Kyle Sutton (
akillersmile) wrote in
undergrounds2016-01-12 03:06 pm
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Entry tags:
wake up
(1)
(2)
(3)
(4)
Kyle was new to the area. Hell, he was new to the country. As easy as it was to pick up the basics - public transit, prices, slang - he was having a harder time learning the small and intertwining streets in his neighborhood. He felt almost constantly lost, which made him almost constantly anxious about knowing his exits and whether he would ever find his damn AWOL C.O. he'd come to find in the first place.
It's one such night, disoriented on the way back to his shared flat from a quiet drink at a pub, that he stumbles into something he thought he left behind. Kyle knows what he's looking at the moment he sees it. The vampire feeding on the teenage boy who seems near unconsciousness.
"Hey!" He yells without thinking, waving his arms as if trying to chase a coyote off from a stray stash of food. The vampire, in a stroke of luck for Kyle or perhaps to keep his face hidden, decides to take off rather than engage in a conflict, dropping the now passed out boy into the street. Kyle runs over, ripping off his shirt to apply pressure to the wound on the kid's neck, then looking around for someone - anyone - nearby. "Hey, I could use some help here."
It's one such night, disoriented on the way back to his shared flat from a quiet drink at a pub, that he stumbles into something he thought he left behind. Kyle knows what he's looking at the moment he sees it. The vampire feeding on the teenage boy who seems near unconsciousness.
"Hey!" He yells without thinking, waving his arms as if trying to chase a coyote off from a stray stash of food. The vampire, in a stroke of luck for Kyle or perhaps to keep his face hidden, decides to take off rather than engage in a conflict, dropping the now passed out boy into the street. Kyle runs over, ripping off his shirt to apply pressure to the wound on the kid's neck, then looking around for someone - anyone - nearby. "Hey, I could use some help here."
(2)
Post traumatic stress is never an easy thing. Although Kyle never receives full on hallucinations like a couple of his brothers had struggled with, the traumas continue to sneak up on him occasionally, clouding his judgment and ratcheting his anxiety into high gear. This time, it's in the middle of his run. He's not even sure if it was a scent or a sound that set him off. Maybe the combination. Whatever it is, it forces him to stop and focus, to breathe through it.
He takes a seat on the nearby bench, legs shoulder-width apart, forearms on his knees, eyes closed, head down to hide his face. His mandated counselor told him it was the most efficient breathing position. Now he uses it to relax, to try to force the body working against him to calm down and get back to the present with him. And he probably looks troubled, if not a little crazy, to the passersby, but that's rarely been a concern for him.
He takes a seat on the nearby bench, legs shoulder-width apart, forearms on his knees, eyes closed, head down to hide his face. His mandated counselor told him it was the most efficient breathing position. Now he uses it to relax, to try to force the body working against him to calm down and get back to the present with him. And he probably looks troubled, if not a little crazy, to the passersby, but that's rarely been a concern for him.
(3)
Vampires are real. Kyle learned about that some time ago, when Cooper came to his hospital room and gave him a reason to live and fight through the Fever. He'd been trained in that specialty, hunting, and it had been most of his tour in South Africa. What unnerved him was learning that they were everywhere. The problem wasn't contained to an area, as he'd been lead to believe, but the creatures sprawled in various corners of the world, thriving on the suffering and death of humans. So, yeah, he took it upon himself to do something about it.
Kyle has a split lip, a couple seriously bruised ribs, a swollen and bruised cheek, and some bloody scratches on both an arm and his neck from the fight. But you should see the other guy. The vampire lays dead on the ground, a broken pool cue shoved through his heart. All things considered, Kyle feels like he got off pretty well.
To the casual observer, it looks like a bar room brawl gone bad. Which is why, when he hears someone behind him, Kyle tenses and silently curses in his mind. The soldier lifts his hands to either side of him in a gesture of surrender, showing he's unarmed. "It's not what it looks like."
Kyle has a split lip, a couple seriously bruised ribs, a swollen and bruised cheek, and some bloody scratches on both an arm and his neck from the fight. But you should see the other guy. The vampire lays dead on the ground, a broken pool cue shoved through his heart. All things considered, Kyle feels like he got off pretty well.
To the casual observer, it looks like a bar room brawl gone bad. Which is why, when he hears someone behind him, Kyle tenses and silently curses in his mind. The soldier lifts his hands to either side of him in a gesture of surrender, showing he's unarmed. "It's not what it looks like."
(4)
Hoping to settle in faster than the average, Kyle's out running errands throughout the day. He's picking up some new clothes, having arrived with only his backpack's worth of stuff, and groceries for the apartment. At the same time, he pops in to occasional shops to apply for jobs. Sweeper, clerk. Anything with decent pay at a local joint who will accept an American with a military background in a questionable economy.
