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Pablo Picasso
1937
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THE smell of chicken invaded his lungs, and the lovely image of Alice entering his room immediatly made him smile. She held in her hands a small packed lunch and walked fastly in her blue overall and striped long sleeved shirt.

"Good morning!" She said brightly.

"Good morning." He smiled shy, as she adjusted the pillows behind him.

"How are you doing?" Alice asked, as she sat next to him on the bed.

"I'm not sure." He replied. "But better now that you are here."

"Okay, that was smooth." She chuckled.

"What is this smell?"

"Silkie chicken in a broth." Hannibal suddenly entered the room with a pleased expression, elegantly dressed in a long dark coat, taking off his gloves. "A black-boned bird prized in China for its medicinal values since the 7th century." He opened the packed food as the smell floated in the air, surrounding the room. "Wolfberries, ginseng, ginger,
red dates and star anise." He described.

"Summing up, he made you chicken soup." Alice replied well humored.

The three of them sat at a table at the corner of the room, Alice didn't eat the meal full of meat of course, but had eaten before arriving there, so she wasn't hungry. She observed Will, way better than the lastvtime she saw him, attentive to eacg spit of his beautiful face and soft brown curls of his hair falling above his shining eyes.

"The nurses tell me you've been wandering, Will." Hannibal commented as he observed the agent eating.

"Ouch." He almost burned his tongue.

"Are you okay?" Alice asked promptly, touching his arm. Hannibal only watched curious.

"Yeah, the food's just hot." He tried not to worry her, giving a kind smile.

She grabbed the spoon from him and blew up as it is done with babies, leading it to his mouth afterwards.

"Alice, please." He chuckled complaining about her attitude.

Hannibal couldn't believe in his eyes. Inside, he was throwing a fit like a brat. She did that to him when he was hurt, and in his eyes, it was supposed to be something exclusive to him. He felt something pointy in his chest, something sour down his throat and suddenly lost his apetite.

"Come on, don't act like I didn't do this whenever you were sick during college." She told him, wich only made Hannibal feel worse.

It was worse than he had imagined. Not even the meat could make him feel better now. And he adored meat.

Will rolled his eyes but opened his mouth with a sweet smile as she helped him. Alice was about to repeat the action when she looked at Hannibal's face. He was frozen, serious, staring at them. He didn't show his jealousy, but somehow she could feel it, maybe in his subtle glance, or by how he tapped his finger gently on the table, trying to avoid speaking about it.

They didn't have any solid relationship, actually, she didn't even know what she felt towards him. But displeasing him with that just didn't feel right. She immediatly stopped.

"Alice?" Will waited.

"Um...I think it's not so hot now." She gave him back the spoon, pursing her lips."Try it."

Will Graham looked at the doctor and then at Alice's sudden discomfort, he didn't say anything, but that kind of killed the mood.

"Anyway..." Will cleared his throat. "I was awake, wandering with purpose...and good intentions."

"Visitting that unfortunate young woman." Hannibal completed.

"Young woman?" Alice questioned.

"She's my support group." Will joked.

"And I hope you're hers." Hannibal commented, and continued to eat. "There's nothing more isolating than a mental illness."

The words affected the agent, he sighed, relying his back at the chair, as he tried to make up a sentence. " The hallucinations, the... loss of time, sleepwalking." He continued. "Could that have all just been the fever?"

Both Will and Alice looked at Hannibal, searching for any signs of hope.

"Fevers can be...symptoms of dementia." He spoke serious. "Dementia can be a symptom of many things happening in your body or mind that can no longer be ignored, Will."

The agent looked down, the expression a bit sad, but almost accepting it. Alice held his hand and he intertwined his fingers with hers, trying to absorb some of her strentgh.

"Does Jack know?" He asked.

"That this could be more than a fever?" Hannibal said "No. I haven't told him."

"Shouldn't you?" Alice questioned.

"Not until we know for certain." He replied. "What we must do now is continue to support and monitor your recovery, Will." He affirmed, and the agent nodded slowly.

"This young woman you were visiting, how's her recovery?" Alice questioned, trying to change the subject.

"I don't think she wants to recover." He said with a hidden frustration. "Afraid to remember what she did."

"Can't say I blame her" Hannibal spoke calmly, unbothered about the matter he caused.

▫️

"What about your Buzz Lightyear toy?" Alice packed up the boxes, attemtpting not to cry for the third time. "Don't tell me you're also taking it."

Colin quickly grabbed the astronaut out of her hands and hugged it. "Of course I am! Haven't you seen Toy Story?! Your monster!" He shouted and put it on the huge pile of 'keeping' formed on the ground.

Alice shaked her head and laughed. But her smile vanished fastly as she took a look overall the room. The once messed up cubicle she asked him to clean was now empty, able to see the old light blue paint on the walls where band posters standed. The wardrobe was just wood and void. Even the floor, which used to be covered by clothes was now free to walk on.

All the essence and personality that was built in years was taken away within mere hours.

Colin was leaving, and just when she watched that room becomr an empty, echoeing shell, she realized how time passed so fast. The marks she made with crayons to watch his height were still on the walls, along with the fluorescent stars she glued on the ceiling and couldn't remove that stared back at her.

