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Will had been feeling sick for hours but fought the nausea and the fever to make it through to the last class on a Friday afternoon. He dismissed his class and was about to pack up and drive home when Jack entered the lecture theatre holding a manila folder.
“Will, I’ve caught you just in the nick of time it seems.”
Will sighed and adjusted his glasses. He felt so hot, with a raging thirst building up inside.
“What is it Jack?”
“He’s struck again. I need you to look at these.”
“Jack, can this wait?”
“Did you really just ask that? Lives are at stake here Will.”
Will took off his glasses and rubbed his hand over his face. He held his hand out to Jack and took the file.
“Great. I’ve got to go give debrief one of the leading Deputy’s. Let me know what you see and if you find anything. I’ll be back in an hour.”
Will sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk and opened the file. He reached for his bag and shook out two aspirin from the bottle within, swallowing them dry.
The pictures were gruesome. Bodies opened, butterflied, and spread out, wrists and ankles tied to trees as if trying to dry the skins out.
Another wave of nausea rose in Will and he swallowed. The dark theatre and the sick burning inside of him made him feel lost and vulnerable.
He looked at his watch and the numbers on the face swam before him. It was almost 4pm. Will focused his eyes, the concentration not helping the pounding in his head. He took his phone out of his pocket to let Hannibal know he was going to be late home this evening. He answered after two rings.
“Hi. It’s me.”
“Good afternoon Will. How are you?”
Will sighed, didn’t answer.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Fine. Just…feeling a bit under the weather. How’re you?”
“I’ve seen my last patient for the day. Why don’t you head home? I’ll stop off at the market on the way, pick something up for dinner.”
The thought of food made Will’s stomach heave. Bile rose up his throat and he was unable to answer.
“Will? What’s going on?”
“I…uh, I need to do some work before I come home. It could take a while.”
“Is it Jack?”
“Yes.”
“Can’t it wait?”
“Lives are at stake, Hannibal.”
“And what about your health? What about that Will?”
Will hated being sick. The only person that could look after him was Hannibal, and before then, it had been his father when he was a boy.
The thought of him made Will feel even sadder, and without realizing it, a small sob escaped from his throat. Hannibal grew even more concerned.
“Will? Will what’s happening?”
A small whine.
“D…daddy.”
Tears began to fall. Will removed his glasses and scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand. He hated feeling this way.
“Oh my darling. Oh Will. Stay where you are, I’ll come get you.”
“N...no. ‘s fine. ‘m okay.”
Hannibal could tell from Will’s voice that he was tired and regressing. It had happened a few times, and Hannibal’s tender care was the only remedy.
“Darling, remember what we talked about last time you were sick? What did we say?”
Will sniffled.
“Daddy…daddy knows best.”
“Good boy. That’s right. Now, can you stay where you are?”
Will nodded.
“Will darling, daddy can’t see you so I don’t know if you’re nodding or not. Can you stay put for an hour?”
“Yes daddy.”
“I will get there as fast as I can. But you call me if you need to, okay?”
“’kay.”
“I love you Will.”
“Love you too daddy.”
…
Will hung up. He put his head down on his desk. He brought his hand up to his mouth, nibbling on the tip of his thumb. He longed to suck it for comfort, but couldn’t risk Jack or anyone else coming back into the theatre.
Will’s mind swung between the two states. He knew about the pictures in front of him, knew he had a job to do and needed to help find this latest monster. More lives could be lost, bodies debased and families torn apart.
But he felt miserable. Tired and sweaty and so sick. He just wanted to be in bed, in Hannibal’s arms, being fed soup and crackers and watching cartoons until he fell asleep and magically felt better when he woke up.
Will sighed, sitting up and catching sight of the photographs again. This time, he didn’t fight the nausea and vomited into the waste paper bin under his desk.
…
Hannibal drove his Bentley at breakneck speed through the streets of Maryland all the way to Quantico. He usually didn’t like to break the speed limit, but this was an extraordinary situation that he justified as urgent.
He had packed a small bag of necessary items, to make Will feel better and get him home safe. He hoisted it over his shoulder as he stepped out of his car and to the reception area of the building.
He told the receptionist he was here to see Jack Crawford, and the friendly young man behind the desk paged Jack right away.
“Dr Lecter. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Hello Jack. I’ve come to pick up Will.”
“Oh. Well, why didn’t you call him?”
“He is not well, Jack. I must ask you to allow him to recuperate in my care this weekend.”
Jack shrugged, walking Hannibal towards the lecture theatre.
“I just saw him, he looked fine to me. Well, as fine as Will can look, doing what he does.”
“He is sick, Jack. He mentioned you had him consulting on a case. I’m afraid Will must rest. I will take him home.”
“And like I said to Will, there are lives at stake here, Dr Lecter. I know you both understand this.”
“We do. But my primary concern is Will’s health and wellbeing. He is no good to you broken and sick.”
They reached the lecture theatre and opened the door.
“I didn’t think he was that sick.”
