slightlyoffchilt | - IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

But then what about you? Once all of that is over, what happens to you? Where do you fall on his list? Obviously somewhere that he decides to give you a 'fate worse than death.' And what if he tries to do that here?

You need defenses. You need poisons. You need a gun. And maybe even a bomb. You need me.

I need you?

[The psychiatrist let that sizzle in the air, that willing acknowledgement of Walt's overt manipulation. Fear mongering, in a way; creating a desperation to swirl within Chilton's mind.]

Walt, while I do appreciate your concern, I am going to play my hand with caution. I'm not eager to court his disdain, and I have defenses. I have your poisons, I have a gun.

Do you not trust me to use them correctly?

It's not that. I just. I just want...

...you to rely on me. It's really all I...

[ Ever wanted went the unspoken. Walt couldn't finish the thought. It seemed a bit too honest, a bit too open.

Walt needed something that he felt he was protecting in order to feel worth anything. And he wanted that something to look to him for that protection for his ego as much as it was for his one final link to humanity. If Walter White was a savior of some kind, if he cared and had emotions -- then he couldn't truly be evil, could he? ]

You don't have to be proud right now, Chilton. If you're afraid, let me do something.

It would unwise for someone in my position not to be afraid of Hannibal Lecter.

[But Chilton's focus, hazy from the emotional chaos that Hannibal so easily wrought, started its journey to purify. Clarify. And that phrase cycled back, echoing in Chilton's mind, that phrase that Walt had uttered with such passion.

I will not let anyone touch my things.

His things. Of which Chilton was in collection. It seemed that, quite suddenly, the psychiatrist found himself in either doubled danger or ample opportunity -- depending on how deftly he could spin the situation.]

I do. Rely on you. I am doing so now, as we speak, I'm committing a willing engagement in codependency. But I also depend on you to trust my judgement when it comes to Lecter. He will target Will Graham and those most associated with him.

And I have already discontinued my sessions with Graham.

[ It appeased him to hear those words. More than that, it lifted the tightness away from his chest -- the tightness of anxiety, of imagining Chilton doing this all on his own and failing. The anxiety of watching Gus take Jesse away from him the way Hannibal may be able to take Chilton. The fear of losing Chilton -- to death or worse. ]

I do trust you. He's your enemy. He's from your world. You know him best. But you have more at your disposal than you had back home. And that's what I want you to understand.

[ He might have elaborated except then he heard the most delightful news of all. ]

It's for the best. You don't want to be dragged down alongside him. This will protect you in the long run. It was a great tactic, Chilton.

[ And it freed up Chilton's Saturdays now, Walt wanted to say -- but refrained. It was a little too self-celebratory, but hell. He was thinking it. ]

[Walt's approval was, oddly, reassuring. As much as Chilton loved to parade the veneer of superiority and aloof observation, he was fundamentally concerned about how those important individuals perceived him. This particular opinion mattered, and Chilton glowed with the relief of an acknowledged tactic well played.

His over-investment was perhaps only magnified by the disarming threat that Hannibal immediately proved.]

See -- I have bought myself some time. Any further disruption will surely be noticed by Lecter, and it would not behoove my agenda if he thought it necessary to intervene.

Alright, alright. Fine. I get the picture. No moving against him on your behalf.

I'll agree unless you're threatened. If you get threatened in any way, I will kill him. Is that agreeable?

I would love to know your detailed plan to commit homicide against Hannibal Lecter.

That really depends on his infraction. Whether it's quick and painless or drawn out and torturous.

[A quiet few beats followed.]

Freddie Lounds had informed me once that I was shot, while detained in police custody. A head shot. By Hannibal's own account, I must survive the experience to write a book on his psychosis.

Assuming he is not lying.

Imagine what state I am in, Walt. The state I will be in. Just imagine.

[ Walt is imagining it and it's not pretty. But if Chilton is in a state where he can write a book, there must not have been any lasting brain damage. ]

And even though you know this now, there's nothing you can do to prevent it.

