Werewulf part 6
#6 of Werewulf
So here is part 6! finally i know, i've just been busy and didnt want to post everything so close and stuff but here it is! haha
Chapter 6.
Kyle had just sat there most of the night, it was around two in the morning when he'd finally got home, and it was about five when he finally felt he could stand without the room spinning. He had gotten blood on the coat, his shirt and pants, his mom had actually cleaned some off the floor before she tried to clean him up a little, all the while not speaking a word, face devoid of emotion so she wouldn't cry. It took quite a few tissues before she gave up and got a wet paper towel, the tissues just sticking to the blood and just breaking apart.
It was even more depressing when the fact that this was the most interaction they had shared in a while dawned on Kyle. She was fixing him up from the abuses of a drunken stepfather. It wasn't family dinner, it wasn't a conversation, it wasn't a special family event or even church, it was medical care. She didn't even try and cheer him up aside from her lie.
"It's going to be okay Kyle," she had said. It was the biggest lie he had ever heard. Unfortunately Kyle was just happy she wasn't taking Scott's side.
When he finally stood up he dragged himself up the stairs to his room, it was exactly how he left it when he had retrieved the knife. It was weird that somehow the world could be so unchanged by his misery. There was no way it could be of course; but in retrospect it was an odd concept to wrap his mind around. He was just being beaten for school spirit and a drunk's random comment. He was just getting yelled at about his blood and his father. He was getting the blood from his body splattered on his clothes from just speaking, and the room just a few stairs away was in no way effected. The beatings couldn't move sheets or make the room darker; the screams couldn't crack the windows or rip open drawers. The rom remained untouched by its owner's miseries.
Kyle didn't cry, he didn't make any faces, his jaw hurt too much. He carefully removed the coat and his shirt, the pants coming next as he set out his stuff for the rapidly approaching dawn that wasn't bloodied. He had about three hours of sleep and then school would start, but he knew he really only had about two because he would need to shower. It would hurt, but maybe he could at least try and make himself look normal.
Carefully, like an old man, he lowered himself into bed, trying to find a way to sit back without his face feeling like it was on fire, his head was in a hydraulic press, or his lips bleeding all over the pillow. It wasn't easy or comfortable, but exhaustion finally took over and he fell to sleep.
~~~~
It was all a mess and the shower did very little to help, if anything it made things worse by re-opening the busted lips and mad his face look redder. His right cheek was blown up to an almost comical size; his eye fat but thankfully not going black or blue. His lips were the worst though, they looked like the freaking Joker had taken one if his knives and carved zigzags into the soft flesh; they only stopped bleeding when the blood hardened and his lips looked bloody.
Kyle sighed heavily, he wanted to brush his teeth to get the taste of blood out of his mouth, but he didn't want to mess up his lips anymore. He dried his hair again and walked out of the bathroom to change. Today was going to suck, either Quinn or a teacher would try to get him to tell what happened, most likely both actually, and he needed to lie so that he and his mother had a roof over their heads. The beatings were like rent.
The boy carefully put on his clothes, it was still about an hour before the bus would come, but he didn't see any point in trying to fall back to sleep. He eyed the blood stained fur lined jacket with a sort of sad contempt. It was the only jacket he had now, and he would have to clean it. Why? Because his blood was all over it...
He brought it to the bathroom, not wanting to wake up Scott by chance. He wasn't exactly sure if he could control himself if Scott started antagonizing him this morning. He would most certainly mention Kyle's face if he saw it, maybe some douche comment about not knowing his own strength, or Kyle to man up and he wasn't even trying.
The thoughts made his blood boil. The water in the sink was already warm thanks to the shower he took so all he needed was a wash cloth. His blood was only located around the neck and on the inside fur lining. It must have been opened when his lips were dripping because there was quite a bit on the inside.
'This shouldn't be a normal activity I know how to act out.' Kyle thought to himself, 'Shouldn't I be wondering how to remove the blood from my clothes? Shouldn't my mother have been concerned and cleaned him up, or at least put him to bed before she went himself?' Kyle cringed. The man who fucking did this to her child was in the bed with her for Christ sakes.
After a while the wash cloth was no longer red. Kyle pressed dry towels into the jacket to get most of the moisture out; a big jacket was useless in a windy fall day if it was wet. Kyle still had about forty five minutes until the bus when the jacket was adequately clean and dry; the process didn't take all that long. Not wanting to stay home he decided to walk to school, it wasn't that far too be perfectly honest and he would get to grab a coffee or something from the Dunkin' Donuts across from the school if he walked.
Wallet and phone in his pockets, backpack on, he left the still quiet house, his mother's obsessive cleaning made it almost look peaceful, but in Kyle's eyes the lack of any evidence was more off-putting then leaving it as was would have been.
The cold air was mercifully calm that morning as Kyle began to walk. He still felt self-conscious about his face as he thought about excuse after excuse and reason after reason for his appearance. It was like walking down a road of staring people, Kyle felt like every home owner in town was at their windows waiting there just to judge him as he passed, to conjure up stories of the Lane's only son.
