Hannibal's house, Friday evening (with hints of the past)

[sharp_as_knives]

The day had been decidedly long, and Hannibal was glad to finally make his way, avoiding any untoward encounters, back home. And, since Jono wasn't home yet, have a leisurely dinner of the sort he wasn't sharing with anyone these days.

[OOC: For the guy who can't duck a pitchfork!]

Comments

[furnaceface]

Jono had lingered outside for a little too long, today. By the time he made his way back home, his wrappings were in tatters hanging loose from under his jacket, and he was smeared with the sort of grit and grime that tended to come from a day of throwing down with all kinds of interesting, vicious creatures. He was tired, one of those down-to-the-bone sorts of tired, and he was sore, and if he had to listen to the sound of his own voice one more time...

//Honey, I'm home.//

There was meant to be some dry humour somewhere in that. See if you could spot it, Hannibal, as Jono stumbled in through the door.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal frowned slightly at the sound of Jono's voice. He finished the bite he was on, then headed toward the door, meeting him halfway there. He raised an eyebrow. "I take it you met some of the island's current unsavory additions?"

[furnaceface]

//One or two of them,// Jono agreed. He was still wearing his boots and his leather jacket. Removing one of those things involved more bending over than he was willing to do just then. The other involved dropping a large amount of bandages to the floor. Bloodied ones. //The island's a busy place today, isn't it?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Busier than usual," Hannibal agreed. "Are you injured?" It was always so difficult to tell by scent with Jono.

[furnaceface]

//Minor injuries. But annoying ones,// Jono allowed, shrugging his shoulders. In fairness, this was a guy who could live without a head on his shoulders. His self-diagnosis was probably flawed right from the get-go. //Nothing that anybody really needs to worry about, at any rate. I'll be fine.//

A small droplet of blood trickled down from just below his shoulder on to the small of his back. Jono did his best to not squirm outright.

[sharp_as_knives]

Fortunately, Hannibal was well acquainted with Jono's idea of "fine". He took Jono's arm to help support him and guided him toward the stairs. "Let's get you out of those things, and I'll take care of it."

[furnaceface]

//Look at you, all... doting...// Jono was still a touch too tired to sound like he was teasing. At that moment, he mostly wasn't. //Losing some of this mess would be good, though.//

More comfortable, at any rate.

[sharp_as_knives]

"It comes with the territory, I'm afraid," Hannibal said. "You'll lose all of this and we'll get you into the shower. Clean off while I get the first-aid kit."

[furnaceface]

Jonothon nodded, shrugging out of his coat as he veered toward the nearest bathroom in the house. A few more of his torn wrappings hung from the jacket, draped oddly here or there, a few stuck in place with dried blood.

Jono still wasn't certain why he was able to bleed, all things considered, but the only mind he paid to the mess of his leathers was a momentary look with a wrinkled nose.

//Clean sounds good. Tussling with angry mobs and demons in the mud by the duck pond isn't great for that.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Next time, you should tell them to move somewhere drier." Hannibal caught the bandages that fell free and steered Jono toward the master suite. It had the biggest shower and the most room.

[furnaceface]

Ooh. Bigger bathroom. Okay, Jono could handle the bigger bathroom. He didn't generally use it as often, even though it was just off the bedroom and all, but right now he was mostly just too tired to argue.

//You try telling them when they're coming after one of the students waving literal torches and bloody pitchforks,// Jono muttered, letting Hannibal take the lead. //They're not terribly good at listening, I'm afraid.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Which student?" Hannibal asked. "Are they well?"

[furnaceface]

//Raven will be fine,// Jono replied, shrugging his shoulders a little, favouring one over the other. For pitchfork reasons. //Her attackers vanished as though they'd never been there, save for the injury I took from them, and I think at least now she's come to terms with the fact that whatever it is the island has been throwing at people, it's not all completely real. Dangerous, yes, but dangerous and real aren't necessarily the same.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Something more than bad dreams and odd creatures." Hannibal frowned in thought. He tossed the bandages he held toward the corner of the bathroom and reached for the light -

- and a familiar face, a familiar smell, was there in the dimness. "You're not my friend. The...uh...light from friendship won't reach us for a million years, that's how far away from friendship we are."

"Will?" It was impossible, Hannibal knew it, but every sense said he was here.

