Started: July 2019

Finished: August 2019

In a room upstairs, they stood. 'Remember what we discussed,' Hannibal instructed an anxious Abigail, 'don't open the door for anyone except for me. No matter what you hear, don't come downstairs.' That last part was new, and it scared her. She looked at him, her faith in him slightly wavering.

'Why, what are you thinking could happen?'

'I've taken care of everything thus far. I need you to trust me.' He wrapped his arms around her shoulders relaxed against him, sighed and returned his hug. It was only a matter of time.

It was early evening and all was quiet. All they had to do was wait for Will, then, they would leave this place, for good. That was the plan. That was all she knew. She waited.

Suddenly, she heard banging downstairs, glass shattering and crashing. Fear swept through her. It went on for what seemed like forever. She was afraid for Hannibal and herself, because her future depended on him. If the police would come, if Will choose the side of the angels, she didn't want to imagine what could happen. What was happening now? Who else was downstairs? It couldn't be Will or could it? There was an awful lot of ruckus. She wanted to see. She wanted to help and just get out of there. She listened, with her heart pounding then, everything went quiet. Minutes passed. Hannibal's taking care of it. He's taking care of everything, she told herself to calm down.

She heard someone running upstairs, getting closer to her room. She started back as they pulled on the door knob frantically then ran away. She let out a breath and wondered who that was. Was it Will? If it was Will, why was he running? Don't think about why he'd be running, she told herself. She slid down the wall, sitting, trying to calm herself. They had ran into the room next to hers. Moments later, the familiar sound of Hannibal's footsteps hurriedly passed her door, following the other person, right into the next room. All was quiet. Suddenly, sounds of things being knocked over, then more silence. For a long time, silence. Soon, she heard his footsteps pass her door again and she let out a long breath, when will this be over, she thought anxiously. She heard a tap at the door followed by his voice,

'Abigail?' She opened the door to blood soaked Hannibal. She shook at the sight of him, not knowing how much of it was his. "We have to go," She gaped at him. 'Now.' She followed close behind him as they entered the kitchen and Will tuned around, holding a gun.

"Abigail?" Will looked at her in shock, then at Hannibal. "You… you…" he hissed. "This ends now." Hannibal put his hands up and stepped closer.

"She's safe, we're here for you Will."

"Here for me? You'll be in jail...or dead," he trembled.

"I saved her for you."

"You didn't save her. You cursed her that day you called her father to let him know we were coming. Abigail come here, it's OK."

"I saved her for us." He moved closer like a snake charmer.

"There is no us. You're crazy. I said come here Abigail, you don't have to be afraid any more. I promise." Abigail looked to Lector, he nodded his head. He stalked closer still, lessening the advantage of the gun holder.

"There was a string of small moments where you could have seen me as your friend."

"Friends don't do this sick shit to each other. With as much as you know I don't mind killing bad people, you sure give me ample reason to kill you."

"Will, you should just go." begged Abigail.

"She's right. You should walk away," Hannibal agreed.

"Fuck you," he spat. In a wave of expert movements, Hannibal knocked the gun out of Will's hands, slammed him against the wall and put him in a strangle hold slowly weakening him as he spoke;

"I knew you wouldn't come around. I knew when you abandoned Abigail when you found out her role in her fathers murders. I thought you of all people would understand. Your empathy was the reason why I thought we could be friends. Everything I did after was just to see what you would do out of curiosity and punishing you accordingly for your audacity. You thought you could lie to me, to the father of lies, did you?" He smiled, genuinely amused. "Instead, I drew all of you to me, Jack who's bleeding out in the pantry, and Alana, who's upstairs, indisposed and you." He came in close as if intent on kissing the other man and drawled out barely above a whisper; 'and Abigail, who I plan to have marinate for as long as I wish." Will thrashed weakly and desperately tried to speak. Hannibal just held him there, teasing at his death watching with a sadistic smug smile.

It was nice to have your company, as much of a fantasy as it was. No one likes to be alone." Will struggled violently against Hannibal but he remained still and as strong as a stone.

