Previously on Hannibal..
You wanted me to embrace my nature, doctor.
Are you going to try to hurt Hannibal again? Is he safe?
From me? Or for you?
- I'd like to resume my therapy. - Where shall we begin?
I'm gonna prove Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper.
It's not him. I could hear his voice. I could not see his face.
You will not see it until it is too late.
You can't trust her, Jack.
You can't trust any of this to be what it seems.
I get it. The great outdoors.
I, uh... get the attraction.
In summer.
Well, it's a lot harder to catch trout
when the water is really cold.
That's another argument for summer, Will.
But trout are supposed to be hunters.
- Like, they should be chewing on my hook here. - Yeah, when it's cold,
their metabolisms drop and they're not as hungry.
Yeah, so how do you catch a fish that isn't hungry?
Change your tactics. Use live bait...
that moves and excites them to action.
You--you gotta make him bite even though he's not hungry.
Make him act on instinct. He's always a predator.
You have to create a reality where only you and the fish exist.
Your lure is the one thing he wants, despite everything he knows.
- Make a wrong move, he swims away? - Yeah.
I'm a good fisherman, Jack.
You hook him,
I'll land him.
Truite saumonée au bleu
with vegetables and broth,
served with a hollandaise sauce on the side.
Beautiful fish, Will.
It was my turn to provide the meat.
More flavorful and firm
than farmed specimens.
I find the trout to be a very nietzschean fish.
Trials of his wild existence
find their way into the flavor of the flesh.
I hope "providing the meat" doesn't mean you still harbor doubts
about what I serve at my table.
No doubts, Dr. Lecter.
Only the, uh... wounds
we dealt each other
- until we got to the truth. - Which is why
we need to move past apologies and forgiveness.
Chilton has many victims besides the dead.
We will absorb this experience.
It will change us.
Well, we are all Nietzschean fish in that regard.
Makes us tastier.
None of our actions were personal.
I tried to have Hannibal killed.
- Isn't that personal? - You thought I was a killer.
The greatest crime now would be to walk away
from what we've shared and suffered.
In many ways, we need each other. We are the only ones
who will know what this feels like.
This fish is delicious.
Isn't it?
I came in this morning and I found
all the horses with hoods on.
She was lying dead in her stall.
She had a foal two days ago?
Yeah, born dead. She hasn't eaten since,
pining I guess.
Feels like she's still pregnant.
Did they check for twins?
Who performed this c-section?
She didn't have a c-section. Those weren't there yesterday.
Yeah, there's something in here all right...
I agree with the pagans.
The horse is divine.
All beasts of burden are sacred animals.
This kind of mutilation
usually presents as cult activity.
When an animal is sacrificed, it's presumed the power
of the beast will be psychically transported
to whoever's offering up the goods.
Which is why sacrificial animals should be healthy,
without any defects.
This horse was sick. The womb was more or less intact.
The victim was deceased before she was enwombed.
The ecchymosis of the subcutaneous tissue is consistent with--
She was strangled. That's a little wordy.
Yeah...
She was scrappy. She put up a fight, Jack.
The horse is a chrysalis,
a cocoon meant to hold the young woman until her death
- could be transformed. - Transformed into what?
Life. A new life.
This is a birth.
Or it was intended to be.
This is every bit as much about giving life as it is taking it.
What's the thinking here, doctor?
Conflicted.
I see what he's done. I don't understand
why he's done it.
This killer doesn't think like anyone else, Jack.
You'll have to find someone who doesn't think like anyone else,
to catch him.
Ah!
You should have taken the chocolate, Margot.
You are no more at fault for what happened to you
than if you had been bitten by a mad dog.
Mad dogs are put down.
Is that what you hoped to accomplish when you attacked your brother?
Well, apparently,
I went about "putting him down" the wrong way.
He's still alive.
Doing bad things to bad people
makes us feel good.
What's your relationship with him now?
Has it changed?
I think he thinks, I've calmed down.
Have you?
Oh, I'm calm.
Are you going to try again?
This is where therapy gets a little tricky.
It doesn't have to be tricky.
I could confess to a murder.
You can't say a word.
