Chapter 22
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There were still nights Saskia couldn't sleep, and that night was one of them.
Around four am, only a couple hours after getting released by the FBI, Saskia laid in Hannibal's bed with Hannibal to the middle, her on his right side and Will on his left. She remained still for those hours, faking sleep or something close to it while time waned on. Both men seemed to be asleep, deep asleep with even breaths and slowly raising chests.
She took a breath, exhaling as slowly and as silently as she could before untucking the bedding and getting out. Wearing nothing but a thong, Saskia pulled on a discarded charcoal dressing gown and knotted the belt loosely. When they slept in the bed together, they usually wore the same amount of clothes, which was usually nothing or just underwear.
Leaving them with a final glance, she was out of the room before stopping in the hall. The dogs snored loudly, almost making the sound echo in the silent house.
It was eerily quiet.
She faintly heard the breathing of the humans in the house, almost drowned out by the dogs' snores. It became fainter and fainter as she walked down the stairs.
For the last several months, Saskia called this large house home. She was so used to being alone and never having to share anything, but here she wasn't alone and she shared without complaining.
She was the kind of person to complain when there was a chance.
Stopping in the kitchen, Saskia flicked the kettle on before she twisted the rings on her hands. She had been wearing the same two rings ever since she was in her teens. Both silver with blue gems, the thin thumb ring was from her dad and the ring that sat on her right middle finger was made of her dad's ashes and was commissioned by her mother. It was one of the things she actually kept that her mother gave her.
Just the thought of her mother made her angry.
Saskia wanted to throw that ring down the disposal when thoughts of her mother surfaced, but she wouldn't insult her father's memory by doing so.
It was hard to think that Saskia still loved her mother, but it really wasn't her mother who she loved but the concept of a parent that should have loved and protected her.
Instead of being protected, she had to learn how to protect herself and that meant having to learn the fake personality she put on everyday until she left that environment. With darkness around her, that was where she grew. She took what little affection she got and took all the negative remarks, disgusting comments, and absurd behaviours thrown at her and made a little cocktail that almost became her.
But Saskia wasn't a dark person.
Light doesn't exist without the darkness to cushion it.
She was a happy person. She liked a good laugh, good food, good people. She liked to look outside and see the new day dawning, making her appreciate the light she had in her life before the dark of the night came and calmed her. She liked to see the good in everyone because she had seen the bad. There had to be balance.
She didn't like being sad. Being sad was boring and she didn't like being bored.
At the young age of fourteen, Saskia took every little remark, every comment, every word that was thrown at her to make her feel small and unloved, and brought it to the frail beast inside of her. After that point, the beast began to devour every abusive move her mother made and turned it into boiling rage. Every snapped word her sisters said to her was thrown back at them with the bearing of teeth and the promise of something worse to come.
It might have taken her years to realise that she couldn't help but be the victim of the abuse. While she was the victim, it didn't mean she had to stay like that.
With an imagination of an artist and writer, Saskia quickly began to draw and write the fantasties she wished she could fulfil.
The three sisters of her Murder With Miscreants series were based on her sisters. Three sisters, three killers, too many times she was a victim of theirs.
Unlike her sisters who had love and affection delivered on a silver spoon, she learned to lick it off the knives that stabbed her back in betrayal. Those knives sharpened her tongue, her wit, and her claws, chipping away at the victim to show the survivor hidden.
With the money from her grandmother and her father, she was able to start to control her own life. Even with university, she never wanted to go but her mother insisted on it. What was the point of her going to university to study Psychology and Sociology when she couldn't be bothered to get a PhD? Of course there was the benefit of using what she learned in those classes to better write her characters and their interactions, they were otherwise useless for her as she was a writer and an author.
She was not the abuse she was given, nor what they said to her, nor the trauma it all caused.
Saskia Alasite was the child that grew up too soon, the one that had to think of every word, every action before she did them because she knew there would be consequences. She was the child that watched her words in fear of being called disrespectful and a disgrace, the child that kept her failures to herself because she would be compared to her better sisters and be shown how much love she could have got if she was better, the child that had to read fairy tales to herself because her sisters needed the attention.
While she had narcissistic tendencies, those revolved around her not needing another to be seen as beautiful. It didn't take long for her to start mirroring her mother's behaviour back to her, showing her the monster Saskia became under her care.
