Chilton would never admit that the first time Jack called him after Will was arrested, he was scared. He was scared because the last case he had worked on was Abel Gideon's case and well, everyone knew how well that had turned out. Chilton was frightened because working with Jack was to constantly be in panic. There were no "lets sit down and talk about this moments". Jack was constantly on the move. He had spent so long dragging Will about and being given instant gratification that to work with someone who was typical in their thought patterns like Chilton frustrated him. He was never cruel or rude to Chilton, but Chilton could tell that he was disappointed with the slower process and the uncertainty that came with working with people who didn't have Will Graham's insight. Chilton decided that he needed a second voice. A voice that could at least point him in some direction when it came to how he should proceed with Jack Crawford. And if that voice wasn't inclined to refuse due to incarceration, well, that was just and added bonus.
Will Graham stared down at his lunch tray. On it was a roll, a small pile of candied carrots, fish sticks and small buttered potatoes. He wrinkled his nose. The entire meal was unseasoned and cold. The butter with the potatoes had congealed into jelly and the fish sticks were crumbling from being over cooked. Still though, it could be worse…Hannibal Lecter could have cooked it. Will shuddered at the thought. The revelations he had experienced upon his memory being renewed had started to blur again. He suspected that someone on the med pass team of orderlies had it out for him. But there was nothing he could do about. If he even tried to refuse he would be sedated and the drugs would be forced into him. Alana had told him she suspected it as well and she was going to ask Chilton. Hannibal had been indifferent, not that Will trusted his opinion either way. He had implied that it would be bad for will to make trouble before his sentencing. Especially if Chilton was testifying against him. Will suspected Hannibal might be in on it as well.
Chilton's expensive shoes clacked on the cold cement floor, alerting Will to his presence. As usual there was a third accompanying click that was his silver tipped cane. He rounded the corner and immediately stopped in front of Will's cell. He looked agitated and tired. His usually perfectly gelled hair was slightly unkempt, as if he had been running his hand through it quite a bit. Will stood and stepped towards him.
"what can I do for you Frederick?" Will asked. Chilton pursed his lips at Will's use of his first name. Will knew he hated when patients used his first name. It made him feel like the administrator and prisoner relationship was off balance.
"I helped Jack last night. With a case that was similar to something you would assist with." Chilton's voice was quiet and calculated. Like he wasn't supposed to be saying these things. "the case wasn't that difficult to solve. It was simply a matter of trying to read emotions. But it forced me to use skills I learned from you." Will wondered why he was telling him this. As a thank you? Surely not.
"Well Frederick, it sounds as if you're the new Will Graham." Will said softly. Chilton flinched. "don't worry, it will get easier. You'll get used to being used by Jack Crawford." Chilton's eyebrows went up.
"don't be fooled Frederick…your only as valuable as your last killer." Will went back to sitting on his bunk. He began to pick at his lunch. Chilton moved closer to the bars and leaned in.
"I-I need your help." he said, his voice barely audible. Will glanced up. "I need to know how you do it."
"You don't want to know how I do it. It will kill you…or worse." Will said.
"What could be worse than it killing me?" Chilton asked, morbidly curious.
Will stood again and came closer to the bars. He looked down at his own hands and Chilton's gaze followed his.
"It could cause you to kill someone else…" his hand went up slowly and cupped his own throat. Chilton knew exactly what he was talking about. But how did that apply to him? He didn't have anyone to worry about. He didn't have an Abigail.
"I just want to know how to make the empathy come quicker. I want to help Jack to the best of my abilities." Chilton said. Will looked at him critically.
"For the victims benefit or your own?" Will knew him too well. Chilton felt like he was being scolded. His face split into a grin.
"You think you're so smart, don't you?" he asked. He continued before Will could answer. "You think because you have all this baggage attached to your gift that you have a deeper insight then everyone else." Will didn't deny it. "Well, maybe you're right. Maybe I cant be as immersed in it as you were without getting hurt." His voice began to rise. " Maybe I do need to be careful. But today I felt respected for the first time in a long while…and I'm going to keep that going for as long as I can, damn it." Will smiled at him.
"Why Frederick…it sounds as if you're trying to compensate for something." Will murmured, his fingers curled around the bars. Frederick began to step back. He was instantly regretting his rant. He had always had habit of being over-dramatic. Now he had given Will ammo. He reacted the best he could.
