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tryan-a-bex · 1 year

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Halloween; or, Violence, seen from far away, is entertaining

Inspired by a comment by Moreta (ao3), @entropy-mephit, who also did the art! My version and hers are included below. Hers is the fancy one! (Read on ao3.)

Hob watched over Dream’s shoulder as he scrolled through Pinterest posts of Halloween costumes.

“Hob, I do not want to do this. Why may I not just go as myself?” he grumbled.

“No! Love! The point of a Halloween party is to get dressed up and admire each other’s costumes! Don’t worry, the faculty has a huge range of investment is costuming. Some will go all out, especially the arts profs, but plenty of us are going to keep it simpler. What do you think of that pirate costume?”

“What if I go like this?” Dream suggested, suddenly two feet taller and dripping shadows everywhere. Hob cupped his pale, amorphous cheek tenderly in his hand.

“You know I love your Nightmare form, but I think it would be a little over the top for the party.” Hob blinked and Dream was back in his accustomed form, pointing at another picture.

“This one has cat ears, and a tail.” Hob’s lap was abruptly full of a large, black Maine Coon cat.

“Silly duck! Even the non-physicists would have questions about your change in mass!”

“I want to support you in your work social functions, but this is ridiculous!” Hob sighed.

“Anya is coming over soon for babysitting, so why don’t we put it away for now? We can revisit it later, and maybe we’ll think of something in the meantime.”

“Yes, I will go and return when my duties are complete. Maybe I will find something in a dream that will work.” Dream sounded doubtful, but he still gave Hob a tender goodbye kiss before disappearing to his realm.

Hob sighed and went downstairs to greet Yor and Anya. The New Inn has been rented out for a birthday party, so he was going to babysit Anya upstairs at his place for the first time.

“Yor! Anya! Come on upstairs!” he greeted them when they arrived.

“Anya gets to see Hob’s flat!” Anya exclaimed with wonder in her voice.

“I’m sure it won’t be that exciting!” he chuckled, opening the door. Yor entered first, and he saw how thoroughly she inspected the room, while looking as though she was just glancing around. It must have passed muster, because she turned to Anya and gave her a hug.

“Have fun with Hob, Anya!” she said, leaving her with a smile and a little nod at Hob. Hob nodded back, smiling as he squatted to Anya’s level.

“Would you like to play Spy again today?” he asked. Spy was Anya’s favourite make-believe game.

“Today, Anya is an explorer! Anya wants to explore Hob’s flat!”

“Uhhh…” Hob had tidied up, of course, and child-proofed the most dangerous things (the cleaning fluids were on a high shelf in the closet instead of on the floor beside the toilet, for example), but he was sure a determined child like Anya could find something to get into. He’d have to watch her like a hawk!

“TV. Anya has a tv,” Anya began, walking around the living room. She passed the couch to stare at the bookshelves against the wall.

“Hob has a lot of books,” she declared.

“Um, yeah,” he agreed. “Some of them are quite old. Would you like to look at a book?” he hoped she would be amenable to letting him guide the choice of book. Some of his first editions weren’t really in condition for casual handling.

“What is that?” Anya pointed at the top shelf, way in the corner. Ah. Hob had gotten out his old plague doctor mask from storage, back in 2020. He hadn’t been able to help as much this time as in the past, due to licensing requirements for health care providers, but he had covered a few in-person lectures for his immunocompromised colleagues before admin got on board with the quarantine, and he’d handed out masks in the Tube before they they were required.

“Take this, it’ll save your life, mate.” It was a surreal time.

Hob handed the mask down to Anya, remembering the first time he had put it on. He’d survived the plague the first time, when most of his family died. He’d survived it again in the early 1500’s, while he was building his fortune. It had been easier that time, because the plague was always kinder to the rich than the poor. It was in 1665, while he was recovering from grief and from being drowned, that he donned the mask. If he wasn’t going to die, Hob had realized, there were so many lives he could save. Basic battlefield first aid got him started—give thirsty people water to drink. Put a blanket on them if they were chilled. Give them a damp rag if they were feverish. Clean their bodies as much as possible. So many people still died, but maybe not quite as many. Hob was grateful for each one who had recovered.

“Hob did not die for a long time,” Anya came out with, looking quizzically at him with the mask in her hands. Oh, shit. He hadn’t meant to give away that secret; he’d forgotten she was a telepath in the rush of memories. He looked her steadily in the eyes.

“Your papa has a secret, and your mama has a secret.” Anya had told him so the first time she met Dream. She hadn’t told him what the secret was, but Hob could guess, based on how extremely competent and dangerous her parents were.