She wasn't shown the love she needed as a child, so she sought the love she wanted in the wrong places as an adult…
She had her back to the counter, her hands clasped around the teacup, now cold as realisation hit her and she dropped the teacup.
Trembling as she suddenly felt cold, Saskia allowed the emotions she had packed away into the tiny little boxes to emerge from the hidden rooms of her mind palace. They opened up the emotions she never wanted to feel. Vulnerable. Weak. Small. Unloved. Unwanted. A mistake, that one was her favourite since it got her beast rumbling.
Just as the teacup shattered on the ground, the four leaf clover inside the box in the private room of her mind started to wilt and rot. The ring of her mother's representation began to tarnish and melt into a mess that was more blob than ring. Only the gem remained and was added back to her father's ring.
When she looked down at the teacup, she noticed it hadn't shattered as she had expected. It had broken clean into two pieces and she smiled.
Two sides.
Victim and Survivor.
Alexandria.
Saskia.
"Are you alright?" Will's voice suddenly appeared from the doorway and made Saskia snap her gaze up as she got the two pieces. "I noticed you left the bed earlier. Did you make some tea?"
"Yeah. I dropped my cup, it was my favourite too," She said, placing the pieces to the side. "Why are you up? It's only four in the morning."
"Saskia," He stepped forward with concern. "It's six in the morning. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"
She sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just been thinking alot. Coffee?"
He nodded.
It didn't take long for Hannibal to get downstairs. Since it was a sunday now, and Hannibal didn't like to take clients on the weekends, they got to see him with his hair all rustled and him shirtless in only pajama trousers. It was funny compared to Will's outfit of only underwear and a thrown on vest, and Saskia's robe and underwear.
Hannibal passed a hand over Will's jaw in greeting as he gave him a peck on the cheek to which Will just smiled. It was returned before Hannibal went to Saskia, holding the back of her head and knowing the trust he had with her allowing him to do so. He left a kiss on her forehead, lingering for a moment before frowning as he smelt salt water that was associated with tears. He lifted her chin, now making her look him in the eyes as he saw the slight redness around them.
"You've been crying." It wasn't a question.
His hand stayed on the base of her neck, knowing it would be a welcomed comfort he found out she had.
She hated it when someone she didn't trust touched her neck, back or shoulder blades, but his hand was very much welcomed as his thumb grazed the side of her throat and upto her ear. She leaned into it, shifting her gaze away before returning it back to his and Will's curious eyes.
"I was thinking about my past," She started, a hand running through the hair on her scalp as it was a nervous tic of hers. "About my mum, my sisters, Leroy, Samson. About the abuse and the love. And I realised something…"
With her trailing off, Hannibal prompted, "What did you realise?"
"The type of love I was given as a child was the type of love I was willing to give as an adult." He dropped his hand slowly as she shook her head. "Just as my mother molded my sisters into copies of her, I molded Leroy into mine. Just as I was ridiculed and made to feel little, I let Samson do that to me because it was all I knew. I could have left him at any moment but I finally found someone who wanted me."
She rubbed her hands together as she felt the cold tea on them, now having a new cup of coffee within reach. Clutching the cup near her chest as she softly drank from it, she hoped she didn't drop that cup too. Something inside her said that this new cup wouldn't shatter, wouldn't crack or break. It would stay in one piece as it would thud against the ground, staying complete and whole.
Like her.
"After years of mental and emotional abuse, you sought out love in the forms you knew it in," Hannibal said, his voice soft as a feather as he knew Saskia still had stuff to work through before she could let her past get behind her where it should be. "You took what you could get and made the best of it. You did the best job you could have."
"The best job?" Saskia laughed mirthlessly, her own voice quiet as she knew the girls were still asleep. She bit the inside of her lip, needing the tiny bit of pain. "I mirrored my mother's actions in manipulating and abusing someone. I'm not gonna blame myself for making Leroy but it is my fault he spiraled because he should have been dead years ago. I couldn't bring myself to kill him, my creation, my perfection in human form. I love him just as I love my mother. I only love the idea of them, not actually them."
"While you hate your family, you cannot help but love them in the same way." Will said. "They created you, shaped you into what you are now."
