When Hannibal stepped through the doorway he discovered shattered glass, broken plates, and picture frames spread across the floor. Then the freezing temperature hit him. He could see his breath in front of him.

He didn't mean for a month to go by. He wanted to come back sooner but he couldn't handle the chance of (y/n) rejecting him.

"(Y/n)?" He called out while searching the house. The no reply brought horrible flashbacks from the last time he couldn't find (y/n) in their house.

Hannibal passed the kitchen and found more wreckage of glassware and plates. He continued then saw empty pill bottles spilling out of the bathroom. He quicken his step.

He found Mischa laying on a pile of blankets and his wife seizing in a pool of her own drool.

He ran to her unconscious body. Hannibal dragged her through the hall and into the bathtub. Her head bobbed back and forth while her limbs and chest contorted. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. He grabbed the shower knob and turned it to cold. The cold water drenched (y/n) and Hannibal. He sat (y/n) upright and let her lean against his chest. Her thrashing body made it difficult to force his fingers down her throat. Hannibal reached the back of her throat but she still didn't throw up. He tried to hunch her over and press his fingers against her uvula again. the cold water splashing against the couple disguised Hannibal's tears.

She was shaking, and shaking, until she wasn't.

She went limp in his arms. Hannibal refused to accept that this was the end. He shoved his fingers down farther while yelling and slamming his fist against the bathtub wall. He pushed his face against her back and sobbed. His face twisted into agony. He lost the one thing that was keeping him here.

He threw his head up when he felt her body lurch forward.

(y/n) vomited on herself. She bent over and continued to gag. Her body stopped seizing but couldn't stop shivering.

Hannibal stared at the back of her head. His eyes were wide, he couldn't believe it. (y/n) had the same shock on her face when she turned around and met Hannibal's eyes. Before she could speak her vision faded and her body collapsed in Hannibal's arms. He carried her to the couch. He checked her pulse and then checked it again.

His stiffening cold shirt reminded Hannibal of the freezing temperature inside the house.

He undressed (y/n) to dress her in dryer clothes. Then dressed himself.

After an hour of fixing the heater he returned by (y/n)'s side. He stroked her cheek while he held Mischa in his lab.

He sat on the floor his back against the couch, next to (y/n). He waited for Mischa to sleep before he let himself cry. His chest rose and fell as he let out quite sobs. He saw the state the house was in. He saw how frail Mischa's and (y/n)'s bodies were. All the fire wood was gone along with the food. How long were they suffering like this? Hannibal hated himself.

He checked if (y/n) was breathing every few minutes. Did she try to kill herself because of him?

He cleaned the house while he waited for (y/n) to wake up. He placed each broken glass shard in the garbage. While doing so he saw five red dots on the floor, it was blood. He returned to (y/n) and lifted her shirt and checked her skin for any wounds. He discovered a long gash on her palm. The surrounding area was covered green and red while yellow dried pus sealed the cut. As he was inspecting it, (y/n)'s hand twitched. Hannibal watched her eyes slowly open. Her body was still shaking from the trauma of an overdose.

She slowly turned her head towards Hannibal. Not quiet looking at him, but more through him, as if he wasn't there at all. Hannibal expected a hug or a slap in the face, anything but silence.

(y/n) brought her hands into view and studied them. She whispered "This isn't real".

She thought she must be dead. Why would Hannibal come back now of all times? He was gone so long. Why come back? The pills must have killed her. A tear fell down her face as she watched the wall.

Hannibal was so confused. "(y/n), it's me."

She stayed silent. He tried to hold her hands to call her attention but she had no reaction. Hannibal thought maybe the effects of the drugs haven't wore off yet?

"It's me, Hannibal." He tried again.

This time she looked at him. "Hannibal isn't here." She said with a plain expression.

He knew that survivors of a overdose wake up in a haze but never this kind of dissociation.

"(y/n), I'm right here."

"No. He's not here." A tear fell off her cheek and soaked into the blanket.

Hannibal hoped that time with bring her back to reality. He held her hand in his lap and cleaned it. She didn't flinch when Hannibal applied alcohol to her wound. I must be dead, was the only thing going through her head. This wasn't real, just a cruel trick. Maybe she was still on that couch laying in her own sweat and drool while convulsing. Was this the last thing she sees before she dies?

When Hannibal returned from the store he found (y/n) exactly where he left her. She was staring at nothing. He had to help her take antibiotics and then help her eat. He tried talking to her but she didn't respond.

The house started to get warm but Hannibal lit the fire place to heat the home faster. He brought (y/n) close to the fire then started to make dinner.

(y/n) stared at the flames, they stared back. If she really was dead then she wouldn't feel pain. She extended her arm towards the fire. The heat flirted with her skin and projected an amber glow.

Hannibal stepped into the room to announce dinner was ready. He saw flames about to eat (y/n)'s hand. He pushed her hand away. She looked at him confused.

"What are you doing?" Hannibal dove inside (y/n)'s eyes and searched for the woman he recognized, not the hollow shell sitting before him.

"It's ok. It's not real." She brought her hand back to the fire. Hannibal grabbed her hands and held them.

"(y/n), this is real. You are real."

"No I'm dead." She couldn't met his eyes.

~~~

Hey everyone! I published this chapter a little bit early because I'm visiting relatives on Sunday and doubt I'll get good wifi there. New chapter will be up in a week.