37. Bloodlines

It was official, for however long he continued to stay at this apartment, Hannibal was never going to have a night alone to himself. 9 o' clock and just when he thought all was well, he heard somebody knocking on his door. As he got up to answer it, he grumbled to himself about being glad that he was going to be moving soon, at least then if somebody wanted him they could just yell down the hall instead of come banging on his door all the time.

"What is it?" he asked as he opened the door, and a second after he said that, he thought he was going to have a heart attack.

Because Jean had a tendency to get into matters that didn't involve her, or without thinking to bring backup, she was often quite a mess to see, more times than he could count she'd been a mess of blood and bruises, but this just took the cake. Jean stood in his doorway, trying to manage a small, weak smile, as she stood there covered in blood pretty much from head to toe, especially on her face, and all down her jeans.

"Hi Hannibal," she said in a low voice, "Can I come in?"

"Jean!" Hannibal threw the door open, "What the hell happened to you? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she managed a small nod, then repeated, "Can I come in? I'll try not to bleed on your carpet."

Hannibal didn't get it. He let her in and looked her up and down as she stepped into the light where he could see her better. She was covered in blood but none of it seemed to be coming from her.

"What happened to you?" he asked again.

"I got into a little fight," she said, "And I would appreciate it if you wouldn't tell Murdock about this."

"You mean he doesn't know!?" Hannibal asked.

"No, he's off with Dr. Richter, he volunteered to help take the patients on a field trip to…I don't know, some lake Murdock was talking about," Jean said, "This happened at a bar."

"Are you alright?"

"Oh yeah…most of this is…" Jean looked down and saw just how covered she was and she cringed, "Most of this was movie blood for show, but some of the squibs didn't stay in the right place, uh…" she looked up at him and asked, "Would you mind if I commandeered your shower? This stuff was disgusting to wear for the walk home when it was wet, but now it's starting to dry and it's really getting uncomfortable."

"Sure Jean, but I expect an explanation when you get out."

"Yes sir," Jean mockingly saluted as she headed towards the bathroom.

Hannibal watched the clock. He could imagine that it would take a while to wash off half dried prop blood but still, Jean's shower was going on the better part of an hour, and he remembered she said 'most' of the blood was fake, meaning part of it was still real. He put his ear against the door and only heard the water running. He knocked on the door but heard no response. He slowly opened the door and looked in, aside from the water gushing out of the shower head there was no movement in the room.

"Jean, you alright?" he called in.

For a few seconds there was nothing, then there was movement from behind the shower curtain and it suggested to Hannibal that Jean had been sitting on the floor of the tub and pulled herself to her feet. She pulled back the curtain enough to stick her head out and she told him, "I don't think this stuff's going to come out of the rags…I've scrubbed over three times and I still have part of it on me."

Hannibal picked up a towel and handed it to her and said, "They make that stuff to look realistic, unfortunately that also means it's going to last a while."

Jean exited the shower a minute later wrapped in the towel and Hannibal could still see dark pink marks on her shoulder and arm, like a big birthmark.

"What do they make that stuff out of?" she asked.

"Well I'm not sure about the squibs themselves, but I know when they coat people in blood for really violent scenes to make it look real, it's made out of red and blue food dye and caramel syrup."

"Why is so much junk food usable for blood and guts in movies?" Jean asked.

"Good question, kid," Hannibal replied, "I put some clothes out for you in the bedroom, I'll get this cleaned up in here."

Jean nodded and left the bathroom. Hannibal pulled back the curtain and saw half a dozen rags on the floor and side of the tub covered in red. He turned the water back on and wrung the rags out and watched the fake blood wash down the drain in a swirl of pink water. But then he picked up one and saw that it wasn't like the others. There was more than just streaks of red on the terrycloth rag, he unfolded it and saw black and red clots of blood as well, these weren't something special effects came up with, this was real. He headed out of the bathroom and saw Jean sitting on the couch dressed and sitting hunched over with her arms brought up over her head and covering her face as one foot shook continually giving her whole leg a thumping movement.

"Jean, what happened tonight?" Hannibal asked.

She stopped thumping her foot and slowly lowered her arms and told him again, "Don't tell Murdock about this."

Boy the more time went on the more Hannibal was starting to feel like a priest, anymore everything somebody said was supposed to be in his utmost confidence.

"I won't tell him," Hannibal told her, "If I don't think it's something he needs to know."

Jean shook her head and kept her gaze to the floor, "He doesn't. I didn't lie, I was in a bar fight…"

"I'm listening," Hannibal said as he moved towards her.

