I do not own anything related to Hannibal, either thru television, or written books. Everything belongs to Thomas Harris and Bryan Fuller. I do own all the created characters. I do not own any songs, or literature mentioned. They are included to enhance the written words. Please read, review, and enjoy!
Hannibal is a gritty, provocative, seductive, murderous bloody show. My chapters contain scenes of violence, sex, drugs, language, triggers, traumas and sometimes hard to stomach scenes. I will give warnings at the beginning of chapters.
This story is rated M.
TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDE
Chapter Fourteen
Song(s): If I Were You (K.D. Lang)
1 North Clinton Street, Baltimore, Maryland…
Two Weeks Later…
January 5
Running the water in the kitchen sink, Oliveah sprayed some lemon scented dish soap and grabbed the worn-out sponge. Her dishes were few from dinner and as she dumped her cutlery into the water, she heard a throat clear from the doorway.
"You and Andrew are still not on speaking terms?" Tyler's voice rang out as he leaned against the warped wooden frame and ignored the splinters digging into his arm.
Setting her knife and fork on the edge of the dish rack, Oliveah shook her head and continued washing.
"I've done nothing wrong Tyler," she proclaimed as her housemate equally nodded his head.
"I agree with you. I think he was more pissed that you bailed when everything would be closed over Christmas and courts…would be closed too," he spoke as Oliveah pulled the plug in the sink.
"On Christmas Eve, I went to see Will Graham at the Baltimore State Hospital."
"Jesus, on Christmas? Why the hell would you do something like that Olive?" Tyler spat as he watched her take a seat at the wooden table.
"Despite what you, Andrew, and everyone else in Maryland may believe, I don't believe Will killed Abigail."
"Now that's bold considering the blood found all over the kitchen floor in her old house and her half-chewed ear."
That fucking Freddie Lounds must be paying someone under the table for information and those fucking pictures from the house
"Just because a complete body hasn't been found yet, doesn't mean that kid isn't dead."
Snapping back to attention as she heard Tyler's voice, Oliveah looked down at her fingers and pictured the dirt and mud that had smeared from her gripping Will's hands back in Wolf Trap. In the bowels of the hospital for the criminally insane, she had heard Will screaming her name and she had seen his arm painfully twisting through the metal bars of his cell before she threw up in the guard's garbage can out of sight.
Will had demanded that Hannibal bring her back to him.
"That man is sick Oliveah, and he is locked up now so he can't hurt anybody else…including you. And for that? I am thankful."
Taking a deep breath as Tyler rose to his feet, she watched as he stretched his arms up over his head before letting out a groan.
"I know Christmas was just over two weeks ago, but I am still struggling to fit into my jeans. Carole knows how to make a mean feast," he spoke as Oliveah stretched back in the chair.
Poor you, eating lots of good food and feeling full
Shaking her head at the cruel thought, Oliveah turned around watched as Tyler moved to the fridge taking out a glass container of leftovers.
You chose to not go with them to Hoboken. You chose to stay behind for Will Graham, and you couldn't even see him through the iron bars of his cell
"Speaking of a mean feast…did you see your Doctor Lecter over Christmas?"
"He was with me, or rather, I was with him, on Christmas to see Will. And then…."
Closing the door to the oven after adjusting the temperature to heat up the last of the Christmas leftovers, Tyler turned around and shoved his hands in his pant pockets as he noted her silence.
"I know I already said this, but he scares me Olive. When you were leaving with him that night, I caught him putting his hand on your lower back and it just screamed possessiveness. I get he is successful, has probably a shit ton of money but…. are you sure you want to get involved with him?"
"You kept your promise to Tyler," she whispered as Hannibal took the bullet from her fingers.
"I kept you alive not for the boy…"
"Abel Gideon is not the Chesapeake Ripper" she breathed, feeling a knot growing in her stomach.
"He is not. But you know who is. I want you to say it Oliveah.."
"Yes."
Her answer was as simple as it was truthful.
"Then Andrew will just have to mind his manners at the table when Doctor Lecter comes over for dinner."
Holding her breath as she pictured Hannibal sitting at the broken wooden kitchen table, she could hear his elegantly accented words breaking through the silence.
"Oliveah, this simply will not do…"
"I have a meeting with Dr. Bloom tomorrow and I'm scared shitless that I'm going to lose my job" she blurted out as Tyler closed the oven door after giving its contents a stir.
