Title: Carry You, Day 15 of 30 Days of Hannibloom
Fandom: Hannibal
Pairing: Hannibloom
Rating: pg-13
Author's notes: This does follow the previous chapter.
Day 15- I can't believe I've made it halfway through, oh my gosh!

She was set to be released from the hospital a week later. She refused to go to a nursing home for her recovery. She pondered her options: she could ask her day nurse for a live-in referral, or perhaps ask her mother to take an extended visit from Canada, or…

"Would you stay with me, while I recover? I know it's a lot to ask, but I need you, Hannibal. I'll have a nurse during the day while you consult and see patients. But at night…"

Hannibal answered in her pause. "Of course, my dear."

She smiled up at him and said, "Then take me home."

When they got to Alana's house, Hannibal helped her out of the car and into her shiny new wheelchair. Then they both just stopped and stared.

"We forgot…" he started.

"…the steps," she finished.

He looked down at Alana and nodded. He walked away and opened her door with the keys she'd provided. When he walked back over to her, he stated, "Well, then it's clear what I need to do." And before she could stop him, he reached down and hooked one strong arm around her back and another under her legs, moving surely but carefully around the cast-covered leg. She gasped as she felt herself lifted into the air with a whoosh.

He walked up the steps, carrying her as easily as if she were a doll. Sometimes she was astounded at his unassuming strength; this was one of those times. He carried her over the threshold of her home.

"That's not the way I pictured it," she remarked.

"Pictured what, my dear?"

"You, carrying me over the threshold. Like we're married."

She watched as his jaw clenched, and she mentally kicked herself. She'd upset him. They hadn't yet talked about a future together, and she had to blurt out a statement about marriage. "Good job, Alana," she thought.

He placed her on her love seat. He walked away without a word, climbing her stairs. He returned with an armful of pillows and blankets. Covering her with a blanket, he placed a pillow behind her back, then fluffed another and put it under her left leg to elevate it. She felt some of the pressure on her knee alleviate, and she sighed. "Hannibal…"

"Let me get you settled, Alana. Then we will talk."

He walked out her front door and returned with her hospital bags. Next he brought in her folded up wheelchair. Then he closed the door and locked it behind him.

He settled himself into her easy chair, then placed one hand on his chin, staring at her. He looked like he was contemplating an interesting patient in his office, or perhaps even an intriguing specimen in the lab. She waited for him to speak, but he continued to look at her. Alana knew this was a tactic to get her to speak first, and she also knew she would give in. So she did.

"I heard you tell me you loved me, in the hospital." She paused, swallowing a mouth full of spit that accumulated from her anxiety. "You thought that I was sleeping. Did you just say it because Will was there?"

Hannibal smiled, perhaps proud of her astute observation. "Partially, yes. However, I have lately found myself…feeling love for you."

Alana felt like her heart might burst, it felt so full. She stayed still for moments, feeling the steady but quickening beat of her heart. He loved her.

"Why did you become so tense when I mentioned marriage? If you love me? Do you…see a future with me?" She spit out the words as she felt tears forming in her eyes. She blamed the stress of the break and the hospital stay for her delicate emotions. She knew he'd understand if she cried, but she didn't want to. She tried to will the tears away, and for the moment, was successful.

"You want a fantasy that doesn't exist in my world, Ms. Bloom. White picket fences and two to three squalling children do not suit me. Do they really suit you?"

One tear dropped down her cheek, and she brushed it away with the back of her hand and whispered, "I don't know."

Hannibal scooted his chair closer to her and took her hands in his. "I could never be the one you want. Don't ask that of me, Alana."

"I'm still carrying a little hope that maybe things could get different. Is that so wrong?"

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I love you, Alana. There may be a future for us, it just might not look like you'd hoped. Is that not enough, my darling?"

She smiled and answered, "It's enough." And for now, it was. More than enough. He was wrong; he was exactly what she wanted.

She wondered what a future with Hannibal Lecter would look like in his mind. Years of good food, fine opera, hard work, and travel. She assumed he'd at least marry her. But she might want a child. She loved the mental image she had of a little girl with Hannibal wrapped around her finger. Would he ever want a child with her?

But she felt like she'd pushed him enough for one day, and she was tired.

"Take me to bed, Hannibal."

He picked her up again, and carried her up her stairs. He placed her in her bed and spooned her. Then he made love to her, being careful moving around her cast. When she climaxed, she cried out, "Oh, I love you!" And she felt so free, free to finally say it, and know he felt it too. She didn't even need to hear him say it; she could feel it in every movement, every look he gave her, every little thing he did for her. Lately, his very being cried out his love for her.

But she was still glad when she heard him whisper against her sex-sweaty neck, "I love you too, numylėtinė."

This has some lyrics from the song "Carry You" by Jimmy Eat World. I just borrowed them, no infringement intended.