#twistedminds

There it is…There is my becoming…My rebirth…My satisfaction within my Life. And you my Little Love shall not strive to live my life. Live life the way you want to. Love greatly. Do what makes you happy and what satisfies you. You are Intelligent and Kind. But you are your parents child and for that I am sorry. I’m sorry you now have to Bare the Twisted Minds of those who came Before you. 

You have Potential to do what me and your father couldn’t. Don’t become the monsters you hunt. Me and your Father failed that aspect of our job. We fell in love with it. But you. You have the best of all three of us. And the worst. Harness the worst so you can do the best. 

I Cant tell you, How proud I am of you. I am proud to be your Mom. No matter where i am. You will always have me. All I can say is Good luck, the path I paved for you will not be easy but I know you my girl will conquer all the challenges in your way.

                                                            – Dr. Y/N Graham-L/N, PhD 

                                                                                                   AKA     Your Mama

GRAHAM-L/N FAMILY HOME - BEDROOM - EVENING -

16 year old Brianna glances up from the Journal. She lets out a deep breath. She glances from the Journal to Her first PhD. 

FORENSIC PSYCHOLOGY. DR. BRIANNA MISCHA GRAHAM.

She removes her Graduation cap. Theres a knock at her Door. “Come in!” Bri wipes her tears. Y/N Comes in with what seemed to be a gift. “Here honey…” Y/N leaves the gift on her bed, kisses the top of her head and then leaves.

Brianna takes the gift into her hands, its a small rectangular box elegantly wrapped. The tag reads : To Dr. Brianna Graham.  You know who you are. Embrace it. - Papa

HOSPITAL - REBA MCCLANE'S ROOM - DAY-

Reba lies in her hospital bed. Exhausted. Recovering from smoke inhalation and burns. Y/N  sits beside her bed, a female POLICE OFFICER in the room with them.

“A man had tried to slap me once. I was quiet and he couldn't find me – he couldn't see either. This one could see. He was crazy. Crazy, all right. That's it: crazy.” Reba's hand brings more ice to her lips. “Crazy is a fearsome word.”

“He shot himself in the face. I put my hand in it. He set fire to the house. He shot himself. I put my hand in it. He was on the floor…” She trails off, trying to contain her emotions. “I won't put you through this again, but I'd like to come back by. Just to say hi and see how you're doing.”

“How could you help it? A charmer like me.” Bitterness and self-reproach evident in her voice. Y/N won't let her go there. 

“Would you excuse us for a minute, Officer?” The officer leaves the room, then Y/N takes Reba's hand. “In the end, he couldn't kill you and he couldn't watch you die. The people who study this kind of thing say he was trying to stop.”

“Why?”

“Because you helped him. That probably saved some lives.”

“I drew a freak.”

“You didn't draw a freak. You drew a man with a freak on his back. Nothing wrong with you, don't let yourself believe there is.” Y/N says softly, knowing how she feels. “I know there's nothing wrong with me. In making friends, I try to be wary of people who foster dependency and feed on it. I've been with a few. The blind attract them.”

“Not just the blind. I'm coming back to see you in a day or so. I have to look at cops all the time, and I need relief; try to do something about your hair there.” She grins a little. Y/N quietly leaves.

NORMAN CHAPEL - DAY-

Will GOES  inside the chapel. Standing at the altar, with his back toward Will, is Hannibal Lecter lighting candles. Lighting one candle after another.

Will turns to the rows of votive candles behind him andlights a stick to ignite a candle's wick.

A VOTIVE CANDLE It's lit.  “Ding-dong, the Dragon's dead.” Hannibal's smile fades, genuinely disappointed by that news, but finding some possible shred of hope:

“Are congratulations in order?”

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

Will approaches Hannibal behind his glass wall. “I didn't kill him. Suicide.”

“Then he wasn't as strong as the Dragon after all.”

“He was trying to stop.”

“I was rooting for you, Will. It's a shame. You came all this way and you didn't get to kill anybody.

Only consolation is Dr. Chilton. Congratulations for the job you did on him. I admired it enormously. What a cunning boy you are.” Hannibal smirks. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“Does the enemy inside you agree with the accusation? Even a little bit?”

“I came back to stop the Dragon. He's stopped.”

“Your family was on his itinerary. Safe now. You and Y/N can go home again. If there's any point. Is there any point?” Hannibal comments, “I like my life there.”

“It won't be the same. You'll see it's not the same. The unspoken knowledge will live with you, like unwanted company in the house.”

“Y/N and I want it to be the same.”

“Mutual assurances you try to exchange in the dark and in the day will pass through some refraction, making them miss their mark. When life becomes maddeningly polite... ...think about me. Think about me, Will, don't worry about me.”

“You turned yourself in so I would always know where you are. You'd only do that if I rejected you. Good-bye, Hannibal.” Will turns and walks away, the doors BUZZING open. “Will...Was it good to see me?”

“Good? No.” And with that Will exits, the double doors closing behind him.

HOTEL - NIGHT-

Establishing. The hotel, lonely in the night, lights burning orange. Like an Edward Hopper painting.

HOTEL - THE GRAHAM'S ROOM - NIGHT-

Will enters the dark hotel room, weary. As he turns to close and lock the door, a SHADOW moves in the darkness behind him. He senses the movement just an instant too late. FOOTSTEPS rush up behind him. As he turns – FRANCIS DOLARHYDE

Seizes Will from behind and clamps a chloroformed washcloth over his mouth. Will kicks the door, propelling them both backward. Dolarhyde staggers, but maintains his vise-like grip.

Will thrashes violently in Dolarhyde's powerful arms. Kicking over a bedside table. Kicking against any surface. His struggles growing wilder, less coordinated. Will's legs flying up into the air, perpendicular, but Dolarhyde is so strong that he remains upright, absorbing Will's energy.

They smash into a mirror on the wall, crazing the glass, and, for a moment, both men are reflected side by side in the broken shards -- shattered and incomplete.

Will's eyes are wide -- panicked and furious. Gradually growing unfocused. Until they glaze as the chloroform does its work. WILL'S LEGS Kick feebly, then go limp.

Will's eyes close, Dolarhyde's face right behind his. As Will slides into unconsciousness, Dolarhyde relaxes his grip. Dolarhyde holds Will's limp body. Breathing heavily from the struggle. There is something subtly postcoital about it. this terrible lovers' embrace…

WATER It cascades through space in until...SPLASH -- it washes over Will's face. He groggily and jerkily blinks into consciousness. A dry towel is tossed INTO FRAME. “Are you all right?”

“Uhhhh…” We are --

HOTEL - THE GRAHAM’S ROOM - NIGHT-

Will's slumped in his hotel chair, eyes peeling open. Blurry shapes shuddering into focus...Dolarhyde stands over him, his silenced pistol in his hand. “Breathe deeply. Do you think you can sit up? Try to sit up.” Will scoots up in the chair, propping himself up on elbows. “You didn't break my back.”

“Not today.” Dolarhyde stares at Will a moment, studying him, then: “Your face is closed to me.”

“If I can see you, you can see me.” Dolarhyde is amused by Will in a curious way. “You think you understand, don't you?”

“"I understand that blood and breath are only elements undergoing change to fuel your Radiance." Hannibal said those words. To me.”  Will pants softly, “I tried to share with Lecter, and Lecter betrayed me.”

“He betrayed me, too.”

“I would like to share.”

“You shared with Reba.”

“I shared with Reba a little, in a way she could survive. She had one flash of my glory.” 

“You didn't change her.”

“I choose not to change her. I thought, "Dare I? Of course I do." I'm stronger than the Dragon now.”

“Dr. Chilton was just an annoyance to you and so am I, but Hannibal Lecter is who you need to change.” Will convinces him. “I want to meet Lecter. I want to tell him important things. How could I manage that?” Dolarhyde and Will's cabal…

BAU - EVIDENCE PROCESSING - DAY-

ZELLER and Price have the last remains of Francis Dolarhyde, and evidence from the house, laid out on tables. burned partial dental plate -- several distinct snaggled teeth still in place -- as Brian Zeller retrieves it from the skull.

“The only teeth we found in the skull were Grandma's dentures.” Jimmy nonchalantly holds the buckled and twisted shotgun by its charred grip. “The upper part was made of vulcanite instead of acrylic like they use now. Nobody's made vulcanite plates in fifty years.”

“Dolarhyde had a new acrylic pair just like them made to fit him. Chinese manufacture. The new ones were on his body. Grandma's yucky old ones were in his mouth.”

“Not his mouth, per se. We think it's a guy named Arnold Lang – he's missing. Worked at a service station near Dolarhyde. Found his car, but it had been wiped down.”

“Dolarhyde snuffs Lang and takes his body to the house, gives the blind lady this and that, you know, "Will I kill you?"/"Will I not kill you?"” Cutting Zeller off to land the plane: “"I can't stand to see you burn," he says, boohoo, and blows Lang's head off with a twelve-gauge.”

“The routine about the key hanging around his neck was to make sure she felt the body. So she could tell us she certainly felt a body.” Y/N turns her head, and only now do we see Will Graham stands alongside her, seemingly taking this in. “The Great Red Dragon lives”

BAU - CORRIDOR OUTSIDE EVIDENCE PROCESSING - DAY-

Y/N and Will confer quietly in the hall as Zeller and Price work over the charred corpse in the background. “The obvious thing is to try to get him to come to us. Bait him with something he wants more than me.”

“He'd be an idiot to go for it.” I groan softly. “I know. Want to hear what the best bait would be?”

I sigh “I'm not sure I do.”

“Hannibal would be the best bait.”

“Why in God's name would anybody want to meet Hannibal Lecter?” I rub my temple. “To kill him Honey The Dragon could absorb him that way, engulf him, become more than he is.”

“You sound pretty sure.” I run a hand through my hair. “I'm not sure. Who's sure? I'm not even sure Hannibal would draw the Dragon. I say it's the best shot.”

“Set up how?” I ask, knowing it'll be a pain in the ass to set up. “It would be hell to do, I know that. We'd take Hannibal into federal custody.” Will leans on the wall, taking my face in his hand. 

“Because Alana would never sit still for what you're about to suggest?” I grab his arm softly.  “We fake an escape.”

BEDELIA'S HOME OFFICE - DAY-

After a moment, she crosses to the bar cart by the window and chooses a drink, her mind spinning as she pours:

“We assign a moment to decision, to dignify the process as a timely result of rational and conscious thought. Yet what you propose is so thoughtless, I find it difficult to imagine that moment exists.” She crosses back to her chair, not offering Will a drink.

“Decisions are made of kneaded feelings. They're more often a lump than a sum.” Bedelia sits down, glass in hand. “However you think you're going to manipulate this situation to your advantage, think again.”

