02x13 - Mizumono

[bunniefuu]

Previously on Hannibal...

We're just alike. This gives you the capacity to deceive me and be deceived by me.

Have you been f*ring a g*n?

I told you I was feeling paranoid.

All I want to do is catch him.

He's given me nothing.

I know what to expect from lung cancer. And there will be a time when there is nothing you can do.

No.

What are you up to?

I want you to come with me.

Alana Bloom isn't harbouring any doubts.

She's convinced that he m*rder*d Freddie Lounds.

How was my funeral?

We're gonna get caught.

Jack already suspects you k*lled Freddie Lounds.

That means he suspects you.

I know.

You should give him what he wants.

Give him the Chesapeake Ripper.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter requests the pleasure of my company for dinner.

You sit in that chair, Will, as you have so many times before.

It holds among its molecules the vibrations of all our conversations ever held in its presence.

All the exchanges, the petty irritations, deadly revelations, flat announcements of disaster.

The grunts and poetry of life.

Everything we've ever said.

Listen.

What do you hear?

(whispering voices)

A melody.

We're orchestrations of carbon.

You and me.

And Jack.

And Jack.

All our destinies flying and swimming in blood and emptiness.

Everybody's settling in for dinner.

I'm wearing a wire.

I have sharp sh**t on the roofs of neighbouring houses with lines of sight to all the windows.

He'll try to k*ll you in the kitchen. For convenience.

Make it easier to prepare the tartar.

Jack won't be easy to k*ll.

He'll be armed.

He's strong, well-trained.

We can't hesitate.

Hannibal thinks you are his man in the room.

I think you're mine.

When a fox hears a rabbit scream, he comes running.

But not to help.

When you hear Jack scream, why will you come running?

When the moment comes.

When the moment comes.

Will you do what needs to be done?

Oh yes.

See? See.

(haggard breathing)

Forgiveness is such a profound, conscious and unconscious state of affairs.

You can't actually choose to do it.

It simply happens to you.

Does forgiveness happen to you?

I d*ed.

I'm between deaths.

The punctuation at the end of a sentence gives meaning to every word, every space that preceded it.

They moved my punctuation mark, Dr. Lecter.

You moved my meaning.

(coughing)

I'm not here because I want to be here.

You saw to that.

I'm here...

Because I can't abandon Jack.

Not again.

Love and death are the great hinges on which all human sympathies turn.

What we do for ourselves dies with us.

What we do for others... That's beyond us.

You saved me for Jack.

Will you save him for me, when I'm gone?

Hmm.

I'm going to enjoy my resurrection.

Nothing sells better than a survival story.

I wouldn't count us as survivors just yet, Freddie.

Counting me as a survivor? I started as a cancer editor at a supermarket tabloid.

Cancer is very lucrative media.

Ain't that the truth?

"New Cures for Cancer,"

"Cancer Miracle Cure."

We're all desperate for a little hope.

I want to ask you to do something for me, Freddie.

Or rather, don't.

Don't write about Abigail.

You can write about me.

You can write about Hannibal.

But, leave Abigail alone.

You really don't know if you're going to survive him, do you?

Just let her rest in peace.

These are your notes on me.

So they are.

Don't your patients need these after you're gone?

The FBI will pore over my notes if I left them intact.

I will spare my patients the scrutiny.

I'm dismantling who I was and moving it brick by brick.

When we've gone from this life, Jack Crawford and the FBI behind us, I will always have this place.

In your memory palace?

My palace is vast, even by medieval standards.

The foyer is of Norman Chapel in Palermo.

Severe, beautiful and timeless.

With a single reminder of mortality.

A skull. Graven in the floor.

All I need is... A stream.

In those moments where you can't overcome your surroundings, you can make it all go away.

Put my head back, close my eyes, wade into the quiet of the stream.

If I'm ever apprehended, my memory palace will serve as more than a mnemonic system.

I will live there.

Could you be happy there?

All the palace chambers are not lovely, light and bright.

In the walls of our hearts and brains, danger waits.

There are holes in the floor of the mind.

In the few jerky seconds of sleep I do get, all I see is dark, swarming behind my eyelids.

I dream darkness comes into me.

It comes and it's insidious.

Up my nose into my ears.

I feel poisoned.

We've all been poisoned.

You saw what no one else could.

All it took was the, uh, traumatic.

We're still in the thick of it.

We're getting through the worst of it.

You've set some sort of trap and you're goading Hannibal into it.

How can you be sure he's not goading you?

I can't.

Do you know what an imago is, Will?

It's a flying insect.

It's the last stage of a transformation.

When you become who you will be?

It's also a term from the dead religion of psychoanalysis.

An imago is an image of a loved one, buried in the unconscious, carried with us all our lives.

