A/N: This is my attempt to process and make sense of RELEVE. I'm certain I wasn't the only one who actually screamed at the television at the end. Please R&R.

"Are you going to kill me?" she asked.

I gently stroked her cheek. "I'm so sorry, Abigail. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you in this life."

The very last thing I had said to Abigail Hobbs ran through my mind repeatedly. I hung up my coat, slipping off my gloves and placing them into one of the pockets. I sighed as I removed my scarf.

I had just come home from burying Abigail. Will wasn't able to attend, of course. It did sadden me that he was unable to see Abigail laid to rest, to see how peaceful she seemed.

It had been only Dr. Alana Bloom and myself at her graveside. Jack refused to come, conflicted by his unhappiness that his show pony William Graham might be broken and the fact that he can no longer bring Abigail to what was, in his narrow mind, justice. I wondered which unhappiness was greater.

Freddie Lounds had tried to come but heeded Alana's warning to stay away. Pity… I would have had an exquisite dinner party if she'd been rude enough to come despite the warnings. Yet I am nothing if not a patient man.

I made my way into the kitchen. Out of my fridge I took a plain clear container containing the heart of the young woman I had just helped bury. I hadn't wanted to take any of her organs (she deserved all of them), but she had to be another victim of the "Copycat Killer" – of Will.

As water heated to a boil, I quickly sliced the heart into small slices. I drizzled olive oil into a frying pan, heated it slightly, and added the slices of heart to sauté. As the meat cooked, I diced an onion and a tomato. Whole-wheat pasta went into now-boiling water as I added basil and oregano to the pan, and once it was cooked well enough I added the diced onions to cook in the juice the heart was producing. I added the tomatoes once the onions were cooked, just long enough to soften them but not overcook them. I drained the water from the pasta once it had cooked properly.

I prepared my plate and poured myself a glass of wine. I carried both into my dining room and sat in my usual spot at the head of the table. As I lay my napkin in my lap, I thought back to how merely a week ago I had sat in that same spot and eaten with Will and Abigail, and Will and I had defended Abigail against Ms. Lounds. I bit my lip as I thought back. I cleared my throat and then raised my glass as a toast to Abigail.

Before I drank, I closed my eyes and swirled the glass under my nose. I inhaled the wine's intoxicating scent and then drank. As I set the glass down, I glanced over at the other end of the table.

Abigail sat, leaning back in the chair. Her eyes were on me. She wore the same clothes and coat she had on when I found her in Minnesota. After a moment, I looked back down at my plate and continued eating.

I heard her voice. "You're not going to acknowledge me?"

Without looking up, I responded, "You do not exist anymore. There is nothing to acknowledge."

"But you just acknowledged me now."

"You spoke to me. It would be rude not to acknowledge you after you spoke," I countered. I continued looking at my plate and eating.

After a few more moments of silence, she stood up and sat closer to me, in the seat she had been in when we ate with Ms. Lounds. "Are you really not going to say anything about it?"

"About what?"

"About the fact that you killed me."

I paused, my fork halfway to my lips. I looked at Abigail. "What about that would you like to discuss, Abigail?" I finished the bite.

"The 'why,'" Abigail answered. "I think I deserve to know."

I wiped my mouth on my napkin. "I explained that to you. Before."

"Before you killed me," she clarified.

"I didn't want you to waste away in prison. Was that so horrible of me?" I asked.

Abigail shook her head. "No. But… that wasn't the only reason why, was it?"

"What other reason could I possibly have?"

"I knew you were the caller," Abigail answered without hesitation. "If it had ever come up, if I'd ever dared to tell Will… everything would've fallen apart for you." After a moment she added, "You never forgave me for writing the book or digging up Nicholas Boyle's body, did you?"

"I warned you that you had betrayed my trust, Abigail," I said forcefully. "But no, that is not why."

"What about Will? You're sacrificing him to save yourself. Did you sacrifice me to frame him?"

"They already believe Will killed many people… him having killed you wouldn't have any additional benefit," I responded.

"Except you told Jack that he had delusions of being my father. So he had to kill me, like my father wanted to. Otherwise your story wouldn't have held up, would it?"

"Enough, Abigail!" I nearly screamed, turning away. I took a moment to compose myself and then turned back. In a softer voice I said, "Please… do not deny me the small shred of humanity I still have."

Abigail cocked her head to the side. "I hope you still have it, Dr. Lecter."

"You don't think there is any humanity left in me?"

"I hope there is," Abigail answered. She stood and came over to me. She rested her hand on mine. "I really hope there is."

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them she was gone. I blinked and looked down at my food. For the first time I could remember, I had lost my appetite.