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Caravaggio
1598-1599

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It arrived in a small green package on the next morning. It was tied with some brown strings, but not very crafty, just simple enough. Smelled like wood, but was wrapped in recycling paper.

She carefully brought it in, unwrapping the package, revealing twelve vintage designed recipients with different inks in each one of them. A Winsor & Newton collection. They were quite expensive but distinctive. She lifted her eyebrows surprised, but also delightned to finally have one in her hands.

The gift also followed a small card, the handwritting was messy, and the content was very straightfoward:

"Happy Birthday, Ali. I know you'll make good use of these.

Your Will."

Her heart speeded again. "Stop it, Alice." She told herself. Why did he have to do that? She told him to stay away, and yet he kept coming back. She couldn't do that, couldn't keep that present that would always remind her of him.

Wrapped it all up again in the best way she could, and set her destiny to Virginia.

▫️

It was weird. Perphaps the sensation of going back to his house to meet him after that kiss, or maybe only to push him away, or some hidden wish to see him, leaded everything to summon into a crescent and awkward sensation building up inside her guts.

And the feeling ached sourly as she reached the front door, hesitating to knock as dogs ran torwards her, unable to forget her scent just as their owner.

Alice took a deep breath and faced the door. That's it, she'd open it.

"Oh, hey." Those deep eyes met hers in the middle of the cold, opening the door, like she was about to leave. "What brings you here?" Margot Verger asked curious, buttoning up her beige shirt.

Alice suspended her breath. Only a stupid would ignore the signs, the woman's lack of lipstick unlike she had when she met her, the loosen and largr borrowed shirt, the hair down, a bit messy, as if she had just woken up.

Will had slept with Margot Verger.

"...what are you doing here?" Alice asked in a whisper.

If told Will Graham to forget her, why did she feel this huge black hole inside her chest?

"Meeting a friend. And you?" Margot lifted one of her eyebrows suspicious.

"Same." She responded, unable to look into that gorgeous woman's eyes. She felt ridiculously small next to her.

"He's asleep, do you want me to wake him up?

"No, it's okay...I'll pass by another day." Alice refused fastly, Margot's eyes fell onto the package she held.

"Is that for him? You can drop by if you want-"

"No, it's mine." She sharply responded defensively. "It's mine..." She held strongly the present, maybe that would be the last thing she'd ever receive from him now, as a souvenir to remember the past times. "I need to go now...Bye."

"Okay..bye, it was good to see you." Margot waved. "Hey...uh... can I get your number?"

But Alice didn't listen, she just walked fastly towards the scooter, disappearing into the horizon, as Margot shrugged her shoulders. That was a weird girl, she thought, a cute, weird girl.

▫️

They set a challenge. Whoever painted the best canvas in the determined amount of time would win a prize. What Hannibal didn't expect, is to face his fiancé completely immersed into her art, standing on her feet with furious brushes at the canvas as 4 Seasons - Winter by Vivaldi played in the background.

Her gestures were fast, precisive and rough at the same time, as his were slow paced and gentle. The look in her eyes...it was fantastic to him. As a vulcan in eruption.

The rain poured with the cold weather outside, and he couldn't help but notice the amount of red and black she brought into the shapes. He never saw his lover paint something melancholic or haunting, that didn't mean he wouldn't be amused as always if she did.

The time was over. But she still hasn't stopped. "Lissy?" He called her, but Alice continued in her inner conflict with her art. "Time is over, darling." Her face was covered with splashed dots of ink, the fingers painted black. Hannibal had to see the art with his own eyes, and when he did, he did not disappoint himself. "Ma chérie... (My Darling)" He sighed, setting a hand above her tense shoulders.

Just when he touched her she was brought back to reality, relaxing her muscles and stopping painting. Her eyes turned to him. His expression was proud as never before, with a huge smile. "You're incredible." Hannibal complimented.

Alice turned around, facing the canvas and just then she realized what he was speaking about. She had never painted something as that before. The background was a dark, beige toned one, cracked by the time. It contrasted as a painful image of a black silhouette with long ace horns, the creature that haunted her dreams day and nights. The creature was very realistic, with tears rolling down, painted in red, resembling blood, as if it was in pain. She didn't know what it was...but in fact, was a wendigo.

For a painting that was made in just 40 minutes, it should be considered a miracle to be done so fastly.

"That is so...creepy." She widened her eyes at her own work.

