The Imperial Warrior

Chapter 7- South of the Border

"Olivia?" Kyle's vision blurred and the world swirled around him. He thought he saw Oli towering over him but it couldn't be. What would Oli be doing on the bridge at such an odd hour? His throat burned as if he had just drunk a shot of vinegar. He couldn't open his eyes properly and the world was enveloped in darkness. He tried to get up but even that simple effort drained the life out of him.

"No, don't get up." The voice definitely belonged to Olivia. With another grunt, he opened his eyes. There she stood, frown lines on her forehead and arms crossed; she was still a vision. Her icy blonde hair was wet and her shirt was dripping too.

"Oli?" He tried to speak but he couldn't. There was a weird sensation in his mouth until he started coughing. He put a hand to his mouth only to see that it came away a muted red. He was coughing water and blood. Now, his day was surely complete.

"You fell." He had almost forgotten Oli was still there. The events of the morning came rushing back at him. Panic was just about to seize him when she continued talking, "Do you remember what happened, Kyle?"

Her voice was so tender, he was sure he didn't deserve to be spoken to with so much gentleness. Not after being the monster he was, not after everything. He quickly wiped away the blood on his jeans before Olivia could see it. He needed to get away from her, he would end up hurting her too. He would end up hurting them all.

"You shouldn't come close, Oli. It's not safe."

"Not safe? Kyle, you must have hit your head when you fell."

"When I what?"

He looked down at saw that he was soaked too, at the same time he realized that he had no idea as to where he was.

"You are in my house, Kyle. Don't worry, it's safe here."

He looked around and realized he was indeed in someone's house, by a fireplace to be exact. The warmth of the fire a stark contrast against his now shivering body. He saw Oli's hand stretched out, handing him a towel. He looked at her and for a second all he could think was, god, she is beautiful.

She wasn't beautiful in an obvious way, she wouldn't catch your eye when you entered a room but if you happened to come across her face, there was little you could do to look away.

Her blue eyes were beckoning him to her and he wondered if she saw the fear on his face. He didn't know if he was going to be able to hold himself together to be close to her so he just stood up took the towel from her hand and stared at the fire. There was something about looking into a fire that always hypnotized him. He thought of Anya, how just a week ago, they were by his fireplace talking as if they had all the time in the world. He flinched at the thought of her now.

"Why aren't you at school?" He asked Oli remembering that he had run from there in the middle of the day.

"School's over, Kyle."

"Wait what?"

Oli seemed visibly worried now. Kyle suddenly had this urge to give her a hug just to wipe that worry from her face. He didn't deserve to be looked at that way. He was thinking about an excuse to leave when Oli pulled a chair for him and asked him to sit down. Then she brought a huge comforter over from her room and wrapped it around him.

"Umm... Kyle?" She was staring at him with an expression he couldn't quite decipher.

"Oli?"

"Your clothes, they are still wet."

He smiled and pushed the comforter off him and gave Olivia the most crooked grin he could, "Yes, they are."

Suddenly, Olivia brightened up and told him, "Wait right here."

She ran into one of the rooms again and Kyle decided he could use that time to come up with a plan. Some part of him etched to stay so bad that he had to keep reminding himself about the threat he was to her. Even though he didn't feel like a threat with her.

He looked in the direction she had gone and wondered just how rich the Cooks' were. He was sitting in what seemed like the living room but it could fit his entire floor in it. There was a large photo frame above the mantle of the fireplace. It showed a man with soft brown skin and a large rifle in hand. But there was something in his eyes, though blue like Oli's they seemed cold, hardened like ice.

"I see you met our great uncle Cook."

With the g*n and the surname, he thought if he had wandered into a family of pirates, but decided to keep that comment to himself. He turned to look at her and saw that she was holding some clothes in her hand, "Here." She offered him.

"I know I would make a beautiful girl Oli, but I can't wear your clothes."

"Funny. They are my father's." She thrust them into his hand and showed the way to the guest bedroom.

Kyle's mind was going crazy with thoughts. On one hand, it had completely shut down and on the other, he wondered if he could tell Oli everything and at least have someone in the world he could talk to. The shirt was 3 sizes bigger than his but at least it was dry. He quickly changed and went back to the living room. The fire seemed even more attractive now.

