CH 12: The Beginning of the End

Cal was unsure of why he didn't believe Abigail. She was scared, absolutely, and damn well convincing, but that didn't mean he could trust her. A young woman caught in a poor home life could quite easily pull all the stops with such a tale. As manipulative as she was appealing, he was almost certain that this was the case with Abigail Hobbs. Nevertheless, he found himself drawn to her and almost yearning for her approval. But why? What had she done to earn that seat in his heart?

Watching Abigail sleep with calm, even breaths, Cal mirrored her exhale before going over to close the blinds. The neon pinks and greens bathed his skin as he peered out into the city streets below, and with a flick of his wrist, all turned to black in the stifling little room. Or rather, he felt stifled. He was making the right decision, wasn't he? By putting the movement ahead of this girl, he was ensuring prosperity – his own, too. And after all the shit he'd had to endure, he knew he deserved that.

"I'm sorry, Abigail." The whisper carried over the gentle whir of the A/C, but fell on deaf ears as the girl slept soundly. A part of Cal was disappointed that she didn't wake up. It was funny to him, how he could bravely speak to dozens, no, hundreds of people about his faith, but when it came to this one young woman, he was far too cowardly to express his true thoughts and affections.

Crossing toward her bedside, Cal leaned over Abigail's slight frame and pressed a kiss to her temple. She stirred, but otherwise did not move. Perhaps one day, she would forgive him for choosing the greater good.

After a (very unsatisfying) breakfast, Abigail managed to convince Cal to take her to a Minnesotan Walmart.

"I need feminine hygiene products," she lied, knowing that he wouldn't investigate beyond her claim. No man ever did (or would).

So now, with his hand on Abigail's shoulder, Cal grudgingly steered her through the store like chattel.

"I can get it myself," she snapped. "Just wait here. I don't need people staring because some old, creepy pervert decided to help me pick out tampons." When Cal merely stared, she snidely explained, "You're the pervert, in case that wasn't clear. I'll be right back, okay?"

Cal sighed, ducking his head in acquiescence. "Alright," he agreed, "but be quick about it. I need to return our rental car in twenty-four hours, so we need to get moving."

Abigail nodded. But after she'd ducked into the appropriate aisle, she began texting Marissa on where to find her.

[txt:] I'm at a Walmart in Superior.

[txt:] Can you come get me?

It took a moment, but when Marissa texted back an affirmative "on my way," Abigail gave a quaking sigh of relief. This would soon be over. All she had to do now was keep Cal detained…

With a quick look over her shoulder, Abigail ducked out of the aisle and made a beeline for the customer service desk. After she'd spotted a security guard, she forced tears to her eyes and affected a look of fearful unrest, her chest shuddering with breath as she approached on unsteady legs.

The man immediately took the bait. "Whoa, whoa, hey, are you alright?" he asked. "Did something happen?"

Tearfully pointing toward the aisle she'd just come from, Abigail choked out, "He…h-he keeps following me… I tried to get away, but he's still here."

"Who's still here?" the guard asked.

"The strange man…" Abigail turned her head just as Cal came into view. "That's him!"

Their eyes locked and Cal paled, instantly sensing that something was amiss. "Abigail?" He attempted to approach, but the security guard quickly intervened, now wedging himself protectively in between Cal and Abigail.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."

"What? No, you don't understand… That girl is a part of my – Abigail!" Attempting to move around the guard, he furiously jerked free of the man's grasp as Abigail rushed toward the exit. "Abigail, wait!"

But she didn't listen. Tearing out into the parking lot, Abigail ran and ran until she was no longer able, her breath like knife points in her lungs as she sagged against the brick siding of a nearby building.

When Marissa picked Abigail up, the two didn't talk for the first ten minutes of the drive. Abigail kept wiping tears from her eyes, her shoulders shaking as she found herself torn between fear and relief.

"Abby?" Marissa glanced her way before looking at the road again. "Am I at least allowed to ask if you're okay?"

With a bitter laugh, Abigail pushed the hair back from her eyes and shook her head. "I don't feel alright, but I know that physically I am. I'd really started to like Cal, Rissa…or at least, I did until I realized what kind of monster he is."

"So then…are you still-?"

"A virgin? Yes. Pure as the driven snow." Her tone was hushed and bitter as she looked out at the passing trees. "Does my dad know I'm coming home?"

Marissa shook her head. "I didn't think it was my place to tell him, especially if you decided to run away."

"Again? And to where?" Abigail scoffed. "I figure it'll soften the blow if I tell him I was kidnapped, and that I managed to get away from my captors."

"It's not a total lie," Marissa agreed. "But Abby, what happens if your dad tries to press charges? Won't that bring Cal back into your life?"

"He won't," Abigail whispered. "Trust me on that." Once it became evident to Hobbs that Cal knew of his crimes, she was confident that her father wouldn't seek justice. "Have any other girls died while I was gone?"

Marissa spared her a funny look. "Well that's an awfully random thing to ask…but yeah, a couple. Why do you want to know?"

