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Tweak says, "A moose bit my sister once."

Erik (i_haunt) wrote in we_coexist,
@ 2013-08-10 00:22:00

Entry tags:

erik, hannibal lecter, zz:status complete

Repair (Hannibal)
(Backdated to this night)

The hanging clock read 7:39. Erik finally rose from his desk chair and eased his way toward the door. With the help of his assistant, they'd managed to call everyone to cancel the evening's work schedule. Tomorrow, he was sure the City would mend the damage done to his precious Opera House, and practice and work would go on as usual. He would not allow the season to be set back yet again. It had suffered too many delays already.

Fortunately, the Hulk's destruction had not harmed any of the ones who worked here, although some of those with more delicate constitutions who had been within the Opera House walls were shaken. He was uncertain he could say that the sets and props were undamaged, however. He needed to see for himself.

Gritting his teeth, he moved carefully down the evening-lit hall toward the stage. Light headed, he set his gloved hand against the wall and kept it there, letting it help him walk toward his destination. There were none within the Opera House now to see his weakness. But the climb up the steps backstage was far more difficult than it should have been. He was obliged to pause half-way, his grip on the railing so tight as to bruise his palm.

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i_consume
2013-08-11 01:13 am UTC (link)

The phonecall had been very brief. The man speaking on the other end whispering very softly. Hannibal thought that if he'd been calling anybody else, the conversation wouldn't have gone as well as it did. He seemed to be in a bit of a panic, and the doctor could hear the strain in his tone, despite the low volume.

He assured Michael that he would be at the Opera House shortly and hung up. There was no use, he was sure, trying to get the details before he got there, since it seemed to him that Michael was sure that he would get in trouble for even calling. There was relief in the thanks that came right before the dial tone. Probably not just for the help that Hannibal was about to offer Erik, but for how quick the conversation had gone and that it could now be ended.

It was easy to find his way to where Erik was, especially after seeing the state of the place. He was curious to know what had gone on. But answers could come later. Hannibal knew that the composer would be making sure everything was alright. He'd want to assure himself that things were still intact.

On top of that, Hannibal could smell the blood.

Like a predator on the hunt, he tracked Erik easily through the darkness. He didn't need any more lighting than what was there to move. He knew the space almost as well as Erik did. And that scent laid out a a very vivid path.

Thinking to cut off Erik's progress, Hannibal mounted the other set of steps, on the opposite end of the stage. He could hear Erik moving, struggling. Hannibal also moved, with much less noise. Even the small bag of supplies he'd brought with him were silent. He heard the pause in steps, and that's when he made himself known. He placed his body at the top of the stairs, directly in the middle.

"You'd rather suffer than call for help." He shook his head. "Even when you've a skilled surgeon as a friend. I should be offended."

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i_haunt
2013-08-11 10:54 pm UTC (link)

Erik straightened immediately and released the rail. At once, even in the low light, the wounded composer became the master of his opera house, a palpable cloak of command settling over his shoulders. He started up the stairs again, and if he did it slowly, he also did it with a dignity he would not relinquish, not even for the one who'd seen him at his most undignified. He'd taken great care. From his outward appearance, he did not seem like a bleeding, injured man. The suit jacket covered that swath of fabric wrapped tightly about his waist, and his bearing covered for the rest. Most of the rest.

"Merely a scratch," he said lightly, but the lines in his white face belied the statement. When he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped, waiting patiently for Hannibal to step aside. The brilliant pianist was between him and the damage he'd come to survey.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, and then saw the bag that Hannibal carried. His expression darkened. "I haven't checked on the pianos yet," he said. "You're welcome to come with me -- but I daresay it'll be a painful journey." An ironic smile touched his thin mouth, at that. Painful indeed.

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i_consume
2013-08-12 09:53 pm UTC (link)

"Bullshit." Hannibal rarely cursed. But that one seemed very apt for this moment. Erik pretending to be unscathed in front of him was as foolish as a wounded gazelle trying to prance around before a starving lion. Only Hannibal was not likely to consume the man he was looking at. He'd already had that pleasure. "Erik, I was able to use the scent of your blood to follow you here, to know where you were going. That is not just a scratch, my friend. And why is it that you see fit to lie to me? Why would you think that would even work?"

