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writingwithadinosaur · 4 years ago

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“Under the Knife - Part 8

“Under the Knife” - Part 8

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2,700-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Violence,

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: This is my first Hannibal piece and I am proud of it. There aren’t too many stories for Hannibal, so I figured I would add to the collection.

This does take place in some happy medium where they are all alive and work together. Sort of a happier season 1 era.

This is beta-read by @theeactress, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again!

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List: @fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude @ntlmundy @a-person-unlabled

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Today was the first day in awhile that you didn’t feel any intense pressure weighing down on your shoulders. You walked into your office, prepared to have another day of trying to figure out the puzzle that was the Virginia Scalpel. But as soon as you shut the door, you realized that you didn’t have to worry about that anymore. It was a strange relief that you hadn’t ever felt.

Although Jack’s tactical team still hadn’t caught Henry Urik yet and you were unsettled by him still being out there, you weren’t as scared as before. The killer that had been teasing you and that had named you one of his next victims now had a name.

Jack’s team had all of the information that you and Hannibal could give them. You also had an armed agent watching over you and Hannibal until Henry was caught.

All you had to worry about at the moment was your 1 o’clock lecture on the “stereotypes of gender roles and how they can affect the psyche of an individual,” and then you could take a half day and go take a nap at home. Well, that and your dinner with Hannibal tonight. But even then, you weren’t as worried about that as you were about Henry still being out there.

Your lecture went by quickly, even the students seemed to understand everything rather easily. Only a couple asked a few questions for clarification after your presentation. Even with those students stopping you, you got out a bit earlier than anticipated. Looking at your watch, you realized that Will was going to be leading a lecture soon.

I should probably talk to him. And I do really miss those dogs.

After stopping by your office to grab your bag and close up, you weaved through the familiar hallways to the nearest coffee machine, getting two cups, making one how you like and one for Will. With both cups securely in your hands, you found the lecture hall he was assigned to today. You softly walked in, seeing your brother completely entranced in something on his laptop. Before you made it all the way into the room, you cleared your throat in effort to grab his attention. It worked. As soon as he located where the noise was coming from and saw you, he stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk.

“(Y/N)! Hey! Wh-what uh… What’s up?” You knew he was trying to not seem nervous, but you could see through him. You took a few steps closer and offered him the coffee cup, not seeing the probably empty one already on his desk. You tried to make your voice as comforting as you could.

“I was passing by and decided to stop by to ask you something.��

“Is everything okay?” Will was hesitant but took the coffee, looking all over you for any sort of tells as to what is going on.

“As okay as they can be.” You shrugged, not feeling anything in particular, which only added to Will’s worry and confusion.

“What��s going on, (Y/N)?”

You pause, seeing the visible uncomfortableness and growing fear in Will’s features. You quickly try to find a way to calm him down while getting to the point of why you’re here.

“Do you think the dogs would mind their favorite aunt stopping by for a drink tonight?” You couldn’t help the small smile that crept across your face as a slightly bigger one formed on Will’s. You could hear the extra air he let out in his chuckle, an obvious sigh of relief.

“I think they would really like that.” His smile faltered a tad as he looked down to his hands. He spoke quieter, as if unsure how you would react. “I would really like that.”

As he looked back towards your face to see your reaction, you met him with a sincere and reassuring smile.

“Good. Me too.” Another huff of relief from Will. “I have dinner plans with Hannibal tonight. But I was hoping I could just drive over afterwards for a nightcap?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll have the good stuff ready and waiting for you.” Will took a breath in, trying his best to be careful with his words. “And, if that nightcap ends up turning into a few, you could crash at my place.”

Again, Will looked as if you were a powder keg about to explode if the wrong button was hit. You just closed the gap between the two of you and wrapped your arms around his torso, his finding their place around you.

Your brother was not fond of physical affection from a majority of people. But you were one of the very few that he not only tolerated, but sometimes felt a need for.

“I’ll pack an overnight bag just in case.” You pulled away and tapped your hand on his upper arm. “For now, I am going to go home and take a nap.

“Jack’s letting you go home early?” Will was genuinely surprised. Jack was never one for early dismissals.

