francis drake, jr. (isthereacure) wrote in genome_project, @ 2010-10-14 18:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | october 2010 |
Who: Dietre and Francis.
What: After his run-in with Layla, Francis gets a call from Dietre asking him to come home. Francis obliges and what he finds there is very ... surprising.
When: Late Friday evening/Early Saturday morning.
Where: Francis' house.
Rating: PG-13?
Status: Complete.
The buzzing in Francis' pocket went unnoticed at first, but as it persisted he put his current beer down and fished the phone out where he could see it, hoping it was one of his friends who had decided they could hang out after all.
But no, the caller ID clearly read Dietre Abendroth.
It took Francis only a moment to decide he wasn't going to answer the call, and another to flip his phone open.
"What?"
"...Are you...coming home, soon?" It was Dietre, who else would it be? But his voice sounded...strange, even for him. Tremulous. A barely audible whisper. In the weeks they had lived together, Dietre had never seemed to care wether his guardian were home or not, for him to actually call and ask was extremely out of character.
That quickly caught Francis' attention. "Why?"
There was the sound of a muffled breath, cut short as it caught in the boy's throat. "...I'd just like if...you were home. Are you coming? Soon...?"
Francis knew the kid very little, but he could tell there was something going on. Abendroth had never requested his presence before. Besides, drinking alone was getting boring.
"I'll come now," Francis answered, already slipping off of his stool.
"Thank you." For once, Dietre actually sounded genuinely grateful for something. Then came another one of those breaths, giving the impression that perhaps the boy could be crying.
"...Hurry? If you can?" There was an audible swallow. "It's my mother..." Now Dietre's voice broke, followed by an tortured sound, his voice one of complete despair. "She won't stop staring at me."
And that was all. He had hung up.
***
Francis could see his house from where he was trudging up the driveway in the chilly dark. He’d been dumbfounded upon first getting off the phone, and that feeling hadn’t really changed since the conversation. Theories bounced around his head, ranging from fiercely logical to fiercely bizarre, but Francis was almost positive about one thing: that the kid wasn’t lying. Even if he was imagining what he saw, even if there was really nothing there, it was difficult to fake emotion that convincing. He could still clearly hear Abendroth’s voice in his head. The kid wasn’t a jokester, either.
With great caution, Francis unlocked his front door upon arriving home, and he looked around his dim-lit living room. There was only one lamp on, and it was one he’d left on so when he got home he didn’t hurt himself trying to navigate in the dark. There were no sounds and nothing looked out of place - nothing even looked touched, like he lived there by himself.
“Abendroth?” Francis had taken to calling the teen by his last name, even though as a nurse he called the kids by their first names, Dietre included. It was another way to establish distance between them, although he had to admit, being called Mr. Drake in his own home was starting to get on his nerves. “Dietre?” He tried again, but no answer.
When Francis got past the couch, he could see light beneath Abendroth’s door. “Hey, I’m coming in!” he called, but thought better of it and knocked. Receiving no answer, he thought better of that and pushed the door open without permission, only to freeze at the sight in front of him.