Being taken care of
Hannibal Lecter felt the hot afternoon sun baking on the back of his neck, the shade cast by his fedora missing his neck completely. He was walking rapidly back to his Bentley having abandoned his shopping when the aura started, heralding a monster migraine on the horizon. He counted himself fortunate that he didn't suffer from these migraines often, but they were debilitating when they did hit.
When he was younger, he had tried to treat these with various medications with less than stellar results. Because they happened so infrequently, he had never been much motivated in finding an effective treatment. He reflected that he hasn't had a single one of these in the four years since he and Clarice moved to Buenos Aires and he had no doubt that it was her presence that had kept them at bay for so long.
The cool interior of the car was welcoming and he wasted no time getting into traffic to head home. His usual practice when he had one of these was to find a quiet place that he would not be disturbed and then retreat deep unto his memory palace to meditate and ride out the pain. He was extremely good at compartmentalizing pain and could dissociate himself completely from it. He did however require somewhere peaceful and quiet to do so.
He was grateful that the afternoon traffic was light as by the time he parked his car in front of their home, the aura had progressed a lot but he was still able to see. His auras were always the same; It would look like a kaleidoscope of white and yellow light shards that moved and revolved slowly. It usually started in the centre of his visual field and then spread out until it encompasses his whole field and he would be blind for all intense and purposes. The pain would have been debilitating but for his ability to compartmentalize. The migraine would continue to build for hours until he would vomit, after which it would start to abate. Clinically he could explain the mechanism very well. How stimulation of the parasympathetic system through the vagus nerve during vomiting can lead to the release of endogenous opioids and endorphins that can give pain relief.
That however was far from his mind as he carefully parked and made his way to their bedroom, mostly on his mental map as his vision was now almost completely obscured. He heard Clarice to his left in the sitting room and just lifted a hand in greeting, hoping she'll excuse his lack to proper courtesy. He didn't really have the capacity to explain to her exactly what was going on right now. He'll just have to make it up to her later. Once in the bedroom, he gratefully sagged into the bed, toeing off his shoes. Normally he would carefully take off his bespoke Italina leather shoes and neatly stack them in the closet, but again that wasn't really within his capacity at the moment. He was just starting the process of disappearing into his memory palace when he heard Clarice enter the bedroom.
"Hannibal? Are you OK?"
He felt relief in that he only heard concern in her voice, not irritation at his lack of manners. He had never just walked straight pass her when either of them returns home, always making sure to kiss her forehead or cheek in greeting. It was important to him that she should never feel taken for granted.
She usually called him H and only called him Hannibal if something was wrong or if he had pissed her off - which was admittedly fun to do from time to time.
"Migraine" was all he said and he heard her walking around the room. The room was suddenly plunged into blessed darkness as she pulled the curtains to. He was immensely grateful to her. She bent over him and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before leaving the room.
Taking this as permission to retreat from her, he started to re-enter his memory palace. These were some of the corridors he had not needed to visit in years, there being no need to compartmentalize pain in his life with Clarice. He hadn't progressed very far when he heard her re-enter and felt a small stab of irritation. It would really be better if she could just leave him to get on with it for the next four or five hours. A soft cold cloth was put on his forehead over his eyes, taking him by surprise.
"Keep your eyes closed H"
The relief it brought was glorious. He thought he recognized the smell - it was one of the cooling cloths Clarice kept in the fridge for after her runs.
She spoke in little above a whisper
"You'll be more comfortable without your belt". She proceeded to gently and carefully remove his belt and then dug out the wallet he still had in his pocket that he wasn't even aware of.
He was on the point of thanking her and asking her to leave when she started to massage his head. Digging her fingers in slow circles from the top of his head to the temporal areas above his ears and back again. Using the palm of her hands to exert some pressure there before letting go again. Kneading, stroking and compressing his entire scalp. By now she was sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. He moved his arm to encircle her waist in silent gratitude. The aura hadn't abated, but the pain was a fraction of its usual level.
She moved her hands down to his neck. Digging her fingers into his sternocleidomastoid muscle and working the knots loose. She unbuttoned his shirt to better reach the scalene and trapezius muscles and started working on those as well. Periodically she would interrupt her progression down his neck and shoulders to return her attention to his head.
Next, she worked her way down his arms one by one, massaging his hands. She replaced the one back around her waist when she was finished with it and again returned to his head. Hannibal had no idea how much time had elapsed. More than an hour he thought.
"How are you feeling now?" She asked softly
"Better thank you my love"
She dropped a small kiss to the top of his head before getting up and leaving the room. Hannibal thought he might actually be able to fall asleep now, which he had found was always a great aid in breaking the migraine completely, though it was usually almost impossible to achieve at its height.
He was just beginning to drift off when Clarice came back and replaced the cloth over his eyes, which had warmed to his body temperature long ago, with a new cold one. He smiled slightly.
He wasn't accustomed to being cared for when he had one of these episodes. She quietly laid down on her side beside him and tucked her free arm around his bicep. He moved his hand to rest on her hip and gave a soft squeeze in acknowledgement and thanks.
Much later he woke to find she had tucked herself into his side with her head resting in his chest and his arm holding her close. She wasn't in the habit of sleeping in the afternoons and removing the now warm and dry cloth from his eyes, he gazed down at her. The pain in his head had retreated to a dull ache and the aura was completely gone. He had never before weathered one of these episodes without retreating deep into his memory palace. His head felt like it was stuffed full of wool. Gently wiping some of the hair off her forehead he kissed sweetly. She stirred and opened her eyes.
"Hey. How are you feeling?"
"Much better thank to you"
"I didn't know if it would help or if you'd prefer to go to your memory palace. I figured you'd tell me if it was the latter and you wanted me to leave"
She knew him so well, his little Starling.
"I usually do. But I found a very competent nurse to help me which made it unnecessary in this instance"
"Good" She said and raising herself slightly un her elbows placed a soft kiss on his exposed chest "do you want something to eat?"
Knowing Clarice didn't like cooking or making food made her offer all the more precious
"No, my love. But you should at least get up or you'll have trouble sleeping tonight".
It was in fact already early evening. She cocked her head at him.
"The lest go listen to some music in the drawing room before coming back here later"
"Sounds like a plan"
She laid her head back down on his chest and he tightened his arms around her. He was in no hurry to get up and move. He was too comfortable with her in his arms like this. What she'd done for him this afternoon left him almost speechless. No-one had ever cared form him like she had just done. As he rubbed her back in slow soothing patterns, he tried to think of something he could do for her. It could never be enough to his way of thinking but it had to be something. A small smile started to play on the corners of his mouth as he landed on the perfect idea.