“There is no advantage. It's all degrees of disadvantage.” Bedelia fixes Will with a piercing stare. "Who holds the Devil, let him hold him well. He will hardly be caught a second time."

“I don't intend Hannibal to be caught a second time.” Bedelia studies Will. Sensing where he might be going. Hoping she is wrong. A flicker of alarm plays in her eyes. “Can't live with him. Can't live without him. Is that what this is?”

“I guess this is my Becoming.”

“What you're "becoming" is pathological.”

“Extreme acts of cruelty require a high degree of empathy.”

“You found religion. Nothing more dangerous than that.”

“I'd pack my bags if I were you, Bedelia. Meat's back on the menu.” Bedelia is enraged in a way we’ve never seen. “You righteous, reckless, twitchy little man. Might as well cut all our throats and be done with it.”

“Ready or not. Here he comes.”

BAU - DR. Y/N L/N'S OFFICE - NIGHT-

After hours, dimly lit, Y/N, Alana Bloom, Jack Crawford and Will Graham have gathered to plot against Hannibal. “Hannibal has tentatively agreed to the deal, as proposed.” Alana says antsy, I sigh. “What will make him less tentative?”

“He wants Will to ask him. He wants you to say "please."” She turns to him.  “I'll say "pretty please."” Will says sassily, I smirk.

“We will have a stampede when people think Lecter is out.” Jack shakes his head. 

“Let them stampede. Authenticity. And let them think I helped Hannibal escape. Let them think we Took Y/N as a Hostage.” Will says, his hand stroking my spine. My breathing hitches.

“Authenticity?”

“Someone has to be close. When the Dragon comes.”  I say knowingly. “And then?” Alana questions, Will tilts his head. “How do you behave when you know the conventional honors have no value?”

“Is it possible to behave well then?” 

“Desirable to behave well?” Will asks. “There is a wisdom longer than considerations of honor. We kill Dolarhyde. Then we kill Hannibal.” Jack says in a bloodthirsty tone.

“He has to die. He has to.” Alana shakes her head firmly. “To the Devil his due.” I say with dark eyes.

NORMAN CHAPEL - DAY-

Cruises between rows of chairs filled with nondescript MOURNERS to find Will and Hannibal sitting across from each other, whispering to each other over the aisle: “I thought you said your good-byes.”

“We've one last good-bye between us.” Will says softly, his head turning to Hannibal. “You didn't just say good-bye, though, did you? That little extra bit at the end. What was that you said?”

“You wouldn't have turned yourself in unless I rejected you.”

“Yes. That extra bit.”

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

“I believe that's what they call a "mic drop." You dropped the mic, Will, but here you are having to come back and pick it up again.” Will is inside the glass as Hannibal is being strapped to his vertical wheelchair by a PAIR OF NURSES. Will stares, then manages a small smile at getting called out as only a good friend can do. 

“I knew you would keep running if I kept chasing you. I knew you wanted me to know exactly where I could find you. When I needed you.” 

“And you did.”

Will sighs. “I need you, Hannibal.”

“Ding-dong. The Dragon's not dead.”

“He told you he wanted to meet you. Maybe that's a serious invitation.” Will quirks an Eyebrow. “Somehow, I don't think he was just being polite.” 

“After the big escape, you send the Dragon a message in the personal ads, you ask him for a rendezvous.”

“He won't go near a mail drop.” Hannibal says knowingly, “But he might be curious enough to look at one to see if you sold him.”

“If he could do it from a distance.”

“We picked a drop that can be watched from only a few places a long way off, and we'll stake out the observation points.” Hannibal studies Will, then: “It sounds weak to you, even as you say it.” 

Will doesn't blink. “Secret Service has a setup they've never used. They'll let us have it. We need you, Hannibal. Please.” Hannibal's smile at the magic word, the mask comes down…

PRISON TRANSPORT VAN - DAY-

A single cage inside, Hannibal securely shackled within. A bench seat outside the cage runs along the van's side, ending at a bulkhead separating them from the front cabin. A VAN DRIVER and VAN GUARD can be seen through a meshed window.

Will, Y/N, and an FBI AGENT sit on the bench, Hannibal in profile to them. The FBI agent holds a pump-action shotgun.

COUNTRY ROAD - DAY-

A third cruiser is accelerating up on the convoy. As it gets close, its lights begin to flash and it pulls out to overtake the convoy.

PRISON TRANSPORT VAN - DAY-

Will, Y/N and the FBI agent exchange a glance as the blue lights of the cruiser register in the back compartment. Hannibal turns to hold Will's gaze.

COUNTRY ROAD - DAY-

The cruiser pulls level with the lead cruiser. As the driver looks across, we see that Francis Dolarhyde is behind the wheel! Dolarhyde raises his gun through the open passenger window and fires.

PRISON TRANSPORT VAN - DAY-

Will, Y/N and the FBI agent are thrown violently sideways as the van swerves, and then more shockingly, they are hurled forward against the bulkhead as the van dips alarmingly down into a ditch and SMASHES TO A HALT.

Hannibal slams against the sides of his cage, but the enclosure saves him from the beating Will and the FBI agent take. The compartment is left angled upward, Will and the FBI agent sprawled at the bottom, toward the window, dazed and bruised. POP-POP, blood sprays against the windshield and through the meshed window as both men in the transport van cabin take bullets to their skulls.

Will and the FBI agent struggle to right themselves, the agent reaching for his shotgun – As the rear doors are thrown open. Silhouetted in the doorway, Dolarhyde shoots the FBI agent in the head as he raises his shotgun.

Dolarhyde removes the keys from the FBI agent, unlocks Hannibal Lecter's cage and tosses the keys onto his lap. Dolarhyde gives Will and Y/N one last glance and climbs out. Hannibal quickly unlocks his bindings and follows.

COUNTRY ROAD - DAY-

Hannibal pulls himself and Y/N from the van and surveys the scene. Dolarhyde is already in his stolen police car, ahead of the wreckage and driving away. There's a police car skid to a stop behind the transport van, inside are TWO DEAD POLICE OFFICERS shot execution-style.

Will Graham climbs out of the back, surveys the damage. He crosses to the police car. He opens the door and pulls the dead driver from the vehicle. “What are you doing?”

“You know, Will, you worry too much. You'd be so much more comfortable if you relaxed with yourself.” Hannibal leads me with him. 

The lead cruiser -- sideways in the road. Blood splashed on it. TWO MORE BLOODY DEAD MEN in their seats. He hears a car engine start up and turns to see the rear cruiser starting toward him from down the road.

 He sees – HANNIBAL Behind the wheel. Y/N in the Passenger seat. The side window is smashed, blood splashed across the inside of the windshield. Hannibal pulls up alongside Will, I open the Backseat door and shove a dead police officer out of the vehicle. He leans across the seat:

“Are you coming? He's not going to kill us here. What he wants to do requires something a little more private.” His hand Rests on my Thigh showing that I can indeed be shared. It wasn't an option. 

Will takes the gun off the dead cop, then holds Hannibal's gaze -- should he kill Hannibal right now himself? Will glances at the chaos and carnage around them and then tucks the gun into the back of his pants and climbs into the car with Y/N. Hannibal puts the car in drive and pulls away. cranes back high and wide as the car pulls away from the wreckage and heads for the horizon..

BLUFF-TOP HOUSE - SUNSET-

Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter, still in his institutional overalls, approach the house. Will is drawn to the view. Y/N Leans against the car.  “The bluff is eroding. There was more land when I was here with Abigail. More land still when I was here with Miriam Lass.”

“Now you're here with us.”

“And the bluff is still eroding. We are suspended over the roiling Atlantic. Soon all of this will be lost to the sea.” Will lingers as Hannibal locates the spare key under a stone, opens the front door and disappears into the house.

BLUFF-TOP HOUSE - NIGHT-

Hannibal moves through the house, now dressed in his own clothes, carrying a bottle of wine and a wine opener. He notices Will at a window, staring out into the night.

“You're playing games with yourself in the dark of the moon.” Hannibal wipes down three wine glasses on a side table. 

“Wasn't surprising that I heard from the Great Red Dragon. Was it surprising when you heard from him?” Will hesitates. Hannibal does not miss a thing. “Yes and no.”

“You intend to watch him kill me?”

“I intend to watch him change you.” Hannibal takes that in, a sad smile as he fingers the corkscrew, contemplating killing Will with it. Taking Y/N and leaving the country like he should have almost four years ago. Instead, he uses the tip to cut the seal on the wine bottle. “My compassion for you both is inconvenient.”

“If you're partial to beef products, it's inconvenient to be compassionate toward a cow.” I snort as I sip my wine. “Save yourself, kill them all?”

“I don't know if I can save myself. And maybe that's just fine.”

"No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a friend or Lover." Hannibal Kisses my Temple. His hand slipping around my Waist. 

“He's watching us now.” P-KEE A low sound and a dull impact on glass. A bullet hole appears in the large window, creating a spiderweb of cracks. THE WINE BOTTLE Shatters in Hannibal's hand.

He glances down and sees a wine stain on his sweater. A beat, and then the window shatters around the bullet hole, all at once, Hannibal's wine bottle drops from his hand. We see now that the large red wine stain on his sweater blossoms with blood. He has been shot. 

Glass shards fall through the air; beyond them, the patio is black night. And then, striding out of the blackness, as if a shadow made human, comes Francis Dolarhyde. HANNIBAL Slides to his knees. Blood pumping from the gunshot wound in his abdomen.

Will watches as Dolarhyde enters, his gun in one hand, a black duffel in the other. A knife in his belt. Dolarhyde looks at Will and Y/N. “Don't run. I'll catch you. Both of you.” Hannibal glances up from his belly wound: “Hello, Francis.”

“Hello, Dr. Lecter.” Dolarhyde pulls a tripod from his bag and tosses it to Will, then points the gun at Will's head. Will begins to set it up. Y/N is still leaning against the wall, glass of wine in hand. Taking Hannibal’s role as observer, waiting to see what would happen.

“I'm so happy you chose life, Francis. Suicide is the enemy.” Dolarhyde squats to look at Hannibal on his level. “I had one rag of pride that Reba McClane gave me. It told me that suicide was a sorry end.”

“You were seized by a fantasy life with the brilliance and freshness and immediacy of childhood. It took you a step beyond alone.” Dolarhyde pulls a 16-mm camera from his bag, hands it to Will who fixes it atop the tripod, at gunpoint.

“I'm going to film your death, Dr. Lecter, as dying, you meld with the strength of the Dragon.”