“Well, considering I did finally find out the Virginia Scalpel’s real name last night and got all my work with that wrapped up, I think Crawford is a bit more lenient on what I do today.” You casually mention as you shrug.

“You did what?!” Will’s expression was one of shock and pride. A handful of students filed in behind you. A playful grin graced your face as you tapped his arm one more time before taking a couple of steps backwards.

“I’ll tell you all about it later tonight. I need to get ready for this assuredly anxiety-inducing dinner and you have a lecture to get through.” Will gave you a slightly annoyed look as you winked and walked away, talking over your shoulder. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”

You couldn’t see it, but Will just shook his head and let his smile linger a bit longer before turning his attention towards his class. As much as he worried about you during this case, he was very proud of his little sister.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you got back to your apartment, you tried to take a nap. Key word: tried. Your brain would not calm down enough for you to fall asleep for even a quick cat nap. The coffee that you got before meeting with Will probably didn’t help.

After tossing and turning for 30 minutes, you gave up and decided to make some tea and get some cleaning done around your place. You hadn’t been able to do laundry thanks to the case, so you finally started to chisel away at that pile.

Once you had put the last load in the dryer, you looked at the clock and saw that it was 5 o’clock. You had an hour before you were supposed to be at Hannibal’s. Might as well take my time and get ready.

After fussing with finding a comfortable but semi-formal outfit to match Hannibal’s aesthetic, you quickly packed a backpack with some overnight things. You were sure you’d end up talking to Will for longer than you both intend, meaning you’d either be too tipsy or too tired to drive home safely.

With the last of your laundry out of the machine and plopped onto your bed for you to put away later, you grabbed your keys and headed out the door. Preparing for anything to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As per usual, you pulled up to Hannibal’s five minutes early thanks to taking some backroads. You put the car in park and took the keys from the ignition, but you didn’t move. There was a tightening feeling in your chest. You tried to close your eyes for a moment and take some deep breaths.

Dinner won’t be bad. Hannibal is a trained psychologist. If anyone is going to be able to guide the conversation into a calmer place, it's gonna be him. Plus you know damn well that you miss spending time with him that isn’t plagued by confusion or the fuckin Virginia Scalpel. You two are adults. You can talk about literally anything and be okay.

So why am I still anxious?

Because you had your eyes closed, you didn’t see Hannibal approach your car. So when he opened your door, you instinctually jumped back and gasped.

“My apologies, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?”

“No. It's fine. I’m fine. I was just taking a breather.” Hannibal nodded, sensing that you didn’t want to expand on this further. So instead he held out his hand.

“Shall we then? I have some salmon in the oven that is awaiting your judgment.” He let one of those small side smiles of his grace his face in an attempt to comfort you as you reached for his hand and he helped you out of your car, shutting the door behind you once you got your purse.

Unlike usual, Hannibal led you to the dining room as opposed to the kitchen. He pulled out a chair for you. After you settled in, he poured you a cup of water and a glass of wine as he spoke.

“Everything is prepared, I just need to take the salmon out. I won’t be long.” You just thanked him and nodded as you took a sip of water.

Within a couple of minutes, Hannibal was walking in with two plates that looked just as artistic and beautiful as he normally presents. The main part was a rather large piece of salmon with thin lemon slices laid across the top, paired with a mix of halved grape tomatoes, white asparagus, and the same twirly romanesco broccoli that you had tried the last time you had dinner with Hannibal.

“This looks wonderful, Hannibal. Thank you.” You said as he sat down. The two of you started to eat, both of you trying to figure out how best to start the conversation that you knew was coming. Hannibal was the first to speak up.

“Are you planning on going somewhere?" You were caught off guard, not expecting this to be the starting point of your talk with him.

"What makes you say that?"

"I couldn’t help but notice the slightly overstuffed bag in your passenger seat. I assume it's for staying the night somewhere other than your own apartment. And while you’re always welcomed to stay here if you wanted, I don’t think you would without asking me first."