"You think because that Hobbs girl is dead, Dr. Bloom will have no use for you?" he questioned, grabbing a clean fork from the dish rack.
"I have no idea what's going to happen Tyler."
Sitting back down in the opposite chair, Tyler rubbed at the scruff on his chin as the smell of leftovers overtook the kitchen air.
"I don't think she will fire you just because that girl is dead. You helped her with the Chesapeake Ripper so she obviously can use you in other areas of her work."
Feeling the blood drain in her face, Oliveah looked down to her hands as Tyler's words hit home.
The Chesapeake Ripper…
He means Abel Gideon; the only man who has come forward to claim the title.
Not Hannibal Lecter
"I suppose you're right. I mean, I can offer to file paperwork or fetch her coffee as a last resort" she spoke as the timer went off on her housemates phone. Watching Tyler stand to his feet, she trained her eyes on his back and thought of Abel Gideon.
You were right Dr. Gideon, Chilton must have planted the idea of you being the Chesapeake Ripper, because only I know who he really is.
…
Dr. Alana Bloom's Office, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, MD…
January 6th
Sitting outside Dr. Bloom's office, the young, brown haired green eyed Masters student had a vision from back in September when she had sat in this very same spot under similar circumstances.
She had been informed by written mail that her original thesis advisor had simply disappeared and was to be replaced. Upon meeting Alana Bloom, she not only felt her new advisor more competent, but someone she could learn from.
Hearing the door open, Oliveah stood to her feet before Alana had the chance to speak her name.
"I'm running a bit Oliveah, come have a seat inside and I'll be back in a minute" Alana offered as she held a sealed manila envelope in her hand. Taking a seat in the chair across from the large oak office desk, Oliveah's eyes fell on the still unhung diplomas and awards that had caught her attention in September.
Her appointment here was always temporary, perhaps too temporary to think about wall hangings and matching table lamps she thought as she spied a closed Moleskin notebook centered on the desk.
Personal observations and recordings Dr. Bloom?
"Thank you for coming Oliveah. With everything that's happening right now, it's important not to forget progress and deadlines" Alana's tired voice broke out from behind as she remained seated and looking forward. Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Dr. Bloom rolled up the sleeves of her black cardigan before taking a seat behind her desk.
Folding her hands together in front of her, Alana swallowed hard and touched the notebook at her fingertips.
"Firstly, we need to discuss academics. You are still on track to submit your thesis to the department by March?"
Nodding her head, Oliveah knew what Bloom was doing. She was saving the worst topic of discussion for last.
"I have a few more resources to go through; Skinner's Verbal Behavior, and Galton's Inquiries into Human Faculty and its Development, but all my notes and research are together in order for submission to you and the department" she confirmed, hoping that there would be no further derailments.
What more derailments could there possible be?
William Graham is in prison awaiting trial for multiple murders, and Abigail Hobbs is dead
A relationship perhaps…
"I'm glad to hear that. I'm hoping that after you graduate, you take some time to seriously think about your next path and where it will take you. I don't think Baltimore can offer anything else; to either of us" she added as Oliveah felt her mind wandering once more with questions.
Hannibal Lecter is in Baltimore.
"Baltimore has never felt like home to me" Oliveah spoke as Bloom leaned back in her chair.
"I must say, I will be anxious to put Baltimore behind me and return to Georgetown. After Will's trial, I will no longer be working with Jack Crawford and the BSU" she spoke as she fixed her eyes hard on Oliveah.
"What I wish to discuss with you finally, concerns your employment with me."
Shifting in her chair, Oliveah crossed her legs in the bid to keep from bouncing her knee.
This was it.
"I want to keep you on during Will's trail. You know that I am working on a defense for him from a professional Psychologist perspective, but I can use your assistance until his trail concludes after spring. When the trail has finished, I will be taking a leave of absence and your employment with me will end."
It was straight forward and to the point. No sugar coating.
"I can accept that Dr. Bloom and I appreciate it. I really do."
Thank god, I will not be without money.
But it's time to seriously start thinking about what I will do after I graduate in five months' time.
Ph.D?
A job in research?
A secretarial position for a certain Psychiatrist?
Silence fell over the office as Oliveah watched Alana open the notebook on her desk.
"Can I ask what defense you are using?"
"Automatism."
Performance of actions without conscious thought or intention
"It's a rarely used criminal defense, but with Jack, my and Hannibal's testimonies, and Will's medical records I think we've got a shot" Alana confirmed as Oliveah debated whether to ask her next question.