“It's a glorious and rather discomfiting idea.” As Will backs away from the camera and tripod, he surreptitiously reaches for the gun tucked into the small of his back…

“Watching the film will be wonderful, but not as wonderful as the act itself.”

...and Dolarhyde suddenly slams a knife into Will's face. the blade pierces Will's cheek. Blood fills Will's mouth and pours down his face. He grasps at Dolarhyde's arms, trying to fight him off.

Dolarhyde lifts Will off the ground, driving the knife deeper. Will chokes on his own blood.

Dolarhyde picks Will up and bodily hurls him back through the broken window, onto the... PATIO

 Will lands and rag-dolls across the stones. Will's blood as it spatters in thick drops to the stone. He gets to his hands and knees. Dolarhyde is coming, bearing down on Will.

“It'll be easy to break your back. Better than killing you. Break your back and twist it, just to be sure. They'll have to roll you to your next investigation.” Will pulls his gun out and Dolarhyde immediately disarms him, tossing the gun over the bluff. 

Y/N doesn't bother with her gun. No. She wants to feel his blood run in her hands. The man that tried to slaughter her daughter. The beast who so foolishly thought he could kill her. 

Will pulls the knife free of his face and stabs it in Dolarhyde's leg. Dolarhyde pulls the knife out of his leg and slams it into Will's collarbone, using it as a handlebar to pull Will's shoulders until his back snaps. Just as Dolarhyde is about to complete the "yank and snap," Hannibal, sans jacket, jumps on Dolarhyde's back, causing him to drop Will.

HANNIBAL as he tries to snap Dolarhyde's neck with his trademark swift twist, but the man's neck is too strong and Dolarhyde twists and swats at Hannibal, bucking to throw him off. They stagger across the patio. Dolarhyde reaching behind him for purchase on Hannibal. Dolarhyde tosses Hannibal off his back, like swatting a fly, and Hannibal clatters to the stones, rolling into the woodpile -- where he spies a rusted hatchet.

Y/N pulls the knife from her shoulder in a welter of blood. And runs and stabs Dolarhyde in the back with the knife. Dolarhyde roars in pain and rage, turns on Will once more. Hannibal drags himself to the hatchet. Comes behind Francis and slams it into his Achilles tendon and then his knee.

Flesh and sinew rupture. A brutal and underhand move. Dolarhyde is a bull, still charging despite his wounds. And he ignores Will's stabs as he beats on him. Dolarhyde goes down on one leg, a falling giant. Will and Hannibal watch him. This huge driven man, their enemy and also their equal. Y/N Stalks towards him like a Bloodthirsty Wolf.

Dolarhyde bleeding from his many wounds -- his leg destroyed -- Actively trying to Avoid Y/N – holds their gaze. And then he struggles back to his feet. He staggers as Hannibal jumps on his back, his leg buckling, and, in that instant, he's already too late to halt Will's move.

There is a sudden sickening sound and Dolarhyde looks down to see Will Graham has stuck the knife into his abdomen. And then Will jerks the blade downward and blood fountains onto him from Dolarhyde who bucks and arches, like a buffalo fighting off lions. He kicks Will away across the stones. 

Dolarhyde reaches down and pulls the knife free of his own gut with a SCHLICK of innards. And Hannibal -- Leans in and BITES OUT DOLARHYDE'S THROAT. Y/N Twirls her knife in her hand as she watches the men she loves.

Dolarhyde arches back as blood fountains from his throat and belly. Will looks on as Hannibal falls from Dolarhyde's back and drops to the ground.

Y/N Smiles Darkly and repeatedly stabs Dolarhyde over and over. Dolarhyde staggers, blood fountaining from his throat and Abdomen. He stares up at the moon and drops to his knees, and then down onto his back.

Dolarhyde's profile as he breathes and blood bubbles from his throat. His head turns and he stares at Y/N as life slowly fades from his eyes. Dolarhyde, pulling away till he is centered, the pooling, spreading blood on either side of him becoming red dragon's wings.

The terribly-injured Will and Hannibal drag themselves to their feet, looking at one another over the dead Dolarhyde. Y/N drips in blood, the knife in her hand drops. SENSUAL SHOTS of the blood of the Throuple as it drops from their wounds, the blood black in the moonlight.

“It really does look black in the moonlight.” Hannibal staggers toward the edge of the bluffs and regards the ocean a moment before turning back to face Will. “See. This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For all Three of us.” Hannibal pants, Holding Y/N against him. 

“It's beautiful.” A moment as Will considers the brutal pack hunting he shared with Hannibal Lecter And His Wife. He genuinely feels it is beautiful.

BEDELIA'S HOME OFFICE - DAY-

Will sits opposite BEDELIA, mid-therapy. “I look at my wife and I see her dead. I see Mrs. Leeds and Mrs. Jacobi lying where Y/N should be.”

“Do you see yourself killing her?” Bedelia questions, “Yes. Over and over.”

“It's hard to predict when brittle materials will break. Hannibal gave you three years to build a family and a life, confident he'd find a way to take them from you. Either for himself or for death.” 

“And he has.” Will almost sneers at the thought. “Aggression can be an effective means of maintaining order in a relationship.”

“What's he going to take from you?” Will asks almost elated. “Is it important to you that he take something from me?” Bedelia asks without emotion.

“Hannibal has agency in the world.”

“Hannibal has no intention of seeing me dead by any other hand than his own, and only then if he can eat me. He's in no position to eat me now.” Bedelia smiles a bitchy smile. “If you play, you pay.”

“You've paid dearly. That knowledge will lie against your skin forever. It excites him to see you marked in this particular way.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” Will studies her, amused/annoyed by the psychiatric game. “Bluebeard's wife. Secrets you're not to know, yet sworn to keep.”

“If I'm to be Bluebeard's wife, I would've preferred to be the last.” A moment as Will considers that, then: “Is Hannibal in love with me and Y/N?”

“Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment in the very sight of you? Yes.

 But do you and your Wife ache for him?” Will doesn't answer, only stares. Finally: “Once you catch the Red Dragon, your Daughter can go home again. Can you and Y/N?”

BAU - DR. Y/N L/N'S OFFICE - DAY-

Will Graham paces before the desk. ALANA BLOOM sits in a chair, watching him. “Eight people dead in a month. We can't play a long game. I say we go for it. You know and I know it's the best way to bait him.”

“Got me on the hook, now Jacks dangling me to catch a bigger fish.”

“Against my directive, and You suggested it.” I give him a look, “You're thrilled you didn't have to.”

“You fooled yourselves once into believing you were in control of what was happening. Are you still under that delusion?” Will glances at Alana and Y/N , for a brief moment, her eyes and mouth are covered by JAGGED SHARDS OF MIRROR. He looks away. “The Dragon does have a certain abstract curiosity about me. All psychopaths are narcissists. They love to read about themselves.”

“Even Hannibal read TattleCrime.”

“We should Use Freddie Lounds.”

“She would need to interview you, Will. Take your picture.” I say, making sure he knows what we're doing. “I'm in it now. We Can't go home as long as he's loose. I really badmouth the Red Dragon in TattleCrime and then give him a shot at me.”

“It would have to be a pretty good shot. What about the setup?” I ask as I cross my arms.

“Something open. Someplace where he can get close. I don't think he'd snipe. He might fool me, but I can't see him with a rifle.” Y/N listens like an owl. Saying nothing. Will looks at him. “Feels like a trap to me. And it'll feel like a trap to him. Unless you have a professional voice to legitimize what you're saying.”

“Someone to hide the wire of the snare. Are you volunteering?” Now both of them are looking at Alana. She shakes her head. “No. I'd have to be a fool.”

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

Hannibal sits at his table, entertained by Frederick Chilton pacing before the glass. Chilton's anger is palpable. “Thank you, Frederick.”

“I just finished reading your most recent piece. Extraordinary stuff.”

“It's a particularly good one.”

“It, uh... it may be my favorite. I've seen a lot of hostility. But this was quantifiably bitchy. Do you think I'm your nemesis?”

“No. Nemesis? No.”

“You refuted my entire book.”

“It didn't hold up to scrutiny.” Chilton inclines his chin, goes on the offensive. “Of course it didn't, I was lying. On your behalf. To save your life. you refuted your insanity defense. I went out on a limb for you and you went up there and sawed it off.”

“"Wood burns because it has the proper stuff in it; and a man becomes famous because he has the proper stuff in him." You don't have the proper stuff, Frederick.”

“I'm a best-selling author. The journals only still publish you for the freak value of your byline.” A mercenary smile as Chilton relishes his next words. “Attention given to you is dwindling since you've been overshadowed by another creature. That book is writing itself. I think I'll call it The Dragon Slayer. All I need is the ending.” Hannibal smiles -- not the reaction Chilton hoped to evoke.

“Fate has a habit of not letting us choose our own endings, Frederick.”

“This is the ending fate has chosen for you. Your teeth will go and your strength. Nobody will be afraid of you anymore. After Dr. Bloom's reign, you'll be out in the ward. The young ones will push you around and use you for sex. All you'll get to read is what you write on the wall. You've seen the old ones. They cry when they don't like the stewed apricots.” Dr. Chilton stares for just a moment longer, then fishes a copy of Hannibal the Cannibal from his briefcase on the floor.

“I'm just going to leave an extra copy of my book right over here. I've personalized the inside cover.” Chilton places the book on the table by the doors as they BUZZ open. He takes one last glance over his shoulder to see Hannibal is still watching him even as the doors close.

BSHCI - CELL BLOCK - DAY-

Chilton straightens his jacket, glancing up to see Alana Bloom leaning against the far wall. “Are you here to remonstrate me with "I told you so"s?”

“That's not why I'm here.”

“She's here because we need someone who is less concerned about the whole truth than the best story.” I say With a calculated smile.

HOTEL - THE GRAHAM'S ROOM - DAY-

Y/N is referring to FREDDIE LOUNDS who is setting up a recording device in the room, equidistant between Dr. Chilton, Will Graham and herself.

Behind Will and Chilton is a window and, outside it, OUT OF FOCUS but visible, is a large city fountain on the street below; beyond it, the familiar dome of the Capitol building.

“You lay out your theories and then Will aggravates them on the record.” Y/N Explains, a guarded smirk on her face. “You're making statements no investigator would ever make and no straight newspaper would credit.” 

“You're not a straight newspaper. You sell T-shirts that say, "The Tooth Fairy Is a One-Night Stand."” 

“I can get you one, if you like. You small or medium? Small, I bet. They're not selling so well since you started calling him "The Dragon."” Freddie says with a drawl. 

“The killer's objection to the name "Tooth Fairy" is likely grounded in the homosexual implication of the word "fairy." Tedious, I know, but if you really want to piss him off, that's what you should call him.”  Chilton suggests.

