dire engagements

it feels like we're ready to crack, these days, you and I

"You ride?" Isla smiles briefly at that, her own gaze lingering on the motorbike, but ultimately she shakes her head. "You could live in the best neighbourhood in the city, but the keys are in Ronin's pocket, I think. Besides, that thing's his baby. He'll want to come back for it himself." She trails off, brow furrowing, that quiet and unspoken relief between them: at least he's still here to come back for it.

Clearing her throat and straightening up as if realising that a hairline crack has started to appear in her stoic mask, Isla smooths a wrinkle out of her ruined shirt; she isn't as soaked through as Remi and Ronin had been, but her clothes are going to need more than one wash if she wants to keep them. "Yeah," she says thickly. "I am too."

With a deep inhale, she gives Remi a parting nod, before crossing to the bike to collect the motorcycle jacket and helmet. "I'll text you," she says again, before drifting back to the van.

//

The first message comes the following morning: Ronin is OK, but they are keeping him for another night to make sure.

The next comes the evening after that: He's still in hospital, but there are no concerns.

And then finally, the following morning: He's asking around for you, if you want to visit.

This comes accompanied by the hospital address and Ronin's room details.

Up in said room, the television is off but the blinds and drapes are drawn wide open, letting in a stream of cool afternoon light. Ronin is in bed, more colour to his cheeks now, but the deep shadows beneath his eyes suggest very, very little sleep, and the bruising - it feels as though he's been mowed down by Isla's van. They're a deep, moody purple by now, a chain of them around his throat and down towards his sternum, as if he's been grabbed by a too large hand with impossibly long fingers.

It's the reason they won't let him out of here just yet, but what they don't know is that he'll be discharging himself after dinner. (Not before dinner, that's just stupid).

when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'll be

Remi shrugs, shoulders lifting like they’ve done this conversation a hundred times. "In Italy, two wheels are easier than four most of the time." His mouth quirks with something that’s not quite a smile, though it softens when Isla looks back toward the bike. As if hearing the part she doesn’t say aloud, Remi’s eyes drift to where Ronin’s still stubbornly fending off the EMTs, waving off hands meant to steady him. He exhales, nods again, gaze lingering for a moment too long before he glances away.

When Isla heads for the jacket and helmet, he offers her a tired, lopsided smile. The kind that says everything’s over, even if it doesn’t feel like it. And then he’s alone, the sound of gravel crunching under the crew’s boots fading behind him as he finally turns and walks toward his car.

//

He replies to Isla’s first message before the read receipt has time to blink. Glad to hear it. Keep me posted? The next one gets a Thanks. I’ll hold off on bothering him until you say it’s okay.

But when the final text lands, Remi’s already halfway to the front door before he finishes reading it. There’s no hesitation in getting there. It’s only once he reaches the threshold of Ronin’s hospital room that his steps begin to slow.

He pauses just outside the door, fingers grazing the gold chain at his neck. With a soft breath, he tucks the cross beneath the collar of his sweater. Under his breath, something slips out in Italian. Not quite a prayer, but close enough: a ward against malocchio, against bad spirits that like to linger where near-death has stirred the air. He doesn’t throw salt, doesn’t gesture overtly, but there's intention in the way he glances around the room.

Only then does he clear his throat, quiet but deliberate. Waiting to see if Ronin is awake before he lets himself cross into the room properly.

but there's a light in the attic and I swear it's calling me

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

it feels like we're ready to crack, these days, you and I

The slightest hint of sound has Ronin glancing sharply away from the window towards the door, and though the tension in his body melts away in moments, it's there all the same until he realises it's Remi. "Oh, hey," he says, voice rough as if he's hungover, or getting over a chest cold. "You didn't waste any time." His smile is entirely rehearsed, but where charisma and charm would usually sell it, today it's just going through the motions.

"Pull up a seat," he invites, gesturing to the visitor's chair beside his bed. "I can give you the grand tour of the place. We got the entertainment suite up there on the wall, a beautiful view of the parking lot - unrivalled, I'm told - and a selection of the finest painkillers on offer. I can vouch for those, by the way." There's a reason he's able to run his mouth without pain, after all.