"Marshmallows?" Olivia asked him and he saw that she was making cocoa. Then, it seemed obvious that he couldn't tell her the truth. Oli had always been so kind to him and he wouldn't know what he would do if she started seeing him as the monster he was truly becoming. He quickly wrapped the comforter around himself to hide the black veins deepening around his arms. The smell of lavenders enveloped him again. The warmth immediately made him feel better but now the adrenaline had completely worn off and he could feel the exhaustion seeping through his bones. All he wanted to do was shut his eyes for a minute, just until his head stopped throbbing.

Oli gave him the cocoa and came and sat beside him. He closed both his palms around the cup to stop his trembling hands and tried to do some breathing exercises to calm down. He knew that Oli was waiting for him to explain everything but he himself didn't know exactly what had happened. It felt like his mind had completely blanked out over the details.

"Kyle, don't take this the wrong way but I have to ask you something." Kyle just nodded because he didn't really have anything to say anymore. If Olivia had heard the horrible things, he had told Anya he deserved whatever she thought about him.

"You didn't jump, did you?"

Now, he was truly dumbfounded. He did not expect her to ask that, "God Oli! No, I did not jump. I was sitting on the edge which seems stupid now in retrospect, but I was just so tired and I was running all the way and I really just needed to sit for a minute." Then he muttered to himself, "They really need to put up some railings or something man."

When Oli didn't reply he just continued, "Olivia, I am not suicidal. Clumsy yes, but suicidal- no."

Oli turned at looked at him with so much emotion in her eyes that he couldn't help but think that he was adding another nail to his coffin. He couldn't let her feel anything for him; not even normal platonic care. It was just too risky. But he couldn't help it. She was stunning. And she was standing there looking at him; holding whatever was left of his world together. He leaned in and saw that there was hair all across her concerned face. He moved them from there just when she looked right into his eyes.

"Kyle! Your hands are freezing."

She pulled them into hers and started rubbing fiercely. Kyle just gave in and sighed. All his instincts told him to run but he couldn't. It was almost as if he has lost the capacity to. He could feel her fingers, delicate and soft against his rough ones. His brain was going into overdrive and he knew if he didn't stop now, he wouldn't be able to. He dropped her hands at once and he saw something like hurt flash in her eyes but she quickly composed herself.

Just then, they heard the sound of a key in a lock and the door opening. Olivia glanced at the clock to see that it was half-past eight; right around the time, her father comes home. Suddenly, she was glad Kyle dropped her hands so hastily.

Olivia's father entered the room, and Kyle could have sworn the man flickered his gaze to him with disgust but swiftly averted it. "Olivia?" he said. The question a command enough for her to introduce them.

"Oh father, this is Kyle. Kyle, this is my father."

The man held his hand out and for a minute Kyle didn't even realize that it was there. "Mr. Cook, if you will." He said while he shook Kyle's hand. Hard worn fingers clasped his and left just as quickly.

Kyle nodded not sure what to say. He hadn't been this awkward since he had mistaken Alex's mother for his sister two years ago. It did score him extra cupcakes whenever he went over the Mathews' though.

He definitely needed to get out now. Her father was the Sheriff and he definitely couldn't answer any of his questions especially when he didn't know the answers himself.

"Stay for dinner, Kyle. I brought take-out. I hope you like Chinese." Oh, he absolutely couldn't stay for Chinese. He wondered if Oli would still talk to him the next day if he just made a run for it.

"Thank You for the offer Mr. Cook, but it's getting late and I have a long walk home."

The Sheriff was looking at him and he felt strangely tense; like he was one of his criminals from a line-up. He still remembered seeing him at Anya's house a week ago. The memory burned in his mind; funny how his entire life had turned around in a matter of seven days.

He looked at Oli and saw that she was just as awkward as he was. He silently mouthed a Sorry to her and decided to move things along, just when he remembered he was wearing her father's clothes. No wonder he was looking at him funny. He tried to walk with as much dignity as he could muster in pajamas he had to hold up with his hand while walking and went over to Olivia's side.

"Oli!" Kyle whispered as the Sherriff shut his bedroom door.

