The sun was hot, almost too hot and the beads of sweat building on Graham's forehead were like drops of rain on a windshield. His jumpsuit was too stiff for him to move comfortably, so he was reduced to an awkward shuffle towards the gate. The car that had been parked outside the courtyard, for more than an hour now, held two people who were seldom happy. The first was Dr. Bloom, who was a brilliant young woman who had a successful career in psychiatry and was also a very good friend of Grahan's. The second was an older man who had an impeccably eyecatching jaw, and a combed back hairstyle that gave him a solomn look. This was Dr. Lecter, an equally intelligent man who was also a psychiatrist, and former surgeon.
The two watched Graham as he crossed the courtyard till he was up against the gate. He looked at them curiously, it was almost as if he was holding something back, but he also dare not risk drawing attention to himself and so his lips remained shut. He watched as Lecter leaned over to speak to Bloom, who leaned in a bit. The two looked back at him and quietly discussed something - most likely Graham himself - before they both erupted into laughter. Bloom placed a delicate hand on Lecter's shoulder, the other on her chest as she laughed. Lecter's cruel smile was found again to be on his lips as he turned to fix Graham with a dark look.
Graham opened his mouth and let out the words that had been forming in his mind. "I know you, Lecter!" he screamed as his anger was so great that his fists shook the gates.
A slight twitch of the head was all Graham recieved from Lecter as he acknowledged his words. Bloom leaned forwards and looked out at Graham from her seat. "Will," she called out to him, moving a soft hand to the window. "You're letting your anger get the best of you, that's signs of guilt. We've talked about this in others. This killer inside of you," her voice lowered some. "This is your design."
This is my design. This is my design. This is my design.
The words repeated themselves in Graham's head, both his voice and hers, overlapping each other. Both trying to cancel the other out. The words enhanced until they were like a swarm of bees and he was the honey. He glanced at his hands. No, not honey. This was a thick, warm liquid. It was deep red. Blood. His hands were covered and clutched in his fingers was a shiv, carved from some sort of bone.
The buzzing of the words got louder and louder until Graham spun around, expecting to see them lurking over his shoulder. At his feet was not the usual grass and gravel that was in the courtyard, it was more blood. A whole path of blood that led to the dead form that lay nearly 4 yards away. It was not a person, it was a stag. A dark grey stag that had feathers instead of fur. It's antlers had been sheared off.
It dawned on Graham that the shiv wasn't quite bone, it was antler. Had he killed the stag? He couldn't remember, he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything anymore and now as the world took a spinning dive downwards, he knew that Lecter would come for him. And when he did, he'd use Graham's abilities against him.
This is my design.
The second Graham's head hit the ground, he immediately jolted upwards, covered in sweat and panting heavily. His dark room came whirling back into reality and he was sitting in bed. He wasn't in prison, he wasn't wearing a prison jumpsuit and he hadn't just killed a feathered stag. His feet dropped to the ground as he swung out of bed and he found himself staring at his dogs, all six of them, patient and attentive to his every move, his every need. That's why he preferred dogs to any other animal, because dogs were both empathic and sympathetic, if their owner was melancholy, they'd match their mood and try to comfort them.
It was an unexplained trick that dogs had, yes it was true they could smell fear, but it was also true that they could increase serenity in a person. Make them feel safe and secure, as well as loved and appreciated.
Graham stood from his bed and walked to his kitchen, he stood on the cold floor, staring out of his window as the gentle tapping of paws following him stopped and a cold nose touched his calf. He glanced down and saw Winston, nudging him gently with his black wet nose, his hot breath tickling Graham's ankle.
A small smile appeared on his lips as he watched the dog move around him and go for the bowl of dog food sitting on the ground by the entrance to the living room. Graham found that Winston was the one who needed most attention, abused dogs generally do from people they trust.
His trembling hand found his mobile and he tapped contacts, he tapped the green phone button next to the name 'Alana Bloom'. He listened to the trilling dialing tone for nearly 30 seconds before the soft answer came through sounding scratchy and animated. "Hello. WIll?"
"It's 12:37am. I'm in Wolf Trap, Virginia. My name is Will Graham. Can you confirm this?" there was amusement in his voice, but only as a guise for the fear that underlined his voice. The slight tremble when he said his name, the bitter tone in the word I'm. He was afraid, very afraid of himself.
The reply was equally as amused, and equally as afraid - perhaps not as well hidden. "It's 12:38am. I'm in Baltimore, Maryland. My name is Alana Bloom. Are you alright?"
"You know, that's not the question to ask. The question you should be asking is, why am I calling this late?"
"Will," she laughed lightly. "Don't tell me what to say, Mr. Graham. Now, why are you calling this late?"
"Why are you in Baltimore? Especially this late? Shouldn't you be at home?" he asked, instantly suspicious. Graham's nature was always to ask questions, especially when it came to Alana Bloom.
No answer came through the telephone and that slightly worried him. He could hear her taking a deep breath before replying. "I'm at Hannibal's house. I-"
He hung up the phone, sighing softly. The idea of her at the house of the man who framed him for multiple murders bothered him far more than he cared to admit.
[This is a birthday one-shot for my dear Cyber-Sister Rain. I love her so much that I forced myself to write this, it was so hard to get myself to write a Hannibal fanfic, I almost couldn't bear it.
*note my sarcasm
Happy Birthday Rain, honey! I hope it was absolutely amazing, like you. <3)
