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A bowl of peanut M&M’s in Chilton’s office is what did it. She grabbed a handful as she made her way down the the dungeon, only beginning to snack on them once she had walked down the hallway.
Clarice Starling had never been allergic to nuts. She remembered her daddy helping her crack the shells off of peanuts as they sat in the kitchen. Peanuts were for good times. Ironically enough, she hadn’t had them in years. She hadn’t had that many good times in years.
Finally, standing outside of Dr. Lecter’s cell, she ate an M&M. They were pretty good, considering she hadn’t had lunch yet. Lecter was drawing, and she didn’t want to interrupt an artist at work. He didn’t look up from his sketch, but enjoyed the sight of her eating in his peripheral vision. A strand of her brown hair fell into her eyes. She had been outside, perhaps, because it had lightened just a tad. If he didn’t know Clarice, he would’ve thought she had gotten highlights. She continued munching on the candy.
Finally looking up from the butcher paper, his drawing complete (it was of her, of course), he greeted her.
“Good afternoon, Clarice. How are you?”
The agent opened her mouth to respond, parting her lips in some sort of smile. He liked it.
“I’m fine, uh,” her voice caught. She started coughing. “Doct-”
Starling wobbled a little bit.
The colored candies fell, one by one, out of her hands. Each of them shattered individually on the prison floor, cracks spreading through their exterior as they exploded onto the ground. Then Agent Starling herself collapsed to the floor.
She was fully conscious, it seemed, she just preferred to keep her eyes closed. Her face puffed a few centimeters and she could no longer speak.
Hannibal caught himself yelling her name. He almost fell himself, seeing her like that.
Finally, his screaming got the orderly’s attention. “Barney,” his calm self was replaced with a frantic version. The girl was so close to catching Buffalo Bill, and Lecter had grown fond of her, quite honestly. His hands were through the bars, reaching out. If he realized a net still blocked his view of Clarice, he did not show it.
Now he was kneeling, yelling instructions at Barney. Sure, the man was qualified as a nurse, but he had not half the medical experience Lecter did. Hannibal continued to bark orders at the man, who quite obviously had grown tired.
Matthews had not only an FBI agent in anaphylactic shock, but a screaming cannibal. He had never seen the prisoner so loud, so frightened.
Elevate her head, Barney. She doesn’t have an Epipen. She didn’t know she was allergic. The M&M’s crunched under the orderly’s feet as he moved around the girl. Barney, please. Let me help her. I could do it. I won’t hurt her, I promise. I’ll put on the mask, or something. Anything. You need to open up her airway. Hannibal nearly pulled the chiseled pen tube out of his mouth, before chastising himself. An emergency tracheotomy wouldn’t do anything above the larynx.
“Doctor Lecter, I will be fired faster than I can even get your cell open if I choose to let you out. I’m calling an ambulance.”
Hannibal was on the ground now, talking to the girl. You’re doing fine, Clarice. You look good. He wanted nothing more but to break out of his cage, more so than he had ever had before.
Barney was gone now, calling down the hospital nurse, the one with both of her eyes, until an ambulance arrived.
Still, Lecter spoke. Clarice, you’re going to make it through this. Can you hear me? A “uh” served as a reply. That was good enough. Listen, Agent Starling, think of something good.
Peanuts were her first thought. Peanuts were good, until today.
You’ve thought of it? Good? You see now, Clarice, we’re there. I don’t know where we are, but I’m with you. You are okay. As long as you listen to me closely, you’ll be okay. Just a little bit longer, Clarice. I want to help you. A shake of her swollen head. “Nuuh uhh, nuuh uh.” I’m not going to leave you here, Clarice. Where are we?
In the kitchen, her daddy smiled at her. She smiled back. Lecter was sitting on a stool next to her. He was dressed casually, not in a prison outfit. She was scared at first, but Hannibal nodded his head. The corners of his lips were upturned. He wasn’t gonna hurt her. He was here to help. A hand placed on her shoulder warmed her. It was so damn cold in the kitchen, she thought. Really cold wherever she was.
Clarice, the good doctor said, I’m here with you. Are you cold? He saw her shiver and decided to play along. It was the best thing for her. I’ll turn up the heat where we are. Can you feel how much warmer it is?
Hannibal moved from the bar stool to her. He wrapped his arms around her. Yes, it was warmer now.
The nurse ran downstairs, needles in tow, as an ambulance worker wheeled her out on a gurney. She looked peaceful, despite what had happened.
Clarice woke up in the nearest hospital, the warmth of Doctor Lecter’s arms replaced with the artificial comfort of a hospital blanket. An IV ran from her arm to a machine. She was alone.
Hannibal remained on the floor long after Clarice was gone. He was alone, too, left with the chocolate shards of candy shells, broken, scattered across the freezing ground. They wouldn’t come back together. He prayed to any god who would listen that his Clarice would.