Still, for all the bluster and bravado, Ronin soon falls silent, tired eyes dropping to his hands folded in his lap. "Thanks for coming," he mumbles. "It's been a rough couple of days."

when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'll be

Remi shrugs, stepping farther into the room. "I was in the neighbourhood," he lies easily, voice low and rough at the edges. His gaze drifts over Ronin, taking in the bruising that curls like shadows around his throat. The shape of it tells a story that doesn’t need to be said aloud. Even with the hospital smock hiding the worst of it, Remi’s mouth tightens faintly, green eyes lingering a breath too long before flicking away.

The description of the room draws a dry huff from him, and he lets his gaze sweep slowly across the bland walls, the too-bright windows, the television that hasn’t been touched. "Don’t forget the curated wardrobe," he murmurs, nodding at the hospital gown. "No colour, no fit, yet somehow you still manage to make it look good." The smile he offers is faint but genuine, creased with worry more than anything else.

Remi glances at the visitor’s chair but doesn’t sit. Instead, without explanation, he pulls it around to the far side of the bed, positioning it so he’s facing the door with his back to the window. He doesn’t comment on it, even if he’s sure Ronin is watching him with that same tired suspicion he always has when Remi starts acting strange. Only once he’s settled does he nod toward the other man. "I was waiting for Isla to say it was alright to come by." The words are casual, but his hands are tense where they rest on his knees.

Then silence, and not the comfortable kind. Remi lifts his eyes at last, green eyes uncertain and shadowed as they meet Ronin’s. "Have you..." His voice dips, just slightly. "Seen anything?"

but there's a light in the attic and I swear it's calling me

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

it feels like we're ready to crack, these days, you and I

"A handful of shows and a near-death experience is all it takes for you to appreciate my good looks, huh?" Ronin smirks, though unlike before, the suggestion that Remi has been looking at him in any sort of way doesn't draw heat to his cheeks. "You're right, though. I can't say I've ever worn anything quite like this." He gestures to the gown - at least until where it's hidden by the hospital blankets - and waggles his eyebrows.

The act drops as he watches Remi rearrange the furniture, Ronin's brows furrowing predictably, but he doesn't begrudge the other man his bizarre feng shui. "Isla needs to stop gatekeeping my visitors," he says, huffing under his breath, but the gesture is a fond one.

Thinking about her keeps the silence warm for a beat longer than it might otherwise be but soon enough Ronin can feel the way it closes around them, tense and cold. And when Remi speaks he swears he could have predicted what he'd say, because his head is already shaking... except he's lying.

Swallowing hard, when Ronin speaks it's barely more than a whisper, the words directed down at the blankets, and his eyes flick toward Remi with uncertainty.

"There's... a nurse," he says. "She comes here in the middle of the night." 3am, to be precise, but Ronin doesn't say that because it sounds as crazy as the rest of it. "She doesn't look like the others who work here, but you can tell. She's got an apron on, and a cap, like..." Like she's walked right out of history.

"The first night she just stood in the doorway. But last night she was at the end of the bed. I..." Taking a swift breath, Ronin rallies himself and shakes his head. "Hospital must give you the weirdest dreams, huh." The meaning ripples deep beneath his bravado, though. I don't want to know where she'll be tonight.

when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'll be

Remi laughs, a quiet, genuine sound that slips free before he can stifle it. A touch of colour rises to his cheeks, and he shakes his head. "Knowing you, you’ll try and outdo yourself next time and actually die," he mutters, dry but light. "Figured I’d better say it while I had the chance."

The smile fades as quickly as it came as Ronin speaks. Remi listens in silence after that, not even pretending to make light of the rest. His posture doesn’t shift dramatically, but there’s a tension that sinks back into his shoulders the longer Ronin continues; the kind of stillness that suggests he’s listening with more than just his ears.

At the mention of the nurse, Remi’s gaze sharpens, but not with surprise. He nods once, slow and deliberate, and though he doesn’t interrupt, the movement of his hand—where it rises to graze the shape of the small cross now hidden beneath his collar—feels telling. As if checking to make sure it’s still there.

