log; dietre & hugh WHO: Dietre & Hugh WHEN: After this. WHERE: Hughâs lakeside mansion.. WHAT: Discussing what to do about a certain dead friend. WARNINGS: Ghostly things, a bit of language, I can't think of anything else.
Today 11:12 PM
Are you home?
Iâm outside.
Yeah I'm here
be right there
There was no answering text, Dietre tucked his phone away as soon as Hugh confirmed he was home. He had been standing at the end of the walk, shaking from both fear and anger, praying to whatever good there might be in the world that he wasnât stranded there alone. Tears burned in his eyes, but he held them back from falling. At least for now.
With a furtive glance around, he hurried to the door and knocked. When it was opened, Hugh would find him standing there, cradling his arm to his chest, pale and shivering. Sieglinde was not with him, he had left her at home before setting off on his foolâs errand. His wrist burned while his hand felt stiff and numb, iced to the bone. The pain showed on his face, emotional and physical, along with something proud and defiant.
âHughâŠâ Where did he even begin? His thoughts were everywhere. âI think somethingâs got to be done about him.â
Hugh pulled open the door with a smile on his face, but it was one that faded as he took in Dietre's demeanor. Dietre frequently was more solemn, but Hugh had gotten used to smiles, and even beyond solemn, this was different - it was - somethingâŠ
"DietreâŠ" he hesitated, and immediately pulled the door back, allowing Dietre into the house before he turned to step forward and reach for Dietre's hand. "Who? What's happened?"
âLiam.â Dietre spoke as if just saying his name should give Hugh all the answers he needed. It was a relief to be away from the water, to be inside where there were lights on and someone you cared for to hold you. The hardness in Dietreâs expression began to crumble, but though he was upset, it wasnât the hopeless, spiraling sort of sorrow that he used to be so easily consumed by.
He stepped up close to Hugh and buried his face against his shoulder, seeking out his warmth, wanting his arms around him to chase away the lingering chill Liamâs ghost had left in him. He stayed that way for a moment or two before lifting his head and finally answering Hughâs question. âI couldnât sleep, so I came to the lake to see if I could talk to himâŠâ
A sigh. â...It wasnât a good idea.â He pulled away a little more to show Hugh him the result of their âtalkâ; a clear hand print in stinging red that circled his wrist.
Hugh's arms slipped around Dietre automatically, wrapping him up as Dietre mentioned Liam's name. He knew that whatever had happened with the man still haunted Dietre- literally, really, as he was a ghost that Dietre had promised to help, and Hugh had promised to maybe help Dietre if he could.
His gaze shifted from Dietre's face, down to the arm, and his eyes widened automatically, his hand reaching for Dietre's wrist. "What the actual fuck?" The exclamation came without really thinking, but his gaze shot back up to Dietre's, even as with one hand still wrapped around the other man's waist, he began moving him towards the stairs. "I've got a first aid kit upstairs," he told him, although he didn't know if he had anything in it to undo the mark on Dietre's wrist. With more calm and a good deal more soothing than he was feeling at the visible mark of the ghost on his lover's skin, Hugh asked him: "Darling, what happened?"
âI just wanted to talk to him, to see why he was leaving puddles, and⊠find out if there was something he needed,â Dietre began. He shut his eyes to help himself recall what happened and maybe figure out where it went wrong.
âHe didnât know who I was at first. He was confused, but when I told him, he seemed to recognize me.â It was difficult to explain the change in Liam from how he was when living. Each time Dietre saw his ghost he was less and less himself. âHe told me he was scared.â For that, Dietre couldnât blame him. Who wouldnât be afraid as a ghost?
âHe said he didnât want to disappear, and I tried to comfort him by suggesting that maybe he wasnât disappearing, but moving on.â Dietre frowned thoughtfully, opening his eyes to gaze down at the handprint on his wrist. âHe⊠didnât like that.â
âHe had grabbed me when he remembered who I was, and at first it was okay, but when he got angry⊠His hand was so cold.â Dietre shook his head, obviously deeply troubled by the encounter. âI never saw him angry like that before.â
Hugh listened all the way up the stairs, his mind racing. He didn't know much about ghosts, although it seemed that perhaps he should look for more information. Perhaps he ought to find out if they could be dangerous. Hannah might know, although she might want to know why he was asking, and right now, when he glanced at Dietre's arm, it certainly seemed as if the answer was yes. Liam had caused harm to Dietre after all, and that was dangerous.
Hugh motioned to the bed for Dietre to sit before he went into the bathroom and returned with a washcloth, and a first aid kit.
"I don't really know how to treat this," he admitted as he sat down beside Dietre. "Maybe like frostbite?" Although it wasn't normal frostbite. He reached out to touch Dietre's hand gently. "I don't think you should try to talk to him again," he looked worried. "At least not unless we can figure out⊠something. Maybe there's some way to protect you from him, or maybe there's some way we can encourage him to actually move on even if he doesn't want to."