In the end, she realized how parents felt when their kids left. She would give her all, and soon, they would go. And she could do nothing about it.

She tried to put some of his soccer trophies back into a box when a small ladybug landed on her hand. She analyzed the dots in her red shield, anything now seemed to be a bettter distraction than watching him leave.

"What's that?" Colin couldn't see properly, just knew that his siter had something on her hands.

"A ladybug." She told him.

"What?? Kill it! Now!" He suddenly got up yelling, fastly taking the bug away and throwing it around. He tried to step on it but Alice stopped him.

"What is wrong with you?!" She yelled "it's just a bug!"

"It's not just a bug, it's the bug." He looked intensely at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you remember?" Colin sat down next to her again, as the bug disappeared from their sight. "Bree. She used to be terrfied of them."

Alice stopped for a moment, her mind traveled to a distant past. Bree used to call her a bee, because she loved flowers. But ladybugs...no, she didn't like them. She had a childhood trauma related to it. Yes, how could she forget it?

It happened back then when they were just kids, starving because their father spent all their money in bets and alcohol, leading Bree to try, once, to eat a ladybug that crawled on the ground of their poor dead flowery garden.

She was disgusted, said that the taste wasn't just bitter but sour, that she felt the insect move inside her mouth, still alive. Bree had nightmares for multiple weeks nonstop, father did nothing about it, there was just Alice there for her. Even after all those years, after Colin arrived, Bree never forgot about it and told him the story. Somehow, Alice had blocked away that memory until now.

"She did..."Alice muttered amused.

Her mind suddenly shifted to a different conversation. "My little ladybug" that's what Bree called her the day of her death.

Alice almost dropped the trophie she held, luckily, Colin grabbed it just in time.

"My little ladybug." she repeated the sentence out loud. "She was scared." Alice realized, widening her eyes, her body shivered. "The voice behind her. It was real." She glanced at Colin. "Bree was scared, she tried to warn me."

"What are you saying?" He asked confused.

"It wasn't a post traumatic way to deal with ot..." she shaked her head, rejecting Hannibal's previous statements. "It was someone. Someone real." The breath escaped her lungs, relieved, but also worried "I wasn't crazy after all..."

Colin put a hand above her shoulder, not understanding exactly what happened, but trying to comfort her.

"I need to tell Hannibal about this." She looked for her phone. "And Will...but he's at the hospital because that girl died..."

"Who?"

Alice reminded herself that her brother was still there. Tried to become conscious and explain to him "A woman he was helping. Seems like the machine broke or something, it burned her completely." Alice explained, Colin widened his eyes.

"Wow, that's so creepy."

"I know." She shaked her head. "Poor thing." She finally took her phone on her hands, wich trembled because of the discovery. "I shouldn't trouble Will now...But I must call Hannibal and tell him."

"What is going on between you and this doctor anyway?"

Alice gazed at her brother, what could she say? Not even she knew. Alice wanted Hannibal around, maybe even needed him around. She liked every single part of him, from the calm mannerisms full of charm, to the passive agressive and sassy speeches. The ways he cared and supported her, understood her like nobody else did, or how he showed her a new world by his own eyes, or maybe just by his touch... sometimes just thinking about him made her stop breathing.

They knew they weren't friends. And after that kiss...but he didn't remember it. And didn't try to kiss her again either. Neither did she attempt to.

That didn't mean she didn't want to.

"I like him." She confessed to him and also to herself "A lot." She spoke embarrassed, feeling her cheeks heat up.

"You-"

"...I don't know, I might be...." She breathed with difficulty to understand the sensation insidd her chest. "But he probably doesn't feel the same."

Colin looked down, her sister really fell for that guy, and he couldn't do anything about it. He only asked "What about Will?"

God, how could she say something about Will? He was that old burning sparkle that lightned up inside of her. No matter how many years passed she would never forget him, and probably, never forget how she felt back then. But could she feel the same way now?

"Why don't you pack up your stuff?" She cleared her throat, cutting off the conversation.

"Alice!"

"Now."

"Fiiine." He rolled his eyes.

Alice focused on the present, dialed the numbers that came first in her head. Tried to call Hannibal but he didn't pick up at first. That was slightly odd. She tried a second time.

"Hey, I need to tell you som-"

"I'm sorry, Hannibal is busy now." A smooth woman's voice spoke through the phone. Alice suddenly stopped, her jaw dropped. "Would you like to leave a message?"

"Who is this?" She asked, trying to still be polite, even though she felt her heart ache with anxiety.

"Dr.Bedelia Du Maurier." The woman spoke clearly.

A doctor? How long did he know her? Did they work together? Why did she have his phone?

Everything had a reasonable answer, that's what Alice told herself.

"Can you please give the phone to Hannibal? I need to talk to him."

There was a pause before the woman could answer. "I'll tell him you called. Goodbye Miss Mallory."

"Wait-"

The line was cut. Alice tried to call again but nothing. Her breath became sharp, and she could feel like someone's hand squeezed her heart while watching it bleed.

Who is Bedelia? And why did Hannibal never mention her? Why did she have his phone?

Was he with her now?

"Alice, are you alright?" Colin asked, as he watched his sister blankly stare at the wall.

"Oh, no, she definetely isn't." Bree's ghost commented, almost laughing at the tragic situation.

