"hang your head down, tom dooley / poor boy, you are bound to die."
- tom dooley, the kingston trio
He looked over at Allison, who stared at the beach, blankly. The waves lapped the shore as the wind cried out about the whole situation. Kyle knew this day would come. It always came. There would be no more of his friend to call his own. No more of Ally, the troublemaker and Ky, the protector. This was their goodbye. Kyle picked up a rock, and fiddled with it.
Allison wiped her eyes, biting her lip. She turned to Kyle, "Well… aren't you going to say something?" Her voice was empty. He let out a chuckle, which made Allison look away. She knew what he was thinking.
"You're abandoning me, Ally. What else can I say?" Kyle pulled on his sleeves, the all too large sweater swallowing him whole. Allison glanced back at him.
Her hand reached to Kyle's. He took it, and they sat there for a minute. Everything was so uncertain. The end had come, and it had gone back where it was before. Allison touched Kyle's cheek with her other hand, "I'm not abandoning you. I'll call you. We'll text, every day. Okay?"
"Who's going to feed me, Ally? Lunch, at school." Kyle could feel his voice pinching, "Who is going to help me pick out clothes when mine stop fitting? Lord knows I don't have anyone here."
"You have your foster mom."
Kyle got up. Something wasn't right. He had thought he could control this humming in his chest. But seeing Allison so upset, and yet so okay with all of it… It didn't feel right; Kyle could feel her own worry. He glanced over at Ally, who had concern written all over her face, "Ky?"
"I'm sorry. I'm just…" He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes, "Y'know how many kids are in my home? Seven. My foster mom just wants more money, Allison. I never got to have a family until you came around. And now, you're leaving. You're gone." He wiped his nose.
Allison stood up, wiping the sand off her. She took Kyle's hand, and put her nose up to his, "Wanna go grab some ice cream off the boardwalk?" A bright smile crossed her face.
It was normal to get ice cream. That was their thing- vanilla for him, chocolate for her. Kyle nodded. She wrapped an arm around him, and started talking asking him questions about science. Which, Kyle was more than happy to answer any other day. He knew that Ally was planning something, something big.
He just didn't know what it was yet.
Garbage bag? Check.
Headphones? Check.
Book? Check.
Phone? Check.
Impending doom of not knowing where the car will take me? Check.
Kyle waved goodbye to Ana, the youngest foster kid at the house. Her hands wrapped around Sharon, his old foster mom's, leg. A joyful, now sad, memory came into his mind- one of Ana's. Kyle's face drained. He leaned on the door.
Lucy, his social worker, looked back, "Kyle? You okay?"
"Yeah." He croaked out, "I'm just dehydrated." A quick lie did the trick. Lucy wrapped her arms around his shoulders, "It's okay to be sad, Kyle. You lived here longer than any other place. Here, we'll stop by a gas station and get water, okay?"
The fifteen year old nodded, heart beating rapidly. The world swirled around him in slow motion. Where was he going? Who decided to take in a fifteen year old boy, one that screamed at night and jumped at loud noises? Kyle pulled down on his sweater. No one really wanted him.
Honestly, what kind of monster wanted to give a boy so much hope, only to have it wiped out by the truth?
Allison popped to mind.
He let out a chuckle, low and soft. It wasn't right to be mad at her. She had done nothing wrong. Kyle knew that her family moved around a lot. He knew that Allison would be nothing more than a memory, soon enough. That's all anyone was. A memory.
The memory would be locked tight, where nothing could touch it. He put the garbage bag in the seat next to him. Maybe he was going back to the halfway house. That's where he had been before Sharon. Kyle had many things he carried, and he knew this. He knew he carried too much inside his bones.
No one needed to know what went on in his mind. No one deserved that kind of walls breaking down. Even Allison didn't know that hell he had been through.
Kyle slipped earbuds into his ear, clicking his classical playlist. Something without lyrics, all feeling, and no trace of an Argent that had left him behind.
His eyes drooped, closing about thirty minutes into the ride. The piano keys in his ear soothed him into sleep. Book falling out of his hand, Kyle didn't think. He just slept, the best he had in a long time.
Sometimes, when he dreamed, he dreamed of a wailing woman whose hands were long and spider-like. She had bright blue eyes, and cried every night. Her face was pale with a thin lipped scream. It felt too real to be a dream, but Kyle didn't know who this woman was. Occasionally, he'd hear a little voice call her 'Mama'.
The car came to a halt about thirty minutes later. The woman had stopped screaming in his dream. A little boy came out in his dream, hiding behind the woman. Kyle saw his own hazel eyes in the little boy's. His hand wrapped around the woman's, and he whispered, "Mama…"
Hands shook the fifteen year old awake. He gasped, the dream leaving him a little breathless. The hands scared him the most. Lucy's bug like green eyes looked at him. She was smiling- which was new and yet wasn't at all. Her firmness made its way in everything Lucy did. This smile was a little daunting, all too happy and excited.
Kyle grabbed his garbage bag, and got out of the car.