"It is just different from what everything you've ever done darling." Hannibal could find beauty in that work, adored the hidden darkness of her soul represented in heavy brushes. "...ç'est magnifique (...that's wonderful)" he said, delivering a gentle kiss as a praise above her head.

Alice looked at the features, maybe she could learn to love it. In artistic patterns, it was indeed beautiful.

"What about yours?" She asked, drifting away from the shadows of her creation. "Let me see it."

"Well, I couldn't finish it as fast as you, of course." He gave a half smile, as he led her to his own canvas. "What do you think?"

Alice's jaw dropped and her heart fluttered. Completely different from her painting, Hannibal's one was filled with light colors, pastels and white. The background were fluffy clouds, and a drawn anatomy of a half painting woman, since he couldn't finish it in time. The hair was a chestnut brown, and her dress so white and pure that mixed with the clouds. It was an angelical and pure, almost mythological figure. Her face still needed to be painted, but from what she could observe on the detailed sketch in pencil, she already recognized it.

"Another one for 'My Collection', huh?" She smirked, setting her arms around his neck. "Looks like all you can draw and paint is me, Hannibal Lecter."

"What can I say? You inspire me." He said sweetly as she kissed his cheek. "So, what do you want as your prize?" He questioned.

"Me? No, yours was just as good. Maybe better."

"Mine isn't finished, and I personally prefer yours." He commented.

"No, I like yours better." She pouted adorably. "Let's call it a draw and let us both win a reward."

"And what would that be?"

"Mhm..." She glanced at the ceiling thinking, then heard the thin drops falling outside. "Oh, let's go to the rain!!" She gave little jumps excited.

"The rain?" He asked confused, Alice nodded, pulling his arm. "Lissy-"

He couldn't stop her, when he realized the water shoved down his hair, and Alice spinned around, with her arms standing widely, thanking the sky while her dress became soaked, glued to her body.

Hannibal still couldn't understand her amount of love for small things, but appreciated it. Somehow, when next to her, he seemed to learn about those values and to worship every single moment in her presence. And hell with it, if she wanted to stay outside in the rain, he'd do as she asked.

"Dance with me!" She grabbed his hands and spinned around giggling.

"There is no melody!" He shouted, unable not to smile at her enchanting sight covered by the chilly raindrops.

"We don't need it!" She chortled as they spinned in circles.

He stood there for a while, as Alice wiggled and Hannibal laughed at how goofy she could be. He played pranks on her just so she could be closer, squeezing her into his arms, both soaked by the rain with warm kisses against the coldness.

"If you catch a cold, I swear..." He threatned.

"What are you going to do, doc?" She played around, giving a quick peck on his nose, which made him scrunch it cutely.

"I'll have to initiate a very heavy treatment on you, missy." He joked with a charming smile.

"Like what?" She dared, sinking his hazel eyes into her blue ones.

"Warm blankets, hot chocolate in bed..."He spoiled her, Alice adored it.

"I like the sound of it."

"And lots of rememedy."

"Aw no." She complained furrowing her eyebrows. "Do they taste bad?"

"They taste like this..." He leaned foward at once, pulling her close, mixing their lips with each other and the cold rain, wet, warm, fitting perfectly as she smiled against him, unable to get enough.

The rain poured nonstop, her dress and his suit ruined, glued to their bodies, the shoes almost as private lakes on their feet, but it didn't matter. What mattered was the tight grip she had on his chest, the delicate hand set on her waist pulling her against him, and the breathtaking kiss in that slow motion moment.

"...Can I get sick now?" She joked between his lips and he chuckled, almost unable to keep the happiness that exploded inside his chest.

"Not on my watch, princess." He pulled apart, squeezing her rounded cheeks. "What do you say we head inside and watch some of your cringy K-Dramas on bed?"

"I'm starting to think you secretely like them."

"I'd rather die." He commented, Alice laughed. "But I can't resist to you giggling over the dramatic hand touches in slow motion."

"What can I say? I'm a romantic."

"Oh, really? I didn't notice it." He mocked Alice pushed him with her body. "So, do you accept my offer?

"Only if we can cuddle." She smiled.

"That's already intended in it."

▫️

"Next time you bring in a corpse, please warn me." The doctor took off his gloves, watching Randall Tier's dead body on his dining room's table. "I wouldn't like to bring any unpleasing surprises to my fiancé."