"I didn't go into the place to get drunk," she told him.

"Well nobody's blaming you if you did, that's why they're there," Hannibal said.

"I stopped in and got a coke," Jean said, "I was getting ready to come home for the night, but while I'm in there, these morons come in and start making trouble."

"With you?" Hannibal asked.

"Nobody makes trouble with me," Jean said, "They were harassing some other woman who wasn't interested, but they didn't believe in taking no for an answer. So I got in their faces and warned them to leave, they thought it was hysterical, so…I got violent with them."

"Uh huh," Hannibal said, unfazed by this revelation.

"At first it was just a regular barroom fight, you know, break a bottle over one guy's head, break a stool over another's, slam another one into the jukebox, it's all good…but they were persistent, and I left the bar, went to the car, got the squibs out, figured if this was going to be a grand melee, there was going to be plenty to see. I put them in place, went back in, and it was on…five to one ain't a lot of fun, I took down two of them pretty easily, but then the others got me, the fight moved outside, and I was knocked out."

She stopped, and Hannibal didn't push, he knew that there was more to it and he was going to let her explain it at her own pace.

"For a while I was going in and out of consciousness and I could feel something wet…at first I thought it was just the squibs and then I realized it was too much to just be that…when I came to I realized I'd been busted in the nose and that's where the blood came from. I don't know how long I was lying there, but I finally got up, heard those idiots nearby laughing, and I just went over and beat the hell out of them, managed to bust one of them in the nose as well, that's also where some of the blood came from. It took a while but they finally took the hint and left, I'm sure by the time it was over we all looked like we could've been casualties in a war movie."

Hannibal chuckled and replied, "Well, I'm sure you left a lasting impression on all of them."

"Oh I'd say that's a safe bet," she said, "Anyway, after that I just decided I'd walk back, but instead I wound up coming here."

"But you're sure you're alright?" Hannibal asked.

"Yeah…" she touched her nose and said, "I had a couple more nosebleeds between there and here, and another in the shower, but at least it wasn't broken."

"True," he said, "But were you injured anywhere else that is worth noting?"

"Not really, just some bruises and stuff like that," Jean replied, "I'll be fine."

"But how're you going to explain that to Murdock?" Hannibal asked.

"Well, some of them aren't in any places he's going to see," Jean pointed out, "And others…I can always say that I got roughed up on the job, I've been going back to stunts for extra work so it's definitely possible."

Hannibal nodded in agreement and said, "I can imagine how scared you must've been."

Jean shook her head, "I wasn't scared, drunken idiots don't scare me, just mad as hell…"

"I can understand that too," Hannibal told her.

Jean moved to get up and stopped in mid-step and got a pained look on her face and sat back down.

"What's the matter?" Hannibal asked.

"It's nothing," Jean said over a groan and a pained grimace.

"Come on, Jean, what's wrong?" Hannibal asked as he got up and moved towards her.

"I hurt my ribs during the fight, but I don't think it's anything serious," she said.

"Just painful," he responded, and ran a hand down her back and ribs, and watched where she responded to the touch. "I know you don't want to hear this kid but I think I'm going to have to take a look at you."

"You're right, I don't want to hear it," Jean said.

"You think you can make it to the bedroom?" Hannibal asked, "I can examine you better in there."

Jean forced herself to her feet and started walking, "Yeah, I'll make it."

Hannibal turned on the overhead lights and had Jean stand by the bed and hold still as he pulled the back of her shirt up and took a look at her.

"You've got some bruises from your shoulder blade down to the back of your ribs, does this hurt?"

Jean held still but let out a choked gasp and told him, "YES that hurts! What the hell do you think?"

"Alright, alright, take it easy," Hannibal said, "I've still got some of that blue heat gunk that the doctor left after your last examination."

With a little difficulty, Jean took her shirt off so Hannibal would have room to work, and held it against her chest as she waited. She did alright until he actually started to apply the gel to her back and then her whole body flinched forward and she said at the top of her lungs, "How can your hands be so cold when you keep them in gloves all day!?"

"Sorry," Hannibal replied, not really sounding it, "Give me a minute, I'll warm this stuff up."

Jean heard him laughing behind her and without turning around she demanded to know, "What the hell's so funny?"

"I was just remembering the time you let the MPs turn you into tenderized hamburger," he said.

"What about it?" she asked.

"You threw such a fit when I tried to examine you, I had to feel your ribs through your shirt."

