I own nothing. All my Hannibal stories are also on my AO3 account, ThatGirlTheyKnow, and my writing blog on Tumblr, wordsareagirlsbestfriend.
(I have no explanation for this story, I just really love dogs.)
Alana Bloom's house was decorated in an understated sort of elegance. Her furniture was expensive and practical and ever-tasteful, and sometimes, when her mind was unburdened enough to carry the thought, she mused that it was wasted on just herself.
Tonight, however, she had company. Seven dogs of varying breeds and sizes were lying around her living room, impeccably behaved and broodingly silent. They weren't like other dogs Alana had interacted with, they didn't want to play or be showered with love; hell, they weren't like they themselves had been just a few weeks ago. They were upset, and missing their home and their owner and the love and care that he had showed them.
Alana didn't like to think about just how long these dogs might be missing Will.
For the most part, the dogs wandered around her home, looking distinctly sad and letting out soft, heartbreaking whines when they did not find their owner. They ate, they drank, and they allowed her to pet them when she felt like it, but they were, all and all, a pretty miserable sight.
Alana, after eating a dinner for one she had prepared herself, stepped into her living room and surveyed the dogs. Their heads perked up at the smell of food that wafted in from the kitchen, but they all stayed in their respective beds.
"Hey, guys," she whispered as she stepped around them to her couch. On her way, the smallest of the dogs licked her ankle and one of them head butted her leg. She smiled and scratched him behind the ears.
When she made it to the couch, a soft whimper came from the corner of the room. She saw Winston sit up and slowly make his way over to her.
She didn't want to let him on her couch. This was an expensive couch.
Winston barked softly at her, a question.
Despite herself, Alana felt tears well up in her eyes.
"Come 'ere, boy," she said, leaning forward. The dog climbed up onto the couch and curled up beside her, his head in her lap. "Good boy," she whispered to him. She savoured the comforting presence of the animal, a creature that didn't judge her, or feel sorry for her, or ask her to talk about her relationship with Will. Alana ran her hands through his soft, well-kept fur and scratched behind his ears.
"You miss Will so much, don't you?" she asked Winston. He seemed to understand the question, because at the name, the dog started batting his tail and he whined, burying his face further into her lap. "You and me both."
Alana felt the tears that had been threatening to spill over fall down her cheeks and onto Winston's fur. She let out a broken sob and Winston, noticing her distress, climbed up fully onto her lap to lick away her tears. She wrapped her arms around the dog and he sat patiently while she cried for his absent master.