Little Lamb (Hannibal x Reader)(Book One)

Chapter 5

On a large video screen, where a blurry image gradually sharpens, resolving into two separate pieces of fabric. "Electron microscopy reveals fiber 'signatures' that are nearly as distinct as fingerprints..." the instructor says, you sit at a long table, with other trainees. Adrelia is beside you. You're tired, but straighten, and hear "Both of these blouses were worn by victims of Buffalo Bill. They were found in two different states, and four months apart. He always slits them up the back, like a funeral suit...." On the screen, closer views of the fabric edges, until we are seeing individual threads, big as tree limbs. The cuts match. "The bunching you see - this compression - is characteristic of scissor cuts, rather than a single blade. And, as you see - Bill always uses the same pair..."

John Brigham, the gunnery instructor, sticks his head in. "Y/N! are you in here?" he asks, you stand up and walk out the door, you both briskly walk down the hall, passing other trainees. John's carrying a small canvas bag. "Get your field gear, take stuff for overnight. You're goin' with Crawford" he tells you "Where?" you ask "some fishermen in west Virginia found an unidentified girl's body. It's a Buffalo Bill - type situation. Been in the water for about a week, and Jack needs somebody that can print a floater. Think you can handle it?" you think quickly "I'll need a big fingerprint kit... and the one-to-one Polaroid, the CU-5, with film packs and batteries." you tell him.

You get in Brigham's jeep, you drive past hangars, parked planes, and airstrips. You hold a big fingerprint kit and a weekend bag. "Jack's pretty tough on you, isn't he? impatient..." Brigham asks "sometimes" you answer "He's got a lot on his mind besides Buffalo Bill... His wife, Bella, is really sick. Comatose... I'm tellin' you about it now, 'cause he may never." You absorb this information in silence, as you reach an ancient, dilapidated beech-craft. Its door is open, the twin props and beacons already turning. Brigham turns to you, holding out his small canvas bag. Brigham continues speaking "You're goin' in the field, so you gotta have a full kit. Take this - it's my own..." You open the bag, you stare at a big blue gun nestled in it's shoulder holster. You look up at him, touched. "Wear it, don't ever leave it in your purse. Dry fire whenever you get the chance. And do your exercises. he tells you "I will... I promise." you tell him "listen, I hope you never need a thing I've taught you. But you've got something... Jack sees it, I do too. If you ever need to, you can shoot." he tells you, you nod and climb out of the car. You look back at Brigham "Bless you, Y/N...." he adds. you start walking to get onto the plane.

You look out the plane window, at the landscape below. You turn from the window and focus on a folder in your lap. The cover reads "case file: / Buffalo Bill." You hesitate then open the file and scan through.

You see, police forms, some handwritten... Typed lab reports; you catch words, phrases: "autopsy protocols", "histamine analysis"... Grainy enlargements of bullet slugs, showing matched grooves... And then a stack of victim photos. The first one, taken from a good distance away, shows a nude female body, surrounded by bits of litter. You hesitate again then flip this photo to see the next. It makes you flinch, just slightly. Quickly you turn through several more photographs, trying hard to concentrate. But all you can think about is Hannibal, you want to regret what you did but you're so far from regretting, you enjoyed every moment of what you did. You want to do it again, you want to do more with him. But you can't so you decide to sleep for a bit.

Crawford makes his way towards you "he keeps them alive for three days" he says to you, Crawford takes a seat beside you "why, we don't know yet... there's no evidence of rape or physical abuse prior to death. All the mutilation you see is done post-mortem." A pause, then he glances at you "I'm hot, are you hot? Bobby it's too damn hot back here..." Crawford says to the pilot, the pilot adjusts the valve. Crawford turns back to you. "So. three days. Then he shoots them, skins them - usually just the torso - and dumps them. Each body is in a different river, in a different state, downstream from an interstate highway. The water leaves us no fingerprints, fibers, DNA fluids - no trace evidence at all. That's Fredrica Bimmel, the first one." The photo in your hand shows a pretty, plump-cheeked brunette. "A big girl, like all the rest. Weighed about 160... Her corpse was the only one he took the trouble to weigh down, so actually she was the third girl found. After her, he got lazy..." Crawford adds, you stare at the girl's face in the picture, moved. Crawford pulls a map from the file, he spreads it out. It shows the central and eastern U.S., with hand-drawn markings.

