Hannibal (2013–2015): Season 2, Episode 11 - Ko No Mono - full transcript
Jack Crawford and his team discover the truth about Freddie Lounds' disappearance. Alana is worried about Will's mental state but her fears are forgotten when he encourages her to arm and protect herself. Mason Verger is suspicious about Margot, his sister which he thinks is trying to take power by getting pregnant with an heir. By confessing to Will about how Abigail Hobbs reminded him of his sister, Hannibal complicates Will's understanding about why she had to die.
Previously on Hannibal...
Can I have Carlo
slaughter you a hog?
A token of my appreciation
for all that you do for Margot.
(Hannibal):Was Will aware of
your intention to get pregnant?
I'm all you have.
Will understands that
Hannibal Lecter can help him.
What Will understands is
if you can't beat him, join him.
Freddie was investigating
a story about
Will and Hannibal
committing murders together.
She was a slim and delicate pig.
You slice the ginger.
(animal bellowing)
(gasping)
(screaming)
(soft classical piano music)
(bird tweeting)
Among gourmands, the ortolan
bunting is considered a rare
but debauched delicacy.
A rite of passage, if you will.
Preparation calls for the songbird
to be drowned alive in Armagnac.
It is then roasted
and consumed whole
in a single mouthful.
Ortolans are endangered.
Who amongst us is not?
I haven't been gorged, drowned,
plucked, and roasted.
Not yet.
Traditionally, during this meal,
we are to place
shrouds over our heads,
hiding our faces from God.
I don't hide from God.
Bones and all?
Bones and all.
After my first ortolan,
I was euphoric.
A stimulating reminder
of our power
over life and death.
I was euphoric
when I killed Freddie Lounds.
Tell me, did your heart race
when you murdered her?
- No, it didn't.
- A low heart rate
is a true indicator
of one's capacity for violence.
Your design is evolving.
Your choices affect the physical
structures of your brain.
Killing is changing
the way I think.
Yes.
You must understand
that blood and breath
are only elements
undergoing change
to fuel your radiance.
Just as the source of light
is burning.
(theme music)
Orthodontics confirmed.
It's Freddie Lounds.
A little bit of kerosene,
fwoomp! Incendiary journalism.
See? No scabrous crust
on her chin.
- She was dead before the match was struck.
- Blood's already pooled
to the lowest parts of her body.
Been dead at least 24 hours.
Freddie had a longing
to be noticed.
- She was noticed.
- Freddie Lounds's
ultimate failing
was her inability
to keep herself out
of her own stories.
(coroner): There's more
to this story.
Check it out.
Severely-burned bodies
tend to split along lines
of musculature,
but that looks like an incision.
That's right.
He cut out her psoas muscles
with, uh, it looks like
a hunting knife.
A peculiar trophy.
Why did he burn her?
How many people has Freddie
Lounds burned in her career?
Whoever did this
was not striking out
against Miss Lounds's
exploitative brand
of journalism.
This is something else.
This is something sacred.
Freddie Lounds had to burn.
She was fuel.
Fire destroys and it creates.
It is mythical.
She won't rise from the ashes,
but her killer will.
He's the one to be noticed now.
There's no baby.
It isn't even an embryo yet,
but here I am,
feeling maternal.
You conspired
with your unborn child
to liberate yourself.
You've made Will
an unknowing accomplice.
I got what I wanted from Will...
but I didn't understand
what I was taking
until the strip turned blue.
I'm not proud of myself.
Nor should you be.
- You said--
- I lied.
Did you know?
I was aware of Margot's goal
of having a child.
I was not aware you were
the means to achieving it.
What do you want from me?
Nothing...
or as much
as you'd like to give.
As much as I would like to give?
I always thought men were an
optional extra in childrearing,
so... I'm not opposed
to a male influence.
As long as it's not my brother.
He's not good with children.
Come on, children.
What's your name?
Franklin.
Do you like horses, Franklin?
Whoa!
(horse whinnying)
Where do you stay...
- Franklin?
- With Mama and Shirley.
Mama is not
your real mama, is she?
She's my foster.
Do you love Mama and Shirley?
And Kitty Cat.
And Kitty Cat, yes.
Franklin...
you can't stay there anymore
with Mama and Shirley
and Kitty Cat.
- You have to go away.
- Who says?
The government says.
Mama lost her job
and her approval
as a foster home.
You can't see her
after this week.
You can't see Kitty Cat after
this week either. - Why not?