" I am going to continue helping Jack, like I said." he began. "And you will continue being a patient at my hospital. I wont pretend that I can replace you. And I wont ignore the hazards. But you cant convince me that what happened to you wasn't partially your fault. You lacked one thing I have…" Will leaned in more, waiting. "control." Chilton finished. Will scoffed, but Chilton had already turned on his heel and was making his way out. There was no way he would let Will Graham ruin this for him. He had hoped Will might behave and give him some tips that he could use on more complicated cases. But it seemed he would need to do this alone. That was fine, Chilton was used to being alone. He didn't need an admitted mental cases help. He could do this using just his intelligence.
The difference between Olivia Feigh and Ryan Feigh was that Ryan could get by on looks and charm alone. Olivia needed extra help. They had been identical as children. Dark hair, blue eyes, pale freckled skin. All in all, very attractive children. But as they got older, Olivia grew into a woman's body and Ryan grew into a mans and those two bodies couldn't have been more different. Ryan was tall and lightly muscled. His hair was always just the right amount of unkempt. Like he just woke up looking good. He was friendly, easy to talk to and could lure people in with a flash of his straight white teeth. Olivia on the other hand was far from charming. She never reached an inch above five foot two. She was slightly plump with wide hips and narrow shoulders. Her freckles stayed prominent on her nose and cheeks and her teeth had been chipped a few times more than was healthy. She could be attractive when she wanted. She could fix her hair and put on makeup. And in the right clothes she had lovely curves. She didn't care about looks however, that was Ryan's job. Olivia's job was to be as cruel as possible and never let anyone get away.
Their house was in the city. Situated next to a cathedral, it was a large brownstone that could have housed at least five families. But instead it housed the Feighs'. and on this night, it also housed two teenage boys who had been charmed into following Ryan home when he promised them 'free alcohol and maybe some girls if we're lucky'. Ryan had been working on these two for weeks. They were part of the universities high school program that allowed teenage kids to take college classes that sped up their graduation process. Neither of them were gay. Which had surprised Ryan, seeing as they were so eager to talk to him the first day. They had said they heard he was the man to talk to about parties. Little did they know it was Ryan who had started that rumor just so he could ensnare the naïve high school kids. He had agreed that he was indeed the party guy and then over the course of five weeks had taken them to different college parties around town. They idolized him. When he told his completely made up stories about girls he'd slept with, they latched onto every word. That's what was going to make killing them so delicious. The idea that they wanted to be near him so bad that they allowed themselves to herded in like lambs to the slaughter.
Olivia didn't care about the psychological aspect of the kill. She was there for the dissection. She had always been fascinated with human anatomy. Particularly the difference between the corpse of someone who died under extreme stress versus the corpse of someone who didn't. At the university, the cadavers only could give you so much. They were the bodies of people who had donated themselves. They hadn't been under stress when they died. Most were people who passed peacefully in their sleep. How boring. Olivia liked causing their victims as much pain as possible and then cutting them open and admiring their fluttering hearts and contracting muscles.
The two boys sat on the plush grey sofa and sipped beer from bottles. It was clear they weren't accustomed to alcohol and were shuddering slightly when they took a drink. Ryan grinned at them from where he was placing a punch bowl and plastic cups.
"So how long till the party starts?" asked the red whose name was Max. Ryan liked him least out of the two. He wasn't as eager and he took a little bit longer to warm up, but not that much. The other was blond and chubby. He was the lively one. Ryan could have told him that there was a party under the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and he would have jumped without question. His name was Andy.
"Well, I told everyone to come at nine. But you know how they are." Ryan sighed. Both boys nodded knowingly. Olivia stepped into the room and surveyed the decorations.
"Youre sure you ordered enough pizza, right Ryan?" she asked, her tone was uncharacteristically caring. Ryan shrugged.
"I ordered twelve. That should be enough. And if it's not then fuck it. They only care about booze anyway." both boys on the couch grinned at each other. For some reason they liked it when Ryan swore. Olivia rolled her eyes. The scalpel she had hidden in her back pocket felt warm beneath her hand when she pressed it into her palm. It was almost time.
"Alright boys. You two idiots time to go fucking nuts?" Ryan asked as the clock struck nine. The boys cheered and Olivia glanced at Ryan. He nodded and she flicked off the lights.
"Hey! Ryan what the heck?" asked Max.
"Yeah man! Whats happening?" Andy pleaded.
"Didn't you know?" came both Olivia and Ryan's voice in unison. "We're having a party."
