Hannibal Lecter Transcripts: Hannibal S3E9

Hannibal: That's the same atrocious aftershave you wore in court.

Will: Hello, Dr. Lecter.

Hannibal: Hello, Will. Did you get my note?

Will: I got it. Thank you.

Hannibal: Did you read it before you destroyed it? Or did you simply toss it into the nearest fire?

Will: I read it... and then I burnt it.

Hannibal: And you came anyway. I'm glad you came. My other callers are all... professional. Banal psychiatrists and grasping second-raters. Pencil lickers.

Will: I want you to help me, Dr. Lecter.

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

Will: I'm more comfortable the less personal we are.

Hannibal: I smell dogs... and pine and oil beneath that shaving lotion. It's something a child would select, isn't it? Is there a child in your life, Will? I gave you a chance if you recall.

Will: I came about Chicago and Buffalo. You've read about it.

Hannibal: 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?

Will: Thought you would have some ideas.

Hannibal: You just came here to look at me. Came to get the old scent again. (Hannibal sniffing) Why don't you just smell yourself?

Will: Uh... I expected more of you, Doctor. That routine... is old hat.

Hannibal: Whereas you are a new man. Are you a good father, Will? Let me have the file. An hour, and we can discuss it like old times.

Will: Thank you.

Hannibal: Family values may have declined over the last century, but we still help our families when we can. You're family, Will.

Abigail: How many people have you killed?

Hannibal: Many more than your father.

Abigail: Are you going to kill me?

Hannibal: I'm so sorry, Abigail. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you in this life. Blood rituals involve a symbolic death, and then a rebirth. As with all things in the natural world, you'll adapt now and mutate later.

Abigail: Evolve or die.

Hannibal: Even if you know the state of who you are today, you can't predict who you'll be tomorrow. You're defined up to now, not beyond.

Abigail: How would you have done it... if you were going to do it?

Hannibal: How would I have murdered you? I would have cut your throat like your father did.

Abigail: But you're not my father.

Hannibal: You accepted your father... would it be so difficult to accept me?

Abigail: I don't know if it would be smart.

Hannibal: We don't get wiser as we get older, Abigail, but we do learn to avoid or raise a certain amount of hell, depending on which we prefer. I'll need to collect some flesh. Not a pound, only a piece. Something you can live without.

Abigail: You mean, like a finger?

Hannibal: I couldn't bear to take your fingers, not even one. They're so lovely. And I was hoping to teach you how to play the harpsichord. That's enough for now. This will approximate the amount of pressure. Blood leaves the body at a gallop and then a stumble. Are you ready to die, Abigail?

Abigail: Yes. Can I push the button?

Hannibal: Yes. Abigail Hobbs is dead.

Abigail: Long live Abigail Hobbs.

Hannibal: This is a very shy boy, Will. I would love to meet him.

Will: I'm sure you would.

Hannibal: Have you considered the possibility that he's disfigured? Or that he may believe he's disfigured?

Will: That's interesting.

Hannibal: That's not interesting. You thought of that before.

Will: He smashed all the mirrors in the houses, not just enough to get the pieces he wanted. These shards are set so he can see himself in their eyes.

Hannibal: Could you see yourself in their eyes, Will? Killing them all? The first small bond to the killer itches and stings like a leech. Like you, Will... he needs a family to escape what's inside him. You know a fair amount about how these families died. How they lived is how he chooses them.

Will: How is he choosing them?

Hannibal: How did you choose yours? Ready-made wife and child to serve your needs. A stepson or daughter... A stepson absolves you of any biological blame. You know better than to breed. Can't pass on those terrible traits you fear the most. Why are there no descriptions of the grounds? I see floor plans, diagrams of the rooms where death occurred. What were the yards like?

Will: Big... fenced, with trees. Why?

Hannibal: 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 neighbours. Have you ever seen blood in the moonlight, Will? It appears quite black.