“Then you would be right. I wouldn’t impose on you like that.” You went to take a sip of your wine as you looked at Hannibal. He gave you a look that said that he knew there was more that you needed to share. “I talked to Will briefly today and we made plans for tonight. We are finally going to talk this all out. The bag is for in case I end up getting too tired and sleep on his couch."

Hannibal gave a slight nod before cutting off a piece of salmon and continuing the conversation.

“I'm sure Will is happy to finally have a moment to talk with you and share his side of the story."

“I'm sure he is.” You took a sip of your wine, bracing yourself for the unavoidable topic. “How about you, Hannibal?” Hannibal looked towards you and raised a curious brow. “What's your side of the story?”

Hannibal took a sip of water before turning his body slightly more towards you, giving you his full attention as he finally spoke on what he had been thinking about saying for days now.

“Will came to me rather distraught after you had said that you were going to accept Jack’s offer. It was my idea to insert myself into Crawford’s team as background support. And while my original intention for joining the Scalpel case was to ease Will’s mind, I couldn’t ignore my own reasons.” Hannibal reached a hand out and grabbed yours, you felt your cheeks warm at the unexpected contact. He was so gentle with you as he spoke sincerely.

“After seeing Will crack again and again under Crawford’s intense force on the handful of cases that they worked on, I was worried you would also be damaged under his leadership. I cannot deny that I do truly care about you and your wellbeing. And with this being your first time handling a major active case, I wanted to be there in case something were to happen to you.”

You weren’t sure what to say. Hannibal had not only told you that it wasn’t Will’s idea to have him follow you, but he admitted that he cared about you. The trouble was that you couldn’t tell if it was the type of caring that you had secretly longed for with a more romantic relationship with Hannibal or if it was similar to how your brother cares about you. You wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t fit together and be coherent enough for you to vocalize.

While you struggled to figure out how to respond, Hannibal lifted your hand to his lips and kissed the back of your hand softly before putting it down and reaching for his glass of wine, raising it in your direction.

“Here’s to you and your impressive mind. Without you, who knows how long it would have taken to find out the true identity of the infamous Virginia Scalpel.” You raise your glass and gently tap his, finally able to form a coherent thought again.

“I’m sure Crawford would have just asked for your help or maybe even Will’s if I hadn’t said yes. I got lucky with this one.” You took a sip of your wine, savoring the sweetness of it as you started to slice the fish on your plate. “Honestly, I don’t think I would have figured it out without you inadvertently helping me.”

“How so?” Hannibal questioned before taking a bite of salmon.

“When you came to check on me after the lab meeting, I went on to say something about being your friend and colleague but not your patient. And that’s when it hit me that we weren’t looking in the right demographic.”

There was a moment of silence as Hannibal thought about where to go from this information.

“And how do you feel now?” You finished the bite of food that you had and looked at your water cup, not wanting Hannibal to see into your eyes even though he was already watching you rather intensely. Trying to read all of the nonverbal indications you were giving.

“I feel okay. Well, as okay as I can be. That insane pressure of figuring out who the hell Henry Urik is was bigger than anything I’ve had to deal with since I started working with the FBI. But there is still the fact that Jack’s team still hasn't found him that has been really messing with me. That and the anxiety of finally having this talk with you and my brother.”

“I hope that some of that anxiety has worn away now that we have resolved things between us?”

“Some. But I can’t help but be worried until everything is settled.”

“You now know that protecting you was my intention when I joined the Scalpel case. I don’t intend for that promise to end with this case being closed.” Hannibal’s hand casually found yours again, making you focus even more on what he was saying (if it was even possible to focus more.)

“I promise to do everything in my power to make sure you feel safe and taken care of.”

His warm hand was instantly comforting and you hadn’t realized how much you craved physical affection from him, even in the smallest forms. Your heart swelled at his vow.

Before you could fully process what he had said, the click of a gun being armed and a very different voice demanded your attention from the other side of the room. A man with messy red-brown hair cocked and aimed a pistol right at you.

“I don’t know if you wanna make that promise so soon, doc.”