“You have a secret,” she nodded in agreement, a serious look on her little face, “and I have a secret too,” Hob finished.

“Dream has a secret too,” Anya pointed out. “Franky and Uncle Yuri also.” Hob just nodded. He so did not want to open that can of worms!

“Time to explore again!” Anya suddenly announced, putting the plague mask down on the coffee table. She headed down the hall, Hob darting after her with, he had to admit, some trepidation in his heart. He hadn’t really planned on her seeing the bedroom. He’d better check it first, before she poked her nose in.

Hob stuck his nose in the bedroom, seeing with relief that it was fairly tidy and didn’t have any child-unfriendly things lying around. He turned to try to head her off anyway, only to see that it was already too late. Instead of aiming for the bedroom, she had opened the hall closet where he’d stuffed his dangerous items, and there she was, holding the hilt of his great sword, which was taller than she was. Hob winced and gently took it from her.

“How about we go explore in the park?” He suggested, determinedly turning his thoughts away from all the people he’d killed with that sword, and the times he’d nearly been killed himself, as he stowed it away again.

“Yes! Anya wants to explore the park!” She grabbed his hand enthusiastically, barely slowing down to put her shoes on as they headed outside.

Hob made sure she stopped to check for traffic before crossing the road, then sauntered after her as she dashed through the park, weaving around the few people who were also out enjoying it. She came to a halt as she spotted a raven in the grass, and crouched low to approach it, a crafty expression on her face. Ah, playing Spy again, Hob thought. The raven hopped toward the tree, then suddenly took off to caw at her from its branches.

“Anya is an explorer!” Anya proclaimed to the red-haired man sitting against the base of the tree.

“I’m a bit of an explorer too,” he confessed, patting his little bundle, which was tied to a stick like an old time hobo. Hob felt strangely at ease with him, even though he couldn’t have said why he felt familiar. Perhaps they’d met before.

“You have a secret too,” Anya disclosed. The man raised his eyebrows, glancing at Hob.

“Ah, Anya, most people do have secrets, you know. It’s generally not polite to ask about them, unless you really need to know, or if someone is not safe. In that case you should really tell a grown up…” Hob trailed off as he realized the other two were ignoring him. The stranger was being submitted to Anya’s piercing gaze, the one where it seemed she could read your soul. She didn’t break the gaze first, he did.

“You should probably ask my brother if you want to know my secrets, Hob. We have met, you know. It was very long ago. In fact, it was your memories today which drew me here.”

“You’re not the one he calls the Prodigal, are you?” Hob wondered, making connections in his head. Dream had a lot of siblings, and they were all remarkable. The man smiled brilliantly.

“I am! You can call me Joe.”

“It’s nice to meet….” Hob started, but Anya was interrupting, grabbing Joe’s hand.

“Anya wants a story! Tell me about exploring!” she demanded. Joe nodded.

“Well, there was this one day I was wandering with my dog, Barnabas,” he began.

“Anya knows Barnabas! He came here before!” Anya interrupted.

“Did he? That’s nice! So, Barnabas and I…” Hob settled in for a good story, hoping it would last until Yor returned.

Later that day, having said goodbye to Joe, Anya and Yor, Hob trudged up to his flat and flopped on the couch. His eyes fell on the plague mask, still sitting on the coffee table, and he was stuck by inspiration. Just then, Dream appeared.

“Hello, Hob,” he smiled as Hob moved to give him room on the couch.

“I met your brother today!” Hob revealed, “and I think I know what to do for your Halloween costume!”

Two weeks later, Hob and Dream were standing outside the faculty Halloween party. Hob had recreated his plague doctor outfit, and Dream was wearing his helm and robe, toned-down a bit on Hob’s advice. Dream was having second thoughts.

“Don’t worry, Duck, it will be fine,” Hob reassured him, taking him by the hand and drawing him gently into the party room. Five minutes later, they were at the refreshments table when an elaborate Big Ben Hob didn’t know came up to them.

“Excellent plague doctor mask!” she enthused. “It looks so authentic!”

“Thank you!” Hob answered, loving how willing people were to see what they expected to see.

“And you!” she turned excitedly to Dream, “I love your mask! Where did you get it?”

“I created it from the skull and spine of my enemy, who I crushed with my own hands,” Dream intoned in his most ominous voice.

“Brilliant! Great backstory! I love how you commit to the bit!” she gushed.

“Hob?” Dream whined.

“Don’t worry, love, you’re doing excellently,” Hob consoled him as they walked further into the party, once again holding hands.

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