Behind the Mask: A Hannigram Fanfiction

10- La Donne

     "Why, Miss Verger." Hannibal smiled without teeth, entirely superficial. "Good to see you. We had to slip away from the crowd for a moment. It's all so terrible, isn't it?"
     Margot nodded silently. Her gaze shifted between the two men. There was a palpable tension in the air, one that they were all aware of, but only one of them knew why it was there. It wasn't either of the men.
     "..I don't believe you've met my new trainee personally?" He gestured towards William.
     "William Graham. It's an honor, Miss Verger." William stepped forward with an outstretched hand-- neither of the Verger siblings had seemed very warm at the party. Perhaps she simply needed an introduction.
     Margot lunged.
     She gripped onto William's hand like a vise, her sharp nails digging into William's palm. Her eyes were full of hot disdain.
     "Miss--"
     "Il Mostro," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Il Mostro di Firenze." She gripped even harder, and William felt the fragile skin of his palm begin to break under her. He grunted in pain, but he couldn't pull away. She knew. God, she knew.
     "Mio caro." Hannibal stepped between them, his back to Margot, and pushed William away from her. He was at William's side in an instant, examining his palms and wiping away the tiny droplets of blood that were beginning to form. There were only one or two scrapes, but Hannibal was just as concerned as if he'd been shot in the face. As he raised William's hand to kiss it, William sucked in a sharp breath as a warning. Not here.
     "Non importa." He kissed William's scrapes. "Stai bene?"
     "Sí."
     When they finally looked back over at Margot, she had considerably softened. She watched them with curious eyes.
     "Mio...caro?" She asked, her strong voice now dissipating.
     My dear, in Italian. A word that Hannibal had thrown around in English, but never in such a serious manner. It was almost instinctual, the way he reverted to another language and blurted out the first protective thing he could think of.
     William kept his fingers laced with Hannibal's. She knew something much more damning; there was no point in hiding the truth anymore.
     "My dear," he murmured.
     "Voi due siete innamorati."
     You two are in love.
The only option was to tell the truth.
     "Sí." Hannibal's response came at the same time as William's.
     "Inglese?" Margot nodded towards William, her face blank like she had never lashed out at all. Hannibal scoffed at her. He stepped forward with his eyes narrowed.
     "I will have you speak English, just for the inconvenience of it. You speak absolute nonsense, Miss Verger," Hannibal said. "William is my friend. I know that Chilton's death has--"
     "I saw you." Her voice was low and gravelly, and she didn't have much of an accent. Judging by all the foreign trading the Verger business engaged in, she knew a lot of English. She straightened her posture. "Il Mostro. You took his life. The man in the streets. You dug his eye out."
     William's stomach plummeted. He felt the color drain from his face.
     "How can you be sure--"
     "I saw you, too." She turned to Hannibal "L'Angelo Della Morte. You took him home with you."
     Hannibal stared at her, his lips parted slightly with some unreadable emotion. "I'm sure that this was all some misunderstanding. Perhaps we should go back."
     "I cannot mistake your face."
     He grit his teeth. "If you insist. You would not come to corner us unless you wanted something. What do you want, Margot?"
    "You must listen to me, Doctor. As soon as I saw you two together, I knew exactly what I needed to do. You two would be nothing but suitable for the job."
     "The job?"
     Her eyes hardened. "I've been looking for someone to kill my brother."
     Will scoffed with disbelief, while Hannibal merely blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry?"
     "You've met my brother. You're aware of how he acts. He..he tortures me. He beats Alana. Beats me. Won't let us leave the home without him, and he controls all of the money. Alana is a disaster— she sits on the couch and weeps nightly. I cannot undergo this torture anymore." She blinked back tears.
     "I've tried to tell people, but no one believes me. Detective Crawford has even written me off. There is no other way, after years of trying everything else— my brother must die. And you two are perfect to help me with it."
     "Absolutely not," Hannibal replied at once. "Before you interrupted us, William was just telling me that suspicions on us are high. I refuse to endanger ourselves even more. And completely out of nowhere? No."
     "But I cannot kill him myself. We have never gotten along— I have all the motive. I would never put Alana through it. You two are clearly skilled at what you do." She gave them an odd look. "And you can work together. I'm assuming you come as a bonded pair."
     William couldn't stop the flush that crept up his cheeks.
     "Do you grasp who we are?"
     "Yes. L'Angelo. Il Mostro. Mio caro." Her eyes shifted back and forth between them. "I understand, don't worry."
     "You understand nothing," William found himself interjecting. "None of this."
"But I do. I do understand, Signore." This close to her, William could notice the fragment of pain hidden in all of the sharp angles of her face. She was a sad person. She was going to do something about that. "You two are in love. You find the same love in each other as a man and a woman."
     "I'm assuming you know someone like us?" Hannibal asked her.
     "No. It's..it's me. I, too, have been struck with a love I cannot share."
     The men froze. Their hands were still entwined.
     Margot shook her head, her mouth set in a thin line. "I am deeply in love with a woman like me. She sneaks into my quarters at night, and her presence is everything to me. She kisses my lips. She touches me like I am prized." Her hands trembled. "I have never been prized."
    William softened. He knew the feeling. "Oh.."