▫️

"Miss Mallory, these meetings should be private." Freddie Lounds complained.

"I'm just here to keep Abigail some company." Alice affirmed fearless of the redheaded. "It must be hard to live through all these emotions again."

Abigail nodded, accepting her gestures, and convinced Freddie Lounds to let her stay. They were at that same hospital abigail stayed. It was calm, filled with vegetation and quiet parallel conversations illuminated by the bright and huge windows.

The reporter displayed on a desk many pictures of Garret Jacob Hobbs' victims. All of them were similar to Abigail in some way.

The thought of someone killing and eating people made Alice almost want to vomit. She almost couldn't believe it. And if Will's accusations were right, whoever the copycat was, did the same to her sister. She felt even more frustrated and angry now.

"We could use the articles I wrote at the time of each of the murders as book chapter headings." Freddie explained. "The chapters themselves would be you telling your story, where you were and what you were thinking, when one by one, eight girls, just like you, all over Minnesota were disappearing."

Alive had to admit, Freddie was quite a genius in that aspect. That was a great material right there.

"What are we gonna call it?" Abigail asked, avoiding to look at the portraits.

"Well, I thought about 'The Last Victim', but there is already a book about serial killers called 'The Last Victim'." She retorted.

"Was it a bestseller?" Alice questioned.

"Absolutely." Freddie replied confident. "Especially after the guy who wrote it killed himself."

"Just as well." Abigail affirmed coldly. "I wasn't really my dad's last victim anyway, was I?"

Alice furrowed her eyebrows. Finding it weird. "Who was?"

"Marissa."

"Marissa Schurr was killed by the copycat." Freddie retorted. "So was Cassie Boyle."

"And Bree." Alice whispered. Freddie noticed the sadness in her tone, almost feeling empathy for her.

"I still blame my dad." Abigail strangely insisted.

"Blame him for Nick Boyle's death?" Freddie questioned.

"I blame Nick Boyle for Nick Boyle's death." She spoke in such a cold tone that Alice almost didn't recognize her. "He killed Marissa. He got what was coming to him."

"We don't know if it was him." Alice said, at that moment, after her memory recovery at Colin's room, and remembering Will disbelief in Boyle being a murderer, she questioned that theory.

"Then who did?"

"Better question is: who killed Nick?" Freddie Lounds asked, noticing the odds aspects of that conversation. "He was just a dumb kid who was really messed up because his sister was killed. He wasn't a killer."

Alice turned to Freddie. "How are you so sure?" She didn't doubt her, but was curious about it.

"I've interviewed enough killers to know one when I see one."

"What gives them away?" Abigail questioned.

Freddie intensely gazed at the girl's wild eyes. "A very specific brand of hostility." She turned slightly to Alice "I see it every time I look at Will Graham."

"That's stupidity. Will's not a killer." Alice retorted grumpy, rolling her eyes at the red haired.

"He did kill my dad." Abigail affirmed. Alice wanted to complain, schocked by the way she spoke of her friend.

"As far as I'm concerned, he killed Nick Boyle." Freddie commented. "He and Jack Crawford told everyone Nick was the copycat and then someone murdered him for it."

"Will would never do that." Alice defended him.

"You can never be 100% sure about someone's morals, Miss Mallory." Freddie tilted her head, her red curls shaked as she did the gesture. "One thing we can be certain: whoever killed Nicholas Boyle killed an innocent man."

▫️

Will Graham abruptely opened one of the FBI's drawers, he had reached the conclusion they seeked for, everything started to make sense as the puzzle pieces fit together. The body of Dr.Sutcliffe exposed with his decapited open jaw, stared back at them, as Will explained desperate.

"Whoever killed Dr.Sutcliffe wanted to kill him how Georgia Madchen killed her victim, but not exactly how, correct?" He asked Jack Crawford and his colleagues.

"Georgia Madchen carved up her victim's face." Zeller explained. "Sutcliffe was nearly decapitated at the jaw. I mean..."

"So she went further the second time, serial killers often do that. "Jack suggested.

"She was copied." Will corrected "Like uh...whoever killed Marissa Schurr, Cassie Boyle, Bree Mallory, who wanted to copy the way Garret Jacob Hobbs killed his victims...but not exactly how."

"Wait." Jack lifted his hands in the air, trying to process the information. "Are you saying that Dr.Sutcliffe was killed by Garret Jacob Hobbs' copycat?"

Will hesited but nodded. "So was Georgia Madchen." He concluded. "Because he thinks she saw his face...just like Bree Mallory must've saw him the night she died."

"You said that Nicholas Boyle was the copycat." Jack complained crossing his arms around his stuffed chest. "His blood was on one of the victims. Nicholas Boyle is dead."

"Well, then he isn't the copycat." Will whispered.

▫️

"Could this be just a fever?" Jack asked the helpful doctor. " Will is connecting murderers that previously had no connections." He continued worried. "Sometimes I wonder if there is really a connection between the Mallory case and Hobbs, or if it isn't just an obssession of his."

"So you're wondering if the lines are blurring or if he's onto something." Hannibal organized his pens on his desk in a narrowed pattern.