He stepped aside, if only because trying to examine and repair Erik on the steps was foolish and near impossible. There was a whole stage where the composer could be spread out, thus no reason to even attempt anything on the stairs.

"I've been here long enough to know that you're accounting for the damage left behind by what I can only assume was a very large and very rabid elephant with a personal vendetta against music." He lifted a brow, expecting this to very much not be the answer that he would be given. "Long enough to have seen you move, and know the amount of agony you're in. We don't have to have an argument about this, Erik. Let me fix you, and it'll be done. And done much quicker than it would be otherwise. You know I will persist until you're too frustrated to argue anymore. We can skip that step entirely."

It would hurt him greatly if the pianos were damaged, but Hannibal was sure that they wouldn't be in any different state fifteen minutes from now.

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i_haunt
2013-08-13 12:30 am UTC (link)

Erik took the final step upward and stared at Hannibal. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were charged with something like anger. The moment passed, and he wordlessly lifted a hand to indicate they move backstage. There were dressing rooms that would serve the need -- and those rooms had locks on the doors. He would not endure some well-meaning prop master or costumer too see him in this state. He could barely endure Hannibal to see it.

As they walked, Erik gritted out, "It was Enigma's husband. He came to fetch her, although how he found her here, I have not yet determined." Erik suspected that Enigma had broken her word, had told her husband of the underground sanctuary he'd built into this place. No one else but Christine knew of his house by the lake, and it was unsettling to know that his sanctuary was no longer private. It was also utterly destroyed. Erik had hardly managed to find a pass up to the surface. He'd lost more blood than he wanted to admit, making his way up.

In his day, gas lights were what illuminated the dressing rooms here, but the City had fitted the rooms with electricity instead. Erik did not prefer this harsh lighting, but it served better for the work ahead of Hannibal. When the light was on, Erik carefully shrugged out of his suit jacket. It was beginning to soak through anyway.

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i_consume
2013-08-13 03:20 pm UTC (link)

Hannibal waited out his friend's irritation with him. He supposed that it was only familiarity and that intimacy they'd already shared that saved him from any kind of fight. If Erik's resentment of this grudging acceptance had a flavor, Hannibal imagined that it would be bitter almond.

He followed the Opera House's genius like a ghost. Quietly and just enough out of reach that should Erik's annoyance return, any impromptu gesture of violence would fall on air and do neither of them harm. Hannibal felt no real threat, but knew that a wounded animal could act outside of previously held designs at any moment.

"Her husband?" Hannibal looked over his shoulder, into the darkness, at the place. He had not read anything so special in her file that should denote an ability such as this in the man. But then, he could hardly be surprised at the revelation, could he? More in this place were with enhancements than not. "It would be too much to hope that she's available for questioning."

He stopped. "You're the reason she was no longer in jail?"

Hannibal had no idea what Erik would be doing with the girl. He would have imagined that Erik would be glad of her being out of his hair. She had provided a good voice to the Opera House and many problems. To break her out would lead to ... what? What were his motives? His plans?

He studied the jacket carefully as it was removed, noting the added weight due to the blood. His head shook slowly.

"It's amazing what you think you can survive, Erik. And increasingly annoying that you would not just call on me to fix these issues right away. I would think you'd be more trusting after your surgery."

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i_haunt
2013-08-14 10:23 pm UTC (link)

The removal of the makeshift bandage around his waist was easy. The fabric of that thin cotton shirt, completely saturated, simply fell once unknotted. The dress shirt under it was more painful. It'd begun to cling to the edges of the wound and pulling that ruined shirt off his shoulders was more painful than he wanted to show. As it was, he got by with snapping his teeth together - hard. "I know very well what I can survive," Erik said between those locked teeth. He had survived far worse than this paltry wound -- the wound gifted by a teen girl. "I do this now, because I am also aware of your incessant nagging." And if there had been an audience there to have heard the delivery of that softly spoken line, no one in it would have guessed that Erik considered Hannibal a friend.

