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Well, it depends on your point of view. Seen in the right light, problems only ever present opportunities for solutions. [Whatever those might be, however radical or unconventional, perhaps even immoral.]

Rarely is there a problem that cannot be solved.

[He glances at the man in the room. Hates that his brother made him go - see a therapist, for godsakes, it's just a bloody injury - it heals it scars over, he doesn't need a bloody therapist, especially one that's - he's quite sure is a master of manipulation though not quite as good as his brother. He feels like retreating, might have been thrown to the wolves once - but now. Again.]

Obviously yes.
[This isn't helping. But his best friend is busy and he's bad at starting any conversation having to do with emotions because he doesn't understand them. So what is he going to do? Act like he's stupid, probably. But whatever this conversation is leading to - it sounds... worse. Like the alternative is - taking his life which he doesn't really care about in the first place - but, now he cares less. But he's bad at talking, he's barely said a word. Hoping he'll go away. In truth Dr. Lector makes Sherlock about as uncomfortable as taking off his coat when the wind rips through the city.]

[Eyes narrowing, Hannibal takes a moment to jot a little something down in the notebook set beside him, giving Sherlock a moment to gather his thoughts, to piece together the shattered remains of his confidence. The man's wound like a spring and, as entertaining as it might be to watch him unravel, Hannibal thinks better of it. For the moment, at least. He might yet prove useful to him in some way.] Do you think yourself an enigma, Mr. Holmes?

[He's firmly looking at his hands before back up again. He is a bit broken, unable to focus, unable to understand what's going on - though his social ineptitude had always been there; nothing different there.

He just feels... wrong. But Doctor Lector is - he can't quite put his finger on it but - something is so wrong there he can't... quite get it together enough to focus. Come on, look.]

An enigma is something that is nearly impossible to solve. You just said for most problems there's a solution.
[Stop playing mind games with him. Big brother and him used to do this for fun.]

I did. But I'm trying to get a better understanding of how you see yourself. [How deep does all of that narcissism, that ghost of an intelligence go, he wonders? There's only one way to find out.] You just said that you were a problem.

Do you think, perhaps, there isn't anyone intelligent enough to... crack you, as it were? [Because Hannibal's prepared to prove to him just how wrong he is, if he does.]

[An idiot. Unpleasant. People... don't like me. And I usually don't care. He shrugs. Maybe his intelligence is already cracked, interesting that his brother sees it, but no one else does. Maybe he can hide for a while longer. Pretend he's fine and not... fallen. Whatever that means.]

You're offering a challenge.
[It's said a bit dully. He doesn't care about the challenge anymore. He's already lost, what's the point? And there's no point in biting when this... whatever he is thinks he's smarter. Some of it's real to him. The depression, not really caring about much of anything. Nightmares. God, why can't he sleep?]

Not quite. I'd like you to challenge me. [It seems to him that perhaps Sherlock hasn't bothered to try in quite some time.] Or do you not think yourself capable?

Why would I want to? I'm just here to tell you yes, I'm fine. No I don't want to off myself, never have, and that's all and my brother can read all your notes and you'll discharge me.

[He's fixated on a point just behind the doctor's ear. Not looking him in the eye, not looking away. It's best to have all defenses up and on alert, even though he appears relaxed. Obviously he's not fine, but - he's resisting.

He can't get away from the nightmares, that's all. Really. Wouldn't any normal person have nightmares? But no with his brother it's never that, there's something wrong with him. Always him, never thinking there might be something wrong with himself. He feels broken, yes. But he doesn't want anyone to know about the damage, just continue building walls up. Not face it. After all. It's not like anybody needs him to open up to them, is it? Not like he'd ever want to do it.]

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ohshitohshitohshit

/pets! It's okay, bb, Hannibal's going to take care of you. :3

yeah sure he is >.<

O:)

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