Flip side (private)

Follows It just keeps getting better

Wake up.

Kyle opened his eyes with long sigh. The overhead light was dim, but it still managed to burn a hole in his head. Squeezing his eyes shut again, he fluttered his lids, trying to get accustomed to the brightness. Finally he said fuck it and sat up.

He had expected his head to pound like a jackhammer, but was pleasantly surprised. Rubbing his hands over his face, Kyle pulled back the white sheets and swung his legs over the side of the bed. And it was a bed, he realized, a hospital bed with white sheets and a knitted white blanket. It practically scraped his legs, it was so coarse. This wasn’t Duibne’s hospital ward, he realized, but Nachton Hospital. Sighing again, he looked down at his legs.

Man he was hairy.

Kyle wiggled his toes and looked at his bare legs. His hospital gown was pale blue with darker blue triangles. The room was empty, save for his bed, his IV stand, a bed side table on rollers, and various monitoring equipment. It was quiet. Quiet and empty. Slipping off the bed, Kyle immediately felt cold up go up his back. Grabbing his gown at the opening in the back, he held it closed as he walked to the only door in the room.

‘Hey. Anyone out there?’

Odds are Yuu knocked him out cold and there was a cop sitting outside his room. He had a feeling that Yuu and the police weren’t through with their questions, so walking out alone wasn’t gonna happen.

‘Hello?’

Kyle pulled on the door and peeked out into the hallway. It was empty. There was a chair sitting next to his room to the right, and to the left was a nurse’s station with two steaming cups of coffee sitting on the counter top. One even had lipstick marks.

‘Hey!’ His voice vibrated down the hallway. Nothing.

Annoyed and alone, Kyle pushed back into his room and looked around. There was a dresser next to his bed (had it been there before?) and he walked up to it and pulled the top drawer, revealing scrubs. He slipped on the pants and found his shoes underneath the bed. Pulling the gown off, he grabbed a scrub shirt and pulled it over his head as he stepped into his shoes. There was nothing else he could find that belonged to him in the room, no other drawers or hiding places. With an annoyed snort, Kyle turned and walked toward the door out to the hallway again. Pulling on the handle, he opened the door wide and stepped out…

Kyle Evans 14 years ago
The blast of cold sea air hit Kyle almost as painfully as the water that pelted his face.

‘What the -?’

Kyle would have finished that sentence, had he not been thrown forward into a wooden column and then back onto a damp floor, littered with coiled ropes which softened his landing.

‘Shit…’

The movement continued, back and forth, up and down, successfully making him sick when he realized that he was no longer in Nachton Hospital and was in fact…on a boat? Reaching up, he grabbed the side of the sailing boat and pulled himself up as the boat rocked, threatening to throw him down again. Kyle looked over the side and into the darkness. If there was anything in front of him, he couldn’t see it, it was that dark. The wind blew more water into his face, drenching his scrubs.

The boat was large, like Pirates of the Caribbean big, and the sails were flapping against the wind above him. Turning to his left, he took unsteady steps toward the center of the boat and a square room that led to the inside of the ship. Pushing in the only door he could find, Kyle fell forward onto the thankfully dry, but unfortunately hard, wood floors.

The room was dimly lit and littered with various soft silks and pillows. It was clearly a bedroom, but the details looked hazy to Kyle and were generally nondescript. It reminded him of an old memory. He gulped. He was dreaming. Panic began to rise up from the nether regions of his groin all the way up into the soft pulse of a headache that was forming.

Why the panic? His dreams weren’t pleasant and hadn’t been for some time now. Dreams were veiled nightmares waiting to terrorize him. Still sitting on the floor, he waited for it to happen. He never had any control over what happened, but it was always pretty painful or downright disgusting. Blood, mayhem…whatever, just fucking let it happen already. Kyle squeezed his eyes shut and waited.
Grant Thorpe 14 years ago
'Are you a relative?'

Grant Thorpe wasn't really Kyle's uncle, not biologically at least, but he cared for the man as if he was blood, as if he was his son, and Grant felt this bond with every fiber of his being. Employing Kyle had put his own career on the line, and had it not been for his bizarre cult following which had quadrupled the Times distribution numbers, both he and Kyle would be out of a job. Grant was never short of conspiracy theorists, but somehow Kyle hit the heart of Nachton's secret and dark need for the ridiculously plausible. Grant considered this as he stood at the nurses station, waiting for the nurse to either let him by or turn him into the police.

