I do not own Hannibal. Please be advised this writing contains strong language and violence.
The bank was first, she liked keeping cash on hand. Orphan or not, she had never really spent much money on herself ever since she was able to work. This led to her having a fair amount in her account, enough for a house, a car. The occasional bottle of wine. At the moment, she was pushing her cart through the supermarket, ignoring people looking at her. People always stared, she was a young woman with a cane. She gave a start when she bumped into a tall man, dropping the tomato she was holding. He caught it and looked down at her, his expression unreadable yet somehow polite.
"Are you alright?" He asked, his accent was foreign. He offered the tomato.
"Yes, I… Apologize, my mind was wandering. Are you alright? I really didn't mean to bump into you like that." She took the tomato, hastily turning and setting it in her cart.
"Oh yes, I am quite alright, I assure you." He smiled, gazing at the young woman. He took a quick glance at her cart. "Eggs, a tomato, flour. Are you making pasta from scratch?"
"Yes, I am. I've found that it keeps better and tastes better than pre-made." She turned slightly red.
"I must agree. It always tastes better when it's something homemade." He nodded. "Do you cook from scratch often? Forgive me, I shouldn't pry but it isn't often I find another who is interested in the culinary arts."
"No, no, it's not a bother at all." God, why was he making her flustered? She could stare anyone down, yet this man was unnerving her. Even if his eyes were polite, they were studying her. Analyzing her. Worse than what Chilton did. "I try to cook when I can afford it, or else it's usually take-out… Money is a bit tight. But, hopefully the job I was hired onto will help solve that problem."
"Anywhere I know?" He asked politely.
"I- Ah. Sorry. I don't feel comfortable sharing that with a stranger… Have a good night." Eliana hastily pushed her cart away, limping down another aisle.
Hannibal watched her go, thinking. She wasn't rude enough to eat, certainly, even if that exit had been less than tasteful. Perhaps follow her a bit, see if he couldn't catch a glimpse of a name. The internet was a wonderful thing for doing research when he needed it. And he was bored.
Eliana did note the man following her, subtly, but she was paranoid enough that she noticed. As she presented her ID for a bottle of wine, she was certain he took a glance. Wanting to know her age? She didn't know and she wasn't about to take any chances. She politely thanked the cashier before taking her bags and hurrying out, leaving her cart in the path of the man following her. She also could have just been being paranoid, he didn't follow her out or anything. Maybe it was nothing.
Her home was small, modest. It was the best she could afford at the moment. Mostly maintained shrubs, the grass was cut on a regular basis. She paid someone to do it. She cared somewhat for maintaining appearances. She sighed as she unlocked the door, stepping inside. No cat to greet her? Odd… Morrigan usually greeted her. Eliana set her keys in the dish beside the front door, turning back towards the door to step out and start bringing groceries in.
"Don't move." A voice said behind her, a gun cocking. She didn't know that voice.
"What is this?" She said slowly. Anyone outside couldn't see the situation, she was blocking any view of him and the gun.
"Shut up! Shut the door. Now!" The burglar snapped.
Eliana hated the fact that she was trembling. She stepped back, shutting the door and turning to face him. He held the gun right in front of her face.
"Any money you have. Give it now." He sneered, gesturing with the gun to her purse. "Fucking bitch. You're a fucking cripple. The money. Now!"
Eliana slowly reached down into her purse. "You didn't hurt Morrigan, did you? My cat." She opened it, digging through it for her wallet.
"No. I'm not a fucking monster. Hurry up!" He snapped as he stared at her.
Eliana offered her wallet to him, crying out as he smacked her across the face with the gun. She fell backwards into her door, staring up at him as tears stung her eyes. He grabbed her wallet off the floor.
Something snapped in her.
Her grip tightened on her cane, throwing herself forward and slamming it into the back of his right leg. He yelled, tripping forward and falling onto her floor. The gun slid a short distance away across the wood floor. Eliana lunged on top of him, grabbing his hair and slamming his face down into the wood. Repeatedly. He shifted his weight, flipping her over so she was beneath him, his hands around her neck, squeezing. He kept choking her. Black dots danced across her eyes. The gun. Where was the gun? Her eyes found it, she strained, reaching. He kept squeezing. Her fingers touched it. She couldn't fire it, she threw it at him instead. His grip loosened enough for her to kick at him with her good leg even as she wheezed. He fell backwards, dazed from his face to face meeting with the floor. She clawed her way up, grabbing one of her stone cat figurines off the shelf. She slammed it into his skull. He fell to the floor, not moving. Blood started coming from the wound.
"Fuck… Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck." Eliana dropped the figurine, staring. Her head was swimming from her choking and from this. Had she just fucking killed someone? She sank onto the couch, staring at his body. If she called the police, they would find her guilty. But it was self defense, wasn't it? She hadn't done anything wrong. With a trembling hand, she dialed 911.
Not long after, she found herself being watched like a mouse among hawks by the police, an emergency responder checking her neck.
"You'll definitely bruise. Hard to know if there's any internal damage without doing a scan." He frowned, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders. Eliana hadn't spoken since they arrived, watching the zipped up bag containing her gardener be wheeled out.
"We're going to take you down to Baltimore Hospital, Miss Shaw, but you will be kept under guarded supervision until we can examine the crime scene and get your side of the story." A detective approached, adjusting her coat. "As a precaution, we're confiscating your cane."
"M… Morrigan, my cat. What will happen to her?" She rasped out.
The detective paused. "For now, she'll be given to a local shelter. Simply for housing, not to be adopted. Ain't cruel, won't do that unless you're convicted of anything."
Eliana hated that answer but she nodded. "If you'll come with us." The detective was at least polite, Eliana nodding and getting up, limping towards the cruiser. She let herself be guided into it.