"Does she ever leave anything behind?" he asks softly, saying it like he’s seen her too, but the words are gentle, left open-ended enough to pass as coincidence. Still, his eyes don’t leave Ronin. "Not...everything that you will see, means you harm," he continues, quieter now, before pausing. Eventually, he nods toward the window. "Things that can cross a threshold uninvited are usually peaceful." Largely because doing so relieved them of a good deal of their powers, and so anything properly malicious would be rendered too weak to make it worth it. Then again..." With a sigh, Remi shakes his head apologetically. "Hospitals are hard. There's so much death in the walls that it confuses everything. Makes it easier for things to slip through."

Remi leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees, hands laced. "You said she moved closer last night." He doesn’t say so she’ll be closer again tonight, but the implication is clear in the way his voice sinks, like a tide pulling back before something breaks the surface. "Has she said anything to you?"

but there's a light in the attic and I swear it's calling me

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

it feels like we're ready to crack, these days, you and I

Ronin smiles - a small and fragile thing that doesn't meet his eyes - at the prospect of actually dying next time; evidently the memory of his last brush with death is still a raw and detailed thing in the forefront of his mind. Still, he appreciates the compliment all the same.

"Anything like what?" he asks, forgetting for a moment that he's just dismissed his spooky visitor as a figment of his tired subconscious. "I mean, uh... no. No, she doesn't leave anything. Or say anything, either, she just... Looks at me." And that's perhaps the most unsettling part. "I can't tell if it's a good look or a bad one."

Suppressing a shudder and reaching for the cup of water he's poured on his bedside table, the gesture is clearly made with the intention of giving his hands something to do. Frowning, Ronin lets the rest of what Remi has said sink in slowly, as if deciding what to do with it. "You're the real fuckin' deal aren't you?" he mutters eventually. "I... is she going to follow me when I leave?"

when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'll be

Remi winces at the description. Not exaggerated—just a small twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he knows exactly what kind of stare Ronin means. "Like...things moved just slightly. Coins. Feathers. Bits of thread. Sometimes it isn't always physical," he says after a moment, eyes drifting toward the foot of the bed as if checking for some subtle trace. "But something like a smell. Flowers, sea salt, smoke. Or sometimes colder things, like metal, mildew or stones."

He lifts a hand and runs it back through his curls, the motion more weary than vain, and exhales a long breath. "Time doesn’t pass the same for them," he murmurs, glancing back at Ronin. "If she’s just looking at you…it might feel like forever to you, but for her, it could be the blink of an eye." There’s a pause before he adds, quieter still, "That doesn’t make it better, I know."

When Ronin calls him the real deal, Remi lifts an eyebrow like he’s just been accused of cheating at cards. "Wouldn’t be a very good TV medium if I didn’t know at least some of the lore," he says lightly, leaning back in the chair, fingers steepled restlessly in his lap.

The question about the nurse following him earns a longer pause. Remi tilts his head, studying Ronin in a way that’s less diagnostic and more...speculative, like trying to feel for a draft in a sealed room. "Depends why she's here in the first place," he says finally with a faint smile that's laced with unease. "Could make a hell of an episode, trying to figure it out, if I wasn't sure Isla would kill us for it." Breathing deeply and holding it for a moment, Remi will let his gaze slowly trickle up from his lap to Ronin's, and then finally to find the other man's eyes.

"I could stay the night, though. If you wanted someone else to.." See her? Be here? He shrugs.

but there's a light in the attic and I swear it's calling me

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

it feels like we're ready to crack, these days, you and I

"Oh," Ronin says unhelpfully, as if he's just been asked to recollect something he didn't realise he was supposed to be paying attention to. "I don't..." He shakes his head, feeling guilty that he doesn't have anything more concrete to offer. "It feels cold? I haven't really been trying to pay too much attention." An apology, almost, for being afraid and wanting - wishing - for it to have been a dream after all.

It doesn't make it better, Ronin trying to absorb as much of the information whilst simultaneously wanting to reject it so he can continue living in his old reality, and he bites at the inside of his cheek as he puts the cup back down without taking a drink. "Right, I guess that's true," he mumbles with the ghost (ha) of a smirk.