"Dr. Bloom, do you really believe Will is innocent?"
Hearing her question, Alana sat back in her chair and cleared her throat.
"I believe in innocent until proven guilty. I believe that Will did not fully understand what actions he was taking, I believe that his mind was and is still on fire."
"Bringing into question his conscious is going to open the door to debates about his mental state" Oliveah offered as Bloom frowned.
"That is a risk I am willing to take."
"How is he doing?"
Hearing her quiet question, Alana blinked quickly and tapped her fingers along her notebook.
"I've only seen him twice since he was taken into custody. Frederick is keeping a very tight restraint on who requests to see Will."
"If I were to guess, I would say Dr. Chilton wants to keep Will all to himself like a prized pet" Oliveah spoke out as Alana stared with no expression.
"That would make sense with his ego" she replied as she closed her mouth and lowered her eyes onto the cover of her notebook.
"I have a favor to ask of you Oliveah."
Perking her ears up, she focused her eyes on Bloom and had an idea of what she was about to ask.
"The administer at Port Haven called me yesterday. The facility needs Abigail's room for another patient that is being transferred and they would like someone to collect her things." Watching Bloom's face, Oliveah could see that mentioning Abigail's name hurt deep and as she nodded her head in agreement to the task, she remembered back to the last time she had visited Abigail just before Christmas…
"Nobody ever brings me anything, further proof that I am being treated like a prisoner"
"What I've done I can never undue. Those girls are dead, and I am alive. "I'll forever be a monster in everyone's eyes and if Agent Crawford and the FBI ever find out what I did…"
You don't have to worry about what anyone thinks anymore Abigail
"I can go this afternoon" Oliveah offered as Bloom gave a weak smile.
"The FBI have already gone through her things to see if there was anything detailing her whereabouts so if there is anything you would like to take, please, take it. Otherwise, just donate everything to the Baltimore Outreach."
Nodding her head, Oliveah caught the hint of guilt in her advisor's voice as she gave permission to dispose of Abigail Hobbs's possessions.
Were the FBI solely looking for clues to her whereabouts? Or where they really looking for further evidence of her involvement with her father under Jack Crawford's command? Oliveah thought as she rose to her feet and left the warm office.
…
Port Haven Psychiatric Hospital, Baltimore, Maryland…
1:12pm
Following the attendant up the wooden steps and down the hallway, Oliveah felt curious eyes on her back as patients were being led out of the social gathering room for afternoon snack. Entering the old stone building, her nose had picked up oregano and heavy pepper spices as she signed her name and produced her picture identification for the final time.
I won't miss this place that's for sure
Halting in front of Abigail's doorway, Oliveah heard the jingle of keys as Barney unlocked the door but refrained from throwing it wide open.
"It's too bad Maryland abolished the death penalty. I would have liked to see Will Graham go under the needle for what he's done to her. She was young enough and strong enough to work through what happened."
Hearing Barney's low words, Oliveah said nothing as the man looked down to the cloth bags in her hand.
"If you need more bags, I can bring some up" he offered, turning away from the door and leaving Oliveah alone. Staring at the closed door, she flexed the fingers of her free hand and breathed out deeply.
I was young enough
Have I worked through what happened to me?
Twisting open the round handle, her eyes fell over the made-up single hospital bed, desk, pine wardrobe, and white curtained window. Looking over the interior of the room, it was only then that she really noticed certain wooden panels of the walls were painted Robin's Egg blue to match the door while other sections were wall papered over with flowers and vines.
Moving over to the desk, Oliveah switched on the antique brass desk lamp and slowly pulled open the first drawer.
Empty.
Pulling open the second drawer, she found the copy of Flannery O'Connor's Anthology Dr. Bloom had gifted Abigail her third night in the hospital. Picking the soft cover book up in her hand, Oliveah flipped it over and scanned the brief biography.
American Writer
Essayist
An important voice in American Literature
"The Margaret Atwood of America" she whispered, as she slipped it into one of the bags. Finding a few pens and a charcoal pencil in the last drawer, Oliveah laid them on the desktop before walking to the window. Pushing aside the light curtain, she looked out into the snowy backyard of the facility and spied a few patients dressed in white gowns with thick coats strolling with family members.
Stepping back, she turned her attentions to the wardrobe and pulled open the double doors. Hanging directly to her left were five scarves of a variety of colors and patterns.
