Chapter Text
Alana was just finishing up the last of her paperwork when there came a knock on her office door.
“Yes?” she said, not taking her eyes from the forms in front of her, busy checking and double-checking. Being director meant she was responsible for everything that happened under the roof of the BSHCI, and with that came making sure every form was accurate.
The door creaked open, and when no one entered and no one spoke, she finally looked up. Before her was a shivering, sweat-drenched Will Graham, his body wrapped in one of the hospital blankets, his face red with fever.
“Will?” she asked, concerned, rising to walk towards him. “How did you…”
She halted the moment his scent reached her.
“You’re in heat.”
Will’s eyes were unfocused and he stared at the floor, unable to raise them in the submissive state he was in.
“Hannibal.” he said, his voice pleading, needy.
Cold chills ran down Alana’s spine in waves. Oh no. No. Will wasn’t claimed, was he? Had he been?
Desperately, she tried to remember Will’s last heat. Omegan heats tended to follow an annual cycle; and while Will had never been exactly healthy, he’d still more or less always had them in…
“Winter.” she said, and it indeed was the dead of January.
“Why isn’t Molly helping you through it?” she asked, her face turning pale as she walked towards him, putting a protective arm around his shoulders, trying to catch a glimpse of his neck as she did so to see if he was claimed. The blanket was wrapped too high around his neck.
Since she was bonded to Margot, her own Alphan instincts were only to protect him. He easily obeyed her, stepping into the room, where she shut the door, thankful that most of the staff had gone home for the evening. She was grateful for once that mostly betas tended to be attracted to the healthcare professions; with their calming and nurturing instincts.
“Come, sit.” she said, guiding him to one of her office armchairs. He obeyed, walking on shaky legs, sitting unsteadily on the edge of the seat. A soft whine escaped him when he did so, his eyes traveling to Alana’s feet.
“Alpha. Hannibal.” he repeated.
“Let me get you a glass of water, Will.” she said, if only as an excuse to step away from him for a moment. Though it didn’t drive her into a mad frenzy, the scent of him was still overpowering, and she needed to think.
She stood at the water cooler a bit longer than she needed to, staring at the bubbles as they rose in the plastic tank.
It was almost exactly a year since Hannibal had been arrested; since the day she had begged him to save Will Graham’s life, and he had done exactly that.
Will hadn’t been in heat when they were at Muskrat Farm that night—had he been? She’d been so enamored with Margot at the time she might not have noticed if he was going into pre-heat. When Hannibal had taken him home, to his house, alone…
She snapped her head to Will’s shivering form and walked over to him as calmly as she could, handing him the water.
He gave her a quick smile and downed it in one go, half of it dribbling down the side of his face.
“Thank you, Alpha.” he said softly. “Can I see Hannibal now, please, Alpha?”
She whirled on her heel and started to pace in front of her desk, arms crossed, brow furrowed. This was not good. This was so, soooo not good. If Hannibal had claimed Will and she refused Will’s request for visitation, she could be thrown into prison herself for omega abuse. But if Will wasn’t bonded to Hannibal, and she let him in and Hannibal claimed him then, she could have her entire career as a psychiatrist questioned for allowing some poor omega into the clutches of the likes of Hannibal Lecter.
She tried again to get a peek at Will’s neck, but he was curled in on himself now, hunched, pulling the blanket tightly around himself.
“Will…” she said, trying to gently prod the blanket away, when her door flew open and the annoying voice of Dr. Chilton grated upon her ears.
“Does any of the day staff communicate with the night staff, or are we running two separate hospitals?” he ranted, storming in on his soapbox, and as usual, not knocking.
“Frederick, not now.” she snapped. He turned to look at her, and when he did he breathed in deep, his eyes dilating as hunger took over his face.
“Why hello, pretty little thing.” he said. He stepped towards Will and reached a hand out to touch his face, just a hair quicker than Alana. His fingers brushed Will’s cheek and he whimpered, pulling away with a pathetic sound.
