Hannibal's house, Thursday

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal	Hannibal had gotten no sleep at all the previous night. At first because of the nagging feeling that someone was watching him - he had very good instincts, and had learned to trust them. And later, because said watcher had finally become too prominent to ignore. And if some damn ghost thought he was giving up his body, he was in for a nasty surprise.
Bob	Bob had over a thousand years of stubbornness on his side, not to mention actual knowledge of magic and possessions. He also had over a thousand years of learned patience, though, and he wasn't above biding his time. And, it turned out, he had no idea how to work half the things in Hannibal's house. (Hannibal? Who named a child "Hannibal" these days?)
Hannibal	It was a respected family name, thank you. And if "Bob" didn't like it, he could damn well leave! Hannibal didn't mind sharing a bit - he did that regularly with Jono, after all - but this was his life, damn it!
Bob	Really? Now, sharing (as a foothold) wasn't a bad thought. Maybe just a day or two, to let a poor, condemned soul experience a bit of life?
Hannibal	Hannibal might be young in comparison to his visitor, but he had hardly been born yesterday. But sharing (as a stopgap to figure out how to get rid of him) was certainly an option.

So yes, eventually they'd come to a bit of an agreement. Or a stalemate, depending how you looked at it. Currently, Hannibal was cooking his lunch and listening to Lucia di Lammermoor and doing his level best to politely ignore his passenger. Bob was enjoying the smells and the music.

Comments

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal committed the number to memory, eyed Bob a moment longer, and then nodded and held out his hand.

Bob reached out, grasped it, and melted into/over/through him.

Hannibal shuddered. Then stretched, straightened up, and rubbed his face. "If we could have no more of this sort of thing tonight, I for one am ready to sleep."

[furnaceface]

//I could do that for about a month,// Jono admitted, eyeing Hanni...Bob? warily for a moment before shrugging his shoulder a little. //I ought to at least clean up first, though. Do you, er, mind if I use your shower?//

As appealing as the prospect of stumbling home with one arm covered in blood, barely able to stand on his own two feet was... Maybe, just this one time, he had better not. Betelgeuse might be mostly harmless now, but a few minutes ago, he had very much not been, and a he'd happened to have a mouth full of four-inch nails to go along with all of that nasty language and mould.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Of course not." Hannibal reached to help him up. "Would you like company?"

He sighed. "Bob."

Eleven hundred years!

"The impulse to offer was mine, the lack of tact was his," Hannibal explained to Jono.

[furnaceface]

//Figured,// Jono replied, a touch wryly, as he accepted Hannibal's help. //Your accents are different.//

A beat.

//And, yes, that tact thing, too.// Hannibal had plenty of it! Bob... not so much. //Not terribly certain what he thinks he's going to get at this point. I can barely stand up without my legs buckling, and I'm not all that inclined to get up close and personal with ghosts who are wearing my best friends as meatsuits anyway.//

[nuclear_snide]

Bob could be incredibly tactful! When he wanted to. Which, granted, wasn't often.

"Isn't that a pleasant image. I prefer 'gracious host'. And after eleven hundred years, I'm inclined to take whatever I can get. Men aren't even really my thing, but if the two of you -"

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal sighed. "Never mind him. Let's get you into that shower and clean, and then I can take a look at your shoulder. Are you injured anywhere else?"

[furnaceface]

//Besides my dignity, I don't think so,// Jono replied, shaking his head and quite happy to ignore Bob for the time being. //He actually wanted me more or less in one piece, at least until it looked as though he wasn't going to get to wear me around.//

There was a moment of silence as Jono tried not to lean too heavily against Hannibal before he added, //And... thank you both for that, by the way.//

He was not going to thank you with sexual favours, Bob.

[sharp_as_knives]

But they were a time-honoured method of thanks! With centuries of history!

Sort of like Bob!

"You're welcome. From both of us." Hannibal let him lean as heavily as he liked, and Bob added just a bit of levitation to make it easier as they climbed the stairs.

[furnaceface]

The levitation, though Jono wasn't about to admit it, was actually kind of nice. He appreciated it, if silently, and finally gave in and leaned a bit more heavily on Hannibal about halfway up the stairs.

//Getting so bloody tired of that,// he muttered, not exactly willing to open any sort of emotional floodgate with Bob around, but needing to get that off his chest, at least. //One of these days, maybe somebody'll see an opportunity to get into my head, and they won't.//

He didn't believe that at all.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal was quiet for a moment, then offered, "Bob says he may be able to help with that, at least from a magical angle." He sent back a quick question as he steered Jono into the master bath.

