textualhealing | IC CONTACT

Stop writing about me specifically, I mean. Or are you saying once you start doing this again I'm back on the menu?

I got to know you. It's kinda weird writing that stuff about friends.

Weird. Because you're afraid I'll find them and read desires in what you've written that you didn't intend to put there, so things will change between us? Or is it an issue of respect?

[Leave it to Will to go the route of fear and horror before he points out the one that screams basic human decency.]

[Well done Will for making this super awkward.]

The latter. Respect I guess.

[He's good at that. Let him show it more clearly.]

Good. I respect you as well. [Mutual respect +10!]
So I'll go out on a limb and assume respect lends itself to a willingness to pass along favors, if they are asked politely and respectfully. [Phrasing demands as requests +10!]
I'd appreciate you don't write about me again, but I'm unlikely to be upset with you even if you do. I've had worse in the press back home. [Guilt trip +10!]
However, you will not write about Abigail, for any reason. That is one line better left uncrossed. ["Passive" paternal warnings +10!]
And for the second, I'd very much prefer if you didn't write anything about Dr. Chilton, either. Tease him all you like, but don't contribute. [Protecting his people behind the scenes +10!]
Please.

[He said politely, Goddamnit.]

Yeah no. Not gonna write about any kids, thanks. Tbh, I don't really write about anyone. Between lack of time, lack of interest, dyslexia and a hatred for unnecessary work, I kinda fell out of love of adding to the shitty fanfics out there. Your passive aggression is totally appreciated though.

I didn't know you were dyslexic.

[He says nothing about his aggression and its passive state...but good, Jeff is a smart cookie.]

[The smartest of cookies.]

That's the thing you pick out of all that? No 'thanks Jeff for not being a total creep and writing about a teen girl because for some reason I totally thought that's a thing you'd do'?

[SIGH]

That isn't how I would have phrased it if I'd been so direct. You like to talk about yourself on occasion. I was trying to invite you to do that as my way of saying thank you.

Yeah whatever. You're welcome. What's the deal with Chilton? Why don't you want fic on him?

Are you just curious or is this going to influence later decisions should you return to your love affair with shitty fanfics?

Just curious. Stop with the paranoia.

Requesting clarification is different from paranoia. One is crucial to understanding, one can prevent it.

[What he means is, his answer is based solely on Jeff's motivation. Go figure.]

How much do you know about what happened back where he and I come from?

Pretty much nothing.

It's not really a conversation meant for this platform.

[Except it is, it so is, because it's easier to hide then. It's easier for Jeff to hide. But while Will can respect the desire and the comfort in being able to hide, there is a tug that doing this as such wouldn't be quite so polite. Not when he lives with the man. Not when they'll see each other later, possibly. There is disrespect, were he to do this in such a format. There is a sense of rudeness, even of dishonor that Will feels bubbling up.

Sometimes dragging things out in the light isn't easy, but that's how life is.]

We could go out for lunch today. Or run off to dinner after work. Leave everyone else to fend for themselves.

[Jeff may note his options revolve around food, in public, this time instead of simple drinks, tucked away in privacy. Such Serious Business.]

[Obviously something of interest happened, that's for sure. Jeff's own life can be described easily enough over text so what's so special about these guys...]

Lunch is fine. I can take a long lunch, joys of being self-employed.

[A couple of somethings.]

Great. I'll meet you at your office.

[And there's Jeff, at his office!

Decked out in a fancy suit with a glass of whiskey at his elbow, he looks to be doing zero work right now. Probably because he's not. Because work blows. Drinking booze and playing on his phone is a way better use of his time.]

[Will isn't quite up to suit standards but he does come around in something more professional. He's even wearing a tie, for God's sake. Jeff might hear a bit of chatter outside his office, probably expected it. There's no phone sex or work sex to be had, though, and Will slips in through the door after a quick knock shortly after with the tiniest smile on his face.

...and a bag of food. Apparently someone revised the whole going out plan, if only because once he thought about it, keeping Jeff somewhere that was his felt a better idea. Public had its advantages, but this was public and private, and Will figured it was just more palatable this way.]

Hope you don't mind. Most everywhere was already packed, had people waiting at the doors. Figured this would be easier.

[He gently puts the bag on Jeff's desk, dragging up a chair to sit closer than any appointment. There are choices, he may not be surprised to find. Two full meals of Chinese take out (one marked with VEG) and a salad that's geared towards protein and iron-rich foods. Will already gave April hers, so Jeff can have his choice of super healthy or not quite as super healthy and the other will definitely get eaten later. By someone.]

[There's really no need for the knock, not when Jeff's already got half his attention drifting to the doorway the second he hears another voice outside of it. He'd recognise that quiet tone anywhere, and because he's a totally welcoming buddy, he even slides his phone away as Will enters.]

Good call. I'll get the next lunch. [He decides, perfectly grateful at the decision making that was made without him if only because it involves him not having to go out and deal with crowds of people.

