d33tached | maskormenace

[D33 stiffens again - Abigail certainly is feeling touchy tonight. Though, given her fear, he supposes he can at least try to understand...He wouldn't do half as much for anyone else (Kaneki, perhaps, which, by the way, should be proof enough that he doesn't really have a huge problem with cannibals - he's dating one). K31, too, had craved physical contact when she was in need of comfort. Clearly, this was a female thing. D33 doesn't understand it - he finds it quite irritating and uncomfortable, in fact, but he doesn't say so and he doesn't move away, even from their intertwined hands.]

There is little use in wondering, Abigail. [He sounds firm as he speaks, almost as if he's scolding her, but his voice is soft - more like he's teaching her, or at least trying to.] You are your father's daughter. That's a simple fact, is it not?

Be that as it may, he isn't with you any longer. What's been done has been done, it doesn't matter how much you might wish that it were different.

[It's a cold perspective, sure - rather hopeless, as well, but D33 comes from a place where spending your time daydreaming and regretting only got you killed. He's accepted what he's done - he tells himself that he has, anyway.

[He isn't there anymore. And R01 isn't here. Neither is Abigail's father.

[Even so, D33 of all people can understand how hard it is to let go of such things - the influence of R01, the influence of her father, the influence of Hannibal. He understands that more than he can possibly express, more than he'd ever be willing to. In that way, even as he sits there, offering Abigail this advice, it falls dead to his own ears.

[But Abigail isn't D33. Abigail is human. There's something left in Abigail that might be salvageable - at least, that's what D33 thinks. So, after a short moment of silence, perhaps a sigh, he puts his eyes forward to the opposite wall and says, for Abigail and Abigail alone:]

It's time to move on.

It's a fact that I was his daughter. That what happened...happened. And it sucks. I want to create something different, to try to make my own family to be a part of someday. Not a traditional, nuclear family.

[She doesn't think she'll ever have a romantic relationship or want kids. A part of her worries she'd treat them like her father did her and her mother. As if there's a hidden, suppressed sickness in her that a family would bring out.]

I want to form real connections with people. Friendships with people I can trust. That kind of family.

[She sits quietly for a moment.]

My dad's always with me. When I wake up in the morning, I hear him whispering to me and it's like I carry him around all day until it's night and he's in my dreams. I try not to let him get to me. Hannibal tried so hard to help me move on.

[Hannibal even dug up her father's corpse so she could confront him. D33 is much more gentle than that. She squeezes his hand lightly, a small gesture of appreciation.]

I know you're trying to help too. Today's been a bad day though. That woman, her throat was cut like my dad did to me and my mom.

[It isn't exactly the same. Her father had done it quickly, trying to spare them pain instead of cause it. The result was the same for her mother. The image is hard to shake.]

The nightmares are going to be bad tonight. It'll help having you there. So you have to know that even if I wake up screaming, it's better than what would happen if I was alone.

[On her own, she'd panic. She'd see threats in the dark corners of her room and perhaps even run outside in the middle of the night. But it won't go that far with him there.]

[Without quite noticing himself doing it, D33 sucks in a breath, his own ears buzzing with a familiar voice. He hears them too, Abigail - not of his father, but of the only man he could possibly compare to her own. He understands more than he can or would ever say, and to that, he squeezes her hand back.]

I will stay through the night then, if that's what you would like, Abigail.

[He just hopes that he won't be the one waking up screaming.]

Thank you. You're a good friend.

[She wants to do something for him too.]

We don't have to go to bed on empty stomachs. I'll make something for you. And you can sous chef if you'd like. What's your favourite food?

[Now, that's something D33 has never heard before. A "friend", yes - and that had been strange enough - but not a "good" friend.

[At the second question, he raises a brow. Twinkies would probably be the answer, but he's fairly certain you can't just cook one of those up in your house (it wouldn't be the same).]

I find a great many types of food from this world to be pleasing.

Did you have anything particular in mind?

How about breakfast for dinner?

[It's the first thing she thinks of. Even with its connection to her father and Hannibal, it's her comfort food.]

[Breakfast for dinner? D33 doesn't entirely understand what she means by that, but he nods all the same.]

Very well, then. That should suffice.

I'm hoping for more than sufficient.

[Abigail lets go of his hand slowly and stands.]

