Sam and Kyle. Kyle is teh dumb.

[x-wildchild.livejournal.com]

(Backdated to Friday morning) After the phone call, Sam confronts Kyle. Typically, Kyle speaks first, thinks thirty-second. And gets the living daylights scared out of him. Never piss off somebody's big brother.



Kyle'd come down from his tree when it got too humid and sticky to put up with the bark on his legs itching and catching on the hairs. It was too sticky to wear pants, one of the few times anyone would ever catch him in shorts, and even these were knee length jean shorts, made from a pair of jeans that got a little too air-conditioned to stay as pants.

So now he was just lying on his stomach by the trunk, notebook open to a page full of notes in his messy scrawl, pen in mouth, and Cliff Notes for Billy Budd next to them. He'd read the stupid book, didn't remember half of it, hated it, and given up. Cliff Notes were going to be his saving grace.

Sam had checked inside the mansion quickly, but he knew that it was too nice a day for the hyperactive teenager to be cooped up indoors. And if there was one place Kyle tended to be when he was outside, it was this particular tree. Sam very studiously did not stalk up in a rage. This called for tactics.

"Hey, Kyle, how y'all doin'?" he asked in as personable a tone as he could manage at the moment. It occurred to him that he -was- jumping to conclusions a bit, but he'd get confirmation one way or the other.

"Huh? Oh! Hey Sam..." Kyle looked up, and grinned. "I'm kicking Billy Budd's boring ass." He indicated the Cliff Notes, and the notebook. "I got permission to hit the Cliffs and everything. They're a study guide, you know? As long as I read the book once, I'm golden."

Sam certainly wasn't going to upbraid Kyle for using Cliffs Notes. They'd gotten him through a rough spot or two himself in high school. They weren't to be used as a crutch, but they were really harmless in a pinch. No, he had much more important things to probably get on Kyle's case about. "Ah took a phone message for ya," he said deceptively casually. "Some girl named Brooke called, wanted ta know if ya were all right..."

The pen in Kyle's hand dropped, though he recovered and caught it before it could hit the ground. "Huh? Um. Aw shit.." He winced, and then looked off over Sam's shoulder. "I, uh.. guess I should've told them I was grounded, but, well, you know, it's embarassing.." He stammered. And prayed to God that she hadn't told Sam anything else.

That guilty look drew Sam's notice like a beacon. "An' why would a ring girl be at all worried about whether ya were all right?" he continued in a softer tone.

"She's, um, a nice person and asks about everyone?" Kyle offered weakly. Shit, he didn't remember giving her the number. Except, hell, it'd been on that thing with the emergency contacts, and why had he put the school's number down?

"Oh, Ah get the impression she's perfectly 'nice'," Sam drawled. "The sorta 'nice' that involves older brothers droppin' ya on your head from about six miles up because ya went an' broke their baby brothers' hearts," he said coldly, jerking Kyle up to press him back against the tree. "Tell me Ah'm wrong." He prayed he was wrong, he really did. Then he'd apologize to Kyle and let him down. But if he was right...well, that was a whole other kettle of fish.

"Jay doesn't need to know!" Kyle said, before thinking, as usual. "I .. I wasn't thinking and it just happened and I don't want to tell him and it'll never ever happen again." He struggled against the grip Sam had on his shirt. "Shit. Shit Shit... shit, why'd she have to go and tell you?" He struggled more, halfway to panicing.

"Oh, she didn't tell me much of anythin'," Sam admitted. "Just enough ta get me suspicious enough ta come out here an' get the truth out of your mouth." Yes, he'd played shamelessly on Kyle's tendency to talk first, think fifth, but right now that was entirely beside the point. "Ya damn right it won't happen again," he vowed, his accent becoming thicker. "'Cuz Ah tol' her how old ya were, an' tol' her not ta call here ever again. An' ya ain't got no choice. Ya gotta tell Jay, or Ah swear ta Almighty God Ah really -will- drop ya on ya damnfool head from six miles up. Prob'ly the head ya were thinkin' with when ya cheated on mah brother."

