[Ben watches carefully, of course, because while that was not the point of his being here, of giving her the file, of anything, he needs information. Not all of it is contained in the folder in Abigail's hands, not the parts Ben needs to know most, not the spaces in between and behind lines. The events, the frame, the bullet points, the play by play, but not who Abigail is.
Whatever Hannibal left behind of her. Something in Ben's chest burns cold and for a moment it's visible through his expression, backlit behind his eyes, something cool and sharp and predatory. He knows who Abigail means.]
Yes.
[There are a dozen things he wants to add onto the end of that, threats and promises and questions, but Hannibal is sunk into the core of her now as Manticore is forever branded on Ben. He can't just be ripped free. He must be finessed into manageable compartments that Abigail can drop over the side as she goes, manageable pieces to leave behind her as she outgrows them. It will take time. Ben can give her that.
And see what she wants him to do about his answer, here and now, of course.]
no subject
Whatever Hannibal left behind of her. Something in Ben's chest burns cold and for a moment it's visible through his expression, backlit behind his eyes, something cool and sharp and predatory. He knows who Abigail means.]
Yes.
[There are a dozen things he wants to add onto the end of that, threats and promises and questions, but Hannibal is sunk into the core of her now as Manticore is forever branded on Ben. He can't just be ripped free. He must be finessed into manageable compartments that Abigail can drop over the side as she goes, manageable pieces to leave behind her as she outgrows them. It will take time. Ben can give her that.
And see what she wants him to do about his answer, here and now, of course.]