Maybe they just, they just don't
want you anymore, Franklin.
Is there something wrong
with you?
There is, isn't there?
Oh, here. Here now.
Here we go.
Can, can you put your head back?
Just like that. Perfect.
Yes.
Perfect.
Have a chocolate.
(Middle Eastern music)
(woman screaming)
(knocking on door)
(dogs barking)
Do we do
friendly visits anymore?
This isn't a friendly visit.
Oh. Uh...
What kind of visit is it?
I guess I'm trying to convince
myself of something.
You're worried
I killed Freddie Lounds.
Did you?
What do you think?
I think that's the wrong
answer to tell somebody
who is already wondering
what you're capable of.
I told everyone
Hannibal was a killer,
and no one believed me.
Just like no one
would believe you
if you said I was a killer.
I don't think
Hannibal is good for you
and I think your relationship
is destructive.
Hannibal's good enough for you.
You should be afraid.
I want you to have something.
Whoever you are afraid of...
...don't be afraid to use it.
It takes 9mm rounds.
Buy a box...
find a range...
Practice.
Please.
I would like
to tell you about camp.
It was a wonderful
childhood experience
that keeps coming back to me.
Papa paid for the whole thing,
every summer,
all 125 campers
on Lake Michigan.
Your father was a generous man.
I've continued
his charitable work today.
Most of the campers
are unfortunates
who will do anything
for a candy bar.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
Maybe I took advantage.
Maybe I was rough with them.
I'm not holding anything back.
It's all OK.
I got a walk on the charges.
- What was your penance?
- I got 500 hours
of community service.
I worked at the dog pound
and I received
some court-ordered therapy.
Was therapy helpful?
I got the doctor involved
in something unethical,
so he'd cut me some slack.
That's not helpful.
Papa called it
"altruistic punishment".
Mason...
please...
Oh.
Papa was a prodigy
in the field of meat,
but his real
genius was for human nature.
He could look at a man...
and see his weakness.
Your father is dead.
A boy's illusions are no basis
for a man's life, Mason.
Margot is the only family
you have left.
My sister loves me,
Dr. Lecter.
She has to or she's destitute.
Vergers are noted expansionists.
And I am the sole Verger heir.
Unless biology provides another.
"Thou prepares a table before me
"in the presence
of mine enemies.
"Thou anointest
my head with oil,
"my cup runneth over.
"Surely goodness and mercy
shall follow me
"all the days of my life.
"I will dwell in the house
of the Lord forever."
I'm here to mourn
Freddie Lounds.
Can't imagine
that's why you're here.
There's all sorts of reasons
why I'd go
to Freddie Lounds's funeral.
It's common for a killer
to revisit their victims
after death,
attend funerals,
return to crime scenes.
- Anyone suspicious?
- Besides me?
That was implied.
You were expecting me.
"It's common for a killer
to revisit their victims
after death."
I'm not here to dance
on Freddie Lounds's grave
if that's what
you're getting at.
You're not here looking
for her killer, either.
You don't seem particularly
interested in the crowd.
Are you profiling me,
Dr. Bloom?
I'm here because...
....my psychiatrist suggested
it would be therapeutic.
I've been so preoccupied with
taking a life, I'm, uh...
having trouble wrapping my head
around making one.
When men become fathers,
they undergo biochemical changes
that affect the way they think.
You said the same thing
happens when men become killers.
Fathers can be killers.
What sort of father
would you be?
I would be a good father.
How quickly we form attachments
something
that does not yet exist.
I'm not attached. I'm...
I'm only...
anticipating attachment.
We have
a deep-seated need
to interact with our children.
It helps us discover who we are.
Have you ever been a father?
I was to my sister.
She was not my child,
but she was my charge.
She taught me so much
about myself.
Her name was... Mischa.
Was?
She's dead.
Abigail reminded me
so much of her.
Why did you kill her?
What happened to Abigail
had to happen.
There was no other way.
There was.
But there isn't now.
Would you protect this child
in the way
you couldn't protect Abigail?
I still dream about Abigail.
I dream that I'm...
teaching her how to fish.
I'm sorry...
I took that from you.
Wish I could give it back.
So do I.
Occasionally, I drop a teacup
to shatter on the floor.
On purpose.
I'm not satisfied when it
doesn't gather itself up again.
Someday perhaps,
a cup will come together.
Extra parts
were harvested on-site.