"I am so NOT telling Jay!" Kyle said, shaking his head hard. "He didn't find out, and he was upset enough that I didn't tell him where the hell I was going in the first place, and no harm, no foul. I'm not pissing him off just out of some kind of freaky confession thing. He doesn't need to know!" And besides, it'd kill Jay and Kyle figured, he was stupid, but he wasn't a total jackass.

"No harm, no foul?" Sam repeated incredulously. Kyle really hadn't figured out just how ragingly angry Sam was at him. "Ya really think that Ah'm just gonna let ya down an' let ya go back ta writin' ya book report an' pretend like everythin's just fine an' dandy?" he asked. "Maybe Ah didn't make myself clear. The choices are tell Jay or find out whether ya healin' factor can take a six mile drop without a parachute." He paused, a truly nasty theory springing full blown into his mind. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand in irritation. "At least tell me y'all were responsible enough ta use a condom," he said bluntly.

"She was on the pill! She said!" Kyle argued. He hadn't been that stupid. He knew about birth control, and even if he hadn't been thinking about it before and during, he sure as hell had after "I asked! I made sure to ask and she had the little ... round... thingy with the pills in it!" He held out his hands, palms and claws out. "I can't .. . I can't use one of those with these!"

Oh, hell. Sam gripped Kyle's shirt tighter and hiked him farther up the tree. "First of all, remind me ta set ya down with mah high school yearbook from Cumberland an' point out ta ya how many girls who tol' their boyfriends 'Ah'm on th' pill' had a toddler sittin' in the audience for graduation." That was if they even had graduated, but that would distract from the point. "On top'a which, ya don' know all th' places a 'ring girl' has been. Y'all ever heard the ol' saw about how ya ain't just sleepin' with a person, ya sleepin' with every person -they've- slept with, an' every person -that- person's slept with?" he hissed. Damnfool sixteen-year-olds not thinking with the right head.

Kyle was not thinking about the baby thing. Not. Thinking. About. It. "I've got a healing factor!" He shook his head and tried to push away from the tree. He couldn't breathe right, not like this and he was damn well not going to flip out on Sam. He'd been stupid enough already. "And so does Jay! We don't get sick! No colds, no flus, and not those either!"

"Let me spell it out for ya, Kyle," Sam said with a grimace. Yes, he was going off half-cocked with this theory, but he figured he'd go talk to Doc MacTaggart first thing, and get the straight answer. "HIV attacks a body's immune system. An' a healin' factor is nothin' but a big turbocharged mutant immune system. Gettin' the picture yet, boy?" he asked harshly.

"Oh, fuck." Kyle said, swallowing heavily. "Oh, shit. I .. didn't.. " He slumped, all the fight going out of him. "I'll... shit. I'm gonna.. " He shut his eyes, face pale under the start of a summer tan. "What do I do now?" he asked, hoping Sam wouldn't say "Go figure it out your damn self."

Sam would have been lying if he'd said his first instinct wasn't to say 'go figure it out your damn self'. Kyle had broken Jay's heart. Or was about to, anyway. "The first thing ya gonna do is go tell Jay," he said quietly. "Then ya gonna go ta Doc MacTaggart an' tell her everythin'." Except Sam was going to go see Moira first. Because if he was wrong about his theory, he didn't want Jay going through the same scare.

"What.. what if?" Kyle started to ask, and then snapped his mouth shut so fast he bit his tongue. "Tell Jay. Right. Have to... " he couldn't not tell Jay. Not .. no. Not that kind of thing, he couldn't. Except how the hell was he going to even start to tell Jay the first part, much less the second. And he'd have to tell him both, because they'd have to get tested. Even if by some miracle Jay didn't try to kill him for the first thing, or fly off crying, or curl up into a heap or rip off his parts and Kyle didn't think those would grow back, he was going to murder him for the second part.

Sam could see the resolve to tell Jay in Kyle's eyes, and let him down none too gently. "Good," he said shortly, shoving the younger boy toward the mansion. After he watched Kyle take a few steps, Sam turned and headed for the boathouse. He just prayed Moira was there, because if he was wrong, then he'd need to head Kyle off before he scared Jay within an inch of his life.