bad news like a sucker punch, what do you say?

[redhairring]

WHO: Team Fred: aka Freddie Lounds and Frederick Chilton
WHERE: a Mexican restaurant, they both will want to drink after this conversation
WHEN: Sometime post Freddie's log with Abigail
WHAT: Abigail pushes responsibility onto Freddie. Both Freddie & Frederick probably end up wanting to drink.
WARNINGS: standard warnings for Hannibal: talk of death, violence, possible cannibalism.

How to go about this. Chilton needed to know the truth of Abigail Hobbs, of course. What if Hannibal Lecter showed up again? What if Will went home and came back, as Hannibal's little puppet? While they got along here fairly well, Freddie still could not (and would not) forget the fact that back home, she was absolutely certain Will had murdered someone. That he had killed Randall Tier. If something like that happened, Chilton needed to know.

They were a thrown-together team, whether they liked it or not. So, one brief text conversation later, and Freddie was waiting for Chilton outside of a restaurant—the same restaurant that they had met up at after Freddie's interview with Lunatic. They both knew the location, they both could get (much needed) margaritas if this conversation turned sour, it was a win win situation.

As Chilton approached, Freddie gave him a small smile and a nod. "I wish I could say this would be a fun conversation," she mused, with a sigh. "But, then again, it's never a fun conversation when I have to call up you to tell you something."

Comments

[slightlyoffchilt]

"That certainly isn't incorrect. At least, when subject matter is concerned," replied Chilton, with a raised eyebrow. Freddie exuded a sense of the frantic that was unlike her usual, arched calm. It wasn't loudly verbalized, no, and it wasn't beyond the pursed lips she maintained -- but Chilton was trained to observe and analyze the human condition, and a slight twitch or facial tightness was not about to escape his scrutiny. That lens, coupled along with the context of Freddie's mannerisms (as a comparison) and the context of her request (to come, which he had obliged), only calculated into focus.

"What's the matter, Freddie?"

The intrigue she wielded left him feeling uneasy. This was something important, but perhaps darker than the Lunatic escapade. He kept watching her, recalibrating analysis as according to her reactions.

"What happened?"

[redhairring]

"It's about Abigail," she said, with a little frown. "And by extension, it's about home and it's about Hannibal." And that was the magic word. She knew that talking about Hannibal Lecter would be enough for Chilton to sit down and listen to what she had to say. They both knew how utterly dangerous that man was.

[slightlyoffchilt]

"Abigail Hobbs?" In relation to Hannibal Lecter? Chilton cocked his head, cautious in his intrigue. Freddie always had a knack for spicing up already sensational news -- he didn't want to overindulge. Nevertheless, the circumstance between them was an unusual one, and Chilton suspected that Freddie wouldn't treat him like any old contact.

"Come, let's get a table. And you can tell me."

It seemed a lot less like a request, with that hardened tone of voice.

[redhairring]

The relationship between the two was different and circumstances were out of the ordinary. Chilton wasn't getting some sort of half-baked, dancing around the truth version of what Abigail told her. He deserved the full story.

"I'll even buy my own drinks this time," she jokes, nodding at Chilton as she does so. Making her way into the restaurant, Freddie glanced around, looking at the area. "Depending on how the night goes, I might buy you one as well."

[slightlyoffchilt]

His eyebrows raised at her offer. This was indeed a serious matter. Cautiously, he followed Freddie's lead. There was no need for a hostess, not when blogger extraordinaire Lounds took the reins.

"Are you building the suspense purposefully?"

Chilton inquired with a smile, but he did mean the force of his words. He knew quite well that he wasn't the only Baltimore-bred with a flair for the theatrics. It was, in fact, one of the qualities he rather enjoyed in Freddie.

[redhairring]

"Quite possibly," she said, with a wry little smile. Or, at least, building the suspense until they sat down away from prying ears. (And maybe also to mess with Chilton a bit. But just a bit.) Finding them a booth away from most of the crowd, Freddie slid into one side, waiting for Chilton to sit in the other before she started talking.

