[Hannibal wastes no time from the moment he sees that shrug, turning to lip Will's mattress and pushing it back, letting it fall behind the bed. He examines it quickly, touching plans and poles, feeling for weak joints. Impossible to get away with in a monitored cell: guards would already be at the door. But here, the guards are not trained, and rarely watchful.]
Desperate times.
[He repeats the quip as he rises from his crouch. A moment later, he slams his foot down against a joint. Once, twice, he kicks it four times before it breaks free. When it does, he looks over his shoulder to find Will staring out at the mirrors, breathing in the same thing he's been breathing for hours in his sleep. Hannibal smiles.]
Wrap a sweater around your hand, and break one of the mirrors.
spam
Desperate times.
[He repeats the quip as he rises from his crouch. A moment later, he slams his foot down against a joint. Once, twice, he kicks it four times before it breaks free. When it does, he looks over his shoulder to find Will staring out at the mirrors, breathing in the same thing he's been breathing for hours in his sleep. Hannibal smiles.]
Wrap a sweater around your hand, and break one of the mirrors.