[Perhaps she just needed the extra income; why would Hannibal divulge that information so soon?
Hannibal was an exception to a great number of rules. When one followed the evidence—the evidence he left and let them follow, of course—it was indisputable that Hannibal was "safe." He had medical training of the body and the mind, he was a damn fine chef, he had no instances of causing trouble with the law or anything to taint his record, with the law or otherwise. He'd earned titles and respect, and unless someone was named Will Graham, there wasn't any reason not to trust him. It didn't have to be a game of power (though Hannibal was certain of Chilton's issues with power in any way, shape, or for). It could, in fact, be friendship and nothing more.
Or so he'd make one believe. He'd let Chilton get close (or, what Chilton would think of as close), he'd be an ear to chew on and a shoulder to lean on, and the man would never know just who (or, perhaps more accurately, what) he was letting into his life.
Poor Frederick. Poor, misguided, scarred Frederick. In a time of need, Hannibal presenting himself was someone to be taken on without hesitation. He knew as much, why else would he offer himself?]
I must confess, after the instance with Tobias Budge—the killer of the symphony player—I briefly considered retiring myself. With Will Graham, the idea has come back. [Bullshit, not that anyone can tell.] But you are not retiring, are you? You've had much worse. If you can have the courage to go back to your work, I do not see how I could have any excuse to quit mine. It's very inspiring.
[So inspiring, truly, that Hannibal doesn't have a better word for it.]
You disregard what help you've done for other people, Frederick.
no subject
[Perhaps she just needed the extra income; why would Hannibal divulge that information so soon?
Hannibal was an exception to a great number of rules. When one followed the evidence—the evidence he left and let them follow, of course—it was indisputable that Hannibal was "safe." He had medical training of the body and the mind, he was a damn fine chef, he had no instances of causing trouble with the law or anything to taint his record, with the law or otherwise. He'd earned titles and respect, and unless someone was named Will Graham, there wasn't any reason not to trust him. It didn't have to be a game of power (though Hannibal was certain of Chilton's issues with power in any way, shape, or for). It could, in fact, be friendship and nothing more.
Or so he'd make one believe. He'd let Chilton get close (or, what Chilton would think of as close), he'd be an ear to chew on and a shoulder to lean on, and the man would never know just who (or, perhaps more accurately, what) he was letting into his life.
Poor Frederick. Poor, misguided, scarred Frederick. In a time of need, Hannibal presenting himself was someone to be taken on without hesitation. He knew as much, why else would he offer himself?]
I must confess, after the instance with Tobias Budge—the killer of the symphony player—I briefly considered retiring myself. With Will Graham, the idea has come back. [Bullshit, not that anyone can tell.] But you are not retiring, are you? You've had much worse. If you can have the courage to go back to your work, I do not see how I could have any excuse to quit mine. It's very inspiring.
[So inspiring, truly, that Hannibal doesn't have a better word for it.]
You disregard what help you've done for other people, Frederick.