off guard by the response.

"Hell, Dee, why are you so freaked out over this? Christ, all we did was go to the zoo! It was no big deal…the baby's fine."

Logan's voice could clearly be heard in the background.

"How's my buddy? What's going on?"

Ardelia responded to Logan first, urging, "Babe, give me a break. I know you're worried, but be quiet a second, I don't know yet…"

Ardelia returned to Clarice, "The baby? Who the hell's talking about the baby? I'm talking about your husband!"

It was obvious by her tone that Clarice was becoming increasingly frustrated.

"H is fine, why wouldn't he be? What the fuck is going on, Dee?"

"I saw the coverage of him getting attacked on the Mall last night. The footage was all over every station and it was unbelievably graphic, Clarice. I don't know what he looks like now, but that knife wound on his arm and the damage to his eye? Jesus, I don't get it. How could you not think that was a big deal?"

"What knife wound? Stop fucking with me Dee! What are you talking about? He hurt his arm at the carousel, that's all."

Realizing her friend hadn't a clue, Ardelia quickly explained.

"No, Clarice, I don't know what he told you but Hannibal was mugged near the carousel! Girl, just go put on the news you can't miss it. Hell, they've been running the footage every few minutes. What does his face look like, anyway? His eye looked closed."

Clarice was embarrassed to admit she hadn't paid attention to him this morning, and last night, when he said he was injured she left it alone.

Pangs of guilt crushed her chest as she regretfully admitted, "Fuck all, Dee, I don't know what he looks like."

"What? Didn't he come home?"

"Yeah, but I was already in bed and I didn't look at him, okay! We had sex then we went to sleep. It was dark."

"You're kidding me! How the hell did that man have sex last night?"

Clarice could hear Logan in the background shouting, "Sex? Did she say she had sex with him last night? That man is fucking superhuman! That's some god-like shit right there!"

Ardelia's response to Logan was muffled, making it obvious the mouthpiece of the phone was covered, "Are you kidding me?"

Logan, unable to control himself continued, "Okay…sorry. I'm just saying that man's my fucking hero. Literally and figuratively."

"Jesus! Shut the hell up, Logan!"

Clarice was mortified.

"Christ, Dee…did you have to repeat that in front of Logan? That's all I need right now, as if I don't feel embarrassed enough already."

"Sorry Clarice…it's just…how could you be that close to him and not know?"

"I don't know. He took a shower and got in bed and then, well…it was great and he seemed fine."

"You think he was trying to hide it?"

I don't know. If he was hiding it, it would only be because last night was the first time we could…well, you already know that happened so, he might not have wanted to wait. It's been a long time. He did tell me he was injured I just assumed he was talking about his arm. Oh, Christ!"

"What?"

"He asked me to help him wash his back, but I thought he was just trying to get me in the shower so I brushed him off. He even told me to come up in a few minutes and look at the damage before he got dressed. I just assumed…"

Ardelia interrupted, "Well, I guess the lesson here is you probably shouldn't assume anything when it comes to Hannibal. Trust me when you watch that footage you'll see there's no damned way in the world that man's fine, Clarice. Hang up the phone, go watch the news and then go take care of your husband. Call me later, okay."

"Yeah, okay Dee. I'll call you later."

Clarice hurried into the family room and put on the television.

A reporter stood beside the man who had spoken to Hannibal by the carousel.

"So, you spoke to Doctor Lecter before the attack?"

"Yes, yes I did."

"Can you tell us what he said? What was his mood?"

"He was in a good mood. He told me he came into the city for business and that now that his business was finished, he was looking forward to going home to his wife and his baby."

"Did you approach him or did he approach you?"

"He approached me, but I didn't know who he was at first. He saw me taking video of my daughter on the carousel. She has red hair and she's a really adventurous little girl so he was admiring how brave she was to ride the dragon and not one of the pretty horses. He said she was beautiful and said she really reminded him of his wife, Clarice. When I heard the name...Clarice, I realized who he was and turned to look at him. That's when I saw it was Doctor Lecter. Then, he said he wanted to get home to his wife and wished my family well. That was about it."

"What made you direct the camera toward him?"

"My wife came back with our little girl and when I pointed Doctor Lecter out, I saw the men approach him and it looked sort of shady. Since I already knew he came to town alone, I thought there might be a problem so I started rolling the camera for evidence and I asked my wife to go find the police. I was worried at first, but Doctor Lecter came out okay."

"Does he know you have this footage?"

"Yes, I offered it to him but he told me to sell it. That it would be his donation to my daughter's college fund. Trust me, it's paid for in full and then some."

"Well, I'm sure the network was happy to help with that. Thanks for sharing your compelling story. Let's run the footage and have a look."

