[His lips pressed tightly together. Walt, by his desk, touching one of his pens without request. Chilton's controlling impulse resonated beyond the influence of people; he was a man who liked to dominate his environment, and Walt was going to remain a combustible variable regardless. Even in this small, insignificant way.
Chilton took the glass returned to him only begrudgingly.]
As many sessions as we deem necessary.
[The psychiatrist graciously chose the plural we. His intent manifested differently, of course, because while the money was a delight (Chilton habitually indulged himself with status symbols), the true trophy offered was Walter White himself. And now that Walt had committed himself to this unorthodox solution (a motel! Scandalous!) Chilton felt vindicated. Perhaps the whole exhibition of Walt dangling himself like so was simply to ensure those aforementioned loopholes: no medication, no public knowledge that Walt was indeed a patient of Chilton's. As much as "doctor-patient confidentiality" was a thing, Chilton's sharp tongue was often a loose one. Will Graham had long ago called him out on his inappropriate gossiping.
But he couldn't do that with Walter White, not if Chilton wanted to avoid Hank. His own skin was tied into the game.]
I've been wondering about that -- your hat, I mean. I have all the items collected, and the predictable burner phone and gun were unremarkable for a man of your... Tendency. But the hat? [Chilton played with the glass in his hand.] In the context of our meeting, when you clearly had ill intent, that hat was a signifier. An identity marker. Is that part of who you are, Walt, or part of what you wish to be?
no subject
Chilton took the glass returned to him only begrudgingly.]
As many sessions as we deem necessary.
[The psychiatrist graciously chose the plural we. His intent manifested differently, of course, because while the money was a delight (Chilton habitually indulged himself with status symbols), the true trophy offered was Walter White himself. And now that Walt had committed himself to this unorthodox solution (a motel! Scandalous!) Chilton felt vindicated. Perhaps the whole exhibition of Walt dangling himself like so was simply to ensure those aforementioned loopholes: no medication, no public knowledge that Walt was indeed a patient of Chilton's. As much as "doctor-patient confidentiality" was a thing, Chilton's sharp tongue was often a loose one. Will Graham had long ago called him out on his inappropriate gossiping.
But he couldn't do that with Walter White, not if Chilton wanted to avoid Hank. His own skin was tied into the game.]
I've been wondering about that -- your hat, I mean. I have all the items collected, and the predictable burner phone and gun were unremarkable for a man of your... Tendency. But the hat? [Chilton played with the glass in his hand.] In the context of our meeting, when you clearly had ill intent, that hat was a signifier. An identity marker. Is that part of who you are, Walt, or part of what you wish to be?