Hannibal: You've come to wag your finger?

Alana: I love a good finger-wagging.

Hannibal: Yes, you do. How is Margot?

Alana: Your cogs are turning, Hannibal. I can hear them clicking.

Hannibal: Click, click, boom.

Alana: 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.

Hannibal: Will came to me.

Alana: Yes, he did.

Hannibal: I advised him against it.

Alana: I'm sure.

Hannibal: Are you suggesting I don't have Will's best interests in my mind?

Alana: I'm stating it as fact.

Hannibal: You've got Will dressed up in moral-dignity pants... nothing is his fault.

Alana: I've been courteous... and you have been receptive to courtesy. But these niceties are conditional, and the conditions are non-negotiable.

Hannibal: I must behave myself.

Alana: I know what you're afraid of. It's not pain or solitude. It's indignity. You're a little bit like a cat that way. I'll take your books. I'll take your drawings. I'll take your toilet. You'll have nothing but indignity... and the company of the dead.

Hannibal: We have a basic affinity for our family. We can detect each other from smell alone. You recognize this?

Abigail: My father made it... out of bone.

Hannibal: Your father never wished for anything but your happiness.

Abigail: My father cut my throat.

Hannibal: Out of love.

Abigail: That wasn't love.

Hannibal: Every family loves differently. Every love is unique. You deny your love for your father because of what it might mean about you. Can you smell him here, Abigail?

Abigail: Yes.

Hannibal: This is what your father is. This is all of him now. This is what death has reduced him to. All that's left is honesty. Can you be honest with me now?

Abigail: He was as good to me as he knew how to be. Hunting with him was the best time I ever had.

Hannibal: Yes. A fine definition of love. You have to allow yourself to love him the way he loved you. What you need of your father is here, in your head... and subject to your judgment, not his. Never be ashamed of who you are, Abigail.

Hannibal: As I live and breathe, I thought I'd seen the last of you, Jack.

Jack: Dr. Lecter.

Hannibal: You're dressing younger. Have you taken up some sport you enjoy with a new partner? Tennis, maybe?

Jack: You've taken up your sport with an old partner.

Hannibal: I wrote Will a note... warning him you'd come calling.

Jack: Yes, I read your note before my office forwarded it to Will.

Hannibal: To wet his appetite or yours? You've placed him back in the pot, and you're letting him cook.

Jack: We're all in this stew together, Doctor.

Hannibal: It would be more honest if you ate his brain right out of his skull.

Jack: And you're nothing if not honest.

Hannibal: This shy boy has already seen Will. He already knows his name. Are you chumming the waters, Jack?

Jack: It takes one to catch one.

Hannibal: It takes two to catch one.

Jack: Will has never been more effective than he is with you inside his head.

Hannibal: I agree, but don't think you can persuade me to play along with appeals to my intellectual vanity.

Jack: I don't think I'll persuade you, Doctor. You'll either play, or you won't.

Hannibal: Bella used to say your face was all scars, if you knew how to look. There's always room for a few more. How much room does Will have, Jack?

Hannibal: Hello?

Will: They know.

Hannibal: They're coming.

Abigail: Are we going?

Hannibal: We're waiting for Will. It's important that he sees you. I want you two to be together.

Abigail: They'll catch us if we stay.

Hannibal: I'm on my honour to look after you, Abigail. You have to look after me, too. We have to protect each other in these new lives we create. I want you to go upstairs and wait.

Abigail: For what?

Hannibal: Hunting with your father was the best time you've ever had... now you're going to hunt with me.

Denise: It's your attorney.

Hannibal: Thank you.

Hannibal: Hello?

Francis: Hello, Dr. Lecter. I wanted to tell you that I am delighted that you have taken an interest in me. I don't believe you would tell them who I am, even if you knew. The important thing... is what I am becoming. I knew, you alone would understand this.

Hannibal: Tell me. What are you becoming?

Francis: The Great... Red Dragon.