Hannibal, Hannibal's house, and anyone he cared about were going to be very well protected before Bob left. Jono might owe the ghost, but Bob owed him, and Hannibal was definitely planning on collecting.

[furnaceface]

//That so?// Jono glanced Hannibal's way for a moment, and then looked down toward his feet as they entered the bathroom and walked by the mirror.

He loathed mirrors, these days.

//That won't involve more iron spikes, I hope.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal tightened his grip in acknowledgement and comfort. "More likely an amulet of some sort. Or - no." He shrugged as he leaned Jono against the counter. "Somehow I doubt you'd appreciate him carving it into your skin." He set about untying Jono's boots. Really, he needed valet pay these days.

[furnaceface]

//I keep picking up amulets and charms and things to carry around on me, I'll have to start carrying around a backpack,// Jono muttered. //I'd opt for the scarring, if I thought it'd last.//

He had a funny way of blowing up and piecing himself back together again.

//... You know, I'm going to take off my own bloody boots, one of these days.//

At least he was wearing that nice pair. The really expensive nice pair?

[sharp_as_knives]

The really expensive, nice, muddy pair. Well, at least it was dried enough Hannibal's carpet wasn't suffering.

"One of them, yes," Hannibal answered, amused. He pulled them off and set them aside. "When you're capable of bending over without falling over. Can you manage your trousers?"

[furnaceface]

//I think I can handle those,// Jono agreed, if only because there was no way Bob was getting that close to his junk, thanks. He reached to unbuckle his belt, one-handed. //Gonna need help with what's left of my shirt, though.//

Served him right for starting to wear proper clothing over his bandages like a normal person.

//Been bleeding into it. S'gonna cling.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Bob had no interest in your junk, Jono! He was definitely only European. He was just an opportunist.

"Let's get you in the shower first, then. We can loosen it under the water." Hannibal turned the taps on and waited a moment for the water to warm. "Would you appreciate the company?" he asked politely. "Me, for help and comfort only," he clarified, thank you, Bob.

[furnaceface]

Jono appreciated that clarification, at least!

//Wouldn't mind somebody staying in here, at least,// he said, after a moment of hesitation. //In case my knees give out or something. I don't entirely trust myself to not crack my head right now.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal nodded and started undressing himself. No, he answered Bob's silent query, it probably wouldn't actually damage him, but it would still hurt.

[furnaceface]

And Jono started pulling his trousers down, leaving them in a heap on the floor along with his boots. The shirt was staying on for the time being, because ha, like he was going to wrestle with that without help.

And then he just sort of oozed his way into the shower.

//I don't remember hot water ever feeling this good,// he muttered.

And he'd been in a lot of situations where hot water afterwards would've been a godsend.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal folded his own clothes neatly, then Jono's, before stepping in to join him. "You've had a rather rough day or two." He shifted Jono slightly to let the water soak his shirt a bit more.

[furnaceface]

//Suppose I have, at that,// Jono allowed, closing his eyes and letting Hannibal manhandle him any which way he needed. //I imagine it'll take more than hot water before I feel less like I've been rolling around in wet garbage, anyway.//

It felt like his brain had been marinated in it. Not his favourite feeling in the world.

//Ugh. He's still in the cellar. I can feel him there.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Pull back," Hannibal advised. "Block out as much as you can that isn't right here." He sluiced the water over Jono's shoulder, tugging lightly on the shirt to see if it would come free yet. "Focus on your body and remembering every part of it as yourself."

[furnaceface]

A slightly wrinkled nose was the only indication that Jono was feeling any pain. He was too stubborn to protest, and, anyway, the pain was still a sort of touchstone. That was his shoulder. His. His pain.

//Right,// he murmured. //Pare it down. S'just you and me...// And Bob. Bob sort of counted. //Whatever else is out there, it doesn't matter...//

Yeah. Okay. He could handle that.

[sharp_as_knives]

Bob very much counted! To Bob, anyway.

"Just us," Hannibal confirmed. "And lovely hot water." He teased the shirt carefully out of Jono's skin.

[furnaceface]

//Nnn. It is nice, innit?//

He rolled his shoulder a little, opening his eyes and watching the grimy, bloody water run down the drain.

//How bad's the damage?//

Pretty bad, between the wound itself and whatever nastiness was in Betelgeuse's mouth.