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #Hannibal TV #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal fandom #hannibal lecter / reader #will graham x reader #will graham #will graham / reader #will graham x sister!reader #Will Graham x Sibling!Reader #Sibling!Will Graham #Sibling!Will Graham x Reader

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writingwithadinosaur · 4 years ago

Text

“Under the Knife” - Part 9

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 4,300-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Violence, Torture, Stress/Anxiety

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: This is it! The big moment! There will be one more chapter after this!

Thank you all so much for the love and support this story has provided. I haven’t gotten this good of a reaction to my writing in awhile and it honestly moved me to tears and motivated me to write more. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you thank you thank you.

This is beta-read by @theeactress, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again!

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List: @fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude @ntlmundy @a-person-unlabled @germansarechill @rentheanonymous @liadamerondjarin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good evening, Henry.” Hannibal appeared to be calm despite the fact that a literal serial killer was in his dining room with a loaded pistol.

You on the other hand could barely breathe. It was as if your lungs had shrunk to half their natural size. Although it hurt, you forced yourself to take as close to normal breaths as you could. Panicking wouldn’t help the situation at all. Slowly, your hand found its way to your ring and you were able to focus all of your anxious energy there.

Staying calm was easier with Hannibal here. While you couldn’t take your eyes off of Henry, who was still aiming his pistol at you, hearing and feeling Hannibal’s more placid presence kept you from losing it.

“May I ask why you are pointing a gun at my partner, Henry?” Hannibal monotone but amiable voice spoke.

As much as you wanted to go over the fact that Hannibal had just called you his partner and distinguish which definition of ‘partner’ he meant, your focus was on Henry and trying to figure out how best to handle the situation.

“Let’s call it a precaution, Dr.Lecter.” Henry was looking at Hannibal, but then unsettlingly shifted his sights on you. “Now, (Y/N), I just want to talk.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to form words. You had no idea how to handle this situation. Figuring out the small details that a killer leaves behind at a crime scene or profiling a person based on their mannerisms was easy. But doing it in real time while the person in question has a fucking gun aimed at your chest? Where the hell do you even begin?

Hannibal saw your distress through your attempt at a neutral mask. He started to stand up and speak, trying to get the attention off of you long enough for you to figure something out.

“How about we--” Henry very quickly aimed the gun at Hannibal and shouted over him. You jumped in your seat and watched Hannibal’s interaction.

“Sit! Down!” There was obvious annoyance and anger in Henry’s voice.

You tried to look at him as if he wasn’t physically there.

How would you advise an agent to interrogate someone like Henry? What would they have to be careful of? What buttons did he have that could be pushed for their advantage?

Hannibal held up his hands in an effort to show that he meant no harm (yet) as he slowly sat back down. Henry took off a backpack that you only just now realized he was wearing and blindly reached in, keeping his eyes on you and Hannibal. He quickly found what he was looking for and tossed it onto the table in front of you, landing on your plate. The noise of the heavy object hitting the porcelain made you jump again.

“Shut him up.” You took a shaky breath as you looked down to what was thrown at you. A medium sized roll of duct tape had shoved your lemon covered salmon off your plate and left a crack underneath. “Go on, (Y/N)!”

You took a deep breath in, knowing that if you didn’t do this simple thing, one of you was going to be shot. You couldn’t fight the shakiness in your hands that the adrenaline manifested itself as. Lifting up the tape you unwound a piece that was large enough to cover Hannibal’s mouth and please Henry. The screech of the tape made you tense up.

Turning in your seat, you faced Hannibal. His face showed no sign of uncertainty. But when you looked into his eyes, you saw beneath his mask. He was worried, not about himself or the fact that Henry had gotten to the two of you. Instead, he was worried about you.

“It’ll be alright, my love.” Hannibal spoke loud enough for you to hear. His words didn’t completely ease the intensity of the scene, but it did give you some hope. Hope that after all of this, you would be able to hear him call you that more often.

You nod and blink back the beginnings of tears that had wormed their way forward. Being as gentle as you could, you smoothed the tape onto Hannibal’s mouth, rendering him silent until the predator in the room allowed him to speak. You kissed his cheek before settling back down in your seat, you look back at Henry to see him pleased with your work.