[ His breath hitched -- half full of emotion and half trying to suppress that emotion. Anger, mostly. But there was concern for Chilton's well being as well. ]

At least. At least the damage is superficial. Physical. Your mind is in tact. At least you still have your mind.

But. I think turnabout is fair play. I'd see if Hannibal can survive a shot to the head, if I was in your shoes.

I would much rather have Hannibal behind a thick, plexiglass wall quite honestly. He would make for a fascinating specimen.

[And Chilton was only encouraged, knowing that he had that same pulse of logic back home.]

But in the meanwhile, no, I do not think that a direct attack is the most effective. Drawing his attention seems frantically hubristic.

[Even for Chilton.]

Take my advice and steer clear. I do not want you inflaming his attention.

So what's to stop you from having him right where you want him? What's to stop you from doing anything? You're not in your home world anymore, Chilton. This place? This is your world. Look at how far you've come, all your successes.

Hannibal Lecter doesn't mean a damn thing here. So get him locked up. Observe him like he's on display in a zoo. Get all the revenge here and now for the things he puts you through back home in your future.

I am not -- certain. [A beat. Chilton's insecurities, his fallen aspirations and his slicked back envy, bubbled from the recesses of his narcissistic mind. What he exposed before Walt, right now, was weakness.]

I am not certain that I can, without assistance. From Will Graham.

[Chilton was intimidated. He knew that Will had something of extraordinary status with Lecter, and he knew that he himself lacked that. Such had been made abundantly clear.

He had more to lose.]

[ Why the hell does it always boil down to Will Graham? ]

You don't. You don't need him. Stop relying on him as a crutch to do what you should be able to do on your own. Whether it's in regards to this situation or anything really.

I believe in your maneuvering, Chilton.

My maneuvering. [Chilton tasted the word, considering it.] You make it sound so innocuous. [Wryly:] Like putting a little English on the ball.

[There's a hollow quiet on his end, an unnerving silence as he examines Walt's faith in him. Ironic, of course, coming from Walt of all people. As if encouraging Chilton's manipulative tendencies didn't speak to some greater qualm between them.]

I want to watch what happens first. The match has only just struck, and Hannibal will go after poor Will. My maneuvering depends on those observations.

Right. So we watch and wait.

[ Suddenly it had become a we. Suddenly, Walt had involvement in this. ]

But if something happens, if you get hurt. I make no promises that I'll hold back. You are mine.

[ Possession inherent. Emphasis on who Chilton belonged to. But after a moment, his tone turned a bit gentle. ]

Do you need company? I can stop by your office.

[The degree of heat in possession gave him pause -- but it wasn't something that Chilton thought too deeply about, given the concern that Hannibal posed. That sharp, immediate concern.]

I'm sure I can manage, Walt. This isn't to say I don't appreciate your involvement -- I do, sincerely. [Another beat.] Remarkable. How tragedy -- or the threat of tragedy -- can bring people together.

[ Walt was a little disappointed when Chilton refused his offer to come to him, and the weight of his pause was indicative of that. ]

This doesn't end as a tragedy, though. The story is going to be different this time. This time, we both accomplish the things we want -- and nothing stands in our way.

Definitely not some weird cannibal from your home world at least.

I'm glad that you called. There was a time -- [Well. No one had called after Gideon disemboweled him, had they? No one had visited. No one would, when he was shot in the face by a brainwashed Miriam Lass.]

... Anyway. I am comforted by the fact.

It was the least I could do.

[ And it felt like the least he was allowed to do. Sitting and waiting wasn't a strategy Walt enjoyed employing. ]

I'll send you a fruit basket or something.

A fruit basket. Because I'm vegan, or are you insinuating something else?

What is there to insinuate?

[ When Walt pretty much knew the truth -- would have been the next part of that statement. ]

[There's a beat on Chilton's end -- the moment spent sulking, of course.]

You better include papaya.

Are you normally this demanding with your gifts? Or is this just the special treatment I get for buying you a lot of things?

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