Chapter Text
Jack sipped the glass of wine, listening to the music playing. Classical, of course. He had gray spotting through his hair far more now, looking like a light had slipped from his life. That light was his wife, of course. The cancer had finished its dirty work and left him with the empty shell that was Bella's corpse. He had her buried, all friends and family at her side. His focus on work was fierce from there.
Forever searching for the one that got away. He watched Clarice Starling blossom into a star, one that he hoped would burn brighter than his. One that he hoped would streak across this black sky and land like a meteor to destroy whatever precious life that was the Chesapeake Ripper's hidden life, wherever that may be. Idle thoughts from a man that retired before he could complete that promised mission.
And here he stood, Italy, gazing at art with a warm smile because this was what Bella would have enjoyed. They had met here, in Italy. Fallen in love, become a couple others envied. Yes, it was a fond memory, to hear those other voices calling Bella, Bella! It brought a chuckle and a small head shake.
"I see you still hold a fondness for the land of your courtship."
Jack felt his heart drop. It became ice before it landed and he turned his head to the man who had come silently up beside him. Worse memories surfaced of pouring over those files, searching every lead, digging and digging and coming up with nothing and now, when he was retired...
"Dr. Lecter."
Hannibal had a few more wrinkles to his features. Crows feet near his eyes that crinkled when he smiled at Jack. His hair had lost some of that copper undertone, replaced with streaks of silver. And a beard, of all things. Neatly trimmed, well speckled with white. He looked his age yet ageless at the same time, just by his bearing alone. He carried himself with the same cool strength that he always had.
"Jack. It is good to see you. And here of all places." The man--the monster, really, continued to smile, turning his eyes back to the painting that Jack had stopped in front of. "I see you are fond of the Rape of Persephone. Do you know of the story, behind the imagery?"
Jack was sickened by how casually Hannibal spoke, as if they were simply friends truly catching up after so many years. He forced his eyes to turn and look upon the painting. He was hardly fond of it. The imagery was dark, cruel. It was irritatingly fitting for the situation now, he thought.
"I do. Hades came upon Persephone and found her so beautiful that he needed to have her. So he robbed her from her mother and forced her to be a captive. Held her as a slave until she finally broke. It seems rather similar to your own story, Dr, Lecter..."
Jack's voice carried a heavy note of ice. Hannibal seemed to barely notice it. He continues a humored smile as he sips his wine, shaking his head slightly. Jack found little humor in the situation, turning, so he could face the man more head on, snarling at him.
"What is the point of this? To gloat? That you are still free, after all the effort I put in to catching you?"
"Actually, I was hoping to extend my heartfelt condolences. I heard about your wife. A true gift was taken from this world, and I regret--"
"ENOUGH." Jack's voice rang, causing some attention but when his voice dropped so did the eyes of others. "I don't want to hear another word about my wife come from your lips. This is the life you regret? After every other life? Abigail Hobbs. Georgia Madchen, Donald Sutcliffe, Beverly Katz, Freddie Lounds, I could name them all if I could!"
There was tension there, a deeper hurt. One that reflected something else, a long lost regret. Guilt was there, trembling at his lips. Hannibal watched every note of emotion over the man's lips.
"Will Graham...?" The doctor offered after a moment.
"Will Graham." Jack said flatly. There was such a deep rage there, overwhelming shame. He understood when he found the crime scene the truth of everything. The state of the bed, obviously used for prolonged suffering. Blood. A butchering had happened. Will Graham was gone, Jack had known. Hannibal had feasted on his prize after twisting everything away from the man.
Hannibal had the audacity to smirk, looking back at the painting before tilting his head, indicating they should walk.
"Have you heard the true story behind Hades and Persephone, Jack?" He lifted the wine, so red, breathing it in before taking a sip. "Historically, the word 'rape' meant to steal. And in Grecian times, a man that wished to marry a woman would play at 'stealing' her from her rooms. Carrying her into the night, under the permission of the father. The god Zeus himself, in this matter... God blessed this union."
"Is there a point to this story?" Jack's voice was sharp, interrupting.
The man before him was unperturbed, smiling again with patience.
"Hades swept Persephone into the underworld, bringing winter upon the land. Of course, the mythology taught in schools focuses on the sadness of the mother Demeter... never making a glance to Persephone. You see, in reality, she became the queen of that dark place. More feared than her husband, so feared that her name soon was unspoken by those fearing her wrath. Hades, you could say.. elevated her. Gave her true meaning, showed her the true potential of herself."
Jack was older. Less sharp. Had he been younger, he thought, as a knife slipped into his femoral artery, eyes so wide. Blood coursed down his leg, hidden against the black of his slacks. He was sinking down, held up by a bit younger of a man, one with a clean shaven face and blue eyes that were like glaciers in a storm.
"You were right, Jack." The cool hand brushed the backs of fingers against Jack's face.
Jack stared at that face as it moved away from him, the world beginning to darken around the edges. Eyes were meeting his, but there was something missing from them, while at the same time....
Jack though he'd never seen Will look so confident, so... stable than in this moment. At least he could rest knowing that all those years of therapy paid off in the end.