“Now,” Henry moved closer to you, now within a couple feet and the gun even closer to your chest than you’d like. “I want to know what you think, Miss Graham.”

Henry poked the gun at your shoulder on the word ‘you,’ causing you to fearfully close your eyes and let out a shaky breath through your nose. You couldn’t see, but Hannibal was watching with a careful gaze and a tensed jaw as Henry invaded your space. You attempted to look composed as you faced Henry.

“About what, Mr.Urik?”

“That’s Dr.Urik to you! And what else would I want to talk about? Me, of course!”

“Why do you want to know what I think about you, Dr.Urik? I’m not a doctor by any means.”

“I know you’re not a doctor. That is precisely why I want to know what you think of me and my work.” Henry lifted his free hand to put pressure on the left side of his head as he painfully closed his eyes. He was visibly getting annoyed that you weren’t giving him what he wanted quick enough, which you assumed was bringing back his headaches.

This is good! Keep thinking like this! Just do what you would do if you were talking to Jack or Hannibal about Henry! Please him for now and maybe you can figure out a way to get out of this shit alive.

You look at Hannibal for reassurance. He nods his head slowly and takes a visibly bigger breath to try and encourage you to do the same. You mirror his movement and find your starting point.

“Well, the first thing I notice is that you’re early.”

“What do you mean?” You could tell that Urik was thrown off by your beginning statement even though he kept his eyes closed and rubbed the side of his head. Hannibal was watching with slight amusement as you tried to knowingly talk with a serial killer face-to-face. His mind worked on a way to disarm Henry and save you from the spotlight while you spoke.

“You’ve been pretty consistent with killing right around every two weeks. You still have a few days before the next two week mark. Which either means that you are getting addicted to the feeling, or your headaches are getting worse.”

At this, Henry’s eyes shot open and he leaned closer to you, pushing the barrel of the gun into your sternum.

“You said you’re not a doctor. So how the fuck--” The pain in your chest now elevated thanks to a literal gun being shoved against it while the unease of this whole show was taking its toll on your lung capacity. But you pushed through and interrupted him, giving him more information that you knew, refusing to give Henry the fear response that he craved and instead tried to go for an ‘understanding’ point of view.

“Dr.Everet was no help to you, so he referred you to Dr.Lecter for therapy after hearing that your medical practice was shut down for what I’m sure was bullshit reasoning, and an eye doctor to see if your headaches were correlated to something like an ocular migraine. But then your eye doctor, Dr.Chasten couldn’t find anything, leaving you deflated as you were then sent to another doctor, Dr.Loriet. He was supposed to find something in your inner ear or sinuses that could explain all of this. He is-- was an ENT specialist after all. You’d think he’d find something, right?”

“Exactly!” Henry pulled out the chair next to you and sat down, finally relieving the physical pressure of the gun off your sternum. “That asshole just ran his tests so he could take my money and then send me to another fucking ‘professional’ and have them do the same thing”

You could tell that your angle of trying to talk to him as an equal was working as Henry settled in a bit comfortably in the chair. The only major hostile game piece was the gun that was still in play.

Hannibal knew what you were doing and was impressed. At this point, you were feeling slightly more confident in what you were saying and how you were saying it. You knew you still had a lot of work to do to maybe have a chance of getting you and Hannibal out of this alive, but it's better than no chance.

“And Dr.Pencalt, he--” You started as calmly as you could but Henry interrupted, sounding like a child who was in trouble and angry about it.

“Was a load of horseshit.” You turned to face Henry more, now sitting side saddle in the chair, a nonverbal trick to let him think that you were really interested in what he had to say. The only downside was that Hannibal was now completely out of your view behind you.

“He was your last hope, wasn’t he?” At that, Henry’s leg started to bounce. Obviously that statement resonated something within him, he spoke louder and more emotional than before.

“Motherfucker was supposed to be the best of the best and finally run the procedures that I’ve been askin’ for since this pain started. A goddamn neurologist. He should have--”

“He did the tests though, right?”

“He took my money, shoved me into machines, poked and prodded me, only to tell me the same shit that all of them were saying.”