Grant Thorpe raised his eyebrows for a moment before answering that question. 'Yes, I'm his uncle.'

The pause was enough to make the nurse look closely at Grant, sizing him up from the tip of his brown dress shoes to his thick salt and pepper hair.

The nurse stood up, leaned over the counter, and pointed down the hallway. Grant followed her pointy finger and saw two policemen standing in the hallway, talking quietly to one another. With a nod Grant stopped in front of the two men as they stared at him.

'I'm Grant Thorpe, Mr. Evan's uncle.'

One man took out a notepad from his breast pocket and flipped through some of the pages. Coming to one in particular, the cop showed it to the other and they looked back at Grant. Grant had no idea what to say or do next, so he raised his eyebrows and shrugged at them. Just then a cell phone chirped in the breast pocket of the other cop. He took two steps back and answered it as his partner merely continued his appraisal of Grant.

A few moments later the other cop returned and muttered, 'Let's go.' With a grin the cop held his hand toward the door leading into Kyle's room and then the two walked away.

Grant turned and watched them leave, passing the nurses station in a lazy gait. As they turned the corner, they both gave Grant a final look and disappeared. With a shake of his head, he pushed on the door and entered Kyle's room.

Kyle was sleeping; his head turned to his right, away from Grant, and his hands on top of the sheet which was pulled up to his chest. The room was quiet with the only sound being the soft snore coming from the single room's occupant. The scuffing of his shoes were painfully loud as Grant closed the distance between himself and the bed, and with a cursory glance back at the door, he finally reached Kyle.

His face was slightly bruised, no doubt from the 'fall', quote - unquote, he had sustained at the police department. Peering closer, Grant looked at the injury, which really wasn't anything to be honest, but with the threat of brain swelling from a concussion, they had admitted him anyway. Better safe than sorry, he thought to himself as he gently laid a hand on Kyle's wrist to steady his slightly overweight form as he hovered over him. Grant could just barely make out the smell of alcohol when Kyle jerked awake from his touch.
Kyle Evans 14 years ago
The boat continued to rock back and forth, sloshing the watery contents of his stomach to and fro and putting him on the verge of throwing up. Kyle reached up and grabbed his head, trying to ward off the headache that was forming when his stomach demanded attention. Back and forth, he grabbed his belly and then his head till finally he opened his eyes and put his hands on the floor to steady himself.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness finally, but that wasn't what clued him into the fact that he wasn't alone in the room. There was a form on the bed, curled up in fetal position and sobbing. A man knew the sound of a woman in distress - sickens some, enrages others, and there were those that just couldn't take it. For someone as selfish as himself, Kyle's inner knight in shining armor reared its ugly head and he quickly did his best to stand and walk over to the figure on the bed.

There were wisps of black hair and bruised, tanned skin underneath torn silk. The boat rocked savagely again, sending him back down on one knee, thankfully on a silk pillow. The crying female form pushed away, cringing from his proximity.

'Whoa, shh. It's ok.'

Suddenly the door behind him banged, rattling its metal hinges. Kyle jumped and turned toward the noise, thanking God he didn't just shit himself. The woman cringed back off the pillows, into the corner of the room. He could see her dress had stopped being a functional item sometime ago and the blood stains told stories he didn't even want to think about. The banging on the door ceased for a moment and then was kicked in with such force that bits of the door flew at him, knocking him back.

'Wait a minute. Wait!'

A shadowy figure flew into the room with nothing but the soft rustling its cape, but Kyle knew enough to be afraid. Raising his arm, Kyle put himself between the woman and the figure when it passed through him - the tingle of something cold and dead left a thin sheet of sweat on his body. The smell made his stomach turn. Looking back at the woman, Kyle could not longer see her but just the shadowy figure engulfing her, muffling her screams. All at once he lunged at the figure when something behind him grabbed his arm, pulling him violently back.




'No!'

'Kyle! Kyle, it's me. It's Grant!'

Kyle blinked his eyes slowly. A white hospital room. Nothing more, nothing less. Uncle Grant was standing next to him, his hands hovering over him. With a long sigh, Kyle rubbed his face and sat up in his bed.


'Jesus, Grant.' Kyle could feel his hands trembling as he rubbed them over his face again, trying to rub the blurry nightmare from behind his eyes away. 'What happened?'