"I'm wondering all sort of things." Jack's eyes followed the doctors hands as he made a row of black to expensive golden pens. "What's Will relationship with Abigail Hobbs right now?"

Hannibal adjusted himself on his seat and cleared his throat. "He thinks he's protecting her."

"He has been ever since he shot her father. I just don't know why."

"I can't imagine he would hide anything criminal from you." Hannibal declared neutrally. "I only know Will as a man who's trying to be his best self."

"You haven't known him that long." Jack thought out loud. "But Alice Mallory has."

"Are you going to talk to her about this?"

"I'm not sure. She might become protective about him."

"He needs our support, weather or not there is mental illness."

"Mental Ilness..." Jack doubted everything, shaking his head. "Is it really mental ilness, doctor, or is it just that his mind works so differently then most people that he we don't know what else to call it?"

Hannibal made a pause. Deciding weather or not to set Jack's mind on fire.

"There are days when Will doesn't understand his own thinking..."

▫️

"You are quiet today" He commented as he delicately poured the wine into a cystalline glass, staring at her in an attempt to read her mind. "Did something happen?'

"Nothing." Alice replied coldly, not even looking at him. She ignored the wine.

Her posture was hostile, also passive agressive. Something was definetely wrong, and something suggested that it was related to him. When he tried to sit next to her on the sofa, she distanced herself from him.

Well that scared the hell out of him.

He tried to reach for her hand, this time she didn't move away. "Alice, is something wrong?" She looked at him, her gaze wasn't cold anymore, maybe just upset. "You know you can tell me everything."

She took a deep breath, and tried to analyze the situation. "There are no secrets between us, right?" She asked delicately.

Hannibal didn't like the path that conversation was leading to, but whatever she might have discovered, he needed to find a way to fix it. "Of course not."

"Then, would you be honest with me if I asked you a question?"

He feared what that question would be, but still remained calm in her eyes. "Go ahead."

"What is our relationship?"

A pause in silence. He wasn't expecting that. But it was still better than food habits questionaments.

"What do you mean?" He asked feeling a bit anxious.

"I just...need to understand this..." she hesited, staring at the woodden floor beneath her feet."I need to understand it before I feel something I shouldn't."

"And what shouldn't you be feeling now, darling?"

"Don't call me that." She called him out, feeling her heart flutter whenever he said that. "It...confuses me."

Hannibal squeezed her hand above her thigh. "What confuses you?"

She glanced at him, into his fragile hazel eyes, why did he do that? Mess with her feelings that way? It was like a soft, perfect and sweet torture. "Who is Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier?"

The room gained an awkward quietness.

"Did you talk to her?" He asked.

"She picked up the phone when I called you yesterday." Alice explained. "Who is she, Hannibal?"

Gladly, Alice wasn't the crazy jealous type, she knew that they weren't officially dating, and that it would be stupid of her part to be discontrolled or hysteric by something like that. But she couldn't deny that she felt something towards him, specially after that kiss, something happened between them, and the idea that he could be with another person...that made her want to die.

He took a sip of his wine, preparing a good answer, as he could feel her blue eyes burning his skin as she waited.

"She is my therapist." He was honest. "And colleague."

"Your therapist?" Alice felt an instant relief. He noticed that, hiding a smile noticing her clear jealousy.

"Each one of us have their own demons." He answered, the phrase made her meditate and realize how little did she know about his struggles, maybe he had difficulty in sharing them.

"So you were...in a therapy session?"

"Yes, I must've gone to the restroom and she picked up the phone. Why? Was she rude?"

That wasn't exactly what happened.

Both Hannibal and Bedelia, sitting on their usual patient and therapist chairs watched as the phone started to ring, the ID on the screen revealed who it was.

"Are you not going to pick it up?" She asked.

Hannibal thought about the offer for a moment, then, had a better idea. "You do it."

"Why?"

"I'd like to test something." He suggested.

Bedelia didn't understand, but she wouldn't contrary him, after all, she feared him.

After talking on the phone briefly, she hung up.

"Alice Mallory wants to talk to you. It seems to be important" She asked, even though he heard the whole conversation. "Why did you ignore her?" She thought for a moment, then realized "You wanted to see her reaction... why?"

"You constantly say she doesn't care about me as I do, well, we'll discover that now." He explained calmly.

"No..." She shaked her head. "It's something else, isn't? Her emotions... You want to see how impulsive she can be...To push her limits."

Hannibal smirked satisfied. "I must say Dr.Du Maurier, you are a great professional at reading people."

"No...she..." Alice shaked her head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that, I was so nosy..." She felt embarrassed.

He got closer to her, embracing an arm around her shoulders. "No, you weren't, it's alright." He spoke softly, but still didn't make her feel better. "I just didn't think it was necessary... to speak about my therapy."

"And I understand that." She empathized with him again. "It is your personal life, I shouldn't-"

"But I want you to know about my personal life." He said in an intimate confession. "Because I want you in it, Alice."

She became speechless at first, the cheeks blushing softly, a small gap between her rosed lips. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know what I mean by that." He looked into her eyes, while softly caressing her cheek.

A silence between them, she could feel her stomach full of butterflies and confused emtions, while Hannibal waited with that gorgeous face that made her nervous. He ached for her to tell him what she felt for him, to finally admit her true emotions and surrender.