He threw up the hood of the fur coat in frustration. He hated it when he felt stared it; it made him feel like a freak. He unfortunately started to resent people who judged him, he regretted it every time because only after the fact would he realize he wasn't being watched, but he resented those people who live soft cushy lives and didn't have to deal with any of the crazy ass shit that was his basic day.
Thankfully he had his music, his own personal escape. Whenever he needed a distraction from life and his troubles he went to music, it just set a mood, or agreed to his, or tried to cheer him up. Music was the one thing that was never wrong to Kyle.
BEEP!
Kyle nearly jumped out of his skin; the car horn to his right baking through his headphones and scared the shit out of him. Kyle was just happy he hadn't fallen on his ass when he saw none other than Duke driving a beat up looking pick-up. It was big and a dark green colour. Duke had the passenger window down and was saying something Kyle couldn't quite make out over the roar of Metallica in his ears. Kyle was pissed; he didn't want crazy company right now.
"What!?" He demanded, ripping the ear phones from there place, quiet of the fall morning flooding in, "What do you want now? I'm not in the mood for any games this early! Just go away!" He didn't mean to yell, he didn't even want too, it was just the raw emotions left unused bursting forth. He regretted it and yet he didn't, he wasn't angry at Duke, but he was angry, he wanted to just keep screaming until his throat was raw, and then scream some more. He wanted to destroy something, and Duke was all that was available.
The other boy's face dropped from one of excitement to one of extreme hurt and sadness. What made it worse was his submission, "I'm...I'm sorry, I didn't know you weren't a morning person," he lifted a red mug up from is cars console, "Want some coffee?"
"Seriously what's your deal! Why are you so nice to me?!" Kyle burst, walking away from the car. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair! Kyle thrust the ear buds back in and drowned out whatever Duke had to say in music. When he was a kid Kyle had always wanted to be like his dad. His dad was simple, kind, well loved, smart, and always had a smile; and that damn accident took it all away. For a short while after Kyle remembered he thought that his time had come to mimic his father, to be there for his mom and keep everything running smoothly. But he wasn't anything like the man. He was nine when it happened for Christ sakes.
Rage fuelled Kyle's steps. He remembered how their lives had fallen apart, how Kyle had become depressed and had felt he failed his dad; how he couldn't keep him mom safe and happy and comfortable. Then Scott showed up like some sort of saviour, how everything had actually improved those first few weeks, how bills were paid and food was in the fridge and how his mom had started to smile again...
Kyle was turned around by a large hand, Duke in his face, lips moving, the lyrics to 'Master of Puppets,' being heard. Duke took out the headphones in frustration, keeping Kyle still and in place despite his protests.
"Let go! I don't need this right now."
"What the hell happened to your face?" Duke asked with sincerity, "Fuck man that looks like it... your lips is still bleeding," he pointed out.
Kyle put a finger to his lower lip, it came back a bit red, "Son of a bitch," he cursed.
"What happened?" Duke asked again, "Come on, take a seat for a moment." He started leading Kyle to his truck.
"No, I don't need your therapy or your coffee or your fucking strange obsession with me," Kyle shook off the hand, "Goodbye."
"Oh no you don't," Duke turned him around again, "I won't feel right if I don't help a little; friends do that sort of thing you know" he added with a little grin.
"I've known you for two days; we aren't exactly inseparable despite what you might think," Kyle snapped. Again he really regretted it, he didn't mean it, he as just in a foul mood for obvious reasons. "Wait no; I've known you a little more than a single day! I've been in group projects with complete losers longer! Our 'friendship' history entails you with a knife chasing me, you breaking into my house, and you sending me after a god forsaken flag at night with a shitty flashlight!"
Duke's grip lightened on the boy, he looked down on the ground Kyle assumed with a hint of shame. "I'm sorry Kyle. I'm not very good at this stuff; social graces aren't my strong suit," he let go of Kyle's shoulders and walked back to his car, "I'm not going to force you to be my friend Kyle," he opened the passenger door and waited by it.
The two stared at each other with terrifying expressions of emotion on their faces. Duke's with hope, that powerful drive to wish for the best that often fails to prepare for the worst, he was clearly unprepared for such a turn and could only wait and see how Kyle would react to such plainness.
Kyle stared back with shame; he had attacked one of the only people who openly cared about him. In truth Kyle didn't understand why or even care, it was really just nice to not be treated as replaceable. Duke and Quinn were all he had, he didn't even have his mother in that respect.
"I-is the coffee hot?" Kyle asked weakly. It was a pathetic return; clear to any onlooker he was getting in the car regardless. He just wanted to stick by his guns a bit longer.
Duke smiled and nodded, "Nice and fresh, cream and sugar too."
Kyle walked to the car, he felt like shit for treating Duke that way; he didn't deserve the drinks or the kindness. Duke put his school bag in the back and got into the driver's seat. There was only one mug of coffee, but there was conveniently a second mug, Kyle rolled his eyes as Duke split the drink, "I already added a few creamers, is that okay?"
