Colliding worlds (Hannibal x OC)

Aborted conference

Glass of champagne in one hand, impeccable suit clinging to his lean body, hair slicked back in his favourite style, Hannibal was in his element as he navigated the throng of psychiatrists that had attended the conference. His easy smile, practised over many years of socialising, easily fooled people into thinking he was pleased. Never had he voiced his utter suspicions about the science they all called psychiatry. For even if he relished in probing the mind, Hannibal despised all those doctors who thought they understood the human condition by dissecting its childhood. Putting them in little boxes, naming syndromes, relishing in a newfound case for everyone to gush over. Yet no one could have possibly named what he was. Nor a psychopath, nor a sociopath, maniac even less, bipolar? Not even close.

Hannibal didn't fit anywhere, and he relished in that fact, his intelligence swimming over their heads as they congratulated themselves on the latest finds about Stockholm's syndrome, or the new Oedipal complex. The presence of Alana Bloom by his side had made the conference bearable. Her comments, questions and pointed remarks showed how unafraid she was of the entity of eminent figures that loomed on stage. He was proud to see that her critical mind had beneficiated from his teachings; a worthy student. For now, though, she was engrossed in a debate he absolutely refused to linger upon about young children. So Hannibal wandered a little further, studying people, engaging in conversation here and there, his three-piece suit still in pristine condition despite the buffet. The psychiatrist had not eaten much; he would cook at home. A warm buzz spread in his limbs at the thought. He had a wife now, awaiting his return. And since she had woken a little stiff – her usual grace was missing this morning – she would probably get a massage afterwards. Bella's death had taken a toll on her mood, and he thrived to care for her as well as he could. It was weird, to feel needed; it gave him purpose.

The sudden vibrations of his phone in his outer pocket had him excuse himself from a boring conversation and a flirty lady. Aside from Jack, Frances and Will, no one should have triggered the device to set off. A quick glance at the screen told him it was the latter. Probably an FBI emergency, for Will was perfectly aware of his attendance at the conference, thanks to Alana. Those two danced around each other. His treatment for encephalitis had brought Will a new stability to which Alana responded with eagerness. How long before they became romantically involved? Her innocence and naivety told him she could be good for Will. The psychiatrist sighed, considering how far he'd strayed from the path he had set into motion when first meeting Will Graham. 

Discovering of their mutual past as brothers in arms had shifted his perspective, putting a stop to his mind games to try to mend a damaged brotherhood. Frances' plea had touched him; she wouldn't have to come between the two of them anymore. Galahad and Tristan. Since the young woman had killed for him, he didn't feel the need to pry the killer out of Will so acutely. A soul for a soul. This is what Tristan would have done at the time, goading his younger brother until he relented to his very nature. But he was Tristan no more.

Picking up the line, Hannibal answered quickly.

— "Hello Will. Is everything all right?"

— "Er. I'm not sure. Have you heard of your wife this afternoon?"

Hannibal frowned, uneasiness creeping up his spine at Will's uncertain tone. Suddenly, his mind wasn't so focused on the lady – a false blonde who would never understand his recent fondness for redheads – whose eyes were still glued on his form.

— "No, I haven't. Weren't you supposed to meet for lunch?"

— "We did. She was feeling a little feverish, and left early."

Hannibal froze. Fever ... that would explain the stiffness. Nothing too alarming, but Will sounded downright panicked.

— "I've been trying to call after my latest class, her phone keeps ringing but I can't reach her."