“That it's all in your head?” You crossed your legs and leaned forward just slightly, taking on a sort of motherly tone, trying to solicit a softer and non-lethal response from Henry.

Apparently that didn’t work.

Henry slammed his fist on the table, making you jump back in your seat, trying to get some distance away from him. You quickly looked over your shoulder to check on Hannibal. He quietly put a hand on your back for a moment; not only to keep you from falling backwards, but to also provide some comfort. Henry burst out, yelling louder than before, truly upset by your words bringing back memories.

“Well of course it's in my head! They’re called headaches! So there has to be a reason they’re here and kicking my ass! And those bastards don’t want to tell me!” You could see angry tears forming in his eyes.

Definitely not the reaction I was hoping for.

You heard movement behind you. It was very quiet, but you heard the fabric of Hannibal’s suit move. You weren’t sure what he was doing and you couldn’t look back to check and bring attention to it. When you look back at Henry’s eyes, you see them shift to Hannibal. Before he could look closer and see any movement, you shifted in your seat to cover Hannibal and try to distract Urik.

“You-You’re using a gun for the first time! Which is different. Now I don’t think you actually plan on using that for both of us. You’re the Virginia Scalpel, not some lowlife gunman. But if you’re going to break your pattern and use that on anyone it would probably be… me. ”

Luckily, with Henry being so emotionally all over the place, he was receptive to the attention you were giving him.

“You’re right. This is new. Brand new actually. It's called a Hardballer! You like it?” He sort of showed it off like a game show babe would show off a prize. The lights in Hannibal’s dining room shined off the stainless steel barrel and absorbed into the dark handle base. You feigned fascination to try and keep Henry happy.

“It's beautiful! I mean, I would like it more if it wasn’t aimed at me, but I guess it's nice given the circumstances.”

Henry made a face and then, much to your surprise, uncocked the gun and put it on the table behind him, far enough away where you nor Hannibal could reach it. You watched him carefully as he leaned closer to you, trying to figure out what he was planning on doing next. He got to a certain point where you had to turn your face away because of how close he was getting. You quickly made eye contact with a very tensed up Hannibal. His eyes looked like those of a wolf: Dark, hungry, and protective.

Hannibal had been somewhere in the middle of being a curious bystander and a possessive guardian. This pig was threatening someone that Hannibal deemed to be his, whether you knew it or not. And that was a dangerous game to play with him.

As quickly as you made eye contact with your love, you were snatched away. Warm and rough fingers tightly gripping your chin, forcing you to look at Urik. When your fear-filled eyes met his, you felt the threatening chill of a scalpel being pressed against your cheek.

“Would you prefer this instead, miss Graham?

At this point, you couldn’t stop a dreadful tear slipping out and racing down your face, only to be met with the blade that was now pressing into your cheek. You felt the tip of the small knife poke through your skin just enough to start minor bleeding. A fear riddled whimper escaped your throat against your will. This kicked Hannibal into gear.

You heard motion behind you as Hannibal reached for the knife that he was using to cut into his salmon just a few moments ago. You braced yourself for whatever Hannibal was planning, expecting something to happen from behind you. Instead, you felt the scalpel drag through your cheek and across the cheekbone, earning you a lengthy gash. Henry had stood up and brought his knife up to point directly at Hannibal’s throat.

“Ah-ah-ah. Hands where I can see them, doctor. You’ll have your turn. Right now, I want to talk more with (Y/N).” You heard the knife drop behind you, Henry then taking the time to swipe away everything in front of Hannibal, leaving him weaponless.

You were now visibly shaking, something you were trying to avoid, knowing it would just fuel Henry. But you were losing hope in your ability to get out of this alive. You couldn’t see it, but Hannibal was furious that he couldn’t do anything to help you without putting your life at risk.

You were looking down, so you didn’t see the scalpel coming back towards your face. You had to stop yourself from jerking as you felt the cool metal under your chin, pushing your face up to look at your killer who stood in front of you now.

“Stand up.” Henry commanded as he turned the surgical knife so now the sharp edge was against the underside of your chin making you stand slowly; afraid that if you went too quick, the scalpel would find its home in your throat.