"Shaped me?" Saskia spat and left her cup on the side. "I took what they gave me and I took my broken spirit and mind and made it into something they couldn't ignore. I didn't make myself into a monster to scare them, I made myself so I could protect myself. I fed the beast the darkness they showed me and yet the beast found a way to find light.
"I could have let them abuse and use me. Let them break what I had to satisfy their needs for a scapegoat in the family. I could have let them win, morph and shape me into what they wanted to create, and I would have died. If I didn't realise that the darkness had comforts too, I would have killed myself."
"You could have but you didn't." Will said. "You grew and flourished in an environment that was supposed to stop you.
"I could have but I didn't, I didn't let them have that satisfaction," She grasped the two pieces of the broken teacup, looking at the perfectly identical pieces before seeing the cracks on one side. "I let them continue doing that to me because I knew I could handle it. The beast was hungry for the anger, rage, pain my family inflicted, and it grew with me. I survived them, my mother didn't. Did I ever tell you why I changed my name?"
Hannibal shook his head while Will just slightly nodded.
"Because Alexandria and Saskia are two different people. One a victim, the other a survivor," The cracked piece of the teacup hit the bottom of the bin with a smash, breaking further. "Alexandria was the lamb ready for slaughter and Saskia was, is the lion ready for a feast."
The other piece dropped into the bin with a solid thud.
She turned around, a sudden smile on her lips now as she shook off the sadness she held and let relief fill her. She knew why she did the things she did, and she grew.
"What do you want for breakfast?" She asked.
She slept better that night.
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Hannibal's alarm was the one that went off at five thirty on a Monday.
She slept between them that night, and now had her head buried into Will's neck as she grumbled at the sound of the alarm at this ungodly hour. Will laid on his back, an arm behind his head as he laughed at her antics and traced her spine with his fingers. He had watched Hannibal leave the room with a nod in greeting...
Hannibal had left them there, knowing they would get up when it was time. He finished his small breakfast and brought up a tray, placing it onto Will's side of the bed. Two burning coffees, done to each one's preferences, and a scone sat there on the small plates and saucers. He began his routine in the bathroom.
Will nudged her gently, getting her to lean forward as he handed her a cup. She smiled sleepily and sipped at it, letting the warm liquid consume her. She sat up as Will still laid down, now both of them checked their email on their phones and didn't see anything too important for that day so far. Will nibbled on the scone, finishing it easily.
Her smartwatch went off on her wrist, vibrating and making noise as time waned off. She turned the alarm off with a frown and a yawn.
"Guess we have to get up too then." Saskia got out of the bed, stretching her arms upwards as her muscles ached.
While Will started his own routine in the bathroom, Saskia went back to her room to find all of the dogs sleeping on the bed. She shook her head and went to her own bathroom before grabbing an underwear and bra set.
She put on enough makeup to accent her features, not hide them. That was the point of makeup, to enhance what you had and hide what you didn't like as much. Saskia loved everything she had, even if she didn't favour the bridge of her nose but she got that from her father. Not deciding on her lipstick until she decided on her outfit, Saskia walked back into Hannibal's room to find both men getting dressed.
"Should I go for the dark red or purple?" She asked, holding out two different coloured dresses, both really close to being black but not quite dark enough. When she noticed that they both stopped and stared, she realised what she was wearing at the moment.
She only wore a strapless black bra with matching thong and stockings accenting her legs, being held up by a garterbelt. There was even a really faint lace design on the stockings. Her hair was pulled back for now, and her lips were bare of colour.
"Guys," She said, snapping her fingers and trying to get them out of their strange but expected trances. "Red or purple? I was thinking red because I have a lipstick that would go with it."
Hannibal nodded, his eyes trailing her form with his tongue flicking out to lick at his bottom lip as he said, "Depending on what shoes you are going to wear."
"My black Louboutin ankle boot heels,"
"Red would better accent the shoes," Will agreed absently.
"Thanks!" She walked out of the room with a bigger sway to her hips because she knew exactly what she was doing to them.
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They could hear her before they saw her.
Hair slicked up into a high ponytail, it brought the attention to her eyes and the red lip. The dress was such a dark red that it seemed black under anything that wasn't direct light. Molded to her curves and strapless, it went down to her knees but the stretchy material allowed her to move freely. Her feet were encased in the black ankle heels with the red bottoms. Nails already done from a couple weeks prior, she didn't need to worry about them for another week or so.