He'd never considered the notion of ghosts being stuck in some sort of grief cycle, but he supposed denial, the lack of moving on, did make some sense if he thought about it. If you were connected to the physical world and you didn't want to leave - yes, you'd get angry when someone suggested maybe you were going to.
Hugh took the washcloth, which he'd moistened in warm water, and tentatively touched Dietre's skin with it.
Dietre was happy to let Hugh take control of the situation. He followed the other man and sat where directed, appreciating how Hugh jumped straight into trying to take care of him and his injury. It was so very nice to have someone care and show concern, especially after dealing with Liam who made him feel like a fool who couldnât do anything right for the millionth time.
â...It feels like a burn, almost.â He was equally clueless as to what to do for his wrist. âBut cold.â Was that what frostbite was?
âI donât think I want to talk to him,â Dietre said with an edge to his voice, feeling angry again. âI only wanted to help him, but this is what he does to me? I feel like itâs finally sunk in that heâs hurt me more than he ever made me happy.â
Dietreâs eyes were stormy, his jaw set. âMaybe we need an exorcist.â
The touch of the washcloth distracted him from his bitterness and he sucked in a short, sharp breath. â...That stings.â Still, he didnât pull away. He bore the discomfort to allow Hugh to do what he had to.
Hugh didn't know what advice to give and as usual his complete lack of knowledge where ghosts and things supernatural were concerned only irritated. He wanted to help his friends, to be able to help them be safe, but he didn't know enough to really be able to do anything. He didn't really even know how to treat whatever this was, but frostbite seemed like a good enough guess, so tentatively, especially after Dietre's immediate intake of breath, he pressed the washcloth to his skin.
He supposed he could speak to the emotional piece, if not the immediate piece of what to do with the ghost, and after a quiet moment of paying attention mostly to the physical wound, Hugh lifted his gaze up. "I'm so sorry, Dietre," he offered softly. "I suspect some people can't do anything but hurt. It's their own pain turned outward, most of the time, but that doesn't mean we need to accept that. And I know this isn't the same as a living person, but I think the concept still holds true. You don't have to speak to him again, and I think we should figure out if we can put him out of the pain he's currently in by helping him to move on, or something else entirely. I'm not really sure how, yet, but we'll figure out something."
Hugh stopped and then he leaned forward, pressing his lips against Dietre's forehead, hoping that it was reassuring even as he didn't know exactly what that something would be, or even really where to look for that something. "We need someone who deals with ghosts regularly."
Hugh didnât need to be able to give advice to help Dietre, just being there for him was enough. Dietre had dealt with his problems all alone for his whole life, having someone listen meant the world. He felt his heart expand in his chest and tears sprang to his eyes. He didnât fight them this time, instead he just let them fall knowing heâd feel better for allowing a bit of his grief out.
He had never really been able to problem mourn Liam, that was sort of hard to do when you could see the ghost of your dead friend around town. But what happened tonight seemed to sever that last sliver of longing Dietreâd had for reconciliation. Liam was dead and that was the end of it. He could accept never seeing him again. ...But not so much the knowledge that Liam was suffering.
Dietre nodded, sniffling softly. âEven if heâs sent into nothingness, itâd be better than what heâs experiencing now. Disappearing⊠Ceasing to exist⊠I think thatâd be a relief.â
âIâm sure thereâs someone like that somewhere in this town.â A resident ghost expert, or exorcist, seemed par for the course in a place like Repose. Dietre would be more surprised if there wasnât someone like that.
He wiped at his cheek. â...Should I ask on the forums?â
Hugh wrapped an arm around Dietre, even as he kept his hand and the cloth over the injured skin. He didnât know if it would be a bad thing to ask on the forums but someone might know and Hugh disliked the idea that this might happen again. He nodded, turning to press his lips against Dietreâs forehead. âI think it would make sense.â There was a beat and he added. âMaybe anonymously? We could find out what our options are.â
âAnonymously, most definitelyâŠâ Dietre worried that posting on the forums could end up like opening a can of worms. He wanted help, but there was the possibility of the opposite happening. He didnât consider himself a lucky person. And he knew that Liam had the ability to go on the forums as a ghost, he had spoken to him that way a few times. It was risky.
Taking a shaky breath, Dietre leaned into the warmth of Hughâs body, turning his head to give him an imploring look. âHugh? Could you⊠take me back to Adrianâs place? And stay with me?â
âJust for tonight.â He bit his lip, then went on. âI just-- I donât really want to be close to the lake right now.â Not that distance would really deter Liam, since heâd obviously been traveling around town given all of the puddle stories. Still, Dietre knew heâd feel more comfortable somewhere else even if it was a false sense of security.
