Parked in front of the FBI building after a long and straining work shift, Clarice was contemplating the end of her career as an FBI agent. But she couldn't figure out if it would be a relief or a regret if she decided to actually quit her job. For so many years she's done her best to please the Bureau and for what? All she ever gets is grief from her coworkers and not to mention all the crummy assignments she gets stuck with. Sure there would be people saying they wished she'd reconsider, but she knows, deep down inside, they'd be glad to get her out of the way.
Clarice had her eyes closed as she thought, and didn't seem at all startled when she heard the click of the passenger door open. She kept her head back on the seat and opened her eyes slightly. Dr. Lecter had entered her car. He was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. He removed the cap and glasses as he got in. No one was around to see in the car.
"Hello, Clarice" he said ever so lightly.
"Hello, Doctor" she responded, closing her eyes again. She thought about how every time, for the past few years, Dr. Lecter always seemed to show up when Clarice was in need of emotional support. She could never forget all the times he's appeared, almost out of nowhere, just to give her a few words of encouragement before disappearing just as quickly.
"I sense that you're troubled, Clarice. Care to talk about it?" His own head resting back against the seat in an attempt to make common ground.
"Dr. Lecter....I'm going to leave the Bureau. I'm gonna quit my job." She lifted her head to look at him, but resumed her original position when she realized he wasn't looking at her.
"Why such a plan, Clarice?" Although he knew the reason already. He felt it would help her if she talked about it.
"Because I've tried so hard to be the best I can at this job, but nothing ever seems to be good enough. I've seen people come in here after me and get promoted for doing far less than I have. I've tried being patient. I've given them the benefit of the doubt. I've done some pretty important things in my career as an FBI agent, but I always get tossed aside. Until they need someone to do their dirty work for them. And I do it. I take all those impossible assignments and I make them possible. I risk my life every day and in return....I get nothing."
Her eyes were now focused on a tree outside the car. A tree which had been transplanted there several years ago and was still young, but weathered. It wasn't as tall as the others around it, but it provided shade, and protection for the smaller things beneath it. It stood up to the sun, and the rain, doing it's best to protect. A tree not unlike Starling. Her eyes drifting from the tree to her lap where her gun and handcuffs were fastened to the side of her hip. Back to the tree. A tree doesn't have a gun or handcuffs. She felt she had an advantage.
Lecter sensed her attention had shifted outside the car, and the silence that fell inside it. He looked at her. "Clarice, do you think there's a way you could ever please them? If there was a way, no matter what is was, would it be important to you to save your job?"
A long pause before answering, "I don't know Dr. Lecter. I just don't know. The only way I can think of, is if I walked through that front door with you as my prisoner. Maybe then I'd get some respect, finally. But I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of having you."
"Do you like your job, Clarice? Aside from the obvious" he asked, as he closed his eyes again.
"Yes. It's all I have. It's all I know." Her eyes went from the tree to the ringing cellphone, sitting on the dashboard of her car.
It was one of her coworkers, Dave Pirkle. He had to talk to Starling about something. "I'll be right back, Doctor. Will you still be here?"
"Yes" was all he said, his eyes still closed and his head still resting on the back of the seat.
Minutes later, Clarice returned to her car. Dr. Lecter was still there, as he said he would be.
"More problems?" he asked as he lifted his head to look at her.
"Do you have to ask? Apparently I have a new assignment as of tomorrow. I get to do surveillance on a possible drug house. It's not official yet, but Dave overheard the chatter about it and felt the need to break the news to me. Or rub it in my face, whichever you prefer." Her attention went back to the weathered tree. So few branches. Will I ever branch out? she thought to herself.
"Clarice?" Dr. Lecter shifted in his seat to face her, his back nearly turned to the passenger window.
"Yes Doctor?" Her eyes still fixed on the tree. She felt his hand on her leg. His breath on the back of her neck. She thought that she should look at him, or say something in response, but she had no control. She kept her attention on the tree. Branches of other trees brushing against it, like Dr. Lecter's hand on her leg. Watched it as it swayed in the wind. Like Dr. Lecter's breath on her neck.
"Are you that tree, Clarice?" he said as he rested his hand on the upper part of her leg.
"Yes. It seems that way. It's so young, but it protects the rest of the trees and flowers. It's trying to branch out. To grow into something bigger. Something more. All the while, the other trees constantly look down on it. It just doesn't fit in."