“The Tooth Fairy it is.” Y/N leans on the wall. Freddie presses the "record" button. The LED readout begins to crawl as it begins to record. as he speaks authoritatively:

“The Tooth Fairy's actions indicate a projective delusion compensating for intolerable feelings of inadequacy. Smashing mirrors ties these feelings to his appearance.” Y/N watches with a python's patience. Knowing how it might unravel. Puppeteering through others.

“Not only is the Tooth Fairy insane, he is ugly and impotent.” Will's abrupt interruption and "interpretation" momentarily throws Dr. Chilton off, but he quickly recovers. “There's a strong bonding of aggressive and sexual drives that occurs in sadists at an early age.”

“He's a vicious, perverted, sexual failure. An animal.” Dr. Chilton stares at Will, then continues: “The savage acts aimed primarily at the women, and performed in the presence of family, are clearly strikes at a maternal figure.”

“The Tooth Fairy's the product of an incestuous home.” Freddie laps this up as she scribbles notes.

“This is the child of a nightmare.” The compassion of those words hangs in the air a moment, forcing Will to consider their weight, then: Freddie presses the "stop" button and it ceases to record.

“We need a key shot taken in your "Washington hideaway."” As she speaks, Freddie produces an ARTIST'S CONCEPT DRAWING of Francis Dolarhyde, something more akin to Frankenstein's monster, lurking in the shadows, with a cleft palate.

“I'd love something like you in a bathrobe, at the desk, poring over an artists's conception of the Fairy. Y/N behind you maybe?”

“We'll stand by the window. Make sure you can see the fountain and the Capitol dome behind me. The Red Dragon has to be able to find this place, if he wants to.” Will stands next to the window Holding his Wife, the Capitol dome in the deep background, as Freddie readies the lens on her camera.

The fountain below can be clearly seen behind them, as well as the Capitol dome. Will and Y/N take an awkward pose. Just before Freddie can shoot -- Will looks at Chilton. “Would you like to be in the picture, Frederick?”

“One for the dust jacket.” Dr. Chilton joins Will and Y/N, and adopts his best media pose -- but just before the shutter, Will raises his arm and places it round Chilton in comradely fashion. Chilton placing his hand on Y/Ns Lower back.  The FRAME FREEZES on this shot of friends in arms. Will's location clear. 

HOTEL - FOUNTAIN - DAY-

Will Graham and Jack Crawford walk past the fountain toward his hotel. “This whole procedure is too passive for my taste. We are playing games in the dark of the moon.”

“He thinks he can do anything. Maybe he thinks he can stop. If he can hold off until we catch him, maybe we can help him make it stop.” 

“He almost killed your wife and daughter.”

“Hannibal almost killed them.” Jack studies Will, then notes the light in the sky changing. “Pedestrian traffic falls off around 7:15. You should go for a walk around 8:30 or so. He'll have to come over open ground to get close.”

“He'll want to get close.”

“I have snipers with night-vision on the roofs. You'll wear body armor.” Will smiles at Jack -- who's he kidding? “Seven out of eleven times, he's gone for the headshot, Jack. Do you even run things by Y/N before you present them?”

BSHCI - CORRIDOR - DAY-

Alana carries the padded envelope inexorably headed for --

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

CH-CHUNK! The delivery tray jerks open and the envelope lands inside it, address up. Another CH-CHUNK and it's gone. “Hand delivered.” Alana doesn't respond, just stares. “May I open it privately?”

“You may not.” Hannibal Takes it and sits, curious, examining the block capitals of the address. He tears open the envelope and a smaller envelope slips out. 

Alana watches carefully. In the second envelope, Hannibal finds a gauze-wrapped bundle. He unrolls it, curiosity piqued, to reveal a pair of pink, leech-like PIECES OF FLESH. FREDERICK CHILTON'S LIPS.

Hannibal's at once intrigued and flattered. He considers the two wet offerings starkly vivid against the white bandaging, then shows them to Alana on the other side of the glass. Words written in a personal, emotional hand: "With These He Offended Me."

“Dr. Chilton often offended me with his ignorant drivel. So I certainly understand the sentiment.” l he is in a straightjacket, secured to his hand truck. We are –

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

Alana is inside Hannibal's cell, along with Jack. Hannibal is behind the table, which has been returned to the room, flanked by two ORDERLIES standing behind him in the shadows. On the table is the package and its contents. Alana has her eyes down on the card. Jack glances at the package contents.

“Where's the other one?”  tilts down to the same gauze -- and the SINGLE LIP lying there.

“This one can provide you anything the other one can.” Hannibal smiles, the cat who ate the canary, or the lip. “I'm sorry, Jack. The tragedy of what's happened to Frederick has put me in an excellent humor.” Jack and Alana both stare a moment, then: “Frederick Chilton disappeared yesterday, under armed escort.”

“You pretended to burn Freddie Lounds in a wheelchair to flush me out. What were you pretending to do with Frederick Chilton?”

“He profiled the Dragon. For Freddie Lounds.” Jack says it in a tone that would make it seem any better. “We wanted to enrage him.”

“Congratulations. You could've provided anything Dr. Chilton could. That would've been your lip I was tasting. Again.”

“You publicly discredited Dr. Chilton. By refuting him, you orchestrated his end by proxy.” Jack scrutinizes.

“You orchestrated his end, Alana. You saw the hole and let him roll right into it. That's professional discourtesy.” Alana reeling from that clean, effective blow... 

BAU - DR. Y/N GRAHAM-L/N'S OFFICE - DAY-

Lit by the changing images on the screen, Will, Y/N and Alana silently watch the film unrolling.

Chilton in Dolarhyde's house, secured to the wheelchair, facing camera. Behind him, a projector screen is silently playing footage Dolarhyde filmed of Y/N and Brianna at Will's cabin. Will stares, but says nothing. Chilton is frightened as he speaks, taking pains to stick to the Dragon's script:

“I have had a great privilege. I have seen with wonder and awe the strength of the Great Red Dragon. I lied about Him. All that was said was lies from Will Graham. He made me say them. I have blasphemed against the Dragon. Even so, the Dragon is merciful. He knows you made me lie, Will Graham. Because I was forced to lie, He will be more merciful to me than to you, Will Graham, Dr. Graham-L/N” 

Chilton pauses and then continues. The group watches in horrified silence. Will's pulse pounds in his ears. He glances at Y/N and Alana -- both, for a brief horrifying moment, have mirror shards in their bleeding eyes. A blink, and they're normal.

“Reach behind you, Will Graham, Dr. Graham-L/N and feel for the small knobs on the top of your pelvis. Feel your spine between them; that is the precise spot where the Dragon will snap your spines. There's much for you to dread. From my own lips, you'll learn a little more to dread.”

 The video image clips as the camera is paused, and then starts recording again. Dolarhyde's muscular back, with the Great Red Dragon emblazoned across it, looms INTO FRAME and Chilton begins screaming horribly.

“Turn it off, Y/N.” Alana looks away. Will slides down the wall to his haunches, head down. Over this, we hear: “No... 'o, 'ou 'romised... 'ou 'Romised.” Chilton's voice descends into wet, racking, agonized sobs.

BAU - JACK CRAWFORD'S OFFICE - DAY-

Will staring across the desk at JACK CRAWFORD staring at the candid pictures, of the Jacobi and Leeds families, in his hand. “Nightly news countdown to the next full moon. Chicago and Buffalo police are under a media blitz.”

“He's not going to kill again in Chicago or Buffalo. He's moved on.” Will scoffs. “Let me fill you in on what's up for the twenty-fifth.”

“When he does it again?”

“If we have a problem on the twenty-fifth.”

“Not "if." "When."”

“Both times it's been on a Saturday. Jacobis were on a full moon on a Saturday night. Leedses, day short of a full moon, but also Saturday night. This time, full moon falls on a Monday. He likes the weekend, so we're ready from Friday on.” Jack says confidently

“Ready? We're ready? Jack. you're not even head of the BAU anymore.”

“We have a Gulfstream standing by at Andrews Air Force Base. Y/N, Me, you, Zeller, Jimmy Price, a photographer and two people to do interrogations, soon as the call comes in, we're on our way. Anywhere in the East or South, we can be there in an hour.” Will nods, taking it in, then: “People are going to panic. Householders will shoot relatives coming home late. Prowler calls will multiply, so will useless tips.”

“Despair's going around like the flu. Families are frightened. If Lecter can deliver, he'd better do it in your next conversation.”

“He's not going to deliver.”

“He wanted you to meet the Dragon. He nudged you in that direction.”

“That nudge is a smokescreen for something much more coercive.”

“You said he knows this killer.”

“Think I can leach it out of him? Hannibal's never going to walk, no matter what. He could raise the dead and they wouldn't let him out. All that's left for him is fun. So that's what he's going to have.” Will shakes his head. 

FISHING CABIN - DAY-

Y/N as she comes out onto the porch, pulling on her coat. I had taken the day off. Brianna is yelling: “Mama! Mama!” I walk along the porch to find Brianna. “What? What?” She's squatting next to a couple of dogs lying on their sides. “Something's wrong with the dogs.”

VET'S OFFICE - DAY-

CLIENTS waiting with DOGS and PETS in carriers or on their laps. A RECEPTIONIST behind a small counter. SLAM! The exterior door flies open and everyone starts as Y/N and Brianna rush in, each of them carrying a sick dog. Brianna Cradling her Puppy, Sunny. 

“I got a lot of sick dogs here. There's more in the truck.” her urgency…

VET'S OFFICE - DAY-

Y/N is with a VETERINARIAN in a white smock coat. Brianna is in the background, watching as they talk behind the counter.

“They may have gotten into something they shouldn't have. Has there been any changes in their diet?” Y/N can feel Brianna's stare and tries to wrangle the guilt. “My husband usually makes their food from scratch. But Me and Him are in and out of town and it's a lot of work. So I've been feeding them canned food.”

“Was it canned food made in China?”

“Is it bad to be made in China?”

“If you're pet food. Dogs get poisoned by Chinese pet food all the time. Pet food safety isn't regulated the same way as human food. And it's barely regulated at all in China. There have been thousands of illnesses and deaths.” Y/N is mortified and Brianna, The poor sweet toddler is growing increasingly concerned for the lives of their dogs. “Thousands?”

“Thousands.” On the other side of the counter, peering over the top: “Are the dogs going to die?”

“No, they're not gonna– Are the dogs gonna die?” Y/N analyzes the woman. “No. You got them here fast and the activated charcoal should soak up whatever's in their system. But it'd be helpful if you brought me a sample of whatever they've been eating so we can run some tests.”

