[ hannibal. he knows the name, and recalls the memory he'd witnessed with perfect clarity - the cold in his voice, his eyes seeming devoid of any real light or humanity. unconsciously, thomas's vision shifts to the scar across abigail's neck, and a chill goes through him.

no. no one else is dying. he's so goddamn sick of losing people - this guy can go right the hell back from whatever hell he crawled out of. ]

Did he see you? How do you know? [ he stops, breathes, and the hands on her shoulders squeeze some, trying to reassure. ] He's not getting anywhere near you, okay? I'm not gonna let that happen. None of us are.