#hannibal: i dont wan t silver hol den

[ethicsbutcher]

❝ There’s something you’re not telling me. ❞ from holden 🖤

there they were again, those baby blue eyes trying to decipher the silhouette which stood behind the veil hannibal had so meticulously sewn. in the beginning it had been quite fun watching holden try to adapt his speech and mannerisms into something that lecter would find more appetising; they had been playing a game this whole time, one they were both well aware of but were cordial enough to never mention. yet, with each week that passed, the good doctor became more and more bitter.

his answers to the holden's questions were always recorded, which allowed his voice to travel long distances, to meet the touch and ears of several different people and to be used for whatever purposes holden and his flock found righteous that week. all of this happened while hannibal remained locked between four walls, unsure whether the agent would return next week, next month of next years. the good doctor slowly became greyer and paler while holden ford only grew bolder.

there's something you're not telling me.

the young man almost sounded hurt. ford's occasional earnestness was the closest thing to AN ACTUAL MEAL hannibal would have that day. " judas iscariot's betrayal cost only thirty pieces of silver . " he pointed out. the chains of his handcuffs scratched against the table. " you will not find a messiah within this cell , agent ford . all i can deliver to you is my integrity , " the corners of the inmate's lips curled into a small amused smile. " and i'm afraid silver just won't cut it . "