Hannibal's house and totally not Jono's, Thursday evening

[sharp_as_knives]

Since they'd returned to their actual home (Hannibal somewhat amused at Jono's embarrassment over calling it that), Hannibal had done quite a bit of cooking, and resting, and working out, and catching up on things, and being sat upon and/or glared at by cats. Jono had been doing much the same, but with less cooking and far more brooding.

Today, he seemed to have spent most of the day in the basement level, working off his mood by alternately focusing furiously on billiards and beating the hell out of the heavy bag. Hannibal was frankly surprised that neither the bag nor a billiard ball had been put through the wall yet.

And while the focus and working off energy were good in theory, neither of them seemed to be helping him much. So, Hannibal would simply have to intervene.

When he came downstairs, he brought a good-sized mug of coffee and a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries. He did, after all, know his audience.

Comments

[furnaceface]

Jono nodded again, and then reached for a chair so that he could slump down into it.

//I've been making myself into my own damn weapon,// Jono mused, idly running a hand through his flames before reaching up to run it through his hair. //Whenever the need arises, at any rate. I suppose I've been wondering if I've been pointing it in the proper direction.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"I'm pleased to hear it." Hannibal leaned against the bar next to him, keeping their hands together and stroking his thumb across the backs of Jono's fingers. "Is there a direction in particular you've been considering?"

[furnaceface]

Jono's shoulders hitched up a little, a halfhearted shrug as he gave Hannibal's hand a squeeze.

//Not sure,// he admitted. //I used to think of myself as... if not a hero, at least the sort of person who preferred to do heroic things. These days, I've been questioning that. Last weekend didn't help that any.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Last weekend?" Hannibal prompted. "You were certainly my hero," he said, only half teasing.

[furnaceface]

//Yours,// Jono allowed, //and nobody else's. There were students on that bloody ship, Hannibal.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal nodded. "Yes. Students who did very well for themselves and had no need of help. But you still feel you ought to have."

[furnaceface]

//I didn't so much as think to go back for a bloody headcount,// Jonothon pointed out, wincing. //Even if they had it handled, I didn't know that. Hell, at the time, I didn't even much care.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"At the time you were running for the most part on instinct." Hannibal made a thoughtful noise. "That isn't a problem in and of itself, unless it's preventing you from thinking. If you had had the time to stop and analyze the situation, what do you think you would have done in that moment?"

[furnaceface]

//I would've attempted to at least try and get a feel for how many people were left on the ship,// Jono decided. //See if there were any wounded, that sort of thing... Everyone made it out, but we were all unarmed and naked against armed troops on their own playing field. It's nothing short of a miracle we didn't lose anybody.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal nodded. "What do you think stopped you? The disorientation of having your powers suddenly returned and your body changed again? Your anger at our captors?"

[furnaceface]

//Little of all of it, perhaps,// Jono admitted, running his hand through his flames again. //They got into our heads. Maybe I would've stuck around to play hero some more, but I have a very short fuse when it comes to what they do inside my mind.//

There was a note in that statement, though, that didn't sound completely convinced that it was quite so simple as all that.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Understandable," Hannibal noted. "But you worry that it says more about you as a person. That perhaps you aren't as altruistic as you believed?"

[furnaceface]

//Well, I never pretended to be a saint,// Jono pointed out. //But at the very least, I always cared about my students. That much... that was one of the very few givens I had to hold on to.//

And that weekend, he had very much not cared about anything but getting Hannibal and blowing up as many of the Zin as he possibly could along the way.

[sharp_as_knives]

"I have no doubt that you do care for them," Hannibal said. "Nor do I believe they have any doubts, either. One decision, particularly one heavily influenced by past trauma, need not define you."

[furnaceface]

//Mm. But between that and the stagnant feeling, it's a difficult decision to just brush off.// Jono leaned sideways slightly, gingerly, to be a bit closer to Hannibal. //Doesn't have to necessarily be true to gnaw at those little nooks and crannies that don't like to let go of errant thoughts.//

The sharks.

//Wanting revenge shouldn't ever come before them. I need to work on that, at the very least.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal was rather fond of revenge, personally, but he did try not to let it get in the way of other things. "There is a time for every thing?" he suggested. He reached out to run his free hand through Jono's hair. "But your instinct isn't matching your priorities."

[furnaceface]

//My instinct has had a rough go of things,// Jono allowed, giving a slow shake of his head. //And when it kicks in while the rest of my head is elsewhere, apparently a lot of things end up burning.//

He wished he could say that was a shame in the least. Honestly.

//... You said you brought something for the burns...?//

Lookit him, Hannibal. Even if he didn't actually care, sometimes he could be sensible, at least.

[sharp_as_knives]

"I did." Hannibal smiled and pulled out the cream. "Although if you'd like a strawberry before my hands are coated in this?"

It wasn't really a question, so he was reaching for one already.

[furnaceface]

//... I'm guessing the cream doesn't go terribly well with strawberry,// Jono noted, watching Hannibal make that reach. He really did know his audience, Jonothon couldn't even deny it. //Lord, you came in here ready for war, didn't you?//

Strawberries and coffee. Dangerous weapons in this case, okay?

[sharp_as_knives]

Chocolate-dipped strawberries, even. Hannibal ate one slowly and attentively before answering. "I wasn't certain if you'd stop of your own accord."

He put a hand on Jono's shoulder as he leaned in to take stock of the burns. "Should I ask which is hurting the most, or simply assume that they all are?"

[furnaceface]

//Yes...?// Sorry, Hannibal. Distracting him before asking him questions was exactly the wrong order to do this in if you were hoping for an immediately coherent answer. //Er. That is. There's one... left shoulderblade... cleanest shot they took, I think. Feels th'worst, anyway...//

It looked the worst, too, truthfully. And his day of punching things probably hadn't helped that much.

[sharp_as_knives]

Probably not, but as it wouldn't actually do him further damage, if the punching helped, it was all to the good. Hannibal looked that burn over carefully, layering the salve on it. "I'll put a bandage on this before you sleep, to keep the medication on it."

He ran his fingers over the other burns with just enough pressure to both examine their healing and remind Jono of their presence.

Both instincts and priorities could be adjusted, and he took a moment to contemplate either path before offering. "If your instinct is causing you do things you regret, the way to override it is to rewrite it. To make what you want to do, habit."

[furnaceface]

//... Make playing hero a habit?// Jono closed his eyes, taking in the sensation of Hannibal's fingers moving over his wounds.

Just enough pain to remind him that he was still alive.

//That is what I want to do, after all.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal grimaced. "If that's what you want to do. We have worlds to choose from; I'm certain you can find enough work to keep you busy."

[furnaceface]

//I can practically hear the pained expression on your face right now,// Jono observed, leaning his head back a little, eyes still closed. //But there's the trouble, at any rate. Throwing on a bloody costume and running around playing vigilante hero isn't exactly my style. Even when it was something I did regularly, it wasn't my style. Searching out supervillains and looking for trouble... Maybe that's not quite what I want to be, either.//

Even if he really did enjoy punching things. That part still worked for him just fine.