Original subtitles

Previously on Hannibal...

You make jumps you can't explain, Will.

- The evidence explains. - Then help me find some evidence.

- I wouldn't put him out there! - Should he get too close,

I need you to make sure he's not out there alone.

I don't think the Shrike killed that girl in the field.

This girl's killer thought that she was a pig.

You think this was a copycat?

I think I can help good Will, see his face.

- Hello? - They know.

You said he wouldn't get too close.

See?

We're here.

Could be a permanent

installation in your Evil Minds Museum.

Well, what we learn about Garrett Jacob Hobbs will

help us catch the next one like him.

There's still seven bodies unaccounted for.

Yeah, well, he was eating them.

Had to be some parts he wasn't eating.

Not necessarily.

All right, what if Hobbs wasn't eating alone? It's a lot of work.

Disappearing these girls, butchering them, and then

not leaving a shred of anything other than what's in this room.

- Someone he hunted with. - Someone who is in a coma,

who also happened to be someone he hunted with.

Abigail Hobbs is a suspect?

We've been conducting house-to-house interviews

at the Hobbs residence, and, uh, at this property also.

Hobbs spent a lot of time here.

Spent a lot of time with his daughter here.

She would make the ideal bait, wouldn't she?

Hobbs killed alone.

Ah. Someone else was here.

Sync and correction by GeirDM Resync for WEB-DL by lost0ne www.addic7ed.com

1x02 Amuse-bouche

Thank you.

Please stop that.

This is how I caught Garrett Jacob Hobbs.

It's his resignation letter.

Does anybody see the clue?

There isn't one.

He wrote a letter,

he left a phone number, no address. That's it.

Bad bookkeeping and dumb luck.

Garrett Jacob Hobbs is dead. The question now is

how to stop those his story is going to inspire.

He's already got one admirer.

A copycat.

Hi.

How are you, Will?

Uh, I have no idea.

Um, I didn't want you to be ambushed.

What is this, an ambush?

Ambush is later.

Immediately later... soon to now.

When Jack arrives, consider yourself ambushed.

Here's Jack.

- How was class? - Um, they applauded.

- It was inappropriate. - Well, the review board would

beg to differ. You're up for a commendation. And they've, uh,

okayed active return to the field.

The question is,

do you want to go back to the field?

I want him back in the field.

And I've told the board I'm recommending a psych eval.

Are we starting now?

Oh, the session wouldn't be with me.

Hannibal Lecter's a better fit. Your relationship's not personal.

But if you are more comfortable with Dr. Bloom...

No, I'm not going to be comfortable with anybody inside my head.

You've never killed anyone before, Will.

It's a deadly force encounter. It's a lot to digest.

I used to work Homicide.

The reason you currently used to work Homicide is because

you didn't have the stomach for pulling the trigger.

You just pulled the trigger 10 times.

Wait, so a psych eval isn't a formality?

No, it's so I can get some sleep at night. I asked you

to get close to the Hobbs thing. I need to know you didn't get

too close. How many nights did you spend in Abigail Hobbs'

hospital room, Will?

Therapy doesn't work on me.

Therapy doesn't work on you because you won't let it.

And because I know

all the tricks.

Well, perhaps you need to un-learn some tricks.

Why not have a conversation with Hannibal?

He was there. He knows what you went through.

Come on, Will.

I need my beauty sleep!

What's that?

Your psychological evaluation. You are totally functional and

more or less sane. Well done.

Did you just rubber stamp me?

Yes. Jack Crawford may lay his

weary head to rest knowing he didn't break you

and our conversation can proceed unobstructed by paperwork.

Jack thinks that I need therapy.

What you need is a way out of dark places when Jack sends you there.

Last time he sent me into a dark place,

I brought something back.

A surrogate daughter?

You saved Abigail Hobbs' life. You also orphaned her.

That comes with certain emotional obligations,

- regardless of empathy disorders. - You were there.

You saved her life too. Do you feel obligated?

Yes.