Just one night in the ground,
that beats Jesus by 48 hours.
Never thought Freddie Lounds
would make it to heaven,
much less get deified.
This killer is trying
to get somebody's attention.
He has direction.
His chaos is getting
more orderly.
So first, he burns effigies,
and now he's assembling them.
Burning Freddie Lounds
wasn't his first effigy.
Whoever killed Freddie
killed Randall Tier,
mutilated him, dismembered him,
and put him on display.
(James): Randall Tier
and Freddie Lounds
- have a connection.
- Will.
Randall Tier was his suspect
and Hannibal's patient,
and Freddie Lounds
was investigating
his murder when she died.
Freddie Lounds was investigating
a lot of things, when she died.
This psychopath was incubating
fantasies about killing
and is building himself up.
Or someone's building him up.
He has a benefactor
who admires his destruction.
Shiva is both destroyer
and benefactor.
He's being guided.
Is this some kind of signpost?
Maybe Freddie's killer
didn't do this...
maybe his benefactor did.
Why?
It's a courtship.
(Mason):Good morning!
Riding agrees with you.
Puts colour in your cheeks.
You've got a bloom. Really.
It's chilly.
You're frequently
chilly, Margot.
I was lying in bed...
composing in my mind
like the deaf Beethoven,
and it occurred to me
that for a family
who owns breeding stock,
we don't do
much of it ourselves.
I'm concerned about
the next generation
of Vergers. Aren't you?
I'm just trying
to survive this generation.
(Mason laughing)
Meat is, at base,
a people business.
Nobody understood that better than
Papa, except now for me of course.
Papa would take me out of school
for weeks at a time
while he conducted my, my...
my real education
in livestock, slaughterhouses.
(horse whinnying)
I need to share this wealth
with a little Verger.
- "A little Verger."
- Don't you want an heir,
Margot?
I want a baby Verger,
my own baby.
I have viable sperm.
I think I'd have a son.
It'd be your heir too.
Auntie Margot...
I think a child
may be what we need
to bring us closer together.
Maybe it is.
I've said it before,
you've got a bloom.
Rosy.
Positively radiant.
What is your secret?
Every creative act
has its destructive
consequence, Will.
The Hindu god Shiva
is simultaneous
destroyer and creator.
Who you were yesterday
is laid waste
to give rise
to who you are today.
How many lies have had
to be... sanctified?
How many consciences...
devastated?
As many as were necessary.
You sacrificed Abigail.
You cared about her
as much as I did.
Maybe more.
But then, how much
has God sacrificed?
What god do you pray to?
I don't pray.
I have not been bothered
by any considerations of deity,
other than to recognize
how my own modest actions
pale beside those of God.
I prayed...
...I would see Abigail again.
Well, your prayer
did not go entirely unanswered.
You saw part of her.
Will...
should the universe contract,
should time reverse
and teacups come together...
a place could be made
for Abigail in your world.
What place would that be?
You've lost a child, Will.
It seems you're likely
to gain one.
God is beyond measure
in wanton malice...
and matchless in his irony.
No, no, no.
Cancel that one.
I remember
walking the swine fairs
with my father,
looking over the competition.
Papa's little silver knife
ever ready
to slip out of his waistcoat
and stick into the back of a pig
to check the depth of fat.
Your education was an odd one.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
Oh, those were good,
funny times.
Papa would stab
4-H show pigs
who thought
everyone was their friend,
scrubbed in milk
and baby powder.
Such coddled little things.
Part of a show pig's
consideration is its happiness.
If we were truly considerate
of a pig's happiness...
we wouldn't eat them.
What about Margot's happiness?
Papa taught me
how to stick the knife in
only as deep as necessary,
to test the thickness
of her skin.
You miscalculated...
struck a nerve.
Margot would love
to stick a knife into me,
and it wouldn't be to test
the thickness of my skin.
She tried
to kill you once already.
"To a male heir
confirmed as my descendent..."
It's a very clever loophole
she's found in Papa's will.
Clearly, he did not
take into account
how resourceful she is.
Neither did you.
I can be resourceful too.
If she's not pregnant,
she will be.
Margot's very tenacious
that way.
This child would be a Verger.
You would have an heir
to carry on the family name,
to carry on your name.
I'd have an heir...
only if I die.
(He scoffs.)
One observes only things
which are already on the mind.
What's on your mind?
I'm feeling pressure to
believe something I don't trust,
and that pressure
is making me paranoid.