“I'll Have someone bring it by tomorrow.” The veterinarian smiles and puts a hand on Y/N's arm. “We'll keep the dogs overnight so we can monitor their recovery. They'll be fine.” Y/N as she nods her thanks. The veterinarian moves off and Y/N comes to Brianna.

“Are you going to tell Daddy?” The toddler tilts her head. “You know how I always said secrets were bad and you shouldn't keep secrets? Well, I have an amendment to that. And we're gonna keep this secret for now. Just you and me.”

“You want me to lie?” At times like this Y/N wishes her Daughter wasnt as smart as she is. “It's not a lie if you keep your mouth shut. Your dad has enough to worry about without worrying if I'm going to poison the dogs again.” Y/N walking Brianna toward the door, finds the FBI WARNING pinned to a cork board behind the counter. "Report immediately any pet mutilations to the FBI hotline." Fuck…..

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - NIGHT-

The moon shines down the oculus in Hannibal's cell, creating a spotlight of soft silver that we find HANNIBAL standing within. He raises a hand to the light, turning it slowly. “I'm not fortune's fool. I'm yours. "Behold the Great Red Dragon."”

“And did you?”

“I had a random encounter.”

“Randomness is nothing intrinsic. Simply a lack of information.”

“The Brooklyn Museum is closed to the public on Tuesdays, but researchers are admitted. You knew that's when we'd both be going.”

“A sophisticated intelligence can forecast many things. I suppose mine is sophisticated enough. You're so close to him now. You and the Dragon are doing the same things at various times of the day.” Hannibal turns and we RACK to find Will Graham beyond the glass, Hannibal becoming an unfocused reflection. “He's contacted you.”

“How do you imagine he's contacted me? Personal ads? Writing notes of admiration on toilet paper?”

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - NIGHT-

Hannibal and Will still face one another. “Alana thinks he's trying to stop.” Hannibal comes closer to the glass.

“To begin to understand the Dragon, to hear the cold drips in his darkness, Dr. Bloom would have to see things she could never see.” Hannibal moves back to the oculus and the beam of moonlight, stands in its glow and looks to Will in the shadows beyond.

“She would have to fly through time.”

FISHING CABIN - NIGHT-

Now comfortably wreathed in shadow. We follow his gaze from his vantage point in the trees to where Y/N and Brianna, having just gotten home, head from the car to the cabin.

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - NIGHT-

Will regards Hannibal, connections forming into certainty. “There is a family out there who don't know he's coming. We could save them. Tell me who he is.”

“I don't know who he is.” Will studies Hannibal -- he's telling the truth. “When you close your eyes, Will, is it your family you see?”

“How is he choosing them?”

“How he's choosing them is not how you'll catch him.” Hannibal Chuckles darkly,  “How?”

“Social media, I imagine. Can't be too careful with privacy settings.”

“Do you know who they are?”

“Yes.”

“You're willing to let them die.”

“I'm not letting them die, Will. You are.” Hannibal smirks, though who he chose, He would never sentence to death.

FISHING CABIN - NIGHT-

The full moon is bright and high in the sky. TRACK DOWN to the cabin silhouetted below, amid the snow and trees. Orange light burns in the windows. Flames from the fire flicker. Y/N and Brianna pass back and forth before the windows.

Reveal Dolarhyde. He watches them calmly. Patient now. The warm light from the house plays on his face. And then disappears as the lights go out.

DOLARHYDE A terrifying smile as he looks to the now-darkened cabin. It is almost time...moves around him until the moon seems to rest on his shoulder like a friend, sending him into silhouette.

FISHING CABIN - BEDROOM - NIGHT-

Y/N wakes up. Some sixth sense pinging in her brain. The darkness of the bedroom envelopes her, moonlight throwing shadows of the trees against the walls. Y/N looks to an alarm monitor on the wall, blinking a reassuring green.

The light goes dead. Fear slams into Y/N, which she controls. She peers into the darkness of the room, ears straining. As Y/N slides from the bed... Grabbing her Gun from her Nightstand.

FISHING CABIN - BRIANNA'S ROOM - NIGHT-

Brianna, asleep. Y/N rouses her gently, leaning in so she can see her. As he comes to, she puts her finger to her lips and Brianna nods.

Y/N motions her out of bed and quickly helps her into a coat and shoes, throwing tense glances toward the door. She moves to a window and pulls back the drapes, revealing a small dormer window set against the pitch of the roof.

Y/N carefully unlatches the window, as Brianna looks on, and slowly pushes it open. It jams on ice frozen in the frame. Y/N throws glances back toward the closed door, fighting her instincts. A CREAK from the stairs below. BLACK BOOTS Slowly come up the stairs.

Brianna Stares at Y/N in fear. The window frame stops moving, jammed. BLACK BOOTS Move along the hallway. Y/N Makes a snap decision and motions Brianna up and out. She helps her as she clambers onto the roof.

“Wait for me by the car. Count to a hundred. If you see anyone but me, run for the road.” Y/N Kisses her Daughters Head. “I love you so much.” The terrified toddler nods. “I love you too Mama.”

Y/N Turns as Brianna disappears from view. She has never felt so scared. Not since she was 16. Y/N as she turns back to the room and stops as a shadow passes by the crack beneath the door, moving toward her own bedroom.

As he moves down the hall toward Y/N's bedroom, his gun in his hand. Slowly, behind him, Brianna's door opens and  Y/N as she sees the intruder in her home. Dolarhyde moves toward Y/N's bedroom. Carefully, ever so carefully, Y/N exits Brianna's room and slides down the hallway behind Dolarhyde. Loading her Gun. 

FISHING CABIN - NIGHT- 

Brianna's feet land in the snow as he drops the last couple feet from the roof and runs for the cover of the car. He drops into a crouch behind the car and turns to watch the house.

In Y/N's bedroom as he realizes the bed is empty. He turns and runs back into the hallway, slams open Brianna's bedroom door and sees the open window.

On the stairs as she hears the sudden CLATTER of Dolarhyde's footsteps and she rushes for the living room, knowing he is right behind her. Y/N exits. Two seconds later, Dolarhyde's boots CLATTER down the stairs. he moves into the living room. He sweeps the dark room with his gun. Moving toward the front door.

FISHING CABIN - NIGHT-

Brianna hides behind Y/N's car, shivering as She counts: “Forty-seven, forty-eight…”

FISHING CABIN - UNDER THE PORCH - NIGHT-

 A log store door as it slowly opens. The log store is under the porch. 

Y/N carefully emerges, dirty with dust. She moves under the porch, using stacked piles of firewood as cover. Through the gaps in the wood, she can see her car. She cautiously makes her way to the nearest woodpile and peeks out. Gun at the ready.

Brianna, Behind the car. “Seventy-one, seventy-two…” Her small little voice shakes softly. Y/N moves from behind the logs and she catches Brianna's eye. Her face lights up. Y/N waves her to her.

Brianna nods, but then freezes and hides again! CREAK! Y/N to reveal Dolarhyde is now a dark shadow on the porch directly above her. Brianna cowers behind the car.

Y/N, desperate to reach her Little Daughter. Mind racing, ever aware of Dolarhyde's feet above, moving toward the car and Brianna. Brianna's face appears under the car and Y/N holdsup a hand: "Wait for me."

DOLARHYDE is Moving closer and closer to where Y/N's car is. Only a matter of time until he sees Brianna's footprints.

Y/N Beneath the porch as she hurls a branch out into the dark woods beyond the cabin. DOLARHYDE hears a sudden CLATTER behind him in the trees. Dolarhyde spins and runs back to the other end of the porch.

As Dolarhyde runs left to check out the sound, Y/N is moving right.

Y/N's waving her out from behind the car. Brianna hesitates, but Y/N waves her on. DOLARHYDE Raises a flashlight and, suddenly, a harsh beam of light illuminates the woods to the left of the cabin. He scans the trees, gun at the ready.

Behind Dolarhyde, Brianna runs to Y/N from behind the car, and she grabs her in a fierce embrace. She holds her like she’ll never let go. She wont fail her Daughter like she did her brothers, Like she did Abigail.

.

Brianna holds Y/N's gaze. Above them, the CREAK of footsteps as Dolarhyde comes back their way. Now what?

Y/N pulls the car alarm fob from her pocket. Shows it to Brianna. She nods, understanding. Clever Girl. She presses the button. BARP, BARP, BARP, BARP! The sudden blare and flash of the car alarm cut the silence.

DOLARHYDE comes charging along the porch, making for the car, lights flashing in the dark. His boots land hard in the snow and he moves for the car, noting the footprints leading from the house. He rushes behind the car to find – NOTHING. Enraged, he casts the flashlight across the ground -- and sees footprints leading back under the porch...

WOODS - NIGHT-

Y/N and Brianna run hard through the trees, breathing hard, leaving deep prints.

ROAD - NIGHT-

Headlights cutting through trees. Y/N and Brianna are running for the road and Y/N motions Brianna to stay back as she steps into the road, waving her arms, causing the car's DRIVER to slow and skid sideways in a SCREECH of brakes. The driver gets out, engine still running. Y/N is already herding Brianna toward the car.

“I almost killed you! What are you doing?”

“FBI! Get back in the car. We have to go.” She Flashes her Badge and Gun. She pushes Brianna before her, into the backseat, past the bewildered driver.

“What are you -- you can't just–” P-KEE. THE DRIVER as a bullet hits him in the head, dropping him to the ground in a spray of blood. Brianna screams. Y/N risks a look behind her to see Dolarhyde coming. Totally focused on survival, she steps over the dead driver and gets into the driver's seat of the car.

DRIVER'S CAR - NIGHT-

Y/N jumps in the driver's seat and jams it into reverse. Dolarhyde opens fire and the side windows explode. Y/N Shoots Back. One leg still hanging from the driver's-side door, Y/N hauls herself fully into the car as the momentum of her turn swings the door closed.

Y/N jams the car into drive, Dolarhyde now looming in the back window. “Get down!” Y/N hits the gas and the car wheels spin away down the road. Dolarhyde fires and the rear windshield explodes as bullets hit it.

Y/N screams as at least one bullet grazes her. The front windshield shatters as a slug hits it and Y/N's blood splashes across it. “Mama!”

“Shhh…Its okay Baby.” Relentless, Y/N keeps the car on the road and drives away… ...leaving Dolarhyde standing in the road, amid the aftermath, enraged at his failure. He looks to the sky and screams in frustration and rage as Y/N's taillights disappear into the distance...

HOSPITAL - WAITING ROOM - DAY-

A view through the door to where Jack is sitting slumped against a couch. He watches for a while, part of him wanting never to enter. And then he does. Jack looks up at Will, conflicting emotions flashing across his face, but he says nothing.