"What would make that tree grow, Clarice?" He wondered if she minded his hand on her leg. No. She would have mentioned it. She was too upset to care, either way. "What would make that tree fit in?"
"Getting it's roots into the ground. Being accepted for what it is. Not being discriminated against because it came from somewhere else. Becoming large and being looked up to for it's strength and wiseness." She looked down for a moment. Down at the hand that so many people would find appalling. She felt comfort in it. Knowing that this man cared for her. That he was always there when she needed a shoulder to cry on. Though she never actually cried in his presence. Emotions coming. Back to the tree.
Dr. Lecter allowed his hand to make it's way slowly up to Clarice's hip. He ran his hand over her gun. Usually Clarice would have reacted to someone touching her weapon, but it didn't much matter anymore. And she trusted him more than anyone else she'd known. His hand rested on her cuffs. She felt a tug at her side. The sound of links rattling. And then two snaps.
She turned to see Lecter with his arms outstretched to her, his hands fisted, turned upright, cuffed at the wrists. He looked into her eyes, and with the most surrendering voice, he said, in almost a whisper, "Get you roots into the ground, Clarice."
"Dr. Lect--" she started.
"I'm giving myself to you, Clarice. I want you to turn me in to the FBI. I'm offering you your sunshine. To help you grow. Let's go." He waited for her to object. He knew she would.
"Dr. Lecter, I can't turn you in. We both know what will happen to you." Her voice was shaky, like the leaves on the tree fluttering in the breeze.
"Let us not speak of that, Clarice. Just do what you were born to do. What you've waited for all these years. Let's go."
"I can't--" She was cut off when Lecter raised a finger and pressed it against her lips. He wanted to kiss her, but knew it would only make it harder for both of them.
"Let's....go" he said again, in a more serious voice. Clarice knew that was all that would be said. She didn't try to speak again.
After staring into each other's eyes for a moment, Lecter nodded his head towards the passenger door. "Come open my door for me."
Clarice looked away from Lecter's eyes. Looked over to the tree. Back to Lecter's eyes. He was waiting for her to open his door. She got out and went to the other side of the car, pausing a moment to take a deep breath.
"No time for hesitation, Clarice. The sooner you turn me in, the sooner it will all be over." He got out of the car. Clarice shut the door behind him. She wanted to tell him that she couldn't go through with it, but she knew he wouldn't listen.
As they walked through the maze of cars in the large parking lot, they were the only ones there. It almost seemed like a ghost town. There was a meeting going on in one of the buildings. A meeting that she wasn't required to attend. Most of the cars belonged to those people. The silence seemed to bounce off each car as she walked behind Dr. Lecter.
"Draw your gun, Clarice. We want this to look as real as possible." He knew no one was watching them, but it would look strange if someone were to pass them and see that her gun was still in its holster. Clarice drew her gun, pointed it at him, but kept her finger far from the trigger.
"How will I say I caught you, Doctor?" she inquired.
"Tell them I was following you. I had been watching you as you left the building. You caught a glimpse of me in a car window as you walked to your own car. You stood behind the tall cap of a parked truck, waiting for me. When I approached the truck, there you were. I found a gun pointed at me, and I had no hope of escaping a bullet, so I surrendered quietly. Which, in fact, I did do. So, it isn't a complete lie. That should ease your conscience a little."
They were near the building's entrance. Still no sign of anyone nearby. Thank God she thought. A small pause before going up the steps to the building, "Let's go, Clarice" Lecter said, not turning back. She continued leading him. Following him against her will.
There was a guard at the front desk as they entered the main lobby. He stood up and drew his gun fast. "No!" Clarice shouted, holding out the hand, that wasn't gripping the gun, in a 'stop' motion. "Put the gun away! I have this under control."
The guard hesitantly put his gun back into the holster at his side and stood ready to draw it again if necessary. "Do you want me to call for backup?" he asked her, as he reached for the phone.
"No. I'm taking him upstairs and turning him over to the big boys. I can handle it. It's just a few floors" Clarice said as she lead Lecter into the elevator. They got in and the door shut. The guard still watching in disbelief.
Second floor. Third floor. Fourth floor. Stop! Clarice had pressed the button that froze the elevator between floors four and five.
