Colliding worlds (Hannibal x OC)

Butting hearts

Well, well. It seemed the psychiatrist was at the mercy of human feelings after all. Good, or bad news ? Hannibal mulled over it; it depended on the point of view. Frances would be delighted to take a peek at his heart and see it beating, while he didn't particularly relish in the weakness of human emotions. Yet... perhaps an apology was in order.

But it would have to wait, though, because she didn't return. Neither in the evening, nor at night. Hannibal had no trouble finding sleep – a side effect of the surgery – but his dreams were plagued by her agonised cries. The second day, a delivery man came to the room with red roses, and a proper meal from a nearby restaurant. Filet mignon and mashed potatoes. Attached to the flower was a card, written by her hand. The quill had trembled at the bottom, and reality suddenly crashed. Would he ever see her again ? Had she eventually realised that she couldn't handle it ? Handle him ? Has she disappeared like she had promised to do on the first night, never to return ? He wouldn't chase her; the unspoken promise between them still held.

"Get well. Do not worry about me, I hired a nurse

Forever yours,

Frances"

Bereft, Hannibal lost his gaze in the contemplation of the red blossoms she had chosen for him. Would it be the last token of a loving wife who had nearly sacrificed herself for him ? Was he really worth it ? He missed her now. Her laugh, her quick wit, her teasing. Her secret smiles and twinkling eyes. He had gotten so used to having her close, to finding her home to exchange his view of the world or opinions on whatever was on the news. The nurse found him in his own little world, then the doctor came, asking about his wife whereabouts. He was rather ashamed to admit that he had no idea where she could be.

A few hours later, Will and Jack Crawford came to Hannibal's room, their faces grave. The head of behaviorial sciences didn't beat around the bush as he announced.

— "Freddie Lounds is dead"

Hannibal's eyebrows shot up, surprised by this new development, but not too disappointed.

— "What happened ?", he asked.

It was Will who responded, stubbornly refusing to meet his eyes.

— "The red dragon shot her before he came to get you. One bullet to the head as per the modum operandi"

— "This is grave news indeed"

Crawford fidgeted for a moment before he made for the door.

— "I would never wish for someone's death, but since she sent him after you with her article, I guess we can call it karma and leave it at that. Another victim of the Red Dragon"

Frowning, Hannibal tried to catch Will's gaze.

— "I didn't think miss Lounds would be a target. I don't understand his motives"

— "Neither do I. But I am glad this is over and you are recovering, Dr Lecter. Now I must be on my way, give my respects to your wife"

And Jack left without even realising that Frances' bed was not even unmade. Will trailed beside his, his eyes lingering on the bandages that adorned Hannibal's forearms. Then he sat at his feet.

— "Where is Frances ?"

The psychiatrist cocked his head aside, wondering how he was going to explain her absence.

— "You know her, she hates hospitals. She left..."

The empath jumped on his feet.

— "What ? What about her leg ? Where is she ? I should visit her to make sure she is allright"