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simping-overload · 9 months ago

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ꜱᴏᴍᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ

notes: I revive myself with a Frederick fic. I've been itching to put out. Might be ooc blame it on the drugs. I'm messing around with my writing style, so pardon any inconsistencies <3

This work is part of a series of mine based on the "Being Alive" song in the musical company. The 2006 one specifically with Raúl Esparza!!

tags: post s2, ansgt, frederick cries, cuddles, not in an official relationship, but they act like they are. Gn reader no pronouns or gender mentioned.

synopsis: You haven't been able to see Frederick for weeks—not after Miriam Las pointed the finger to him being the Chesapeake Riper. Which was bull. When the tension died down, you finally managed to slip past and pay the shrink and visit.

Ao3 link // 1,846 words

ヾthis is a multi-fandom blog that is designed for mlm/nbmlm identifying readers! so if you're female or fem please do not follow or interact with my mlm related post!! you will be blocked if you do not heed this warning ゛

The last few weeks have been the most boring moments of your life, being drowned in paperwork and not having your lovely shrink friend to pick on and bother.

When you finally managed to get caught up on your paperwork, you took the rest of the day off, claiming you were feeling under the weather.

You were actually picking up some things for Frederick, an expensive box of chocolate truffles, a few books filled with boring psychology studies, and a change of clothes. You remember the last time he was in the hospital, he whined constantly about how the gown ichtes his skin.

When you walked into the hospital, it was quiet, not another soul to be seen aside from the staff. Which was great since you won't have to worry about anyone snitching on you.

You approach the desk, setting your bags on the floor to let your arms relax.

"Hi, I'm here to see Frederick Chilton. I'm a friend of his." You tell the receptionist who eyes you up in down before typing away at their keyboard.

"Sorry, but he's not accepting any visitors."

This makes you frown. How badly did the feds interrogate him to make him close off his visitation.

"Can you just call and tell him that (Y/N) is here? He'll want to see me." You lean against your fist, giving them a pleading look.

They relent, dialing the number to Fredericks room. A few momments later and exchanging a few words, they hang up the phone.

"Well, you're all set. He's in room 3V, all the way down the hall and make two rights he'll be on the left."

You smile, grabbing your bags and leaving with a thank you

You knock on the door thrice, opening it once you hear a muffled 'come in'.

Frederick lays on his side, facing sway from the door and clutching a pillow to his chest.

You shut the door with a soft click, setting the bags on the most uncomfortable looking chairs you've seen before walking over to the side of his bed.

"Hey Freds." You say softly, crouching down to his level so he wouldn't have to move. You lean against the bed with your hands folded.

He looks like shit, but better than you'd thought he'd be, giving you a slight relief. You know the injuries could've turned out much worse.

His hair is grown out, more than he'd usually allow himself. You brush the hair back and out of his face.

Frederick sighs at your familiar and comfortable touch. "What are you doing here? I figured Jack forbade you from visiting."

You chuckle, gently dragging your nails across his scalp, "Oh he did. Even had someone tail me for the first few weeks to make sure I didn't see you. Then he proceeded to drown me in paperwork as if that'd stop me." Jack always did underestimate your determination.

Frederick smirks, proud at your defiance. "Then I assume Hannibal didn't manage to manipulate you into thinking I'm the riper, hm?"

"Obviously. How the hell would someone on a low meat and sodium diet be cannibal. Plus, you're already crippled—" Frederick face twitches when you called him crippled. "—with the cane. It just doesn't make sense." You huff, no one in the FBI has critical thinking skills anymore.

Frederick sighs in relief. He knew you were smart, but with how much of a master manipulator Hannibal is, he was worried he'd get you to turn on him, too.

"Good…" He trails off, eyes drifting to the bags. His face lits up seeing a very familiar chocolate company logo, Lindt Lindor.

His eyes snap back up to you, "Give me those truffles." He demands.

You chuckle, "Nuh uh, I got to make sure with your doctor that you can eat them. How about we get you changed instead?" You pat Fredericks good cheek, enjoying how cute he looks when he pouts. Stepping away, you go to grab the clothing.

"You have some audacity to tempt me. I swear once I'm recovered, I'm going to skin you alive."

"We both know you wouldn't cause you wouldn't have anyone else to get you your limited edition truffles."

You take the clothing out of the bag. It was a pair of silk PJs, the only kinds he'd wear, a few pairs of boxers and socks.

You place the clothes on the edge of the hospital bed, "I know how much you hate hospital gowns, so I got you stuff to change into. I can help you change into these, or can you do it yourself."

"I'm a grown man. I change myself. I'll call you back once I'm done, now shoo." He waves you off, using the nearby remote to move the bed into a sitting position. He painfully groans when he pushes himself off the bed, even though he is only shot in the face, the pain manged to spread, reaching his entire body.