With the risks being as high as they were now, you followed him until you could figure out another tactic or if Hannibal could somehow find a way to get out. The two of you didn’t go far; only a few steps from the table. Henry turned you around so you now faced Hannibal with your back pressed against Henry’s chest and the knife pushed against your throat. Hannibal could now see the few tears that had fallen and mixed with the blood that was slowly coming from the cut on your cheek. No one could see it in his eyes, but the primal and murderous rage was building inside of him, close to bursting. He just needed a clear path.

“You know, there is a reason as to why I kill the wives so quickly.” Henry spoke in your ear but still loud enough for Hannibal to hear, obviously an intimidation technique.

“Oh really?” Your voice wavered near the end.

“People say that a quick death is considered a mercy, which would mean that life is technically a form of torture. I am saving these partners from a tortuous life created by their husbands.”

“You do realize that Hannibal and I aren’t married, right?” You look at Hannibal and see him tilt his head slightly.

To Henry, it looked like he was just making a movement to show he agreed with you. But you followed his head and his eyes to a point on the floor. When Henry had knocked everything off the table, he had failed to realize that a knife had fallen on the floor a foot and a few feet away from Hannibal. You took a deep breath in and gave a minuscule nod, which Hannibal read perfectly.

We’re getting out of this.

“Yes. But I also realize that there is that connection between you two.” As much as you detested Henry, you had to agree with him on this. There was a connection that you and Hannibal had that the two of you couldn’t ignore anymore. “And that's good enough for me.”

You felt Henry lock his feet in place, preparing to slice open your neck just like how you saw on Mrs.Pencalt. Before you could think too much, you blurted out the first thing that popped into your mind.

“I’m sorry, Henry!” You felt Henry stutter and stop out of confusion.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For making your headache worse.”

Before he could fully process what you had said, you threw your head backward, pounding right into his forehead. Henry dropped his hand from your throat and pressed both of them to his head to try to ease the pain that had now grown exponentially. You pushed through the throbbing pain that radiated across the back of your head and elbowed him in his diaphragm, causing him to lean forward in pain as you launched towards the table.

Henry forced himself to stand straight and try to refocus on you, letting out a string of expletives as he did. You quickly got to the gun, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

But nothing happened. No loud bang. No thud of a body hitting the ground. Nothing.

The gun was empty this whole fucking time.

You froze for a second, but that second cost you this fight. Henry grabbed you by your hair and swiftly crashed your head onto the table, knocking you unconscious.

Before Henry could end your life then and there, Hannibal expertly threw the knife from the floor at Henry, landing it in his left thigh. As he dropped his hold on you and his scalpel, Hannibal quickly stalked up to Henry; a true predator coming in to play with their food before the final kill.

A tight fist meets Henry’s abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. As Henry leans forward in pain, he is met with Hannibal’s knee rushing to Henry’s face, surely breaking his nose. As he is bent down further, Henry reaches into his pocket and finds the syringe he had prepared earlier. He gets a better grasp of it before heaving himself at Hannibal, aiming the needle at his neck.

Hannibal quickly stepped to the side and caught Henry’s hand with the syringe in it. He bent Henry’s arm back until there was a loud pop and a scream of pain, resulting in Henry dropping the tube full of paralyzer into Hannibal's open hand.

Henry felt a new wave of anger as his plan was falling apart.

With this second wind, Henry pulled the knife out of his leg with his uninjured hand and slashed at Hannibal, getting a slice across Hannibal’s hand. The unexpected cut caused Hannibal to recoil and let go of Henry’s wrist, but still managed to kick a heavy foot into the now open wound in Henry’s thigh. Henry faltered, giving Hannibal enough time to take the syringe and stick it into Henry’s neck, emptying the entirety of its contents into his system.

As Henry cried out in pain and involuntarily stumbled backwards, Hannibal walked close to where you were laying on the floor. He knew Henry dropped his scalpel near you. Hannibal was trying to keep his mind calm and focused on “handling” his unwelcome guest, but then his gaze fell on your limp body. Seeing you unconscious and not being able to clearly see if you were alive or not sent him over the edge.