She held her black clutch in hand, texting on her phone before putting both on the clean metal counters as she turned to both of them.
"Can one of you help me put on my necklace?" She asked sincerely. "I can't with my claws." She was referring to her long nails.
Will took the silver necklace out of her hands, gesturing for her to turn around as he clipped it on. "You removed a ring."
"Yeah," She shrugged and touched the dainty silver necklace with a tiny blue gem. "I don't want anything of my mother's. I took the gem out and had the necklace made yesterday."
"That was fast,"
"Margot knows people. Speaking of Margot, a member of her extended family has been trying to haggle her about her child and the money she got." Saskia said. "I've got to explain to another member of her family that they don't have any right to her money nor do their children, nor do they have a right to see the child she is having."
"Are you bringing your gun?"
Saskia tilted her head in question. "Should I? I mean, Leroy is in custody now."
"Neither of us leave without something," Hannibal said, pausing before nodding once. "Follow me, please."
Both men had dressed smartly. It seemed Will's style had changed over the last few months, becoming more polished and clean as he spent time with them. He was never pressured into changing but sometimes change was good, he felt more confident and assured of himself when he dressed nice.
As always, Hannibal wore his suit with a tie and matching pocket square. Will had on a burgundy shirt tucked into black slacks and polished shoes. There were days where he dressed down, just as Hannibal and Saskia had those days too. Not everyday warranted a polished look. He wore jeans when he wanted to be casual or when he had a scene to look at that would not be kind to his clothes.
Hannibal walked into his home office, going to one of the locked cupboards and sliding open a drawer. He placed the box onto the table and gestured for Saskia to take it.
Within the box was a beautiful butterfly knife with a completely black finish. It was five inches long when closed but ten inches long when the blade was out.
Hannibal took it, flicking his wrist as he opened it and showed her the same black finish on the blade itself.
"There is a disputed history of the balisong knife, or the butterfly knife as it is more commonly known. Some believe it had origins in eight hundred AD, others may say they were only manufactured in the nineteen hundred. Nonetheless, I felt this blade suited you best." Hannibal said, another hand going to his pocket as he took out his own knife. "Will has a modified version of an army swift blade, making it efficient for many things while I have a harpy that does my job perfectly."
Will held out his knife, showing her the black handle and she noticed the design.
"These animals, what do they mean?" Saskia asked, her butterfly blade closed as she looked at the design on both sides of the handle. Two tiny lions stood on their back legs with their forelegs pressed together.
Hannibal smiled sadly but there was a sign of adoration in his eyes. "The design put together is my family's crest. You have the two lions that would hold it together, Will has the two raven that sit atop and look outwards, and mine has the snake that would attack the enemies when they came too close."
"That's clever," She smiled in thanks. "My family didn't have a crest. If we did, any mention of it was destroyed by the Nazis during the second world war."
"Saskia," Hannibal said seriously, his eyes narrowed to show how much he meant his next words. "I made Will promise me this and I want you to do the same; I want you to keep this on you at all times. Even if you bring your gun with you, I do not want you to even think of leaving the house without the knife."
"That's another accessory I'm going to be wearing from now on," She nodded, tucking the closed blade into the left side of her dress, right between her arm and her left breast. It was close to heart then. "I'll ask Rene to add in a pocket to my clothes next time I get them done."
"I want you to promise me you'll always have it on you,"
"My word means more than any promise I could ever make. While I break promises, I keep my word forever." She paused. "You have my word, Hannibal."
His hug was warm as he tucked Saskia into his side. When he gestured for Will to come and join them, he realised that the three of them fit perfectly together. He liked the feeling of them there, their own arms coming around him and each other. He liked the swirling scents of home, of safety, of desire, of the perfection that they made within his presence.
He made the right choice in bringing Saskia into their fold. She fitted like the gap was carved for her, sanded and molded so she fit snugly without ever being uncomfortable. Hannibal had thought that Abigail was the one to fit into the mold, to create a little family. He didn't need a family when he had these two.
A knock at the front door interrupted them.
"That will be the car Margot sent, I'm not driving in this outfit," Saskia stated, looking at both of them with bright eyes.
"We best get ready to leave too," Will said, handing her the clutch she forgot in the kitchen.
All three of them walked to the foyer where Countess already sat with her leash in her mouth. Will took the clutch again and watched Hannibal helping her into the pure black woolen coat. It dropped to just above her knees and showed off her figure as well.