"But you're not alone, Abby said, stepping forward. He looked to her, his eyes suddenly innocent and wide.

"You're still a child, Abigail. Someone to grow old with was the ideal. You'll grow up and want to leave, like children do."

"And I'm not even like you."

"Most certainly not."

"And you still want me."

"Absolutely."

"You won't be alone."

"Oh Abby, don't say that," he said barely above a whisper. "I'm not making you say that." He let Will's body slump to the floor. She quickly bent and put her hand by Will's nose and mouth and felt him breathing. She looked up at Hannibal, astonished. "We have to go," Hannibal said extending a hand to her.

[[[[

Somewhere in a hotel in Europe.

He stood in the kitchen with his hands resting on the counter top. He turned his head. 'We have to have a talk, Abigail.' His tone and words made her eyes full of concern. 'Relax, it's nothing bad, I promise.' He motioned for her to come to him and he picked her up and placed her on the counters edge. His hands held hers. 'I never wanted us to say good bye but in light of recent events I, I think we should go our separate ways. With the new identity that I gave you, and money, you'd want for nothing. She looked to him quietly for a long time, not believing his words.

'I-I don't understand. You don't want me? I thought you wanted this.'

'It's not that I don't want you. You need, to have a life, free of me.' Her eyes full of confusion.

'You'd send me away...because you couldn't have Will?'

'This has nothing to do with Will. For a long time, I thought you couldn't mean more to me then you did. In letting you go, I can show you that you mean more to me then you would if I were to keep you, caged, with my vision of your future planned out for you.' She looked at him in surprise but still appealed with;

'But you make me feel happier and safer then I did with my own family. I can't help but feel as if you're throwing me away.' He took her hands and held them to his chest.

'Perish the thought. The time you stayed with me was the loveliest I've had since I was very young. Forgive me for being so blunt, but if I wanted to throw you away, the events of that night would've gone quite differently. The chilling thought didn't phase her as she still felt bonded with him.

'But, you're all that I know.' He sighed and let go of her hands.

'And I'm to blame for that. I took your family, when I called your house. I made you completely dependent on me, when I set you up. Your struggle to get some power back, pushed you further into crisis and to me. I made you my willing prisoner, when I made it look like I saved you.' He took her hands in his again. 'Allow me to give, selflessly.' Her eyes, on the verge of believing, became cautious.

'You really want to do this? You're not just- You're giving up on us being a family. You don't just want to lull me into a false sense of security so-so I don't see it coming? I-I know what you are.'

He bent his forehead to hers.

'Think about when I told you of my little sister Misha, the tea cup that shattered long ago. It's like time reversed and the tea cup came back together in the form of you. I wanted to give you a new life with Will and I, but now, I'll do better.' he smiled lightly. She paused.

'I had thought- are you, um-' she attempted. She had thought a being as insidious as him could only exist in fairy tales. At times, she had almost felt physically sick from his stories or his 'projects' that she was privy to or even his aura alone. Sometimes, she felt that he painfully, psychologically, twisted her up into a pretzel. She played along for survival.

'I trust that your time with me wasn't all bad. At times I could see you were truly happy to be with me.'However, it wasn't hard for the playing along to become real. He was more then just polite. He was warm and affectionate,patient and understanding. Even when she said too much or said nothing at all. He handled conflict wisely and she learned from that. It was easy to succumb to the steady, wise and surprisingly playful side of the doctor. Only that the latter had no place in his professional life or entertaining his classy dinner guests, it was reserved completely for Abigail. She put a hand in front of her face as tears dropped down her cheeks as his sentiment finally became real to her. She quickly wiped them away, but more followed. Bringing her legs to his sides, he scooted her close, and wrapped his arms around held her till she relaxed. He pulled away just to look at her. His hands wiped her face and she began;

'It's true...'She wanted to say grasped his forearms and watched him speak, his thumb wiping the occasional stray tear.

'Also, I'm not just sending you away. How do you feel about some travel before hand? He smiled slightly, she faintly nodded still speechless. 'You have to decide where you want to stay.'