"With your gloves on as I recall," Jean added.

"And when we knocked you out to examine you," he laughed, "You were a regular hellcat then when you woke up and found out."

Jean felt half a smile forming and she told him, "I didn't trust you then, I wasn't sure that I could."

"I know," Hannibal replied as he grew somber again, "You've grown up a lot since then…you've come a long way, kid, I'm proud of you."

She felt the other half of that smile starting to merge with the first half and she told him without turning around to face him, "Thanks, Hannibal."

"Okay, we'll try this again," he told her, and reapplied the medicated gel on her bruises.

Jean managed to hold still but still flinched as she felt the stuff touching her where it was hurting her to breathe. Then she felt her spine go stiff when she felt the strap of her bra being pushed down her shoulder. "Hey!"

"Sorry, kid," Hannibal said, "Gotta get this spot too…when you go all out in a fight you really go all out, don't you?"

Jean groaned as he touched that particular bruise and replied, "I think that was when I got slammed against the bar, but I'm not sure." She fidgeted and added, "But don't tell Murdock, he doesn't need to know about this, he'd just worry."

Hannibal chuckled to himself, her words almost perfectly mirrored Murdock's from a few days ago.

"Don't worry, Jean," he told her, "Your secret's safe with me. So…how bad were the others by the time the fight broke up?"

"Well," she said, "I think the final count was 2 busted noses, 5 busted ribs, 3 missing teeth, and…oh, two large broken toes."

Hannibal shrugged and said, "Well all in all it sounds like a good night's work."

Jean got out a couple of short laughs before she hissed in a breath of air and told him, "Don't make me laugh, Hannibal."

"Alright, you can put your shirt back on now," he told her.

"About time," she groaned.

"So," he asked her as she got dressed again, "What're your plans now?"

She shrugged, "I don't know, why?"

Hannibal consulted his watch and told her, "It's late, you left your car back at the bar…and Murdock's out of town for the weekend, why don't you stay here for the night? Then we'll swing by the bar tomorrow and you can pick up your car then."

Jean shook her head, "Oh no, thanks but, I don't want to put you out."

"Too late," he told her.

Jean shrugged and replied, "Alright…"

Hannibal had had a lot of rude wakeup calls in his time; bugles in the Army, or sometimes shells dropping, gunfire, people screaming, and back in civilization things like garbage men who came by at 4 in the morning, or traffic that sounded like every car in the street below dropped its muffler, and on occasion Murdock yelling as he leapt with both feet into his latest psychosis or persona. That morning he woke up when he could hear Jean moaning and whining next to him in the bed.

He found the bedside lamp and turned it on to see what was the matter and saw her side of the bed was covered in blood and so were her pajamas. Apparently they'd both had a rude wakeup call this morning; she'd had another nosebleed in the night and only woke up in time to notice it was already half dried, and then it started up all over again. After several Kleenex and five minutes of pinching the bridge of her nose to stop the bleeding, Hannibal had her go in the bathroom and get cleaned up while he changed the sheets. Once that was done, he went into the bathroom where Jean had finished changing her clothes and he dug around in the medicine cabinet until he found a jar of petroleum jelly and told her, "Put some of that up your nose, that ought to help stop it from happening again."

"What makes you so sure of that?" she asked.

"I got into a lot of fights as a kid," he said simply.

"Is that why your nose looks like that?" she asked coyly.

"Ha-ha," he remarked.

"Hmm," Jean scratched the top of her head.

"What?" Hannibal asked.

"Just wondering, do you think that's why Decker's nose is so big?" she asked him.

Hannibal laughed and told her, "I hadn't noticed."

"Hadn't noticed?" Jean repeated, "Hannibal, the man looks like he caught a doorknob with his face, hadn't noticed!"

Hannibal laughed so hard from her little outburst that he couldn't breathe. The phone in the living room rang and he went to answer it.

"Hello? …Murdock!" he said as he looked to Jean, "How's Crystal Lake? Uh-huh…well that sounds great…oh she's here…yeah I guess you could say we've just been having a swell time here." He caught the amused look Jean gave him. "Uh-huh…okay, have fun with the doc, okay, bye-bye."

Jean folded her arms tightly against her and walked over to Hannibal with large, slow steps and she told him, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not telling him the truth," she said.

"What?" Hannibal asked, feigning innocence, "We're not having a good time here?"

Jean laughed and told him, "You've got a warped idea of fun."

"One of my more endearing qualities," he replied.