The Last Temptation

The Last Temptation
Chapter 2: Crystal Ball
Story By: The Adrians
Song By: Keane

Started: July 14, 2006
Finished: July 29, 2006

Authors' Note:

Thanks so much to Simarillion and darkangel985 for their wonderful reviews. We're so happy you liked to first chapter. We hope you like this one too. Also, thanks a bunch to Q for being that driving force, and the foot that kicked our asses into finished thing chapter. This fic starts at the end of day 3, and ends at the beginning of day 8. There is some direct quoting from Red Dragon, the novel, in this chapter. All such work is property of Thomas Harris. Again, we make no money off his genius.

Love

-T.A.

PS: Read and Review!

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Chapter 2: Crystal Ball

Who is the man I see
Where I'm supposed to be?

Will barely slept that night. He kept drifting in and out of those fuzzy half-dazes. He'd doze for a short time, then a car would pull into the parking lot of the motel, or a spoiler would be just loud enough to break him out of his peace. The ex investigator lay awake for a time, then his mind returned to the haze. His thoughts wandered blearily while his tired eyes fixed themselves to the ceiling. At one point during the night he was roused by a noise and found his eyes were already open. He clambered out of bed and towards the sink to do something about his stinging eyes, when he glanced up at the mirror. The reflection hadn't changed much over the last 11 years. Golden blond hair, angular face, long nose, decently full lips.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Will turned his head, so the orange glow of the streetlight outside could illuminate the left side of his face.
He sighed as he noted the long scar stretching from the top of his cheekbone to just along the curve of his lower jaw.
He'd gotten used to that by now. He'd gotten used to a lot of things.
Like laugh lines and worry lines- There were a lot more worries than laughs by now. He'd even gotten used to the occasional grey hair, a friend of the worry line.
Will stared at his reflection for a long while. He'd forgotten about his stinging eyes, instead focusing his attention on the scar on the left side of his abdomen.
“Never forget who gave you the best of them...”
Will wasn't sure which one was best- the scar Hannibal had given him on the outside, or the one he had left on the inside.

I lost my heart
I buried it too deep
Under the iron sea...

The little sleep Will got was blessedly blank, devoid of thoughts or dreams or feelings.
He was sleeping the sleep of the emotionally exhausted.
At the first traces of dawn, he set out again.
He drove for a long time, only stopping to fill his car with gas. He didn't have much of an appetite. Will stared at the yellow lines speeding by. They were beginning to become entrancing. Will knew then that he'd at least have to have some coffee before he did any more driving. At the next gas station, he bought a cup and drank it black. He didn't stop again until the car was dead empty.
That was ten o'clock, and he was almost out of South Carolina. He figured he'd reach Marathon in a day or two.

It was very late at night, two days later when Will pulled into his own driveway. He didn't bother with unpacking. That could all wait until later. He flopped into bed, clothes and all and fell asleep.

Oh crystal ball, crystal ball save us all
Tell me life is beautiful
Mirror Mirror on the wall...

Will opens his eyes to a blindingly white light. He rolls over, groaning at the stinging in his eyes as they fight to adjust. Finally, he manages to sit up and look around. He's in his bed.
He looks to his left.
Molly's there.
Will sighs. It's just a dream.
How long will this one last?
He gets up, not bothering to wake dream Molly. He knows what becomes of him waking her is harder to bear in a dream than it was in real life.
Instead, he heads downstairs, and out of the front door. He'd explored his dream house many times.
This one wasn't any different from the others. As he opens the door to step into the Florida morning sun, he notices something white on the doormat.
An envelope. This is new.
He leans over and picks it up. It's addressed to him. He opens it.

“Dear Will,
Here we are, you and I, languishing in our hospitals. You have your pain and I am without my books- the learned Dr. Chilton has seen to that.
We live in a primitive time- don't we, Will? Neither savage nor wise. Half measures are the curse of it. Any rational society would either kill me or give me my books.
I wish you a speedy convalescence and hope you won't be very ugly.
I think of you often.
Hannibal Lecter”

Will drops to his knees and begins to sob.

Lines ever more unclear
Not sure I'm even here...

Will Graham woke a few moments later.
He looked to his left.
Empty.
Molly was in Oregon, with Willy and her parents. She hadn't been here for some time.
A few years now. Will sighed as he lay back in bed.
He still got letters from Willy on occasion, telling him how he was, how his mom was, how the pony was.
It made Will sick.
He figured Molly didn't know anything about the letters, and if she ever did, he'd find himself in the face of a lawsuit.
When he replied to letters, he made sure he was very brief. He didn't think it was wise to burden an 11 year old with his emotional problems. He also didn't think it wise to sign his name at the bottom of the letters or leave a return address. He typed all of his letters and printed address labels to Willy's house in Oregon.
It made things much easier, he thought.

