Sick Mal

"So I assume you're calling to cancel our appointment today?" Hannibal spoke into the phone.

"Yeah, I just don't feel well enough to go anywhere. Sorry," Will replied.

Hannibal could easily hear the congestion in the man's voice, but just in case there were any doubts, Will then let out a sneeze so loud Hannibal had to hold the phone away from his ear.

"It's quite alright. Would you like me to come over? I could make you some soup, or in the very least I could keep you company," Hannibal offered.

"Oh, well that'd be nice but I don't want to get you sick too. Besides, don't you have other patients still today?" Will rasped.

Hannibal gazed down at his schedule and saw the two other names listed after Will's appointment. "No, not today," he lied. "And I have no fear of catching your illness. I also have medical schooling, so I could check up on you to make sure that it's nothing serious."

"In that case, I guess I wouldn't mind having a friend around. Of course, only if you have nothing better to do," Will agreed.

Hannibal smiled. "I could think of nothing better than to be with you. I'll be there as soon as I can."

oOo

Hannibal knocked on the front door and waited politely for Will to open it.

"Thanks for coming, Dr. Lecter," Will greeted, stepping aside to let the psychiatrist in.

Once Hannibal was inside, the scent of fevered sweetness struck him. He noticed that his patient was sweating through his t-shirt and shorts, but he made no comment. The man must be experiencing flashes of heat and chills every few moments.

"Are you feeling any better?" Hannibal asked, following Will into the living room.

"No, not really," Will replied, sinking into the couch and wrapping a blanket around himself. "Like I said, are you sure you want to be here? I'm pretty sure I've got the flu or something, so it's contagious."

Hannibal nodded reassuringly at Will. "I'm perfectly fine. Now, I made some soup," he mentioned, beckoning to the pot he'd brought with him. "Would you like some?"

Will laughed. "That sounds great, but I'm afraid I might throw it back up and I wouldn't want to offend your cooking."

Hannibal smiled. "I will take no offence, I promise. I will get some for you anyway, and then you can decide whether or not to eat it."

Hannibal carried the pot into the kitchen and poured some into a bowl. He rewarmed it, then brought it back out to Will.

"Thank you," Will smiled, taking the bowl and breathing in the heat. "It smells so good that it might be worth the risk of it coming back up."

"I'm glad you like it," Hannibal replied. "Now is there anything else you need to get done today that you have not felt well enough to do?"

Will shrugged. "My dogs just need to be fed and let out, but you don't have to worry about it. I can get them later."

"Nonsense," Hannibal stated. He ran a hand through Will's hair, smiling down at the man. "I will be right back."

Hannibal whistled and immediately seven dogs ran up and followed him into the other room. Hannibal crinkled his nose at the scent of them and tried to no avail to dodge all the fur. He lifted the bag of food and poured it into each dish, watching as they devoured every morsel within a few moments.

Hannibal then led them to the back door and sent them out. He allowed them five minutes before calling them all back in.

When he returned to the living room, he found Will in the middle of a violent coughing fit. He crouched down next to the couch and put his hand on Will's forehead. The man was still running a high fever, and he was looking particularly pale. He let his hand linger there a little longer than necessary before going on to feel his throat in search for any signs of inflammation.

"Sorry about that," Will apologized once the coughing stopped.

"No worries," Hannibal replied before moving to feel Will's pulse. "What are all your symptoms?"

Will sniffled. "Uh, congestion, sore throat, fever, stuff like that. I'm fine, though."

Hannibal nodded. "Yes, it does just appear to be influenza, but you still need rest. Is there any symptom in particular that's bothering you?"

Will shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle. The only things really bugging me are the constant chills. No matter how many blankets I pile up, I can't stop shivering."

Hannibal turned and sat back against the armrest of the couch. He put his legs up and pulled Will into his lap, allowing the smaller man to settle against his chest. He wrapped his arms around his patient. "Better?"

Will leaned back into the warmth and relaxed. "Much."

Of course, Hannibal knew that physical warmth wouldn't stop the chills since they were due to the internal illness, but it satisfied him just knowing that Will wasn't pulling away, and the man even seemed to enjoy it.

Hannibal didn't know how much time had passed, but it didn't really matter. If he were to ever get bored, he could visit his mind palace, but for reasons unknown to him, he was content to just sitting there with Will in his arms.

Before long, Hannibal could tell Will was beginning to doze off. Hannibal slid out from behind him, trying unsuccessfully not to wake him.

"Where are you going?" Will mumbled, starting to sit up.

"Shh," Hannibal hushed. He leaned over and tucked one arm under Will's knees and the other behind his back, lifting him up bridal-style. With all his practice in transporting bodies, Hannibal was able to carry the smaller man with ease. He brought him into the bedroom and set him down on the bed, wrapping the covers around him.

"Are you gonna stay?" Will asked.

Hannibal paused. "Would you like me to?"

Will scooted over to one end of his bed. "I mean, there's room here if you want to. It's kinda late for you to drive all the way back to Baltimore."

Hannibal glanced at the digital clock on the side table. "It's 8:30."

Will averted his gaze. "That doesn't answer my question."

Hannibal smiled, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. "I'd love to stay."

Will grinned and patted the bed beside him. "Just a warning though, I do sweat a little."

Hannibal took off his suit jacket and slacks before settling down beside Will. He leaned across the end table and turned off the lamp. "Goodnight, Will."

oOo

Hannibal knew Will would sweat, but the man neglected to mention how he often reclaimed the opposite side of the bed. Hannibal didn't know when the last time was where Will would be in the same bed as anyone else, but whenever it was, it was too long ago. The man was simply unable to stay on his own side.

At first, Hannibal didn't mind. He even found it slightly amusing to have Will flop over and land on top of him. But by 3:40 A.M., he was a little more than irritated. He was just calming himself down, when a particularly forceful roll sent Hannibal off the side of the bed.

Hannibal landed on the floor with a thud, thinking about how wrong he was to assume Will would have a deeper, more peaceful slumber when he was had a fever and was filled with medicine.

Hannibal completely gave up when seven dogs rushed over and snuggled into every possible crevice of his body.

oOo

Hannibal woke up when he sneezed hard enough to scare the dogs off of him. He sat up abruptly, feeling a headache crash inside his skull. He felt mucus trickle down the back of his throat, causing him to sneeze again.

Will peered over the edge of the bed. "Dr. Lecter? Why are you on the floor?"

Hannibal sighed. "I decided to keep the dogs company," He remarked sarcastically as a smaller dog wandered over and plopped onto his lap.

Will smiled, apparently not picking up on the sarcasm. "Well thanks for staying with me last night, I enjoyed the company."

"Any time," Hannibal replied with a short cough. "So how are you feeling?"

Will shrugged. "Alright I guess, better than yesterday. What about you? You look awful."

Hannibal glared at him. "Thanks."

Will laughed and crawled off the bed, dropping down next to the psychiatrist. His hand wavered a little, but he reached up to feel the doctor's forehead. "Are you sure you're alright? You're burning up. I knew I'd get you sick, I never should've asked you to come," Will groaned, looking away regretfully.

Hannibal raised his hand and cupped Will's jaw, turning the man to face him. "I would've come whether you'd asked me to or not. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I have no regrets for any of my decisions, nor should you."

Will averted his gaze. "But I infected you with whatever virus I have."

Hannibal smiled reassuringly. "I suppose that gives me an excuse to stay a little longer."