“She's in surgery now.” Will is Cradling his Daughter, her head lays on his shoulder. Intuitively Knowing That her Daddy needs more Comfort than she does. She lifts her head.  “Daddy is the bad man gonna try to get us again?”

“No Honey, We’re safe here.” He brushes hair out of her face. “Whats he want?”

“We don't know what he wants.

“Are you gonna kill him?” Will closes his eyes for a moment, His Daughter already has his and Y/N’s Mind, then: “No. I'm going to catch him. They'll put him in a mental hospital so they can treat him and keep him from hurting anybody else.”

Brianna Stares at her father. Noticing the tired anguish on his face. “When I married your Mama. I promised to keep Her safe. And keep you safe too..”

“One day I’ll catch the Bad guys too.” Brianna Says with a smile. Will Laughs softly.  “And you will be the best.”

“you shouldn't put the bad man in a mental hospital, you should kill him.” Brianna Kisses her Daddy’s Cheek and lays her head back down. Will studies His daughter. Kissing her head softly.

HOSPITAL - CORRIDOR - DAY-

Will lets Brianna Fall asleep. “Is she Alright? I’m sure everything was alot for her.”

“She seems alright. She is Wise beyond her age. I dont even know how. She always just knows. I mean shes Three…” Will is visibly seething, letting a little out now that he's not trying to put on a stiff upper lip for the Toddler. “She found a Freddie Lounds article About me. She didnt say anything. But i know.”

“Resentment's raising a blister in you, Will.”

“You think you might lose me after this, Jack? You think I might go back to my family?” Jack stares at Will -- is this a challenge? “For a minute, I did.”

“Then you realized what I realized: I can't go home, and neither can Y/N and Bri, never, until the Red Dragon is out of the way.”

“As soon as we can we'll put Brianna at my brother's house on the Chesapeake. Nobody in the world will know where they are but you, Me and Y/N.”

“Y/N's not going to want anything from you, Jack. She'd be glad to see you in hell with your back broken. She feels as though you keep walking over her position within the bureau.” The quiet delivery of this hits Jack harder than anything. Will exits, leaving Jack alone.

We bring up his own PULSE, loud in his head, as he slows and stop outside a hospital room. Y/N lies within, bloody dressings across her torso, her face scratched and bruised. Eyes closed. Tubes and IVs attached. The slow, steady BEEP of electronic monitoring. Will moves into the room and just stands.

Finally, he moves closer, takes the chair and sits. Y/N's hand rests atop the sheet and Will strokes it. Y/N is unmoving, the steady BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP of her pulse is the only sound. A tear splashes onto her hand. And then another. his head on Y/N's hand, silently sobbing as he takes in his brave wife. 

HOSPITAL - Y/N'S ROOM - NIGHT-

Y/N lies in her bed. Will asleep in the chair tucked under the television, Their Daughter Lay in his lap.

I watch Will a moment, a tear streaks my cheek. Will opens his eyes and we look at each other. Frank gazes, but the silence is awkward; so much love, guilt, rage. Will sets their daughter down and crosses to Y/N's side, taking her hand, kissing her gently across her face. “Hi honey…”

“Bri's safe. The dogs are safe. We're picking them up, bringing them in.” A weak smile, then: “You look exhausted.” I stroke his face softly. He laughs softly. I sigh. “I Shouldn’tve taken a day off. Bri wouldn't have had to-”

“Honey, you couldn't possibly take all the responsibility. He came after you and Bri because Hannibal suggested it, urged him to do it. Like he always does.” Will strokes my hair out of my face.  “He knew We’d make it out. He’s not an idiot, Will. He wouldn't have suggested it otherwise. It was a warning.”  I say knowingly,  “I know it was.”

“Bri almost died. Our Daughter almost died. I almost died. I knew it was him. I knew it was him. I saw our picture in that paper and I knew it was him.” She takes a deep breath and when she lets it out, the anger seems to go with it, leaving her tired and calm. “Hell, I got mad there for a second.”

“I hate this, Care. I'm sorry.”

“Will, I allowed Jack to pull you back into this. And I knew- I’m the one who is sorry. You will not apologize for something that I caused.” I Shake my head softly. He grabs my face. “Y/N….”

“Bri’s going into protective custody?” I ask softly, “Yes.” I study him, I can sense he's still very haunted. “Tough to hold onto anything good. It's all so slippery.”

“Slick as hell.”

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

As Will walks toward the glass. Hannibal regards him from the opposite side. PROFILE ANGLE -- the glass centers the FRAME, Will and Hannibal equidistant apart from it. “I'm just about worn out with you crazy sons of bitches.”

“The essence of the worst of the human spirit is not found in the crazy sons of bitches. Ugliness is found in the faces of the crowd.”

“What did you say to him?”

“"Save yourself. Kill them all." Then I gave him your home address.” Will stares at him a moment, wrapping his head around Hannibal's simple, unapologetic reply. “Always scheming toward hurt.”

“How is Y/N?”

“How's my wife? She's lucky.” 

“I Knew when i suggested it that they would get out- Y/N, Y/N is a very abnormal person. That's why she's so perfect for Us. She has a person suit. When you look at them now, what do you see?” Hannibal asks curiously, “You know what I see.”

“Before he became the Red Dragon, this shy boy would not have dared any of this.”

“Now he thinks he can do anything. Anything. Anything”. Will nearly sneers, “Fear brushes the walls of your chest, circling inside you like a bat in a house. Get hold of it.”

“The Dragon's gotten hold of his.”

“The Dragon likely thinks you're as much a monster as you think he is.”

“Is this a competition?”

“"Two souls, alas, are dwelling in my breast, and one is striving to forsake its brother." The Great Red Dragon is freedom to him, shedding his skin, the sound of his voice, his own reflection. The building of a new body and the othering of himself, the splitting of his personality, all seem active and deliberate. He craves change.”

LECTURE HALL - DAY-

BEDELIA DU MAURIER is on stage behind a podium, delivering an inspirational lecture to a capacity crowd.

“Day and evening again, the smell of fresh flowers and the vague awareness of a needle bleeding into me. Hannibal always stood at a distance, very still. There were days of talk. He never called me my name. It was strange at first, and then it wasn't strange. And then my name was Lydia Fell.” The audience watches rapt as Bedelia paces in front of a large Hieronymus Bosch mural.

“Deeply-felt truths of who I am as Bedelia Du Maurier were smoke and mirrors of the highest order.” In the rear of the theater, Bedelia can see WILL GRAHAM has just entered, quietly taking a seat on the aisle.

“What we take for granted about our sense of self, everything we see, everything we remember, is nothing more than a construct of the mind.” Bedelia walks down the aisle, placing a gentle hand on Will's shoulder as she passes, walking back toward the Bosch. He eyes her with an uneasy mix of skepticism and sympathy.

“Dante was the first to conceive of hell as a planned space. An urban environment. Before Dante, we spoke not of the "Gates of Hell," but the "Mouth of Hell." My journey of damnation began when I was swallowed by the beast.” She locks eyes with Will, and we –

MINUTES LATER

The lecture now over, people are filing toward the exit, past Bedelia who humbly accepts their congratulations, offers her thanks, shakes their hands. She closes the doors and turns. Will, who has patiently been waiting his turn, finally confronts Bedelia who puts on a friendly face.

“Poor Dr. Du Maurier, swallowed whole. Suffering inside Hannibal Lecter's bowels for what must have felt like an eternity. You didn't lose yourself, Bedelia, you just crawled so far up his ass you couldn't be bothered.”

“Hello, Will.” Will takes in the impressive space of Bedelia's lecture. “You hitched your star to a man commonly known as a monster. You're the Bride of Frankenstein.”

“We've both been his bride.”

“How did you manage to walk away unscarred? I'm covered with scars.”

“I wasn't myself. You were. Even when you weren't, you were.”

“I wasn't wearing adequate armor.”

“No. You were naked. Have you been to see him?”

“Yes.”

“Haven't learned anything, have you? Or did you just miss him that much?” Will considers, decides the question is rhetorical. “Have you been to see him?”

“I've seen enough of him. I was with him behind the veil. You were always on the other side.” The simplicity of that strikes Will. Bedelia gathers up her notes and her briefcase next to the podium. “Something we should talk about.”

“You'll have to make an appointment.” She heads off, out the doors and swallowed up by the crowd. OFF Will watching her go...

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

CAMERA PUSHES IN ON Hannibal as he writes at his worktable. He finishes the note and places it in an envelope addressed to: "Bedelia Du Maurier, c/o FBI."

BEDELIA'S HOME OFFICE - DAY-

Will is sitting opposite Bedelia in the patient's chair, which previously had been occupied only by Hannibal. “If he does end up eating you, Bedelia, you'd have it coming.”

“I can't blame him for doing what evolution has equipped him to do.”

“If we just do whatever evolution equipped us to do, then murder and cannibalism are morally acceptable.”

“They are acceptable. To murderers and cannibals. And you and your Wife.”

“And you. You lied, Bedelia. You do that a lot. Why do you do that a lot?”

“I obfuscate. Hannibal was never not my patient. Covert treatment suffers secrecy and disapproval.”

“Covert because Hannibal was an uncooperative patient?”

“Covert because I was a cooperative psychiatrist. "Do no harm."”

“And did you?”

“I did. Technically.”

“You dared to care.”

“Not the first time I've lost professional objectivity in a matter where Hannibal is concerned.” Will now sits across from Bedelia as she reminisces: “How is one patient worthy of compassion and not another?”

“I'm under no illusions how morally consistent my compassion has been. How is one murderer worthy of compassion and not another?”

“We're morally schizophrenic when it comes to Hannibal. And we both seem to keep getting away with it.”

“One of us is more scarred than the other. I was granted immunity from prosecution by the U.S. Attorney. Not a good way to learn a lesson.”

“All that time you were with Hannibal behind the veil, you'd already killed one patient, ever occur to you to kill another?”

“My relationship with Hannibal isn't as passionate as yours. You are here visiting an old flame. Are You aware how intimately your Wife and Hannibal know each other?” Bedelia tilts her head in curiosity, In italy, Many times she had found herself in conversation about Y/N. Hannibal always seemed infatuated? No. not the word she'd use. “I am Very aware.”

“You couldn't save Hannibal. Do you think you can save this new one?” Will is struck by the question, but doesn't answer. “Your experience of Hannibal's attention is so profoundly harmful, yet so irresistible, it undermines your ability to think rationally.”

Bedelia and Will, as before. “You're walking down the street and you see a wounded bird in the grass. What's your first thought?”

“It's vulnerable, I want to help it.”