Who's pressuring you?
Will.
We'll never really
be alone, will we?
He'll always be in the room.
Do you feel like you're
helping him? Making progress?
Will is finally finding himself.
He's getting better.
Doesn't seem
to be getting better.
Are you questioning my therapy?
I'm questioning everything.
It's all blurry and subjective.
I feel empty,
like I've given blood.
Alana, you've given
more than blood.
Have you been firing a gun?
I told you
I was feeling paranoid.
(machine beeping)
Poor Margot...
you just can't win.
I have to...
remove this temptation.
(Margot breathing hard)
They're going
to find something wrong
with your lady parts, Margot.
Or so the record will state.
The doctor will advise me
that it's best
if they take...
everything.
I'm afraid the only person
you'll be celebrating
Mother's Day with
is me.
The most terrifying thing
in the world
can be a lucid moment.
What are you up to?
I'm not sure I know what
you're talking about, Dr. Bloom.
I think you know.
You're not fooling me, Jack.
- I'm not trying to fool you.
- You're lying.
You're all lying.
Will. Hannibal.
You're lying to each other,
and they're lying to you.
Tell me what you believe
is happening.
What do I believe?
What do you believe?
Do you believe
Will killed Freddie Lounds?
No, I don't.
Do you think Dr. Chilton's
the Chesapeake Ripper?
- There was overwhelming--
- STOP LYING, JACK!
(sigh)
You think you've moved
your pieces around so cleverly.
What's changed, Alana?
I have no confidence
that I know
Hannibal Lecter anymore.
Even with as much as you know or think you
know Hannibal, you don't know him either.
And you don't know Will.
You are going to lose, Jack!
If you haven't lost already.
I want you to come with me.
How was my funeral?
(machine beeping)
(strange tribal song)
(Middle Eastern music)
(The music stops abruptly.)
Carlo?
Carlo, I don't think
they've had enough to...
You must be the baby daddy.
Excuse me if I don't
offer you a cigar.
I'm gonna feed you
to my pigs. Carlo!
(Mason laughing crazily)
(both grunting)
Do you think it was
Margot's idea to have an heir?
You think it was your idea
to take it from her?
My idea
to come here and kill you?
The only thing
that you, your sister,
and I have in common
is the same psychiatrist.
(Mason laughs.)
If Dr. Lecter
had his druthers...
you'd be wrapped
around a bullet right now.
(Will uncocks the gun.)
Dr. Lecter is the one you want
to be feeding to your pigs.
Can I have Carlo
slaughter you a hog?
A token of my appreciation
for all that you do for Margot.
(Hannibal):Was Will aware of
your intention to get pregnant?
I'm all you have.
Will understands that
Hannibal Lecter can help him.
What Will understands is
if you can't beat him, join him.
Freddie was investigating
a story about
Will and Hannibal
committing murders together.
She was a slim and delicate pig.
You slice the ginger.
(animal bellowing)
(gasping)
(screaming)
(soft classical piano music)
(bird tweeting)
Among gourmands, the ortolan
bunting is considered a rare
but debauched delicacy.
A rite of passage, if you will.
Preparation calls for the songbird
to be drowned alive in Armagnac.
It is then roasted
and consumed whole
in a single mouthful.
Ortolans are endangered.
Who amongst us is not?
I haven't been gorged, drowned,
plucked, and roasted.
Not yet.
Traditionally, during this meal,
we are to place
shrouds over our heads,
hiding our faces from God.
I don't hide from God.
Bones and all?
Bones and all.
After my first ortolan,
I was euphoric.
A stimulating reminder
of our power
over life and death.
I was euphoric
when I killed Freddie Lounds.
Tell me, did your heart race
when you murdered her?
- No, it didn't.
- A low heart rate
is a true indicator
of one's capacity for violence.
Your design is evolving.
Your choices affect the physical
structures of your brain.
Killing is changing
the way I think.
Yes.
You must understand
that blood and breath
are only elements
undergoing change
to fuel your radiance.
Just as the source of light
is burning.
(theme music)
Orthodontics confirmed.
It's Freddie Lounds.
A little bit of kerosene,
fwoomp! Incendiary journalism.
See? No scabrous crust
on her chin.
- She was dead before the match was struck.
- Blood's already pooled
to the lowest parts of her body.
Been dead at least 24 hours.
Freddie had a longing
to be noticed.
- She was noticed.
