Chapter 7
Warning: Mentions of (slightly) graphic retelling of self harm, and very minor self harm.
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"I'm so grateful, Sas, you don't know how grateful I am." He placed the Bratz backpack down on the island.
Silas looked hurried and rushed, probably due to the fact that his babysitter was suddenly unavailable. He needed to get to work, and with Mia gone, there was no one to look after Kenna with the winter holidays upon the schools.
"It's alright," Saskia smiled comfortingly, looking back to the young Kimmer in her living room who had found how to turn the subtitles of the TV on. "If I can help, tell me. It's kinda my fault that Mia's gone."
"What? No, you just wrote the books. You could not have known that they'd be used for such…such disgusting acts against God," Silas crossed himself before his hand clutched the rosary beads around his neck.
Saskia rubbed a hand down her other arm, trying to make the goosebumps that appeared go away. "I might be called in today, but I'll see if I can keep her away from the morgue. Probably stay in Jack's office with Countess if I do need to go down."
"I understand if you need to take her. Just keep her away from any gruesome pictures, I don't want her exposed to that side of life just yet," Saskia nodded in agreement as she watched Silas walk to his daughter and kneel before her. He then signed, "Be good for Saskia."
"Sure," Kenna signed back, smiling when her father gave her a kiss on the forehead.
Silas left Saskia's house, going to work for the day after saying his gratitude again.
"What will it be today?" Saskia sat on the sofa with Kenna, turning to her to sign. She flicked the TV to Netflix and went to the kids' account.
"No." Kenna sighed with her right hand and shook her head for each one. "No. No. No. N—wait!."
Saskia kept flicking through the shows until she landed on a show.
"W-I-N-X C-L-U-B?" Saskia signed out each letter, waiting for Kenna to confirm with a nod. "Okay. I will be at the table, doing some work. Come up to me because I will be listening to music and concentrating."
"Okay," Kenna put her thumb and pointer finger to her left shoulder before bringing the hand down to her right hip. It was the sign for queen, which meant Countess as there wasn't an American sign for countess. Saskia summoned the dog from her hiding place in the bedroom, giving her an ear rub before going for the table.
She sat down with her laptop, facing the TV to keep Kenna in her sight.
She spent a good four hours writing her findings. A folder on Leroy Harris was becoming bigger and bigger. But she only printed off what was essential before getting Kenna redressed in her winter coat and Countess into her harness.
They were in the FBI building now, just getting out of the snow and the really cold air. Kenna sat on Saskia's hip with a hand holding the girl up. Countess walked by Saskia's feet, the black vest was simple in colour and said Emotional Support Dog in white on both sides and across the back. Saskia knocked on the door before coming into Jack's office, gently dropping a folder on his desk.E"What's this?" Jack asked. "Who's that?
"His habits, and I'm babysitting her today," Saskia put her down and began to sign to tell her to sit quietly and read her book.
"She's deaf." He blinked. "I didn't know you knew Sign Language,"
"Part of my research for the books was sign languages, but I decided to not add it in,"
"We've got enough evidence to put Harris behind bars but we need to find him," Jack complained. "He's always long gone by the time we get the call. I need to know that you're actually helping us, Saskia."
She scoffed with slight disgust. "I can't believe this, Jack. I've spent the last two years helping to solve this case. I've been fucking stabbed by him. I've shown you documentations about my private past with Leroy Harris. He almost killed me, Jack. Do you really think I actually want to let him get away with this?"
"And since you've started to help, we haven't gotten anywhere,"
"We haven't gotten anywhere?" Saskia almost leered in distant. "I was able to confirm that Leroy Harris was the one killing everyone. His fingerprints on the blade that he stabbed me with is enough evidence for him to be locked away. You've just got to find him. I've done everything I can, everything I know is in the folder."
Saskia picked Kenna up while the little girl was still glued to the book.
How dare he? He made Saskia want to punch something. It was disgusting and distasteful how quickly Jack turned on her, how he almost accused her of wanting to keep Leroy free.
If anything, Saskia wanted to kill Leroy Harris herself.
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Abigail uncurled her arms from around her waist, no longer as self continuous as Saskia gave her a nononce look. "Fine."
