The pain was sharp, throbbing through his head with painful jolts of lightning, splashing white behind his eyelids. Ky groaned at the buzzing and whining sound in his ears and lifted his arm to swat the bug it must be coming from. When his arm hit coarse fabric, dust flew around him, causing his throat to close up and spasm. Ky's other hand felt around the thick metal on his left side until he found something that vaguely felt like a door handle. Giving it a jerk that hurt his fingers and wrist, he heard the door crack open with a whine of metal, before he tumbled out of the car.
The whining wasn't a bug after all, but rather a police car that had stopped on the road above, complete with the flashing red and blue lights that momentarily blinded Ky. He coughed until his throat was dry and the dust was gone, then wiped what was left from his face. His neck hurt badly, along with the cut he discovered burning his forehead from dust mixed with blood and a small piece of glass. Ky flopped down on the grass, lying down as he looked over at the twisted metal that was now made of what looked like melted blue paint and glass shattered with the airbag deflated in the front seat.
And he'd gotten out with just a cut on his forehead and a sore neck? So why the hell hadn't Fredrick survived his crash? Karma and fate sucked.
Footsteps came up beside him, with dark polished black boots and the clicks of a utility belt crammed with various tools. "Are you all right, kid?" The police man's voice was scolding and he wasn't reaching for his walkie, obviously thinking Ky was drunk for driving through a concrete divider at the edge of a bridge an d ending up in the mucky grass between the drainage pond and the exit lane. Ky didn't move, still caught up in his moment of rebellion and shoving the car mentally back against his father for being so insensitive. Part of him was still wondering how he'd lived and if he'd actually intended to kill himself.
"Yeah, fine, just taking my birthday gift out for a spin."
"Can you stand?"
"Probably." Ky didn't move though and instead just kept staring at the car in front of him.
A moment passed between the two in silence before Ky sighed and let go of the rebellious streak. Closing his eyes he forced himself to slowly sit up, then to his feet, holding the back of his neck for support. He could tell it was going to hurt for the next week at least. He supposed he deserved that though, for being so stupid. If he'd really wanted to kill himself he should have driven off the bridge in the middle and crashed to the road below, but in reality - he realized - he'd just wanted to destroy the car. In that he'd succeeded, so he could live with a little neck pain and the scar that would soon be on his forehead.
"The cut looks pretty minor, you're not bleeding anymore. You probably don't need an ambulance. Would you mind coming up with me to take a breathalyzer test." It wasn't a question in the least bit, and Ky didn't treat it as such. He dutifully followed the cop up to his car, somehow managing to walk well enough in spite of the pounding in his head. Breathing into the machine and walking the straight line by the car was significant enough to convince the cop he wasn't intoxicated, and the flash of his ID showing his first and last name made the cop even more cooperative and willing to forget the incident.
In the end Ky found himself riding in the back of the cop car for a ride home, leaving the twisted wreck of his car behind on the road.
Ky hoped he'd never see it again.
Ky slammed the bedroom door hard, making his own head ring harder. Through the wood he could still hear his fathers' voice, eagerly interrogating the cop about the condition of the wrecked car. He'd only glanced at Ky when he'd come in, then immediately started asking about the precious gift he'd given him. Ky felt sick and almost needed to throw up from the complete lack of caring his father had shown for his own son!
He didn't even bother to take off his shoes and leave them at the door, but instead kicked them off and didn't even pay attention to where they landed in his room. Dusty clothes dropped to the floor and Ky walked naked into the bathroom that connected his and the unused guest bedroom to take a look at himself and assess the damage.
A cut crossed the right side of his forehead, probably from the rearview mirror or something like that, and it had dyed the blond bangs in that area a faded red. He could see the small piece of glass and easily brushed it away with his fingers, causing the blood to start a little again. He grabbed a towel from the rack and proceeded to clean off the blood from his forehead, leaving only the small red outline of a jagged cut that probably wouldn't even leave a scar.
