fandomtownies | The park, Saturday morning

Lucille had gone for a walk in the park, and when she approached the point she noticed a familiar figure.

And yet not quite. She approached slowly, intrigued.

"Dr Lecter?"

Hearing his name - partly - Hannibal looked over, then eyed the girl warily, tensed and ready to run if he had to.

Lucille was familiar by now with the possibility of people not being who they seemed. She stopped where she was and asked:

"Are you Dr Lecter?"

Hannibal eyed her suspiciously a bit longer. Did he look like a doctor?

"I'm going to assume that is a no," Lucille said, giving him an unimpressed look. "Cat got your tongue?"

Hannibal gave her a suitably disdainful look and went back to eating his apple. He kept half an eye on her, but if she wasn't going to attack him (or, less probably, give him food), he wasn't going to bother with her.

Lucille could certainly give him a look to match, then just walked past, continuing her walk. How sad that someone looking like a young Dr Lecter would be so rude.

Jono had been maybe a little concerned after finding himself in a strange home. A little more concerned to find that apparently he'd left notes to himself, in his own handwriting, telling him that yes, he did live there, and to feed the cats before going out to do anything stupid.

Which really didn't explain much of anything, except that there were things in the house that belonged to him. Photos of himself. A uniform with an X on it in his size. And that definitely did seem like the sort of letter he would write to himself.

So, here he was, with his own wallet that he wasn't familiar with, wrapped from head to toe and wearing underwear that another note in the dresser assured him was his, even if it was more than a bit more fancy than he was used to.

And there was a little black kitten in his pocket, because she'd been mewling around his ankles even after he'd fed both the cats. He'd stopped by the music shop, found himself disappointed to find it was closed. Was similarly disappointed by the bookstore. So now he was just... walking. Getting a feel for this place. Walking through the park.

Getting nasty looks by the ducks, who apparently expected him to be carrying more than a kitten.

He bunched up in the shoulders a bit, and then continued on his way, pausing only to give a sort of side-eye at the boy in the bushes.

//You know... mate... there are benches.//

They were probably more comfortable than the ground.

Hannibal gave the other boy a wary look - more for his size than anything else - glanced at the nearest bench, and shrugged.

It's okay, Hannibal. Jono was tall, but skinny. And much lighter than he looked.

He shrugged his shoulders right back, tilted his head at the boy, and then made his way to take a seat on the bench. Yes. Even with the ducks harassing his ankles expectantly.

//Suit yourself. I suppose the ducks are less interested in you, that way.//

Hannibal watched him for a while longer, then when he didn't seem hostile, his natural curiosity won out and he came to sit on the bench. On the other end, but still.

Jono looked sidelong at the boy again, this time just giving him a simple little nod of greeting. Hey. They could both share this bench. Sit and be weird with ducks peering up at him expectantly. Why not?

//I should have... brought bread crumbs, I suppose. That's... probably what they're looking for.// He nodded down at the birds. //Pushy.//

Hannibal weighed the birds against his own needs, but he wasn't too hungry now, and this place seemed rich enough. He unwrapped the towel enough to pull out a roll, broke it in half, and held one piece out to the other boy.

Jono considered the offered bread roll, glanced between it and the boy who was holding it out to him, and then silently nodded his thanks as he accepted the offering.

Thoughtfully, almost ritually, he started to pull off pieces to offer to the birds.

God, he envied those birds. Even the bread seemed like a feast, and they were snatching it up readily.

//Thank you,// he said, watching the birds finish every crumb before tearing more off to give to them. //I don't suppose... that was all you had...?//

He glanced at the boy again, then gestured around the park with what was left of the bread.

//Are you... staying out here?//

Hannibal looked up from feeding the birds his half, frowned a bit, then decided that anyone feeding birds was all right, and opened the towel to offer him more. He looked around the park, shrugged, and nodded.

Jono gave the boy something sort of like a smile, though he hadn't really had much practice yet in the art of doing so without benefit of a mouth. He held up a hand and shook his head.

//I don't want... to take more food from your... mouth, mate,// he said, gently. //But thank you.//

He drummed his fingers on his knee, threw the last of the bread crumbs to the birds, and then ventured, //How would you like... a proper meal...? My treat.//

Edited 2016-09-10 22:30 (UTC)

That perked up Hannibal's warning instincts, and he tensed, eyeing the other boy more suspiciously. An offer of a meal could be many things, few of them good.

Jono didn't even need to have telepathic powers to notice a reaction like that. He shook his head, waved a hand a little, and shrugged.

//Feel free... t'turn me down.// He glanced his way. Waved a hand toward his face. //It'd be an awkward meal... anyway. I'd just be... sitting and watching.//

Which sounded creepy even to him, when he put it like that. He couldn't groan, but he did slump backwards on the bench, staring up at the sky as though he had.

//Christ, said like that... I'd turn me... down, too.//

Hannibal was leaning away now, ready to flee, but not heading off yet. He pursed his lips, aware he might actually have to speak for this.

He thought about it. Considered everything. Then spoke briefly in a rusty voice.

"Why?"

Jono stared up at the sky quietly for a minute, considering the significance of that one word, how it sounded as though it had been dragged forth from a throat that made sound almost as often as his own did, these days.

And then he looked toward the other boy.

//You were... kind.// He looked down at the birds. //Not used to that... I suppose.//

Hannibal huffed; he'd been thinking the same thing. Maybe this other boy wasn't so different from him after all.