     "She is my light. My muse. I love her. I have loved her for nearly two years." She stepped forward. "She first told me she loved me about a year ago. Since then, we have been together almost every night. You must understand how it feels. There is a connection between the souls that was not there when I spoke to men. I look at her soft face, stroke her dark hair, and it feels like I am where I'm meant to be."
     "Wait—"
     "She is so close to me, yet so far. We are forbidden. We are oppressed."
     "Margot," Hannibal said sternly. "You're surely not speaking about—"
     "It's Alana." She buried her face in her hands for a moment. "It's my dear, darling Alana. My brother's wife."
     Oh. Oh, shit.
     Hannibal inhaled. His face was almost like that of a disappointed parent. "And Mason has no idea at all?"
     "He must not know. He will beat her harder than he already does." She looked dismayed at the thought. "It's why I haven't told Alana, either."
     "You're doing this without her knowledge?"
     "She would never look at me the same again, if she knew my intentions. But she wants this even more than I do, I promise you. The things she has told me in the dark..she holds incredible fury inside of her."
     "Why now?"
     "I simply cannot take it anymore. Plus, Father's will states that after the death of a Verger, the business and fortune immediately goes to the nearest family member. That would be me. This world may not allow me to run a business, not as a woman, but the money would be mine all the same. We have enough to live comfortably now."
     "Margot, we cannot do this," Hannibal said. "This is a gargantuan request."
     "Perhaps 'request' was the wrong word. This is a formal demand." She stepped forward. "Suspicions are high on you? I can make them higher. I will tell the whole truth about you two to Jack Crawford if you refuse to help me."
     William flinched. She had them.
     "Kill your brother, or you'll get us killed?"
     "This is of utmost importance to me, Doctor. If you are going to play God, then I can at least make you useful to me. Of course, you know what it's like to want to do anything for someone you love. Mio caro."
     She meant William, as made clear by the quip, but Hannibal's gaze clouded for a moment. He was lost in the past. When William ran his thumb along Hannibal's skin, he snapped back.
     "To threaten us like this, to force us, is exuberantly selfish, Margot."
     Margot smiled bitterly. "I have spent my entire life handing myself over to people who do not give a damn about me," she spat. "Sometimes a woman deserves to be selfish. And we both benefit. I get what I want, and your secret is kept. Hell, depending on how quickly you get it done, there could be some funds in it for you."
     "Funds mean nothing to me when it comes to my cover." William recognized the look on his face as the same one he'd given to Franklyn, the same one he'd caught glimpses of when Verdino shouted at him. It was pure disdain; when Hannibal gave you that look, it meant that you were revolting. A waste of space, his next victim. William had never received that look. He hoped to never receive it.
Hannibal certainly wore a mask. The question was: which side was real? The emotionless slate captured only by violence, or the soft comforting force that kissed his hand? When Hannibal held him so gently— was the mask on or off? Was all he knew of this man fake?
     "Please step away from me." Her voice was so collected.
     "Do you know how much danger you've put yourself in, Margot, dear? Cornering two serial killers, all alone? We could overpower you in an instant." He smiled. "What's stopping me?"
     "Please step away."
"You come here and threaten us, don't even give us the choice? It's rude."
     Out of the corner of his eye, William caught a small glint of something silver in her hand. Growing up in America, he was extremely familiar with exactly what this was— his heart leapt up to his throat.
     "Hannibal," he warned. "Get away from her."
     The tone of his voice made Hannibal look back at him in confusion. Reluctantly, he stepped away; it was only then that he noticed the revolver pointed straight at his torso. His smile faded immediately.
     "I also told Mason exactly where I am: with you, Doctor. I am not a fool."
     Hannibal stumbled back and absently grappled for William's arm. William pulled him close, and the two sighed in relief. William looked Margot straight in the face and saw a residual terror that probably wouldn't disappear until she was home safe. He saw desperation.
     They had no other choice. She had cornered them in every way possible.
     "Does the method matter?" William asked. Margot cocked her head.
     "I suppose not. Don't make too much of a mess. Preferably it would appear as an accident."
     "William, you're considering this?!"
     "We don't have another choice." William put a hand on his shoulder.
"I don't deserve to witness a scene like the one you two gave me the other night and then not expect a gift for my silence." Margot shrugged. "I could have turned you in minutes after. I didn't. Wouldn't it be rude of you to not repay me?"
     Hannibal paused. "Margot," he conceded, "if we do this, then you must protect our names should suspicions run high. Be our alibi."
     "I can do that. So long as you do the same for me."
     William nodded. "We can do that."
     There was a long moment of silence, none of them certain of what to do. No one wanted to make any sudden movements.
     William stuck out his hand.
     They shook hands with Margot Verger.
     "I have a gun," she reminded them before taking off into a sprint across the alley. The men were left alone.
There was a thick silence that was even more suffocating than the humidity. The men faced each other, and Hannibal opened his mouth to speak.
    William slapped him hard across the face. Hannibal's mouth dropped open, and he clutched his cheek in shock.
     "You fucking reckless bastard," William snapped at him. "Do you realize how much danger you put yourself in? She had a gun to your torso, damn it!"
     Hannibal was speechless. For once, he had no comeback.
     Thunder clapped over them, and the black sky tore open to unleash a downpour. The men were instantly soaked, and William's shoulders fell.
      "Let's go." Hannibal held his hand and led them along the alley, running together towards home.
     Once, Hannibal threw his head back, and William saw the flash of white of his teeth as he laughed.