I feel a staggering amount of obligation.

I feel responsibility.

I've fantasized about scenarios where my actions may have

allowed a different fate for Abigail Hobbs.

Jack thinks Abigail Hobbs helped her dad kill those girls.

How does that make you feel?

How does it make you feel?

- I find it vulgar. - Me too.

And entirely possible.

- It's not what happened. - Jack will ask her

when she wakes up, or he'll have one of us ask her.

Is this therapy, or a support group?

It's whatever you need it to be.

And, Will,

the mirrors in your mind can reflect the best of yourself,

not the worst of someone else.

Jason, where are you taking us? I think we're lost.

Calm down, man.

I know where we are.

What is that?

I bet it's marijuana.

Mushrooms. Look, they got tubes to water 'em or something.

No, it's a marijuana plant.

That's not marijuana.

I'm pretty sure firearm accuracy isn't a prerequisite for teaching.

Well, I've been in the field before.

Now you're back

- in the saddle. Ish. - Ish indeed.

Took me 10 shots to drop Hobbs.

Zeller wanted to give you the bullets he

pulled out of Hobbs in an acrylic case, but

I told him you wouldn't think it was funny.

- Probably not. - I suggested one of those

clackin' swingin' ball things.

That would've been funny.

You're a Weaver. I took you for an isosceles guy.

I have a rotator cuff issue so I have to use the Weaver stance.

You are tight.

I got stabbed when I was a cop.

Yeah, I got stabbed in the third grade

with a number two pencil. Thought I was gonna get lead poisoning.

Uh, no lead in pencils; It's graphite.

See if that helps with the recoil.

That was better.

You come all the way down here to teach me how to shoot?

No. Jack sent me down here to find out what you know about gardening.

So, Lecter gave you the all-clear.

Therapy might work on you after all.

Therapy is an acquired taste which I have yet to acquire.

But, uh, it served your purpose. I'm back in the field.

Local police found

tire tracks on a hidden service road

and some small animal traps in the surrounding area.

He wanted to keep his crop undisturbed.

The only thing missing is the scarecrow.

OK, we've got nine bodies, various

stages of decay, and as you can see,

all very well fertilized.

He buried them in a high-nutrient compost.

He was enthusiastically encouraging decomposition.

They were buried alive with the intention of keeping them

that way... I mean, for a little while.

Long enough for the fungus to eat

away any distinguishing characteristics.

Line and rebar were used

to administer intravenous fluids after they were buried.

He was feeding them something.

No restraints?

- Just dirt. - The other end of the air-supply system

comes up over there.

It isn't a very considerate clean air solution,

which clearly wasn't a priority, 'cause he isn't lazy.

No, he's not.

You find any shitakes?

No.

Welcome back.

Tell Sam to give me a call, will you? Thank you.

Excuse me. I'm one of the parents

of the explorers who found the bodies.

I wanted to thank you for being so good with all the boys.

- Those boys were very brave. - They are good boys. - Yeah.

- You're a local police detective? - Yes ma'am.

Would it be an imposition to ask a few things?

The boys are gonna have questions and I

just want to be as honest with them as...

- Of course. - Can you, uh,

tell me what that man is doing over there by himself?

He's some kind of special consultant.

- Works for the FBI. - Huh.

I do not bind his arms or legs

as I bury him in a shallow grave.

He's alive.

But he will never be conscious again.

He won't know that he's dying.

I don't need him to.

This is my design.

- I think your family's leaving. - We drove separately.

I need an EMT!

- EMT! We need an EMT! - Don't touch him!

This may have been premature.

What did you see? Out in the field.

Hobbs.

An association?

A hallucination.

I saw him lying there in someone else's grave.

Did you tell Jack what you saw?

No.

It's stress.

Not worth reporting.

You displaced the victim of another killer's crime

with what could arguably be considered your victim.

I don't consider Hobbs my victim.

What do you consider him?

Dead.

Is it harder imagining the thrill somebody else feels killing,

now that you've done it yourself?