"I wouldn't desire that for Ali either." Will Graham, the killer this time, announced. But was he really a killer? After all, if he didn't kill Randall, he would've done it to him instead. "So this makes us even." He muttered. "I sent someone to kill you, and you sent someone to kill me. Even Steven."

"Consider it as an act of reciprocity." Hannibal spoke in a serene mannerism. His eyes lingered at the dead man. "Tell me, did you think of me when killing Randall?" He met Will's gaze, an intense, deadly one. "Did you imagine it was me your victim?"

"I never felt so alive as when I was killing you." Will Graham declared with the depths of his soul. Hannibal gave a half smile, amusing himself with that man's mind.

"Then I guess you have a debt with Randall now." He glanced at the corpse. "How will you pay him?"

▫️

Hannibal was called to a crime scene. Appearently, a body was found at a history museum, a deformation between sabre teeth and an ancient animal with a real human mixed on it. Sonething rather disgusting and just evil. And of course, Alice was unaware that her other admiror, her old friend, was behind it.

She was alone when she noticed her email. Another bill from the hospital where her father was. If she insisted on keeping him there, the bills would increase, and her economies wouldn't be enough anymore. Alice was already financially attached to Hannibal, but she wouldn't dare to ask him to pay for her father's medical bills.

After all, sometimes she'd regret putting that old man there. And she knew that sometimes, she didn't want him alive at all.

Deleted the emails, and covered her face with her hands. She needed to find a solution, not feed those feelings she tried to ignore.

Unfortunetely, her fiancé didn't share those same values.

▫️

"Congratulations." A voice spoke behind her as she walked through the flea market, searching for her new 'useless but interesting acquistion' as Hannibal used to call it. "Should I wait for an invitation to your wedding?"

The brunette turned around to face the annoying red haired woman she expected to never meet paths with again. "Freddie Lounds." Alice muttered serious, turning her sight back to the porcelain frogs offered by an old lady that smelled like cats. "I've told you all I have to say."

"We both know that's not true. You promised me a story. You gave me a half truth and a very cheap one." The woman dressed in dark clothes, but stylish as always, said. She followed Alice as the painter asked the lady the price for the product. "Porcelain frogs? Seriously?"

"I buy what I like. It is not my fault we don't share the same interests."

"It is quite odd to imagine Hannibal Lecter proudly setting a smilling porcelain frog above his fireplace." Freddie mocked. Alice curved her mouth. She was right. "Speaking of the devil, I was betting on Will Graham, but I guess the doctor has you wrapped around his finger." Alice stopped, turning around to face her, almost as if she discovered a secret. "So I guess there is something between you and Will Graham too...confusing, but it explains a lot why you can't see it."

"What are you talking about?" Alice asked, already irritated. Freddie always manages to get into her nerves.

"Will Graham was right about Hannibal Lecter." She confessed. Alice couldn't believe in what she was saying. "And I was right about Will Graham."

"Hannibal stopped me from punching your face before, this time there's nobody else to save your skin." The protective fiancé threatned. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that, and you'll leave so I can buy my frogs." Alice spoke between her teeth, turning to the old woman again.

"The frogs can wait." Freddie continued, Alice took a deep breath. "Hannibal Lecter has 4 patients who died under his care. 3 Ex patients who died after his care, and there's Will Graham." Alice paid the lady, taking a small package with her frogs in it  as she walked foward, ignoring Freddie. "All this fuss about Lecter, Will even tried to kill him." She followed into the loud flea market filled with people and colorful products. Of course Alice Mallory liked that ambience, it matched with her loud personality. "And now they're back together in therapy and another ex-patient died."

Alice stopped on her feet, not even the enthusiastic and small robotic monkey toys on display playing drums could brighten up her mood. She turned around, facing Freddie again. "You should stop with these insane accusations, Miss Lounds. Your fake news are getting out of control. I understand your concerns about Will due to his past actions, but he is trying to be a better person. And Hannibal is an innocent man."

"No, Miss Mallory, you should stop being delusional into this romance à trois and see the signs." Freddie insisted. "This situation is more dangerous than you think. Hannibal Lecter might be-"

"If you dare to accuse Hannibal of being my sister's murderer I swear, Freddie, I'll shove this porcelain frog into your mouth." She threatned, the journalist widened her eyes, frightned by the idea.

"I've heard that one of your friends, who suspected the same, died recently. Isn't the timing a bit odd to you?"

