Between the ambulance and the hospital was a blurred space for Hannibal. He remembered pulsing lines and shadows. Voices touched his ears but never made much sense. It was terrifying, truly, to be out of control. Dr. Lecter woke, sniffed the air and gave a tired huff. Every bone, every muscle ached and burned. He needn’t ask himself what happened. He remembered everything in stark quality.
A sound, from the other side of the room. “I hope you didn’t spend all night crying at my bed side.”
Shakily an exhale escapes her. She couldn’t bear to see him like this. Especially after all of their reminiscing history, the casual flirtation and their friendship that was genuine at heart. It felt almost unreal to see him in such a state. It was hard enough seeing Will in the hospital, and seeing how Alana has known Hannibal much longer than she has Will, her emotions began to take hold, thrashing her firmly built walls to the point of breaking.
The brunette knew that she couldn’t leave him, and wasn’t planning to anytime soon. The echo of his frail voice made her look up from her hunched over state, allowing her fingertips to blot away the evidence of her emotions.
Not wanting to touch the subject of her crying, Alana stood and began to walk across the room, barefoot, grabbing a cup of water and dipping a straw inside of it. Uneasily, she walked to his side and placed it on his bedside table.
“How do you feel?” A reddened tongue lashes out, wetting her lips, ever so slightly tasting the remainder of salt from her un-ravelment earlier.