Who: Dietre and Francis. What: Francis got the order to take Dietre in, so it's move in day for Dietre. When: Friday afternoon. (future dated) Where: Hospital, Dietre's old house, Francis' house. Rating: PG/PG-13 Status: Complete.
The day had gone by unusually quickly at school, with only minor snags here and there when a student with an actual ailment would arrive at his threshold. Francis wasn't sure if that was good or bad since he had more business to attend to that afternoon, of the unpleasant variety.
His car rolled to a slow stop beneath an overhang at the visitor's entrance at the hospital, beneath which stood a morose figure. That figure was the source of his stress, and as much as Francis wanted to deny that taking Dietre Abendroth in wasn't that big of a deal, it was a big fucking deal. Francis had lived with his parents for twenty-one years of his life, but after he'd bought his house and moved out he'd been completely alone. That was a long time of chosen solitary confinement that was about to be shattered by a young stranger: one that had, perhaps, had something to do with his own parents' murders.
Despite his worries, Francis pressed a button by his elbow and watched as the passenger's side window slipped into the door, allowing fresh (and somewhat chilly) air into the car.
"Get in," he said to Abendroth, no amount of kindness filtering through the command. If he was lucky, the kid would keep to himself and only come home to sleep. Then, after a very short time, Arthur Bacchus would give him a call and say the scientists had found alternative lodgings for Abendroth and give him that address. Perhaps that would happen … in a perfect world, but if anyone was familiar with how unperfect the world was, it was Francis.