[The snake was good. So good. No one could see him for what he was, and he found Will in darkness. He promised to be his paddle, his gauge, someone he could rely on for anything. He came to his house early in the morning, later in the evening. He felt like he was overstepping, but Lecter had been nothing but kind. Will, believing he was meant to be lonely all his life, had begun to think of someone, someone in this great wide world as a friend. He'd called himself that to Will, right before he'd planted a seed in his head—if Will didn't quit or find out what was truly wrong with him (most likely some sort of mental illness, which was terrifying), he might black out one day and lose time, only to wake and find out that he hadn't hurt himself.
One day he would snap to and see a totem of his own bodies. So many people slaughtered because he hadn't stopped his work. And then, he'd been put away for the murders of many, many he'd be accused of eating, and then Abigail Hobbs. He had done what he stopped her father from doing, and been haunted by him ever since.
He was not mentally ill. He was sick, driven sicker, driven to doubt his sanity...faded, feeling crazy, and in that darkness? Hannibal Lecter had been there, making himself out to be the best guide. But when blinds were open and he had light to follow, cloth was wrapped around his eyes. Any hint of sun was taken from him by that man who offered himself as his support.
Oh no, the snake in his home was not easy to see. He couldn't see it until it was too late, and no one else ever would. Inside a cage, what could he do, other than puzzle it all out, find his memories, and eventually destroy Hannibal Lecter in every way, no matter what it took? Not matter if, in the end, Will held a gun to his head while Hannibal pressed himself over him, gut in his stomach, carving him up. He would have enough strength to pull the trigger, motivated by...everything negative.
In the end, Lecter would pay, even in the price was high for Will himself.]
I've paid steeper prices. [Abigail Hobbs' life is steeper than his reputation. They had secrets. No matter what it took, he'd keep them. He'd take them to his grave. Only Lecter would be the one to out her as the lure. As for silence? Who would believe Barty over this awkward dog guy? He's proven himself...untrustworthy, and not just to Will. The upside to it. The downside being that Will...couldn't really lie. Not easily.] What trust I can give is few and far between. I do not trust easily. My ability to trust may very well be at nonexistent levels now. No, I have no trust for Barty, but I've no trust for just about anyone else here. Not about the snake, not about what waits for me back home, not about the full extent of my job with the FBI.
[Teaching is one thing. Being a consultant in the way he is? Not happening. He can say he does his job in a unique way, but not really much else.]
Too poisonous for your own good. Ate you up inside? It happens more often than not.
[Will's not poisonous (really, but the poison in his body that has come from work and being around a snake too much is doing its own toll) and has no intentions of killing himself.
He has things to die before he can let himself die. That is, catching the snake that not only got away, but destroyed him and will continue so no matter what Will does. He could cry.
Get on his knees.
Beg.
Pray to him like God.
It would matter not one bit. Lecter is curious. What Will might plead for would be taken into account, he would believe, but if Lecter really wanted to do it, was curious enough?
no subject
One day he would snap to and see a totem of his own bodies. So many people slaughtered because he hadn't stopped his work. And then, he'd been put away for the murders of many, many he'd be accused of eating, and then Abigail Hobbs. He had done what he stopped her father from doing, and been haunted by him ever since.
He was not mentally ill. He was sick, driven sicker, driven to doubt his sanity...faded, feeling crazy, and in that darkness? Hannibal Lecter had been there, making himself out to be the best guide. But when blinds were open and he had light to follow, cloth was wrapped around his eyes. Any hint of sun was taken from him by that man who offered himself as his support.
Oh no, the snake in his home was not easy to see. He couldn't see it until it was too late, and no one else ever would. Inside a cage, what could he do, other than puzzle it all out, find his memories, and eventually destroy Hannibal Lecter in every way, no matter what it took? Not matter if, in the end, Will held a gun to his head while Hannibal pressed himself over him, gut in his stomach, carving him up. He would have enough strength to pull the trigger, motivated by...everything negative.
In the end, Lecter would pay, even in the price was high for Will himself.]
I've paid steeper prices. [Abigail Hobbs' life is steeper than his reputation. They had secrets. No matter what it took, he'd keep them. He'd take them to his grave. Only Lecter would be the one to out her as the lure. As for silence? Who would believe Barty over this awkward dog guy? He's proven himself...untrustworthy, and not just to Will. The upside to it. The downside being that Will...couldn't really lie. Not easily.] What trust I can give is few and far between. I do not trust easily. My ability to trust may very well be at nonexistent levels now. No, I have no trust for Barty, but I've no trust for just about anyone else here. Not about the snake, not about what waits for me back home, not about the full extent of my job with the FBI.
[Teaching is one thing. Being a consultant in the way he is? Not happening. He can say he does his job in a unique way, but not really much else.]
Too poisonous for your own good. Ate you up inside? It happens more often than not.
[Will's not poisonous (really, but the poison in his body that has come from work and being around a snake too much is doing its own toll) and has no intentions of killing himself.
He has things to die before he can let himself die. That is, catching the snake that not only got away, but destroyed him and will continue so no matter what Will does. He could cry.
Get on his knees.
Beg.
Pray to him like God.
It would matter not one bit. Lecter is curious. What Will might plead for would be taken into account, he would believe, but if Lecter really wanted to do it, was curious enough?
Will would be powerless to stop him.]