if I were an article writer I would write an article called “everything wrong with hannibal (2013-2015)” but then the only thing on the list would be that time when francis dolarhyde described will as “not very handsome”
maybe 2 things on the list. the other being that hannibal didnt smack him then and there
this interview is still haunting my daily life and it’s been 3 fucking years
I thought I was an idiot because the first time I interpreted that way too, that Bedelia cut off her leg herself. And now I read that that was the interpretation of people in general.
After rewatching that scene many times I noticed other things that changed my mind and I felt stupid for thinking that Bedelia could have done that to herself.
XD
I’m ok with the two interpretations, btw, the important thing is that it’s not just one of them that survived.
But wasn’t the table set for three in this scene? Or did I imagine that?
Yes. For me that was what changed my mind about the ending. Hannibal and Will did that, I don’t know when, probably way after the fall, maybe years. But that’s my idea.
Ooooh I like the idea of it being years later….
I always figured it was at least a year later. She’s in her own home too, which meant she felt safe there, believed they were dead. She’s also looks slightly drugged, so assumedly she’s just come round from the anaesthetic to find herself nicely gift-wrapped and awaiting her companions.
My big takeaway from that scene though was, where are Will and Hannibal?
Dinner is served, the table is set. Is Will just helping Hannibal bring in the side dishes or are they, as several people have suggested, just taking a moment or two in the kitchen, drinking a glass of wine? Will pressed against the counter top, between Hanni’s thighs, smirking and still wearing an oven mit?
So there was this one time in Mischa’s early twenties.
She’s just started living on her own. Hannibal is still a medical student so they’re in France. Mischa has forgone university at this point (oh boy that was an argument. ooooh boyyyy. But that’s another story for another time.) So she’s holding down some part time jobs, honing her skills, living her life. She’s even made friends.
And Hannibal thinks now’s a good time to test his level of control over her.
Which is precisely when one of Mischa’s friends goes missing. And Mischa is particular about friends. There are friends for company, friends for manipulation, and friends for..practice. Hannibal obviously knows Mischa’s particularities. The friend that went missing was one for company. She knows almost immediately. She’s been missing for just under 48 hours and Mischa knows.
And Mischa is angry.
I know what you’re thinking. So she goes and finds maybe one of the residents at the medical school Hannibal goes to and picks the ones he respects and makes sure they never see the light of day again?
But see, Mischa isn’t angry at the residents. Mischa is a single-minded individual. And Mischa knows her brother. And she knows he wouldn’t particularly mind losing a valuable teacher. Oh, he might be mildly annoyed. But mild annoyance is not what Mischa wants.
Hannibal values his reputation and intelligence above everything.
So on his first solo surgery Mischa finds the operating room he’ll be working in and messes with the equipment. The surgery fails spectacularly.
And guess who is waiting in the observation room like a good supportive sibling? Mischa just smiles when she notices the suction seems to be failing in actually draining away any blood. And all the other interns are of course observing as well. It’s not exactly Mischa’s fault that she accidentally hit the comm button so Hannibal could hear some of them snickering. Is it?
No worries the patient didn’t die. The residents on call figured out what was wrong in time to correct it, naturally. But it was months before Hannibal was able to get cleared to preform surgery again.
When that day came Mischa sent him over a card congratulating him, and taped on the inside was the missing piece of the medical equipment she broke the last time. And it just said “For luck.”
And THAT is why we don’t fuck around with Mischa Lecter
So this is for the Fic War prompt. Prag wanted fic of Will and Mischa becoming besties and then it all ending. So I don’t think it’s accurate to show them first meeting, but rather have a scene where I’ve headcanoned that they realize they’ve become one another’s best friends.
I. Time Change
At first Mischa was annoyed at the sound of her phone ringing. She put down her book and reached for her cell that she kept lying on the coffee table across from her couch. When she saw who it was annoyance quickly melted away into unexpected delight. She answered the call and switched it over to speakerphone and let the phone rest back on the table.
“It’s midnight you know.”
“What? Oh. East Coast. I’m back West. It’s only nine.”
“Road trip?”
“Yeah.”
“And you didn’t even think to invite me?” Mischa took a sip from her tea and placed a bookmark against the page in the book she had been reading moments ago.
“You’ll only say no.”
“How do you know?”