"That's what I thought," Saskia rolled her eyes. "These people don't know you, Abigail. They see you as the last victim, or the survivor. But this book will change their view, whichever way you want."
When Saskia had mentioned 'these people', she nodded outwards to the outside of the cafe they sat in. it was a not well known cafe, only seeing a few dozen customers a day but Saskia liked the secluded feeling it gave off. The people were on the ground level as the two women and dog sat on the upper level of the cafe.
"I'm not the last victim,"
"No? Who is?"
Abigail swallowed dryly, moistening her lips with her warm tea while Saskia sipped her coffee. "Marissa Schurr. We went to school together. She believed me when I said I didn't have anything to do with my dad's actions."
"Didn't Will say something about her being killed by the CopyCat, as was Cassie Boyle I believe?"
"I still blame my dad," Abigail flicked the hair bobble on her wrist, flinching.
Saskia grabbed her wrist suddenly, taking the hair bobble off of her wrist and replacing it with the scrunchie that had held Saskia's hair up. "Here. Equal pain, less damage. You don't need to get into that habit of harming yourself."
"I know this might be a personal question," Abigail began by snapping the navy scrunchie against her wrist, satisfied by the snapping sound. "But have you ever self harmed? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
Saskia opened her mouth but closed it, thinking over her words carefully. "There was a time where I did self harm. It went from shallow and small to deeper and more often. I always kept them shallow enough to not need stitches, or leave a scar. Even if I was harming myself, I was still vain. It got to a point where I had one whole thigh covered in them in a single session.
"It took me a while, and losing several friends to get me out of the toxic mindset I was in. I am so glad that I detached myself from those friends. It took me a few months of being clean before I did it again, and I made myself promise that if I did it, I needed to wait until they healed to do more. That promise told me that I didn't need to do it to release my bad emotions.
"Those friends weren't good for me. Sure, we had similarities but they romanticised mental illness. Saying that they had this and that, but they never got diagnosed nor sought help."
"Is that why you see Doctor Bloom?"
"Kinda. I'm a civilian profiler for the Miscreant Killer case. I see the bodies whenever they come in, and since I got stabbed, Jack prefers me to be careful with my mental health."
"I read somewhere that your ex got killed and his body left at your house, is that true?"
"Yes. Samson was killed. I called it in. that's actually the first time i met Hannibal and Will,"
"The first time I met Will, he shot my dad. I didn't meet Hannibal until after I woke up from my coma," She fiddled with the hem of her sleeve instead of the scrunchie.
"At least our relationships with them have improved, wouldn't you think?" Saskia prompted.
"Yeah, they have," Abigail's smile was so subtle and soft, Saskia was just able to see it. "They've kinda turned into my father figures, especially since mine is actually dead."
"Is that a good or bad thing?"
She nodded. "It's, it's a good thing. My dad was a bit strange, especially since I had started to look for colleges."
"How's that coming along?"
"Not well, especially since the families of the victims filed wrongful deaths so, even if I sell the house, I don't get any of it," Abigail frowned. "At least with the book, I'd get a good proportion of it."
"Dear, you will get all of it, excluding expenses like advertising and printing," Saskia said, taking a sip. "I don't need the money. After my dad died, as his only child, I got everything of his. Including this little cottage in the forest where he owned the land along with some of the forest."
"When did he die?"
"In action. He was in the army and got badly shot, killed instantly. I was in a lecture when I got the call, I was his Next of Kin. The professor was not happy when I took the call, but I put a note on their desk and ran out of the lecture hall," It wasn't her proudest moment but it got the urgent meaning across. "It took me a whole month to get to Lithuania, sort his funeral, and everything else. It took me longer to get back to normal in England."
"Didn't anyone help you?"
"My uncle did but I got the final decision,"
"I was still in my coma when my mom and dad were buried, I still haven't brought myself to visit them,"
"Reasonable. I can only bring myself to visit whenever I've had something bad happen."
And they spoke for a few more hours. Saskia had a notepad and jotted everything down that seemed important, certain emotions, experiences, wants, needs, desires.
Abigail had the desire to become a veterinarian, or something that worked with wild animals.
There was a fox.