Letters...Will closed his eyes and tensed, fighting a shiver. He slowly got out of bed, and walked downstairs. He stood himself before the front door, reached out and pulled the handle.
Nothing.
Will sighed and closed the door. God, what was he doing? He shook his head. He could barely believe how paranoid he'd become. He was falling victim to his own imagination.

“Fear is the price of our instrument, Will...”

Will shook his head again, more violently this time. “Shhhh...” He whispered. He did that often, shushing himself. It was the only way he could think of quieting his mind.

“But I can help you bear it...”

“SHUT UP!” Will slammed his fist into the wall next to the door. He heard a crack and felt one too, deep in his hand, followed by a hard, piercing pain. He stumbled backwards and fell onto the stairs. Will pulled his hand to his chest and cradled it, starting at the blood dripping from his knuckles for a long time...

The more I look the more I think that I'm
Starting to disappear...

It was sometime later that he managed to get himself up from the stairs and make his way to the shower. He stood under the water for what felt like hours, letting his skin scald and turn red, his fingers shriveled. He didn't step out until the water got too cold to bear.
Finally, Will made his way downstairs for the second time-to dress his hand and possibly eat.
There wasn't much in the fridge.
A jar of pickles, a few loaves of bread, a carton of orange juice, a jar of peanut butter, and maybe somewhere deep inside, a beer.
Will dug around until he found the beer, then set about making a peanut butter sandwich. He toasted the slices of bread.
It was easier to spread the peanut butter that way.
He was careful of his hand. He'd wrapped it in a dishtowel and just hoped he hadn't broken anything.
Will finished making the sandwich and started towards his back door with the gooey peanut butter bread on a plate in one hand, and his beer in the other. He opened the back door, and was about to step out into the Florida sunshine, when something small and white on the doormat made him stop.
The peanut butter sandwich made a soft plop as it fell to the ground.
The can of beer and the plate were slightly louder.

Oh crystal ball, crystal ball save us all
Tell me life is beautiful
Mirror Mirror on the wall...

The ex investigator's hands shook as he knelt down to pick up the small, white envelope addressed to him.
The copperplate handwriting was unmistakable.
Will didn't stand up, he simply fell back onto the mat and stared.
He didn't blink for a long time. Eyes burning, Will still managed to stare, mouth ajar, head suddenly blank and cottony feeling. It was after a very long moment that Will actually began to inspect the letter. He didn't think at all about the paper being laced. That didn't seem much like Lecter, anyway. The envelope was closed very tightly, and sealed with wax. Will would need a paper knife if he were going to open the thing.
Will usually made a point of never having one near him.
Instead, he used his fingernails as best he could. The paper was thick, but finally he managed to slit the top of the envelope open and reveal a very expensive looking mauve stationary.
Trembling still, Will pulled the paper from the envelope and unfolded it.
Tears welling already, he began to read.

“My dear Will,
This letter is shamefully overdue. I've skipped the last couple of Christmas cards and feel just awful. I've been a little preoccupied- but that's hardly an excuse.
I'm sure you know about my escape by now. Has our Jack decided to bring you in again?
Have you accepted?
He's told you the details, I know. That is why you were away when this message was delivered.
Yes, that means I'm terribly near. Don't worry, Will. You won't be seeing me for a while yet. I just wanted you to know you're in my thoughts.
I look forward to whatever may come of this.

Hannibal Lecter"

Will read the letter once, then over again, before the tears began to flow freely.

On a small slip of paper that had rested neatly inside the envelope until now, Will found:

H.
P.O. Box
117417 Marathon, Florida 33050

Oh crystal ball hear my song
I'm fading out
Everything I know is wrong...

Will lay on his back doorstep until the sun's heat got too intense just to stay idle. He dragged himself inside the air conditioned house and fell onto the large leather sofa in the living room. Will soon grew cold. The handmade green afghan resting atop the sofa, Will pulled down and wrapped around himself. He shivered with fear and hurt, and something else...something so sick Will couldn't identify the feeling, else fall victim to it-
Excitement...

So put me where I belong...