“No, Frederick, you are a professional.” Alana said firmly, putting her entire body between him and Will. “Into your office. Now.”
She put the full authority of her voice behind the command. Chilton’s eyes rose to meet hers in a challenge, and a low growl escaped his lips.
“Now.” she said, pushing against his chest. Thankfully, he wasn’t far gone enough to attempt to fight her; he allowed her to push him into the hall. She slammed the door to her office closed and then slammed the door to Chilton’s office once they were inside.
He shook his head and took in a few deep breaths of the clear air.
“Oh my God, that was Will Graham.” he said.
“Yes, and he’s asking for Hannibal.” Alana said, continuing her frantic pace in front of Chilton’s desk now. He leaned back to rest on it, rubbing a hand over his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“You just saved me from an enormous embarrassment.” he said.
“I just saved you from more than that!” she cried, angry. “But shortly it won’t matter. Both our career, and our lives frankly, are on the line here. I think Will is claimed by Hannibal.”
Chilton gave her a stern, harsh look.
“You think?” he spat. “Alana, that is a fact we need to be one hundred percent certain of, one way or the other, in order to take proper action.”
“Don’t you think I know that!” she snapped, continuing her stomping as she paced. “But if he isn’t claimed, why in hell would he be asking to see Hannibal? Why isn’t he at home, with his wife?”
“Probably because those two have been starry-eyed for each other since the moment they met.” Chilton spat. “Everybody else might deny it, but I see what’s right in front of me.”
Alana threw her hands up in the air in frustration.
“So either Will is claimed by Hannibal, and we let him in to mate, which will be a disaster; or he isn’t, and we let him in and gets claimed!” she cried.
“There is a third option.” Chilton said, looking down at his pants to pick at lint there, not daring to look Alana in the eye. “We could deny him, send him back to Molly, and hope that he doesn’t remember coming here when the heat clears.”
Alana glared at him.
“That would be cruel.”
Chilton shrugged.
“Only if they’re bonded. Seems to me you need to find out.”
Alana stopped in her pacing and glared at him.
“I will be right back.” she said, slamming the door of Chilton’s office behind her as she left.
She found Will in her office now, no longer wrapped by the blanket, and no longer clothed, either. He was sprawled out on the floor, ass in the air, cock in hand, mewling.
“Alpha.” he cried.
Alana’s face melted in pity. He looked so desperate. She knelt beside him and stroked her fingers through his hair. The part of his neck that was exposed was markless.
“Turn your head for me, sweetheart.” she said gently, and Will obeyed, in such a lost state now that he’d most likely allow any Alpha to take him, even her. When he turned his head away from her, she saw the other side of his neck clearly, and on it a very distinct, very bright-red claim mark; a scar normally hidden from the world that flushed with blood to be shown during an omega’s heat.
“Oh.” she said, her voice gentle even as her heart broke. “Oh.”
He probably hadn’t even known.
“Will, I’m so sorry.” she said, fighting back a tear as she stroked her fingers comfortingly through his hair. This would not be the life he would have wanted for himself. She only hoped that he wouldn’t hate her afterwards; when he found himself awakening from a heat in the cell of Hannibal Lecter.
“Come on.” she said, gently putting her arms under his and lifting him to a kneeling position. She leaned forward and looked into his lust-blinded eyes, cupping his warm face in her palms.
“Get up and put your clothes on, and I will take you to Hannibal.”
She saw the instant relief on his face.
“My Alpha.” he said, rising to his feet and stumbling towards his pants. One look at them and she saw they were soaked; and when he stood the slick ran down the inside of his thighs, dripping onto the carpet.
“On second thought, just wrap yourself in the blanket.” she said, but he seemed to not have heard her, sliding the soaked pants up to his waist and throwing on his shirt in haste. His fingers trembled as he re-fastened the buttons, crooked, with the holes miss-aligned.
“Come on.” she said, once he had the basics on. There would be no need for socks or shoes. She put her arm tenderly around his shoulder and began leading him down the hall towards the staircase that led to the basement, where Hannibal Lecter was kept.