“My first thought is also that it's vulnerable. Yet I want to crush it. A primal rejection of weakness which is every bit as natural as the nurturing instinct. Of course, I wouldn't crush it, but my first thought would be to do just that.”

BEDELIA'S HOME OFFICE - DAY-

Bedelia and Will, as before. “One thing Hannibal taught me is the alchemy of lies and truths. It's how he convinced you you're a killer. How convinced he is that your Wife is one.”

“You're not convinced?”

“You're not a killer. You're capable of righteous violence because you are compassionate. And your Wife….Well Dr. Y/N Graham-L/N is another thing entirely. She speaks as though you both put the stars in the sky.”

“How are you capable?”

“Extreme acts of cruelty require a high degree of empathy. The next time your instinct is to help someone, you should really consider crushing them instead. You might save yourself some trouble.”

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

Hannibal is studying a photograph of the symbol found at the Jacobi house as he and Will converse through the glass. “It was done carefully and cleanly, with a very sharp knife. It was not the work of a child.”

“It's a Chinese character which means, "You hit it," an expression sometimes used in gambling.”

“A lucky sign. The character also appears on a mahjongg piece. Marks the Red Dragon.”

"And behold a great red dragon..." Will eyes Hannibal for a moment, knowing tricks and manners. “Are you familiar with William Blake's The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun? Blake's Dragon stands over a pleading woman caught in the coil of its tail. Few images in Western art radiate such a unique and nightmarish charge of demonic sexuality.”

“The man who killed the Jacobis and the Leedses saw something in them that drew him and drove him to do it. He chose them because something in them spoke to him.”

“The Jacobis were the first to help him, the first to lift him into the Glory of his Becoming. The Jacobis were better than anything he knew.”

“Until the Leedses.”

“As the Dragon grows in strength and Glory, there are families to come.”

“I have to believe there is a common factor and we'll find it soon.”

“Otherwise you have to enter more houses and see what the Dragon has left for you. Eleven days to the next full moon. Tick-tock. I like this Dragon, Will. I don't think he's crazy at all. I think he may be quite sane. A magnificent thing, to watch the world through his red haze.”

BROOKLYN MUSEUM - MAIN LEVEL - DAY-

Will Graham is led by a TOUR GUIDE toward the elevator bank. “This way, Mr. Graham. You know, you're the second person who's asked to see the Blake today.” At that, Will grows anxious.

BROOKLYN MUSEUM - BASEMENT - DAY-

The GREAT RED DRAGON stands in the aisle where Dolarhyde once stood, back flexing, wings extending as it appears in The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun. We hear a trumpet blast of Dragon's ROAR and --

Dolarhyde, now wearing Grandmother's dentures, stares at the watercolor. It's unsettling. He opens his mouth and bites into the painting, tearing off the Red Dragon's head. In a surreal effect, his HEAD CONTORTS between seven different head positions, each time ripping another piece of the Great Red Dragon off and chewing.

A piece gets stuffed into his furiously-gnashing jaws. Dolarhyde stuffing the last of the painting into his mouth, swallowing it down. He stands there a moment, blood pumping, exhilarated. And then the DING of the arriving elevator at the end of the hall.

AT THE BASEMENT ELEVATOR The doors open and Will follows the tour guide out and down the aisle, past racks of paintings stored there. “Wait here. Paula, I have another visitor for the Great Red Dragon.”

The DING of the elevator doors behind him draws Will's attention. He turns to see the elevator doors open. Curious, he approaches with no particular urgency. The closer he gets, he starts to see a foot peeking out from just inside the doors, who it belongs to still obstructed. “Paula? Paula.”

The concern in the tour guide's voice causes Will to turn his head as the elevator doors begin to close. He glances back as the doors slide closed, and gets a brief look at Dolarhyde Inside.

Will glimpses Dolarhyde's cleft palate, and glimpses his averted eyes, only now glancing back above the brow and making eye contact. Will rushes the closing doors, catching the rubber release bar and sending the doors opening again. 

Before Will can calibrate, Dolarhyde snatches him by the collar with a startling power. Dolarhyde slams Will into the roof of the elevator car and violently back down to the floor. BAM. BAM. And then tosses him right back out the doors.

Will slides to a stop outside the elevator, bloodied and bruised and dazed. Dolarhyde stares passionately back at Will as he presses the elevator's "CLOSE" button. Will tries to get to his feet, but is too wounded and slips briefly before finding his footing as the elevator doors close.

BROOKLYN MUSEUM - MAIN LEVEL - DAY-

An alarm is RINGING. Will clamors out a stairwell door, beat to hell; he runs into the main hall, desperately searching for any sign of Dolarhyde. He's gone. Slightly battered, but cleaned up. “He ate a painting.”

BAU - DR. Y/N GRAHAM-L/N'S OFFICE - DAY-

Y/N slams her door shut. Will and ALANA steel themselves for the coming storm. “Ate it?”

“Ate it up. The Art Squad in New York snapped to it when they found out what he ate. It's rarely displayed. Two-hundred-year-old watercolor. Light fades it.” I roll my eyes and sigh. “They got two partial prints off the plastic pass he used. No ID, but it's the same thumb that was on Mrs. Leeds's eye.” I explain, “What about the docent at the museum?”

“He had a sweet touch with her. She had to have four stitches. Mild concussion, but he didn't kill her.” Will says, Alana furrows her brows, “Why not? Would've been real easy.”

“He would have been better off to kill her. And you. Could have saved himself a description or two.” I say as i run a hand through my hair.

“Maybe he's trying to stop.” That notion lands with Will as he considers. “You think there's any way to push him to be self-destructive?” I ask them, “Push him toward suicide?”

“Suicide suits me just fine.” I say as i crack my neck, With a deep sigh. “If he's really trying to stop, he's not going to kill himself. How could he be sure his death would affect whatever's inside him?”

“You can tell something about him or you wouldn't have found him.” I say knowingly, I know my Husband. 

“Watching my cork move against the current. You got me again. Hannibal told me where to find him.” Will says as I nod softly. “Interesting. What do you think?” 

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

the wall of secure glass, DRIFTING THROUGH one of the many holes that dot its surface, to find: HANNIBAL LECTER. He lies on his cot, asleep, his head propped on a pillow against the wall. Alexandre Dumas's Grand Dictionnaire de Cuisine is open on his chest. Eyes still closed, he takes a long slow breath through his nose, smelling the current of air. He opens his eyes.

“That's the same atrocious aftershave you wore in court.” Hannibal rises from the bed and approaches the wall as he is now standing face to face with WILL in profile; the thin line of glass between them makes it look as if they are disparate reflections in a mirror. 

“Hello, Hannibal.” I adjust Brianna on my Hip. she lays her head on my shoulder. “Hello, Did you Two get my note?”  My brows furrow, I stroke Brianna’s Hair

“I got it. Thank you.” Will says tightly, “Did you read it before you destroyed it? Or did you simply toss it into the nearest fire?” Hannibal Tilts his head. “I read it. And then I burned it.” Will says plainly, I look at him. 

“And you came anyway. I'm glad you came. My other callers are all professional. Banal psychiatrists and grasping second-raters. Pencil-lickers trying to protect their tenure with pieces in the journals.” He sighs, his gaze moving from Will, to his wife and daughter.

“I want you to help us, Dr. Lecter.”

“Yes, I thought so. Are we no longer on a first-name basis?”

“I'm more comfortable the less personal we are.” Hannibal regards Will. His nostrils flare as he takes in the scents coming through the holes in the glass.

“Your hands are rough. I smell dogs and pine and oil beneath that shaving lotion. And your daughter. She eats alot of Raspberries doesnt she.” Hannibal turns his Gaze to me and Bri. 

“Uh huh, I really like raspberries!” Brianna Answers when she hears Hannibal talk about her. Will Strokes her hair and smiles at her before turning back to hannibal.

“I'm here about Chicago and Buffalo. You've read about it, I'm sure.”

“I've read the papers. I can't clip them. They won't let me have scissors, of course. You want to know how he's choosing them.” He smiles amused. “Thought you would have some ideas.” I show the case files in hand, I let Bri down.

“You just came here to look at me. Came to get the old scent again. Why don't you just smell yourself?”

“I expected more of you, doctor. That routine is old hat.”

“Whereas you are a new man. Are you a good father, Will?” Before Will can reply, “I love my Daddy!” His daughter shouts. Hannibal smiles warmly at the child. “Let me have the file. An hour, and we can discuss it like old times.” Will pushes the file through the document tray, into the cell. Hannibal comes close to collect it.

“Thank you.”

“Family values may have declined over the last century, but we still help our families when we can. You three are family” A moment of sudden emotion for Hannibal he cannot name washing over him. He swallows it down and walks away.

BSHCI - ALANA BLOOM'S OFFICE - DAY-

ALANA and Will take seats in the "living area" of her office. “It's good to see you looking so well, Will. But I can't help wishing you weren't here.”

“Wishing and hoping.”

“How did it feel to see him again?”

“Like Hannibal was looking through to the back of my skull. Felt like a fly flitting around in there.” Alana understands all too well. “I had the absurd feeling that he walked out with me. Had to stop outside the doors and look around, make sure I was alone.”

“I know that feeling. At least Jack Crawford's pleased. I imagine Y/N is not.” Alana Knows how displeased Y/N is with the whole situation. “He showed me pictures of the families. I looked at Y/N and Brianna and couldn't say no.”

“And Jack was counting on it.”

“Are you still with Margot?”

“Yes. We have a baby. A Verger baby. A son.”

“Good for Margot.”

“Good for me. I carried him. He's my son. He's the Verger heir.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“There are only five doors between Hannibal and the outside. And I have the keys to every one of them. Hannibal has never been great with boundaries. "He who sups with the Devil needs a long spoon."” She shows her keys. “I am not letting him in, Alana. Don't worry about me.”

“Last time, it didn't end with you.” Bars CLANG behind him as he walks toward a pair of elegant double doors. A BUZZER sounds and the doors open automatically and dramatically to reveal we are 

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

Will and Y/N approach the cell wall. Beyond it, Hannibal sits at his plain, bolted-down desk, studying the files, centered in the otherwise-empty room. MUSIC playing. He looks up at Will and Y/N beyond the glass, waiting.

“This is a very shy boy, Will. I'd love to meet him.” On the other side of the glass, Will is now standing in --

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - DAY-

Hannibal is dressed in a plaid three-piece suit, standing above his desk, across from Will And Y/N, The glass wall between them gone. “I'm sure you would.”

“Have you considered the possibility that he's disfigured? Or that he may believe he's disfigured?”

“That's interesting.” Will says in a unenthusiastic tone. 

