Narrative: Kevin | Monday night
Oct. 8th, 2007 04:58 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsHe had to use it for something, right? It was the only number he knew that wasn't in Scotland
Kevin was hardly happy after his little meeting with Mr. Fred Duncan. That man needed to learn some sort of tact. Kevin was willing to admit that maybe he wasn't the easiest person to deal with. Then again, he was more sullen teenager than hardened criminal and he thought maybe the FBI was forgetting that because of what the charges were against him. It had all made him rather ornery and after Mr. Duncan had walked out of the room Kevin had pointed out to the first real person that interacted with him that he was definitely missing out on his right for one phone call.
They seemed far more willing to consent to the phone call than they were to agree that Kevin's mattress in his holding cell was going to become extinct. Maybe they knew why he had been brought in but not the details? That wouldn't be too surprising, honestly. Still, he kept trying to explain that any contact with his skin and the mattress was toast, the sort you left in the toaster until the smoke alarm went off. They weren't buying it. At least that meant they didn't question whether or not Kevin should be allowed to touch the phone. Plastic and metal, they were his two best friends. Amazing he didn't us phones more often just because he could.
Confronted with actually getting what he wanted was a bit awkward, though. After all, every phone number he could think of either went to a phone in Scotland or the home where he'd grown up. The same home his father had been reduced to ashes in, the same home which no longer held anything even remotely resembling family. Still, he recited the first local number he could think of for the officer dialing on his behalf.
It wasn't until the generic computerized message picked up, reciting the number back at him, that Kevin had realized what phone number he'd had dialed. It was his suite at Xavier's. That meant Jay. Jay whom he'd avoided since that first day. Still, it was the only number he knew and Kevin cleared his throat after the tone buzzed.
"Uh, hey Jay, it's Kevin. Didn' really thin' this through. Ah went and demanded mah one phone call but this is tha only numbah Ah know ain't Scotland. Ya got tha suite ta yerself fer, well, Ah dunno how long. Ah been arrested by tha FBI fer my father's murder. Figures, huh? Make mahself go back to that place an' end up arrested fer a warrant Ah didn' even know was out fer me. Ah did it, too. Jus' so we're clear. Didn' mean to, but Ah did. Maybe nex' time you'll think again, 'fore touchin' me, Ah mean. Anyway, Ah gotta git. Holdin' cell, ain't safe ta be 'round people, all that. See ya, 'f Ah git out and all."
Kevin hung up, eyes screwed up as he stared at the phone. The guy who had dialed for him and walked away, giving the illusion of privacy, came back and nodded off in the direction of the holding cells. With only a sigh Kevin nodded and let the guy grab him by the arm, as uncomfortable it made him despite the five layers of clothing on that part of his arm. He was led off down the hall and thought perhaps his judgment on how good any day was going to turn out was really shot all to hell.
Kevin was hardly happy after his little meeting with Mr. Fred Duncan. That man needed to learn some sort of tact. Kevin was willing to admit that maybe he wasn't the easiest person to deal with. Then again, he was more sullen teenager than hardened criminal and he thought maybe the FBI was forgetting that because of what the charges were against him. It had all made him rather ornery and after Mr. Duncan had walked out of the room Kevin had pointed out to the first real person that interacted with him that he was definitely missing out on his right for one phone call.
They seemed far more willing to consent to the phone call than they were to agree that Kevin's mattress in his holding cell was going to become extinct. Maybe they knew why he had been brought in but not the details? That wouldn't be too surprising, honestly. Still, he kept trying to explain that any contact with his skin and the mattress was toast, the sort you left in the toaster until the smoke alarm went off. They weren't buying it. At least that meant they didn't question whether or not Kevin should be allowed to touch the phone. Plastic and metal, they were his two best friends. Amazing he didn't us phones more often just because he could.
Confronted with actually getting what he wanted was a bit awkward, though. After all, every phone number he could think of either went to a phone in Scotland or the home where he'd grown up. The same home his father had been reduced to ashes in, the same home which no longer held anything even remotely resembling family. Still, he recited the first local number he could think of for the officer dialing on his behalf.
It wasn't until the generic computerized message picked up, reciting the number back at him, that Kevin had realized what phone number he'd had dialed. It was his suite at Xavier's. That meant Jay. Jay whom he'd avoided since that first day. Still, it was the only number he knew and Kevin cleared his throat after the tone buzzed.
"Uh, hey Jay, it's Kevin. Didn' really thin' this through. Ah went and demanded mah one phone call but this is tha only numbah Ah know ain't Scotland. Ya got tha suite ta yerself fer, well, Ah dunno how long. Ah been arrested by tha FBI fer my father's murder. Figures, huh? Make mahself go back to that place an' end up arrested fer a warrant Ah didn' even know was out fer me. Ah did it, too. Jus' so we're clear. Didn' mean to, but Ah did. Maybe nex' time you'll think again, 'fore touchin' me, Ah mean. Anyway, Ah gotta git. Holdin' cell, ain't safe ta be 'round people, all that. See ya, 'f Ah git out and all."
Kevin hung up, eyes screwed up as he stared at the phone. The guy who had dialed for him and walked away, giving the illusion of privacy, came back and nodded off in the direction of the holding cells. With only a sigh Kevin nodded and let the guy grab him by the arm, as uncomfortable it made him despite the five layers of clothing on that part of his arm. He was led off down the hall and thought perhaps his judgment on how good any day was going to turn out was really shot all to hell.
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