The reporter cued producer and the station began running the video.

As she prepared to watch the coverage, it dawned on Clarice her husband had absorbed the damage, because he didn't want to chance embarrassing his family at the zoo and had left the Harpy home.

Oh god, it's my fault! He was upset and left without protection…he could have been killed.

As Clarice watched her husband stand his ground against a man with a knife, she wanted to scream at the television. She wanted to warn him, to tell him to run, but she knew from Ardelia the damage had been done. She watched, helpless as Hannibal disarmed the man with the knife, breaking his arm.

Good, H…good... get that knife and stab the son of a bitch.

When she realized the knife went unrecovered as the second man attacked, her heart pounded. Reaching for a pillow, she hugged it tightly to her chest in an attempt to still it, to no avail.

The moment the second man attacked, the terrified wife watched helplessly as her husband was tackled in the mud and punched mercilessly. Hannibal struggled for several minutes until he was finally able to gain the advantage. Clarice watched her husband beat the man absolutely senseless.

Suddenly, the first man, broken arm swinging like an open gate, prepared to challenge once more.

Oh, God…H…the knife!

Clarice gasped the moment she saw the first attacker recover long enough to retrieve the knife and once again challenge Hannibal in an attempt to get him away from the unconscious man.

H…why didn't you run, H…why?

Though the possibility of his escape was her first thought, she was forced to turn it away. Clarice knew that wasn't in Hannibal's nature. Who was she kidding? It wasn't in her nature either.

You just don't have it in you to turn tail and run, do you, H? Why do these idiots have to measure their manhood against yours? They won't win. You won't let them.

Clarice looked at Hannibal's eyes, glowing on the screen as he fought for dominance. He didn't look frightened, he looked exhilarated. She couldn't fault him for being true to himself, but she couldn't help being hurt for him. He was just trying to come home to her. At least he better have been. Clarice allowed herself a moment to consider, when she looked at the video, that Hannibal may have actually been enjoying himself.

Don't let me find out you wanted this…don't let me think you'd put yourself in jeopardy. We have a son now, H…you're not alone anymore…

By the time the gash was torn in her husband's arm, Clarice was sobbing uncontrollably. When, finally, Hannibal was able to block the attack and turn the tables, regaining control of the situation, Clarice was absolutely inconsolable as tears streamed down her face unabated. She sat for a moment, wondering why, knowing he was home and safe, she had been so overcome with emotion. She knew it was time to go upstairs and look at her husband but believed she might break down again. Her internal dialogue, meant to serve as a pep talk, was proving less than successful.

Okay, Clarice, keep in mind he's going to look like shit, but he's fine. I mean, we made love so he's fine…still…what kind of wife hears her husband talk about being injured without putting on a light and looking at the fucking man? He said injuries, plural. He offered for me to look at the damage before he dressed so he wasn't trying to hide it. He was telling me the arm wasn't all of it. He couldn't have been trying to hide it…he was walking around the bedroom. Hell, he got in bed with me and I didn't even turn to look at him…Christ…I even hit him…oh god, what kind of a wife hits a man she knows is hurt… Fuck all…I suck at this!

Clarice hurried up the stairs and rushed to the master suite. Approaching the bathroom, she rested her hand on the door, almost afraid to open it. The moment she lifted her arm, displacing the air preparing to knock, Hannibal spoke.

"Clarice?"

"Hey, H…I came to help you wash your back if you still need it."

"Not to worry, I was able to manage."

"Sorry, H…I'm so sorry. Can I come in?"

Hannibal detected the intense anxiety altering her scent, thus he spoke with confidence attempting to reassure.

"Clarice, you are aware there are no locked doors between us. You may enter as you wish."

Gripping the knob she turned it, holding her breath as she swung the door open and pushed through. Clarice stood in the bathroom staring at her feet, nervous to look up at him.

Hannibal continued to shower, vigorously soaping his chest, his injured arm covered in some sort of medical plastic wrap.

"Did you speak with your friend, Clarice?"

"Yes…I saw the coverage too. It's all over the news. H? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was quite clear, my Love. I told you I was injured near the carousel."

Anger rising she insisted, "H…let's not fuck around with semantics. You hid it from me last night."

"I told you I was injured and said I preferred to make love rather than discuss it. How can that be considered hiding it?"

"You wanted the room dark."

"My eye is damaged and the light would have exacerbated the injury. I am still rather photosensitive, Clarice. Even if, as you suggest, I did attempt to avoid revealing the injuries, might it not be because I wanted to make love and knew, had you seen the impairments, you would have denied me out of concern for my health?"