He would come to your side in just a minute. For now, he picked up the knife, ripped the duct tape from his mouth, and let the familiar bloodlust consume him.

Henry was mid-charge, kitchen knife in hand, when Hannibal kicked his leg out straight and knocked Henry on his ass once again. Hannibal sauntered closer as Henry wobbled, trying to get to his feet but finding it progressively harder and harder to get his muscles to move at his command. Nevertheless, Henry kept attacking even though he could almost no longer bend his right leg.

Hannibal could see just how quickly the paralytic was coursing through his victim, obviously some sort of mutated version of the basic drug in order to quicken the effects. He let a devious smirk flash on his face, causing a twitch of fear to soar through Henry’s heart for a second as he tried to lunge at Hannibal, knife aimed and ready to land in the middle of Hannibal’s chest.

Before the kitchen knife could come close to Hannibal’s sternum, he reached and grabbed his wrist, twisting it harshly down to his side and pointed away from any potential contact, expecting Henry to drop the knife. Henry screamed but didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go. More and more of his body was being inhibited. Hannibal took this opportunity to follow in your footsteps and worsen Henry’s headache more.

The quick but painful clash was enough to disorient Henry. He could barely even try to recover when Hannibal plunged the scalpel into Henry’s shoulder, using all of his force to dig it in further and further until he could feel the metal hit bone.

The kitchen knife dropped next to him as the scalpel went further and further into him. He looked down and chuckled, the effects of the paralytic kicking in.

“There is something ironic about the Virginia Scalpel being killed by his own tools. Don’t you think, Dr.Lecter?”

“I supposed there is. Or perhaps it is like you said, Dr.Urik: Life can be perceived as a form of torture. Yours has been torturous for you and others for long enough.”

“Perfect.” Henry had used the last bit of muscle control he had left to get the last word and let out a pathetic chuckle.

Hannibal could feel Henry’s muscles tensing up and freezing, allowing him to toss Henry against a wall and watch him fall to the floor, unconscious and powerless. He took two quick deep breaths before rushing to your side.

He gently picked up your wrist and searched for a pulse. Once he found one, he let out a breath that he wasn’t aware that he was holding. He kept a hold of your wrist as he found his phone and dialed Jack Crawford’s number, letting your pulse be a grounding point for him. Hannibal was usually more put together during killings, but the added factor of your life being in danger threw him off his rhythm.

“Dr.Lecter, I don’t have any update for you. I will let you know as soon as I--”

“I’m afraid I have an update for you, Jack. Henry Urik was in my home this evening. He attacked (Y/N) and me.” Hannibal looked away from you for a moment to glance at Urik’s stiff but barely breathing body against the wall. He took a deep breath in, making it sound like a defeated sigh. “Henry fled after I fought with him. He is injured, but he escaped and I do not know where he went.”

“Are you alright?” Jack was now aware of the severity of the situation. Hannibal could hear him moving from wherever he was, preparing to make his way to Hannibal’s home.

“I have some minor injuries. But I’m afraid (Y/N) needs an ambulance. She is unconscious and most likely has a concussion. I’m doing what I can to stabilize her until we can get her to a hospital.” Hannibal reached up on the table and grabbed one of the cloth napkins, using it to clean up and apply some pressure to the slice that Henry had created on your face.

“I’ll be there with a med team and backup soon.” Jack hung up as soon as the last syllable came out. Hannibal put his phone on the table. He then lightly caressed your face, bowing down and kissing your forehead before standing up.

Hannibal stretched his neck and rolled up the sleeves of his now cut and bloodied shirt. It wasn’t the first shirt of his to be ruined by blood, but he wasn’t anticipating this one joining the collection. Looking at the disaster that was his dining room table, he poured himself a glass of wine as he sighs, truly upset that his nice and planned evening with you went so sour. He then slowly turned and made his way to the corpse on the other side of the room.

Hannibal picked up the kitchen knife that had fallen out of Henry’s grasp during the final blow and moved it around in his hand until it was comfy again.

“Now, Dr.Urik,” He squatted down next to Henry, dragging the knife across his stiff cheek as he took a sip of his wine before speaking. “What shall we do with you?”

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