Hannibal Lecter awoke in an usually cold bed. Heaving his still sluggish body over cool crisp satin sheets, he remarked at the soft dent marking the absence of his lover. Will must not have come to bed again. Or if he did, tossed and turned for about half an hour before abandoning the idea completely. Hannibal sighed and lifted himself up out of bed and padded out of the room in search of Will.

Hannibal and Will had been enjoying a secluded lifestyle, the FBI manhunt had run out of steam regarding them both, dumbfounded at at a loss for leads, and professional ties had been cut between them and the bureau for well over teo years now. The tranquility had been a welcome breath of fresh air. Will and Hannibal had been holed up in their lavish home free from the scrutiny of the outside world, able to enjoy each other's company and each other. This idyllic bliss seemed threatened when Will had meekly announced to Hannibal, blank faced with shock, that he was pregnant. Testosterone injections proven not to be enough to prevent such a surprising turn of events.

Hannibal made his way down the herringbone parquet of the corridor, slick and cool in the morning breeze, and towards the baby's room. Will was often found hunched over the side of the bassinet, eyes dark and glazed over due to exhaustion. You would think that as the baby was no longer a newborn (and hadn't been for a good fourteen months), that she would stop keeping Will up to all hours of the night. Alas.

As expected, the slumped body of the young man was propped up against the crib, a deep red indent forming on his forehead where his skin was pressing into the bars. He must've been exhausted to fall asleep in such an uncomfortable position. "Will?" Hannibal called out.

Will jolted awake, his chestnut curls bouncing off his brow in surprise. "Oh, hello…"

"Hello yourself. I was wondering why I slept so comfortably- I realise now that it's because I missed your cold feet digging into my legs last night."

Will still managed to chuckle, delirious and exhausted as he was, and removed his glasses to wipe them on his creased shirt which he had been sporting for days on end.

"Sorry.. I did try tonight but… after about an hour I could hear her stirring and couldn't help myself"

Hannibal sighed wistfully - disapproving of Will's constant coddling of their daughter preventing all three of them from having a peaceful night's sleep, yet also in tender admiration of Will's dogged devotion. Loyalty to a fault. Much like the stray dogs he lived amongst back in Wolf Trap.

"I found your pill bottle still encased in its wrapper, Will. You were prescribed those three days ago yet you haven't taken any. Are you collecting prescriptions for sport or are you not taking your medication."

Will appeared to crumble at the statement. Too fragile and too exhausted to lie or bicker, he gave Hannibal a look that merely said, 'I know. I'm sorry'. "I just don't think it's a good idea right now, I don't have the time to get through the side effects and the fogginess, I need to be alert right now"

"And alert is precisely what you are not. You are not even looking at me as we talk, you stare through me as if you couldn't see clearly at all. Will, what you need is to sleep. I called Yolanda yesterday and asked her to watch the baby for the day so you can get some sleep"

Will opened his mouth in protest but was instantly silenced by his opponent.

"Will. I am ordering that you take 2 of your tablets, lie down, and sleep solidly for at least 8 hours."

Will looked up, defeated. He was reminded of his place in the food chain. He accepted defeat.

"Ok… I'll see you tonight when you're home?"

"Of course. I'll be back at six thirty and not a second later. Sleep, my love"

"Okay"

Hannibal turned on his heel and returned to their room to get dressed for work. Will turned blearly eyed to the window, attacked by the blinding glare of the morning sun. Maybe some rest would be good…

Hannibal had cancelled his last few appointments of the day when he noticed a text from Yolanda, the young woman they hired to nanny on occasions.

"Hello Mr Lecter, Mr Graham has dismissed me at 5pm today as I am no longer required. I will lower the billing amount accordingly, good evening"

Fuck's sake. He had imposed an 8 hour rest as a minimum but he had assumed once Will crashed out he would stay slumbered for a good while longer. He made his way home and arrived in a quiet house.

"Will?"

No response. A pot of boiling water had begun to foam at the rim and spill out onto the cast iron aga. He must still be awake surely?

Creaking up the stairs, Hannibal could see a soft light emitting from the bathroom and soft splashing from the tub. He pawed open the door to see…

The baby alone in the tub and - where was Wi-

Two twisted legs emerged from the opening door, Will laid beyond them, wrapped haphazardly around the bath. A small patch of blood decorated the rim of the tub. Hannibal's paternal instincts kicked in and lunged to grab his daughter out of the bath, thankful she had not toppled over or drowned in the time Will had been passed out. Once dry and warm, Hannibal placed her into her crib and returned to the bathroom, closing the door behind them. He wondered if she would remember this, and if she would be traumatised.

He leant down and cradled Will's head in the crook of his arm. Gently slapping his stubbled cheek, Will began to stir, glazed eyed and foggy.

"Wh- Where is she--" he began to stammer, slurred but immediately anxious.

"In bed. Where you should've been. Will, what's happened to your head?" Hannibal tutted, half scolding and half concerned. He lifted back Will's curls and traced the ragged edges of a clotted cut on his forehead.

"I told you. The pills- they made me .. made me lose focus- i could hardly see, my vision just- patched out and then I couldn't hold myself up anymore."