[Feel free to bump into him shopping, or be in a shop when he asks for work, or anywhere in between. Fairly open.]
[Feel free to bump into him shopping, or be in a shop when he asks for work, or anywhere in between. Fairly open.]
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Without thought, in a flash, his opposite hand seizes her wrist, pulling her arm away from him and his other hand tenses as if ready to spring into action. An automated response. Kyle releases her within the second it takes to even react and pulls both his hands back to his chest, open palmed, looking at her with an apologetic smile completely incongruous with the anxiety of a moment before.
"Sorry! I'm sorry. You surprised me," he offers with his American accent, "Is your wrist okay?"
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"Yeah, fine." A human might have been a little bruised, but any slight injury he might have done her has already healed. She frowns, and demands, "Are you?"
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He lifts a hand to casually demonstrate: breathe in, breathe out. It's infinitely easier for Kyle to push away all the potential bad thoughts and remain in the present when he's talking to someone. Especially an attractive girl who's roughly his age. Flashing her a charming smile, he glances at her bag. "Sorry to interrupt your lunch. Most important meal of the day."
He knows that's not the saying. The point is for her to correct him, a red herring to distract her from the panic he was enduring a moment before.
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Alex isn't out to make new friends. So far, she's even kept her distance from the other members of the pack. But right now she's bored, and whether she likes to admit it or not, she's a little bit lonely. This guy is nice so far, and he could be kind of interesting, so she decides to keep talking to him instead of walking away.
"Isn't that breakfast?" She pulls out what's left of her sandwich. "I'd offer you some, but, uh." There's no milk or juice in the bag. She forgot to buy anything to drink. "I think I have to go back to the store."
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"One of the two," he agrees. Then he glances at her grocery bag. "You forget something?"
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"Yeah, a few things." She grimaces. "I'm the worst at shopping."
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"I could use some groceries too. You get what you need and I can say sorry for grabbing you."
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"Sure," she says after a pause, looking at him again and mustering up a small smile.
The bag says Sainsbury's on it, so she can't exactly lie about where she's been. But she points to a different one, in the opposite direction of the one she usually goes to. It's a bit of a longer walk, but a few more blocks are worth it if it makes it harder for this guy to track her down later. "The store's a couple blocks that way."
And that's when she remembers that neither of them have introduced themselves yet. "I'm Alex, by the way."
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He nods at her pointing, pushing himself off the bench and immediately turning to face her. He offers a hand to help her stand, or for the introduction, whatever she prefers. "Kyle Sutton. The Sainsbury's, right? I know the one. Not too far from where I'm staying."
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"Nice to meet you." It comes out sounding a bit practiced. She knows it's the polite thing to say, but polite greetings aren't something she does a lot of. She has no clue what to say after that, so she simply lets go of his hand and starts walking, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly awkward. What were you supposed to talk about with a guy who had just had a panic attack and who you couldn't tell a single true thing about your life? The weather? She didn't know what to say about the weather and she really didn't want to talk about it anyway.
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"Bread and eggs," he says randomly, before the silence can stretch for too long. "Those are the basics you should always have in your apartment. Noodles, if you can cook. Otherwise Spaghetti-Os work. Fruit's good. Salt, if you don't have any. Chicken, beef. Do you like fish? Fish is good. Smells though."
He glances sideways to her. Sensing her apparent shyness, Kyle's happy to pick up the slack and do more talking, but he's not about to steamroll her. He'll pause, ask small questions, and give her time to contribute. Besides, it's a subtle way of getting to know her by starting with innocuous things.
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"Huh?" It takes her a moment to process what he's saying. "Fish is okay." She prefers red meat, but she doesn't know how to cook it. So far, she's mainly been surviving on take-out and things that require only the minimum amount of preparation. "I can't cook though. At all."
She glances sideways at him as they pass by a busy tube stop, wondering if it might save her a lot of trouble to just lose him in the crowd. She ultimately decides against it, though, and sticks by his side. "I made a list, actually. I was gonna get bread and I forgot."
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The clarification is superfluous, in the hopes of getting a smile out of her. Kyle slows his talking, worried he's speaking too fast and leaving her behind. Maybe it's the energy, maybe she's distracted. Whatever it is, he chills out even more. "Don't eat Pop Tarts though. No matter what anyone says. It's not worth it."
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The remark about Pop Tarts almost gets a smile out of her. She's had a few stale Pop Tarts, and she knows exactly how terrible they can be. "Yeah, I learned that the hard way."
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"How'd you do with the toast?" He asks teasingly, trying to gauge her cooking skills.
