[OOM] she's got that blindfold on

[collects_strays]

The privacy room has the same submerged feeling that permeates the rest of the hospital. There is more light – the large window is frosted glass, and sliced lengthwise by vertical blinds, but it's the closest thing to direct sunlight he's seen while in here. With the long gray patterns along the walls, like thin streams have dripped down the stone, it was like being just below surface of the water, looking up to the light that glints and splits itself into pieces with the current.

In this room, Graham is seated at a table. His hands are folded over it, his wrists in handcuffs connected by a long chain, which runs through a steel loop that's been bolted to the table's surface. If he moves one hand, the chain will click and tug at the other. It's worse than the cage, which at least affords him some illusion of separation. Restrained to the table, Graham can't move away, even if he wants to.

The wall and door facing into the main hall are transparent. Despite this, he doesn't watch it as he waits for his visitor. He looks to the rippled pattern along the wall across from him, even when he notices dark figures moving in the corner of his eye, and hears the buzzer as the door is unlocked.

Comments

[collects_strays]

"My end."

His voice is low. The light from the window reaches his eyes through the blinds, but he looks back down to the table.

"More or less."

[cook_the_rude]

"I can sincerely assure you," Dr. Lecter says, gravely, "nobody involved has he intention to end you. Perhaps not even Ms. Prurnell."

[collects_strays]

"She'd rather I be quiet about it," Graham mutters, still watching the table.

[cook_the_rude]

"You think she wants you to go quietly, you think?" Dr. Lecter says. "I think we shouldn't let her have that."

[collects_strays]

He raises his eyebrows, though he does't look up.

"Then I may go out loudly, and um - more quickly."

[cook_the_rude]

"Perhaps we should not allow her to make you go at all," Dr. Lecter says, as if musing about it.

[collects_strays]

Graham looks up to him, but with a flat expression that matches his voice.

"With my unconsciousness defense?"

It doesn't sound terribly grateful. But he has only so much energy for gratitude right now.

[cook_the_rude]

"That is generally considered your best defence," Dr. Lecter says. "But is it truth, or justice?"

[collects_strays]

He's quiet at first, as though he doesn't know how to answer. But when he does speak, it's only with a tremble of nervous anticipation. Nothing accusatory, not anymore.

"What would be justice for Abigail's killer?"

[cook_the_rude]

"That depends on whom you ask," Dr. Lecter says. "What do you feel would be just?"

[collects_strays]

"Truth and justice both look like strangers to me, now," he answers.

"I'm asking you, Dr. Lecter."

[cook_the_rude]

"I'm not looking for truth or justice, either for you or for Abigail," Dr. Lecter says. "But I quite like the symmetry of payback. It doesn't bring back those we miss, but it calms the nerves."

[collects_strays]

He leans in, just barely, as Dr. Lecter speaks. A slight enough move that it might be unconscious. At the end, Graham closes his eyes, and takes a few deep, unsteady breaths.

"I've been, um - having nightmares. Where I'm my own executioner."

He opens his eyes. "I wouldn't say my nerves are very calm yet."

[cook_the_rude]

"Maybe you need closure, Will," Dr. Lecter says, leaning towards him in a slight mirror movement.

[collects_strays]

Still unsteady, "How do I have closure about this?"

[cook_the_rude]

"I am sure you are grieving for Abigail as much as I am," Dr. Lecter says, quietly.

[collects_strays]

Graham looks down to his hands.

He doesn't speak, and otherwise doesn't move. One deep breath, and then slow and even again.

[cook_the_rude]

"Will," Dr. Lecter says, quietly.

[collects_strays]

His fingers curl against his palms.

"Yes," he murmurs, still not looking up.

[cook_the_rude]

"We will always miss her, Will," Dr. Lecter says.

[collects_strays]

not often tempered by mercy

Clearly.

Graham lifts his eyes. His voice is still shaky, and he takes a short, gasping breath after he speaks.

"I know."

[cook_the_rude]

"For all that, I am sincerely hoping that the trial will lead to something productive," Dr. Lecter says. "Truth, justice, revenge, closure, or simply your freedom."

He stands.

"I will be there, Will. And on your side."

[collects_strays]

He follows Dr. Lecter with his eyes. There;s a flicker of surprise in his face as Lecter stands, and he takes another, quick breath.

But he forces his composure, steadying himself and folding his hands over the table again. The chain follows this movement with a quiet clink.

He meets Dr. Lecter's eyes as he answers, quiet but earnest, "Thank you."

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter holds his gaze for a moment, then nods earnestly, and leaves.

[collects_strays]

As Dr. Lecter leaves, Graham leans forward, lowering his head to his folded hands. He doesn't move until the guard enters to return him to his cell.

By the time the cell door closes behind him, he's steady and still, dispelling the surface of jittery panic like pulling off a glove.