"I can hide what happened to me. All I need is a scarf to pass."
Hearing Abigail's innocent words passing through her mind, Oliveah reached out and lightly touched the thin fabric of a green and blue woven pattern.
"She tried to fit in."
Grabbing the scarves and laying them gently on the bed, she returned to the closet and took out the rest of the clothing including the dusty pink boxy ribbed knit sweater she remembered Abigail had bought on their first "escape" from the hospital with the last of the money in her wallet.
Staring at the items folded on the bed, she would not keep anything.
"These can go to others who need them more" she spoke out loud as she moved to the small table beside the bed. Pulling open the drawer, she found Bloom's white envelope of itunes gift cards, cd player, and compact discs most of which were still sealed in their factory wrapping.
"Next time, you pick out the clothes and music."
Setting everything on the bed, she wasted no time in shoving everything into the bags she had brought. Brushing her bangs out of her eyes, she surveyed her work and sat the two bags down at her feet.
"She didn't have much."
She never had much
Taking a light seat on the edge of the bed, Oliveah brought her eyes onto the window once more and stared at the soft light that came in through the lace curtains. Clicking her tongue against her teeth, she looked down and stared into the bags.
"What did you do in here Abigail when you weren't out jumping the wall and fence?" Oliveah wondered out loud as she felt herself sinking into the mattress.
You're going to flip the bed if you settle more weight on the edge her conscious broke out as Oliveah held her breath.
What did I do when I was first sent to Children's Aid?
I wrote
Rising to her feet, she turned around and stared at the bed as she remembered the writing instruments tucked into the bag.
"But no notebook, unless…"
Reaching down, Oliveah pulled up the corner of the mattress she had been sitting on and pushed it aside while scanning her eyes over the wooden support board.
"Bingo!"
Feeling the weight of the mattress on her back as she reached forward, her fingers gripped the edge of a small black five-star spiral book and as she pulled it out, she let the mattress fall heavily back onto the wooden board. Pushing the mattress back into place, she quickly tucked the blankets that had come loose back under.
Staring down at the book in her hand, she was just about to open it when a loud knock erupted on the closed door. Dropping the book into the bag next to her foot, Oliveah watched as Barney pushed open the door and stood expressionless.
"I brought more bags Ms. Adler" he began as Oliveah shook her head and grabbed the two at her feet.
"No need Barney, I've got everything."
Moving to the door, she didn't offer a look back to the room as she stepped through the frame and past Barney, hearing him close the door firmly for the final time.
…
The Daily Grind Coffeehouse, 1720 Thames St, Baltimore, Maryland…
Setting her large black coffee down on the carved wooden table, Oliveah pulled out her chair and laid her peacoat over the back. The place was packed and with good reason for on her way back into the inner city, the weather had gone from a light snowfall to a near whiteout bringing everyone in off the streets whether they like it or not.
Scooting her chair in close, Oliveah reached into her peacoat and pulled out Abigail's journal. Taking in a deep breath, she flipped it open to the first page and took a small sip of coffee before wrapping her hand around the base for warmth.
October…
I'm starting this late, in fact I am not even sure if I should keep a journal. Writing down my thoughts, feelings, and events of my days may get me into trouble.
Or get others into trouble.
I remember my first morning waking up in Port Haven. It was September, and the leaves were starting to change color.
My room is painted a light blue, Robin's Egg I think they call it. There is wallpaper on certain sections of the walls and I hate it.
It looks like a room that a grandmother would live in. It even smells like it sometimes.
I don't like looking out my bedroom window. I see nothing but forest and other girls my age and older who mumble to themselves at all hours of the day and even through mealtimes.
This morning a doctor came to see me.
She brought me clothes and cd's. Going through the bag after she left, I found only two bands that are my taste. The doctor is not old, but she acts old. She had an assistant with her, a student from Johns Hopkins.
The way she looks at me, it's like she's looking into a mirror.
Nothing bad could have happened to her like it did me. She's accomplished. She's in College, she's pretty, and she's a grownup.
She's who I should be…
Flipping the book over, Oliveah rubbed at her temples before taking up the coffee mug once more. Taking a deep sip, her ears picked up the music gaining in volume over the room speakers that were positioned near the ceiling…
If I could only be the queen of popularity
Things would just come to me
So easily
What I would do
What I would do
If I could only be
Miss congeniality
No one could stand to be
Away from me
What I would do
What I could do…
Even though I am all the way in Baltimore, Canada, a peice of you still follows she thought as she couldn't help but hum along to the voice of Kathryn Dawn Lang as the song ended in an almost whisper.