C'mon. The kitchen's this way.

[She walks into the kitchen.]

[D33 follows.]

Do you consider yourself rather skilled in the area of cooking?

I think I'm pretty good, yeah. I had Hannibal to teach me.

She opens the fridge to see what she has.]

And the powers they gave me help. I can chop food really well. And the enhanced sense of smell lets me get everything just right.

I suppose that would lend to the ability, yes.

[It's a little strange, the vague sense of bitterness he feels when she mentions Hannibal. It's a sensation that has been growing more frequent the more time he spends with her, and though he can, on some level, relate to her attachment to the man, that doesn't take away his distaste for him.]

[Abigail starts gathering what she needs, missing his bitterness]

Do you eat pork? I was thinking of making sausage patties. If Hannibal shows up, don't tell him I made patties instead of proper sausages. They're just as good to me, and I don't want to have to bother with the casings. I can use chicken if you don't like pork.

[If Hannibal shows up, D33 thinks, he'll have much more to say to him than a comment as to how Abigail chooses to prepare her sausage.]

Pork is fine.

[He says this quickly, flatly. He considers leaving it at that, leaving Abigail to her cooking and whatever conversation she might come up with on her own. But, after a moment, he just has to ask:]

Do you not fear his arrival, Abigail? Certainly the way in which you prepare your sausage should be the least of your concerns when it comes to that man.

[He pauses, tries to think of how exactly to ask this next question.]

Would you go to him, Abigail? If he were to arrive here.

Despite everything that's happened, would you return to him, should he ask you to?

[The question puts a pit in D33's stomach - mostly because he's not quite sure what his own answer would be, should the man in question change from Hannibal to a certain R01.]

[Abigail works quietly, mixing the pork with herbs and spices. It might even seem as if she hadn't heard him until she finally speaks.]

Of course I do. I was afraid the last time he was here. I'm afraid of him coming back. I'm afraid of the porter bringing my dad here. Or Nicholas Boyle. Or Jack Crawford. I'm scared all the time. I keep the fear in the back of my mind most of the time, so I can function. But it's always there.

[Hannibal's always there in her mind. She adds an an egg white to the mix, using a trick he taught her to crack and separate the egg. She can almost see him there now cooking with her, capable of comforting or killing her depending on his whim. She still believes he loved her in the way he was capable of loving.]

I would return to him if he asked, yes. I wouldn't have a choice.

Yes, you would.

[D33 surprises himself at the sound of his own voice - firm, defensive, aggressive, even. It causes him to take a step back from her, clearing his throat while he casts his eyes in the direction opposite from her. But he doesn't go back on what he's said - even if he understands better than anyone the truth to Abigail's words.

[He'd think the same, should R01 arrive here-- But, no, no. He would never return to that man. He'd rather die than return to that man. After all, isn't that what had caused him to flee in the first place?]

You have a choice here. [He almost sounds angry as he says it, but really it's frustration - frustration at his own battling thoughts.

[Would she have a choice here? Would he? Would either of their noncompliance simply end in another graphic death should they attempt to resist? This world has its freedoms - of that much, D33 is certain. But it doesn't change the fact that either of those men arriving through the Porter would put targets on their backs.

[The only difference with this world is that Royce could kill him a thousand times over and he'd keep coming back. The thought now makes him feel positively sick to his stomach.

[If D33's first few words had surprised him, the one's about tocome out of his mouth do more so - world's more so.]

I would protect you.

Edited 2017-11-01 23:59 (UTC)

[Abigail shakes her head, staring down at the food to keep herself from looking at D33. Hannibal's influence is so strong. It's been a year since she's been in her world and she still has days where she expects this to all be a dream.]

I don't have a choice if he's here. My life's not mine. It never really was.

[It feels that way to her. She thinks of herself as property. First, her father's possession and then Hannibal's gift for Will, kept in his basement until they were to be reunited.]

I was supposed to die in my Dad's kitchen when he cut my throat. But Hannibal saved me. Every day I've had after that is because of him. I was supposed to go to prison and he saved me from that too. My life is his. I didn't want to die, but it was his right to do what he did.

[Abigail finally forces herself to look at D33. He's already done so much, simply by being there with her.]

I believe you. I believe you'd want to try, but he'd kill you too. If he came back, you'd have to stay away.