I could've murdered someone this morning
and you can't say a word.
But if I'm planning to commit a murder...
I am ethically obliged to take action to prevent that murder.
But be that as it may, if there's no one else to protect you, Margot,
you have to protect yourself.
It would actually have been more therapeutic if you had killed him.
I'm not complaining, but part of me suspects we ended up here
to avoid where our conversation was going.
As long as you're not complaining.
Too much has happened for us not to talk about this.
- However pleasant the distractions. - Well, I am recovering
from all that has happened. So is Will.
So are you.
I would change many things,
but not that we ended up here.
Or that Will is back in therapy.
The only thing stranger, than finding a woman
inside a horse...
Is seeing you back in therapy with Will Graham.
Is it really so strange?
He tried to murder you.
Do you know why Will tried to kill me?
It wasn't to avenge Beverly Katz's death.
It was to prevent yours.
He was protecting you in the only way, he felt he had left to him.
I'm afraid Will opened a door inside himself
and no one knows if it closed again.
Especially not Will.
Then it's healthy, he's back in therapy.
With a good psychiatrist.
Her name is Sarah Craber.
She was a horse groom, at the stables where her body was found.
- She was reported missing last week. - Got a hand-spread on her neck.
We didn't find anything else on her, except horse uterus.
The uterus isn't always such a safe, forgiving environment.
Shark fetuses cannibalize each other in utero.
And chances are very good everybody in this room
absorbed a twin. Mine survived.
- Her throat's obstructed. Do you wanna... - Yep.
It's soil... someone packed it in there
real good too. It's not even on her teeth.
Oh!
- You dropped it. - I'll get it.
- Thanks. - I'll test the PH levels,
see what kind of organic matter
or trace elements, we come up with.
Should be able to figure out where it came from.
- She has a heartbeat. - What?
- She's in rigor mortis-- - She doesn't have a pulse.
She has a heartbeat.
She doesn't--
She has a heartbeat.
Something's beating.
I don't want you to see me.
I don't want you to see what I do.
But I want to calm you,
comfort you.
There's so much comfort in darkness.
But not for one of you.
I took your life...
And tried to give it back to you.
I find the womb,
and place you inside.
I hope that the forces
of death and biology...
Will bring you... rebirth.
It was a coffin birth.
Decomposition builds up gasses
inside the putrefying body
which force the dead fetus out of its mother's corpse.
It's really more of a prolapse than a birth.
But whoever did this knew the horse.
Knew she was dying because her foal
was born dead.
He knew Sarah Craber.
He was familiar with the stables. He knew when he wouldn't get caught.
And he works here, or maybe--
maybe used to work here.
He has medical knowledge of animals,
but he's not a veterinarian.
He--he considers himself a healer.
How is this healing?
Sarah Craber was reborn.
This wasn't murder, Jack.
This was grief.
- Scare them when ya knock like that. - Peter Bernardone?
Sir?
You don't seem to be curious about who we are.
Who are you?
I'm agent Jack Crawford
with the FBI. This is will Graham.
We're here to ask you some questions about someone
you may have had contact with when you worked
at the Blackbriar stables. A woman named Sarah Craber.
Her body was recently found
- in, uh... unusual circumstances. - I know.
I know. I heard.
There was a bird in her chest. Did you hear about that?
Was the bird alive?
Yes.
Who--who--who taking care of the bird?
- How well did you know Sarah Craber? - I didn't know her.
Would you mind looking at a photograph?
I--
I--I know who she is.
I didn't--didn't know her.
Just...
Take a look to be sure.
Did you get your head injury when you were working at the stables, Peter?
Yeah, okay. Kicked by a horse. Boom.
That's an atypical motor response.
Peter's abilities to look and touch
can only happen as separate events.
It's aggravated by stress, right?
Are you feeling under stress?
Yeah, I'm worried about the bird.
Worried about the bird.
I'm sad for her death, sad for the horse, but I...
I can only--
only help the bird.
Well, he knew the victim. He knew the animals involved.
We'll need a warrant.
I don't know if he's the killer, Jack.
If he is, he never meant to be. And if he isn't,
he knows who is.