"Oh, that's... less reassuring than I hoped it would be," he mumbles of the will she/won't she of his apparent new roommate. His hand strays up towards the neck of the hospital gown, fingers glancing over the still tender bruises there. "I don't know if I'll be good for another episode for a bit," he admits, like it's hard enough to admit to himself, let alone another person.

"Stay the night?" Ronin repeats the phrase like he's drowning and Remi has just thrown him a lifeline, and a sigh shudders out of him. "I... I mean, I was going to check myself out after you left," he admits. "I don't know if they'll let you stay in here all night." Somehow asking the other man to accompany him home seems a step too far, which is ridiculous when you consider that less than 72 hours before, Remi was hauling his lifeless body out of a demonic well.

when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'll be

Remi starts to speak, but the words fizzle in his throat. "That could just be the—" he begins, before his voice fades and a tight, uncomfortable smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. What he wants to say is that when someone dies—even briefly—they get a little closer to the other side, and sometimes the veil doesn't fall back into place the way it should. That cold spots and strange silences are just the aftershocks of having been too near the grave. But Ronin doesn't need that right now, not with the bruises on his neck clear enough to make out fingerprints. ""It's probably just the room," he says instead, voice too neutral to be convincing.

When Ronin says he’s not good for another episode, the words hit harder than Remi expects. His cheeks colour briefly, then go pale as he leans forward, shaking his head fast enough to blur the curls at his temples. "No—no, of course not," he stammers, tripping over the reassurance. "I was just joking. That’s all." He doesn't meet Ronin’s eye as he scrubs a hand down his face. "My bad."

At the mention of checking himself out, Remi’s brows lift and his mouth forms a silent oh of protest that never quite makes it into a word. He hesitates, shoulders tightening with the sudden awareness that he doesn’t even know where Ronin lives. The idea of staying at the hospital feels wrong, but the thought of asking to follow him home feels worse, but leaving him alone feels absurd. It’s only the memory of pulling Ronin’s half-dead body from the pit that finally gives him the nerve to speak.

Raking a hand through his hair again, Remi says, "What if we stop somewhere first? Grab some supplies. I can hang out for a bit at your place, make sure you’re good." He tries to shrug like it’s no big deal, like he hasn’t already made up his mind. "You can kick me out the second you get tired."

but there's a light in the attic and I swear it's calling me

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

it feels like we're ready to crack, these days, you and I

Remi doesn't believe what he's saying and Ronin doesn't believe what he's hearing, but fuck if he doesn't need the comfort of the lie all the same. Nodding his agreement - probably the room, because hospitals are either far too warm or the opposite - he lets his hand drop, resisting the urge to reach out to reassure the other man. "No, it's okay," he starts, summoning a smile and shaking his head. "I mean, I imagine they got enough footage from that house to make a double feature of it. Maybe I'll have time to bounce back. And if not, who knows - my absence could be dramatic."

He moves as if he wants to rub at the back of his neck in a reflexive gesture, but of course he gives up halfway, as if remembering how much it will hurt. And when Remi offers something in between a sleepover and basically letting Ronin fend for himself, the relief that drags itself through his bones has him visibly sagging back into the pillows. "That sounds good," he says immediately, before adding (as if realising how eager he seems), "-if you don't mind, obviously."

Feathering his fingers back through his hair, he nods towards the small cubby he's been granted for his belongings. "Isla brought my jacket and helmet, so could you maybe drop me back to get my bike, too...?"

when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'll be

Remi hums low in his throat, the sound neither agreement nor disagreement, but something quieter that smooths over the space between them. He doesn't mention that there were going to be some gaps in the available footage, of course. Instead, he huffs a reluctant laugh, rolling his eyes with a glance toward Ronin that’s half-exasperated and all fond. "Everything you do is dramatic, absence or not," he says, teasing but warm.

He pretends not to notice the way Ronin sags like he’s been given permission to exhale, but of course he does. Just as he notices the flicker of pain that keeps Ronin’s hand from reaching his own neck, the hesitation before his smile, the slight tremble of uncertainty beneath it all. Remi doesn't reach back—doesn't touch—but the pull is there, tugging at his ribs like a tide.

