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Hannibal settled into his seat by the window, nudging his travel bag under the seat in front of him. He had been informed that it was a sold-out flight so even though he was one of the first to get seated, he had already mentally prepared himself to be surrounded. Flying was the best option – only two hours back to Baltimore, leaving an entire afternoon for his use. But flying always opened Hannibal up to the possibility of unfortunate seatmates. Crying babies, chatty grandmothers, middle-aged men who had somehow made it halfway through their pathetic existence without an introduction to soap.
Because the plane was so small there was no 'first class' area, just fifteen rows with two chairs on each side of the aisle. All Hannibal had been able to haggle was a seat only two rows back from the plane's entrance so that he would not be trapped at the back of the metal canister upon arrival while the rest of the plane's sad populace shuffled aimlessly towards the exit. And Hannibal had brought earphones to use with his phone to drown out any aggravating seatmate with some of his favourite classical and opera pieces.
Knowing he would be asked to remove the earphones prior to takeoff, Hannibal left them in his pocket for the time being. Instead he alternated between gazing out the tiny window and watching the line of plane passengers meandering by. It didn't take too long to fill up such a small plane, though the seat beside Hannibal and a few others scattered around nearby remained empty.
By now names would be called over the PA system in the airport, seeking those who were running late. Hannibal swallowed the bitter tang from the rudeness of being tardy. Knowing he would need to sit next to one of the perpetrators would be a test to his restraint, or perhaps a handy offering of meat he could coax home to his kitchen. Hannibal wasn't opposed to meals falling in his lap.
At least, that's what he thought until a lithe, mess of a man did in fact fall into his lap and knock the air from Hannibal when his elbow accidentally jabbed into Hannibal's solar plexus. Hannibal recovered quickly and watched curiously as a burly man reached forward and yanked the smaller man out of Hannibal's lap and back into the seat beside him. "Sorry," the standing man grunted to Hannibal as he focused on getting the other's seatbelt done up. "Will, relax. We're on the plane back to Baltimore."
Hannibal studied the face of the one proclaimed to be Will. His skin shone with sweat, dark curls sticking to his forehead and eyes unfocused. Or so they appeared until Will glanced up at Hannibal and their gazes accidentally locked. It was an instinctive reaction when Will's whole body stiffened, the pupils of his eyes dilating and then contracting with fear as he fumbled back to grab at the sleeve of the other man's coat before he disappeared to his own seat two rows back. "Jack, don't leave me with him!"
When Hannibal breathed in he could smell the fever clinging to Will's mind, but his delirium was not responsible for his awareness of Hannibal's nature. Hannibal had spent his whole life learning how to play human, provide the proper cues to lull everyone into an acceptance that blinded them from the truth of a predator walking among the herd. There was nothing Hannibal had done that would alert Will to the falsities of his mask, and yet Hannibal could tell Will would not need a confession to be certain.
Will was a sick and injured creature aware of stumbling in the path of a wolf when he was unable to run away. Although Will clawed at the seatbelt frantically, his sickness made him too uncoordinated to escape. The only thing that would save him was the eyes of onlookers and the level of Hannibal's hunger. Hannibal was not on a hunt, but the attention Will's blatant fear was attracting from those around them was dangerous. Hannibal would need to discredit him and his statements during the two hour plane ride back to Baltimore.
His plan formed in the seconds it took the man named Jack to huff, throw his coat down onto his seat, and stomp back. Hannibal forced a hand to Will's forehead, prompting a whine of unadulterated fear from the back of Will's throat as his terror rooted him in place in his seat. As Jack came back into view Hannibal brushed a few of Will's curls away gently, donning the image of a concerned individual.
"Doctor Hannibal Lecter," he introduced himself benignly. "I'm afraid it is likely that your friend has an advanced case of encephalitis. I would recommend he be seen as soon as possible."
"Jack Crawford, FBI," the man said, though he was more focused on Will's frantic breathing. "You're a medical doctor?"
"For many years, though I now practice psychiatry," Hannibal explained. "This man is showing all the signs; confusion, agitation, hallucinations paired with his fever. Has he been like this long?" The guilt on Jack's face when he shrugged implied that Will had been suffering for much longer than many should allow. Hannibal's irritation at Will for his keen instincts faded slightly to an unexpected urge to protect, despite Will slapping Hannibal's hand away from his forehead. "Allow me to watch over him for the flight and then please get him seen at a hospital as soon as we land."
"I couldn't possibly ask—"
"You do not have to ask," Hannibal assured him. A flight attendant came up the aisle then and asked if there was a problem and, if there wasn't, for Jack to please return to his seat for takeoff. Jack hesitated for a moment longer and then nodded his thanks to Hannibal before walking back to his seat. Further protest had barely formed on Will's tongue when Hannibal leaned closer to whisper in his ear, "Hush."
Will shivered and sank down in his chair. Hannibal knew Will's compliance was calculated, rather than willing. Will was sick and unable to fend off an attack, and knew that appeasing the predator circling him with a show of obedience would keep him alive longer. Hannibal moved his hand back to hold Will's jaw. "Don't kill me," Will pleaded weakly.
"I have no interest in killing you," Hannibal said truthfully. Not when Will was proving himself to be so fascinating. "I want you to look at me and tell me why you are scared of me."