"I'm so sorry Abigail."
Hearing her words, Oliveah ignored the red headed woman at the table beside her who removed an ear bud and stared at her.
"Were you talking to me?" she questioned as Oliveah ignored her.
"Rude."
Setting the intricately colored mug down at her fingers, she flipped the book back over and moved to the next entry.
October…
I went back home today with Dr. Lecter, Dr. Bloom, Mr. Graham, and Ms. Adler.
It didn't feel like home at all. I went to my bedroom, but it didn't feel like it was mine.
My friend came over for a few hours and then she was dead. I didn't kill her, but it feels like I did.
I remember her mother screaming at me from the end of the driveway. There were so many people screaming at me. Flashing lights, reporters, police…and a woman reporter who said she could help me tell my story. Dr. Bloom dragged me away before I could talk to her. I hate Doctor Bloom!
But I remember Ms. Adler and Doctor Lecter. It was weird. When she moved…he moved…
I remember looking back and I saw Doctor Lecter with his hand on her shoulder.
I have something else to tell.
My hand is shaking so much, I doubt I will be able to read this ever.
And that's fine with me.
I wish today had never happened.
Today, I killed Nicholas Boyle.
Throwing her arm out quickly, Oliveah heard the shattering of her coffee mug before she had time to register it falling over the edge of the table. Moving her eyes to the shattered pieces that laid still and the dark liquid that pooled against her neighboring occupant's white bag, she stared hard as the mug slowly turned into one that had belonged to her mother.
(Flashback) TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDE
"I can't believe it."
Carefully folding her school issued report card and tucking it between the pages of her binder, fourteen-year-old Oliveah Adler swung her bag over her shoulders and slammed her locker door shut.
Keeping her eyes down as she navigated the busy hallway just after the dismissal bell, she couldn't help but grin as she broke out into the afternoon sunlight.
"I've worked so hard this year, and it's paid off" she whispered to herself as she left the property of Westview Centennial for the housing complex off Finch.
She had come to the conclusion years ago, that to escape the life of her mother and Tom, grades were the only way out. Grades would lead to a scholarship, a scholarship would lead to a new city, a new city would lead to her own life.
Under her control and her direction.
"Four years, just four more years" she muttered to herself as she rounded the corner and spied the corner unit. Tom's pickup truck was not in the gravel driveway but that was expected at this time in the afternoon. Holding a construction job during the daylight hours allowed him an honest man's alibi even if the income went to drugs, gambling, alcohol, and the bare minimum to keep a roof over their head.
Knowing it was Wednesday, she was glad that she would have the house to herself for a few hours as this was one of the few days her mother worked part-time at the Freshco grocery store at the mall.
Pulling out her key, she was not surprised in the least to find the door unlocked. Her parents never locked the door. What was the point they would say, "There's nothing worthwhile in here anyways?"
Dropping her bag on the floor, she kicked off her runners and went into the kitchen. Pulling open the fridge, she grabbed the two-liter carton of milk and grabbed a glass from the shelf whose door had long fallen off. Filling it half way, she tossed the carton in the garbage before grabbing the loaf of bread and jar of peanut butter.
Taking a bit of her sandwich, she took a big gulp of milk and immediately whipped around and coughed it all up in the sink.
"DAMN RANCID!" she spat dumping the milk and leaving the glass on the counter. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she grabbed her sandwich and bag from the hallway before climbing the stairs to her bedroom.
Throwing her backpack onto the mattress that was her bed, she was about to turn on her clock radio when she heard a funny sound. Halting in her steps, she slowly backed out of her room and stared down the hallway, straining her ears.
"What is that sound?" she whispered, inching down the wooden floorboards as she approached her parents room.
Peeking her head inside, she found nothing amiss as she still heard the peculiar sound.
"It sounds like…"
Turning her eyes to the far door on the left, Oliveah approached it carefully as she suddenly stepped back with wet socked feet.
"What the…"
Pushing open the wooden bathroom door, the rushing sound of water whistling through the tub faucet met her ears with full force as she stepped into the tiled room.
Standing inside the bathroom, she ignored the cold water that drenched her feet as her eyes fell upon the lifeless body of her mother lying in the overflowing tub.
Staring down into her mother's face, the young girl froze as the whistling of the faucet threatened to blow like a kettle on the stove that had run out of water.