"No...I don't-"

"Isn't it clear now?" He insisted, not able to hold it any longer. "I believed it is already a common sense that I am attracted to you."

Alice immediatly put a pillow on her face, she wanted to hide, look away from him, completely embarrassed. The world spinned around, gravity just didn't feel right. "Why are you telling me this? I... you're just being nice to me..." She mumbled, feeling her whole face burn.

Hannibal found that adorable and chuckled, leaning foward "You are a charming, intelligent, talented and passionate woman, why wouldn't I be attracted you?"

"Don't say that!" Alice sunk her head even more into the pillow.

"What?"

"That word!"

"Attracted?"

"Yeah!"

"You mean you don't like me saying that I am attracted to you?"

"My goodness, stop!" She blushed harder.

He observed her shy figure attempting to hide from him. His large hand held the pillow that covered her face, and threw it away at once across the room. Revealing her red flushed face and messed up expression.

"Why would I do that?" He leaned foward, his eyes now with a mischievious glow meeting her widen, surprised ones. A small gap formed between her lips that he couldn't resist. He wanted her so much.

"What are you doing...?" She whispered, almost having a heart attack.

"What do you want me to do?" He whispered back, glancing slightly at her mouth, she shivered.

"I....I..." She barely could form a complete sentence. She was a diaster and he surrounded her as a prey, she fell into his trap, clueless, helpless. The more she spent time with Hannibal, the more she couldn't deny what she felt. And that scared her. "I left the window open!" She suddenly exclaimed and got up from the sofa.

"You...what?" He questioned extremely disappointed by the interruption. She couldn't be serious.

"I left the window open at home! I need to close it!"

"Now?"

"Yeah!"

"Are gou sure?" He was visibly frustrated.

"Mhm." Alice nodded, she barely could handle the emotion inside her chest, how nervous and clumsy she felt around him... She didn't want to fall for any games, she didn't know what they felt for each other, and worse, she didn't want to loose Hannibal's companion. If she rushed things, comitted a mistake like she did with Will, she would never be able to forgive herself for loosing someone like him. "I need to go."

He got up from the sofa and looked into her eyes, maybe invisibly attempting to make her stay. "If you insist..." Why couldn't he gather courage enough to ask her to stay? He felt angry with himself.

"...Good-bye Hannibal." She was sad about the decision as well.

"Good-bye, Alice."

Hannibal felt that bitter, bothering feeling inside him once again.

She had barely left and he already missed her.

▫️

"I wanted to talk to you." She said in a conspiracy tone, leaning foward on the table. "I remembered something."

Will immediatly leaned towards her as well, watching their surroundings to check if they weren't being heard at the yellow and red fast food restaurant.

"The voice?" He asked.

"What Bree said." She answered. "At the day she died, just before I heard the voice, she said that she was coming back soon and called me 'my little ladybug', right? She never used to call me that"

"Yes, you said that before."

"It was a message, Will." Alice looked into his chestnut hypnotic eyes. "She was scared. Scared of something."

"The killer."He understood her theory.

"His voice was real." Alice tried to remember but still couldn't. "But it wasn't Nick Boyle."

Will exhaled heavily. They were close now, so close that the atmosphere was heavy, pressing the truth against them, suffocating them both.

"How do you know?"

"Freddie Lounds."

Alice Mallory met the journalist at her home, for her surprise, Freddie's house was minimalist and modern, unlike her clothes. She let her in, and kindly let her sit at an armchair across hers.

"So, now you need my help." She mocked, crossing her arms.

"I know we had our issues." Alice tried not to start an argument.

"A lot of issues."

"Yes."

"And it was your fault."

Alice made a face but took a deep breath.

"Some...may have been my fault."

"All of them."

"Don't act as if you a saint, Lounds, we both know that you aren't." Alice finally snapped back.

Freddie grinned, but didn't argue.

"Okay, go straight to the point."

"Have you ever interviewed Nicholas Boyle for your blog?"

"Don't you have internet at your house?"

Alice rolled her eyes at her. "I mean with a  recording. Have you ever recorded a conversation with him?"

Freddie started to get interested on what she said, the journalist leaned foward, asking smoothly "Where do you wanna get with this?"

Alice swallowed dry, gaining strentgh to speak. "You said Nick wasn't the copycat." She recalled "I want to be sure about it."

"And how will you know that?"

"Because I've heard the copycat's voice." Alice finally admitted. "You want a story? I'll give you one. Only if you help me in return."

"You've made a deal with the devil." Will ran his hands through his face exhausted. "When Jack discovers that you let Freddie Lounds write about your case..."

"Jack Crawford doesn't care about my case." Alice corrected bothered. "He made that very clear before. All he wants is to blame Abigail Hobbs and close the copycat case."

Will stood in silence, putting it that way, she was right.

"Did she show you the record?"

Alice nodded. "It's not him" He rest his back at the chair, sighing. "I may not remember whose voice was, Will, but it wasn't Nick Boyle's."

Will nodded slowly with his head. "Did you tell anyone else about this?"

"No."

"Not even Hannibal?" He surprised himself.

"He doesn't want me to worry me about this." She explained cautiously. "Says that it's bad for my health...and after all, he believed that the voice was just a way for my conscience to deal with the trauma. That it wasn't real."