With light pressure Hannibal tilted Will's face to the side so that they were looking at one another again. At once Hannibal could see his own soul reflected in Will's eyes and was given his answer. Pure empathy. Very intriguing indeed. An empath with the FBI, likely a profiler by trade, though currently out of commission due to his encephalitis. A hunger was building in the pit of Hannibal's belly, but it was not for a death that would dim Will's eyes.
"I—"
"Hush," Hannibal said again. He didn't need Will to explain or to lie, and would prefer he didn't do either in the close proximity of others. However, Hannibal would need to figure out some way of getting Will into his office so that he could probe deeper into Will's mind when there would be no one else to listen in, to question, or to hinder. "You are safe with me."
Will wore an expression of mixed dread and relief. Will believed Hannibal's words, but also knew the dangers of gaining the interest of a predator who could easily tear out the throat of a misbehaving pet. There wasn't much Will could do though. In that moment the plane's engines roared and they were in the air, and would remain so for the next two hours. By then Hannibal would have a plan to keep Will under his wing long after the trip.
Will was stubborn. Hannibal struggled with true empathy at times but he was skilled enough at reading people to know it as truth. But Will was weakened by his encephalitis and Hannibal could physically see the moment when Will gave in to his current situation. His jaw slackened and his eyes drooped closed, his breathing finally turning less stuttered. Hannibal could still feel the hurried patter of Will's pulse against his palm but that could just as easily be from the sickness as Hannibal's presence.
Hannibal removed his hand from Will's burning skin to allow Will a chance to attempt settling in. Ten minutes later and Will had done the opposite, fingers clutching at his jeans and head lolling back and forth occasionally as though trying to knock free unwanted thoughts. Hannibal was understanding of Will's discomfort but the fidgeting was annoying and he pulled his earphones free of his pocket, holding one up in offering. "Would you care to listen to some music with me?"
Still in a state of appeasement, Will accepted the earbud and hooked it onto his ear. Hannibal had long since memorized all of the classical pieces on his phone but it was a new experience to hear only half of each song, the other half traveling exclusively through the earphone in Will's ear. Hannibal liked the idea of each of them possessing half of the song inside them, and together creating a whole.
Another ten minutes later and Will slumped over in his seat, head accidentally coming to rest on Hannibal's shoulder as he fell into a fitful but deep sleep. The acidic heat of Will's fever was overpowering but the more Hannibal focused, the more he could tease out a crisp freshness that had to be Will's natural scent. It provided mental images of forests, streams and fresh air immediately following rainfall. Hannibal couldn't remember the last time he had smelt something so addicting, and took the liberty of keeping his nose tucked against Will's hair for the rest of the flight.
Hannibal forced himself to remain conscious despite the temptation to be lulled so that he could lift his head, pluck the earphone from Will's ear, and smooth out his suit when the plane began to descend. Even after the plane touched down and passengers began to disembark, Will continued to sleep on and Hannibal willingly remained in place.
Jack eventually approached once the rest of the plane had emptied. "How did you get him to quiet down?" Jack wondered as he looked Will over.
"There was little I did," Hannibal said. "Will's encephalitis has exhausted him." He could imagine that Jack's method of waking Will would be rather unpleasant so Hannibal gently shook Will's shoulder and murmured, "Come back, Will."
Will stirred and crawled back to consciousness slowly, groaning in displeasure at being awake. Hannibal could imagine the discomfort Will would be feeling due to his sickness. Impatient at Will's slow response, Jack shook Will harder and Will jolted awake violently. His eyes skirted from Jack to Hannibal, and though there was still obvious wariness in Will's expression, his response was muted by his lingering haze of sleep.
It took Will an extra few seconds to realize he was gripping Hannibal's forearm and let go to unclip his seatbelt. Hannibal silently unclipped his own. "I would strongly advise a hospital visit," Hannibal reminded Jack seriously as Will stood on unsteady feet, Hannibal ready to catch him if he fell. "Before there is irreversible damage to his mind."
"Don't talk about me as if I'm not here," Will spat and brushed past them both to storm out of the plane on his own. The effect was voided by the obvious necessity for Will to drag a hand along the wall as he walked to keep himself upright.
"Please take my card," Hannibal said and slipped one of his business cards into Jack's hand before he could rush after Will. "I feel therapy may assist Will with the thoughts filling his head."
Jack was distracted as he began to trail after Will before he got too far ahead, but he glanced back at Hannibal and nodded. "I agree, doctor. Thank you for your assistance today."
"The pleasure was mine," Hannibal smiled genuinely and allowed Jack to race out of the plane. Hannibal took his bag and left the plane in his own time, Will and Jack long since gone from view down the busy corridors. Hannibal was not concerned. By his calculation he would receive a call to have an appointment set up in a few weeks once Will had passed the acute phase of his illness. If Hannibal was incredibly fortunate, and today he felt very fortunate indeed, Jack would call him to see Will before he had even been released from the hospital.
Hannibal would need to prepare. While Hannibal normally took great satisfaction in serving the results of his hunting to guests, for now his focus was on Will's recovery. His current encephalitis led to a mind with weakened defences but Hannibal was more curious to explore Will's mind in top form. Silkie chicken in a broth seemed like an apt choice for his peace offering, Hannibal decided with a pleased, private smile.