;) I'm updating quickly again! Yayness!

Chapter 11: BIG Trouble

Hugh hung his head-doing so added to the appearance of remorse. Inwardly though he couldn't stop himself from smiling. He didn't really know whether he should be grinning like an idiot seeing as his mom was screaming at him about the carpet but he was.

"You are so…irresponsible!"

"G-Georg-"

"Shut up Harley! You being too soft on him is the reason for this!" she snapped. The woman had ripped her red manicured nails one by one as the conflict had gone on.

His dad immediately stopped talking and shrunk back. But Hugh just sighed, "You know…I'll tell you the truth…"

"Don't! They'll think you're crazy!" C interjected from beside him.

"I got really mad. Because you guys are getting divorced. And it'll be weird without dad here."

They both stared at him for a moment before turning on each other.

"Well, son, if your father here didn't go and have an affair we wouldn't be in this situation."

"If you weren't so…" Harley began.

"It's both of your faults! You're both stupid!" Hugh shook his head and rolled his eyes, "see? No wonder I strike out at our home! Besides it was yesterday so you should get over it!"

His ghostly companion slapped his forehead, "you're stupid."

While they continued their screaming match the black haired teen slunk off to the kitchen. His stomach had begun to growl in the midst of yelling and he never liked to ignore his hunger. And anyway eating was in every way better than arguing with his parents over something a ghost had done by 'accident'.

"Can ghosts eat? I always wondered that. What can you do?" Hugh rummaged through the refrigerator as he rambled on to C.

"Well…I could…"

"Possess you," Hugh's hand slapped its owner in the face.

"AHHHHH!!! Get out of me!"

For a second he stayed completely silent-he didn't even breathe but the fighting continued. There was a crash which he assumed would be a lamp or other glass item.

"I can move stuff. Sometimes," the spirit wore a smirk. Oh, happy with yourself are you?

"I can move stuff. All the time. Ha!"

"You have no brain," C floated around for a couple of moments before adding, "but I guess you would be no fun if you were smart."

Hugh pulled out a clear glass bowl of leftover spaghetti. God I love spaghetti! He plunked the bowl onto the marble counter and set to locating some sauce. A few cartons of expired milk got pushed to the side along with some misplaced lettuce and wine coolers during his search but he found the much desired spaghetti sauce.

The microwave door swung open seemingly on its own. But the teen grinned, "you're in a good mood now huh?"

As if he had just noticed his own good humour C's frown returned and he said nothing.

"Ahhh…I hate nuked food!" Hugh groaned. He still stuck the pasta into the machine though.

"If you put some butter on it won't stick together like that."

"Huh? Really? I knew there was a reason I kept you around!" the boy would've smacked the other guy on the back if there had been anything to hit.

"Well it isn't to keep your modest obviously. You're still about the most arrogant person I've ever met."

Hugh was struck dumb for a second then wailed, "you really like being mean to me! Oh my pride! Your words wound me!"

"And overly dramatic too."

"But would ya still like me if I acted like I had a stick up my arse?" he set the timer and turned to lean on the counter.

C snorted, his eyes scanned the living boy's face, "who said I liked you?"

What kind of comeback is that?! I guess he's lost his good responses already. Why was he looking at me like that? It's so creepy! Hugh shuddered-living or dead he hated when people stared at him, it made his skin crawl. Especially if that person happened to be some creepy old man or druggie.

Steam billowed up from his spaghetti and he inhaled the fumes of tomato sauce-oh spaghetti. How can you bring me so much joy? The teen's lips curled up in a smile once again as he prepared to dig into his meal. Just as he stuck the fork into the mass of noodles the door to the kitchen impacted with the wall. He snapped his head around afraid that maybe the noise had been caused by C but he needn't have hoped.

"Dad, the wall…"

The man didn't answer but brushed past and pulled a cooler from the fridge.

"Dad…"

He moved over on the table to let his dad sit down and resisted the urge to slap the alcoholic beverage from the surface.

"I'm sorry..."

"Dad I don't care about the wall. Uh…but…I…uh…"

Harley stopped taking gulps of cooler and turned, "what's wrong? Did someone beat you up? I'm sorry! I forgot about-"

"I told you about fifty times no! It's not my birthday either! You didn't do anything. Just…You know when you're like…a guy…and you like…"

"Oh god oh god! I never gave you 'the talk'! You see when two people love each other very much…sometimestheyhaveababyandtheyloveitverymuch, andwestillloveyouandyoudidn'tcausethedivorce!"