The arms.

Why did he leave them exposed? To hold their hands?

To feel the life leaving their bodies?

No, that's too esoteric for someone

who took the time to bury his victims

in a straight line. He's more practical.

- He was cultivating them. - He was keeping them alive.

He was feeding them intravenously.

But your farmer let his crops die. Save for the one that didn't.

Well, and the one that didn't died on the way to the hospital,

though they weren't crops; They were the fertilizer.

The bodies were covered in fungus.

The structure of a fungus mirrors that of the human brain...

an intricate web of connections.

So maybe he admires their ability to connect

the way human minds can't.

Yours can.

Yep. Um... yeah, not physically.

Is that what your farmer is looking for?

Some sort of connection?

Goodbye.

- Miss Kimball? - Yes.

Good evening. Please come in.

I've, uh, never seen a psychiatrist before.

And I am unfortunately thorough,

so you're one of three doctors I'm interviewing.

It's more or less a bake-off.

I'm very supportive of bake-offs.

It's important you find someone you're comfortable with.

I can imagine you as my therapist,

which is good.

If I can't visualize opening up

emotionally, I know it would be a problem.

May I ask why now?

Do you mind if I ask you

a few questions first? Of course not.

I love that you've written so much on social exclusion.

Since that's why I'm here, I was wondering...

Are you Freddie Lounds?

This is unethical, even for a tabloid journalist.

I am, uh,

I am so embarrassed.

I'm afraid I must ask for your bag.

What?

Your bag.

Please hand it over.

I'd rather not take it from you.

Thank you.

I was recording our conversation.

Our conversation? Yours and mine?

Yes.

No other conversation?

No.

You were very persistent about your appointment time.

How did you know when Will Graham would be here?

I may have also recorded your session with Will Graham.

You didn't answer the question. How did you know?

I can't answer that question.

Come. Sit by me.

Delete the conversations you recorded.

Doctor-patient confidentiality works both ways.

Delete it, please.

You've been terribly rude, Miss Lounds.

What's to be done about that?

[ ♪ J.S. Bach: Cello Suite No.4: Prelude ]

Loin, served with a Cumberland sauce of red fruits.

Um, loin. What kind?

- Pork. - Wonderful.

I don't get many opportunities to, uh, eat home-cooked meals.

My wife and I both work, and, uh, as hard as I tried not to,

I did wind up marrying my mother.

Your mother didn't cook?

She did, she did.

I only wish she didn't.

There was this meal

she used to prepare. She liked to call it "oriental noodles".

Spaghetti, soy sauce, bouillon cubes, and spam.

I was raised thin as a youngster.

Well, next time, bring your wife.

I'd love to have you both for dinner.

Thank you.

Mmm.

Lovely. So, why do you think Will Graham

- came back to see you? - I'm sure

he recognizes the necessity of his own support structure

if he is to go on supporting you in the field.

Well, I believe that a guy like Will Graham knows

exactly what's going on inside of his head,

which is why he doesn't want anyone else up there.

Are you not accustomed to broken ponies in your stable?

You think Will Graham's a broken pony?

I think you think Will is a broken pony.

Have you ever lost a pony, Jack?

If you're asking me whether or not I've ever

lost someone in the field, the answer is yes. Why?

I want to understand why you're so delicate with Will.

Because you don't trust him, or because

you're afraid of losing another pony?

I've already had my psych eval.

Not by me.

You've already told me about your mother. Why stop there?

Oh, great. All right.

Mm.

- What were they soaked in? - A highly concentrated mixture

of hardwoods, shredded newspaper, and pig poop...

perfect for growing mushrooms and other fungi.

It was not the mushrooms, though.

They all died of kidney failure. Dextrose in all the catheters.

He probably used some kind of dialysis or peristaltic

to pump fluids after their circulatory systems broke down.

Force-feeding them sugar water?

You know who loves sugar water? Mushrooms. They crave it.

Recovering alcoholics. They crave sugar.