“Hours stuck in an old car, sleeping in cheap motels, eating junk food for every meal, you want me to go on?”
“You paint a vivid enough picture. Where are you?”
“Arizona.”
“Why the hell are you in Arizona, Will? There’s absolutely nothing in Arizona.”
“Change of pace.”
Mischa laughed and for a time there was only silence on the other end of the line. “Why did you call, Will?”
“No reason. The night sky here is something else. What are you up to?”
“Reading.”
“Anything good?”
“Not particularly, no.”
Silence again. Mischa smiled. She was sitting cross legged, starring at the phone. “Hey,” Will said, “I was thinking I would stop by New York on my way back.”
“You’d better,” Mischa replied. “I still owe you a drink from last time.”
“I might hold you to that.”
“Okay, I’m going to go. You should sleep. I’ll call back when I remember not to fuck up the time change.”
“You know I don’t sleep. I don’t mind.”
“Yes you do. Stop lying to make me feel better. Good night, Mischa.”
“‘Night, Will.”
II. Knowing
“You’ve seen the news, I take it.”
“Yes.”
It was hard to be calm. Mischa kept fidgeting in her chair. Normally she was so at ease with Will. But they had both heard the news. Hannibal had escaped. What Will did not know was that he had been standing in the very same spot Will was currently pacing around. That had been five days ago. But Mischa still felt his presence like an itch in the back of her mind.
“He’s not liable to go after you,” she said.
“I wonder how you know that, Mischa, I really do.”
“I know my brother.”
It had come out so simply. Mischa hadn’t even thought of what she had just said. That was precisely the problem with Will Graham. She never thought about what she said or did. Actions came organically as if from a true sense of self. Mischa didn’t look up. Her eyes focused on the back wall behind Will, but her eyes were wide. She knew. She knew that in that second that Will knew too.
The click of a gun brought her focus round. Will had pulled out his pistol and was aiming it at her head. “Will,” her voice was all control. It was distant in her own ears.
“You knew?” His voice was spilled over with abandon.
“That’s not what I meant, I only—”
“You knew?!”
“You’re panicking. I know that. That’s alright, Will. You can stay here for as long as you like, you know. We’ll be left alone. Actually with the FBI monitoring my every movement I’m probably a walking safe zone,” Mischa’s laughter felt hollow.
“And just why hasn’t your brother killed you yet? He’s killed everyone who ever suspected. Why would he…” Will’s voice trailed off as his eyes widened. He reaffirmed his aim. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “God damnit. Damnit. You’re like him.”
“Stop it,” Mischa snapped. “Put the gun down and stop it.”
“Have you been keeping tabs on me for him?” Will asked. “Is that what we’ve been doing this entire time? Waiting around for him to escape so he could finish the job?”
“I thought we were friends.” That plea came from a well of emotion Mischa was not aware she had. A rawness overcame her. Something still remaining to her that was human moved under the skin. It was childish. It would be. That was the last time she was ever human.
“We are,” Will looked like he might shout at her again, or cry. Mischa wasn’t sure if she was confusing him with her own sympathy.
“How many people have you killed?” Will whispered.
“You have no proof,” Mischa said. “I’m sorry, Will. I’m so sorry. I won’t give you proof.”
“Damnit, Mischa. Damnit.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Are you going to shoot me?”
“No,” Will finally said, lowering the gun. “No. I’m leaving. Don’t follow me. Don’t contact me. Don’t look for me. I’m walking out of here and I’m not going to the FBI with this. That’s the last thing I’ll do for you. As your friend.”
“Will, please just listen to me.”
“Don’t try to find me. That’ll be the last you do as my friend. You’ll leave me alone. Get it? You’ll leave me be.”
Mischa didn’t make a move as she watched Will go for the door to her apartment. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “Will. I’m sorry, truly. For everything. Believe me.”
“I’m sorry too, Mischa,” Will said, “but I don’t believe a damn word you’re saying.”
The door slammed shut behind him and Mischa winced. She glanced fervently around the empty apartment, feeling her heart race. It had been a long time since her heart had beat that fast. It came back down to a normal pace quickly, leaving her numb. She took in a breath and let it out slowly.
And then for the first time since she had been five years old, Mischa put her hands over her face and cried.
"Technically, you killed him." 