Chapter Text
There isn't much to do in Hannibal's cell other than read, write, sleep, and consume the below subpar food they serve to him.
In much more dire circumstances, he resorts to reading his mail. Most of it is garbage but the other half, composed of letters filled with admiration or even love letters, proves to be a decent way of passing the time.
They are simple, and follow a formula or pattern Hannibal has discovered through reading piles of them. First, they introduce how much they are a fan of his. Second, they start talking about themselves and what makes them worthy of Hannibal's attention. Next, they more or less pity him for being caught, how Hannibal's potential was cut short by the FBI. Lastly, they state either the methods of their own murders and liken them to his tableaus, or praise him as a god for his kills.
It feeds his ego, makes him preen like a peacock. It's why he enjoys reading them, although denies being much of a narcissist.
This letter, however, does not follow that formula at all. It doesn't start with a "Dear" or even mention his stage name. It begins abruptly, like tapping into one's stream of consciousness.
You do not know me, but I know you. A terrifying prospect, I'm sure. I know you down to your roots, where you start and where you end. Your becoming.
You do not know me. But I formally invite you to.
Signed, W.
It was short, vague, and implied he must reply. A shame that he is not allowed to. If given the opportunity, he would not hesitate to pull out a piece of paper and begin writing back.
He examines the letter further, finding it written on cheap paper and mailed in a similarly cheap envelope. Hannibal is charmed, however, when he finds that the stationary don't smell like a bookstore and rather carry the scent of canines, pine, and an atrocious scent he cannot place.
It is is peculiar, however, that this admirer of his chose to say that they knew his becoming. Hannibal wonders what that may mean, and entail. Memories of blood-stained snow and cold winters fly past him. It's not possible, Hannibal thought. This admirer could not possibly know of Mischa.
He recalls the number of people he knows with a name that starts with a W. It is not much, and most are fleeting acquaintances who were horribly rude to him. In the end, he fails to remember anyone significant.
Although, he cannot reply, he feels that this admirer will contact him again, regardless of a response.
-
Hannibal was right. The letter, written and sent in the same paper and envelope, arrived just about three days later (if his sense of time is correct).
He opens it delicately, careful not to rip the paper, and handles the short piece of stationary with care.
A shame that you can't reply. I'll admit it was an oversight on my part, I should have inquired further.
It starts, and Hannibal suspects this admirer has connections in the BSHCI; it implies this admirer lives close-by. Hannibal's pulse races.
A little birdie told me you are entertaining yourself with your mail. Has incarceration finally gotten to you?
Tell me, Dr. Lecter, do your hands itch for a knife? To turn these pigs that hold you in this cell into art?
They display you like you're an animal in a zoo. Tasteless.
There is no point in declawing a tiger, whose canines work just as well.
Send my regards to Jack.
Signed, W.
That piques Hannibal's interest then. It seems this admirer was closer than he'd realized, close enough that they are aware of Hannibal's activities in his cell. The only possible guess here is that this admirer is acquainted with an orderly or someone of higher power in the hospital. It's not possible for them to be working in the BSHCI, Hannibal reasons, for he knows the name of every worker here and Chilton is quite open with the details of his new employees.
Additionally, they mention someone named Jack. Curiously, the only Jack Hannibal knows is one Jack Crawford, the head of the FBI's BAU.
It seems this admirer is somehow connected to the FBI as well, which explains how they are able to get so close as to know what Hannibal does in his free time.
Now he has three leading points. One, this person has an obvious connection to the FBI and a close relation, albeit detached if going by their request to relay the message rather than do it himself, to Jack Crawford of the BAU. Two, they are well acquainted with the hospital's staff. Three, his name starts with a W.
It is more than enough information for Hannibal to find this admirer, yet his lack of technological equipment and social connections hinders this massively. He must extend this game beyond the confines of his glass cage, one way or another.
-
Hannibal begins his search through newspapers and any sources of news he can get his hands on. He inquires in his orderlies of the matters that have occurred outside his cell.
When this turned no results, Hannibal knew he had to try a different approach. Instead of waiting for possible news of this admirer, he must take a hands-on approach and contact him directly.
And so, Hannibal works diligently. He charms the guards and orderlies that enter the room, shows his gratefulness for the food, partakes in little to no tempers, and even bears a conversation or two with Dr. Chilton, the head of the BSHCI.
Eventually, all his work is not in vain and he is rewarded for the increase in good behavior, which humors Chilton very much.
He is given the freedom to choose his reward, under supervision of course. Chilton is amused when Hannibal requests to be able to send mail, under the ruse of wishing to greet his friends.