Their child was strange, his eyes far to intelligent. When Christopher had been born, he hadn’t made a sound, the only indicator he was alive was the healthy color of his skin and his steady breathing.
Biruta and Emilis were happy those first few weeks, especially when their son showed signs of being exceptional mentally. He was sitting up unassisted by six months, he looked to be reading at the same time. There was only one problem they were having; Christopher would not speak.
He refused to even acknowledge his parents most times. They had taken to bringing him to specialists and therapists. Every one told them he was capable to speaking, he just chose not to. Emilis had tried to bribe his son into speaking, when that didn’t work, he went with punishment. It started simply enough with timeouts and time in the corner. The more frustrated he got he more physical the punishment got. Two days before their child’s birthday he took his hand to his child before placing him in a corner and leaving the room.
The Lecter adults were getting ready to celebrate Christopher’s third birthday, Emilis was just leaving work when his phone rang. He hit the speaker button on the steering wheel, as soon as the phone connected his wife was screaming into the device. “Please tell me you are almost home! Something happened, you have to get here! There is so much blood, Christopher! Spit that out!”
“I’ll be there in just a few moments Mažasis, stay calm.”
Emilis hurried into the house, rushing into the kitchen. Their live-in cook was on the ground in a corner sobbing as she held her bloody arm to her chest. Biruta was wielding a knife and pointing towards Christopher. Their son stood there calmly, blood surrounding his mouth and dripping down his chin.
“Mažasis, what happened?” Emilis asked gently grasping her arm and making her lower the knife.
“I do not know! I was setting up the dining room, then I heard screaming, I found Christopher on top of her, latched onto her arm. He bit her, tore chunks from her arm and swallowed them! I tried to get him to spit it out, he just stopped when the door opened. H-he already swallowed them; he ate part of her.”
“She was being unspeakably rude, she’s a thief. She was going to poison us with the birthday cake.”
Emilis and Biruta’s eyes widened, “Ch-Christopher?” Biruta dropped the knife and stepped forward; her hands out reached towards him.
“Stop calling me that, my name is Hannibal.” The little boy turned and left the kitchen.
Hannibal still did not speak much, he refused to answer when they called him Christopher. It took his parents six months to start calling him Hannibal and little time afterwards to draw up the papers and get his name changed.
He was now the ninth of his name.
Hannibal was irritated, he had been dropped off with these horrid little beasts, he scowled at his paper. It looked like he was perhaps not the only one reborn, he wondered if the teacher was the same Alana Bloom from his previous life. He looked up as he heard feet thundering towards him, he caught a glimpse of dark curly hair and blue eyes before he was tackled.
They slammed into the ground with a grunt, the little boy who tackled him had his face buried in his neck, “H-Hannibal. I thought…the cliff.” The boy didn’t finish before he broke into sobs.
Hannibal knew who this was and he was relieved, Will was with him. Will was with him and he remembered. He wrapped his arms around the other boy’s frame, ignoring the adults who surrounded them as he soothed his Will. Soft murmurs in the accent he still carried, though would be attributed to his current parents own accents. “It’s ok, I’m here.” There was no letting Will go this time, they had a lifetime and no age gap between them now.