"Mom…?"
"MOM!"
Falling down onto her knees, Oliveah ignored the searing cold red bloody water as she threw her hands into the tub, rummaging for the plug. Whipping it across the room, she turned at the taps and after a minute of struggle heard no more whistle.
"MOM!"
Throwing herself to the back of the tub, Oliveah violently shook her mother's cold naked shoulders when her eyes noticed the dark slits of her wrists.
She's cut herself
"Get up…GET UP!"
Hearing the scream leaving her throat, Oliveah balled up her fist and brought it square on her mother's chest.
"YOU FUCKING DRUG ADDICT WAKE UP!"
Grabbing her mother's shoulders, Oliveah failed to sit up the slumped over two-hundred-pound dead weight of her thirty-five year old mother as the body came to rest back in the frigid bloody water.
She knew her mother was dead.
Slumping over onto the floor, she felt the cold water all around her as she felt the rage building deep inside. Her mother had left her just like Michael had left her. Alone, and without giving a shit to her survival. Turning her head to look at her mother's closed eyes, Oliveah suddenly gathered herself on her knees as she felt her hands balling into fists.
"YOU BITCH! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!" she screamed as the bloody water splashed all up her grey shirt, throat and face with each hit of her hands to her mother's body.
"I FUCKING HATE YOU!"
Feeling the exhaustion, Oliveah slumped down onto the floor beside the tub and licked her lips. She could taste the rusty saltiness of her mother's blood mixed in with cold water and as she rubbed her throat, she looked down to the bloody tiles she sat on.
She had to call the police.
Rising to her feet, she laid a hand on the doorframe for support as she rounded the corner towards the staircase for the kitchen. Grabbing the phone, she dialed 911 and listened as the operator's voice.
"911, what's your emergency?"
Breathing in deep, Oliveah swallowed her anger as she spoke.
"My mother has committed suicide in the bathroom. She's slit her wrists."
"What is your address?"
"129 Finch, Unit 2."
"Paramedics and the police are on their way dear, is there anyone else there with you?"
"No."
"Are you injured?"
Ending the call without giving an answer, Oliveah sat the phone down on the counter and made her way slowly back up the stairs. Re-entering the watery bathroom, she sat not on the closed toilet seat but back down on the tile floor.
"Just like Michael" she breathed as her ears picked up the sounds of heavy steel toe boots coming down the hallway.
"This isn't my fault" she whispered as her step-father rounded the corner of the bathroom.
"What in the fuck?"
Not meeting his eyes, Oliveah slowly wrapped her arms around her knees as Tom stood in the doorway.
He said nothing as she heard him breathing.
"Is she dead?" he finally spoke as Oliveah did not answer.
"Fuck sakes" he cursed as he tightened his grip on the black duffel bag in his right hand.
"I've called the police."
Hearing his step-daughter's words, Tom's grip on the duffel bag tightened even more as he stepped back out into the hallway.
"Fucking cops" he spat, as he turned and rushed down the hallway without a further word.
Raising her head, she stared at the empty doorway where he had stood knowing full well that the bag he held and its contents would land him in jail for ten or so years if he had stuck around. Hearing the front door slam hard, she breathed deeply and steadily as she looked at the blood on her exposed arms.
Months ago, she had given into temptation with the brain of her step-brother, and as she looked around for a hand towel or anything to cover the sight on her arms, she felt the pull once more with the blood on her arms.
Bringing her arm up to her lips, she darted her tongue out just as loud banging and a crash of glass came from downstairs. Hearing cautious boot steps approaching the bathroom, she wrapped her arms back around her knees as the first police officer appeared in the doorway.
"Jesus, are you alright?" he spoke, throwing his eyes onto the lifeless body of her mother half submerged in the tub.
I'm fine she thought as the officer applied plastic booties to his shoes before taking steps towards her. Holding out his hand, Oliveah simply stared as he came to stand in front of her.
"Come on."
Allowing herself to get pulled up onto her wet socks, she felt the officer's arm around her waist as they passed the medicine cabinet mirror. Catching her quick reflection, she saw the blood and the water, but she also saw something else…
Something else in her eyes...
Blinking in surprise, Oliveah grabbed the napkins on her table and sat them down onto the coffee spill and the glass shards before straightening back up in her chair. Glancing over at the owner of the white bag, she could see she was engrossed with typing out some sort of blog post and as she returned to Abigail's written words, she felt a strange sense of calmness.