Will found his opinion strange, that didn't feel right. "But you don't believe him."

"Well I did...until now." She told him, closing her fists taking a deep breath. "I know it was real, Will."

"Well, that just makes my theory more correct." He added. Alice looked at him confused. "Whoever killed these girls... the copycat, and whoever killed Dr.Stucliffe and Georgia Madchen...they are the same person, Alice."

The air escaped her lungs for a second, shivers ran across her spine as people continued to laugh and ask for french fries. Many happy and average lives surrounding those two troubled souls at that table.

"You mean...he's still out there.." She muttered in shock.

"And close." Will confirmed, his hands slided through the table, meeting hers, surprisngly, both their skins were cold, terrified ,as their fingers intertwined attempting to exchange some cofmort to on another. "I think I can catch him, Ali."

She gave a bittersweet smile, watching their fingertips touching. "I know you will."

▫️

Will Graham had taken Abigail Hobbs back to Minnesota, no one, besides Alice Mallory, knew, and she would also not tell anyone else, since her friend's didn't wish to reveal his location.

Hannibal Lecter was with Alice Mallory at his office once again, she would go there whenever she felt alone, he was the first one that would come to her mind whenever Colin left home...or whenever she thought about anything actually. He loved moments like those, with Bach playing on the background, while he dww in his sketchbook, and she silently read a book.

He could notice when she approached him slowly, from behind, sneaking into watching his drawing. Hannibal glanced at her, sometimes his breath would escape his lungs just by doing that, he believed she was the epitome of beauty, a present sent from heaven, admiring her would never be enough.

"May I see it now?" She tried to observe as he hid the sketchbook from her eyes.

"You're a very curious creature, Alice." He gave a half smile.

"Indeed. That's one of my many qualities." She joked, resting her head on his shoulder, trying to convince him. Hannibal hid his extreme enjoyment whenever she did that.

"I know. And I love it." He said sweetly. "I love all of them."

Alice felt her heart speed, became a bit embarrassed, chortled softly. "If you keep saying these things I might..."

"What?" He teased.

She looked intensely into his eyes, lingering her sight towards his lips for a second, gaining a courage that she didn't believe she had inside of her. "...do it for the second time."

"Do what?"

Alice chuckled with a bit of mischief. God, he loved that. He loved when she teased, intrigued him, showing a bit of naughtiness in her pure figure. "Should I tell you?"

He thought for a moment. "Is it about-"

"That night."

He suspended his breath anxious. "Yes, please do." He couldn't wait anymore, he dreamed about that every night, the mystery that haunted his mind. And the fact that Alice hesited to tell him just made the matter even worse.

She bit her lower lip, causing his whole body again chills under her spell. She muttered slowly "You got drunk..."

"And..?" He asked, watching her come closer, whispering the words, their breaths shorter, aching, lusting for each other.

"And then you-"

Someone knocked on the door. Alice immediatly stopped. Hannibal almost groaned frustrated. Couldn't have been a worse timing "Do you have any patients now?" She asked.

"None that I'm aware of..."He found the situation odd. "Just a second."

Hannibal directed himself towards the door and opened it, revealing a stressed Jack Crawford who entered without notice.

"Sorry to barge in on you, Doctor. Couldn't wait."Jack said, already inside. But he stopped when he spot Alice Mallory at one of the armchairs. "I see you've got a visit." Both the agent and Alice exchanged hostile glances. "Well, maybe now that you're here, Miss Mallory, you may tell me what the hell is happening between Abigail Hobbs and Will Graham."

"What?" She furrowed her eyebrows, getting up from the chair and walking towards them.

Hannibal spoke calmly "Will has been victim of many unusual and irrational thoughts."

"Has he acted on these thoughts?"Jack interrogated.

"Not that I'm aware of"

"What are you saying? Will would never do that." Alice defended her friend. "He has even been experiencing lost of time, how could he be acting?"

"Yes, I've seen him confused at crime scenes." Jack retorted "I've seen him disoriented."

Hannibal looked at Alice, he didn't wish to fill her mind with that conflict, but unfortunetely he seemed to have no other choice. "He may have been confused because he was waking up. Might not have known where he was or how he got there."

"Waking up?"Jack asked.

"From a dissociated personality state." Hannibal explained. "He would appear perfectly normal and not remember a thing. But a fractured part of him would."

"How long have you been aware of this?"

"He's recently started to discuss this."

"Unless 'recently' means just before I walked into your office."Jack didn't seem so pleased about his answer. "You failed to mention any of this to me."

Hannibal seemed bothered by his assumptions. Alice defended him "Maybe because he was trying to determine if it was trauma and stress from the work Will has been doing for you or mental illness." She spoke through her teeth. "Hard to determine since you overwork him all the time."

Hannibal almost smiled by her savage attack. He loved that side of hers willing to defend others without thinking twice. And now she was defending him. The idea made him feel on cloud 9, as a happy idiot.

"Stay out of this, Miss Mallory." Jack sharply said.

"She is correct." Hannibal agreed. "I thought it would be wise to be sure before making any kind of claim about Will Graham's sanity."

Jack placed his hands on his waist and sighed heavily, something troubled him deeply. "He's taken Abigail Hobbs." Alice tried not to show her emotions through her face. "Do you have any idea where they might be going?"