âDo you want me to ask?â Hugh asked seriously. âI could, anonymously, but more of a âhaunted houseâ sort of feeling? I donât know,â he hesitated.
He slipped his hand up against Dietreâs cheek, and nodded, gaze taking in all of Dietre as if he could maybe assess how the other man was doing just by watching him carefully enough. Maybe not quite yet, but it felt a little easier each time he tried to do it. As he looked into Dietreâs eyes and Hugh was beginning to realize that he didnât want to tell Dietre no. And in this particular moment there was no question as to his answer.
âLet me get a small bag together,â he nodded at Dietreâs arm. âIs it feeling any better?â
Dietre canted his head, considering. âI donât knowâŠâ It didnât seem right to have Hugh ask as it wasnât his problem. Yet, the lake sort of was Hughâs backyard, which meant it would make sense that he would be the one to want an exorcist. âMaybe?â Dietreâs brow furrowed. âIâm sorry you have to deal with thisâŠâ
He sighed and reached out to give Hughâs hand a squeeze of gratitude. Hugh was so good to him, it made him feel like crying again even though his tears had just begun to dry. Dietre dropped his attention back to his wrist, flexing his fingers. They werenât so stiff anymore, but there was still that strange burning sensation in his skin. â...I think itâs a little better.â
Turning his arm slowly, Dietre traced the outline of Liamâs hand with his eyes. It hadnât faded yet. âI have a feeling this mark isnât going to go away for a while.â Already it had the look of an early bruise, the brightness of it's initial red had begun to darken. Dietre guessed that by this time tomorrow it would be an ugly purple. He gave Hugh a wan smile, âLucky for me almost all my shirts are long sleeved.â
Hygh squeezed Dietre's hand back in return. "We can talk about what I should say maybe, and if there's anything I shouldn't. I don't mind - I just don't want to make the situation worse for you at all."
Hugh's eyes shifted back to the mark, angry like he hadn't been in a really long time. Dietre wasn't someone to hurt anyone purposefully. Hugh knew that Dietre was quiet sometimes, and could see that coming across as cool or detached to someone who didn't know him, and perhaps there was some truth to that. In the short time Hugh had known him, he realized that Dietre felt deeply, and maybe that outwardly cool exterior was an armor of sorts. That someone or something would have hurt him - purposefully or otherwise - infuriated Hugh.
He leaned forward, this time instead of pressing his lips to Dietre's forehead, he tilted up his chin and kissed him gently, lingering as if doing so might somehow help his arm heal, even if that was ridiculous.
"We'll figure this out," he told Dietre quietly as he pulled back. "In the meantime, I'll come home with you, and I'll be there with you tonight, and he won't bother you again." Perhaps when he asked on the network, one thing he ought to try to find out is ways to keep a house from being visited by a ghost. He wanted Dietre to feel safe at his house, and he knew the lake made Dietre uneasy at times.
Dietre was quiet and reserved, yes, but he also, at times, had a short temper. He had yet to display it in Hughâs presence, and to be honest, his temper did not flare up as much as it used to. Being with Hugh made him a more rounded, pleasant type of person. When Dietre was around people he liked he was sweet and thoughtful. Around people he didnât like? He was touchy, quick to take offense and could be blunt and sarcastic. He had a dual personality without exactly meaning to.
If kisses could heal then the one Hugh gave him would have done the job. The mark on his wrist remained, but Dietre felt calmer, reassured that somehow the outcome of all this wouldnât be bad.
âOkay.â A pause before he murmured a sincere, âThank you, Hugh.â It meant a lot that the man was willing to just up and leave his home for him in the middle of the night. And not only that, but pretend he was the one in need of help with ghosts. And a million other things he did for Dietre, like just existing at all.
Dietre let Hugh go so that he could get together his things while he remained sitting on the bed, holding the cloth to his injury himself. âHe told me he wouldnât bother me anymore. But if he couldnât remember me at first, then I donât trust him to remember any promises he makes.â Even if Liam stayed true to his word, that didnât mean he wouldnât lash out at other people instead. An unstable ghost was a problem to anyone it might come across.
Hugh only kissed Dietre's forehead in response to the appreciation, and then he stood to gather up some clothing, a few toiletries, anything he might need to be ready to go to the Capital directly from Dietre's if that was how the timing worked out. As he packed a pair of dark navy trousers, he nodded. "That's good, but if he didn't remember you, it's hard to say that he won't. I think we have to look into it at any rate. If we can't do anything, then we can't, but," his eyes glanced to Dietre's arm as he continued. "I think we have to explore options."
He put the things in his enchanted duffel, the one Theodore had given him for Christmas, although there was no need for extra room for an overnight, it was one of the only bags he used these days.
"Alright, darling, let's go. I'll tell Zee where I'll be on the way out."