Grant relaxed and with a chuckle he laid his hand on Kyle's shoulder. 'You fell, supposedly.'

Struggling, Kyle tried to remember. 'I fell?'

'That's what the cops are saying.'

'The cops?'

Grant gave him a strange look. 'You don't remember? The police brought you in after you fell during an interrogation.'

Reaching up, Kyle ran his fingers through his hair, touching his scalp. No bumps there. Running his hand down along his jaw he felt the swollen bump that had formed there. Someone had cold cocked him one. But with what?

Yuu.


'Oh shit. She hit me with a fucking...dictionary I think.'

'Who hit you?'

'That new ADA that came into town, Yuu...something. Christ I don't remember how to pronounce her name. The new DA.'

'Shiroi Yuukaku?'

'Yeah. Yeah.' Shaking his head he tried to remember why she was so pissed. 'Man, she was pissed.'
Grant Thorpe 14 years ago
Grant looked at Kyle as he struggled to remember what he apparently got the crap smacked out of him. His skin was pale, his eyes had huge dark rings and black bags beneath them. Kyle looked nothing like his former self, not even when he was drinking, and the smell of alcohol was clearly on him. Crossing his arms, Grant cleared his throat causing Kyle to look at him.

'You are drinking again.'

It wasn't a question. Kyle rolled his eyes and nodded.

'You're drinking and attacking my staff.'

'I did not attack her!'

'Yes. You did.' With a sigh Grant looked down at the foot of the bed. 'You've been suspended....'

'What? Come on, Grant!'

Holding up his hands, Grant tried to calm Kyle down.
'Listen...Listen! You are suspended until the board can figure something out PR wise, but this is over me, Kyle. I don't know what the hell you were thinking.'

Kyle scowled and pushed back the sheets. Grant watched as he walked toward a dresser in the room and began slamming open drawers, his anger increasing every second. Kyle found a pair of scrubs and threw them back on the hospital bed. The creases on his forehead deepened as he tore off the hospital gown and dressed quickly. Grant's eyes opened wide when he saw Kyle's body. He face was gaunt but that was nothing compared to the rest of him.


'Kyle, are you eating?'
Kyle Evans 14 years ago
Kyle glared at Grant as he pulled on the blue green scrubs he found in the room. His irritation for the situation and his Uncle was growing exponentially.

'What kind of question is that?'

Was he eating? Kyle snorted and imagined his last meal...or at least, he tried to imagine it. A slow throb began to build at the base of his neck and it reached out with its evil little fingers, climbing up into his head. Then it dawned on him. When was the last time he ate? That day? The day before? Kyle picked up the scrub top from the bed and tried to remember.

'Look at yourself, Kyle. Have you?'

His head throb as he looked up at his Uncle again, glaring at the old man.
'Of course I have. I eat every day, Grant.'

Suddenly Grant circled the hospital bed and grabbed Kyle by the arm. Leading him to the small alcove in the corner that had a basin and a mirror, he pushed Kyle in front of the mirror. He refused to look in the mirror and chose to look at Grant.

'Look, Kyle.'

Kyle's eyes moved from his Uncle's face, down to his own fingers handling the scrub top, and then finally he closed his eyes with a deep breath and looked up into the mirror.

The outline of his ribs was just starting to show through his skin. His skin was pale, blotchy, and the veins in his arms were raised; each blue vein looking like speed bumps beneath his skin. He felt his jaw go slack and he stared at himself in the mirror in total disbelief.

Kyle had begun avoiding mirrors, maybe subconsciously, but probably purposely. It was the Starburst that had completely erased his appetite, a side effect he had lived with the past year, but recently things had changed. The headaches. His drinking. The compulsive actions and very un-Kyle-like behavior. Even looking into the mirror now, seeing his fading body, the face that smiled back at him was not his own.

The Other Kyle stood in mirrored pose, but with a small grin on his face. His hands came up as he shrugged at Kyle, and to top it off, a slow wink.

Kyle swallowed as he looked at the Other Kyle. Could Grant see him? Could anyone else see him? The real Kyle? Suddenly his head throbbed painfully, making Kyle wince.

'What's wrong?' Grant asked, but his voice echoed as if in a long tunnel - fading away. 'Do you need me to get the nurse, Kyle?' Kyle opened his eyes again and he looked at Grant.

