Will's eyes dart over to Rust when movement starts back up again. He'd started to sink into the silence, the stillness, had begun tunneling so far back into the regret encased in his own head that he nearly forgot where he was.
There's the fear from missing a step on a staircase when Will thinks that it reminds him of his missing time from when he was sick. From when Dr. Lecter had gone ahead and let him grow his encephalitis for his own amusement.
Will remembers convincing Chilton to use hypnotherapy to help him recall what Dr. Lecter had done, remembers the times when he'd been docile but terrified and incapacitated around Lecter and he'd been able to drug him, manipulate him, try to condition him to be even more like himself.
And apparently during all that, their Marks had just been burning deeper into their skins--
Will jumps up out of the chair so suddenly he knocks it over. He barely registers what he hears, looks back and stammers something like an apology as he shakily removes the towel from his shoulders. He drops the towel over the tipped-back chair, unsure where else to put it but suddenly not wanting anyone else's things touching him.
Will paces away from Rust and his cigarette, then decides he doesn't like the idea of being in a kitchen, even if it's nothing like the sleek metal planning of Hannibal's. He slingshots back to the carpet, aggravatedly pacing back and forth in front of the far wall, hands rubbing at his face and then his arms. He feels cold and wet from the rain all at once, but he knows the shivering is from his own head.
"He must." It's the realization that sent Will out of the chair, that nearly clenched his stomach hard enough to heave. The whiskey burns, his cheeks warm even as his fingers grow cold with dread. "That's-- he-- drugged me. While I wouldn't remember it. I remember him--" Will grimaces, laughs so bitterly he's surprised rust doesn't flake from his lips. He grabs his inner elbow, tapping where the veins are. "Rolling my sleeve up to get at it. He must've...seen it then. He's known since fucking before I got arrested, fucking dammit."
Will thought it was just Hannibal's smugness that let him show Will, intending to bait him and watch Will squirm as always.
No, another calculated plan to lay more self-doubt across Will's healed mind.
no subject
There's the fear from missing a step on a staircase when Will thinks that it reminds him of his missing time from when he was sick. From when Dr. Lecter had gone ahead and let him grow his encephalitis for his own amusement.
Will remembers convincing Chilton to use hypnotherapy to help him recall what Dr. Lecter had done, remembers the times when he'd been docile but terrified and incapacitated around Lecter and he'd been able to drug him, manipulate him, try to condition him to be even more like himself.
And apparently during all that, their Marks had just been burning deeper into their skins--
Will jumps up out of the chair so suddenly he knocks it over. He barely registers what he hears, looks back and stammers something like an apology as he shakily removes the towel from his shoulders. He drops the towel over the tipped-back chair, unsure where else to put it but suddenly not wanting anyone else's things touching him.
Will paces away from Rust and his cigarette, then decides he doesn't like the idea of being in a kitchen, even if it's nothing like the sleek metal planning of Hannibal's. He slingshots back to the carpet, aggravatedly pacing back and forth in front of the far wall, hands rubbing at his face and then his arms. He feels cold and wet from the rain all at once, but he knows the shivering is from his own head.
"He must." It's the realization that sent Will out of the chair, that nearly clenched his stomach hard enough to heave. The whiskey burns, his cheeks warm even as his fingers grow cold with dread. "That's-- he-- drugged me. While I wouldn't remember it. I remember him--" Will grimaces, laughs so bitterly he's surprised rust doesn't flake from his lips. He grabs his inner elbow, tapping where the veins are. "Rolling my sleeve up to get at it. He must've...seen it then. He's known since fucking before I got arrested, fucking dammit."
Will thought it was just Hannibal's smugness that let him show Will, intending to bait him and watch Will squirm as always.
No, another calculated plan to lay more self-doubt across Will's healed mind.