| 001 | v i d e o |

[thehobbsgirl]

[ Abigail tries to do the smart thing and figure out the situation on her own. She does her best: reads the weird pamphlet three times, glances through the first few videos she finds on the smart-phone-like device, wanders around the grounds trying to look for a way out. Obviously, she does not find one. None of it makes any sense. She sits in the gardens for a few hours waiting to wake up, but if there is one thing her nightmares never are, it's tedious. So with boredom comes fear; if this isn't a dream, it means her life had changed radically yet again without warning. It means that just as she was beginning to have hope for some kind of stability, she was thrown into another mess. ]

[ The video shows her visibly upset, though clearly trying to master it. Her voice is small, and shaky with suppressed emotion, but she gets out what she means to say: ]

I'm not gonna bother asking a bunch of questions when it's obvious there's no one here who can help me.

[ Not to mention the fact that she wouldn't trust any answers she got, anyway. Any stranger might be complicit, as far as she's concerned. Abigail has difficulty trusting on the best of days. ]

I just want to know if... if anyone who sees this recognizes me. Is there anyone from my- [ It sounds so silly saying it, but she does ] -from my world here?

Comments

[thehobbsgirl]

[ Abigail sidesteps, away from Will's touch and Hannibal's alike. As glad as she is that they are here (yes, both of them), she doesn't want to encourage them hovering like that. She's not a child, and she's not their child. Crossing her arms, Abigail glances between them, catches the tail end of that look Hannibal gives Will's hand on her shoulder. Hannibal plants the seed of curiosity in Abigail's mind deftly; she wonders what he means by things 'developing the way they had'. She gives him a quick, piercing look, but doesn't ask him what he means... yet. Sometime when it's just the two of them again, she'll bring it up. ]

I can look after myself, too.

[ She means it to come out firmly, but even to her ears it is petulant and uncertain. Abigail knows that they've had more time to grow used to the situation, but she still doesn't understand how they're both so calm about being here. The ways that this place works, its rules and logic, make no sense to her. She doesn't trust it. ]

At least no one here knows who I am.

[ No investigations to worry about, no reporters, no infamy. She looks at Will, quickly; he must also be happy about that, she imagines. After all those things Freddie wrote about him on her website. ]

[glumshoe]

[ Prepared for a brush off, Will keeps his flinch internal. Sees the curiosity in Abigail's look and Hannibal's solemnity and senses the tides battering against him, strings lacing his limbs because he could fight Hannibal, deny him, manipulate him. Raising a hand to defend himself for Abigail's sake, he finds his wrists bound and mouth gagged. What Hannibal intended all along to make him complicit.

Not from an enemy you don't know to expect. He can't commit to it save in his convictions, not until he gets a chance to talk to Abigail on her own. Safety from the media is the one small grace they have here, no Freddie Lounds to hound her for morsels to be put on Lounds' table, no Jack to cow her into -

Except she did. He wasn't wrong. it didn't give Jack the right to terrorize her, but he wasn't wrong. ]

That's right. We can keep it that way, too, if Doctor Lecter agrees that it's in your best interest.

Right, Hannibal?

[ A lure with blood on her hands. Tell Will, do you intend to out her, too? ]

[avoirfaim]

[ Abigail is her own person; Hannibal understands that. He understands that as much as he understands that Will is also his own person. They can continue to be their own people, islands in the sea, but even as their own people there is always the sea and sky, forever. They are their own people, and they are his.

He smiles, meets Will's eyes without intimidation. He checks. ]

Of course we will.

[ And now for you Abigail, though his hand lingers, ready to reach out for her again, forever steady in the face of quakes. ]

And no one doubts that you can take care of yourself. We both know you well enough for that. Three sets of eyes are just better than one.

[thehobbsgirl]

[ Abigail had been so relieved that both Will and Hannibal were here with her, but now as the reality of the situation starts to settle in, she wonders if, in the long run, it might have been better without them. It's good of them, to be generous and agree to keep her identity a secret, but Abigail would rather be in a position not to need the generosity of others. Not to have to trust them, to worry that if she displeases them they'll start spreading stories.

Whether he meant it to or not, Will's if about keeping her secret felt to her like a rebuke of her declaration of self-sufficiency. Being able to look after herself doesn't matter as much if Will and Hannibal both have the power of who she is to hold over her.

It's not that Will or Hannibal has proved himself fickle or spiteful before, but Abigail can't help thinking of their relationship as a negotiation. She keeps them happy, gives them what they want, and they protect her and care about her. Abigail was her father's daughter far longer than she's been their ward, and it's still impossible for her not to strategize for the worst, when dealing with paternal figures. She'd tested Hannibal's boundaries once already, with Nicholas Boyle, and his reaction had told her much. ]

Okay.

[ She says it with her best fake smile, diverts attention as soon as possible. What she needs is some demonstration that she is resuming her role as their surrogate daughter, some small and accomplishable task to demonstrate her dependence. Will, she thinks, will like that. Hannibal will probably see through it, but there's no helping that. ]

Either of you know where you can get food around here? I showed up in the morning and I'm kind of starving...

[glumshoe]

[ Maybe it's simpler that it sound like a rejection of her autonomy. If he had the free reign to allow Abigail hers, he might have and kept a moderate closeness, been there for her when she needed it. The tragic fate of Abigail Hobbs is to be used as a tool time and again to keep her life intact. Will has to weaponize her identity to hold to Hannibal's throat, not hers. If there was a way to make her understand that that Hannibal could not poison -

The staring contest with Hannibal should be the last of this conversation. Abigail's sudden agreement raises as many red flags as it puts down, and while he knows it's a play for peace now that he knows how Abigail operates, he can't seem to find it in him to refuse. He has to trust that his points were silently made with Hannibal and let his voice not fall into dissent and disharmony.

Will's expression softens toward her; he'd forgotten about physical comfort, frankly. Giving a distracted nod, he gestures back at the Mansion to accommodate her playacting in the lion's presence. ]

The dining room is always serving. We could walk you down, listen to what's been going on in your life - if. If you want.

[avoirfaim]

[ Abigail assumes right, and he sees right through it in an instant. A bone thrown to a wolf, in need of something to chew on. They all lie, they all smile through their teeth that are bigger and sharper than they pretend. He can see through her smile but it's not the smile that matters, but the action of smiling.

She does just as he expects of her, and if he expected any less he would pat himself on the back for his choice in ward.

He smiles, far more practiced at detaching his face from his soul or lack thereof. ]

I can cook something for the three of us. You can help if you like, Abigail. And Will, if you're so inclined to join in.