October
I snuck out of Port Haven today.
Believe it or not, I hitchhiked into Baltimore.
I can't believe that I did that. I felt so free!
But I went to Ms. Adler's house
She talks to me like a regular person. I really like her.
We went to the mall. The mall! I felt like I was a normal teenager.
We looked at clothing, we even sat in the food court for food until…
Until someone recognized me.
…
November
Dr. Lecter brought me to his home for dinner.
He made me sausage and eggs. I told him that was the meal my father was in the middle of cooking when he received the phone call that would change my life forever.
It was funny.
Dr. Lecter seemed to smile when I told him this. He said this was the first meal I was going to be having with him.
I told him I was still having nightmares, and he gave me a mushroom tea.
I don't remember much. All I remember is a teacup shattering, his hands squeezing oranges for juice, him sitting me at the table to eat, and Dr. Bloom joining us after she yelled at him in front of me.
I wish Dr. Bloom hadn't been there. I don't like her much. I wish Oliveah had been in her place.
Dr. Lecter asked me what I saw, and I lied to him. I said I saw family. But it wasn't with Dr. Bloom.
It was with him and Oliveah.
Flipping through the rest of the notebook, Oliveah's eyes were met with blank pages before she heard a throat clear from beside her.
"Um, is this your mess?"
Glancing down at the napkin covered shattered coffee mug, Oliveah sighed as she nodded her head. Leaning down in her chair, she picked up the three pieces and sat them on the wooden table before crumpling up the soggy wet napkins.
Feeling the napkin falling apart between her fingers as she started at the smudged rusty brown of the soaked in black coffee, the young woman immediately pushed back her chair and grabbed both her bag and Abigail's journal with only one destination in mind.
…
Dr. Hannibal Lecter's Office, 687 Bayshore Ave, Baltimore Maryland…
Walking down Bayshore, Oliveah could see the elegant limestone office building off in the distance to her right as she felt the cold air bite at her cheeks. As soon as she had flipped through the entirety of Abigail's journal, she had taken out her mobile and dialed the number to Hannibal's office. Their conversation had been brief, and she had been invited to his office with an invitation to dinner afterwards.
Walking through the opening of the iron wrought fence, she lifted her eyes onto the windows above before climbing the stone steps. Making her way up the staircase, she pulled off her knit hat and was three steps short of the landing when the office door opened.
"Your cheeks are quite pink."
Hearing Lecter's voice, Oliveah allowed him to take her peacoat but not before she fished out the small five-star notebook. Standing in the middle of the room, she walked with him to the fireplace behind his desk and flexed her fingers towards the flames to bring both warmth and feeling back so that she could properly hold the book.
Feeling Hannibal's warm fingers against her cool cheek, she immediately started to feel warm with his touch.
"No one rents out the other offices in this building, do they," she spoke with a firm tone as the man beside her hummed.
Hearing her words, Hannibal cleared his throat and continued to lightly stroke her cheek with his fingers.
"Why would you make that assumption?"
"The day that you were attacked by Tobias Budge, no one came running from downstairs. When you sent me down and told me to go home, no one had come out and there was enough noise and shouting to bring anyone running," she spoke as Hannibal offered a slight smile before bringing his hand back down to his side.
"You are correct in your observation"
"So…we are the only ones in the entire building?"
"We are, and at this very moment."
Get a hold of yourself Adler. You can go one meeting with him without your mind running to sex. Oh, but sex with him is…
"I've actually come because of something I found earlier today at Port Haven," she spoke catching Hannibal's curious eye. "Dr. Bloom had asked me this morning to collect Abigail's things and clear out her room, and I found…this" Oliveah spoke holding up the notebook.
"A notebook" Hannibal identified as Oliveah nodded her head.
"More like a personal diary. She has less than ten entries, but she makes some admissions that call her into question, and puts…uh, you and I separately into situations Agent Crawford might investigate further," she spoke as Hannibal clicked his tongue against his check.
"Did Abigail admit to murder?"
"Yes."
Feeling the warm palm of Hannibal's hand against her lower back, Oliveah couldn't help but lean closer into the three piece suited man at her side.
"May I ask what you are planning to do with this book?"
She knew he was testing her trust.
Don't worry Hannibal; I have no desire to see any of these entries come to light
"Dr. Bloom said that the FBI had already gone through everything in Abigail's room yet they didn't find this which means, they have no idea this book and its admissions exist. To protect Abigail's memory and everyone else including Will, I was going to throw it into the flames."