"No." Hannibal shaked his head.

"What about you, Ms.Mallory?" Jack turned to her with an offensive interrogation tone. "You are a very intimate friend of Will Graham. Any idea where he could have taken Abigail Hobbs?"

Alice hesited, she met eyes with the agent and then with Hannibal, longer at the second one, almost as if he had read her mind. Swallowed dry, as the walls seemed to pressure her "...No, I don't know."

"Are you sure?" Jack didn't feel like she was being honest, and she wasn't indeed.

"I said: I don't know." She repeated clearly. She was, most of all, a very loyal person to those she cared about. She would never report Will Graham.

Jack knew he wouldn't get anything from her. He directed himself again towards the doctor. "We have evidence that she was involved in some of her father's crimes, just don't know how involved." Jack affirmed.

"What?" Alice couldn't believe him. "Abigail's only a child, she couldn't do something so..." she felt chills across her spine "..monstruous..."

"The evidences don't lie." Jack said coldly.

"You think Will is protecting her." Hannibal guessed. Alice looked at her partner speechless, how he could believe in something like that? It was pure insanity.

"Is it possible that he knew she was involved in her father's crimes?" Jack questioned.

Hannibal took a deep breath, a concerned expression was printed all over his face, wich made Alice fear for what would come next.

"There's something you should listen." He went to his desk and pressed play on a record player he had for his sessions.

"How did you feel seeing Marissa Schurr impaled in his antler room?" Hannibal asked in the record.

"Guilty." Will's voice appeared in the background.

"Because you couldn't save her?"

"Because I felt like I killed her."

Jack Crawford seemed overwhelmed by the discovery, running his hand over his face. He was exhausted as never before, unsure of what to do.

"Where was Will the night that Marissa Schurr was killed?" The agent asked.

"Wait, you don't think-"

"He was supposed to be in his hotel room." Hannibal interrupted Alice. "I knocked on his door, he didn't answer."

"We know he was in Dr.Sutcliffe's office the night he was killed." Jack created his own theory. "And Will was the last person to visit Georgia Madchen before she died."

"There's...one last thing." Hannibal feared to say. His eyes met with Alice's. "I never expected that we would reach this conclusion but...I can't simply ignore it now."

"What is it, doctor?" Jack asked.

"Bree Mallory." Hannibal spoke carefully. Alice paralyzed. Her eyes reflected pure pain, and even that managed to make him unstable for a moment "Will...saw her one week before her death."

"He....what..." The room spinned around her. "No... he didn't say that to me-"

"He told me. Just recently." Hannibal replied. She stared at him hepless. "Made me promise not to tell you."

"Why...I...don't understand..." her legs failed for a moment, Hannibal approached her, and held her hand softly, trying to give some comfort "Why didn't he tell me?"

"They had an argument. Bree seemed to keep some grudges since he left you." He explained.

"Do you think the fight lead Will to kill Bree Mallory?" Jack thought.

"No, he wouldn't do that." Alice shaked fastly her head, attempting to defend her friend "Hannibal, Will tried to help me, he wouldn't do that. Tell him." She begged for it not to be true. Her partner's hazel eyes avoided hers "Tell him, Hannibal."

It tore him apart to see her that way, but he needed to do it.

"Will loves you, Alice." He said it out loud. Alice could feel his discomfort by saying that. "Bree Mallory was against that feeling since it only hurt you in the past-"

"No..." A tear rolled down her cheek. "No...that's not true..." She refused to believe and tried to be strong, shaking her head.

"This is what Will said when he told me about it." Hannibal played another record.

"But don't you think she has the right to know?" Hannibal's voice questioned.

"Maybe she does. But I can't." Will replied. "Whenever I think about it...I come to the conclusion that Bree died hating me." His breath trembled. "I feel...guilty. I couldn't help her, and she wouldn't want my help either."

"Did you hold any anger, perphaps frustration or grudge against Bree Mallory for what she did?"

There was a long pause in silence

"I can't blame her for hating me." He told him. "But I also can't deny that I did feel...resentment towards her." He admitted. "She got under my skin."

Once the record stopped, Alice was frozen, her face was filled with tears. Jack Crawford held his breath, realizing what happened to his best Agent.

"The dissociative personality state you say he goes into..." Jack muttered. "Whose personality is it?"

Hannibal managed to make Alice sit down, she was schocked, couldn't react, couldn't speak.

"He said he got so close to Garret Jacob Hobbs and what he had done..." Hannibal replied with caution, as he caressed her back. "...that he felt he was becoming him."

Alice covered her face with her hands horrified. Hannibal squat on the ground to be on the same level as her, trying to whisper at her ear that everything would be alright.

"And now he has Hobbs' daughter." Jack concluded. "Who Hobbs intended to kill."

"I'm so sorry, Jack." Hannibal replied with sadness. Then glanced at the woman he admired so much, now completely broken. "Alice..."

"Miss Mallory..."Jack Crawford, who wasn't much of a fan of Alice, this time, didn't see her aa the woman that interrupted Will Graham's work. He saw a fragile, broken and mourning girl, a helpless one that was betrayled for someone she loved. He couldn't imagine her pain. "I am sorry for your loss." For the first time Jack Crawford showed empathy towards her. "But... I must ask, did Will Graham, between all these years, show any sign of mental ilness or violence?"

