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It was always cold Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Even in the depth of the summer months, the endlessly winding hallways seemed to have a chill to them. The only room with any form of warmth was Dr. Frederick Chilton’s office. Jack Crawford hated this place, not because of the coldness, but because of the monster it housed.
He tried to avoid coming if he could, sending Alana, or some rookie therapist, in his place. The Hospital reminded him of his failure to save countless lives from the man he once considered a friend. It also reminded him of the almost son he lost, Will Graham. For years, Jack had tried to look after him, trying to help him with his internal struggles. He had been so happy to see him grow close with Hannibal Lecter. Now, he wished the two had never met. Hannibal was Will’s undoing.
Initially, Hannibal had helped Will with his nightmares, making him more confidence, more relaxed. He had almost become somewhat normal. Then, he had ignited something deeper within Will, something primal, something dangerous. Hannibal had turned him into a murderer, a cannibal, the same kind of monster he was. They were finally equals in all senses. They had married shortly after Will’s first intentional kill.
Jack’s trip today was unavoidable. No matter how much he had despised what Hannibal had made of Will, he still cared about him enough to go to see the man himself. Jack wished he didn’t care, he truly wished he could put the two of them behind him and move on with his life but to get the closure he wanted, he had to see Hannibal himself. He had to tell him the news.
Throughout the winding hallways, Jack looked around at the patients as he passed them by. They all looked like they belonged here. Some were pulling on their hair, others screaming insults at him; one patient just stared into the wall opposite as if it would disappear before their eyes. It was unnerving for him to go from watching people like them to watching Hannibal in his cell. If Jack hadn’t known better, he would say that Hannibal looked as sane as he was.
“Jack Crawford,” Lecter stood, greeting his former colleague with a polite smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure of you company?”
Jack pursed his lips, having forgotten how formal he could be. “Don’t worry, it’s not a social call.”
Walking towards the clear glass of his cell, Hannibal softly laughed. “You were always so direct. Do you need my help, Jack? Need a psychological evaluation? I’ll even do it for free, I have no need for money in her after all.”
He shook his head, watching the former doctor intently. He knew how Hannibal Lecter worked. He was trying to get inside of his head, trying to control and manipulate him as he had done to countless of others. If it wasn’t so violating, Jack would say it was almost impressive. Almost.
“I have news.”
“It must be bad if you came yourself.”
“Will is dead.” The words felt strange to say out loud. It was the first time he had said it. Saying it made it real. Will Graham was dead.
For the first time since Jack arrived, Hannibal looked away from him and towards the floor. His shoulders slumped forwards as he processed what he had told. As Jack watched him, he failed to see the monster he had known him as for so long and instead, for the briefest moment, he saw something utterly human. But not even a few seconds had passed before something inside of him had snapped and he brought his gaze back to the agent before him.
“Did you think I would break, Jack? Did you think that coming here, confronting me after all of these years locked away, and telling me about my William dying, would break me?”
“I wanted to see if you care about him, or if you ever did.”
“I care about my love more than you will ever know, Jack.”
“No,” Jack said, beginning to walk away. After a few steps, he turned to look back at Hannibal for what he hoped would be the last time, “I don’t think you ever did. I don’t think you were ever capable of love.”
There was silence as Jack continued to walk away from him. When he reached the end of the corridor, he heard a loud crash, followed by a grief-ridden sob from the former doctor’s cell.