Alice took a deep breath, just as Hannibal always said she should do in alarming situations. She wouldn't loose her temper. "Are you accusing Hannibal of killing Katia now? Are you even listening to what you are saying?"

"What if Will Graham was right? What if Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper?" Freddie accused as if she was an attorney in a courtroom.

"If that is true then why would Will resume his therapy again? Your theories make no sense." Alice shaked her head.

"Maybe Will understands that he can't beat Hannibal Lecter-"

"....so he's joining him." Alice completed the sentence serious. Freedie almost smiled proud, believing to see a sparkle of hope. "I must admit, that's a great idea to profit on others, Lounds, great job."

"You still don't believe it." The journalist sighed disappointed.

"I never will. Hannibal is a good person, Will as well, even with his mistakes. Unlike you."

"You see, Miss Mallory, I am a good person, because I could just go on and write about this, but instead, I am here, warning you." Her icy eyes met Alice's blue ones. Freddie Lounds being a sensitive person? Now that was a great joke.

"So you think I'm in danger?" Alice smirked skeptically. "Do you really think that my friend is unying himself with a killer, and that killer, cue to a suspenseful pause, is my fiancé, who is the blamed one for my sister and my best friend's murder, also a cannibal?" Freddie opened her mouth to reply. "Don't. Say. A. Word." Alice demanded. "I don't want to hear any of this bullshit ever again." Alice walked torwards her scooter parked next to the sidewalk, then stopped, giving Freddie the package she bought. "Here, you need this more than me."

"What is this? Alice Mallory giving me a gift?" Freddie mocked. "You know, someday this kindness of yours might be the death of you." Alice tried not to be affected by her words, but that did made her feel a bit somber.

"I'm not being friendly, I'm being pitiful. Only a lonely person as you could waste their time trying to hurt and spread lies about others."

"I am not lonely."

"Oh yeah? Who is your company?"

"I...have a cat." The journalist said embarrassed.

"Poor thing."

"I enjoy having him around." Freddie furrowed her eyebrows.

"I'm lamenting for the cat, who is unfortunate to have you as its' owner."

"Oh." Freddie parted her lips. "Well, that was cruel, but a good one." She nodded. "Did you practice your offensive speeches in the meantime we didn't see each other?"

"I always do." Alice hopped onto her bike, putting on her helmet.

"So you do think about me." Freddie smirked. Alice rolled her eyes. "See? We are pratically best friends."

"Say that again and I'll run you over with my scooter." Alice faked a smile. "Goodbye, Miss Lounds."

"Remember what I've told you." Freddie remarked. "Wouldn't like to have a best friend murdered and freshly served with potatoes." The scooter's engine growled.

"I'd like to think of myself as a sweet dessert." She speeded, leaving Freddie Lounds far away in the horizon, but still with her ideas inside her mind, even as doubtful as they may seem.

▫️

"Hi." Alice dropped on the chair tired as soon as she arrived. "Don't look at me like that, I just had a rough day, okay?" She looked at the white hospital's bed, the air was cold and artificial just as always. "You're becoming very expensive." She commented, glancing at the floor. "Sometimes I wonder why I do this...since you didn't even bother to buy me new shoes, after you destroyed mom's ones when you invaded my flat." She sighed.

But the wrinkled, almost dead, Edgar Mallory wouldn't reply to her questions. He was being well cared, the hair was brushed to the side, smelled like an old nostalgic shampoo characteristic of old people, his sheets and clothes were always clean, along with the room and the machines that worked 24/7.

"I wonder how could she love you... Mom." Alice rest her back on the chair, staring at the ceiling. "Were you always so cruel or did grief change you?" The silence was her only answer. "I guess grief does change us....I think I did change too." She looked into her father's eyes that resembled so much hers. "Because I'm starting to doubt if I should still keep you here."

His gaze seemed confused, maybe troubled, Edgar Mallory always seemed scared, no matter what she would say.

"Is Hannibal right? Am I...torturing you?" The man didn't reply. Alice felt conflicted. "People accuse him of so many things but perphaps I'm the monster instead." She spoke frustrated. "I pray to God everyday, and yet I can't follow his advices." She spoke with every drop of blood inside her soul. "I can't forgive you."

▫️

It is hard to describe the feeling of having a best friend, who is clearly in love with you, and, your fiancé, at the same time, together at dinner. Hannibal, in Alice's eyes, could be a delightful, but also a strange person.