"I met up with Abigail a few days ago and we talked. She wanted me to tell you this." There was a pause, while Freddie essentially steeled her nerves. This conversation was going to suck. And she knew that it would suck for her because she didn't know all the details. But, Abigail wanted her to tell Chilton, so tell Chilton she would.

"Abigail wasn't dead back home. We just thought she was. She...Hannibal had her." She just keeps talking, knowing that once she stops he'll have more questions. "I don't know where she was hidden, but Abigail told me herself that Hannibal had her hidden somewhere. She knew that he killed those people, that he killed Beverly Katz." But it still might be Will, it had to have been Will, no matter what Abigail told her, Freddie couldn't shake the idea that Will had something to do with the later murders, the later killings. Who knew how deep Hannibal had sunk his claws into that man.

And then, of course, there's the whole matter that something apparently happens to her in the future, something that Abigail had only alluded to. But now wasn't the time.

super late

[slightlyoffchilt]

He measured hesitance at Freddie's precipice words -- she wanted me to tell you this. Abigail wanted Freddie to play messenger to him? This boiled with fretful undertones. Chilton eased onto the side across from Freddie, waiting amidst an accumulation of anticipation.

His lips tightened at her words.

Hannibal had her.

"Alive," he whispered. "Hannibal Lecter kept her alive."

Was there any more solid source of information than Freddie Lounds? People underestimated her, because of her inconsistent morality, but Chilton saw the bigger picture that so many couldn't. When Freddie played fast and loose with profound information, she liberated it. The psychiatrist took a deep, calculating breath.

"Does she know, why he kept her alive? Was she still a pawn in some final scheme?"

He didn't bother to inquire why Abigail had confided in the journalist. There were already ample theories on that one.

[redhairring]

"I don't know," Freddie admitted. Which was tough to admit by herself. She didn't know. She didn't know why Abigail was alive, she didn't know why Hannibal had her, she just plain didn't know. Part of it had to be to try and break down Will and Alana (and possibly her? She didn't know what exactly Hannibal thought of her). But Will and Alana...they were probably the true targets of keeping Abigail alive like this.

"But it's Hannibal. Of course she's a pawn in a scheme of his." Hannibal the Cannibal, shuffling all of them around like they were pieces on a chess board. He had to have a plan for this, an ulterior motive or something.

But Freddie didn't know. And all of this 'not knowing' sucked.

[slightlyoffchilt]

"He isn't around anymore. He isn't here."

Chilton more pressed this point, hissing it, for his benefit instead of Freddie's. Of course she knew that, of course she had taken note of the absence; Will Graham had probably informed her of the same. But he needed to hear it aloud. He needed to cling to it: Hannibal Lecter was no longer here. His chess game was overturned.

Wasn't it?

"He's done something to her," he asserted. "Is that what you're getting at? Lecter has done something to the girl, tainted her somehow. Is she a loaded gun, am I to suspect that?"

Anxiety sketched along his opened mouth, and he could feel his pulse race. Chilton knew that Freddie felt... Connected to the girl, but he had to pose the question. They, as survivors, had to consider a worser case scenarios, for the sake of preparing for it. Freddie would have to understand.

[redhairring]

"Probably," she had to admit, with a frown. Who knew what Hannibal had done to her. But this was Hannibal Lecter, there was the possibility that he had done something. There was the certainty that he had done something. Freddie's expression was tight, her lips pursed, a frown on her face. What had he done to the girl?

"I don't know, though. And I can't ask for sure." Hey Abigail, what exactly did Hannibal Lecter do to you? No way. "I suppose I'll be a bit more subtle about it."

[slightlyoffchilt]

Probably. Probability wasn't enough -- he wanted concrete answers. The fact that Freddie wasn't divulging either meant she wasn't about to break whatever vow she had yielded to Abigail, or she truly didn't know. And if Abigail wouldn't share that, well, what else was veiled?

"It might seem cruel," he said, pressing. "But it would be vital information. It would contribute to his psychiatric pattern."