infomodder | ic contact 2 mask or menace

[And the ride to the diner slides into a comfortable silence, save for the dulcet tones of oldschool crooners. When they arrive, it's as Edgeworth promised: clean and quiet. There's not a single speck of dirt on their table as they slide into their booth, and it doesn't take long for a moment for the waitress to get their drink order. Unlimited coffee for Will and just a glass of water for Edgeworth.]

If you need a recommendation, I'd go with the pancake special. Though to be honest, I haven't found anything here that I dislike yet.

[Enjoy the small talk while it lasts, Will. It's all going to come crashing down in a minute or two.]

[Man oh man this place is so neat and clean, Will feels like he's walked into a sterile environment. Which reminds him of labs and hospitals, but he imagines the food here is better. No vending machine granola bars gradually eaten over talk of murder, no prodding at mystery puddings and meats. In fact, there's a brief moment where all he can think of is how this feels like a spot Hannibal would choose, settling in and briefly imagining Miles Edgeworth wearing one of those paisley suits without an ascot in sight, the man across from him morphing into someone else...

Nah. He's Perfectly Safe.

There's a shake of his head as he looks over the menu, that's all. He's far too used to his imagination running wild to give away the game every time it happens.]

Hard to go wrong with pancakes. [He spots it on the menu, nods, and turns it over to slide into the middle so they can be taken. Or whatever it is this place does with their no longer needed menus.] Looks good to me. Was there something on your mind or you just wanted company?

[He's not expecting it to be a truly Personal Thing, but. Rarely do people call on Will Graham at odd hours (or any hours) for no reason, outside a select group. If Miles has joined that select group, well. Will would be thrilled.]

Actually, I was hoping you could give me some advice about something.

[Edgeworth looks over the menu instead of looking at Will, reading over dishes he has memorized]

Or rather, someone.

[Oh dear.

Two mugs and a full, piping hot pot of coffee appear. Will takes this as a tangible excuse not to answer immediately and fills the silence by expertly pouring them both a full mug. With enough room in Miles' leftover for milk and cream, of course.

He sets the pot down.

It is one of the loudest sounds he has heard in months now. There is no reason for a pot of coffee against a dull counter to have the same effect as a gong going off inside of his brain, but it registers the same. Inwardly, of course, he doesn't cringe or project his dramatics outward.]

I can try. [His advice had gotten Miles into a hot seat before, after all.] Advice about who?

[He sets down the menu and looks Will in the eye]

Dr. Chilton.

[He breaks eye contact to grab his mug of coffee, adding creamer and sugar to cut the bitter taste]

He wants to try an experimental new treatment on me, and... well, you can understand why I wouldn't want to jump into that headfirst.

[It's a shame that coffee is so visibly hot he can't just chug it down. That would be a terribly stupid move.

But this isn't...it could be worse. There could be accusations coming out with this. Will hears none and takes that as a good sign. More or less.]

I can. [Because everyone should just stay out of his head forever and ever, he gets it.] What's the treatment for?

Memory loss.

[Edgeworth speaks quietly, but with more calm than he usually would when talking about the past. He knows what to say without saying too much, what to reveal and what to keep hidden, and... well, if worse comes to worst, he can always attribute this to a problem of Crane's design.]

However, memory retrieval isn't an exact science, and even doctors with the best intentions can do more harm than good. But you...

[He looks back up at Will, tilting his head as he takes a sip of coffee.]

You have some experience with Chilton, don't you?

[How much experience, Edgeworth can't say. Chilton was the head of the hospital Will was confined in. Did Chilton leave Will's care to the other doctors, or did he take a more hands on approach?]

[Will stares for a few seconds, expression completely neutral. This isn't quite what he was expecting, but he should have, shouldn't he? He'd mentioned it to Chilton a while back. If Miles didn't believe him, he could talk to Will. Will had similar issues and took a trip down memory lane thanks to Chilton.]

Doctor. [Quiet, simple reminder. It's become natural for Will at this point, to demurely put out that bit of respect for Chilton in the presence of others. Not April or Jeff, but he isn't talking to April or Jeff about needing treatment for memory loss, of all things.] I do. For my own memory loss, actually.