He assured her that this was a way for them to move on to the next page, to become unattached to previous feelings and all of them to be friends again. It was optmistic, almost cute, but she couldn't help but feel uneasy. Specially when Will kept glancing at her at each 2 minutes.

"Brined and roasted... whole suckling pig." Hannibal announced, as he served delicately a portion of meat into Will's dish. A pig he received from the ilustreous and maniac Mason Verger. "A gift from a friend."

"A friend of yours, not a friend of the pig's." Will commented. Alice smiled, containing her laugh. He felt joy when she found his comments funny. She looked rather marvelous that night, in a blouse that exposed her shoulders and dark pants that worshipped her curves. It was hard not stare.

"There are those who raise livestock and have a genuine affection for them." Hannibal commented, now serving himself. "The farmer who hand rears lambs loves them and sends them to slaughter."

"They love and kill what they love." Will followed his thought.

"And eat what they love." Hannibal concluded. "It's a paradox." Alice saw that speech with great sadness. She couldn't help but feel disgusted and terribly sad to see an animal murdered that way. She, of course, respected Hannibal's love for meat (well, the average one she knew), but sometimes it was hard for her to agree in those occasions. Specially when he had a food cart, containing the perfect shape, full body and face of a big pig with an apple on its' mouth there, next to them.

She looked at the salad on her dish, trying to avoid the smell of death in the air that pleased the two men. "Freddie Lounds thinks the two of you are a paradox." She suddenly said when Hannibal sat down. The subject burned on her mind, she couldn't keep it in. "She believes to see something no one else sees."

"Did you meet with Freddie Lounds?" Hannibal showed clear disapproval in his tone.

"I bumped into her at the flea market." She justified herself. "It never occured to me that she'd meet me to build up such allegations about you both."

"And what did she say?" Will questioned.

"That neither of you is the killer she's writing about, but together, you might be." Alice let it out. Both Hannibal and Will became silent, only their silverware made noise.

"Freddie Lounds is not a trustable source. I hope you are not considering her opinions." Hannibal looked at his fiancé, calmly setiting his hand above hers at the table. Will avoided to look at it.

"No, of course not." Alice shaked her head. "That woman just wants to write a story and gain money with it, I trust nothing in her words." Alice said, comforting her partner. "She has no boundaries."

"Someone with no boundaries is a psychopath." Will Graham established. "Or a journalist." He joked again. Alice contained her smile again, he was trying really hard to make her laugh. Perphaps he could sense how tense she was.

"But she did make me think about something." Alice became serious. "About your relationship." She turned to the two of them.

"What about it?" Hannibal asked.

"Patient and therapist, friend and enemy." She looked down. "It's just hard to keep up with the two of you."

Hannibal and Will exchanged conspiratory furtive glances. "We are taking one step at the time." Lecter said calmly. "All three of us." He included Alice. "Isn't it?" She glanced at Will across the table, the scenes of that waiting room flashing fastly through their minds. "It's been a while since we gathered around like this, when was it? The last time we dined together?"

"Back when you forced us to tell the truth about what happened in college." Will said grumpy.

"Right." Hannibal nodded. "Good times." He gave a small smile. "Alice, darling, is your food by your pleasing?" He asked. "You look a bit...distracted."

"Um, yes-"

"It's the pig." Will said before she could lie again. "It's disgusting her."

Alice blushed. Hw exposed her, how would she justif vit now? Hannibal seemed a bit schocked with the statement. "Is it true?"

"Um...it's not so disgusting, it's..."

"Making her sad." Will completed, almost guessing her thoughts. "Alice is sensitive about death." He looked at the doctor. "But I think you should know that by now."

Hannibal clenched his jaw, knowing what he meant with that sentence. He got up from the chair and quickly took the food cart away from Alice's sight. Returning later, planting a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry, my dear." He whispered.

"It's alright." She replied back, realizing how considerate he was.

That still didn't ease that annoying sensation Hannibal felt about not guessing what she felt, about Will understanding her better than him at that moment.

Will Graham rolled his eyes. "By the way...did you receive my present?" The agent suddenly spoke. Alice paralyzed.

"A present?" Hannibal asked before landing a piece of meat inside his mouth.

"I sent her a gift for her birthday. Did you receive it?" Will insisted.

