The Ripper's Love

escape

Jack froze in fear, which you used to your advantage. You begin to walk towards him, the knife on the counter looking like it would sit snuggly in your palm.

Just as you grabbed the knife, Hannibal stopped you short, grabbing your wrist.

"I think we can all agree that we do care for Jack," Hannibal says, his scalpel in hand.

You wonder what this has to do with what is going on at the moment, but wait for him to finish his sentence. "Can we agree that if Jack leaves, and doesn't tell anyone, that we can let this go?"

You wonder where this came from, and how Hannibal plans on keeping Jack from telling.

You nod nevertheless, looking over to Will as he agrees.

Jack is still frozen, but you watch as his face turns to anger and determination. He quickly reaches for his gun, holstered on his side.

You quickly wind back your arm, not registering Hannibal.

"Oh Jack, I do wish you hadn't done that," Hannibal says. You didn't see it coming before the knife landed in Jack's shoulder.

He screamed out, falling down as his gun clattered to the ground on the other side of the counter. He was behind the counter, and you didn't saying anything before Hannibal turned to you.

"I know you want to save him. I'll just incapacitate him until we can leave."

You nod, thankful at Hannibal's kindness.

You whip your head around as Jack struggles to get up, crawling from out behind the counter.

Hannibal didn't say anything, just walked over to him, kicking him to the ground. You flinched away as you heard Jack hiss in pain.

"I promise you'll be fine. I really do admire you Jack."

You heard the hit, and knew that Hannibal had kicked him in the head.

Before your mind can begin to worry about everything, Hannibal comes behind you.

"Can you pack? We're going to have to leave the country fairly quickly." You nod, knowing that he asked you to pack because of what he and Will were going to have to do. Making sure that Jack didn't get out too quickly didn't seem like something you wanted to do right now.

You hurry up the steps, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You pull out suitcases, putting everything you think you could possibly need in it.

***

You look out of the small window, the ocean blurring under you, sun bright. You look at the other side of you, smiling down at Will.

His head rested on your shoulder, his chest rising and falling slowly. You run a hand through his curls softly.

Hannibal sits on the other side of Will, a worn book in hand, clearly enveloped in the story.

You had packed, slept fitfully, and left early the next morning. Your suitcases in hand, new identity in your pocket, you boarded the plane.

Hannibal had somehow managed to get plane tickets to Italy, and get completely new identities, passports, and identifications in less than a day.

You think about it, in awe of him, and of how amazing both he and the man laying on your shoulder were.

You feel a wave of tiredness wash over you, and you lean your head back against the head rest.

You close your eyes, heart oddly full and happy.