It was beautiful, a brilliant orange with a dark belly and paws. The eyes rivaled emeralds as it perked up, looking at Saskia fully as it drew back its lips in a silent laugh. The fox walked forward, no sound, silent towards them. It was less than a few feet away and Saskia had the impulse to touch it, to feel how soft the fur was, how silky, how good, how forbidden.
"Saskia?"
She blinked.
It was gone.
"Sorry, I dozed off a little," Saskia recovered, smiling in comfort. "My sleep hasn't been the best recently."
"Do you want to head back then?"
"Sure."
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Countess started to whimper and whine before they even got to the steps of the porch. Saskis ignored it, whipping her feet against the mat
"Hannibal, I'm with Saskia. I think she's in shock or something," Abigail said into her phone after Hannibal picked up. "Countess is whimpering and trying to get her out of it. It's kinda working. There's—There's a body on the couch. Another victim of that killer Saskia and Will are trying to get. I don't kn—"
Abigail flinched when something crashed loudly and Saskia yelled out in pain, "FUCK'S SAKE!"
"—And now she just punched the bookcase. Her hand is bleeding."
"I swear I will find him myself!" Saskia swore as she flicked her hand to get the blood off before she unlocked her phone and called a number. "Jack, he's been in my house. Left a little gift for me to find. There's the nineteenth victim on my couch."
"How'd he get in?"
"I don't know. I've got my door deadbolted, both front and back. And windows are locked. I've got cameras installed anyway, so you can check 'em. I've got Abigail with me, and she called Hannibal so he might be here soon."
"I'll get the team, Will's already at the FBI academy. I'll call the local police to keep the scene," Jack said.
"Alright, thanks," Saskia said back before hanging. She swore again as her knuckles and palm ached, the knuckles had small shards of glass in it and her nails had pierced her palm again.
Hannibal's navy Bentley Arnage showed up within minutes of ending the call. The man quickly got out and up the stairs to the porch.
Saskia hid the aching hand in her coat pocket as he asked, "Are you two alright?"
"We're fi—" Saskia tried to say but Abigail interrupted.
"Saskia punched the bookcase and shattered the glass," Abigail nodded to the pocket. "She's bleeding."
"I'm fine," Saskia tried and sighed when Hannibal gestured for her hand. He took it in his hands and gently pressed some of the knuckles, careful to miss the glass shards. "It's a flesh wound."
"You've got glass in your hand, and you've also taken off a nail, and bent your natural nail back a little," Hannibal concluded with a stern look when she tried to shrug it off. "The police will be here soon, I would think. I'll ask one of them to take Abigail back to Port Haven."
"But—"
"Abigail," He paused for emphasis and the fight in Abigail shrinked. "Saskia, keep the hand elevated above your heart while the ambulance gets here."
Abigail was not happy about being sent back to Port Haven, wanting to fight Hannibal on the matter. But a single dark look from Hannibal made Abigail almost squeak and sink into the back seat of the cop car with a sulk. She knew that she couldn't debate with Hannibal when there was blood around, even if it wasn't caused by them.
Abigail was quite surprised by how calm Saskia was, even she had been unsettled by the bloody scene. The young woman was dropped off at Port Haven without a fuss.
"Why did you try to hide your injury, Saskia?" Hannibal asked again.
Saskia tried to flex her hand, twisting and rotating her wrist as she could hear the bones pop and grind. "Thought I could have had it wrapped later."
"You could get an infection,"
She shrugged. "Ain't the worst thing I've done."
He sighed in disapproval. She was being stubborn and resentful, mostly due to the fact that she was utterly seething and terrified underneath her mask.
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"I will not be going into Witness Protection, Jack," Saskia crossed her arms even with her bandaged hand. "I've spent the last few years hiding my identity from the public. I will not be hiding again."
"Saskia, you're in danger," Jack tried to reason as he, Will, and Hannibal stood near her, just out of earshot to everyone working in the house. "He has gotten into your house twice now. He's left two dead bodies. He walked around your house without a thought to the cameras."