The chair behind the desk was empty. The theatre silent and dark, one single light coming from above the desk.
“Will?”
A small whimper came from behind the desk. Hannibal and Jack walked around and found Will sitting with his back against the desk, legs drawn up, chewing on the tip of his thumb. A waste paper bin was next to him, in it, what looked like Will’s lunch from earlier in the day.
Hannibal crouched down next to him and smoothed his hand over Will’s forehead.
“Hello Will.”
Will let out a tiny whine.
“Daddy.”
It was whispered, and Jack couldn’t be sure if he heard it right. He knew the two had a very unconventional relationship. But he didn’t care what it was, as long as they both functioned and served their purpose to the academy and to Jack.
Hannibal left his hand on Will’s forehead as he turned to look at Jack.
“He’s burning up. And you couldn’t see he was sick, Jack?”
“I’m sorry, Dr Lecter. But he seemed fine to me.”
When Jack looked closer, he could see that Will’s face was pale, and he was sweaty. He sighed.
“Should I call an ambulance?”
“No. But I’ll take him with me. And he won’t be contactable until he is better.”
“But Hannibal…”
“No but’s, Jack. You have an entire academy of brilliant minds at your fingertips. Let’s Will’s rest for now, until he has the strength to even conceive of the evil for which you are searching.”
Jack threw his hands up.
“Fine. Just…well, let me know how you get on this weekend. And if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Jack.”
Jack left, and Hannibal resumed his place crouching next to Will.
“Oh Will, my darling. You’ve been sick.”
Will whined and put his arms around Hannibal’s neck.
“Don’t feel good, daddy.”
“I know you don’t. But we’ll make you feel better soon. Can you stand up for me?”
Will nodded and with Hannibal’s help, was able to stand. The room spun, and he leaned heavily against the desk. Hannibal went and locked the door to the theatre from the inside, retrieving an item from his bag. Will continued to chew on his thumb.
“Let’s get a diaper on you, Will. We have a bit of a drive back home and don’t want you sitting in wet pants if you have an accident.”
Will whined again, and Hannibal gently removed his hand from his mouth.
“Mr Bear is waiting for you in the car. And your favourite pacifier. The quicker we get you dressed, the quicker we will be on our way. Okay?”
Will nodded and Hannibal pulled a diaper out of the bag, along with a changing mat he spread on top of the desk.
Will lay down and Hannibal quickly pulled his trousers and underpants down, spreading some baby powder over Will’s crotch before securely taping on a diaper. He pulled Will’s underpants and trousers back up over the diaper and helped Will sit up.
“There’s a good boy. Now come on, let’s go home.”
Hannibal picked up Will’s bag, along with his own, and slipped the file into it. He led Will out to the car park, holding on to his elbow, neither caring if anyone saw them.
…
When they got to Hannibal’s car, true to his word, Mr Bear was waiting on the front seat. Will gave a little smile as Hannibal opened the door and buckled him in.
He also handed Will a pacifier and a sippy cup full of water.
“Drink some water please Will. Then you can have a nap on the drive home.”
“’kay daddy.”
The windows of Hannibal’s Bentley were darkly tinted, so no one would have seen the FBI’s most gifted profiler drinking from a sippy cup, clutching on to a well-worn teddy bear.
…
True to Hannibal’s word, Wil had fallen asleep on the way home, the pacifier lying still between his lips and Mr Bear held close to his chest. Hannibal glanced over every so often as he made his way back to his terrace that Friday night.
Hannibal shook his shoulder gently when they arrived.
“Wake up, baby boy. We’re home.”
Will’s eyes fluttered open. They were bloodshot. Damp curls clung to his forehead.
Hannibal helped him inside and led him straight to the bathroom when he began to run a hot bath. He began to undress him.
“My poor, poor boy. When did you start feeling sick?”
Will shrugged, still sucking on the pacifier. Will had had an accident in the diaper and blushed when Hannibal took it off him.
“Don’t be embarrassed my darling. You’re sick, it’s okay.”
Hannibal helped him step into the bath, placing Mr Bear on the basin and removing the pacifier. Will whined again when both were taken away from him.
“It’s just for now Will. You can have them back once you’ve finished your bath.”
Hannibal ran a washcloth with some lavender bath gel over Will’s body. He leant into the touch, the fragrance and the heat causing his eyes to droop and making his body feel lazy.
Usually bath time when Will had regressed was fun, full of bubbles and toys, little Will sometimes mischievously splashing Hannibal.
But this was different, the boy subdued and quiet, the sickly sweet scent of his fever battling with the herby gel Hannibal had used.
Hannibal drained the tub and wrapped Will in a towel, helping him to stand up. The room spun and the nausea rose again. Will stumbled over to the toilet, vomiting up bile as Hannibal rubbed his back. Will retched and heaved a few times, breathing heavily.
“Oh my darling. There, there.”
When he was done, Hannibal handed him a glass of water, and Will rinsed his mouth out. He clung to Hannibal, nuzzling his damp curls into Hannibal’s neck.