You were able to reconstruct
this killer's fantasies.
One dead creature giving birth to another.
The bird, his victim's new beating heart.
Her soul given wings.
Rebirths can only ever be symbolic.
You've been reborn.
Wasn't that the goal of my therapy?
How does it feel consulting again with Jack Crawford and the FBI?
Last time, it nearly destroyed you.
Last time, you nearly destroyed me.
After everything that has happened, Will,
- you still believe-- - Stop right there.
You may have to pretend,
but I don't.
No, you don't.
Not with me.
I don't expect you to admit anything. You can't.
But I prefer sins of omission
to outright lies, Dr. Lecter.
Don't lie to me.
Will you return the courtesy?
Why have you resumed your therapy?
Can't just talk to any psychiatrist
about what's kicking round my head.
Do you fantasize about killing me?
Yes.
Tell me. How would you do it?
With my hands.
Then we haven't moved past apologies and forgiveness, have we?
We've moved past a lot of things.
I discovered a truth about myself
when I tried to have you killed.
That doing bad things to bad people makes you feel good?
Yes.
I need to know if you're going to try to kill me again, Will.
I don't want to kill you anymore, Dr. Lecter.
Not now that I finally find you interesting.
Will...
I owe you an apology.
You don't owe me anything.
I thought you were a killer.
I didn't want to hear anything else.
So, I wouldn't consider anything else.
The evidence was compelling.
That didn't stop Beverly from questioning it.
Maybe if she thought we would've listened,
she would have come to us.
She didn't.
We traced the soil we found in Sarah Craber's throat
to this vicinity. Methane probes did the rest.
Found her empty grave...
And fifteen others that are not
- so empty. - If Peter Bernardone
knew about Sarah Craber's grave, then he knew about all the others.
Every human being is capable
of committing acts of great cruelty.
Your brother dis-humanized you, and your family unfortunately
fosters that climate of disrespect.
They think I'm weird.
I'm much weirder than you will ever be, Margot.
It's fine to be weird.
They've already forgiven him.
Talk shows and self-help books,
they thrive on this sort of thing.
Everybody loves a sinner redeemed.
The prodigal son, set about repairing his ways.
He may have made bad choices before,
but now he can make new, better choices.
Do you believe that?
- Do you believe me? - Well, it's not my role to believe you, Margot;
it's my role to help you understand what you believe.
I believe my brother won't stop.
How does it make you feel?
Angry.
Anger is an energizing emotion;
prompts action against threat. If you're angry,
you're optimistic you can stop this from happening again.
Oh, I know how to stop it.
If you really want to kill your brother, Margot,
wait until you can get away with it.
Or find someone to do it for you.
You said you were worried about the bird.
Thought you might like to see it.
But isn't--
isn't it the evidence?
I'm not FBI.
I used to sort of be FBI.
But now I'm really not.
I--I didn't--
- didn't kill--kill anyone. I-- - I know that,
but...
it's not always relevant.
They found Sarah Craber's grave.
How'd you find it?
She--she's already speaking to me.
This one's spoken to you before.
At some point,
almost every society believed birds
carried our souls to the afterlife.
You--you think I think
this bird is--is Sarah?
She's gone.
She's everywhere and nowhere.
She...
Tell me who killed her.
I just wanted something beautiful for her.
You were grieving her.
You couldn't save her,
but you could bring
poetry to her death.
I wanted you to find me.
I wanted you to find me, cause if you could find me, you could--could...
You could find him.
Do you have a shadow, Peter?
Someone only you can see.
Someone you considered a friend.
He made you feel less alone.
Until you saw what he really is.
No... no one
will believe me.
He'll make sure no one will believe me.
I'll make sure they do.
Every social worker enjoys certain aspects of the job
more than others. There are cases that you reach
and cases you don't reach.
Your notes on Peter Bernardone's file
are drastically different
- than the ones from his last case worker. - The social services system
is far from perfect.
It's common to omit certain information on difficult cases
in order to clear a path in the world
for those stuck in the weeds.
Peter's had persistent cognitive problems. Confusion,
paranoia, rage.