At the mention of the bike, he glances toward the cubby and raises his eyebrows, something dry and skeptical colouring the curve of his mouth. "I very much doubt Isla would approve of you riding your motorbike on your own so soon," he says mildly. But he shrugs a second later, palms lifting; it wasn't his place to tell Ronin what to do, and now with the warning given, he felt his duty had been done.

//

The car had barely settled before Remi’s halfway out of the car, circling around to help Ronin out of the passenger side. He doesn’t make a production of it, just offers a steady hand and grabs a cart on the way in, nudging it gently toward the other man. "Something to lean on," he says lightly.

They pass the seasonal display of garden gnomes and discounted tiki torches before the store opens up in earnest, aisles stretching ahead in utilitarian grey. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting everything in a slightly too-sharp glow.

Ronin might’ve thought supplies meant groceries. But Remi? Remi is already turning down the plumbing aisle with purpose. "Salt," he murmurs, stopping in front of the big bags of coarse water softener salt stacked beside replacement filters. "And now we need..." he mumbles under his breath, already scanning ahead. Glancing around for iron, Remi heads toward the rebar, wrought-iron garden stakes, and anything else solid enough to draw blood. "Ghosts don’t like it. Can’t touch it, can’t cross it. Some won’t even come near it." It's conversationally said, and he's sure Ronin knows as much given all the different tactics that Dire Engagements has used to fight off spirits in the past.

but there's a light in the attic and I swear it's calling me

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

it feels like we're ready to crack, these days, you and I

Isla is not Ronin's doctor or his keeper, and he's quick to remind Remi as much as he goes about discharging himself from the hospital's care. They don't like it (obviously) and they make him sign an uncomfortable number of forms, but soon enough Ronin is leaning out of the medium's passenger window like a dog on a car ride, relishing the cool breeze in his face after days locked up in medical prison.

"Such a gentleman," he quips as he's offered a shopping cart to lean on - something he doesn't complain about and absolutely utilises as they head into the store. Never mind that Ronin is technically still wearing the equivalent of hospital pajamas - striped bottoms that catch a little on the heels of his shoes as he walks, the fetching button-up that matches thankfully covered by his leather jacket.

He had thought Remi meant groceries when he'd said supplies, in fact, and as salt (the plumbing kind, not the tasty kind) is followed by iron, he suppresses a sigh and hopes the sound of the cart covers his rumbling stomach. "Mmhm," he agrees dryly. "I don't suppose they sell silver or hagstones here? Or clear quartz, maybe?" He raises his brows. Evidently the high of being outside of his own free will has helped to minimise the fear and horror that will inevitably creep back in when he's alone or the sun goes down.

"Do I need one of those, like you?" he asks in a lower, more serious voice, nodding towards the collar of Remi's shirt where he knows the crucifix sits beneath it.

when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'll be

Remi raises a brow, giving Ronin a side-eye that’s equal parts impressed and skeptical. "Ooh, look who’s been doing his own research," he murmurs, voice dipping just enough to make it teasing without being condescending. As he tosses a bundle of wrought-iron stakes into the cart beside the salt, the corner of his mouth quirks upward. "Hagstones are good if you’re trying to keep something out. But if something’s already tethered to you.." He lets the sentence trail off meaningfully, accompanied by a wry tilt of his head. "Might be a bit like trying to lock the door after you’ve already invited them in."

Still, his grin is quick and warm as he gestures vaguely toward the far side of the store. "Could check the gardening section though."

He doesn’t say anything at first when Ronin nods toward his collar, gaze flicking down instinctively before lifting again. There's a pause—not hesitation, but consideration—before he speaks, slower and softer. "Certain kinds of protection only work if there’s belief behind them," Remi says, voice quiet as they pass under the flickering fluorescent buzz of an overhead light. "That’s how it works, with talismans. Symbols."

His hand adjusts the collar of his sweater absently, the weight of the crucifix beneath his shirt a steady pressure. "Even assuming you were raised Catholic," he continues, eyes scanning Ronin’s face, "right now it’d just be a necklace on you, and I'm not sure that mine's the fashion sense you want to be imitating."

but there's a light in the attic and I swear it's calling me

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3