"No dad! I know about babies! I know about the…I just know okay?! But uh…what if…a guy doesn't…really wanna…have a baby?" Hugh hoped his dad got where he was going with this whole thing because the idea of saying that he was gay made him feel so…typical.

"Oh. Well, that's okay. Not everyone wants kids. Some firefighters don't because they don't want to possibly leave them behind."

"I mean…You really don't get it! God! I don't mean I don't want to have kids. I just mean I don't want em with a girl!" he finally cried completely exasperated.

Harley smiled, "ohhh. Well, traditionally that's how it's done…"

"Daad!"

"Fine fine. You always ruin my fun! But that's fine Hughy, as long as it makes you happy," the man patted him on the head and plucked a few strands of spaghetti off the plate.

"You…you do know what I'm trying to say right?"

"Of course! I thought I was gay once. Being in Law school with only guys for company…Oh no! What if I am?!"

"Dad! You had …it with mom. You can't be," Hugh wanted to bury his face in boiling hot pasta.

"Oh but what a mistake! Not you! Oh no! No, no, I love you Hughy but just not the sex with your mother-oh God I just said sex in front of my son how can I live with myself?!"

He watched his dad run off screeching at the top of his lungs then returned to his food-well, now that that little secret was out there really was nothing to worry about. Except of course for the fact that he had a ghost living with him and he still had no clue who had tried to kill him. Right. I've gotta look through dad's files. Hugh glanced at his plate. But not now.

The library held no more laughter than the last time he had visited. In fact, he felt even less inclined to research now-kids swam around the first floor like little fish. Talking fish with high-pitched voices that were prone to going to the bathroom in their pants. Neither feature really made for a nice picture and Hugh could breathe a sigh of relief that he would never have to have talking fish in his household. Other than that singing bass that in the future he hoped to have displayed in a prominent position so he could fill his house with the wonder of its melodious song.

"I thought you said you couldn't leave my house," Hugh muttered as he sat in a corner of the 3rd floor.

"I lied. Besides, it's your fault for believing me. And anyway I meant I can't go to other people's houses. Unless I'm related to them. Or some stupid obscure rule like that."

"Is this conversation just to solve more continuity issues?"

C shrugged, "probably. But they're solved now so…"

They both fell silent and hunkered down with the books of unsolved murders the ghost had managed to find by floating through shelves. Hugh tried to compare descriptions of the crime to the bloody boy's current condition but none of the articles explicitly said 'boy with arm chopped off and face resembled a certain type of meat which will not be mentioned to protect the innocent'. He nearly bludgeoned himself to death with a few of the bigger texts but the sight of the transparent teenager quietly perusing his discarded books stopped him.

"I just thought of something…maybe the police might have some information!"

"Maybe…"

Hugh frowned, "don't get sad. We'll find something."

"It doesn't seem like it."

He found himself unable to say anything again. He didn't think it was because the ghost was depressing but rather this would be the second time in two days that he had been shown the true depth of the sadness reflected on that slashed face. …I wanna help him…somehow. Yet he couldn't think of what he could do. If it were a solid person he would hug them but there was no way he could do that to a dead person.

C's legs were folded under him and his crimson streaked hair fell into his face. The boy kept his gaze fixed on the books that lay on the floor and said nothing even though Hugh kept trying to say happy things like explaining his thoughts on the fish children and the bird people that lurked just across the floor.

"I can't take you anymore. You depress me. I don't know what to do."

"I'm sorry," the mutilated boy's voice came out in a nearly non-existant whisper.

Hugh covered his face with his hands, "Okay. I'm finished. Let's go see the cops."

"But-"

"Shut up. The only way for you not to be sad is if I solve your problem. So let's do it."

For a second he swore he saw faint red patches appear on C's cheeks but the colour disappeared as quickly as they had appeared and he couldn't be sure.

"Under no circumstances can I allow you to look through our files at your leisure. In case you haven't noticed you're a 15 year old boy. With no doubt germy hands."

"My hands are clean! What if I had a name?"

"…Everybody has a name."

"Yes, I know that. I mean of the person I'm looking for," he slammed his hands on the table and furrowed his brow in an attempt to emulate his dad's court face.

"Well…do you?"

"No. But I will!"

So they left the police station with no more information than they had walked in with. Hugh wanted to fall to his knees and scream dramatically into the sky but refrained from doing so only because his talking seemingly to himself got him enough stares already.