Alice almost buried herself into the ground as she felt both their gazes stuck on her."...yes. I did." She nodded shy. "I... really liked it. Thank you." Will gave a weak smile and nodded.

"What present is it?" Hannibal asked curious, luckily he didn't seem angry.

"An ink collection. It's from a branch Alice likes." Will responded.

"That is a very thoughtful present." Hannibal complimented. "Is it the same ink you used on your painting today, darling?

"Shit." Alice thought."...Yes." she replied.

"She made this wonderful painting...I've never seen something like that before." Hannibal said as one of those proud soccer moms.

"Really?" Will asked, he glanced at his old friend."Can I see it?"

"No-"

"Of course." Hannibal got up from his chair and promptly went upstairs to take the painting.

In the small amount of time he was away, Alice tried her best not to look at Will over the table. Even though it was almost an impossible task in that half lightned, silent and expensive dining room.

"Pretty bracelet." He commented, looking at the glistening jewels on her wrist.

"Thank you." She simply said, touching the accessory delicately. "Hannibal's gift." He nodded bitterly. Suddenly, something in Alice's sour jealousy spoke louder. "Pretty girl." She let it out.

"What?" Will asked confused.

'"The one leaving your house yesterday." She silenced herself and drank a bit of the dark wine.

It took Will a solid second to understand what she meant. When he did, he widened his eyes. "Did you see... Margot?" Alice didn't reply. "Wait...did you go to my house to see me?" His eyes helplessly met hers, as he leaned forward, about to take her hand in his.

"It is impressive, in just 40 minutes!" Hannibal exclaimed joyfully arriving with the canvas. The agent came to back to his initial position, the two tried to recompose themselves. "Behold." He showed the art.

Will was still a bit distracted, but when he landed his eyes at the art, it took his breath away. He knew how much Alice was talented, but that? That was one of her best works so far. It was morbid, creepy, dark, and somehow, that was the same creature that haunted his dreams, even wide awake.

"It is really impressive." Will commented, glancing at his friend. "Great job as always, Ali."

"Thank you." She replied, in an almost unoticeable tone.

"So, who wants dessert?" Hannibal announced, setting the painting aside and hushing torwards the kitchen.

But, as outstanding as it seemed, Will knew there was something else about that portrait, something that burned inside his friend's mind. "Ali." She looked at him. "Are you really doing okay?"

The question almost made her cry. Was she okay? When she was with Hannibal all the pain drifted away, as a drug. But when she was alone, her thoughts would come back again, all the loss, all the grief and the current conflicts inside her mind... No, she was not okay, not at all.

"Yes." She nodded. "I've never been better"

▫️

"I expected to find you here." His velvety tone appeared behind, but it didn't frighten her. It was a small comfort in her sadness. "My apologies, I read your e-mails. They just popped up on the screen." He declared.

"So you do know my dilemma." Alice said, without taking her eyes from the almost dead man, her hands at the edge of the bospital bed.

Hannibal stepped foward, his expensive  shoes made noise on the white polished floor as he approached her, side by side facing Alice's genitor and enemy. As much as she hated to admit, Hannibal could notice their physical resemblences, the eyes, the hair, even the expressions. It was scaringly accurate, and almost sad to witness.

"Your dilemma goes beyond medical bills, we both know that."

"Sometimes I can feel it." She hissed. "The hatred in his eyes whenever he looks at me."

Hannibal glanced at the man supposed to be his father-in-law, Edgar was always scared in his presence. As he should.

"Funny, I can see the same whenever you look at him."

"I can't deny it, can I?" She spoke frustrated. "I hate him, and I can't change that."

"Only if you let go of your past." Hannibal suggested.

"I don't know how to do that."

The doctor calmly touched her hand, holding it and walking towards the beginning of the bed, where her father's head lied above. The man's eyes followed them, nervous, quiet.

"There is one way." He led her hand above the oxygen mask her father wore. The trasnparent plastic blurred whenever he breathed. "To conclude what was interrupted in the past." He whispered in her ear, slowly letting her hand grab the mask on her own.

"You mean..." Her voice trembled.

"Can you consider his current situation as a proper life of his own?"

"But...but what if-"

"You said it yourself that if he died, nobody would miss him. That his identity is well secured." Hannibal tempted her even further. "The sufferment would be over, and no one would take the blame for it."

Alice's eyes shivered, her breath hitched, she looked at Hannibal, asking for help, for advice, while he drove her even further torwards the edge.