Would have refused his case if I had known.
You don't seem to feel sorry for your client.
A surprising lack of empathy in a social worker.
Peter Bernardone has accused me of killing sixteen women.
How does that make you feel?
Right now I'm feeling inconvenienced.
I'm being detained on the word of one very damaged individual.
You're not being detained,
you're being interviewed.
The FBI is just being thorough.
What are you writing down?
- An observation. - About me?
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel
uncomfortable.
That's smart.
She keeps pushing him on his feelings, not on the facts.
She's trying to gauge how comfortable he is with emotion,
if he has any. He couldn't bear being touched by her.
Yes, his responses are typical of psychopaths during interviews,
but could also be resentment.
No, his eyes are dead.
He's a predator.
- Did you know Sarah Craber? - No.
Peter talked about her extensively though during our house visits.
I'd say he was obsessed with her.
Do you think Peter Bernardone
is capable of murder?
I'm not a psychiatrist, Dr. Bloom.
I'm curious,
Mr. Ingram.
Why did you become a social worker?
Society needs caring people.
It also needs a few psychopaths...
to keep the rest of us on our toes.
There is no evidence I did this.
And if you'd like to know how I feel...
I feel like I don't want to be here anymore.
So, if you're not detaining me,
I'd like to be on my way now.
Let him go.
You're making a mistake, Jack.
I've got nothing to hold him on.
Peter Bernardone is psychologically disadvantaged.
He's been manipulated. As his social worker,
this man is in a position of trust, and he has betrayed that trust.
I know what it's like to point at a killer and have no one listen.
You pointed in the wrong direction.
What have you done, Peter?
I'm worried about you.
You've been expressing a lot of rage recently.
So often in my line of work, I see people take out their resentments
on those closest to them.
It's a sad fact of human nature...
and you're prone to extremes of emotion.
The way you think is compromised.
You're destroying your life.
Sarah was a bitter reminder of everything you'll never have. And this...
is the very horse that kicked you in the head.
Didn't mean to... She was just scared.
Some will say, this was a long time coming.
I know I will. I already have.
Sixteen women, Peter.
You killed them because...
- You weren't worthy of them. - You killed them.
You killed them!
If I had killed them, it would be because...
They were worthy of me.
You look like a man who has suffered an irrevocable loss.
I'm trying to prevent one.
Do you think if you save Peter Bernardone,
- you can save yourself? - Save myself from what, Dr. Lecter?
From who you perceive me to be.
I'm afraid I need to be saved
- from who you perceive me to be. - Many troublesome behaviors
strike when you are uncertain of yourself.
Peter Bernardone lies in the same darkness that holds you.
No...
- I'm alone in that darkness. - You're not alone, Will.
I'm standing right beside you.
Peter...
Is your social worker in that horse?
Yes.
I used to have--used to have a horrible fear
of--of hurting anything.
But...
He helped me get over that.
Feels so abnormal.
An abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation
is normal behavior.
I think--
think he deserves to die.
But...
But you didn't deserve to kill him, Peter.
I want you to come with me.
What was done to you
was cruelty
for cruelty's sake.
I think I hate him.
I envy you your hate.
It makes it easier when you know how to feel.
What-- makes what easier?
Killing.
I--I didn't kill him...
I just wanted him to--to understand
what it's like to--to suffocate
and to--to--to experience
the destiny that he created.
Mr. Ingram...
Might want to crawl back in there, if you know what's good for you.
Officer...
I'm the victim here.
I'm not an officer.
I'm Peter's friend.
Peter's confused.
I'm not.
Pick up the hammer.
Will.
Pick it up.
It won't feel the same, Will.
- It won't feel like killing me. - It doesn't have to.
You did the best anyone could do for Peter,
but don't do this for him.
If you're going to do this, Will...
You have to do it for yourself.
P-please don't.
You would be wise to remain silent, Mr. Ingram.
Will.
This is not the reckoning you promised yourself.
With all my knowledge and intrusion, I could never
entirely predict you.
I can feed the caterpillar,
and I can whisper
through the chrysalis, but...
what hatches
follows its own nature
and is beyond me.
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