She hesited, still not able to speak. Then gazed at Hannibal, seeking for help.

"Will, in order to protect Alice from her father, who was blackmailing her, almost killed him in a fight." Hannibal confessed to the agent in her place. "Alice was expelled from college because she took the blame for it, but they continued as friends. 2 Years later, Will Graham's health got worse." His eyes met Jack's.

"He entered the FBI." The agent understood.

"He pulled Alice away to protect her."

"And years later, after Bree Mallory's death, they meet again." Jack looked down. "Sounds like a movie story."

Alice was still there, sitting on her chair, staring at the wall. All the memories came down furiously like a waterfall, she couldn't believe that Will could possibly have done that. He offered to help her...it couldn't be true...

She barely noticed when Jack Crawford left the room, was still too schocked for that.

Hannibal was still kneeled on the ground in front of her, as he watched her dead eyes and her skin pale as milk. The colorful and energetic woman hw adored had became a ghost.

"Alice." He tried to wake her up. "Alice, love...I am so sorry..." He held her hands as precious jewels. "I can't even imagine how you feel..."

She tried to shake her head. "It can't be him, Hannibal." Her voice failed, she tried to hold the urge to cry. "He tried to help me..."

"He tried to get close to you again..." he manipulated her. "Maybe he..."

"Maybe he what?"

Hannibal looked into her freezing blue eyes. "Maybe he knew that this way you'd come back to him."

She tried to speak but couldn't, instead, she whimpered, sobbed uncontrollably. Her whole body quivered as Alice closed tight her eyes into the sadness. The thought of Will being a killer, her sister's killer, was too painful for her to imagine. She could almost feel the knifes twisting inside her body as her sister felt, the organs being removed from her being, the taste of blood inside her mouth.

"I'm sorry, darling..." he whispered as she collapsed into the colera of her grief and betrayal. He kissed her hands softly, trying to take her grief away. "I know it will not ease your pain but...I'm here for you." When he said that, she threw herself his arms continuing to cry, soaking his white shirt with her tears, as Hannibal involved her completely. Both of them sitting on the floor, as she violently mourned. "I'm here..." he reassured calmly, petting her hair.

"How..." She almost couldn't speak. "It can't be...Hannibal..." She looked into his eyes. He cupped her face with care, softly. "I never felt so much..." She put a hand above her own chest, almost as if she would explode.l

"Pain." He completed, watching the thunderstorm inside her soul.

"I feel like I could die."

He placed his hand above the one on her chest, and looked directely into her eyes. "But you won't." He assured her. "You will survive."

She breathed heavily, immersed into his figure, as she tried to organize her thoughts. She couldn't hide the truth from him. No, she felt so...understood by him, liek she could tell him anything.

"I lied." She confessed filled with guilt "I lied to Jack Crawford."

Hannibal nodded, he already had read her thoughts, he knew her better than herself. "I know."

"He's in Minnesota. He took Abigail... Hannibal what if something happens to her?"

"It won't." He calmed her. "It is not your fault, Alice." She listened to him attentive. "Do you understand? It is not your fault." He assured her multiple times.

She tried to agree with him, but couldn't help but feel this immense fear inside of her.

"I should talk to Jack and warn him." He lied. "I'll drive you home."

"I don't want to go there." She shaked her head, she was terrified, traumatized. "If I go there..." Her eyes faced oblivion "...everything will come back again..."

He helped her stand on her feet, still holding her arms gently, imagining that if he let her go for a second, she would crumble into pieces.

"Can I take you to my house then?" He offered "Would you feel better there?" That's all he ever wanted.

"I don't think I'll ever feel better." Alice mumbled completely broken.

"But you will." He comforted her" I will help you." He kiss softlyher cheek that was sour from the tears. "You are not alone." He whispered softly, as he led her towards the door, Alice was completely surrended, helpless, numb. "I'll be by your side."

▫️

Hannibal Lecter did what crushed his heart to do it.

He killed Abigail Hobbs.

And when Will opened his eyes, completely unaware of what happened, it was too late.

Alice Mallory was still there, hidden under the comfortable sheets at a room in Hannibal's home, her head aching from the crying, her heart bleeding over the revelations.

The voice over the phone. What if Hannibal was right? What if it wasn't real, and, in reality, Will wanted to make her believe it was, so he could blame someone else? To create a connection between Hobbs and the Mallory case just so he could get rid of it, to make other person pay for his sins?

She was doubting everything now. And while the world seemed to destroy itself around her, a sound echoed in the air.

Her phone rang loudly in her ears. The different sound revealed who the caller was, and she was afraid to pick it up. She was afraid to hear his voice and not see the truth. To believe in his lies again and ignore what he did.

"Hello? Alice?" She listened to Will's voice at the other side of the line. Her heart trembled, she held the tears. "Alice, you need to help me." He said nervous. But Alice Mallory couldn't speak, just cry, cry so aggresively that he could listen to her sobs through the phone "Alice?" Will asked worried. "Alice what happened?" He felt his heart speed, forgetting about himself and instantly worrying about her.

"You."