"It's fine, thanks," Kyle took his own mug; it was black with no real defining features. Careful to avoid his lip he fountained a bit of the drink. The mug was boring but the coffee inside was delicious! "This is really good," he admitted, "What coffee do you buy?"
"I have no idea actually," Duke stated, shuffling through stuff in the back seat. His car was clean in the front, but there was a growing pile of assorted crap in the back. Kyle saw some water jugs, cereals, a few plates, flares, two fire starter logs, and assorted papers floating around. "Sorry about the mess...aha!" he pulled out a first aid kit. It was small, but it was still a first aid kit. "I think there is some kind of disinfectant thing in here somewhere," he grinned sheepishly,
Kyle nodded, taking another fountained sip, "Duke, can I ask you something?"
"You mean something besides that?" he answered automatically, like he needed to be a smart ass even if he didn't get to laugh at the results. "If I can ask you about your face in return," he clarified rather bluntly, putting the contents of a little bottle of disinfectant on some gauze.
"Fair enough," Kyle took another sip of the godly brew, "What's the deal with your fascination with me? I mean, you legit-ably border on the creepy. It's nice to have someone care don't get me wrong!" he fumbled, "I just...I don't understand why you think it's so important to be my friend. You haven't even been to the school yet to see the other kids. Plenty of them are better trust me."
"BUT, not many of them will do much more then try and suck up and benefit themselves. Jocks will want me as a friend ONLY because I'm big and a possible threat." He handed Kyle the gauze and put the first aid kit away in the back, "Girls will probably just want to get close to me for the sake of wanting a shot with me. The little guys will avoid me because I fall under the standard of big stuck up jock, and so on," he answered bluntly, going off the list with no emotions for any of the groups, not contempt, not pity or a smile, nothing; like he was just acknowledging them but not having any opinions about them, even though he was being so judgmental.
Kyle couldn't help but smile, "You are a bit full of yourself I see."
"It's the same everywhere we go, my family that is. Different school with a different mascot; same people no matter what...Same damn problems. You on the other hand straight up challenged me," he grinned, starting the truck, "It's refreshing not to have people either clamouring all over me or ignoring me entirely. So now, what did happen?" he asked seriously, pulling away from the curb.
Kyle sighed, making the coffee swirl around in his mug to distract himself; he didn't want to freak out again, "My step dad happened."
Duke slammed on the brakes making Kyle spill a bit of coffee and the car behind them beeped in aggravation, "What the hell?! Explain, now! Why would he do that?" Duke demanded, rummaging through the back again and bringing paper towels up front.
Kyle watched the car behind them give up beeping and drive away. He wiped his shirt clean of the coffee as much as he was able. "He was just drunk and pissed about nothing okay? I don't want to talk about it." In truth Kyle didn't want to mention his real dad, but he also didn't want to tell Duke he was partially to blame.
Duke was in genuine shock, but it quickly passed and he just seemed furious as he huffed all the way to school throwing in, "It's not right." Or, "What kind of man."
Kyle was quiet the rest of the trip, the disinfectant burning at his lip, but thankfully it actually did stop bleeding; the lip itself looking slightly less red. Still, he had a blown up cheek and a few red spots but Quinn might be able to fix it he assured himself. He hated the stares he got from kids when Scott wasn't sober and struck everywhere, unfortunately Kyle counted it a blessing that Scott would usually just beat him and leave his arms or stomach colourful with bruises.
They pulled up to the high-school, the buses probably weren't even half done with their runs at the time, but the doors were still open.
"So you want to just go to the cafeteria before homeroom?" Kyle asked, getting out of the car and opening the back door for his bag, "There isn't much to do before first period to be honest."
"I don't even know my homeroom yet," Duke replied dully. His mind seemed elsewhere, it was disconnected and cold.
Kyle looked up at the strange boy. He hadn't made a move to even get out of the car. His eyes were focused straight ahead in a distant kind of way.
"I hope the principal's office is open then; Mrs Delan will have your schedule," Kyle answered, "You coming dude?"
"I uh...how much time until first period?" He asked.
"Well, like forty five minutes or so. Why?"
"I left my stuff at home actually," he said with a big embarrassed grin, covering his face with a massive hand, "I knew I freaking forgot something, I didn't think it was my whole bag though."
"You sure it's not buried in the back some place?" Kyle asked, only half joking.
"I'm sure, I'll be back. You want more coffee?"
Kyle made a confused face, he was socially...inept, but he knew this was the part where a friend offered to take the other with him. Still, it wasn't the first time he had been ignored; it just seemed out of place with Duke, a fluke almost. "Umm, I'm okay, but thanks."
"You want more," Duke answered, shutting the passenger door and holding out a hand through the window, "Mug please."
Kyle handed it over and watched Duke drive away back the way they'd come, "Never a dull moment," Kyle breathed, putting in his headphones again, realizing the songs were still playing uninterrupted, "Don't die on me please batteries..."