slightlyoffchilt | - IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

Worst case scenario, Will: she's returned home, back to whatever Hannibal will do to her. Has done to her.

Has done to her. I know. I was there. Now I'm here.

[Which he means in more ways than one. Chilton has a choice—Will can go about his business quickly and threaten only silence. That poor cat deserves some verbal coddling, and she's going to get it. Grouchy grumpy texting come, easy go. It could happen, Will would be okay with it.]

You were there.

[He pursues.]

You were there, with him? You saw.

[You know all of it, he wants to say. To accuse. Not even Freddie knew the whole story, or at least -- she wasn't giving the tell-all to Chilton.]

I was and I did. It looks like our eternal game of chronological tag continues, Frederick.

["Abigail and I align now," he almost types. Almost, if only to use something else that makes it so she's still present. If he says it enough, it will be true. Maybe he can just snag one of her cups or something, take a souvenir, too.]

[He doesn't respond right away. Freddie had taunted him about the future, months ago -- unfairly, he thought. And now here was an unbiased source.

Or as unbiased as Chilton could afford.]

Does Jack Crawford ever believe you?

[Freddie Lounds and her rudeness. Will's response is quick, no hesitation. Cat can deal with it.]

Yes. [And Chilton helped, but that's better left in darkness as much as Will can keep it there, isn't it?] He proved who he is. There is no room for doubt.

Crawford wouldn't believe me, when I met with him. He threw me to the wolves. Of course, of course he would succumb to your story.

[Disregarding the fact that Will Graham had actually gone to his BSHCI and paid a grueling price for the sequence of these events -- oh it was only psychological torment, don't you know!]

[If Freddie can get away with whining about a lack of space to Will, knowing where he'd been, he can surely let the other Fred get away with this. It's only fair, especially considering who might have also thrown Chilton to the wolves at one point...]

People know the truth of the Ripper now. Isn't that what really matters?

[Avoids heroic defender status for Jack Crawford, good boy.]

[Chilton spends some significant time scowling at Will's message -- of course, Graham has a point. That is, big picture, what really matters. Really! But Chilton, petty and coiled as he is, couldn't bring himself to agree.]

I endure some anxiety over my future state, bearing in mind what Freddie has already hinted at. I can't say for sure that the truth is relevant any longer.

[Goddamnit Freddie. He knew he should have asked what she passed along, but they were too busy bonding over Yuri Petrov being a pain in the ass. This design sucks!]

I don't know what Freddie's hinted at, but you know she's been wrong before. We've seen that both here and back in Baltimore.

[Don't tell him what she said, don't put him in that rock and hard place, dismiss all the Lounds talk and be happier for it. Please. Please.]

She's been wrong for the sake of sensationalism. There is no glory to get, doing this to me.

[It's practically a sulking over text, but he'll stick to that point anyway. There was a distinct and lingering feeling that something, something was being held from Chilton. But he was in pursuit.]

What has Hannibal done to me, Will?

[Sigh. He spent so much time lying his ass off to Hannibal about...well, almost everything. There was a purpose to that, though! Is there a purpose to lying to Chilton about it all, to keeping him in the dark?

Uh yes there totally is. But is it worth it when, at least, Freddie Lounds could call him out as the lying liar he is, when Frederick Chilton knows Freddie Lounds just as well as Will, has proven that already?

Probably not.]

What he does to people he can use. [That's not EXTREMELY LOADED or anything.] I don't know how much you really want me to say here.

[More like he doesn't know how much he should say, don't make him do this. Poor ol' Frederick.]

Edited 2015-01-25 23:13 (UTC)

I want to know if I'm still alive by the time you were taken from our world, once more.

[Blunt as the text may seem, Chilton took his time parsing it, fumbling through the emotions of dread and anxiety. He wrote, rewrote, deleted, and wrote anew -- but his own survival trumped whatever treacherous truths might lie ahead.

He doesn't know about how Gideon was left in his basement, or his arrest, or the Miriam Lass gunshot. He knows that Hannibal has framed him, and he knows his instinct would be to run.]

[Oh, an easy question. Praise Somniatyne!]

You are very much alive. [Hannibal probably knows this. Probably. Even if he hadn't figured it out...whatever, Will can worry if Chilton will go running off at the mouth to Hannibal if he shows up.] Jack put you in protective custody. I can't tell you where, but you're fine.

[For a guy who'd been shot in the face.]

Why can't you tell me where? Who would I tell, in turn? Even if we could recall anything from this dimension, I assure you my interests remain in staying alive.

I can't tell you because I don't know.

[Jack Crawford doesn't tell his bloodhound everything, more news at 11. Except maybe things would be different if he, at least, knew about stomach cancer smelling abilities. Maybe Will would have taken a shower after he talked to Freddie and doused himself in Axe Instinct. Maybe he'd understand how the hell Hannibal figured anything out.]

