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

[sharp_as_knives]

In lieu of answering, Hannibal slid in behind him, his legs going to either side of Jono and his arms settling around his waist. "What do you think?"

[furnaceface]

//Perfect fit,// Jono murmured, turning just enough to catch Hannibal out of the corner of his eye. //Comfortable back there?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Perfectly," Hannibal murmured back. A little cramped, perhaps, but the water was warm and Jono's presence was comforting. He moved his hands slowly and carefully over Jono's skin, rubbing gently at the scrapes and cuts he found, cleaning them out.

[furnaceface]

The feel of Hannibal's hands moving over his back was soothing, a sort of soothing that Jono had spent a lot of his life wondering after. There was actual care, there; a concern for his well-being that helped to push away the concerns built up throughout the day.

Jonothon sent a little murmur of approval, all wrapped up in a warm glow of gratitude. If he'd been doing this himself, he probably would've just showered, put some kind of antiseptic on the injuries he could reach, thrown some fresh bandages on the rest, and hoped for the best.

Jono was... still figuring out the basics of self-care.

[sharp_as_knives]

If he were trying, that was progress, but Hannibal preferred a bit more careful an approach.

"Will you tell me about it?" he asked. He winced at the holes that would need more than cursory care.

[furnaceface]

//The injury? Or...?//

Jono had fixed a stare toward his knees. There were a good many things that Hannibal could be asking after right now, starting with the pitchfork holes and moving merrily along into what the hell had him on tenterhooks tonight.

[sharp_as_knives]

"An angry mob with pitchforks, you said. I do wish you would better learn to dodge," Hannibal said, a hint of amused exasperation in his voice. "The rest of it."

[furnaceface]

//There were more of them than there were of me,// Jono muttered. //I was just keeping myself between them and Raven until I could be certain that witnessing the wholesale slaughter of them with my flames wouldn't traumatize her or something.//

He'd asked permission to kill them. After one had run him through with the pitchfork.

//The rest is... it's definitely something. You got a visit from Will. I got a visit from me.//

Which made perfect sense, really, when looking at the things about Jono's past that haunted him the most.

[sharp_as_knives]

It did make sense; Hannibal just nodded. "Which of you?" He gently cleaned the pitchfork holes.

[furnaceface]

//Weapon X,// Jono muttered, closing his eyes shut tightly. Gentle or not, those wounds hurt. Hannibal absolutely had the right idea, bathing instead of trying to suck it up and hang in there through a shower. //Because... of bloody course it was.//

Other iterations of himself had a lot to dredge up, absolutely. But none of them came with quite so many regrets.

[sharp_as_knives]

A gentle washcloth was next, soft cloth and hot water to rinse the scabbed bits clear. "Past memories and guilt. What did you do?" Hannibal was very good at pulling free scabs to clean a wound.

[furnaceface]

Jono just shook his head a little.

//Froze up.// Because of course he had. //Raven was the one who talked me into dealing with him. An elbow to the guts and a boot to the face. But he was very good at saying exactly what I didn't want to hear.//

Of course he was. Nobody knew how to tear Jono down a few rungs quite like Jono did.

[sharp_as_knives]

"But you did deal with him," Hannibal pointed out. "Good." He peered at the wounds. "Lean forward; I'm going to give you a local anesthetic before I clean these out."

[furnaceface]

//Right,// Jono murmured, leaning forward obediently. //I did deal with him.//

Which was great for the 'out here' aspect of him, but really didn't make him go away from where he was camped out inside the shadows of his own head.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal dried his hands on a towel and unpacked a syringe and anesthetic. "Even a symbolic victory has significance," he said. "Eventually you should look at that part of yourself and accept the parts that are still true and dismiss the rest. Until then, the fact that you were willing to get rid of him when he taunted you is promising."

[furnaceface]

There was a long moment's silence, and then Jono offered, //Raven was offering to do it for me. Didn't know that it was me, at first. And he's... you know how dangerous he is. At least somewhat. I had no idea if he could be just as destructive as the mob that had chased her.//

Even this time, he hadn't gotten rid of him entirely for his own sake.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal thought for a moment as he administered the anesthetic around the wounds. "I still choose to see it as progress. One of us must be an optimist."

[furnaceface]

//And you're much better at it than I am,// Jono half-teased, keeping his eyes closed. //You're probably the right man for th'job, there.//

Jono was never going to be an optimist. Sorry, Hannibal.

[sharp_as_knives]

"I accept," Hannibal said, grinning. He kissed the back of Jono's head and set the needle down in favor of a bulb syringe. "But I'll at least make a realist of you yet."

[furnaceface]

//We can't just settle for the two of us almost averaging out to realism?//

Almost, because Jono's pessimism was well and truly established. And was pretty darn pessimistic.

[sharp_as_knives]

And Hannibal's optimism was less, "everything will end for the best" and more, "I'll make everything end for the best and kill what gets in my way", so.

"I never settle for less than the best," Hannibal answered, rinsing the deeper wounds as clean as he could. At least they didn't have to worry about infection, with Jono's flames licking out through the holes.

[furnaceface]

That did help rather a lot, yes.

//True enough,// Jono allowed. //I'll behave myself, then, and not ask how in the world it was that you decided to settle for me.//

That was kind of like asking, Jono.

[sharp_as_knives]

"I settle for nothing," Hannibal said firmly. He finished washing everything, then set down the syringe and coaxed Jono to lean back against him again. "Do you think I would accept less in a partner than in anything else?"

[furnaceface]

Ah, leaning. Good. Jono was very happy to lean, easing back so that he was resting against Hannibal.

//No,// he said, finally. //No, I suppose you wouldn't, would you?//

To say anything less would be insulting, really.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Never." Hannibal smiled into Jono's hair. "I suppose you'll simply have to accept that." He moved his hands over Jono's sides and as much of his chest as there was, searching out other injuries.