"Clarice, people will wonder why the elevator has stopped" Lecter said as he casually leaned back against the wall.
"Then let them wonder. I'll just say there was a scuffle. Doctor, I really don't wanna do this to you." She was facing him, looking into his eyes and saw that his mind would not change. "Please don't make me do this, Dr. Lecter.
"It's too late to turn back, Clarice. And besides, even if it weren't, I wouldn't let you. It was meant to be this way. You were meant to capture me. You're the only one worthy of doing so." He took a step towards her and stood inches away from her body.
She looked away from his eyes, "I don't understand, Doctor. You avoided being captured all this time, and you value your freedom, yet you want me to capture you now, just to advance in my job. A job you hate just as much as I do. Why are you doing this?"
"Because you've spent a great deal of your life trying to figure me out, Clarice. Trying to catch me. You've come so close on so many occasions. But coming close doesn't get you any positive recognition. It never will. I can avoid being caught for the rest of my life, but my life would be meaningless to me if it meant knowing you were unhappy with your own. I don't want to be somewhere far away, thinking about how you've given up your job, your ambitions, just because you can't ever advance. I'm letting you trade me for an advancement, Clarice. I won't have it any other way. And I must say, it's an honour that you were the one who caught me." He winked.
"I'll visit you as much as they'll let me, Doctor" she said as she put her gun in it's holster and put her arms around him.
"No, Clarice. I don't wish for you to see me locked up again. I'd rather you were left with the memory of me as a free man. Appearing when you least expected it. When I was allowed to move about the world as I pleased. This will be our last meeting together.
He cupped her face in his hands which were still cuffed. Cuffed with her handcuffs. Cuffed by him.
"Doct--" his name muffed as he kissed her gently. She kissed him back with the same ease.
The kiss seemed to last for several minutes until he pulled away. "Let's go" he said, as he had so many times before, "Draw your gun." He pressed the button and the elevator resumed it course. Clarice drew her gun and couldn't help but think of Dr. Lecter's fate. She knew what would happen to him, and she choked back a tear. She thought about stopping the elevator and just running away. Never looking back. At least then she would have the hope of him getting away. She hated the thought of those jerks upstairs getting their hands on Lecter. Wished there were another way.
The elevator stopped. The door opened. There was a long hallway that led to the main room where the big shots were found. No one was in the hall at the moment. She stepped off the elevator with Dr. Lecter. He turned to her. "Clarice, they'll be quite viscous in there, you know that."
"I know, Doctor." She stood watching him as he thought.
"Perhaps....we could save both of us some hassle. Save them from the chance to get their hands on me. I'd hate for you to witness something like that, if it weren't necessary." He was going over a plan in his mind. Clarice could sense it.
"What do you have in mind, Doctor?" She found it impossible to think of any alternatives at this point.
Dr. Lecter took a moment to gather his thoughts. "If I were to, say, escape your custody, you would be obligated to make sure I don't reach the building's exit. Am I right?"
She didn't like where this was going. "That's correct." The barrel of her gun was pointed down at the ground now.
"Mind your gun, Clarice" he said as he reached down and lifted her hand and the gun so that it was aimed at him again.
"What are you getting at, Doctor?"
"If I should start running towards the elevator, and you called out for me to stop, and I didn't....you'd be obligated to shoot me, wouldn't you?" He saw the painful look on her face.
"Yes, Doctor. I would be obligated to shoot you if you failed to acknowledge my instructions to stop." It had been hard for her to say, but she knew he wanted her to cooperate.
He felt her pain. Felt how torn up she must been felt inside. "It would save a lot of grief, Clarice. You'd never see me again anyway. And this way, the Bureau doesn't get to have their fun with me before my untimely death. But you get all the credit for catching me. This is the best way, Clarice. You know that."
Clarice didn't say a word. There was nothing she could say to change his mind once it was made up. Dr. Lecter reached down for her free hand and gave it a firm squeeze. He smiled at her, as if nothing else mattered in the world. Nothing else but that final glance into her eyes. Clarice watched as he turned away from her and slowly walked back to the elevator. He pressed the button, and waited for the door to open. When it did, he stood, looking down at the floor of the elevator. Waiting.