'No.' But Kyle wasn't answering his Uncle's question. 'No. No.' He watched the Other Kyle tip his head and smile big at his Uncle while Kyle, the real Kyle, stood alone on the other side of the mirror.

'I'm fine, Uncle Grant.' The Other Kyle gave Grant a huge smile. 'Honest injun.'
Kyle Evans 14 years ago
Kyle watched helplessly from the other side of the mirror as the Other Kyle put his hand on his Uncle's shoulder. With a reassuring pat, the Other Kyle smiled at Grant and it sent chills down Kyle's spine.

'Thanks for coming by, Uncle Grant. It really does mean a lot to me. You being family and all.' A smile spread across the Other Kyle's lips, but it didn't quite touch his eyes. It made Grant pause. With a firm grip, the Other Kyle put his right arm around Grant's shoulders and started to turn him away from the mirror, steering him toward the door.

'Sure, Kyle.' Grant resisted for a moment, his eyes squinting slightly. With a breath, he let his nephew move him. 'There's something else. Something I need to tell you.'


'Oh, Uncle Grant?' The Other Kyle's lips pursed tightly for a moment. 'What is it?'

Kyle froze as he watched through the mirror.

‘There’s something I need to tell you. It’s about you. I think it’s important you know now.’

The Other Kyle dropped his hand and he looked down at Grant with soulless eyes.

‘It’s about your father,' Grant said. The Other Kyle let his annoyance show through for a moment as he lifted his hand to interrupt Grant. ‘No, Kyle. Not the father you know. Your real father.’

Kyle had pressed himself up against the mirror to hear Grant. The sound coming through was always just slightly muffled, like he was hearing it through a pane of glass. His terror had suddenly drained away, leaving his already gaunt face more pale and colorless.


‘What? My real father?’

The Other Kyle caught his eye for a moment and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. ‘What do you mean, Grant…my real father?’
Carol 14 years ago
'I'll be just a minute.'

Lothias leaned back and looked above Carol at the towering hospital behind her. His eyebrows crinkled up in confusion again and she smiled sweetly in response to it.

'I'll be in and out, it'll be fine.'

Lothias' apprehension was due to the fact that it was in the middle of the night when D.I. had called her, asking her to check on someone of interest. That this person had been taken to Nachton Hospital directly from police headquarters. He wanted to go in with her, but Carol had to draw the line. Some things he would just be better off not knowing.

'Two minutes. Swear to god.'

Begrudgingly, Lothias crossed his arms and leaned back against Carol's Jeep that was parked in the U shaped parkway of the hospital's side entrance. Reaching up, she tugged on his angry, crossed arms and stood on her toes to kiss him reassuringly. His body melted at the touch of her lips and his arms released to encircle her waist, prolonging the kiss.

'At ease,' she murmured as he finally smiled at her. 'Be right back.'

Turning away from him made her heart ache and she resisted the urge to look back at him as she quickly walked into the hospital. The warmth of his kiss was slowly fading as she began to run down to the elevator bays. Two plain clothes detectives were standing at the elevators, talking quietly to one another when she walked up and signaled for a car. Muted colors, single button, plain suites...she looked at them as an elevator car opened to receive her.

'Detectives.' She smiled as they both looked at her with mild surprise. 'Oh come on,' she said stepping into the elevator. 'Single button? You're screaming cop,' she said with a wink as the doors closed.
Grant Thorpe 14 years ago
Grant wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it. Kyle went from weak, tense, and painfully emaciated to rigid, authoritative and honestly...terrifying. The addict riddled kid he had known since he was barely old enough to talk in full sentences literally faded right before his eyes. Kyle's shoulders pushed back and his chin lifted, giving his posture an almost regal stance, so much so that now Kyle was glaring at him with squinting, suspicious eyes he did not recognize.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Grant instinctively took a step back as Kyle's full attention was on him.


'Well?' Kyle asked him. 'Spit it out.'

He searched Kyle's face, watching his jaw clench with deep fury. The force of his voice rattled him to the point of stuttering.
'Charles Evans...he was a friend of mine, but your mother,' Grant swallowed as Kyle took a step forward, leaning closer to him with an intense stare. 'Your mother was already pregnant when we met her. The father, your father, was in our squad but within a year had been dishonorably discharged.'

Then Kyle did something odd, not that anything up to that point wasn't already incredibly weird, but when Grant paused to gauge Kyle's reaction, he watched him turn and look back at the mirror.