Uh, don't take that personally, buddy.

- Oh, I'm not recovering. - Feed sugar to the fungus

in your body, the fungus creates alcohol, so

it's like friends helping friends, really.

It's not just alcoholics who have compromised endocrine systems.

They all died of kidney failure?

Mmhmm.

Death by diabetic ketoacidosis.

- Did you know they were diabetics? - We don't know

they were diabetics. No, they're all diabetics.

He induces a coma and puts them in the ground.

How is he inducing diabetic comas?

Changes their medication. So he's a doctor or a pharmacist

or he works somewhere in medical services.

He buries them, feeds them sugar to keep them alive

long enough for the circulatory systems to soak it up.

- So he can feed the mushrooms! - We dug up his mushroom garden.

Yeah, he's gonna want to grow a new one.

I'm picking up a prescription for Gretchen Speck.

Gretchen Speck...

- Horowitz. - Oh, it's just Speck.

We're divorced. I lost the hyphen, kept the ring.

- Insulin. - Yes.

Oh. Oh, it's the wrong one. Just...

- Uh-oh. - No, no, it's OK.

Just gonna be one second.

There. There you go.

Oh, could you sign here please?

And that's your correct address? Yeah.

- Thank you. - Thank you.

Mrs. James.

If you could sign here, please?

Thank you.

She's the chain's 10th diabetic customer to disappear

after filling a prescription for insulin,

second to disappear from this exact location.

- And the other eight? - All over the county. One pharmacist

all over the county as well. Floater, huh?

Floater's floating right here. Still logged in at his work station.

Everyone please stop what you are doing;

Put your hands in the air!

Special Agent Jack Crawford. Which one of you is

Eldon Stammets?

Eldon was just here.

- Just now. - Is his car still

in the parking lot?

His car!

Give me your baton.

Ugh!

She's alive!

EMTs! Now!

All right. We know his name,

we have his address, we have his car.

Jack. We just checked the browser history

at Stammets' work station. Am I gonna wanna hear this?

No. And yes, but mostly no.

- Freddie Lounds. - TattleCrime.com.

"The FBI isn't just hunting psychopaths, they're headhunting them

"too, offering competitive pay and benefits in the hopes

of using one demented mind..." Keep going.

- It's about Will. - Go on.

"One demented mind to catch..."

She goes into a lot of detail. Son of a bitch.

You are naughty, Miss Lounds.

Who is it?

Who is it?

Ah!

All clear.

I appreciate the pageantry, Agent Crawford,

but you can't arrest me for writing an article.

You entered a federal crime scene without permission.

- Escorted by a detective. - Under false pretence!

It is as good as permission.

You lied to a police officer.

You can't arrest me for lying.

You got all that information from a local detective?

Lots of talk about your man Graham.

Not to mention the rivalry of who gets the collar.

A local police detective looking for a pissing contest

with the FBI might have some insight.

- And evidently did. - Sure did.

You know, the unfortunate timing of your article allowed

a murderer to escape.

You were in Minnesota.

You were in the Shrike's nest. You know how I know?

'Cause you left one of these hairs behind.

You contaminated the crime scene.

Just like everywhere you go, you contaminate crime scenes.

That's obstructing justice. I can indict you

for obstructing justice.

I'd appreciate it if you didn't.

You don't write another word about Will Graham

and I won't have to.

You used me.

"He and the Grandmother discussed better times."

The old lady said that

"in her opinion, Europe was entirely

to blame for the way things were now. She said..."

What are you reading?

Flannery O'Connor.

When I was Abigail's age,

I was obsessed. I even tried to raise peacocks

because she raised peacocks.

But... they were really stupid birds.

You could be reading to a killer.

Innocent until guilty and all that.

I'm about to broach the subject

of that "Takes One to Know One" article.

Oh, that.

Did Jack send you?

No, I sent me.

I don't think we've ever been alone in a room together, have we?

I haven't noticed. Have we?