White white, blinding white. It's everywhere. It's cold like snow, but not wet. Will opens his eyes to Bethesda Naval Hospital. He looks to his left. No one's there. This is familiar.
He looks to his right. There's a door. Number 519. That's the 5th floor. What's on the fifth floor?
The psych ward...
Will freezes. He knows this room, this bed, these plain white walls too well.
He falls back on the bed and cries.
From the door, a familiar voice calls his name.
“Will.”
Will looks up, and wipes at his tears. He turns his head to see Dr. Hannibal Lecter standing at the door, waiting for permission to enter.
Will waves minutely, then beckons him in.
“Will what's happened to you?” Hannibal asks with a gentle smile.
The investigator shrugs a little and looks around.
“I guess I'm not cut out for all the repercussions of...” Will paused.
Hannibal nods. “You don't have to say it. I got a call from Alan Bloom this morning, asking me to come to see you here. I don't usually make house calls.”
Will looked apologetic. “I'm sorry. I don't want to be any-”
The doctor holds up one hand. “No, Will. It's my pleasure. We don't have to talk about anything related to,” He gestures to the room about them, “This. I think you need a friend more than doctor now.”
Will graces Hannibal with a wide smile and leans back in bed.
“Thank you...”
“It's no problem, Will. As I said, my pleasure.”
Will and Hannibal talk for a long time about whatever comes to mind.
“I'm thinking of leaving the country, Will. What do you think?”
Will is silent momentarily. He's about to speak when Hannibal reaches out and puts a hand on his.
“Why don't you come with me, Will?”
The investigator i astounded. He can't think. He's suddenly happy, but also confused and curious.
“Well, Doctor...I'm marr-”
-“I know, Will. But if you knew what I do, the it would hardly matter.”
The investigator frowns for a moment, but suddenly Hannibal's face is very close to his. Close enough to feel the doctor's breath pushed softly against his lips, and to have his nose touching the other's. Slowly, what space there had been, is closed as both me lean into the kiss that seems to last forever...

I don't know where I am
And I don't really care...

Tears dribbled over the leather around Will's face as he blinked awake. He remembered that day in the hospital, but he didn't remember the last bit. There had been talk of just about everything but the matter at hand, and Hannibal didn't seem to mind. He had been called to council Will, but he'd ended up sharing with Will. Man to man. They could have been any two friends idly conversing. But it was just that- friendly. Will didn't remember Hannibal ever coming even close enough to touch.
Will couldn't honestly tell what felt worse- having dreamt that kiss, or knowing it never happened.

I look myself in the eye
There's no one there...

Reluctantly, Will got up from the couch. He figured it was about time to redress his wound. He took the blanket with him, though. It had started to get dark, and now the house was chillier than ever. Will stopped at the back door. The letter still sat on the step, as did his sandwich, the plate, and the beer. Will decided to gather the food up and dispose of it before he redressed his hand.
Once finished, the ex investigator sighed. He padded out onto the back steps and picked up the letter, address and envelope. He slid the papers back inside the envelope, and set them on the counter as he went back inside.
Will walked across his kitchen and opened the liquor cabinet, then. Molly wasn't here to tell him to mind his drinking anymore. Will found a bottle of Jack Daniel's and lifted it to his lips.
Cheap, but effective.
He laughed.
Will brought himself up next to the counter, and stared down at the envelope.
He wasn't sure he knew what to do.
The rational, sane part of his mind was telling him to ignore the letter, or maybe forward it to Jack.
The rest of his mind was brimming with that excitement/sickness he'd been feeling earlier.
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the shock. Either way, it made Will curious as to what Lecter meant to happen by sending him the letter.

“I look forward to whatever may come of this."

He stared for a while, contemplating his actions, but the alcohol was starting to take its toll.

Will decided to head back up to bed. He didn't really want to sleep, for fear of dreaming, but he figured he might as well be comfortable while he watched the world fall apart again.

I fall upon the earth
I call upon the air
But all I get is the same old vacant stare...

Lying on his bed, Will stared at his throbbing hand. The bleeding had stopped long ago, but the knuckles were thoroughly swollen. He couldn't move them very well. He must have broken at least one of his fingers, and maybe shattered a knuckle- or something. Will sighed, and turned over. He closed his eyes, thinking that it would only be for a moment, but soon he was asleep again.