'Really, Uncle Grant,' Kyle asked the mirror,'what happened to him? I'd really like to know.'

As much as Grant did not want to, his eyes flickered to the mirror and he watched Kyle's reaction with awe. He saw it, if only for a moment, the micro-expression of fear that was so painfully the Kyle he had known, looking at him with sullen, sad eyes in almost a plea for help...then it was gone.
Carol 13 years ago
'So is he good then?' Carol was leaning up against the nurse's station counter inquiring about Kyle. 'Why am I here then?'

The nurse shrugged with a murmur and turned away from Carol.


With narrowed eyes, Carol pushed off the counter and walked down the hall to Kyle's room. Nachton hospital, although brand spanking new, just wasn't as cool as Duibne Industries medical tower; no outside, digital patient panels or security entry on any of the rooms, not even a Starbucks in the lobby downstairs. Seattle's Best? Who drinks that, anyway?


Swinging her arms back, she brought them forward with a snap and a pop as she stopped in front of Kyle's room. Leaning in, she could hear muffled voices and happily she leaned in to eaves drop. Sadly it was just too quiet, so with much flourish, Carol pushed into the room.


'What happened to him? I'd really like to know.'


Both men turned away from the alcove sink and mirror and looked at Carol. When recalling this specific moment in time, Carol would always be sure of several things.


Kyle was starving himself to death. He was lanky to begin with, but now the outline of his ribs were beginning to show and his eyes were deep, sunken sockets, the devastating side effects of the medication he was taking for his Eternity addiction was painfully evident. His physical appearance aside, this demeanor and body language immediately put Carol on the defensive, reminding him of his reaction to her being in his apartment, albeit uninvited though she was, which brought her to a third and final conclusion.


Grant Thorpe was terrified of Kyle.


Talk about deer-in-the-fucking-headlights look. Carol had just barely caught Thorpe's reflection in the mirror, but when he turned fully to look at Carol, the relief was as plain as day.


'Miss Hedley.'
Thorpe and Carol were vaguely acquainted, if only through D.I. dealings, she knew him to be Kyle's surrogate Uncle.

'Boys!' Carol tried to maintain her exuberant disposition and smiled at them. 'I'm interrupting something? I can come back?'

'No, no,' Thorpe murmured and bolted for the door as Carol stepped inside the room. 'I was just leaving.'


No you weren't, Carol thought to herself.


'Kyle, we'll talk later.' And with that, Thorpe was gone.

'Oh,' she replied with a curious look at the door as it swung slowly closed. 'That was weird.' Turning back, she was surprised to see that Kyle was standing just in front of her, all cozy in her personal space. Instinctively she put her hand up and pushed back on Kyle's chest. 'Whoa there, cowboy.' Carol cleared her throat and focused in on Kyle's blood shot, blue eyes.

'So what the hell happened to you?'
Kyle Evans 13 years ago
Oh god, no.

Kyle watched as Thorpe beat a hasty retreat before he could divulge the rest of the secret of his biological father and left poor Carol in the room with the other Kyle. He almost thought 'defenseless' but Kyle knew better. If anyone could take this guy, it would be Carol. Still, his heart rate escalated to Indy 500 speeds as the other Kyle practically backed Carol up against the door, blocking the only exit.


The Other Kyle smiled down at little, blond Carol and shrugged innocently.
'One moment I'm enjoying a leisurely day at work, and then I'm in an interrogation room getting the shit knocked out of me by the District Attorney.' Other Kyle narrowed his eyes with a lecherous smile and added, 'Have you met her? She's a cutie.'

Kyle reached up and let his hands hover above Carol's shoulders, looking at her with his bloodshot eyes. This didn't last for long. Carol immediately pushed forward, away from the door, and walked past Kyle to the center of the small hospital room, positioning herself perfectly for the Other Kyle to look at his reflection through the mirror.

'Oddly enough,' the Other Kyle chuckled, 'I don't remember much of anything else.' His doppelganger looked into the mirror and smiled.
Carol 13 years ago
I'm not digging this.

This thought was clear and at the forefront of her mind as Carol pushed past Kyle, further into the room.

'So what's the deal, Kyle? Are you not remembering to eat?'