"I'm not denying that your medication would have unpleasant side effects. But it is important you take them or your postpartum depression will strip you bare, it has been over a year Will and you sleep less and less every night. You survive off of bread and cigarettes. Soon you will be running on empty."

Will stopped protesting and fell back into Hannibal's muscular arms, conceding defeat.

He lifted Will back onto his shaking legs and supported him back to the bedroom, laying him into bed and putting his (now rather bent) glasses beside him on the nightstand. Will melted into the covers instantly.

The next morning Hannibal awoke to Will's sleeping face beside him. He had always remarked at how long the man's eyelashes were, grazing his soft peachy skin. He was pleased that Will had slept through the night. Also his body felt quite cold to sleep next to, and beads of cool sweat had absorbed into the pillow as he slept. Poor man, these pills had a very harsh introductory period.

Once Yolanda arrived to tend to the baby while Will recuperated, Hannibal left the home at seven thirty, anxious to desert both his helpless daughter and husband.

The fates of both ruminated in his mind all throughout the day, like a rolling boil of worry. His therapeutic advice rolled off the tongue as if on autopilot while he gritted his teeth in resentment at the slow passing of minutes. Hannibal's day was agonizingly long as he had to honour the appointments he had cancelled yesterday. It wasn't until 9:30pm that the lights in his office were extinguished and the solid mahogany door locked.

Hannibal parked his car outside his and Will's house. He exited, and hurried along the pavement without much regard for the rest of tbe world. Evidently..

"Hey! Mind where you're going!" Smack. Hannibal was so absorbed in his mind that he had walked straight into a pedestrian.

"My apologies sir"

The man looked up at Hannibal. Something registered on his face… shock? Guilt?

"I- I er um no problem- sorry!"

The man scurried away, perturbed by Hannibal's face. Did he know him? Hannibal was not in the frame of mind to care.

"Ah Mr Lecter you're home! Someone would like to say hello!" Yolanda sauntered down the stairs in her white tennis shoes, cradling the baby in her arms. She placed the bundle into Dr Lecter's arms as he dropped his briefcase.

"Thank you Yolanda, again you have been indispensable"

"Not at all Dr Lecter, I am just happy to help out. I hope Mr Graham feels better soon, I haven't seen him all day"

"All day?"

For a man like Will who was so used to sleeping in minute batches of hours a night, it was surprising to hear that he had not made a sound since last night. Come to think of it, Will had fallen asleep at around 5:30pm and had not stirred in … 30 hours… No antidepressant should change his sleep habits so drastically and so quickly. Something was wrong.

"Yolanda, I apologise profusely but could you stay an hour or two longer?"

"Will?"

Will laid in the same position he had been left in this morning. However the sheets had been permeated with cold sweat and they now clung around his body.

Hannibal dropped his medical satchel onto the bed and tried to sit Will up, yet his body was limp and weak. He slapped his cheek, harder than last night. He slapped until his cheek was stinging and scarlet. Will's eyelids fluttered slightly, a bead a sweat dropping from his lashes. Hannibal retrieved a penlight from his bag and placed his palm on Will's forehead, using his thumb to open his eye and shone the light at his pupil. The cerulean ring of iris seemed much larger than normal as Will's pupils were small even before Hannibal shone the light.

"Will? Can you hear me"

"Ngh… Han- Hannirbl.."

"Drink this"

Hannibal held up a small glass of water to Will's lips as he cradled the back of his head. The younger man weakly sipped but it wasn't long before the water came back up, mixed with the bile and acid from his stomach, that made him recoil as it burned his throat.

Hannibal gazed over his partner's body. He fully appreciated his bad condition. His skin was sallow and pale when it was once pink and flushed. His ribs appeared sunken and caved in, and his stomach sagged, slightly bloated from the lack of any meaningful nourishment. He noted the hollowness of his cheeks and the dark creases beneath his eyes. It's true, Will had been suffering since their daughter's birth. He regretted all the times he had bitten his tongue and allowed Will to have his way. Hannibal should've been more forceful in his protection. However this new condition was far more malevolent than the previous prolonged malaise. Hannibal did not know exactly what had ravaged the body of this once tenacious and strong young man but he knew he had to do something at once."

"No- n-n Hannibal I can't.. can't get up. I'm gonna f-faint"

"Don't worry, I'm here to hold you, Will. Just lean your weight into me and I will support you" He wrapped Will's arm around his shoulders and grabbed his thin waist, lifting them both up from the bed.

"Hangh… hanig.. hann…"

"Yes Will?" The two men made it out of the bedroom door, both their muscles trembling in concentration and strenuous effort to sustain eachother.

"Whe.. where are we… goinghh, I don't wanna.. go t- th- ...hhospital"

"I'm taking you to my old clinic, the equipment is second to none and they owe me a favour"

It was much easier moving Will's writhing body into the clinic with the help of four nurses and a gurney. By now Will had slipped back out of consciousness and had no control of his body, the nurses had to wield his limp limbs and manipulate his body to insert IV's, take blood and attach electrodes. The weak and uneven rising his chest meant he had to be intubated, which Hannibal left the nurses to perform, feeling a pang of guilt at his own manipulation of Will's body in the past.