“That's not interesting. You thought of that before.” Hannibal notes, his eyes Gazing at Y/N. 

“He smashed all the mirrors in the houses, not just enough to get the pieces he wanted. The shards are set so he can see himself. In their eyes. Mrs. Jacobi and Mrs. Leeds. And their families.” I say as Hannibal pulls a picture of dead MRS. JACOBI from the file.

“Could you see yourself in their eyes, Will? Killing them all?” Will's image reflected inside. the mirror shards have been  placed in Mrs. Jacobi. We are --

JACOBI HOUSE - BEDROOM - DAY-

Mrs. Jacobi lies in blood-soaked sheets pooling around her to create the billowing shapes of angel wings and flowing robes that were painted gold in Blake's The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun, but here are crimson. Will and Hannibal stand over Mrs. Jacobi in her bed, taking the position of the Great Red Dragon in the aforementioned Blake illustration.

“The first small bond to the killer itches and stings like a leech.” Hannibal and Will glance at the broken mirrors of the bedroom -- Will looking at himself in the fractured shards. “Like you, Will, he needs a family to escape what's inside him.”

JACOBI HOUSE - GREAT ROOM - DAY-

Mirrors are broken and bloody footprints mark the floor as it was after the murders. Will regards the room as Hannibal picks up the fallen shard of mirror, examining it. “You know a fair amount about how these families died. How they lived is how he chooses them.”

“How is he choosing them?” I ask with a tilted head.

“How did you two choose each other? You both have made an extraordinary child. Something you both were afraid of was passing on the traits you both want to suppress. Lets just hope little Brianna Can handle what she’s been given.” Hannibal moves to the glass as if he might step through it. Will stares holes at the back of his head.

“Why are there no descriptions of the grounds? I see floor plans, diagrams of the rooms where the deaths occurred, no mention of the grounds. What were the yards like?”

CHICAGO, IL - JACOBI HOUSE - BACKYARD - NIGHT-

Will and Hannibal now in the moonlit backyard. “Big, fenced, with trees. Why?”

“If this pilgrim feels a special relationship with the moon, he might like to go outside and look at it before he tidies himself up. If one were nude, say, it would be better to have outdoor privacy for that sort of thing. One must show some consideration for the neighbors, hmmmm?” Hannibal turns his gaze from Will to the moon.

“Have you ever seen blood in the moonlight, Will?” Will raises a hand so that it's silhouetted against the moon.

“It appears quite black.” When Will lowers his hand again... 

BALTIMORE STATE HOSPITAL FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE - DAY-

Will And Y/N exit the building and comes down the stairs, files tucked under his arm. Head down. Deep in thought. As he passes the hospital's main sign, he is frozen as a camera shutter CLICKS. REVERSE to find FREDDIE LOUNDS, bundled against the cold, smiling past a long lens.

BSHCI - HANNIBAL LECTER'S CELL - DAY-

Hannibal's hands are through the hatch and shackled. Alana is in the cell behind him, at the table, glancing through the drawings. TWO ORDERLIES stand nearby.

“Have you come to wag your finger?”

“I love a good finger-wagging.” 

“Yes, you do. How is Margot?” Alana allows the remark to glance off her without a flinch, glancing at the picture of her as Botticelli's Fortitude. “Your cogs are turning, Hannibal. I can hear them clicking.” “Click, click, click, boom.”

“I don't know what you're planning with Will Graham. But you're planning something. Why wouldn't you be? You've already cracked the lid, can't resist peeling it back.” Alana says, but oh if she only knew, He would change that whole family.  “Will came to me.”

“Yes, he did.”

“I advised him against it.”

“I'm sure.”

“Are you suggesting I don't have Will's best interests in mind?”

“I'm stating it as fact.”

“You've got Will dressed up in moral dignity pants, nothing's his fault.”

“I've been courteous and you've been receptive to courtesy. But these niceties are conditional. And the conditions are nonnegotiable.”

“I must behave myself.”

“I know what you're afraid of. It's not pain or solitude. It's indignity. You're like a cat that way. I'll take your books, I'll take your drawings, I'll take your toilet.” The orderlies safely out of the cell, Alana steps forward and unshackles Hannibal's wrists.

 “You'll have nothing but indignity and the company of the dead.” ON HANNIBAL watching Alana walk away. As he turns back to his cell…

BAU - EVIDENCE PROCESSING - NIGHT-

JIMMY PRICE, BRIAN ZELLER, Y/N and Will  surround the shoebox. Zeller lifts the lid revealing a DEAD CAT wrapped in a towel, a dead flower between its paws. “Found it behind the Jacobis' garage. Flower between its paws, wrapped in a dish towel, strangled.”

“The sonofabitch.”

“You're more upset by the cat than the children.” 

“I am particularly fond of cats, and not particularly fond of children.” Jimmy glares at zeller, I snort. Will smiles at me and then asks, “What about the Leeds' dog?” Zeller nods and looks at the chart. “It had a puncture wound in its abdomen. Vet operated and the dog's all right. He thought it was shot at first, but they didn't find a bullet. Thinks it was stabbed with an ice pick or an awl.”

“The sonofabitch.”

“He feels compelled to hurt the victims' pets before he comes to Kill the family” Will points out. “Eliminates an early-warning system. He's not just getting off a bus. He's got a plan. He stays in town overnight. He knows where he's going a day or two ahead. He's got some kind of idea. Case the place, kill the pet, then the family.” I say crossing my arms. Its strange being my Husband’s boss. 

“If the killer read a warning in the newspapers, he would probably change his method of casing a house. We should send a private bulletin to veterinarians and animal shelters, asking for immediate reports on animal mutilations.” Will looks to me, I nod at my husband. “Buffalo and Chicago are four states apart. And nothing has been found to link these two families.”

“They were both happy.”

JACOBI HOUSE - BACKYARD - DAY-

Will stands in the backyard. Looking for something, but not sure what, following an instinct. Hannibal's words playing on his mind. Will notes the door to the garage, deadbolted, heavy and secure. He turns and looks down the private backyard. Something nagging at his mind.

He slowly walks toward the trees. Climbs over the wire fence, into the trees beyond. Steps back among them. Watching the ground carefully. He sees – An APPLE CORE gnawed to the core. Withered. Amid a denser stand of brush.

He steps carefully around it, pushes branches back to reveal a hollow in the brush: like a hunting blind. In there is a rotted log lying on one side. He pushes his way into the hunting blind and bags the partially frozen, rotting apple. He sits on the log and looks though the foliage at the Jacobi house. Will sees the nub of a branch has been cleanly cut away to better reveal a view of the Jacobi house.

Sitting where the killer sat, Will sees a patch of bark on a tree trunk where bark has been shaved away, size of a playing card. Centered in it: A CRYPTIC CARVED SYMBOL (mah-jongg symbol of the Red Dragon) A rectangle with a vertical line through the middle. Done carefully with a sharp knife.

“I sat here. And I watched them…” Movement catches his eye, a FLASH OF COLOR, and he sees: FREDDIE LOUNDS. Will, carrying the apple core in an evidence bag, intercepts Freddie. He meets her at the wire fence. “Now are you just keeping America clean or is that evidence?”

“You're trespassing, Freddie.” Will glares, “I was trespassing before the blood dried. When did they call you in?”

“I'm not talking to you.”

“We're coconspirators, Will. I died for you and your cause.” 

“You didn't die enough. You came into my hospital room while I was asleep. You flipped back the sheets and shot a picture of my temporary colostomy bag. You’re lucky Y/N was not there.” Will warns, “Covered your junk with a black box. A big black box. You're welcome.”

“You called us Y/N’s "murder husbands."” Will states incredulously. 

“You did run off to Europe together. How does the Tooth Fairy compare to Hannibal Lecter? Haven't seen anything like this since the Massacre at Muskrat Farm. Funny thing about that massacre. Not only did Dr. Bloom survive, she got rich. Lecter's living in the lap under her care. What kind of arrangement you suppose they have?” Freddie raises her brows in amusement.

“A complicated one.”

“Couldn't be more complicated than your relationship with Hannibal. You paid him a visit? Before you lie, know that I know that you did. You and Your Wife. and you brought your child. What a Twisted little family.” She smiles. 

“Good-bye, Freddie.” Will starts to walk away. She calmly starts narrating the article she's writing, to keep his attention: "Federal manhunters, stymied in their search for the Tooth Fairy, have turned to the most savage killer in captivity for help. 'It takes one to catch one,' a federal official told this reporter."

WILL GRAHAM

“"Takes one to catch one"? You referring to me or Hannibal Lecter?”

FREDDIE LOUNDS

“I'll let my readers decide. If you're smart, you'd use me. All psychopaths are narcissists. They love to read about themselves.”

GATEWAY - BREAK ROOM - DAY-

Dolarhyde sits alone, reading the issue of TattleCrime. Titled: "INSANE FIEND CONSULTED IN MASS MURDERS BY AGENT HE TRIED TO KILL." There are two pictures above the sidebar. One shows Hannibal Lecter pinned against the side of a state trooper's car at the time of his arrest. 

The other is the picture of Will Graham and Dr. Y/N Graham-L/N, taken by Freddie Lounds outside the BSHCI. A small photograph of Freddie Lounds runs beside her byline.

FISHING CABIN - BEDROOM - NIGHT(MARE)-

Will wakes and turns, seeing the other pillow silhouetted andY/N lying beside him, bitten and torn, mirrored eyes and blood over her temples and ears.

Like Mrs. Jacobi, Y/N lies in blood-soaked sheets pooling around her to create the billowing shapes of angel wings and flowing robes that were painted gold in Blake's The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun, the mirrors in her eyes and mouth reflecting a FANTASTIC GLOW.

Will naked, standing over Y/N, taking the position of the Red Dragon in the Blake illustration, covered in blood. Blood-soaked sheets give him great wings.

HOTEL - THE GRAHAM'S ROOM - NIGHT-

A soaked Will Graham bolts awake, startled by the wetness, throwing back the sheets which appear to be blood-soaked until he turns on the lamp next to the bed, revealing… ...the sheets are only damp with perspiration. Y/N groaning softly in her sleep. The Leeds' dog stares back at him inscrutably from the couch.

Will rises from the bed, his heart pounding, peeling off his damp T-shirt as he crosses into:

HOTEL - THE GRAHAM'S BATHROOM - NIGHT-

He throws the wet T-shirt into the bathtub and grabs a towel, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His face appears broken, but the glass is smooth, and we reveal it is Will's face that is FRACTURED and CRACKED. A blink and Will's face is normal, nothing cracked but his mind.

HOTEL - THE GRAHAM’S ROOM - NIGHT-