Will wakes up in a cozy armchair to the sound of fire crackling in a fireplace to his left. He looks around. Bookshelves all along the wall to his right, a desk in front of him, a long comfortable looking leather sofa behind him, and a few more armchairs like this one all around him.
“Will?” Hannibal calls gently from the door leading from the office into the lounge. He has two glasses in his hands, filled half way with a golden liquid.
“Follow me to the lounge, if you would. I don't think we have to sit in the office tonight.”
The investigator stands up and follows behind the doctor. He still feels a little giddy and light, from the drink he'd been given earlier. He hadn't actually expected to be asked in at so late an hour.
“It's no trouble at all. Please come in...” He'd said, with a sort of a tired, but welcoming smile.
Will doesn't know Hannibal had had company earlier in the evening, or that the guests' dining experience had been a truly unique one. He really doesn't know very much as he steps into the lounge now and sits across from Hannibal, in another of the large leather sofas.
He takes the glass the doctor hands him and swirls it. It smells warm and sweet. Will has to give credit to Lecter's uncanny ability to know the exact drink for the mood of the evening. He doesn't idle long on why the mood tonight is warm and sweet.
“Now what is it you wanted to talk to me about, Will?” Hannibal's voice, soft and just a bit nasal interrupts Will's thoughts.
The investigator blinks. He can't seem to remember.
“I...” He starts to blush. “I'm sorry...I just can't seem to-”
Hannibal chuckles.
“You can't be getting senile already, Will. You're younger than I am.”
Will is flushed pink.
“Alright then. Why don't we just chat until you remember?”
Will doesn't know when he's been more grateful for Hannibal's patience and generosity.
He sips his drink and leans his head back as they talk about all sorts of things.
“Will, I've been thinking of leaving the country...”
The investigator remembers this conversation from the hospital.
“Really? Where will you go?” Will tries to hide a tone of disappointment.
“First I think I'll travel...but eventually, I'll settle in Florence.”
Will nods and smiles. “I guess I'll have to find another psychiatrist...”
Hannibal tilts his head, then decides to cross the small expanse between the couches he and Will had been sitting on. He chooses to sit beside Will, but watches him closely for signs of discomfort. Will doesn't flinch or try to move away.
“I hope that won't be necessary, Will”
Will frowns. “What do you mean?”
Hannibal smiles gently. “I want you to come with me.”
Will blinks. He suddenly remembers what he came here to talk to the doctor about.
-”But-the case, Jack, Molly-”
-”Leave it all, Will...This case is at a dead end, Jack is using you, and if you knew what the future holds...”
Will looks at Hannibal for a long moment, then his eyes widen.
“It's you..”
The investigator closes his eyes, previous memories making his body expect harsh pain, but instead he feels warm arms wrap around him and a soft voice whisper. “Such a clever boy...”
Will is confused.
“What will you do now, Will?” Hannibal holds him tighter.
The investigator chokes back a sob and buries hie head in Hannibal's chest.
“I don't know. This is the end...”
Lecter smiles against his neck.

“Oh no, Will...This is just the beginning...”

Oh crystal ball crystal ball save us all
Tell me life is beautiful
Mirror Mirror on the wall...

Will woke up with another tear-soaked pillow. Three times in one day. He sighed.

Will knew what night that dream had been mocking. That was the night he died. He hated how much he'd wanted it to end differently. Will always detested his inability to accept things the way they were. He didn't suspect Hannibal earlier, because he didn't want to believe he could be the killer. Now he was making alternate endings to his nightmares-and all of them led to Hannibal asking him to run away with him, escape the future. Will wondered what he would have said had Hannibal asked...

Will's stomach rumbled angrily. It was trying to dissuade him from the doctor and focus him on food. He hadn't eaten in over a day. The ex investigator groaned and pulled himself out of bed, then started downstairs again. It was still dark outside. IF he'd bothered to look at his clock, it would have read 3:30 am. He stumbled down the stairs in the dark, cradling his injured hand to his chest.
The kitchen was slightly brighter, lit by the back porch light. It was just enough for Will to find the kitchen light switch, and start again on a peanut butter sandwich. Toasting bread, spreading the peanut butter, squashing the two slices together, and finally settling down at the counter with a glass of milk. He ate slowly, savoring peanut butter and crispy toasted bread, as they calmed his raging stomach,
With his food polished off, a short time later, Will could hardly keep himself as distracted. He looked from his empty plat to the envelope on the counter...and took in a long breath.

Will pulled a piece of paper from a small box of stationary on the counter and grabbed a pen from the cup next to it. He pulled Hannibal's letter from its envelope and looked it over before he started to write.

“Hannibal,

Yes, Jack told me about your escape. But no, I haven't accepted any offers. He called me up to Maryland six days ago and I turned him down.
He said you cut your hand off to spare the only witness, the woman you were handcuffed to.
I don't understand that.
You asked me once, if I dream much. I didn't answer because I was afraid of what I would say. I've been afraid of so much for so long, I don't remember what it's like to not know fear.
Now that you're out, I know the end is coming. I'm not so afraid now.
Yes, I dream. Quite often. Memories of you mostly. Bethesda, your office, my house. You're in my thoughts as much as I'm in yours. You'll take that as a compliment, I'm sure....I can't help it.

You made me this way...

Will Graham


Oh crystal ball hear my song
I'm fading out
Everything I know is wrong...

Will folded the piece of stationary and slid it into a plain white envelope. He copied down the address onto the envelope, licked it closed, and stuck a stamp in the corner.

Will Graham walked out of his house and dropped the letter into the mail box.
It was 5:45 in the morning, an the ex special investigator felt like he was walking outside in the dawn of the last day of the world.

So put me where I belong...