Abigail swallowed back her nausea, shaking her head. So even after all of her efforts, her father had still felt compelled to kill on her behalf.

"No reason," she mumbled. "I haven't seen the news for the past several weeks now, and I was just curious, is all. Not much happens around here, so when something does happen, it tends to really stick with you."

"Yeah," Marissa agreed, "that's definitely true." They were silent a moment before she added, "Did they hurt you at all? You mentioned being okay physically, but like…did they try to brainwash you or anything?"

Abigail shook her head. "No, but I met a woman who slowly lost her mind. They kept her locked away in solitary confinement."

"Really? How come?"

"She wasn't loyal to the movement, so she was required to unburden. Truthfully, I'm amazed Cal never threw me in there."

"Me, too…but only because you're snarky as fuck, and I can't imagine you worshiping that lightbulb, or whatever it is they do."

Abigail laughed weakly. "They call their god 'the light.'"

"Whatever. So do you think you'll be okay?"

"Okay?" Abigail glanced at Marissa, momentarily fearful that her friend could see right through her threadbare, rapidly crumbling resolve.

"Yeah, of course – you know, like will you be alright? Do you think you need therapy or anything? 'Cause I've been reading up on people who've escaped cults, and some of them were really fucked up afterwards. They needed massive help."

Abigail winced. In that moment, she wanted to tell her best friend of 19 years everything. She wanted to lay down her pretenses and confess, but instead she flashed a weak smile, shaking her head in negation. "I'll be fine," she promised. "Really."

Marissa appeared unconvinced, but nodded. "Okay…but promise me you'll get help the second you need it."

"Sure…of course."

Before long, the familiar sight of her home loomed in the distance, and Abigail sat upright with clear tension.

Marissa parked the car in front of her own house, seeing how they were neighbors, and looked over at her friend with fond concern. "You sure you don't need me to come in there with you?"

Abigail shook her head. "No, um…no, I need to do this myself."

"Okay." Marissa reached over and gave the girl's hand a squeeze. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Flashing a weak smile, Abigail opened the car door and hopped out onto the dirt road leading up to the Hobbs' mailbox. With shaking legs, she drew a breath and willed herself to walk. Inside the house, she knew what she would find: her mother at the stove, and her father downstairs crafting a new creation from his kills, while she, the ever-silent accomplice, would enter to reclaim her rightful place as the unwilling victim. She now knew that she was never meant to be happy. No – in this world, all she could truly do was fight for her life.

-Several Months Later-

Cal sat at his desk, scribbling out his signature on a stack of forms. As of late, things had been going wonderfully for the compound, and more donors and members were pouring in than ever before. He liked to believe that he was the cause of this influx.

In the background (if only to drown out the quiet) was the gentle hum of the nightly news. Cal's pen scratched across the paper in sync, only to halt when something compelled him to look up.

"-called the Minnesota Shrike. His wife, Louise Hobbs, was found dead at the scene, but his daughter, Abigail Hobbs, remains in stable condition."

Cal immediately jerked up from the desk, his chest heaving as the familiar face with warm, cauliflower blue eyes that had long since haunted him – guilted him – remained splashed across the screen. Abigail had been right. She'd been telling the truth.

And he'd ignored her.

Dropping down to his knees, Cal bent his head and folded his hands, trembling as an overwhelming sickness overtook him. He would pray. The Light would sooth and absolve him, and ultimately save this girl.

"Don't worry, Abigail," he whispered, now lifting his hands toward the ceiling, "all will once more be restored."

A/N: I know this may seem like an odd stopping place, but all along, I've wanted the ending to imply that the beginning of Hannibal S1 was about to take place (and The Path S1, as well). So even though my initial goal was to provide an AU where Abigail had a better life, that unfortunately didn't end up being the case. The first few eps of The Path seemed promising for that, but it soon became clear to me that Cal was just as manipulative and monstrous, and overall bad for Abigail as GJH and Hannibal. So yeah. And even though Cal found out, he's definitely too selfish and concerned for the compound to actually reach for Abigail in her new plight, so it's implied that during all of Abigail's hospitalization and manipulation via Hannibal, Cal remains in New York without offering any aid.

It's been a fun and interesting ride, but this is the end of this story! Like I alluded to in CH 11, I may write a stand-alone one-shot where Cal and Abigail are intimate (aka smut, ahem), but only if I see interest in that happening. I'd hate to overstay my welcome with this ship, so to speak.

Also! I write for Abigail on Tumblr, so if anyone wants to come say hello or send asks (that I'll answer in character), you can come find me on shcsallrightnow. My personal Tumblr is musicboxmemories, so feel free to add me there, too! :) As always, thank you SO SO much for your kind words and support! I wouldn't have gotten here without it!

INDIVIDUAL THANK YOUS:

city bookworm: Cal doesn't trust her, no, but a part of him genuinely wants to. He sees a lot of himself in her, so he does want a friendship. But unfortunately, he's also incredibly selfish and determined to keep control of the movement, so he's always going to choose Meyerism over Abigail. That's why things worked out the way they did. Thanks so much for reading! :)