"What is the most damning admission she wrote?" Lecter questioned, as he thought back to the day in Bloomington he had helped Abigail "die."
"She admits to killing Nick Boyle, but she also details that you may know more about why her father suddenly slit her mother's throat before lunging for her" Oliveah began as she felt Hannibal's arm against hers.
"And if Freddie Lounds ever got wind of this…"
"The breath of Ms. Fredericka Lounds is not worth anything when it comes to the truth" Hannibal interrupted as Oliveah firmly shut her mouth. Feeling the heat of the flames as they stood in front of the fireplace, Oliveah gripped the book tightly before opening up its pages.
"She mentions a sense of family, the night you had her and Dr. Bloom over for dinner in November."
Taking in Oliveah's words, Hannibal remembered back to that night and the dinner he had made for Abigail.
Your mind is quite young Abigail, though I fear, it is not one that I can mold to suit my expectations, Hannibal thought as he gave the glass teapot full of mushrooms a slow counterclockwise stir.
"The loss of Abigail has been difficult for us all" he lied, as he shoved his hands in his pants pockets.
Abigail had betrayed his trust once before. With the discovery of a journal, she had directly placed him in the line of fire and he would not let this go unpunished.
Feeling Oliveah move away from him, he watched as she began to tear the pages out from the book before bending down and tossing them into the flames.
She had admitted to not wanting to protect just Abigail, but him as well and with this gesture, he would reward her.
Watching as the last pages burned up between the flames, Hannibal held out his hand to her and brought the back of her hand up against his lips.
"I think it is time for dinner Ms. Adler."
…
Dr. Hannibal Lecter's Residence, 51 Springlake Way, Baltimore, MD…
Resting her cheek against his naked chest, Oliveah felt Hannibal's hand resting against her exposed back as she picked up the beats of his heart.
Slow and steady.
"Dr. Bloom asked me during our meeting this morning to seriously consider my "path" Oliveah spoke as Hannibal gently moved his fingers across her lower back in small circles.
"I would agree."
"I told her Baltimore has never really felt like "home"
Shifting slightly to pull the woman against him closer, Hannibal took her hand and interlaced his fingers against his chest.
"Paris is where I grew up, but Italy is where I became a man. Everywhere else I have lived has been in passing" he offered bring her hand up against his to stretch.
Ask him Oliveah
Ask him, what will happen after graduation?
"Have you visited Will Graham since Christmas Eve?" she asked instead as the man at her side breathed deeply.
"I am scheduled to see him at his request next week" he replied as Oliveah settled her cheek back down against his chest.
"Something has been on your mind Oliveah."
Hearing his words, she brought her eyes up once more onto his face and knew that the Psychiatrist in him would not let a minor emotional detail pass.
Nor the killer in him.
"Reading Abigail's notebook, I accidentally knocked over my coffee cup and it shattered on the ground. The leftover coffee triggered a memory I had of coming home from high school and finding my mother dead in the bathtub with her wrists slit" she spoke, suddenly feeling pathetic that she was admitting another family tragedy at the wrong place and the wrong time.
"Your teacup has not gathered itself back together Oliveah, and I expect that it will take some time before it does. If I could put it back together for you this very night, I would" Hannibal spoke as he brushed the bangs out of her eyes with the tips of his fingers.
"The day she died, I saw a change radiating through my eyes as I passed the cabinet mirror. I felt…" Spying the curiosity in his dark eyes, she stopped talking for she knew that he knew exactly what she had felt.
Don't you ever forget who he is Oliveah Maru Adler
"The change you have gone through will only heighten all your senses. It will draw out of you who you really are, what you feel, how you feel…" he spoke as he felt the young woman draw closer against his ribs.
"Will you tell me about your change?"
"Perhaps, one day my dear Oliveah," the Doctor spoke as he half turned to switch off the table lamp, bathing them both in darkness except for the slight sliver of moon that shown through the curtain.
I have no plans to kill you Oliveah Adler. For I have plans to draw your real self out of you and when I do, it will be glorious.
…
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Guest – Thank you so much for reading!
ElaizaElric – Long live Hannibal on Tiktok! Perhaps it will lead to a season 4
Leandraviv – Thank you for reading and remembering this story! I am re-writing some parts and adding a few things into the already written storyline. But I hope you enjoy!