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.