"Blue square for Belvedere, Ohio, where the Bimmel girl was abducted. Blue triangle where her body was found - down here in Missouri. Same marks for the other four girls, in different colours. This new one, today... Washed up here." Crawford marks the spot with a flair pen "Elk river, in West Virginia, about six miles below U.S. 79. Real Boonies." He adds "There's no correlation at all between where they're kidnapped and where they're found..." Crawford shakes his head at what you say "What if - What if you trace the heaviest-traffic routes back to the dump sites? do they converge at all?" you ask "Good idea, but he thought of it, too. we've run simulations, using different vectors and the best dates we can assign. You put it all in the computer, and smoke comes out. No, this one is different. Then one has seen it coming..."

The plane parks at the airport, you and Crawford both start to get off and head for the rental car.

Crawford steers, following a highway patrol car along a winding mountain road, you have the file open on your lap. Crawford glances at you. "Talk about him, Y/N. Tell me what you see." he says, you chose your words carefully "He's a white male... Serial killers tend to hunt within their own ethnic group. He's not a drifter - he's got his own house, somewhere. Not an apartment." you say "Why" he asks "What he does with them - takes privacy... Time, tools... He's in his 30s or 40s - he's got real physical strength, but combined with an older man's self control. He's cautious, precise, and never impulsive... This won't end in suicide, like they often do." you tell Crawford "Why not?" he asks "He's got a real taste for it now. And he's getting better at his work." you say, you both pause "Maybe you've got a knack for this... I guess were about to find out." he says "Like i have a 'knack' for Dr. Lecter?" you quietly say

"Okay, Y/N. Let's have it" he says

"You haven't said a word today about that garage. Or what i found there." you say

"What should i say? You did fine work. We'll wait on the lab" he tells you

"You knew. You knew from the start that Lecter held the key to this... But you weren't upfront with me. You sent me in to him naked" you angerly say

"Are you finished?" he says

"He starts this - Buzzing in me, in my head. He makes me feel... You used me, Mr. Crawford." you tell him "Number one. Maybe there's a connection, maybe not. Lying and breathing are the same thing to Lecter. Number two. If i'd have sent you in there with something to hide from him, he'd have known it, instantly. He'd never have trusted you. Number three, I didn't bring you along today just because you can do first-rate forensics. If Lecter is becoming part of this case, you've got the most current read on him. And number four - you don't have to like me, or the way i do things. But you do have to keep a cool head. Especially now... Because from here on out, you'll know everything i do. Are we straight on that?" he informs you, you nod, silently. Crawford pulls into a lot with other cop cars, then kills the engine. He turns to you, removing his sunglasses, gesturing to the case file.

"You think about him long enough, you get a feel for him... Then, if you're lucky, out of all the stuff you know, one little part of it tugs at you, trying to get your attention... You let me know when that happens, Y/N. Live right behind your eyes, today. Don't try to impose any patterns on this guy. Just stay open and let him show you..."

But Hannibal already has a hold of you, he already has your attention. But you can't tell Crawford that or you wouldn't be able to go back to see Hannibal.

"School's out, Y/N." Crawford tells you

You get in your own car and drive home, rethinking what Crawford told you. You think and realize how possible it is that Hannibal's just using you, trying to get to you, but you don't care, you have these feelings for him even though you shouldn't, and you can't stop it, no matter what you do. You can't let anyone know how you feel, not even Hannibal, this is strictly work. You shake your head and continue driving home.