[She can't stand the idea of him bleeding to death with her. Hannibal might do something worse than a cut throat to anyone who tried to stop him.]

You're protecting me right now, saving me from being alone.

["My life's not mine. It never really was."

[Abigail's words hit D33 like a knife to the chest. His fists and teeth clench beyond his control.

[This man that Abigail speaks so highly of, this man that she considers herself the property of, this man that cut her own throat - whose right it was to cut her throat?

[D33 knows him too. And for the first time since he left the organization, in that moment, he feels the most overwhelming urge to kill.]

I'd like to see him try.

[He nearly spits as he's speaking, nostrils flaring while his body continues to tense.]

You're wrong, Abigail.

Your life is yours, now. You cannot allow him to take it back from you.

You cannot return to him.

[And then, an even more dangerous thought appears in D33's mind - "I won't let you."]

Please don't be mad at me.

[Abigail's not sure how to react to it. Her father and Hannibal never showed anger, even as they pulled the knife across her throat.]

I wouldn't want to see him try. I want better for you.

[Even the idea of it is enough to make her feel sick. D33 shouldn't be subjected to Hannibal's violence, especially not for her sake.]

My life isn't mine now. The porter brought me here after I died. It could send me back anytime. Just like Hannibal could kill me anytime after he saved me from my dad. All I have is borrowed time.

[She is so used to being powerless, it's hard to think any other way.]

If he came here again and if he wanted me to go back to him, I would go. It doesn't mean he'd kill me. Things are different here. Hannibal and I could be the family we wanted to be.

He isn't your family Abigail, he's--

[A monster. D33 bites off his own words, stopping to take in a deep breath. Compose yourself, he thinks. Why show this girl such vitriol? Why care about her either way?

[Let her go back to him, D33 thinks - the foolish girl.

[After all, is the venom behind his words not truly directed back at himself? For he knows that, should his own Hannibal arrive within the Porter cities, he is not entirely convinced that he wouldn't do the same.

[But it certainly wouldn't be out of any familial sense. That he thinks, is pure foolishness.]

Forget it. [His words are quick, cold.] Do what you will.

[There's a pause.]

But, do not expect me to associate with that man.

[Or else he - Hannibal - will be the one with a knife in his throat, D33 thinks.]

He's complicated. Families are complicated. My dad, Hannibal.

[She's been trained to associate family love with dependency, with being controlled, even with risking being killed.]

[She frowns as his voice turns cold. She wants him to care. Maybe she even needs him to care. She starts working on the food again, keeping herself from being too emotional again.]

Would it be so hard for you to associate with him? You're a killer too. So am I. He might understand you in ways others can't. Not just because he's killed. He's a psychiatrist. And he's smart. Really smart.

[She knows it makes Hannibal dangerous. It also allowed her to be accepted by Hannibal even with everything her father made her do.]

He's a monster.

[The man nearly spits this - apparently he's not so good at keeping himself from getting too emotional again, but he straightens a moment later, looking stubbornly away.]

Forgive me, Abigail, but from everything you've told me of the man, I can say definitively that I have no interest in making his acquaintance.

Associate with him if you must. I will not.

[A "killer". She makes it sound like a dirty word. 'I'm nothing like that man,' D33 thinks. But he knows it isn't true. Perhaps that's why he got so emotional in the first place.]

Do you think I'm a monster?

[She'll make him look at her if she can.]

Here, take this mixture and start forming it into patties. About this size.

[She demonstrates.]

This is all hypothetical, you know. He might not even come back. He wasn't here that long before.

I think that I would rather not discuss this matter any further.

[He says this, and it's finalized in his mind. He goes about repeating the steps she's just shown him.]

That's a yes, then.

[If she is a monster, then so is he. She busies herself, chopping, slicing and dicing vegetables and cheese for an omelette with incredible speed from her powers. It's a nice distraction. When she's calmer, she looks at him again.]

Good. Now, we can put some oil in a pan and start frying them.

Enough.

[The man practically growls, shooting Abigail a dangerous glare.]

I won't tolerate your putting words into my mouth, girl.

[Said with a surprising amount of vitriol. She's pushing all the right buttons.]

If you would like for me to leave, then I will. I said that I do not want to discuss this anymore.

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I'll probably wrap this up here if that's okay with you!

That's okay with me :)