It was safer if I didn't know your location. We are also interested in keeping you alive.

[Gosh, Jack, ruining it all for the rest of them!]

I certainly understand your anxiety about my health, as you know that I subscribe to your testimony of events, even in Baltimore. [Even when no one else will, he meant.] But Crawford made it clear to me once he's done using his pawns, he'll chuck them aside. Unless by "we" you meant Doctor Bloom.

And I know you did not.

[It's Will's turn to take his time replying, to write and rewrite, to consider words carefully before he tosses them out, to call back that, yes, Frederick Chilton did actually believe him, even if he had more reason to than others. Freddie already knows. It is probably not what Chilton would expect—had anyone?—but oh well, he probably hadn't expected to be framed for Ripper murders, either.]

I went back into therapy with Dr. Lecter not long after I was released from your facility. That is why I don't know where you are. You haven't been chucked aside. You've been hidden, and we have done everything possible to keep it that way. "We" used to refer to Jack and myself, yes.

[Damn right he didn't mean Doctor Bloom. He does not want to discuss Doctor Bloom. Abigail doesn't seem to want to discuss her much either, for some reason.]

[Went back to therapy with Lecter. Went back to therapy with Lecter. Of course, the first thing that came to mind was ploy -- Will was his own bait, surely. But the sheer audacity, the imminent danger, the treachery!]

Whose idea was that? Sending you back to Hannibal?

[Was it Jack, he thought. Chilton was stuck on that informational tangent. All thought of Alana Bloom went out the window.

So to speak.]

[The likelihood for most of the cast to end up slaughtered if it went wrong! Awesome idea.]

Mine. No one sent me. I went back of my own [free will] volition.

[It's one way to defend Jack Crawford's treatment of his pawns. His wriggly live bait Will Graham-shaped pawns, at any rate.]

[Well. Well. That confession had taken Chilton aback; he was more than ready to fault Crawford. But, perhaps, it made sense that Will Graham would own up to his own actions. What else did he own, that was so thoroughly his? What else could he say was untainted by Hannibal?]

Brave of you.

[But not stupid, Chilton would not have called Will stupid for that. It wasn't even the worst idea conceived -- Chilton still attributed that to Kate Bishop. After all, if anyone to sneak into Hannibal's skin, it was going to be Will.]

But really, for our sakes, I hope you don't fail.

[The first part tears, just a bit. Brave...

And once he reads the rest, he wishes that was the only thing that tore.

Moving right along, for the sake of both their guts. Maybe Chilton will allow it.]

I've taken care of the cat, so no need to worry about bad smells from Abigail's room. Can you give it some time? A week or two? If we can't find her, I'll stop by before it goes to someone else or you turn into a lounge.

[Stop by to like, box up her belongings and collect all her hairs out of her brushes or something just as sad and strange and ripe for analyzing. Chilton could even watch. Fun for everybody.]

I only did that for Hans because he was worth the disdain. [Well that was an outright confession, wasn't it? Maybe Will just brought out a certain honesty in others. In addition to the fact that Chilton enjoyed a little gloating, too.]

But yes, I won't interfere with her belongings and space. Just in case.

[He hesitates, before finishing with:]

Let me know if I can help. With anything.

[Hey, any confession that veers towards something good about Abigail Hobbs (her housemate/his former psychiatrist doesn't find her worth disdain, score!) is not the worst thing to come out with in Will Graham's direction. It's not what strikes him the most about Chilton's message, either. That's all the last two sentences, and he stares. And stares. And he has to have claws digging into his shoulder a little uncomfortably before he realizes he's been doing nothing but staring at the message and still managed to wind up back where he belongs, needs to pull his head out of space to open the door, get it together, Graham.

Oh.]

Thank you. Leaving her space as it is, currently, is more than enough. I appreciate it. [It's not intended as a dismissal; Will's just realized in the midst of his blind drive to find Abigail, he's completely neglected any of the basic courtesies of conversation. No "how are you doing?"s to be seen, no "thank you" without Will wanting something behind it, and while he's fully aware of how the Baltimore crew can function without them...Chilton had been the one to come to him, covered in blood, with corpses on his property, and still had the decency to say please. What an ingrate.] But I hope you know that door swings both ways, regardless of what's going on or has been said.

[Mister Different-est Perspective Black Hole Of Mirth is still tracking, after all.]

Truly appreciated.

[Was this weird? Exchanging what amounted to be vows of mutual support between himself and Will Graham? Was that unnatural? The context of those internal questions weighed harshly; after all, they had both been transported into a different universe, how could anything be considered weird, comparatively?

But nevertheless, there was a suspicion of camaraderie between them, right now. Chilton couldn't help but return to that, he couldn't help but consider and reconsider the variables that resulted in how Will Graham was more like a friend now, than ever before.]

- IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

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