Sidewalk passed beneath him as he mulled over the little information that he had gained thus far. Which took literally no time as he had absolutely nothing to go on but the word of a forgetful dead guy. Getting discouraged now would be easy, too easy-he needed to stick with this. Eventually something will come up. It has to.

"Aunt May? Yeah. Yeah the one with the dad who acts like a queen. Right. I'm the son who actually is gay. Wait a-"

"What do you need you little bastard?!" the elderly woman snapped.

"Uh…your help?"

She muttered something about how teenagers needed more help than she could give then coughed a few times, "what do you need help with? Has your father finally gone and grown a pair and now you're afraid of him?"

"No. I have a bit of a…supernatural problem."

"I told you not to use ouija boards goddamn it!"

"I-I wasn't! I had a near death experience and then…" for the next half an hour Hugh attempted to explain to her exactly what had happened and by the end he felt fairly confident that she understood.

"What? Sorry, I was watching the game on TV."

"Aunt Maaaaayyyyyy…."

So he spent another half an hour describing his situation again in less detail.

"Get an exorcism. There you go."

"Did you not hear me? I want to help him! But I don't know how to make him remember!" Hugh banged his head against his bedroom walls a few times. Lightly though. Because he needed what brains he still had.

"Ghosts respond to familiar situations. Re-enact his death and that will help him remember."

"Okay. Thanks Auntie May."

"Don't Auntie May me you ass kisser! You never call unless you want something!"

He hung up after that. He would call her back, just not now. I really should go visit her…but all those cats!

"So we have to re-enact your death. She said that would help you remember."

For one reason or another, the idea caused quite a violent reaction from his deceased friend.

"N-no. I…I can't! You can't!"

"It'll be okay; I won't let anything bad happen."

"That entire…everything is bad about that. No. I won't. I won't!" C shook his head over and over-Hugh didn't know what he would do now. There wasn't any other way.

"I promise okay? Nothing bad will happen to you, you can't die twice," his fingers itched to express his feelings through a simple touch on the face or a hand on the shoulder. But it doesn't work that way.

"I said no. I'm not doing it so you can just find a different way!"

The ghost disappeared but his presence still remained within the room. Hugh sighed and sat down at his desk to start his English essay on The Merchant of Venice which, though described as a comedy, only held amusement in the form of every single male character hugging each other every two minutes thus inciting massive 'they're ghey!' riots. He supposed that was why the class had yet to finish even the first act half way through the semester.

After a few hours of sitting in front of a blank paper the teen flicked on his lamp. The sun had begun to go down and the assignment had a due date of April 5th which, of course, just happened to be tomorrow. He had been attempting to start the essay with every line he knew but, Huh supposed, English just wasn't his subject. Not essays anyway. A few times his cell phone had rung and displayed Kyle's number but he managed to eschew human contact with a firm hand. People equal distraction…but maybe he can help me…ugh…

All at once he looked down at the paper and everything flowed out of his pen like a word waterfall. It wasn't until he reached the 4th page that he realized the very obvious fact that he was being possessed.

"What-are-you-…"his mouth didn't work properly and his hand slapped him across the face again, "stop talking and write you idiot. You'll be here all night otherwise."

"By the way I can't read your mind. You're just an easy person to read," his voice murmured.

"But-you-knew…meat."

"I know what my face looks like. I don't need you to tell me that I look like a rare steak."

"Sor…ry," Hugh forced out.

"You should be. You're nearly done now so you can write the concluding paragraph."

As soon as C left his body Hugh dropped to his desk already snoring even on the descent.

"You should've just written instead of trying to fight it," the ghost sighed then turned off the lamp casting the entire room into darkness.

---

lol. the butter thing is unhealthy but true! It works with Kraft Dinner. I do it all the time cause I heart KD but don't like how it sticks together. I think the same applies to mashed potatoes as well. Anything that gets clumpy ha ha. Oh God. I want to write a side story about Harley in his Law school days. . I'm such a loser. Aunt May is pretty much exactly like my own grandma. They're both crazy swearing grannies XD my nana once called a young child in a grocery store a little bastard. His mother was right there too.

I'm trying to keep spots of humour in there just so that it isn't such a huge change from the first chapters. But I must admit, this was always meant as the type of story that started off light hearted then became more serious...I still have a lot more plot to cover T.T I've got it all written down too XD