The rest of his body wasn't much of a case. His neck still hurt, but his headache was fading now and the remaining dust from the airbag was easily washed off in the deep bath tub while soaking in the scalding hot water. Ky made sure the door was locked securely, before submerging himself up to his neck in the hot water, his skin turning slightly red from the heat. The tingling against his skin was relaxing and he closed his eyes, letting the shock and pain of the accident just fade away as he tuned out the voices from the floor below.
Mentally he walked through the house he and Fredrick had chosen to live in. He entered the front door and stepped into the kitchen, to find it decorated in white and light blue, looking horribly domesticated yet comfortable enough. Everything matched, making it look like some pristine summer cottage that people rented out for the weekend rather than living in, right down to the little flowers in the window by the sink and the kitchen rag hanging next to the stove. The living room continued off the kitchen, sporting large and plush chairs and a couch with a television hanging over the fireplace, flanked by decorative candle holders on either side. Then there was the bedroom off the living room, complete with a small four season porch where Ky had dreamt of falling asleep in Fredrick's arms while listening to the crickets and owls outside.
Ky lifted his hand from the water and looked at the simple silver ring on his finger. Fredrick had given it to him to show their engagement. This and the keys were all Ky had left. The ring, the keys and the fact that ever since Fredrick had died, Ky just couldn't stop living in those moments when he was alive.
"I need to move on, don't I?" He asked the tiled room softly, looking at the ring as if it would answer him. He knew the answer, he didn't need to ask. He knew he needed to move on and stop dwelling on things, after all Fredrick wouldn't have liked the bitter emotional child he'd become after the accident and there was no better testament to his new attitude then what he'd just done. Ky closed his eyes and sunk under the water, shaking his head to wash away what remained of the dirt and dust. A small hint of red filled the water as the blood was washed from his bangs, then he stood up and dried off as the tub drained of everything.
Ky dried himself off with the large fluffed towel hanging from the wall and sunk into a bathrobe that smelled as if it were straight from the drier. Feeling infinitely better he left the bathroom to wander downstairs and find his father. As usual, he found him in the office, on the phone.
"Yes yes of course, that's perfect. You know the set up well enough , and did I mention how impressed I was with your latest work? Yes I've got all the pictures right here and I was very very impressed. I'll have a new project ready for you right away, just follow the directions I sent you..."
Ky leaned against the wall, listening as his father talked on the phone, his voice high pitched like a child talking about his hobby. He could tell his father was talking to one of his 'surrogate sons', which is what Ky always called the boys his father hired to fix his cars. The phone conversation could have gone on forever, but luckily for Ky he seemed to have walked in on the ending of it because he soon heard the phone click into its cradle, and his father's weight adjusted in the chair, making the leather moan in protest.
"Father?"
"Ah yes! You look much better now." His father welcomed him in with open arms, looking almost ready to hug him. Ky side stepped it out of habit and sat down in one of the chairs across from his father. "I assume you're feeling much better now? I called the clinic and had them set up an appointment for you tomorrow afternoon, just to make sure everything is in order. As for the accident and your record, it won't reflect on your permanent record at all, so we can just forget everything happened. I've had the car picked up and towed out of the ditch, you certainly did a number on it..."
Ky couldn't help but smile a little as his father rambled on, rustling the papers on the desk. The normalcy of it all seemed to settle him and make it seem like his small act of idiocy had never happened. Nodding now and then he took comfort in the wide smile on his father's face and let himself be lulled back into a numb security. He considered even regarding his life the way his father did, just letting things happen, then coming in to sweep up the pieces and make it look good again. It neglected the present, but things seemed to turn out all right.
"Thanks father. I'm sorry about the car."
"Nonsense, we'll have it fixed in no time."
Ky opened his mouth to protest, but second guessed himself and finally let it go. If his father wanted to still give him a car, let him. It wouldn't hurt if Ky just left it in the garage, then it would be no different from the other cars in the collection that sat there like a silent car show. It was his father's way of showing he cared and it was just how that man always was.
Ky went to sleep that night feeling peaceful and settled, not even minding the dull throbbing of his cut. It was the first time in months he'd fallen asleep without crying and holding Fredrick's picture.
How strange that after he fell asleep the keys on the chain around his neck twisted closer around his neck and the picture on the bedside table fell off, landing on the mattress next to his hand and peacefully sleeping face.