Sweat glistened on the curved bridge of Will's nose, and one solitary bead rolling down his philtrum and onto his chapped and dry lip. Small remnants of dried blood from his fainting episode the night before had ended up among his nest of wiry stubble. Hannibal sighed.

"I fear that the medication Will was given was not an antidepressant…" Hannibal gazed down into his hands in which he held the bottle containing Will's pills. The amount missing matched up exactly with the usage guidelines - he couldn't have made a mistake. He took a closer look.

The pills were small white pucks, in a circular shape, with a trench marking the tops of each. Unassuming, plain and unremarkable.

"Whitestone Pharmacy… 675 Wilson Avenue"

Why was Hannibal even here. He should be watching over Will and making sure that he's alright. Activated charcoal and a stomach pump can be a real bitch. But Hannibal knew evil schemes, and that's why he smelt one like a shark smells blood in the water.

The building, like the pills, was unassuming - a big grey monolith in a strip mall, fenced in by dumpsters and beige subarus. As it was late, the fluorescent yellow strip lights were beaming through the windows, casting the lonely shadows of vacant aisles and one worker darting about in a white coat, flitting in the light like a moth.

Hannibal entered the pharmacy and walked up to the counter. The worker had his back turned to him, as he worked manically, sorting through boxes of pills.

"Hello, I think there has been a mix up with my husband's medication"

The worker turned around to face him. His eyes widened and quivered instantly in recognition, like a deer in the headlights. This man was small, far shorter than Hannibal or even Will, in his late 40's with a deep receding hairline of coarse black hair. He peered out at Hannibal from beneath thick varifocals and his pronounced adam's apple bobbed in anxiety. He was hiding something.

"Hello.. sir. Ah- I'm sorry abouy- I mean-- what seems to be the problem?"

This man looked familiar, and his voice even more so. It struck Hannibal like a lead pipe. The man outside of his house last night. He had bumped into him. The stench of mothballs and stale tobacco ash had lingered on his coat for hours later. This man had been waiting outside his house, but scurried away once he saw Hannibal's face.

Hannibal looked at him long and hard. The intelligent thing to do would be to feign ignorance and lull this man into a false sense of security. However the fires of rage began to lick up in his stomach, red hot pinpricks began swarming his skin.

"You see, my husband's pills have been mixed up with these peculiar things" he proffered a tablet from the little orange canister.

"I'm not entirely sure what they are. A sedative at first glance. Made him weak as a kitten. But then I thought.. a pharmacy couldn't be selling sedatives as strong as these surely. Unless they had been snuck in."

The pharmacist quivered beneath Hannibal's black hot stare, scared enough to reveal his nervousness but arrogant enough to uphold his bluff.

"See, what I think this is… Is GHB. The date rape drug. But why would they be passed off in a prescription. Why not sold into the black market? Or to dealers? Maybe money is not the objective here. Maybe they wanted to drug someone in the cleanest way possible"

"Look here .. i er uh.. I --"

"How could it ever be traced back? All they would need to do, is look at the customer's address in the computer system. Wait for the drug to kick in. And enter the house when no one else is home. What do you think?"

The pharmacist's face becomes stone cold.

"Hello I'm here to pick up a prescription"

"Absolutely sir.. could I have your name?" He licked his lips.

"Will Graham"

"Yes I see your prescription here, let me just go and get that for you" he saunters into the back, the pill bottle in hand. "Could you confirm your address for me quickly?"

"288 Margrove Close"

"Excellent.. thank you- very much"

In the end, the pharmacist came quietly out the back with Hannibal, so frightened of causing a scene in the store he was lured into the back of Hannibals car with a fist full of pills shoved down his throat. He came to an hour later, tied to a chair in a warehouse basement, and he passed out from blood loss soon after. His lungs turned out to be far too blackened and calcified to enjoy so they were discarded into compost for mulch. In the end he decided on harvesting the liver and heart, perhaps not the finest quality meat but the sense of justice was satisfactory.

A tupperware of menudo stew, with sweet red pepper and a warming burn of chilli and cubed liver and heart, topped with a spritz of lime juice, lay tucked under Hannibal's arm as he returned the next day to Will's side.

"Hello Will"

"Hello Hannibal"

"I brought you soup"

"Thank god I'm starving", Will whispered scratchily, his throat still bearing the scars of acid and the trauma of intubation. As raspy as his voice sounded, some of the man's ruddy glow had returned to his cheeks and lips.

Hannibal opened his tupperware and blew a spoonful of the stew lightly, the steam billowing outwards. He brought the spoon to Will's mouth, and delicately placing his pinkie finger underneath his fine whittled jaw to catch any wayward drops. His finger grazed against Will's stubble which had grown out of control, wiry and coarse, yet still slick and soft. Will accepted the stew into his mouth and Hannibal relished the softening of his features at the warm embrace of the soup against his throat. Hannibal was pleased, they had bested another foe and lived to eat another day.

Will rested his head against Hannibal's shoulder, nuzzling the fine tweed fabric coating it.

"Let's go home"