My favorite headcanon is that as soon as Hannibal’s temperature rises above a 98.8, he acts like a victorian boy with scarlet fever.
“will… will i make it to the spring time?”
“hannibal. it is a minor cold.”
Man who’s always giving uncanny valley vibes low temperature included and is extra sensitive to feeling cold due to trauma versus man who grew up where it’s always wretchedly muggy and was desensitized by brain melter 2000 disease flu season self-prognosis death battle
Will: pulls the thermometer out of Hannibal's mouth You have a mild fever.
Hannibal: That doesn't seem to concern you...
Will: i sAiD iT wAs miLd
Hannibal: ...
Will: But you're right, we must check for any brain damage just to be sure. Waive your arms above your head and gimme a smile. Good boy. Now draw me a clock.
@devereauxsdisease I summon thee!
Please write this. You’d make it very funny I know you would
OK I'm going to take the reverse angle on here. ONLY because we know Will likes to nurture wounded birds. So Hannibal "The Sniffles" Lecter is actually sort of in Will's wheelhouse.
In my mind, Will makes a show of how ridiculous it all is. He huffs and rolls his eyes. BUT. His ass is still climbing into bed with Hannibal to cuddle, still nosing sweetly at the back of Hannibal's ear when he shivers. Still defrosting whatever the cannibal equivalent of chicken noodle soup is and spooning it carefully into Hannibal's mouth. He talks a good game, but he's absolutely there to baby Dr. Sniffles at the first sign of a cough.
This is not Will's reckoning.
Will's reckoning comes four days later when he catches the bug from Hannibal and completely refuses to be coddled. Hannibal is forced to chase him down with cool compresses and soup only to be shrugged off or watch in horror as Will chucks some black pepper in the broth, takes half a spoonful, and goes back to work.
Hannibal has a physical reaction to every phlegmy cough, not because he's disgusted, but because WILL IS NOT LETTING HIM HELP.
"Honestly, if you'd just take the decongestant-"
"I don't need it. It'll pass."
"It would pass more quickly, if-"
"Since when do you care if it passes quickly?"
"I beg your pardon! I-"
"Don't you fluff up at me like a mad rooster. You let my brain boil for weeks." Will tilts his head. "Something I've been assured you were monitoring closely. So, Hannibal, am I more sick or less sick than when I was having hallucinations and seizures?"
"...it's only a decongestant."
"The last time I let you put something down my throat I coughed up an ear. I'll stick with the phlegm."
"The last time I put something down your throat you came six times."
"Hmmmm...guess that time wasn't as memorable to me as THE EAR. Maybe I should draw a clock?" Will does a quick sketch of a hand holding up the middle finger. "What time is it, Dr. Lecter?"
Hannibal sighs, gathering all his dignity. "Time for me to let this go."
"Bingo." Will coughs, glaring until Hannibal leaves. The second Hannibal is out of sight, Will grabs the decongestant and takes two.
"Thank you, Will."
"FUCK OFF, HANNIBAL!"