"What?"

"Can you please tell me where my clothes are?"

That's when she wheeled around towards him and panicked.

"f**k-f**k-f**k-s**t-fuck." She muttered half to herself and half to the bedroom door. "Kyle, you have to stay and let me explain now."

"Explain what?"

She raked her eyes over his clothes when Kyle realized what she was talking about. And that was not an impression he wanted to give her or her father. But he couldn't let her explain that he fell into the water and she rescued him in front of him without being open to any questions about it either.

He had reached such a point of frustration with himself that he decided that maybe he should have stayed in the damn water instead of going around messing everyone's life up. So, he took humor as his way out, "Now, you ain't embarrassed to be seen with a pretty boy like me, are you?"

"What Kyle! You know it's not that." Apparently, Oli didn't share his sense of humor when she was panicking. He could see her biting hard into her bottom lip.

"I was just kidding, Oli." He tried his best to give an innocent but charming smile he could muster while his head was throbbing like crazy and he was almost sure he looked like a frog.

"They are still wet." She told him.

"What?"

"Your clothes, they are still wet."

"Doesn't matter. Where are they?" She pointed towards a basket kept at the end of the hallway. Kyle quickly stalked over there, picked up his clothes and went into the guest bedroom again. The shirt stuck to his body and the jeans fit just snugly around his waist but he could do worse. The only problem now was his hands. The veins were stark black and perfectly in contrast with his white shirt. His jacket was dripping wet and it didn't make sense for him to wear it anymore but he shrugged it on anyway.

On his way out he saw that his shoes were also kept beside the basket and ditched the socks there itself. He would apologize for the mess the next time he saw her but right now he needed to get out. He figured he had a maximum of five minutes before her father came out again.

Olivia was pacing near the fire when he finally came out. She looked like she was about to protest and go into a deep explanation about why wearing wet clothes was bad for him when Kyle told her, "Listen Oli, I know you have some serious explaining to do for your father but I can't stay."

There was something in his voice that made Olivia understand what he was insinuating towards because she agreed or maybe she just wanted to get rid of him. Whatever it was Kyle thanked his stars, promised to explain everything and make it up to her the next day and twisted the doorknob when he heard her father say, "Oh Kyle, do give your father my best before you run away. And close the door on your way-out young man"

He wondered if his shoes had felt so wet and cold the entire time or was it just during extremely uncomfortable situations. He turned around and saw her father standing with an amused expression on his face but the tone of his voice had been anything but that. He hoped police officers were not allowed to take their guns home as well because he was surely dead meat then.

"Bye, Kyle. Be safe on your way home." Olivia said really loudly and waved. The wave more of a run-for-your-life-as-soon-as-you-can than a see-you-soon. He did just that and closed the door behind him.

Once he had gotten a distance a g*n target couldn't be reached Kyle slowed down to address himself. He was cold but that was the least of his worries. He removed his jacket to look at his hands. It seemed his veins had taken on black as their permanent outfit now. He tried to go over the day's events as he walked back home to realize that this was now the second time that he was doing this. He needed a plan for his life because if he continued this way, he would end up in some dark alley with no idea what had happened to him really soon.

Talking to Anya about anything was absolutely out of the question now but he was still tempted. Even though he knew that she wouldn't even look at him after what had happened today, unless she wanted to spit at him of course. He thought he could talk to Will. He always knew what to say to him. He didn't have a phone on him though and he wasn't even sure where it was anymore. It could be in his bag or at the bottom of the river; one never knew. He saw that the roads were becoming familiar and gathered that he would be home soon. If he could still call it that. He knew that Anya wouldn't tell his father what had happened but he still couldn't walk into that house and pretend that he didn't want to crawl with shame instead.

He saw that the lights in the house were off and once again wondered what time it was. He reached the front door and was about to turn away again when he saw that Anya's boots weren't there. Right then, his father opened the door and stood right in front of him. He had his arms crossed.

"She is staying with the Matthews' today." His father answered knowing the questioning look in his eyes. He looked to his right and saw that her house was silent.

Ryan Jones was also looking at the Jacobs' home. They both decided not to acknowledge that particular wound today; for the night was long and they had more pressing matters at hand. He decided food was the most important of them all. His stomach growled in response.