Arms folded across her chest she affirmed indignantly, "Damned straight I would've denied it!"

Hannibal remained unaffected by her ire, realizing it would soon be supplanted with regret.

"That being the case I made the correct decision since my need for you last night as it is each and every day and night, especially considering the months of waiting, was quite extreme."

"Okay, whatever. I need to see you. Can you step out of the shower? Are you through?"

"Of course, my Love." Hannibal turned off the stream of water and, after sweeping his palms over his body to quickly wick some of the water from his skin, stepped boldly from the shower making absolutely no effort to reach for a towel to cover up the damage. He stood in front of his wife.

Her mouth fell open as she assessed his body.

"Oh, God…oh my God…what did they do to you?"

Hannibal reached for his wife and smoothed his hands up and down her arms, enjoying the sensation of her flesh under the pads of his fingertips.

"Trust me, far less than I did to them, my Love."

Upon seeing the totality of damage, Clarice gasped, "Oh, my god, H! It looks horrible. Your goddamned eye is completely closed and both your eyes are black."

"That is because the second man fractured my nose. I was forced to allow the contact to gain a better ground position. It isn't attractive, but it is not dangerous, nor is it painful, unless of course you choose to hit me, again. That would prove uncomfortable, I'm sure."

Clarice lifted her hand to his face and stroked his cheek gently with the back of her hand even as her tears began to fall.

"God, H…I'm so sorry…how could I not know you were hurt?"

Hannibal quickly embraced his wife. "My Love, it appears far worse than it feels. You know my physical abilities are not diminished. Did I not please you last night?"

Almost afraid to hold him she let her hands settle on his hips, careful not to lean against him.

"Hell yes, but how do you think that makes me feel? You must have been in absolute agony! Everyone in the fucking world found out before I did and I slept in your arms! I feel like the crappiest wife in the world."

Hannibal rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"Nonsense, Clarice. I was not in agony. You have seen me absorb far more damage without any outward suffering. You do understand I have the ability to fully abrogate pain. You have witnessed it before."

Clarice gathered her courage, lifted her head and met his eyes. Not only were they blackened, but the sclera was damaged as well and instead of being white, was now fully blood filled. This, combined with the red of his irises, flooded the entire surface of the orbs with a deep shade of crimson, giving him an eerie appearance.

"Oh God, H, your eyes! Don't you try and pretend it doesn't hurt."

Hannibal lifted her chin and held it, forcing her to look at him.

"When I feel any level of discomfort, as I did last night, I take a moment, focus on the problem and put it aside. I understand seeing me in this way hurts you. Please, Clarice, focus and put it aside."

"I can't see in here. Get in the bedroom and show me everything."

Clarice very gently took his hand and led him to the bedroom making him sit on the bed so that she could see the injury to his eye up close.

"Okay, take me through it and show me everything."

Hannibal spent the next several minutes showing Clarice his cuts and bruises. She looked at the gash in his arm.

"That probably needs stitches."

"The butterfly closures will serve the same purpose."

Dejected, Clarice sat beside Hannibal. He didn't speak, and for a time, neither did she. Clarice simply leaned toward her husband and rested her head on his shoulder.

Finally, Clarice spoke quietly, "H?"

"Yes, my Love."

"Please, tell me you didn't encourage that situation. You looked as if you were having a blast, injuries aside."

Hannibal paused. This made Clarice shift her body and face him.

"H...don't you lie to me. Did you bait those men?"

Relieved at her wording, he didn't need to lie, "No, Clarice. They saw me get out of the car and began trailing me. I approached the man at the carousel hoping, in the event they attacked, he would record the event as evidence. I will admit, however, that once the attack was inevitable, I rather enjoyed the exchange. Does that anger you?"

Clarice considered the statement. Of course he fought back. Hell, she would have too. She couldn't fault him for being himself.

"Just promise you'll keep me and Dev in mind and attempt to avoid this sort of thing in the future."

Hannibal leaned over and kissed his wife. "I'll endeavor to keep that in mind, my Love."

"When we married, I promised myself your body had seen its last scar. I haven't been able to keep that promise."

Hannibal smoothed a hand on her thigh.

"It wasn't a realistic promise to make, Clarice. You have had no control over what has happened to me."

"Other than the day you went after that panther, none of the new scars happened in Argentina. We were happy there."

Hannibal reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers, squeezing gently.

"Yes, we were, though we are still."

"H? Is Devyni old enough to fly?"

"Yes, Clarice."

Clarice lifted their joined hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles, still raw from the attack. She then took his hand and clutched it to her heart and spoke softly, "H…how long will it take to make travel arrangements?"

Until the last chapter my friends,

LH