[He lets that hang just long enough for Miles to realize exactly what Will's said before he goes further.]

Someone had, for several months, been actively inducing seizures in me. And progressing issues with, uh, what's called lost time. I'd be in one spot one moment and hours later I'd come back to with no idea how I'd gotten from Point A to Point B and what had happened during the hours lost. I was sick with encephalitis during this, too, so I had a lot of difficulty believing what I did remember. [Stated factually instead of like deeply troubling personal history.] Doctor Chilton helped undo some of that damage. During my time in his institution, he helped me retrieve crucial memories that pieced things together.

[And then he ruined all that gratitude by using Will's hot water but he figures he's said enough for Miles to work with.]

[Edgeworth's eyes widen for a moment, and he starts to connect what Will's saying now to everything he's said about his past. However, he can think more on Will's false arrest later. He shoves those thoughts aside to focus on the man of the hour, Frederick Chilton.

He remains silent for a moment longer, mulling over Will's testimony while he sips from his mug of coffee. Can his word be trusted? After all, it wouldn't be the first time he's been burned by Will's sense of discretion. However, if Chilton was anything like Crane, if he had manipulated him, if he had violated his mind, would Will be singing his praises? Or would he be out for blood?

Edgeworth bets on the latter. There's also the hope that Will wouldn't let history repeat itself, that he wouldn't throw him in the fire a second time, but he can't depend on hope alone.]

So, Chil-

[He stops himself and clears his throat, remembering Will's gentle reminder]

The memories that Doctor Chilton helped you recover. They were all accurate, correct?

[Out for blood is more accurate. He had, after all, sent a helpful orderly to kill Hannibal Lecter the first chance he could.]

Yes. [Horrible, terrible, no good things but accurate nonetheless. Will takes a sip of his coffee, leaning back and running a hand through his hair before he slings it over the the booth, a mix of tense and relaxed. It's been years since he's had to really, really think of his time behind bars.] Drugs were involved. They were necessary in my case. He gave me some explanation of the procedure, I signed a consent form, the drug was injected... [The hand on the booth gestures outward.] Rest is history. I had spent a lot of time trying to think it out. Find what was hidden, what I knew was waiting to be found. Wasn't until that particular session that I started getting them back with the regularity I'd needed all along.

[He wonders, though, if Miles wants these memories he's missing back. If he's prepared for them to be not whatever it is he's expecting. That had, Will believes, worked in his favor. He pined for his memories like long lost lovers, he welcomed whatever horrors were waiting for him with open arms, he craved them. Was Miles the same?]

[Edgeworth listens quietly while he sips his coffee, deciding that the best thing to say is nothing at all, and lets Will explain without question or interruption. The process isn't too dissimilar to what Chilton described to him, is it?]

And were there any... complications?

[Complications from the procedure. Complications from discovering the awful truth. Or maybe both!]

[Such a terribly odd question, that. Everything that somehow revolved around Hannibal Lecter never, ever went off without a hitch. The idea that there could be something easy, that any part of life back in Baltimore could be truly comfortable was just absurd. It didn't happen. It wouldn't happen. And so Will blinks, gives away he wasn't expecting that of all questions, shakes his head, and finally attempts a smile.]

Yes. But none from Doctor Chilton. His treatment or otherwise. The complications weren't due to him.

[Everything is complicated. It's too dark to see a single fucking thing, of course stuff is complicated when no one buys light bulbs.]

[Edgeworth snorts when he sees that fragile, forced smile on Will's face, and shakes his head.]

I think I have a feeling where those complications came from.

[The same person who induced those seizures, whoever he or she is. He knows little about them or their motive, but if they tampered with Will's memories, Will's mind, Will's very awareness, then they wished to control him in some way. But how? And why? A million questions circulate in his mind about the mysterious Will Graham, and Edgeworth is reminded of how little he actually knows about him. His instinct is to dig deeper, like a child peeling away at a scab, but he grips the handle of his mug and resists the urge. If Will wishes to say more, then Edgeworth suspects that the former profiler will start an interrogation of his own, asking Edgeworth questions about who he suspects. If not... well, he can always let this conversation drop and focus on his coffee. Either way, he won't chase down Will's secrets until they present a risk to his life.]

ic contact 2 mask or menace

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