"But he is my father, Hannibal-" She stuttered helpless.

"Father, families...humankind often intend to rely on bloodlines to experiment a sense of belonging, when in fact, real bonds are build with trust, loyalty." He explained, positioning his hand softly above hers and the mask. "People often seek their bloodline when they are alone." His hazel met her blue, a crescent feeling of anxiety and passion bloossomed. "You're not alone anymore, Alice." They both looked at the man, who seemed to know his destiny by how wide his eyes were at them. "Was Edgar Mallory your family by a true bond or by blood?" He set her mind on fire. "It is up to you now, darling. Whatever is your choice, I'll support you in it."

He let her hand go, as Alice stood there, looking into the eyes of the man supposed to be the one she admired, that she should be grateful to, but all she could see was the father who threatned her family, who tried to use them, to hurt them, who caused so much pain that cost her an opportunity for a different future.

Her breath was only brief exchanges of air, the hands trembled along with her fragile legs. Her blood...it boiled. And that tiny part, that incessant clock that ticked in the depths of her mind, brought that side she hid from everyone.

"He only caused us pain." Bree's ghost reappeared after all this time, just at the other side of the bed. "You want to, don't you?" Hannibal noticed Alice's blank stare at the wall, but didn't say anything, he kind of guessed what it was already. "After all, nobody would know. Not me, not Katia, neither Colin or Will." Bree whispered in a chilly breath. "You wouldn't need to follow this kind nature you were always stuck to. You'd be freed." Her sister's once soft and kind expresions were now machiavelian, bloody and evil. They resembled Alice's consciouness in their worst form. "Free us, Alice." She asked. "You did that once in the past, now you can end this." She motivated her sister, almost as if she made Alice's hand grip tighter onto the oxygen mask. "Free him."

Hannibal couldn't hear Alice's sister, but he could watch that beautiful, mesmerizing scene of his lover. She looked down at her father, letting a tear roll fall from her precious eye, as her trembling hands delicately lowered down the mask, taking it off and revealing further and further the man's face, exposing it to the fresh air after 10 long years.

His chest moved up and down fastly, and, when the machines were about to alert the nurses, Hannibal quickly silenced them to don't make any noise to interrupt that majestic moment.

Edgar Mallory's eyes stopped at his daughter, who didn't shed any more tears, only stared at him serious, silenced, as he agonized to breathe. "A-Ali....i....ce..." His hoarse voice came out after such a long time, but she could still remember it. She remembered the fights filled with that thick brittish accent and the offensive words he threw at her. She could remember him, demanding his dinner as he arrived drunk, fighting with Bree when the poor thing was as innocent as a saint. She could remember him, grabbing Colin by his the collar of his shirt, threatning through his old yellow teeth. "...I did...I...did ..." Edgar now mumbled, the voice hitched, raspy, so low that she had to lean closer to listen. Hannibal stood still, watching him die slowly, as in a movie. Edgar Mallory looked closely into those alike pair of eyes as his, she made that girl live through hell, and now she took away his life. Karma indeed never failed. "I did..." he repeated again, as his left hand, still with a needle, fragily moved, trying to reach for his daughter's. "I...I loved her..." Alice kept quiet, unable to say anything, paralyzed. "I...I am....so..sorry...." He touched her skin, and, at that sudden sensation, she did what her old self would never do. She stepped back. Unable to show kindness or mercy for that man, to her own father. His vision was broken, sad, miserable. And for once, Edgar Mallory showed his true colors: a pathetic man who lost himself after his wife's death. "Please....fo...for...give...me...."

Alice stepped back once again, seeking shelf from the pain that grew inside her chest, mixed with a great satisfaction that lied underneath. Her back touched Hannibal's warm chest, as his arms embraced her softly, as a blanket. "No." She whispered to Edgar, letting Hannibal's touch drift her away from the scene, but unable to keep her eyes from it, watching the little sparkle of hope and life escape her father. Egar's hand fell onto the matress again, slowly, along with his faded breath and the mouth that opened in a brief gap. The blue eyes stopped at hers, horribly, icy, and permanently.

Edgar Mallory was now dead.

Hannibal's hands rubbed softly her arms as she stood there for a minute, watching  the man she despised for so many years finally lifeless in front of her.

"How do you feel?" His voice whispered softly. She took a torturous deep breath.

"Free."