His father heard that too, "Come in, make yourself at home." He heard the taunt in his voice but he didn't have a retort. He was exhausted, so exhausted that even though the guilt of not being there for Anya was making him nauseous he could still hog an entire pizza by himself. He subconsciously wondered when was the last time he had eaten a proper meal. He had been trying to get out of the house so quickly every day that he never had more than two bites. And after the day he had, running around the town and then falling into that retched river; the cocoa Oli had made for him seemed to be far too long ago. He almost considered if he should have taken up the Sheriff on his offer for Chinese.

He could see traces of Anya everywhere in his house. The school books neatly kept in the corner, her jacket on the back of a chair and even her laptop on the coffee table. He wondered if she had even come home after school because she took that laptop with her everywhere.

He knew his father had questions for him too but this time, he had some for him as well, if not more. His father had hidden everything about this 'Imperialism' from him but he still wasn't sure how to make that allegation just yet.

He once again looked at his father fiddling about in the kitchen when he noticed it. Ryan's eyes had massive bags under them and there was even a slight tremor in his hands. Kyle sunk back in the chair and felt more ashamed of himself than he figured it was possible for him to now. He had almost forgotten that it wasn't only Anya who had lost her family that day but his father too. And he hadn't even bothered to talk to him since.

He figured he should just start making a list of all the things he had screwed up. Maybe then he'd at least be able to keep a track of them all. And of course, following their family tradition, neither of them had the guts to talk about it. He guessed that was about the only thing he had in common with his father. Well, that and this newfound Imperialism which he still didn't understand. He had always wondered what parts of him were like his mother's. He hardly remembered anything about her and almost considered asking his father if there was anything but he talked himself out of that every time. And now there was no reason to dig up old graves when he seemed to have made so many new for himself.

Kyle sighed and put his head down. Ryan had never forced Kyle to do anything and even now let him have his space. Kyle knew that some part of him wanted his father to shake him and make him talk to him but the rest of him knew that he had questions he really didn't want the answers to so he just kept quiet.

"Hey buddy," Ryan tapped the back of his head. He had the dinner ready and Kyle knew he had to get something in his belly so he got up, washed his face with cold water and sat on the dining table. His father had already served himself and was looking at Kyle expectantly.

Kyle took his usual place in front of his father and for a minute he could pretend that everything was normal, like the last week of his life hadn't taken place at all. Just for a minute though, because Ryan added, "Listen Kyle, we need to talk."

Kyle thought about protesting or making up some excuse but then thought better of himself and waited for his father to finish.

"Not right now, you seem tired and I need your complete attention for this. But tomorrow morning. Before school."

Kyle nodded his head and continued to swallow his food as fast as he could. The guilt had reached a point by then that it could counter all his hunger. He didn't apprehend how exactly but he knew that his father understood what was happening to him and thus was giving him the space he needed. Or again, maybe he wanted to get rid of him too.

Once he had enough, he excused himself and headed upstairs. There was a time he had spent his entire life in his room but now even that felt strangely foreign. All his memories seemed to be tied to Anya somehow and he was trying to avoid that topic from entering his mind as much as he could.

He saw that his bag was kept on his bed with a note reading "Call me" on top of it. He looked towards his window and saw that it was left wide open. It had to be Derek then, no one else could have climbed in through there to keep his bag.

There was a time when he would have been appalled at the concept of him forgetting his bag somewhere without even once thinking about it but now carelessness seemed to be his middle name. He sighed and picked up his phone. And just like everything else in his perfectly miserable life, his phone was dead. He put it to charge and thought about doing homework. Because obviously, when everything else around him was absurd, homework seemed completely sensible.

He opened his math books and set himself to work. Soon, he had forgotten about everything else and it was just him and his dear old friend Integration. Half-way through an exercise, he looked up to see that it was 1 am. His phone had enough battery to start but he wasn't sure if he could call Derek then. Mainly, because he had a strict nine am to nine pm calling policy for anyone but Anya and because since he had come home, nothing bad had happened. He could breathe without fearing that something somewhere would go wrong but he knew that wouldn't last long anyway.

Against his better judgment, he called Derek.