[furnaceface]

Jono had been about to confirm that, yes, it was definitely something more. He'd been about to describe his own visitor, leaning against a park bench and taking joy in taunting him. But another voice broke in first, and Jono turned to look, eyebrows furrowed faintly.

Given everything else that had happened today, he didn't imagine that this was a good visit.

//He's not real,// Jono murmured, leaning up against the door frame. //He's a memory, or a figment, but he's not really here.//

There was a lot in the way that Hannibal had said that name.

It was a very loaded name.

Going by what he already knew of that name, this was a very loaded figment.

[sharp_as_knives]

"A memory?"

Will smirked. "You think you can get rid of me just like that? Lock me up, tie me in knots, then snap your fingers and I'm gone?"

Hannibal took a deep breath. "You left me. Betrayed yourself and rejected my friendship."

[furnaceface]

This one... this one seemed more engaged than the memories did. This one was one of the figments, then, like his Weapon X self, like a shadow sitting in the shadows, knowing exactly where to strike to make it hurt the most.

Jono reached for Hannibal's hand. Nothing more. He didn't know this Will, beyond what Hannibal had told him. But he could show his partner that he was there. That much, he could do.

He was there. He was listening.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal squeezed Jono's hand and nodded. Will had left him, yes; but he had someone else who did his best to understand him and who wanted to be with him.

He stepped forward, looking this memory squarely in the face. "I can forgive you for everything but your self-betrayal. You will have to forgive yourself for that." His hand came up, the scalpel that was rarely far from him these days burying itself in the vision's neck. Will choked, gagged, and disappeared, leaving only the blood on Hannibal's hand.

[furnaceface]

Perhaps it was because he was still so on edge after a day spent fighting anything and everything that moved out there, or maybe it was because Weapon X was still so fresh on his mind, but one of the first thoughts to cross Jono's mind was, 'Scalpel. I'll need to get myself one.'

One of his second thoughts, and the one he actually shared with Hannibal tinged with a note of concern, was, //That can't have been easy.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal had any number of them; he'd be happy to gift Jono one.

He smiled back at Jono. Perhaps there was a touch of sadness in his eyes, but they were mostly calm. "Easy to kill memories when the present is so much improved." He shook his head. "Let's get you cleaned up."

[furnaceface]

That calm always astounded Jono. Always. Especially in moments like this, when he'd be halfway out of his own head. If the island made him dispose of somebody he'd actually cared about...

He wasn't going to let himself think about that. That direction would only invite another episode of 'the greatest regrets of Jonothon's life,' and he didn't much care for that show, thank you.

//Fine,// he allowed. //But if there's anything you need. At all. I'm here.//

[sharp_as_knives]

The fact he'd nearly killed Will once already hadn't hurt.

"I appreciate that," Hannibal answered sincerely. He reached for the light again with his clean hand, then rinsed his hand and scalpel off before turning to help Jono finish undressing.

[furnaceface]

The ugliest of Jono's injuries, not helped any by the fact that he'd been scuffling in the mud with it all afternoon, but at least slightly saved by the fact that his jacket had been covering the worst of it most of the time, was obviously the portion of his back where there were four still-bleeding holes, tongues of flame flickering through from time to time.

Jono wasn't too proud to admit, if nudged, that perhaps it had been stupid to keep going with that one instead of heading home. The constant action and strain on that particular injury had kept the holes from doing much more than bleed.

The rest were mostly just nasty bruises and fatigue at work. A few lacerations, but nothing that was going to need more than a stitch or a decent cleaning and some fresh bandages, pitchfork injury aside.

//... It's been a long day.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal shook his head. "So I see." He felt along the wounds carefully. "A shower would be easiest, but might hurt more. Are you up to a bath?"

[furnaceface]

//I can handle a bit of pain,// Jono pointed out, but relented a moment later. //Still... a bath doesn't sound like a terrible idea, at that. Anything to relax a little after a day like today, I won't start turning down now.//

Relaxing would be a great follow-up to such greatest hits as 'the boyfriend's ex just showed up to haunt him,' and 'Raven's angry mob.' Not to mention the 'managing to not yell at Karla because it is literally no problem of Jonothon's anymore,' and 'apparently some demons can't just be burned to death...'

A long soak didn't sound so terrible, after all that.