“Come on, let’s go get you into bed.”
Hannibal led him by the hand to their bedroom, lying him down on the bed and grabbing another diaper and some clothes from the chest of drawers.
“Want Mr Bear.”
“I’ll get you dressed first, darling, Then I’ll get you your pacifier and Mr Bear from the bathroom.”
Will sniffled a few times and then brought his thumb up to his mouth, sucking on it rhythmically. Hannibal didn’t usually let Will suck his thumb, but made the allowance on rare occasions.
As he had before, Hannibal quickly diapered Will then dressed him in a footed sleeper. He pulled back the covers and Will lay down, pleased that his head had stopped spinning.
Hannibal went back to the bathroom and returned, giving Will his precious Mr Bear and pacifier.
“Now darling, daddy is going to fix you a bottle and some medicine. Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”
Will nodded and Hannibal placed a waste paper bin by the bed.
“For if you feel like you need to be sick. Don’t worry about anything my dear boy.”
Will smiled sleepily and Hannibal went downstairs to prepare a few things.
…
Hannibal grabbed a baby bottle from the cupboard and filled it with some coconut water mixed with a small amount of salt and sugar. He also grabbed some liquid paracetamol and a baby medicine dispenser before returning upstairs.
Will was dozing when Hannibal entered the room, and he stopped at the bathroom to get the thermometer before he woke him.
“Wake up, baby boy. Daddy needs to take your temperature.”
Will whined and opened his eyes. When he heard ‘temperature’, he thought it may have been one of the old-fashioned rectal thermometers, but it was a handheld electronic one that Hannibal placed in his ear. Will squirmed and Hannibal soothed him.
The thermometer beeped and Hannibal looked at the reading.
“Hmmm…101. Let’s get some medicine into you.”
Will didn’t like taking medicine. He whined again and began sucking more rapidly on the pacifier.
“Shhhh…don’t’ be frightened Will. The medicine will make you feel better in no time.”
Hannibal filled the dispenser with a dose of the paracetamol. The dispenser was like a plastic measuring cup, fixed to a silicone nipple similar to one found on a baby bottle. The liquid was a lurid pink and smelled artificially sweet.
Hannibal screwed the lid on and removed the pacifier from Will’s mouth. He moved to sit next to Will on the bed, not surprised when Will shifted closer so that he was practically lying across Hannibal’s lap.
Hannibal held the teat of the medicine dispenser to Will’s lips. He took a taste of the medicine and immediately recoiled, whining.
“I know, I know it doesn’t taste that nice darling. But you need to drink your medicine if you want to feel better.”
Will shook his head and buried his face into Hannibal’s chest.
“No, don’t want it daddy.”
“Now Will, I want you to feel better as much as you do. Please open up, drink up your medicine.”
“Noooo!”
Will began to cry. Hannibal sighed.
“Please darling, it will be over soon. Then we can lie in bed and watch cartoons for the rest of the night. Doesn’t that sound good?”
Will stilled a little and sniffled.
“Can we watch Adventure Time?”
“Of course. But you need to be well to enjoy it. Open up baby boy.”
Will sighed and Hannibal once again placed the nipple in his mouth. This time Will drank the medicine down, making a face as he finished.
“Good boy. Aren’t you a good boy? Now some of daddy’s special formula to help make you feel even better.”
Will was much more accepting of the baby bottle full of coconut water, the taste that was slightly salty and slightly sweet.
As Will drained the bottle, his eyes began to close and by the time he had finished, he was almost asleep.
Hannibal carefully extricated himself out from beneath Will, replacing the bottle nipple with his pacifier and placing Mr Bear in his arms again.
Will sighed in his sleep. Hannibal placed a hand to Will’s forehead, his skin no longer clammy but still warm. He went downstairs to put the bottle and other items in the dishwasher.
He fixed himself a quick dinner, washed it down with a glass of wine and then returned to his bedroom with his laptop to do some work and keep an eye on his precious boy.
…
Will woke to bright sunlight and clean, cool sheets. His head didn’t pound. He didn’t feel hot or sweaty. He looked at Hannibal who was fast asleep next to him. He was still in his clothes from yesterday.
Will sucked on the pacifier in his mouth. Even though he wasn’t little anymore, it still felt nice and comforting. The diaper between his legs was damp, but not uncomfortably so.
Hannibal shifted in his sleep and opened his eyes to find Will looking at him.
“Good morning baby boy. Are you feeling better?”
Will nodded and moved closer to Hannibal so his head was resting on his shoulder. Hannibal put his arms around Will and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“You don’t feel quite so hot. That’s good.”
Will removed the pacifier from his mouth.
“Thank you, Hannibal.”
Hannibal looked at Will, slightly surprised at him using his name.
“You definitely are feeling better then?”
“I am. I still feel a little tired. But I feel better than I did yesterday. Thank you for looking after me.”
“You’re welcome, my darling boy. Any time.”