"So? I can stay at a hotel,"
"You live alone, albeit with Countess, but you're still alone," Will stated, his eyes unwavering from hers. "You're by yourself all the time. If he came into your hotel room and tried to attack you, and succeed, no one would know until someone comes for you and within that time you could be dead. Dead, Saskia, he could kill you within that time, and none of us want to find your body as the twenty first body. He'd leave you for last, perhaps torturing you. What he did to the others will be child's play compared to what he would do to you."
"If I go into Witness Protection, my identity will be taken. I doubt I'd be allowed to take Countess, even if she's a working animal. This place is my home. I don't want to leave it, dammit!" Saskia snarled. "I was on the run with Samson, I will not allow Leroy the same privilege of the hunt!"
"Saskia, you're being unreasonable. You could be—"
"Do you want to abandon the life you have right now? Leave everyone you know and be forced to live a fucking lie for the rest of your life?" They paused, unsure of how to continue as Saskia had almost screamed at them. "Give me a better option and I'll reconsider."
Everyone was silent as Saskia strutted away to sit on the bench on the porch. Countess laid her head on her lap, allowing the woman to weave her fingers into the dark fur. Saskia wiped a few tears that dared to fall, easily resuming her calm facade as she blankly stared ahead of her.
The three men, or rather, Will and Jack, argued about what to do with Saskia. It was like watching two cats spitting at each other. Unlike Will who was calm and relaxed, Jack was wound up and ready to assert his dominance over the group. Saskia wasn't the only one finding it good entertainment, Hannibsl just watched them argue before putting in his argument. Of course, it was the sanest one and had won Jack's and Will's approval.
Saskia went back into her house, storming upstairs to get her emergency bag. She always had one now, especially since Samson was stalking her. It had some necessities and would last ehr the week until she went back to get more later on.
She was just able to keep a straight face as Jack's jaw dropped a little, while Will just scoffed in disbelievement and turned to Hannibal, almost not believing what she was bringing.
"What?" Saskia grinned after a moment. Her weighted blanket was thrown over her shoulder as she walked down to them. "I ain't going anywhere without this blanket. Countess hates being without it."
Hannibal helped put both bag and blanket into the trunk of his car, helping Saskia into the passenger seat as Countess lounged behind her. He said goodbye to the men before getting in, driving away back to his home.
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"I needn't say that the basement is off limits," Hannibal raised an eyebrow.
They had gotten back to his house by half four, and now they were just in the kitchen. Saskia causally sat in the seat in the corner of the room, watching Hannibal prepare a simple meal. Countess napped on the floor, sprawled out like nobody's business.
Saskia didn't have an appetite by the time dinner came around, having lost it after finding the body.
"Is that the place where you cut 'em up before dishing 'em?" Saskia grinned but it faltered a little as Hannibal stayed serious. "Kinda want to stay alive, so I'll stay clear of there."
"Good, I hope I don't have to remind you," Hannibal smiled half heartedly as he cut up the lettuce smoothly.
"So, I was thinking of getting a gun," Saskia said offhandedly. "What do you think?"
"I would suggest you ask Will on the matter," Saskia curled up a bit more on the chair, picking her feet up. "Would it help settle your mind if you had one?"
"I would hope so, yeah," She sighed. "That's twice he left a little present. Samson wasn't done at my house and I'm still confused on how Liam got into my room. He seemed loopy."
"Loopy?" Hannibal paused in his cutting. "How so?"
She shrugged, bringing her knees up to her chest a little tighter as she looked at him. "High, I guess. He's never done drugs in his life, something he was proud of."
"Have you done drugs before?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow when Saskia gave him a look.
"I've done weed, nothing too dangerous," She gestured to her nose. "Kinda wanted to keep my nose intact and I'm not a fan of needles so Cocaine and Heroin were out of the question."
"Hmm. Would you like a beer?" Hannibal gestured, going for the wine for himself. He poured a glass before opening a bottle of beer. "Here you go."
"Thank you," Saskia took it with her good hand.
"What happened to make you not like wine?" He sipped on his own glass as Saskia took a swig back.
Saskia sighed a little in remembrance. "A few years ago, I was at a pub with some friends for New Years and we were sharing a few bottles. Someone drank too much and came over, being a bit creepy. We decided to leave but they didn't like it, took the bottle and broke it. One of the guys a few tables over, an army man, tackled them and we were escorted to a different area of the pub. Free shots so the night wasn't ruined."
