"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.