- Freddie Lounds's
ultimate failing
was her inability
to keep herself out
of her own stories.
(coroner): There's more
to this story.
Check it out.
Severely-burned bodies
tend to split along lines
of musculature,
but that looks like an incision.
That's right.
He cut out her psoas muscles
with, uh, it looks like
a hunting knife.
A peculiar trophy.
Why did he burn her?
How many people has Freddie
Lounds burned in her career?
Whoever did this
was not striking out
against Miss Lounds's
exploitative brand
of journalism.
This is something else.
This is something sacred.
Freddie Lounds had to burn.
She was fuel.
Fire destroys and it creates.
It is mythical.
She won't rise from the ashes,
but her killer will.
He's the one to be noticed now.
There's no baby.
It isn't even an embryo yet,
but here I am,
feeling maternal.
You conspired
with your unborn child
to liberate yourself.
You've made Will
an unknowing accomplice.
I got what I wanted from Will...
but I didn't understand
what I was taking
until the strip turned blue.
I'm not proud of myself.
Nor should you be.
- You said--
- I lied.
Did you know?
I was aware of Margot's goal
of having a child.
I was not aware you were
the means to achieving it.
What do you want from me?
Nothing...
or as much
as you'd like to give.
As much as I would like to give?
I always thought men were an
optional extra in childrearing,
so... I'm not opposed
to a male influence.
As long as it's not my brother.
He's not good with children.
Come on, children.
What's your name?
Franklin.
Do you like horses, Franklin?
Whoa!
(horse whinnying)
Where do you stay...
- Franklin?
- With Mama and Shirley.
Mama is not
your real mama, is she?
She's my foster.
Do you love Mama and Shirley?
And Kitty Cat.
And Kitty Cat, yes.
Franklin...
you can't stay there anymore
with Mama and Shirley
and Kitty Cat.
- You have to go away.
- Who says?
The government says.
Mama lost her job
and her approval
as a foster home.
You can't see her
after this week.
You can't see Kitty Cat after
this week either. - Why not?
Maybe they just, they just don't
want you anymore, Franklin.
Is there something wrong
with you?
There is, isn't there?
Oh, here. Here now.
Here we go.
Can, can you put your head back?
Just like that. Perfect.
Yes.
Perfect.
Have a chocolate.
(Middle Eastern music)
(woman screaming)
(knocking on door)
(dogs barking)
Do we do
friendly visits anymore?
This isn't a friendly visit.
Oh. Uh...
What kind of visit is it?
I guess I'm trying to convince
myself of something.
You're worried
I killed Freddie Lounds.
Did you?
What do you think?
I think that's the wrong
answer to tell somebody
who is already wondering
what you're capable of.
I told everyone
Hannibal was a killer,
and no one believed me.
Just like no one
would believe you
if you said I was a killer.
I don't think
Hannibal is good for you
and I think your relationship
is destructive.
Hannibal's good enough for you.
You should be afraid.
I want you to have something.
Whoever you are afraid of...
...don't be afraid to use it.
It takes 9mm rounds.
Buy a box...
find a range...
Practice.
Please.
I would like
to tell you about camp.
It was a wonderful
childhood experience
that keeps coming back to me.
Papa paid for the whole thing,
every summer,
all 125 campers
on Lake Michigan.
Your father was a generous man.
I've continued
his charitable work today.
Most of the campers
are unfortunates
who will do anything
for a candy bar.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
Maybe I took advantage.
Maybe I was rough with them.
I'm not holding anything back.
It's all OK.
I got a walk on the charges.
- What was your penance?
- I got 500 hours
of community service.
I worked at the dog pound
and I received
some court-ordered therapy.
Was therapy helpful?
I got the doctor involved
in something unethical,
so he'd cut me some slack.
That's not helpful.
Papa called it
"altruistic punishment".
Mason...
please...
Oh.
Papa was a prodigy
in the field of meat,
but his real
genius was for human nature.
He could look at a man...
and see his weakness.
Your father is dead.
A boy's illusions are no basis
for a man's life, Mason.
Margot is the only family
you have left.
My sister loves me,
Dr. Lecter.
She has to or she's destitute.
Vergers are noted expansionists.
And I am the sole Verger heir.
Unless biology provides another.
"Thou prepares a table before me
"in the presence
of mine enemies.
"Thou anointest
my head with oil,
"my cup runneth over.
"Surely goodness and mercy
shall follow me
"all the days of my life.
"I will dwell in the house
of the Lord forever."