The house was huge. White paint, wooden molding. Two oak doors stood in between him, and his new "family". Lucy knocked on the door. Kyle tightened his garbage bag.
"I got it!" Allison's voice rang out. Kyle felt himself smile before he could think to do it.
The door swung open. Kyle dropped his bag, and hugged his new sister, "Ally!" Allison lifted him up, and spun him around, "Hi, Ky." She grinned, dimples popping out.
Kyle waved his hands in the air, as if to exclaim that he couldn't believe it. And, he couldn't. The brunette took his hands, "I know, Kyle Harper. I know. You are going to be an Argent-"
"No, don't say that." Lucy butted into the conversation, "You all are a foster home, not the last stop. Not yet, anyways." The social worker laughed, "Now, apparently your friend- Allison, right?- had been planning this for a while."
Allison nodded, "You've always been my brother. I just… wanted it to be more official."
He stared, dumbly, at Allison, "This isn't a prank, right?"
Kyle could feel the honesty radiating off Ally, "No, Ky. It isn't. It's real."
Home? Check.
Kyle sat across from Allison at dinner. The Argents had made spaghetti with meatballs, Kyle's favorite. He twirled the pasta around his fork, watching the sauce drip from the food onto the plate. Trying not to gorge on carbs was hard. Kyle hadn't had this good of a meal since Kirsten's house, when he was ten.
Taking a bite, Kyle smiled at Allison, who winked back at him. The two of them had talked about this moment for a year. No one had made Kyle feel more at home than Allison; Allison had always wanted a sibling, and he fit the bill. Sometimes, the two thought of each other as long lost twins. Kyle could talk Allison out of any situation, and Ally could convince Kyle to take a chance. They balanced each other out.
Even Chris and Victoria should be able to see that.
"Are you done?" A sharp voice cut through Kyle's thoughts. It was Victoria, who didn't exactly make Kyle feel incredibly welcome. He looked down at his now empty plate, "Yes, ma'am. I am." His stomach rumbled right after he said so.
Allison grabbed a piece of garlic bread from the basket, and set it on Kyle's plate, "He's not done." She said, "You can eat, Kyle." Ally took another piece of bread for herself. She dipped it into the sauce on her plate.
Kyle felt the tension in the air. Victoria's energy was pinched and brutal. Feeling it just drained him, his body humming at a G sharp. It filled his ears, like flies swarming around his head and Kyle couldn't stop hearing that note. He took a bite of his bread, hoping it would stop the overwhelming feeling that he wasn't wanted.
Looking at Allison, who gave him a look of concern, Kyle focused in on her breathing. She was happy that he was here. Kicking her underneath the table, Allison let out a little gasp. Pinching off a piece of bread, Allison aimed for Kyle's nose. She hit it, perfectly. Chris rolled his eyes, "Allison, you're not four."
"Dad, I'm just giving Kyle the childhood moments of food-fighting." Allison smiled at her father, "Besides, we can get messy one day, can't we?"
Kyle took his bread, and scooped up sauce with it. Taking a bite, Kyle exhaled. That garlic butter warmed his tongue. God, he loved garlic. It was something he hadn't had as a kid. The flavor could overpower senses at any minute. Smiling at the taste of the flaky bread in his mouth, Kyle looked over at Chris, who gave Ally a stern look.
Chris shook his head, "No food-fighting at the table. Or anywhere. Got it?"
"Yes, Dad." Allison took another bite of her bread, and grabbed her plate. Kyle wolfed down his bread, following suit.
He thanked Victoria and Chris for dinner as he walked into the kitchen. Allison leaned against the fridge, "Sometimes, I wish my parents were more chill."
Kyle thought back to his Papa. A cold shiver flew down his spine, "Trust me, your parents are plenty chill. They just want what's best."
"You sure about that?" Allison looked down, "Sometimes, I think they don't want me to grow up."
"What parent does?" He moved over to Ally, "And besides, now they have two wild teenagers to worry about.
She snorted at that, "You? Wild? Please, Kyle Harper, you are the least wild out of all of us." Wrapping her arms around Kyle, she knuckled her fist into his skull, "Oh, yeah, you're so wild! Lemme see that wild child!"
He started laughing, "Allison, stop!" His hands moved to her stomach, where he tickled her. Allison let go, letting out a huge burst of giggles.
"You really did it this time, Kyle Harper!"
"No way, Ally A! I'm an Argent now. Kyle Harper, who?"
The joy radiating off of her made Kyle grin. He felt some sort of wetness behind his eyes, but ignored them. Allison took his hand, "I got ice cream."
"The right kind?"
"Of course. I always do."
A/N: How many times does it take to restart a story? THREE! Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed. The epitaph will happen on the chapters (I think? I like it. We'll see if I can keep up with that), but don't look too deeply into them. I like epitaphs, and that's why they are included. I am on tumblr with the same username as this fanfiction account- ilseneumcnn! Feel free to come in with questions, see sneak peeks, and enjoy the blog! I would love it if you would leave a little review, or even follow the story. I hope you all have a nice day. :)