He doesn't change until you step outside. He moves his legs to hang over the side of the bed, shimming the hospital issued gown and boxers off.

He grabs the pair of boxers, slipping them off before doing the same with the socks. He doesn't trust himself to try to stand on his own since he was bedridden for the last week.

He tugged the pants on, enjoying the way the silk felt against his skin. He ties the strings into a nice bow before grabbing the shirt.

He slips it on, minding the wires attached to his arm. He looks down to button it. He sees the scar on his abdomen. He lets out a shakey breath when his fingers graze over it. The memories of that night come rushing back like a tidial wave.

He quickly pushes the thoughts from his mind and finshes buttoning that shirt. He folds his old clothing and leaves it neatly placed at the edge of the bed.

"You can come in now."

When you enter, you aren't alone. His assigned doctor and her protogee follow in suit. he glances at the clock - 12:00 P.M. - the time for his midday check-up.

"Dr. Prescott, Dr. Harring. Hello." He gives them a tight-lipped smile. He wasn't in the mood for seeing anyone other than you at the moment.

"Mr. Chilton, we're just here for your routine checkup. Since you seem to have company, we'll make sure to be quick. Now, Dr. Harring." She pushes the younger doctor forward, letting him take the lead on the check-up as she rights down notes.

It was quick, simple, and uncomfortable. Whenever Dr. Harring touches his face he cringes in pain, and slight disgust at his oily hands.

After a bit, the doctor finally pulls away from him, "Looks like everything is good! You're recovering quite well, Mr. Chilton. You'll be outta here in no time!"

Frederick fakes a smile. He knows he's stuck here. He won't be let out until the trial or until the charges are dropped.

Dr. Prescott ushers the other out of the room, and before she leaves, she looks back at Frederick, "And yes, you can eat those truffles but only 3. I don't want to risk it getting stuck in there." She says before stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

Frederick gives you a knowing look when he glances between the back and you. You head over to the bag, digging through to find his favorites. Dark Chocolate Raspberry. He loves these concerning amount, even has a jar filled with them in his office. No one is allowed to touch, not even you.

He takes (snatches) them out of your hand, moaning in delight as he pops one in his mouth, enjoying the flavor on his tongue.

His thoughts begin to drift off as he thinks about his situation. He doesn't know what he's going to do with himself. Prison will be hell on earth for him, especially since he's crippled.

His reputation itself will be destroyed. He'd lose all his assets, his so-called friends, and whatever family he has left that actually still cares about him. By the time he gets out, he will have nothing. He won't have you.

The one person who sticks around him not just for his money or to raise their status. You're someone who actually likes him, sticking with him even with his asshole snob behavior that would have most people leaving without a second thought.

You actually listened to him, talked to him, and respected him. Even when he tried to push you away, you always came back. He doesn't want to lose you.

You notice Frederick drifting off, getting lost in his thoughts. His eyes downcasted with a far-off look. Bringing your hand to his chin, you lift his head back

"Hey… Are you okay?" You rub your finger on the underside of his chin, trying to get him to focus on you.

He owlishly blinks at you, coming back to reality he pulls away from your hand, leaning back against the bed.

"I'm fine." He huffs, popping another chocolate in his mouth.

You squint at him. You've known him for long enough to tell when he's lying.

"No, you're not. Scoot over." You slip your shoes off before slipping under the covers next to him.

You reach over, grabbing the bed remote to make the bed lay flat.

"What are you doing." He questions, scooting over reluctantly.

"We are going to cuddle and talk about our feelings. You know I hate when you hide things that bother you." You wrap your arms around him, pulling him to lay comfortably on your chest as you run your hands through his hair.

He huffs against you but doesn't say anything. Silently enjoying the way your hands feel, melting into your touch.

"I'm serious, Frederick. Tell me what's wrong."

This makes Frederick sigh. He doesn't ever like talking about his issues.

"If I get convicted, I'm done for. I lose everything I have." I'll lose you, he wants to say, but those words die in his throat. He buries his face into your shirt and sucks in a breath. He can feel tears stinging his one good eye. He hated crying.

"Not everything. I'm still here. I will always be here." You reassure him, and his body shakes as he begins to sob.

You rub his back, trying to soothe him, "C'mere baby." Pulling him up more, you take his scared face into your hand, wiping his tears away.

"I'll stick with you through everything. I'll get you a lawyer and a P.I., I'm not going to let them convict you." It's a promise that you're willing to take to the grave.

He doesn't respond and just cries harder. You rest his head into the crook of your neck, pressing soothing kisses to his temple as he cries himself to sleep.

You press a kiss to his temple, none of this was fair and you were going to be damn sure he gets the justice he deserves.

#frederick chilton #frederick chilton x reader #Frederick x reader #dr frederick chilton #Hannibal nbc #Hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #feeding my simps out there #x reader #x male reader #canon x reader

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