I'm here to mourn
Freddie Lounds.
Can't imagine
that's why you're here.
There's all sorts of reasons
why I'd go
to Freddie Lounds's funeral.
It's common for a killer
to revisit their victims
after death,
attend funerals,
return to crime scenes.
- Anyone suspicious?
- Besides me?
That was implied.
You were expecting me.
"It's common for a killer
to revisit their victims
after death."
I'm not here to dance
on Freddie Lounds's grave
if that's what
you're getting at.
You're not here looking
for her killer, either.
You don't seem particularly
interested in the crowd.
Are you profiling me,
Dr. Bloom?
I'm here because...
....my psychiatrist suggested
it would be therapeutic.
I've been so preoccupied with
taking a life, I'm, uh...
having trouble wrapping my head
around making one.
When men become fathers,
they undergo biochemical changes
that affect the way they think.
You said the same thing
happens when men become killers.
Fathers can be killers.
What sort of father
would you be?
I would be a good father.
How quickly we form attachments
something
that does not yet exist.
I'm not attached. I'm...
I'm only...
anticipating attachment.
We have
a deep-seated need
to interact with our children.
It helps us discover who we are.
Have you ever been a father?
I was to my sister.
She was not my child,
but she was my charge.
She taught me so much
about myself.
Her name was... Mischa.
Was?
She's dead.
Abigail reminded me
so much of her.
Why did you kill her?
What happened to Abigail
had to happen.
There was no other way.
There was.
But there isn't now.
Would you protect this child
in the way
you couldn't protect Abigail?
I still dream about Abigail.
I dream that I'm...
teaching her how to fish.
I'm sorry...
I took that from you.
Wish I could give it back.
So do I.
Occasionally, I drop a teacup
to shatter on the floor.
On purpose.
I'm not satisfied when it
doesn't gather itself up again.
Someday perhaps,
a cup will come together.
Extra parts
were harvested on-site.
Just one night in the ground,
that beats Jesus by 48 hours.
Never thought Freddie Lounds
would make it to heaven,
much less get deified.
This killer is trying
to get somebody's attention.
He has direction.
His chaos is getting
more orderly.
So first, he burns effigies,
and now he's assembling them.
Burning Freddie Lounds
wasn't his first effigy.
Whoever killed Freddie
killed Randall Tier,
mutilated him, dismembered him,
and put him on display.
(James): Randall Tier
and Freddie Lounds
- have a connection.
- Will.
Randall Tier was his suspect
and Hannibal's patient,
and Freddie Lounds
was investigating
his murder when she died.
Freddie Lounds was investigating
a lot of things, when she died.
This psychopath was incubating
fantasies about killing
and is building himself up.
Or someone's building him up.
He has a benefactor
who admires his destruction.
Shiva is both destroyer
and benefactor.
He's being guided.
Is this some kind of signpost?
Maybe Freddie's killer
didn't do this...
maybe his benefactor did.
Why?
It's a courtship.
(Mason):Good morning!
Riding agrees with you.
Puts colour in your cheeks.
You've got a bloom. Really.
It's chilly.
You're frequently
chilly, Margot.
I was lying in bed...
composing in my mind
like the deaf Beethoven,
and it occurred to me
that for a family
who owns breeding stock,
we don't do
much of it ourselves.
I'm concerned about
the next generation
of Vergers. Aren't you?
I'm just trying
to survive this generation.
(Mason laughing)
Meat is, at base,
a people business.
Nobody understood that better than
Papa, except now for me of course.
Papa would take me out of school
for weeks at a time
while he conducted my, my...
my real education
in livestock, slaughterhouses.
(horse whinnying)
I need to share this wealth
with a little Verger.
- "A little Verger."
- Don't you want an heir,
Margot?
I want a baby Verger,
my own baby.
I have viable sperm.
I think I'd have a son.
It'd be your heir too.
Auntie Margot...
I think a child
may be what we need
to bring us closer together.
Maybe it is.
I've said it before,
you've got a bloom.
Rosy.
Positively radiant.
What is your secret?
Every creative act
has its destructive
consequence, Will.
The Hindu god Shiva
is simultaneous
destroyer and creator.
Who you were yesterday
is laid waste
to give rise
to who you are today.
How many lies have had
to be... sanctified?
How many consciences...
devastated?
As many as were necessary.
You sacrificed Abigail.
You cared about her
as much as I did.
Maybe more.