The salad is picked (of course) and he pulls it towards him, nodding his appreciation as he opens it up and inspects.]

How's work? [Small talk is what adults do. Apparently.]

[Totally welcoming buddy, indeed, and that's returned. Will notes the choice but doesn't draw attention to it, no lingering stares. He simply opens his own box of vegetarian take out, rips open the plastic-wrapped utensils with his teeth like an uncultured heathen who's never once in his life been at a fancy dinner parties where knowing which fork and spoon went with which part of the meal was a thing. Look at him, so normal, so typical, so plain and unassuming. They could be sitting around at the house for how at ease Will is playing this off as, ready to eat over his lap and everything.

Then Jeff goes and asks that, eroding an already taut and unsteady thread of Will's resolve. He stares for a moment, gives a laugh that's harsh, bitter, completely mirthless, and then stares down at his food as he stirs it and shrinks a bit into the chair.]

Tolerable. [Which is where Will sometimes draws the line, no matter how bad an idea that is.] Pays the bills. Don't have to do as much side work to cover everything. You could say it's good, really.

[Compared to back home, it's paradise. For now.]

You know Doctor Chilton was an administrator at a hospital for the criminally insane back in our Baltimore, don't you?

[An easy in, and, of course, an in that steers to Chilton more than himself, followed by shoving a big chunk of broccoli in his mouth and staring at Jeff's collar instead of his eyes.]

[Jeff's own manners are non existent too, matching the teeth ripping and the food shoving so effectively that he's practically mirroring the actions. It pays to play mirror, to try and put others at ease with similarities and solidarity, even if Jeff would have just as likely eaten like this without Will's encouragement.

It's only after he almost chokes himself on a large salad leaf and washes it down with a heavy swig of scotch (drinking it down like water) that he thinks to get Will a drink, dragging out an empty glass from a desk drawer and sliding it over to his friend, gesturing lazy to the bottle on his desk.]

Yeah, I'd heard something like that. [And yet he never really finds these things out, intent as he is to never really know people. It's easier that way.]

[The sound of booze being pushed his way draws him like a fish to wriggling bait, and he gives a short nod in place of thanks (just say thank you, Will????????) as he leans forward to serve himself. Jeff may notice he fills that glass up, no pretense about just taking a moderate drink, no. In it to win it.]

He and I worked together. [Sort of...Chilton gave him work, it counts.] One of his patients murdered a nurse. Had to investigate the similarities between that and...a more notorious, sought after serial killer.

[Super casual about murder? Yes, yes he is, carefully twirling a chunk of noodle around his fork. More than is a proper mouthful but that's good, that's the purpose. Give him something to do and ground his mind from wandering to that evening with an elk head in Abel Gideon, Will picking bullets out of the wall and cleaning up any evidence Chilton had been there. Like a good dog.]

Couple months later, I went back. [He stares at that enormous forkload of food, shifting to cross an ankle over his knee.] As a patient. Incarcerated in his hospital. False accusations, but I was there for a while anyway.

[He shoves that fork in his mouth without further ado, eyes moving up to finally look Jeff in the face.]

[Will won't be getting much of a reaction, but it's there in the mildest of forms. A slight furrow to his brows and his mouth creasing downwards just a fraction is enough to display Jeff's thoughtful curiosity, his attention locked towards Will with only the occasional drift towards his salad and scotch. Got to keep well fed while gossiping.

It's hard to know how he's meant to process this information and what's expected of him. His total level of apathy should be known by now, but for the sake of friendship he has to show some level of empathy on the matter. He's definitely curious about it, letting each thread of information slowly come together to slowly create one solid tapestry of imPort drama that he's been piecing together from various 'he said she said' sources. Everyone seems to have shit going on and Jeff feels like he's stuck right in the middle of it all, totally clueless, but left holding far too many tales with no apparent relevance to each other.]

You two seem pretty friendly considering he had you in a nut house. [Such political correctness.]

[Wow, it's his life, it's not gossip, how dare. How dare.

Will assumes that despite Jeff's apathy, he might like to know if he's living with a dangerous individual who could reasonably kill and eat people, that's all. Even April had gotten the spiel, with nervousness behind it, though she'd gotten more. An ear in a sink more.

Jeff's reaction has Will quickly reaching for that glass to swallow down as fast as he can, shaking his head at the summary. No, wrong, he'll explain.]

He didn't put me there. He was doing his job. I can't hold that against him. [Because he has enough difficulty laying full blame at Hannibal's feet in his poorer moments, so he has to put up clear, precise boundaries. He'll later stumble around them, everything bleeding over and blending in, but he knows, he knows who put him there and he knows holding it against anyone else only serves to give Hannibal some leeway and that is unacceptable.] It...

[He drops his fork in his box, running a hand over his mouth as he tries to think of the least depressing way to say this. And struggles, because everything is awful in Baltimore.]

...could've been worse.

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action?!

always

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