An ideal.

The concept of an ideal...

I have a concept of you, just as you have a concept of me.

Neither of us ideal.

Both of us are too curious about too many things for any ideals.

Is it ideal that Jack die?

It's necessary.

What happens to Jack has been preordained.

We could disappear now.

Tonight.

Feed your dogs, leave a note for Alana and never see her or Jack again.

Almost polite.

Then this would be our last supper.

Of this life.

We'll serve lamb.

Sacrificial.

I don't need a sacrifice, do you?

I need him to know.

If I confess to Jack Crawford right now...

I would forgive you.

If Jack were to tell you all is forgiven, would you accept his forgiveness?

Jack isn't offering forgiveness.

He wants... Justice.

He wants to see you, see who you are.

See what I've become.

He wants the truth.

To the truth, then.

And all its consequences.

This is entrapment, Jack.

You can't entrap someone into committing premeditated m*rder.

Yes, you can. You're doing it.

You conspired to violate Dr. Lecter's property and personal rights. And for the record, the only one involved in this investigation we can confirm actually having k*lled someone is Will Graham.

It was self defense.

Hannibal Lecter is being induced to commit m*rder by an undercover FBI informant.

This is outrageous government conduct.

You would never get a conviction.

You're not thinking clearly, Jack.

We are as close as we are ever going to get to catching this man.

I understand that your wife is very ill.

You're distracted. After an inquiry, I'm putting you on forced compassionate leave.

This is just staggering.

What are you going to do about Hannibal Lecter?

What Jack should have done.

We've frozen his passport and we're getting a search warrant.

Hannibal already opened his doors to the FBI, there won't be physical evidence.

The only way to catch him is in the act.

Are you saying we should have just let Jack hang himself?

And everyone else in his department?

No. But Will and Jack are still your best chance to catch Hannibal.

This man that Will Graham k*lled in self defense...

He was mutilated. At a certain point, self defense stops. Will Graham didn't stop.

Jack Crawford sanctioned this and then he hid it from us.

I have to believe that Will was trying to maintain his cover identity.

Reality doesn't go away because you stop believing in it.

It's stubborn like that. The reality of this situation is Jack Crawford misused the power of his office.

Mrs. Prurnell, they are desperate.

They are breaking the law.

I'm bringing these men up on charges.

They're not going to stop.

That's why they're being brought into custody.

Jack knows what you'll find.

He knows what you have to do.

That won't stop him from doing what he has to do.

(phone ringing)

Hello?

It's Alana. Is Jack with you?

No, why?

They've issued a warrant for your arrest, Will.

For acting as an accessory to entrapment.

(dogs barking)

And for the m*rder of Randall Tier.

They're going to arrest Jack as well.

Will?

Goodbye, Alana.

(phone rings)

Hello?

They know.

Hello, Jack. You're early.

I couldn't wait to get here.

Would you care to sous-chef?

I want to thank you for your friendship, Hannibal.

The most beautiful quality of a true friendship is to understand them.

Be understood with absolute clarity.

And this is...

The clearest moment of our friendship.

I'd like to report g*nshots.

Hannibal.

Hannibal!

Where's Jack?

In the pantry.

I was hoping you and I wouldn't have to say goodbye.

Nothing seen nor said.

You may have found that rude.

Stop!

I was so blind.

In your defense, I worked very hard to blind you.

You can stay blind.

You can hide from this.

Walk away, I'll make no plans to call on you.

But if you stay, I will k*ll you.

Be blind, Alana. Don't be brave.

(clicks)

I took your b*ll*ts.

(Alana whimpering)

I found more b*ll*ts!

Abigail?

I'm so sorry.

(medieval music)

This is Will Graham, I need ERT at 5 Chandel Square.

Jack is inside.

Go.

(choking sounds)

Abigail?

I didn't know what else to do, so...

I just did what he told me.

Where is he?

You were supposed... To leave.

We couldn't leave without you.

Ah!

Time did reverse.

The teacup that I shattered did come together.

The place was made for Abigail and your world.

Do you understand?

The place was made for all of us, together.

I wanted to surprise you.

And you...

You wanted to surprise me.

(sputtering)

I let you know me.

See me.

I gave you a rare gift.

But you didn't want it.

Damn right.

You would deny me my life.

N... no. No.

Not your life, no.

My freedom then, you would take that from me.

Confine me to a prison cell.

Do you believe you could change me, the way I've changed you?

I already did.

Fate and circumstance have returned us to this moment when the teacup shatters.

I forgive you, Will.

Will you forgive me?

Don't, don't...

No. No.

Abigail, come to me.

No, no, no!

You can make it all go away.

Put your head back.

Close your eyes.

Wade into the quiet of the stream.

Hello? Jack.