"Dr. Lecter. Don't get on that elevator." No response. "I'll shoot Dr. Lecter. Step away from the elevator. You have five seconds." Still no response. She didn't expect one. They were playing a game now. She had to play along. "One, Dr. Lecter."
Lecter remained still. Didn't want to face Clarice, for fear that she'd back down and refuse to shoot him.
"Two."
Clarice wondered what would happen if someone came around the corner and witnessed this. Would she be able to shoot faster than Lecter would have to pretend to escape?
"Three, Doctor."
He thought of the times he spent with her in the dungeon. Gathering her darkest secrets into his mind. Never letting them go.
"Four."
She recalled all the things he put her through. All the things he made her tell him. How mad she was at him all those times. But how she knew now, he was only helping her discover herself. She placed her finger on the trigger for the first time while pointing it at him. She felt sick.
"Five, Hannibal."
He closed his eyes tightly, savoring the sight of the kiss they shared only minutes ago, in the elevator he was about to fall into. He turned his back to her. Thought of the times he came to her rescue, to comfort her when she needed a friend. And how he left so quickly afterwards. Heard the shot. Always leaving her. The pain piercing his back. The bullet going through his heart. Leaving her again. For good.
Clarice stood with her gun aimed at him. Watched him fall and hit the ground. His upper body keeping the elevator sensors from letting the door close. Several people ran up the hall from behind her.
"What happened here, Starling?" one asked as the others ran to Dr. Lecter's side.
"I shot him. I shot Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I captured him, and I was bringing him up here. He tried to run, and I told him to stop. He didn't listen. And I shot him." She still had her gun aimed at him. The man next to her pushed it down to aim at the ground.
"You brought him up here yourself, Starling" he asked her, with a displeased tone of voice. She nodded.
One of the other guys next to Lecter's body stood and announced, "He's dead."
Clarice felt her emotions boiling inside her. What have I done? she thought.
The man next to her was annoyed, and he showed it. "Starling, we wanted this bastard alive! What were you thinking handling this on your own?"
Clarice shook the thoughts from her head. Realized she was back in the elevator with Dr. Lecter. Glad that's not how things happened. The elevator stopped, and the door opened. Clarice and Dr. Lecter stepped out. No sooner than they did, three guys in suits came running towards them. They grabbed Lecter and got him to the ground. "Call for backup!" one of the men shouted as he jammed his knee into Lecter's back.
Clarice said nothing. She couldn't show her true feelings. She watched as more men came and piled on top of Dr. Lecter. He didn't struggle at all. Didn't try to get them off of him. Some of the men accidentally kicked him in the sides. Clarice knew it wasn't an accident. They took turns calling him names. Taunting him. One of them even asked Clarice if she wanted to get in a good kick. She shook her head. Dr. Lecter never looked at her.
Eventually, more men came with restraints. They dragged Lecter off into the elevator. They wouldn't let Clarice go with them in the same one. Too dangerous. Lecter looked up as the doors were closing. Looked into her eyes. Smiled through the mask he now wore, once again. He winked at her, and then he was gone.
Clarice ran to the other elevator and frantically pressed the button a dozen times before the cart finally came up. She got in. It seemed like it took forever to get to the main floor. She rushed off the elevator and ran out the front door in time to see the men shoving Lecter into a restraint truck. While they were putting him in, he knew she was there, but he didn't look at her. It would make it worse. She watched them drive away. And she never saw him again.
While sitting in his cell, Dr. Lecter was bruised from head to toe. It seemed like every guard had had a chance to inflict some damage to him. They'd make sure he was completely restrained and then they'd take turns punching him, kicking him, spitting on him, and more. Several times, Dr. Lecter saw a way to get around the restraints, but he never acted on it. Not this time. Not anymore. He waited patiently for the day of his death. It came quite fast. He was on the top of the list. No doubt he was moved up to the top by some very persuasive people.
Clarice had made many attempts to visit Dr. Lecter, but she was denied access. Even thought he was on Death Row, he had the right to refuse visitors, and he did just that. She wasn't even allowed to have a note delivered to him, or a simple message by word of mouth. But she never stopped trying. She tried every day he was in there.
She could have watched the lethal injection process when the day came for it, but she knew he wouldn't want her there. And he didn't. But he couldn't help but think of her during those last few conscience moments. He pictured her being an important figure at the Bureau. Being able to make the calls and have people listen to her for once. No more being stepped on. As the needle entered his arm, he smiled. He could see Clarice at her big desk, in her big office. Looking out the window at the tree that had now grown so tall, and so strong. He could see her smiling back at him. And that was the last thing he saw, before total darkness.
