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]

Punching things. Jonothon could keep punching things until he was exhausted, and then turn his attention back to the billiards table. That was what they were both there for, weren't they? Working off... whatever... by throwing his focus into... anything but what was eating at him?

He was so intent on the 'punching things' aspect of his routine today that it took him a few moments before he realized that he had company.

It took him a few more moments to glance back Hannibal's way, flames tousling his hair as he did so. Normally he wouldn't bother unwrapping himself for all of this, but with the burns that were still healing after the weekend, even Jono was finding that his occasional masochistic streak most certainly had limits.

//Afternoon.//

Evening, Jon.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Evening," Hannibal corrected. He sipped his coffee and nodded at Jono's side. "I thought I'd see if you wanted more cream on any of those burns."

For a start.

[furnaceface]

There was a brief pause for consideration while Jono rolled one shoulder, and then winced. Now that he wasn't throwing himself into thumping the heavy bag around with so much focus, the pain was starting to creep into his consciousness again.

//... I suppose I ought to say yes,// he allowed, idly rubbing at his knuckles as he made his way across the room to join Hannibal. //It'll take them bloody forever to heal if I don't at least act like I no longer want to be wounded.//

Imagine that.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at him. "Meaning you do actually still want to be wounded, but you worry I'll think less of you if you admit it?"

Sometimes the blunt worked best.

[furnaceface]

Jono paused mid-stride and just looked at Hannibal, his expression flat.

//I hate it when you do that.//

Guess... at least somewhat accurately? Yes. Next, he supposed, Hannibal would probably start working him around to what was actually eating at him, using roundabout logic that made his head spin.

Things Hannibal was excellent at.

//I don't want to be wounded,// he added, a little more sullenly. //Not quite so simply put. I'm already plenty wounded, I don't need extra burns to remind me.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"But you find their presence reassuring," Hannibal noted. "And you feel you deserve them."

[furnaceface]

//I feel--// Jono's brow furrowed, and then he shook his head and crossed the rest of the room. //I feel like I don't feel nearly enough, and sometimes I crave a little extra sensation.//

Which wasn't what Hannibal was getting at, and he knew it.

//But deserve...? I wouldn't...//

... admit to it?

[sharp_as_knives]

"I'm aware," Hannibal answered to both the finished and unfinished thoughts. He held out a hand to Jono. "What has you feeling deadened lately?"

[furnaceface]

Jono reached to take that hand, since it was there, and gave his shoulders a little shrug.

//Hard to put my finger on, I suppose. There's usually something. It starts to bleed together, after a while.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"I suspect there's a great deal we can discount, however," Hannibal said. "You don't appreciate being kidnapped and played with, but you have already vented that anger on the ones responsible. You're frustrated at having been physically whole - however illusory the experience - and having it taken away again, but you are also relieved to have your mind and powers yours once more. We are, as is usual for Fandom, largely back where we began."

He pulled Jono closer, put Jono's hand on his chest, let his own breathing and heartbeat help ground him. "Set those things aside; what else first comes to mind?"

[furnaceface]

//Else?// Jono closed his eyes and let himself focus on that heartbeat, and on the rise and fall of Hannibal's chest. //I suppose...//

There was always something. A lot of somethings.

//I'm feeling twitchy again, I guess. Like I'm not doing near enough with myself.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Apart from being taken by aliens and escaping, teaching a class, working with Emma, and running a music store?" Hannibal asked. It wasn't as though Jono had been exactly sedentary. "We've missed a week reading at the library, but there is more of that to come."

He eyed Jono. "You miss your work in Glacia. You miss having a purpose other than your own."

[furnaceface]

There it was. And the moment Hannibal said it, Jono's shoulders slumped forward and his head hung a little and he nodded. Of course he nodded.

//Not that I'm in any hurry to run off and wear an X again,// he added. //But it's no small part of what I am. If I stagnate, I go half-mad. Always have.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal nodded in turn. "As do I. But I'm content to stretch myself in intellectual and artistic ways. You miss more than that."

He eyed Jono for a moment. "I remember your mind. I remember your fear of being nothing but a weapon, nothing but a thing for others to wield. Be certain you're not giving into that particular shark."

[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.