But then, how much
has God sacrificed?
What god do you pray to?
I don't pray.
I have not been bothered
by any considerations of deity,
other than to recognize
how my own modest actions
pale beside those of God.
I prayed...
...I would see Abigail again.
Well, your prayer
did not go entirely unanswered.
You saw part of her.
Will...
should the universe contract,
should time reverse
and teacups come together...
a place could be made
for Abigail in your world.
What place would that be?
You've lost a child, Will.
It seems you're likely
to gain one.
God is beyond measure
in wanton malice...
and matchless in his irony.
No, no, no.
Cancel that one.
I remember
walking the swine fairs
with my father,
looking over the competition.
Papa's little silver knife
ever ready
to slip out of his waistcoat
and stick into the back of a pig
to check the depth of fat.
Your education was an odd one.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
Oh, those were good,
funny times.
Papa would stab
4-H show pigs
who thought
everyone was their friend,
scrubbed in milk
and baby powder.
Such coddled little things.
Part of a show pig's
consideration is its happiness.
If we were truly considerate
of a pig's happiness...
we wouldn't eat them.
What about Margot's happiness?
Papa taught me
how to stick the knife in
only as deep as necessary,
to test the thickness
of her skin.
You miscalculated...
struck a nerve.
Margot would love
to stick a knife into me,
and it wouldn't be to test
the thickness of my skin.
She tried
to kill you once already.
"To a male heir
confirmed as my descendent..."
It's a very clever loophole
she's found in Papa's will.
Clearly, he did not
take into account
how resourceful she is.
Neither did you.
I can be resourceful too.
If she's not pregnant,
she will be.
Margot's very tenacious
that way.
This child would be a Verger.
You would have an heir
to carry on the family name,
to carry on your name.
I'd have an heir...
only if I die.
(He scoffs.)
One observes only things
which are already on the mind.
What's on your mind?
I'm feeling pressure to
believe something I don't trust,
and that pressure
is making me paranoid.
Who's pressuring you?
Will.
We'll never really
be alone, will we?
He'll always be in the room.
Do you feel like you're
helping him? Making progress?
Will is finally finding himself.
He's getting better.
Doesn't seem
to be getting better.
Are you questioning my therapy?
I'm questioning everything.
It's all blurry and subjective.
I feel empty,
like I've given blood.
Alana, you've given
more than blood.
Have you been firing a gun?
I told you
I was feeling paranoid.
(machine beeping)
Poor Margot...
you just can't win.
I have to...
remove this temptation.
(Margot breathing hard)
They're going
to find something wrong
with your lady parts, Margot.
Or so the record will state.
The doctor will advise me
that it's best
if they take...
everything.
I'm afraid the only person
you'll be celebrating
Mother's Day with
is me.
The most terrifying thing
in the world
can be a lucid moment.
What are you up to?
I'm not sure I know what
you're talking about, Dr. Bloom.
I think you know.
You're not fooling me, Jack.
- I'm not trying to fool you.
- You're lying.
You're all lying.
Will. Hannibal.
You're lying to each other,
and they're lying to you.
Tell me what you believe
is happening.
What do I believe?
What do you believe?
Do you believe
Will killed Freddie Lounds?
No, I don't.
Do you think Dr. Chilton's
the Chesapeake Ripper?
- There was overwhelming--
- STOP LYING, JACK!
(sigh)
You think you've moved
your pieces around so cleverly.
What's changed, Alana?
I have no confidence
that I know
Hannibal Lecter anymore.
Even with as much as you know or think you
know Hannibal, you don't know him either.
And you don't know Will.
You are going to lose, Jack!
If you haven't lost already.
I want you to come with me.
How was my funeral?
(machine beeping)
(strange tribal song)
(Middle Eastern music)
(The music stops abruptly.)
Carlo?
Carlo, I don't think
they've had enough to...
You must be the baby daddy.
Excuse me if I don't
offer you a cigar.
I'm gonna feed you
to my pigs. Carlo!
(Mason laughing crazily)
(both grunting)
Do you think it was
Margot's idea to have an heir?
You think it was your idea
to take it from her?
My idea
to come here and kill you?
The only thing
that you, your sister,
and I have in common
is the same psychiatrist.
(Mason laughs.)
If Dr. Lecter
had his druthers...
you'd be wrapped
around a bullet right now.
(Will uncocks the gun.)
Dr. Lecter is the one you want
to be feeding to your pigs.