Cry for Help
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize – characters, quotes, the plot, etc – is not mine. Make love, not litigation.
A/N: Just a little something to tide me over till "Hidden". Probably a one-shot, but I'm open to begging/suggestions before the episode shows on Sunday. Oh, and I reserve the right for this to suck, but you have my apologies if it does; hopefully, the writers pull it off better. Finally: if you have a better way to end this, please tell me. I'm fully aware that my ending is crap. Sorry about that. Now, on with the story.
Dad, I had to leave….
I'm sorry.
Kyle Baldwin had run. It was the only thing he could think to do. He couldn't go to Shawn, to the 4400 Center – not when everything that had happened centered on that place. He knew his cousin was only trying to help, but he was starting to feel that he was beyond help.
When he eventually returned, simply because he had nowhere else to go, he did his best to get to his room without his father or anyone seeing him. No need to attract attention, especially not in the form of awkward questions he didn't want to answer. No need.
"Kyle?"
Well, shoot. That worked fantastically. So much for that idea….
"Yeah?" Try as he might, he couldn't keep his nervousness from slipping into his voice.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just – just leave me alone, okay?" The hostility in the words almost masked the tremor also present.
"No, it's not okay," his father said firmly. "Kyle, whatever it is, we can figure it out, alright? But please, tell me."
Later, Kyle didn't know whether he finally broke down because he knew in the back of his mind that his father wouldn't give up, or if it was because he'd just had too much of trying to keep it all to himself. Regardless, almost before his dad had finished speaking, he'd sunk into a chair, propped his head in his hands, and begun to talk.
"You know those blackouts I've been having, Dad?" Only a slight pause after the sentence was spoken; both knew the question was rhetorical. "They haven't stopped."
Tom's eyebrows went up a fraction of an inch, but he remained silent. Kyle was glad. Now that he'd started talking, he doubted he could stop if he wanted to.
"The day Collier was murdered, I had one," he continued, looking everywhere but at his father. "At first, it was like the other ones – I couldn't remember anything. Then, everything started coming back." He hesitated for a long moment. "I'd come to with dirt all over my hands, Dad, like I'd been burying something. And then I started remembering…remembering what I'd done. The way that trigger felt, how his body twisted before it hit the ground…I remember all of it, but it just feels like somebody else's memories." He glanced for a split-second at his father's face, on which understanding was rapidly dawning, and went on. "Dad…I killed Jordan Collier."
His words reverberated throughout the room, taunting him. Already, he was regretting having said anything. After all, he told himself, his dad worked for NTAC; it was his job to track down the guy who'd done what he'd just admitted to doing. But his father wouldn't do that to him, would he?
Right?
Kyle looked up nervously at his dad, mildly aware that he was shaking.
"I didn't mean to," he added, his expression full of fear. "Please, help me."
Tom Baldwin was quiet for a minute. Then, he reached across the table and gripped his son's shoulders with an almost desperate intensity. "Kyle, I will do whatever I can to help. Trust me. I'm not gonna let them put you in prison for something you did not do."
Kyle sighed with relief, gazing past his father to the unbearable images that were his memories, and whispered, "Thanks, Dad."
Post-"Hidden" A/N: Okay, so there's major factual errors. Just pretend that Tom was paying more attention, like I thought he was. My apologies for any OOCness; as I expected, the writers did it better. Oh, well. Till next time.