They both received a quick peck on the corner of the lips before she was grabbing her clutch and strutting to the hired car, the canine companion chasing after her mistress. The man who was driving the car had gotten out to help her into it, closing the door after her before tipping his hat to the two men at the door of the house. He got back into the car and they were off.
"What lectures do you have planned?" Hannibal asked Will as soon as they were back into the house.
"A lecture or two on Leroy Harris," Will almost rolled his eyes at Hannibal's unhappy little snarl of the lips. "I'm not happy about it. But I am happy about him being gone. Are you sure it was wise to give her the knife so soon?"
"Soon? She's proven herself so far and I doubt she will show us any reason to question her," Hannibal said. "She's already begun to make plans in case anything goes south, including if any or all of us were incarcerated."
"Has she told you about them?"
"No,"
"How have you found out?"
"She's never without a plan in place. And now she's added us into the plans."
They both knew Saskia was a selfish person, only making plans and stuff up that would benefit herself alone. Since she had started to add them into everything, they knew this was becoming serious and permanent.
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"I swear some people are just burst lightbulbs waiting to happen," Alana complained, sitting next to Margot on the huge couch in the Verger manor. They had finished having an argument with the relative and now just sat in the mansion.
"Some people just make a day brighter when they leave," Margot said, leaning into Alana's side.
Margot and Alana sat on one long couch, Saskia taking the loveseat near it with Countess curling around the edge of it. For a reason Saskia wasn't going to question just yet, there were two glasses on the glass table in front of them along with a bottle of very old and expensive wine.
"That woman, what did she call herself? Oh, my cousin's aunt's daughter, I think. Well, she has been hounding me for days about the little one," Margot said, a hand on the bottom of her expanding stomach. "Alana has had to stop me from sending profanities towards her."
"Someone has to keep you safe and others sane while you grow him," Alana smiled.
"So," Saskia said and clicked her tongue playfully, her eyes going between them. "How long has this been going on? How serious is it?"
"Not for very long, a couple of months I think," Alana's hand went to Margot's, holding it with a softness she hadn't had before. "I'm hoping this is a permanent thing."
Margot took her hand, placing it on top of her belly with her hands clasping Alana's. There was a hopefulness in her eyes, something soft and vulnerable, something beautiful blooming. "So do I. We've, well I've been meaning to talk to you, Saskia."
She sat up in the loveseat, eyebrow raising a little as a small look of playful wariness played at her features. "Well, that doesn't sound good, now does it?"
"It's nothing bad," Margot laughed, making Alana smile in adoration at her. "I think it's a good thing but I don't know if you would."
"Stop stalling and tell her already, Margot," Alana tutted, squeezing her hand firmly. "Saskia isn't for hesitations and secrets, not when the secret has to do with her."
"Fine," Margot turned to Saskia, moving both her hands until they laid on her stomach before asking, "Will you be Morgan's GodMother?"
"You've chosen a name?"
"We need an answer, Saskia."
"Of course, I'll be the GodMother. Someone has to spoil the kid rotten," She glanced to the wine. "Is that what the glasses are for?"
"Yes. Unlike you two, I still can't drink and probably won't until after I stopped breastfeeding," Margot said as Alana leaned forward and began to pour the wine. She handed one to Saskia while Alana kept one to herself. "What about you and your relationships recently? Hannibal and Will?"
Saskia froze, a grin tugging at her lips. "How did you figure that out?"
"Saskia, have you seen the way they look at you?" Alana shook her head at Saskia, turning to Margot. "And I thought we were mushy."
"Dear, you should have seen the way they looked at her when Mason asked her to dance at the Christmas charity event we had to go to. They looked murderous and kept an eye on them until she got back." Margot said.
They turned back to Saskia, who was now reaching for the bottle again.
"If I'm having this conversation with you two," Saskai poured more wine into her glass, sipping again at it. "I'm going to need more wine."
"You are one lucky woman, Saskia. How did you get both of them? Do they know?"
Saskia laughed. "They know. They were in a relationship before I came along."
"Double the fun," Margot snickered.
"And about two dozen dirty paws along with that."
Countess didn't even bother to lift her head, making a rumbling noise before yawning again and going back to sleep.
"Countess approves the message."
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