The Starburst he was taken had every girl's dream side effect. Absolutely zero appetite - none. No cramping, nagging empty stomach, or desperate need for sugary ice cream, no salivating over donuts...zip, nadda and apparently Kyle was suffering from this effect. It was evident in his physique - gone was the charming, yet defined tall drink of water that was Kyle Evans. Who didn't love a tall man? Well, there was TOO tall, but Carol had to admit, Kyle was Han Solo. Roguishly handsome, annoyingly selfish but endearing, always checking his watch, eating when the alarm went off. But now...?


'Are you alright?'
Kyle Evans 13 years ago
Kyle watched as his doppelganger slipped on the scrub top, watching Carol as if she was a piece of meat. It was walking closer to Carol, a smug grin on its face...his face...whatever. The Other Kyle's eyes flicked up quickly to look at him through the mirror and Kyle saw a faint nod of his head.

'Oh Jesus...'

Kyle turned and looked at the backwards room, frantically looking for something to throw at the window, but the heaviest thing was the pillow on the bed. He couldn't let him hurt Carol, it was bad enough what he did to Yuu and the secretary at the paper, but not Carol. Left with very little recourse, Kyle balled up his fists and came at the mirror with everything he had.
Lothias LT Jameson 13 years ago
LT was slumped in the driver's seat of Carol's Jeep, scanning the radio stations, looking for nothing in particular. Every few moments his eyes would flick up to the entrance of the hospital and he consciously tried not to be worried, but unconsciously his eyes moved back and forth, surveying the area. With a deep sigh, he turned the radio off and folded his hands across his stomach.

He wasn't altogether sure why Duibne Industries had asked a secretary to check on a person of interest, but Carol had also mentioned that it was a close friend and that she was his emergency contact. She didn't look him in the eye as she relayed the last fact, but he ignored the misdirection and insisted he drive her. It was her secret to keep; Lord knows he had his own.


Just then a commotion at the entrance of the hospital made him sit up straight in his seat. A dark haired man was quickly exiting as a flurry of nurses followed him. He stopped long enough to turn and say something past them, to someone unseen, further inside. LT opened the door of the Jeep and listened to the voices filter in.


'Damnit, Kyle!'


'Carol, I'm sorry.'


LT quickly exited the Jeep and shut the door at the mention of Carol's name. This was the friend in question, apparently. His senses immediately picked up the scent of alcohol on her friend, the smell pungent and mixed in with over powering, at least to him, body odor. LT's face crinkled up in disgust as the man turned away from Carol who had finally reached the doors.


'Let me take you to D.I. Please Kyle, something is wrong.'


'Carol,' he put his hands on her shoulders and immediately LT bristled at the physical contact, 'I can't. Just trust me on this.'


'Fine.' Carol shoved a bottle of pills at the man and looked past him at LT. 'Just...be careful, Kyle.'


Dropping his hands, Kyle turned to see what she was looking at and saw LT; he then gave Carol a nod and then quickly walked away. The second his feet hit the pavement, he broke out into a run not toward the parking lot, but cutting across to the main road, disappearing in the hedges that lined Nachton Hospital.


Carol stood with a pained look on her face as she watched him leave. Biting down on his bottom lip, LT slowly closed the distance between them and looked down at her.


'Is your friend alright, babe?' He was surprised to hear the sincerity in his own voice and was glad his momentary lapse of jealousy did not taint it. With a deep sigh Carol waited until Kyle was out of sight before she looked at LT.
Carol 13 years ago
Trouble and Kyle had become synonymous in Nachton these days. Really, for the past several years that she's known the alcoholic reporter, he's been nothing but and in trouble. It hurt her to see him suffering, but his actions lately had become more than just 'erratic', they were dangerously criminal. He wasn't the sexual stalker type, not by a long shot, but everything about him lately was either short tempered or sexually aggressive - the latter she had to see to herself, transferring an unusually large amount of money to keep a girl quiet and felony charges thrown out. It wasn't the Kyle Evans she knew, especially when he put his hands on her up in his room. She would have kicked him square in the giblets if his legs had not given out on him, crumpling him to the ground in agony, his hands grabbing furiously at the sides of his head.

But per the norm, Kyle would not let her help him.


Looking back up at Lothias, he gave him a wan smile and shrugged.
'No, he's not, and I'll probably hear about it on the 11 o'clock news.'


With a reluctant sigh, Carol laced the fingers of her right hand with Lothias' left and walked back to the Jeep.

((OOC - Everyone out.))

Continues in The Motel