"I remember you don't like champagne either,"
"God no," She grimaced. "Horrible. I don't know why but I just can't stand it, or sparkling water. It makes my tongue go funny and I can't taste anything but that for a while."
"Probably a psychological hatred,"
"I think of fish and I want to vomit. My step dad always said that my hatred of fish was all in my head, I used to eat it as a kid no problem. As soon as I turned about ten, I couldn't eat it unless it was tuna. And later on, I hated tuna too."
"And becoming vegetarian? Was that the same?"
"No, pure spite and wanted to piss my mother off." Saskia considered herself for a moment, shaking her head. "Not like it wasnt hard. Call her mother instead of mum and she's angrier than a rabid badger."
A rabid badger that needed to be put down before it ripped someone's head off, or worse, got killed for attacking.
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Saskia had her elbows propped up on the table, hands fidgeting with a telephone wire hair bobble. She was fascinated by the way the light changed the dark glittery blue that matched her new nails so well. She turned it this way, twisted it that way, but it always resumed its perfect circle if she placed it on the table.
"These appointments are getting very repetitive, Alana," Saskia said, drooping the hair tie. She tapped her nails against the table impatiently. "It's getting boring, and I don't like boring."
"I know," She sighed too before shifting in her seat a little. "Jack said you were interested in getting a gun. Why?"
Saskia scoffed. "Leroy Harris has stabbed me, and has gotten into my deadbolted house. I don't really know where I'll see a glance of him. I'd like some protection, even if I'm mostly against gun ownership."
"So you want a gun to kill him?"
"God no!" Saskia quietened as she began to hug herself a little, faking great fear and vulnerability. "With the notes, my past with him, and him actually stabbing me, I fear he will try to actually kill me again. I don't want to die."
"How close are you to getting Harris?"
"All we need is him in cuffs and he'll be behind bars for quite a few lifetimes,"
"And gun ownership? You said you're against it, what do you mean?"
"When i was younger and still in England, all I heard was about how people could get their hands on a gun easily and without any sort of regulations on them. I'm all for protecting yourself but owning more than a gun per person is a bit stupid, unless for hunting and shit like that. I've already checked an application for a gun, spoke to Will about it, and Jack. They've said it could help keep me safe. Hannibal said it's fine to have it in his house, but he would prefer that you state if you think I'm stable enough. His words, not mine. "
"From a professional standpoint, I can not see a reason for you to not get a gun if you want. But as a friend, I'm concerned that a gun is a bit extreme."
"I know. But I want to be safe while I'm out and about. Jack was tempted to put me in witness protection but Hannibal convinced him otherwise. I like it here. I don't want to leave."
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"Spread your feet a little more to get a better balance," Will said, gently kicking her feet to stand shoulder width apart.
After getting her gun license and license for concealed carry, Saskia now stood in Wolf Trap, Virginia, half a mile from Will's House. Even if she had passed her psyche evaluation and was deemed fit by Alana Bloom, Saskia had yet to go through any training on how to use a gun.
Since it was getting to the beginning of November, the snow was getting there. Saskia wore simple jeans with jumper boots and a leather jacket. Will wore something similar but his was dressed up by a shirt tucked into his jeans and a thin scarf. The yellow glasses made her vision go funny but she could see, it would distort the flash of the gun, and earmuffs distorted the sound.
"Try to hit the cans,"
The cans in question were several metres away, perched on a fallen tree. Several were lined up, neatly done as she tried to shoot them off.
She centred herself, relaxing her grip a little as she held the gun with two hands. She shot it, the recoil almost shocking her because her grip was too loose. She tried again with a firmer grip but looser elbows, letting herself take a breath before pressing the trigger once more.
"Well, that's shit," She said.
She missed the first.
"Try to prepare yourself for the recoil, making sure it lands more on your other shoulder. Your left one will be stiffer so guide with your right but fall back on the left," Will pointed out.
She nodded, adjusting herself before rolling her shoulders a little. Exhaling, she lifted the gun and pointed.
That was better!
The bullet hit the metal can, knocking it away. She tried it again, a little bit closer, and again, a bit too far to one side. After she was able to keep the bullets hitting the cans, Will had her empty the magazine before telling her to try it with one hand.