Not that we're necessarily alone now.

Yeah, right. Back to...

"Jack Crawford's crime gimp". It certainly creates an image.

I don't need to talk about it

if you don't. No, no, we can talk about

or not talk about whatever you want.

Actually, I was...

I was just enjoying listening to you read.

Abigail Hobbs is a success for you.

She doesn't look like a success.

Don't feel sorry for yourself

because you saved this girl's life. I don't.

I don't feel sorry for myself at all.

I feel, um...

I-I...

I feel, um...

good.

Don't know where you got half that information.

It wasn't from me.

I may have made some inferences.

They think I told you all of it.

They saw you talking to me.

They think it's my fault Stammets escaped.

- I'm sorry I got you fired. - I wasn't fired.

I was suspended. They're gonna fire you.

Jack Crawford will make sure of that.

You...

you stir the hornet's nest, and I'm the one who gets stung?

I can help you get work outside the force, if you want me to.

I know people in private security.

Not the first cop you got fired.

Guarantee you it pays better. Right now,

future you is thanking me.

I read your article.

Tell me about Will Graham.

Hey, Jack.

Miss Lounds?

Go ahead and stand down, officer. Miss Lounds, are you all right?

Where's Will Graham?

We have an eyewitness to the murder.

We don't need Will Graham. No, that's not why I'm asking.

Someone find me Will Graham!

This is about Will? He was talking about people

having the same properties of a fungus. Stammets?

Thoughts leaping from brain to brain. They mutate, they evolve.

Well, what does he want with Will Graham?

Someone who understands him.

Graham was right. Stammets is looking for connections.

What did you tell him?

I need to know

what you told Eldon Stammets about Will Graham.

I told him about the Hobbs girl.

What did you tell him?

Everything.

He wants to help Will Graham connect with Abigail Hobbs.

He's gonna bury her.

Sorry.

- Hello? - [lt's Jack.]

[Are you at the hospital?] Yes, I am.

[Stammets knows about Abigail Hobbs.]

Where is she? Abigail Hobbs, the girl in 408. Where is she?

- They took her for tests. - Who took her?

Who took her?!

Hey!

What were you gonna do to her?

We all evolved from mycelium.

I'm simply reintroducing her to the concept.

By burying her alive?

The journalist said you understood me.

I don't.

Well, you would have.

You would have.

If you walk through a field of mycelium,

they know you are there. They know you are there.

The spores reach for you as you walk by.

I know who you're reaching for. I know.

Abigail Hobbs.

And you should have let me plant her.

You would have found her in a field,

where she was finally able to reach back!

When you shot Eldon Stammets,

who was it that you saw?

I didn't see Hobbs.

Then it's not Hobbs' ghost that's haunting you, is it?

It's the inevitability

of there being a man so bad that killing him felt good.

Killing Hobbs felt just.

Which is why you're here...

to prove that sprig of zest you feel is

from saving Abigail, not from killing her dad.

I didn't feel a sprig of zest when I shot Eldon Stammets.

You didn't kill Eldon Stammets.

I thought about it.

I'm still not entirely sure that wasn't my intention

pulling the trigger.

If your intention was to kill him,

it's because you understand why he did the things he did.

It's beautiful in its own way...

giving voice to the unmentionable.

I should've stuck to fixing boat motors in Louisiana.

A boat engine is a machine, a predictable problem, easy to solve.

You fail, there's a paddle. Where was your paddle with Hobbs?

- You're supposed to be my paddle. - I am.

It wasn't the act of killing Hobbs that got you down, was it?

Did you really feel so bad because killing him felt so good?

I liked killing Hobbs.

Killing must feel good to God too...

he does it all the time.

And are we not created in his image?

That depends who you ask.

God's terrific.

He dropped a church roof on 34 of his worshippers

last Wednesday night in Texas, while they sang a hymn.

And did God feel good about that?

He felt powerful.

Sync and correction by GeirDM Resync for WEB-DL by lost0ne www.addic7ed.com