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Clarice’s god died in a mattress fire long ago, along with her father, hopes of a career, and that awful saying that used to ring through her head, “Daddy knows best.”
No amount of therapy or treatment from Dr. Lecter would bring god back to her. Papa Starling was easy enough to forget about; his short-sucked shotgun as quickly discarded as her love for the institution. The FBI proved to be less, if possible, of a obstacle, than her father. Starling could much more easily despise the workplace who despised her. Paul Krendler’s demise served as symbolism for the death of everything she used, key word used, to stand for.
Lecter had been impressed by Clarice’s unpredictability, and tried his best to keep it in the front of his mind. Unfortunately, sometimes he forgot.
The couple very recently discussed religion, as Hannibal wanted his wife to attend a mass with him at the Vatican. It ended in a fight. They did not speak for almost two days. More specifically, Clarice did not speak.
Silence can be defeaning.
Finally, dinner on the evening a day and a half after the argument forced the topic. The maids and house servants had gone to their respective quarters and homes for the evening, and Lecters sat alone, at opposite ends of the table.
“My dear, is it really necessary to prolong this conversation? I understand your beliefs.”
“Hannibal, seriously? How many people have you killed?” She stopped when he went to open his mouth, but quickly continued, louder. “Don’t answer that. And you still have the ignorance to believe in a higher power, one that knows your decisions before you make them? I have no doubt of your intelligence, Doctor, but this is common sense.”
“I believed we touched on this the first time we met, Clarice. If there is a God, which I maintain my opinion on, then he loves what we’re doing. Our behaviorisms reflect his own, good and evil, balanced and together. My opinion on what true evil is is just as skewed as yours, or anyone else.”
“Don’t pull this with me, Hannibal. I wasn’t even raised Catholic! It would be ridiculous to even consider me attending this. There’s just no reason for it.” She was out of her seat now, occasionally gesturing at herself or her partner.
“Honestly, Clarice, I never considered you to have such a fierce opposition to the divine. You’ve referred to me as ‘God’ before.”
Starling looked confused, her tongue grazing her upper lip in thought. Then a face of realization, and her face flushed red. Clarice’s lips were a tight line. Embarrassment.
“Hannibal….” she growled.
Lecter’s face remained impassive, but the edge of his lip turned upward a minute amount. He got her.
“Why, Clarice, do you choose not to believe something you’ve experienced everyday for years? You’ve seen people revert to their inherent states, and commit horrible atrocities. Can you honestly stand to say that no one is responsible for this? He is responsible for the Jame Gumbs and Evelda Drumgos in this world, no less is he responsible for you, and all the good in you. You’re still fighting a battle you can never win, even after your experience. Give it up, my dear. Whatever happens, He is up there, or down there, and he loves it.”
He moved to her, raising himself from his chair. Lecter would not touch his wife unless she initiated. He was a lot of things, but he was not an abuser.
Their food was long cold.
“You do, too,” she spat.
As he made his way across the dining room, Starling stepped closer to him. Despite his words, which were said with nothing but kindness and honesty, she was still annoyed.
“We’ll go,” she said. “But I don’t want to hear about it anymore. I get it, Hannibal, whatever is out there enjoys what you did and what I did, yet does nothing to intervene. Regardless, I’m with you. If it exists, you’re going to hell.”
A pause. He took little time to consider.
“And you’re coming with me.”
Clarice normally wouldn’t give in this easily, but she has truly missed him. She fought just a little as he moved to kiss her, but it was an act.
Despite their resolution, she was going to punish him later on for his tasteless reference.
She smiled to herself.
Whether it be tonight or even earlier.
No matter how much she missed and wanted him,
Hannibal Lecter was going to pay. Soon.