He settled back a bit again and shrugged. He still had his knife, if it came to that.

For all the good it would have done against a guy like Jono anyway. For what it was worth, he shrugged too, and then leaned forward to watch the birds.

//Sorry,// he said, after a few minutes more. //Didn't mean to... worry you.// He shrugged. //'M... bad at this.//

Hannibal thought for a moment. He could understand that, he supposed; he wasn't wonderful at it himself. He shook a few crumbs out of his towel at the birds, not willing to give them all his bread, but wanting to help.

Jono watched in silence as the ducks squabbled among themselves for the other boy's offerings. And then he nodded again.

//Next time... I'll remember to bring... bread for them, too...//

Next time? Hannibal looked the question at the other boy, glancing back to the city. Did he come here often? Did he know where here was?

Edited 2016-09-11 02:18 (UTC)

Jono glanced back at the other boy, and then shrugged his shoulders.

//Apparently I... left a letter for myself.// He reached into his pocket, pausing to scratch the dozing kitten behind her tiny ear, and then fishing her out to offer to the other boy. //Hold this?//

Joni yawned, but otherwise settled into Jono's hands. She was clearly used to being relocated so that he could go digging for things, already.

//Not sure if... I trust it. Woke in a... strange bed. Apparently... inherited a... cat.//

Two cats? The letter hadn't been clear on that matter so much, but this one had certainly been hell-bent on having his affection.

Hannibal blinked in surprise, but took the cat, cradling her gently. She purred as he rubbed behind her ears, and it was hard not to smile.

He cuddled his face into her fur, stalling for time, trying to decide whether to talk again, before deciding just to wait and hear the other boy out.

//I don't know what... to make of this,// Jono continued, not expecting the other boy to speak if he wasn't comfortable doing so. He fished out the letter and looked it over again. //It's... my writing, but I don't... remember writing it.//

And it very clearly told him that he belonged where he had woken up, and to feed the cats. Priorities.

//You'd think... I would've told myself... where th'hell we are.//

No dice.

Hannibal shrugged. He had no idea, and there had been nothing in his shabby pockets this morning at all.

No cats, either. But this one was very cuddly. The other boy might not be getting her back.

For what it was worth, it wasn't like Jono remembered the cuddly cat at the moment, either. The other boy was welcome to get his fill of snuggles for now.

//Have half a mind... t'write myself a letter... back,// he muttered. //If there wasn't... another cat... in that house, I wouldn't... be going back.//

He glanced at the boy again.

//I don't trust this place.//

Hannibal nodded firmly at that. He didn't trust it, either. But then, he trusted the orphanage less so far - this place hadn't been hostile to him yet. Still, you never knew when it might turn.

He looked up at the other boy and hoisted the cat in question. Why bring one and not the other?

In reply, Jono just gave the boy a wry glance and rolled up his sleeve, just enough to show some angry red claw marks.

//Turns out... some cats... don't like t'be held.//

Plus the big one wouldn't have fit in his pocket. But that was neither here nor there.

//I'll go... back. T'feed him, if not to... take him with me. Might've just... startled him. He needed... space.//

Socializing with this boy was a bit like conversing with cats, Jono was finding. Give him space. Let him do his own thing. Ease off if he looked uncomfortable.

Hannibal nodded, and grinned a little at the scratches. The cat knew what it wanted, and wasn't afraid to say so. And...this other boy didn't smell like death. He'd let the cat scratch him and live; that was a point in his favour.

No death, no, but fire and his own burning flesh. He was much harder on himself than on startled felines, apparently.

//Got me good,// Jono mused, looking in bemusement at the scratches, himself. //I think... he couldn't hear me coming. Probably deaf.//

In which case, those scratches were totally his own fault, and he respected that.

He smelled odd, true, but not like blood and dead cat, which was the important part here.

Hannibal shrugged. If that were the case, yes, it was entirely the other boy's fault.

The cat in his hands climbed up to curl under his neck, and Hannibal smiled at it and cuddled it closer.

There was another strange, difficult little attempt at a smile, at that.

//And it looks like you've... made a friend,// Jono noted. //She likes you.//

Or she just liked everybody, which also seemed like a strong possibility.

One way or the other, she liked him, and Hannibal wasn't giving her up any time soon. He nodded at the other boy in acknowledgment and thanks.

//You can keep holding her... for as long as you like,// Jono offered. //She seems... happy enough. She might... miss the other one... eventually, though.//

So she was a good loaner cat, but this kid would have to either give her up eventually or agree to collect the set. Jono didn't want to split up a pair.

Hannibal would never mind collecting the pair, so long as he had somewhere to keep them safe. He looked the question - the other one?

//She seemed fond of... the older cat,// Jono explained, shrugging. //He tolerated her... better'n me, at least.//

Seemed like a pair to him, anyway.

Hannibal thought about that.

"Where?"

If this wasn't a trap, another cat and a dry place to sleep would be good. If it was...well, he still had his knife.

//Back at the... house I woke up in,// Jono replied. //Th'big one. S'not far.//

In fairness, this town seemed small enough that nothing was terribly far from anything else, was it?

Hannibal nodded. If the other boy wanted to go to that house, he would follow, at least for a while. Or they could sit here with the ducks. He didn't mind that, either.

The park, Saturday morning

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