"Enigma's husband transforms into a large, green monster. It is responsible for all the damage to my opera house that you've seen -- and some you have not." He paused. It was... wise... to show Hannibal the house by the lake. If it were as unsecured as Erik thought it might be, thanks to Enigma's very large mouth, then there may come a time when he would need someone to know where to look. Especially if Christine were in trouble down there.

"Enigma is gone," he confirmed as he tossed his ruined dress shirt across the back of the chair in the dressing room. He sat on the edge of the vanity, just in front of the mirror, because it was higher than the chair. He suspected it would be easier for Hannibal to do what he would insist on doing -- and the easier, the faster -- and the faster, the more quickly he could see to his sets, his pianos. But his hands were white when he gripped the edge of the vanity as he perched.

"I'd taken her from her cell because she threatened my wife, and she fancies herself in love with me -- despite having the undeserved love of a good man. Her husband is worthy of much more than she. But I digress. My goal was to ingrain in her the true meaning of love, in the hopes that she would turn her eyes to her husband and understand at the same time that harming Christine was the worst crime she could commit against me." He shook his head. "It did not go as planned."

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i_consume
2013-08-14 10:39 pm UTC (link)

"Yes." Hannibal smiled. "You are very aware of that. Else you'd not undergone the surgery that saved your life and allowed you to marry the woman that you love. I'm glad that you recall it. I would hate to have to employ it yet again to remind you. Which, I'd like you to know, I would do again and again. Keep that in mind for the future."

He took no offense to the tone of Erik. He knew that stubbornness could be a gift and an annoyance all at the same time. The man was but a human, Hannibal had seen that for himself, yet he seemed to think that he could just brush off most of the things that humans could not.

And with Hannibal at his side as his doctor, perhaps he could.

"Oh, I am very aware of whom Enigma thinks she loves. We had a lovely chat. Had you informed me that you intended to take her, or that you even wanted her, Erik, I would have done more to have her release assured. It could have been far easier. I had thought that you would be pleased enough with the trial and her time in prison. I apologize for my incorrect assumption."

He approached and looked at the wound before touching it. He could tell by Erik's posture and color that it wasn't comfortable, and he didn't wish to create any undue pain.

"She cannot know the true meaning of love, my friend, because she does not yet love herself. She cannot love herself until she stops trying to please everybody else in the world that she comes into contact with. But tell me, how is that things have gone, if not the way you wished?"

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i_haunt
2013-08-14 11:59 pm UTC (link)

Although Erik didn't agree with Hannibal's reasoning for why Enigma couldn't know the true meaning of love (for one could hardly say that Erik had ever learned to love himself -- and yet, he loved Christine very much), the composer still agreed with Hannibal's assessment. She didn't know the true meaning. And it seemed less and less possible to bring her to the understanding - now more than ever.

When Hannibal posed his question, Erik frowned. "I tried fantasy, first. She saw completely through it. Then I staged my death before her. When I came to, she believed herself to be someone else - an 'Effie Nashton'. She acted as if she were a child, even younger than her years professed, and wholeheartedly denied her own actions as Enigma. She was never my prisoner; she'd agreed to come with me to work through how to deserve the love she's been given. But when I was sure there was nothing more I could do to reach her, I didn't try to stop her husband when he arrived."

He grimaced. "I am not pleased with the damage he left in payment for my kindness."

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i_consume
2013-08-15 12:03 am UTC (link)

He'd pulled on his gloves and begun the work he was needed for as Erik spoke. He was more than capable of having the conversation and fixing the torn flesh at the same time. But then something interesting came out of Erik's mouth. Something that pulled at him.

Hannibal paused in his work to look at his friend.

"Effie Nashton." He knew that name. Well. "Effie Nashton is who she lived as for a long time. A regular girl with a regular life. She tried very hard to be a good girl for a long time. Enigma is the name given her by father. The man who she wishes most to please."

He gave this much consideration as he bent back and returned his hands to the job they did as if he'd been born doing it. Hannibal worked as fast as he could so that the pain wouldn't be drawn out.

"I wonder." But he kept his musings to himself.