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Finally, they arrive at the store. Alex walks through the door and holds it open behind herself for him. She's walked past this Sainsbury's a few times, but hasn't actually been inside before. At least it's laid out almost exactly like the one she usually frequents so it shouldn't be hard to find anything - she can easily pretend this is her usual store that she always shops at.
It's second nature to quickly scan the room for obvious threats, and, as usual, there don't seem to be any lurking terrors hiding among the produce.
She looks over at Kyle as she tries to remember everything on her list. "I definitely need bread. And something to drink."
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"What kind of something? Juice, milk, water, soda?" He asks idly, incentive for her to follow along with him. Kyle begins browsing the vegetables, wondering if that's too advanced for her since most usually involve cooking. Maybe fruit instead.
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"Juice and milk. A little variety doesn't hurt, right?" She did remember to buy a bag of carrots and some lettuce, figuring she could take a shot at making a salad with those and the few bits of vegetables she has left over from her last shopping trip. In theory, it's almost impossible to mess up making a salad.
She can't remember the rest of her list, but she can't think of anything else she urgently needs. "I think that's it. Beverages and bread."
She starts walking towards the back wall, looking for the cooled shelves where the juice and milk would be kept. Turns out they're on the other side of the store, and she quickly makes a course correction, trying to cover up her mistake.
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He catches up to Alex as she makes a beeline for the back, then course corrects. Without missing a beat, he picks up pack of chicken from the back wall and drops it in his basket. "Thanks for remembering I need chicken."
Kyle stops her halfway to her destination, grabbing a dozen eggs from the shelf and offering them to her. He then carefully drops a dozen into his own basket before continuing on towards the drinks. Which is conveniently located near the breads. First thing's first.
"Orange, apple, grapefruit, cranberry?" He asks as he steps up beside her to admire the many varieties of juice. "It's an important decision."
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When he hands her eggs, she takes them, not quite sure why he's giving them to her but willing to accept that maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to buy them.
She stops in front of the drinks, and frowns at them determinedly. "Orange, definitely."
She drops a carton of it into her basket and then heads for the bread, searching for a loaf of whole wheat. Of course the only one left is all the way at the back of the top shelf, so there's nothing for it but to climb. But even standing on the lowest shelf, her fingertips can just barely touch the edge of the plastic wrapping. Scowling, she tries to inch the bread forward by the wrapping until she can grab it.
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Instinctively knowing that she'll say no if he offers his help, Kyle sets down his basket and walks up behind her. He plants his hands on either side of her waist and lifts her a few inches before she can argue. It's a good way of learning more about her, the way she reacts to something like this. He has a bad feeling he's going to get hit for it, but what the hell else was he supposed to do?
When she either grabs the bread or fights him, he'll immediately lower her back to the ground, release her, and step back to give her her own space again.
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"What the hell?" she demands, stepping back at the same time he does.
It suddenly hits her that those were obviously trained moves she was using, he's going to realize it, and he's going to want to know why someone who looks so girl-next-door has combat training and is ready to use it at the drop of a hat. She should have just shoved him or slapped him. By the time she finally comes up with self-defense class as an excuse, she's already grabbed her basket and started off down the aisle away from him.
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He watches her go for a second as his mind races to catch up. She's a professional of some kind, military or otherwise. She probably has some level of Post Traumatic, something he knows all too well. Kyle silently curses himself for misjudging as he jumps up from the bottom shelf to snatch the loaf of bread she wanted. He then quickly picks up his basket and dashes after her.
When he finally catches up to her, Kyle holds out the bread and offers a reassuring expression, neutral other than the hint of a smile. "I think you forgot this."
He gets having secrets. There's a time and a place to pry and this is neither. Besides, he understands how much it sucks to be put on edge and how much it helps to have someone to help keep things normal. That's practically what she did for him earlier, on the bench. Hopefully he can return the favor.
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"I gotta go." She keeps moving towards the registers. "I have to get home soon."
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"Hey, come on. I'm sorry I touched you, okay? But that doesn't mean you have to cut ties." He keeps his voice as quiet as he can for the distance between them, attempting to keep her situation as private as possible for the public space. Kyle avoids touching her, instead trying to move in front of her to cut her off and force her to pause for a second.
"I know what it's like. Let me give you my number. And then you can call when you want to learn how to cook, or you need to go shopping again, or if you ever want to talk about it. But we don't have to. You want to talk about why you almost kicked my ass in a grocery store? Cool. You want to talk about tater tots? We can do that instead. And who doesn't like to talk about tater tots?"
He flashes a halfhearted grin at the end, trying to lighten the mood.
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let me know if you'd like me to edit
nah you're good! let me know if you want changes
s'all good
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