"You won't always have access to both your hands, or time to properly aim with both," Will said.
"True," She shrugged after taking her finger off the trigger, changing her stance to stand side on to the metal cans. "If you have access to both hands, use one with the gun, and the other to grab them. That is, if the target is close range."
"Why would you grab them if you can just shoot them?"
"There is a certain satisfaction with watching someone die,"
"That is something I understand greatly,"
"A gun is impersonal." Saskia swapped hands, letting her gun stay in her left hand as she aimed again. "It's the result of a group of events that allows the bullet to hit your target and let them die, they don't always die though. There's just something about knowing they'll die by your hands instead of a gun. While I let Leroy and Liam injure and hurt Samson, I watched as he bled out. I stabbed him in the jugular and watched as the lights in his eyes faded."
"Was it worth it?"
"Yes," Saskia smiled softly, still shooting at the cans and carefully adjusting when the recoil set her back. "After two years of mental and physical abuse from him, I got my revenge. There was something about it that just made me feel free."
Will nodded in agreement.
After an hour or so, and emptying two more magazines, Will decided that Saskia was a decent enough shot to hit anything if she wanted to.
Within moments of getting into the warm, fireplace lit house, Saskia took her boots and jacket off before succumbing to the group of rowdy dogs. She sat on the floor, her back against a soft chair while Countess sat behind her. Two of the bigger dogs, a Burmese Mountain Dog named Zeus, and a scruffy Maltese named Kander, took the spaces between her arms, making sure that they snuggled into her waist. The Jack Russel named
Spike, the goofy Pitbull, couldn't help but make her lift a leg so he laid under one of her knees. The grumpy German Shepherd, Diesel, was laying over her thighs, showing his stomach and not letting her forget her duty to give him belly rubs. An energetic pug named Pip wouldn't stop kicking as he tried to sit into her lap, but since Diesel was in the way, he decided to jump onto the chair and snuggled into her neck.
Winston looked at Countess, blinking before Countess huffed, moving a little until there was enough room. He jumped up and laid, letting Countess' larger form to consume him. They both sneezed at each other and then into Saskia's hair.
"Thanks for that,"
"You all look cozy," Will said, giving Winston an ear rub after handing Saskia a cup of fresh coffee.
She hummed as she sipped it. "Aren't you glad that I taught you how to make proper coffee?"
"It doesn't taste burnt anymore,"
"Milk, or creamer or whatever, first, the boiled water allowed it to stop boiling, and then sweeteners or sugar," Saskia relished in the warmth that the dogs and coffee gave. "It's the only way I can drink instant coffee. Instant coffee should always be branded, and coffee beans taken from fair trade brands."
"And water, not blood in a coffee machine," Will said, smiling into his cup as Saskia snorted a laugh.
"It wasn't that bad. Just the shock of finding blood in it. The machine cost a thousand dollars to replace. Let's just say, I was not happy."
"Why would you spend that much on a coffee machine? It's a ridiculous price, Saskia."
"You get the brand, because it's branded, it costs more, but De'Longhi is worth it. It goes straight from coffee beans to your coffee cup within a minute. It also cleans itself. It's a good investment for long term use."
"You love your coffee, that's for sure,"
"Coffee spelled back words is eeffoc," She smiled. "Let's just say I don't give eef-foc until I get my coffee."
The dogs groaned at the bad joke.
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Review replies:
Peoplerzzzz: I'm glad you find her low-key kinda cool. Yeah, I agree with the people eating bit, but Saskia suspected something was up, and her first reaction to anything bad or negative is to laugh.
D'elfe: I'm happy you like Saskia and her story so far. With Will knowing, I was trying to bring Season 3 Will Graham into my version of him, mixed in with Season 1 will. With him knowing and (kinda/kinda not) helping Hannibal, it prevents some of the plot lines that the show has. So he won't be framed by Hannibal. This story will diverge from Canon slightly but will cover most of the main points like the Red Dragon in Season 3. I've finished up Season 1 of the show, by the end of Season 2, I will have Leroy Harris/Miscreant Killer arc finished, and Saskia can get on with her life a little more.