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i_haunt
2013-08-15 12:17 am UTC (link)

Grudgingly grateful for the speed at which Hannibal worked, Erik held himself stone-still and stared stoically at the wall ahead of him. He told himself that the pain was annoying rather than painful, a trifle that shouldn't have slowed him down and would be dismissed soon enough. The trick was a common one for him, one he easily fell into. He endured without complaint.

The insight Hannibal provided on Enigma was interesting indeed. Erik found himself wishing to kill the father that had driven the girl into the state she was in -- not to revenge Engima on him, but to break the hold that Hannibal suggested. With her father out of the way, perhaps she would be able to understand. Perhaps she would not be a danger to his wife, if she were to understand.

Killing Enigma would be a simpler solution. Even still, he was loathed to do it. He knew that her husband was a very good man, and he could not bring himself to destroy the one Bruce Banner loved. The simpler solution would have to be set aside.

"What is it that you wonder?" Erik finally asked.

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i_consume
2013-08-15 12:23 am UTC (link)

Hannibal finished before he answered Erik's questioning, placing aside his instruments and reading new bandages. Things that were actually made to be bandages, at that.

"If while in this state, she has no idea of the things that she's done, that perhaps her emotional bondage can be undone. Obliterated. I've seen her file. I've spoken to her on these matters. She's entirely wrapped up in him. She cannot have her own life while he exists for her."

He began the job of putting the bandages on after swabbing the wound with the stinging orange Betadine.

"But I have to wonder at how deep it runs. I trust in you to know that it isn't an act. How massive is the fissure, however, how damaged is she now. Or undamaged, as the case may be. Is it amnesia, or a reversal? These are things I don't expect you to know off hand, mind. Musing aloud, is all."

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i_haunt
2013-08-16 11:00 pm UTC (link)

The wound felt on fire. Erik maintained his stoic expression, the stillness in his form, but his voice slipped slightly from its normal smooth musicality to a more metallic rasp.

"She acted far younger than 19," he answered. "Were I to infer from her behavior, I would choose a reversal over amnesia. She seemed to recognize me, but only vaguely."

He wondered just what other skills Hannibal possessed in his repertoire. "She is a threat to my wife," he said carefully. "Or, she was, before. Now, she is horrified of the idea of crime in general. This was not my goal. But it will suffice for now. If it does not hold, then..."

Erik frowned.

Then he would kill her father. He knew it already. The decision had yet to be voiced, but his mind was set.

It had been long since he'd taken a life.

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i_consume
2013-08-16 11:14 pm UTC (link)

He nodded. The wrapping of Erik's wound was done in silence. Contemplating the things that he was hearing. He couldn't know the facts of it unless he saw for himself the state of her. He wouldn't know what he would be able to do until he met this new mentality in person.

"One way or the other, Erik," Hannibal said in a tone that conveyed deep promise. "Enigma and Effie Nashton will be of no further threat to you or Christine."

It could not stand.

There was no plan as of that moment, he had no idea of what would come next. He didn't know where the girl was, and had no idea if he could find that out. And if he did, he had no idea if he would be able to get to her. But he would do his best.

"If I find anything out, I'll let you know."

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i_haunt
2013-08-17 12:55 am UTC (link)

He shifted his weight back onto his feet again and carefully slid his shirt back over his shoulders. He needed a change of clothing before he left for the manor, or risk terrifying his wife. She would like like to see him injured. There would be little helping that, but he could ease her into the knowledge if he was careful.

Gratitude pressed heavily on the man. It was an unfamiliar weight, but not necessarily unwelcome.

"Pianos," he said, but the tone carried some of his appreciation for Hannibal's intervention - all of it. And then, to forestall any possible objection, he agreed before he was asked: "And then I shall retire for the evening."

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i_consume
2013-08-17 02:29 pm UTC (link)

Hannibal wasn't going to push Erik for any thanks, that wasn't why he was going to do whatever it was that he was going to do. And he knew already that the man wasn't particularly used to having friends or having people do things for him. Hannibal wasn't going to make him more uncomfortable just because of a pair of words he didn't particularly need to hear.

He was aware of the way that Erik felt. Posture, the look in his eyes.

"Yes. Let us have a look at the pianos and see what needs to be done." Now that Erik was tended to, he discovered that he was also fairly concerned about what have may happened to the instruments that he worked with so closely.

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