Two weeks after Dr. Lecter's death, Clarice had arrived back at work after a short vacation to settle down from the hectic press interruptions and fuss at the Bureau. She had been promoted not long after taking the credit for capturing him. People at the Bureau did indeed look up to her now. She was good. Good at her job, and good at her success. She sat in her car and reflected over the whole thing. It had taken a sacrifice of Dr. Lecter's own life to get her where she was today. All those years she had tried on her own, but it was he who finally got her where she longed to be. Where she belonged. She owed it all to him. Although she couldn't help but feel guilty about it all. He had been free. Free to travel and to be away from that awful cage in the dungeon. And she let him talk her into turning him in. What have I done?
Why had she always hoped to accomplish that, but when the time came, she regretted it? Was it because she didn't really do it on her own? Because she needed his help or she would have never achieved such success? She looked down and shed a few rare tears. She let them fall. She leaned forward and rested her head on the steering wheel, watching the tears as they fell to the floor of the car. One hit her shoe and rolled off the side of her foot. While following it with her eyes, she noticed a piece of paper sticking out from under the carpet of the floor.
She wiped away the tears and leaned down for a closer look. There was a small tear in the carpeting on the floor. She pulled on the piece of paper. Out of the tear in the carpet came a small folded note. She unfolded it. It was from Dr. Lecter:
Dear Clarice,
I know by the time you find this note (which I wrote and planted during our chat in the car that day while you were tending to your phone call), you will have had your promotion. I can only hope. But I have no doubts that you have. I also am sure that you're consumed with your own guilt. I want to assure you that you have done the right thing. You tracked me for so many years, Clarice, and you did such a good job doing it. No one else could have done better. You always wanted to catch me, didn't you, Clarice? Yes, you always did. And when the chance presented itself, you realized that you really didn't want to go through with it. Why is that, do you think? I'll tell you why. Because you know that underneath all the horrors of a person, lies an innocence. And you were the only one to see my innocence, Clarice. And you understood it. You know me better than you think you do. You knew that while I could hurt so many people, I could never hurt you. You knew that when you needed me, I was there for you. You knew that, even though I teased you about things, I was always sincere with your problems. You knew I cared. And I still do. As I always will. So this guilt that you feel, isn't for what others perceived me as, but for the innocence you saw within me. It was not until that realization, that you knew you couldn't turn me in on your own. I've always been there to help you, Clarice, and this time was no different from the others. You needed my help, and before I could leave you again, I had to be sure to give you that help. If I could come back from wherever it is I am, I would be there in an instant, should you need further assistance. So you see, Clarice, it was my job to make you turn me in. It was the only way I could stop you from throwing away your precious career. A career that you belong in. You now have the voice to make things right, Clarice. You can change things in the Bureau. You can branch out and be the best now. You've earned it. You are guilty of nothing, Clarice. When I couldn't reach you right away to offer my helping hand, did you not sense me there with you, even though you couldn't see me? When I was in another country, and nowhere near you, did you not feel my eyes watching you from around every corner? Just like those times, I'm far from you, Clarice, but I'm still with you. I'll never be gone. I'll always watch over you.
Clarice held the letter against her chest and leaned back in her seat. She began crying again. She wondered what he meant by "I mean it." Did he mean I've earned the right to branch out and be the best? That I'm guilty of nothing? That he's always with me? Or that his love is mine forever? It was trivial, but she needed to know. Through the tears, she looked down and saw something on the back of the note:
Oh, and Clarice....I meant all of the above.
Clarice felt an overwhelming feeling inside. He wasn't physically with her anymore, yet he still knows what to say to her when she needs to hear it. She wiped the tears from her face, folded the note and stuck it into her purse. She got out of her car. She walked to the front of the building. The press had given up by now. She stood at the doors. Took a deep breath. Felt strength from the hidden corners of the building. Felt Dr. Lecter's presence. She abandoned all doubts of her new job position. She was ready now.
She put her hand on her purse as if to draw more strength from the note instead. A smile came across her face. "Let's go" she said, and she entered the building with her head held high.
The End.