Chapter 15

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Kyle slowly rose from his spot at the table and took in a breath. It was only fair that this family knew the danger they were in. The redhead didn't realize his feet dragging across the floor, moving up the steps and bringing Stan back down with him. It wasn't until Stan gave Kyle's arm a slight tug that he looked back at the older male.

"Kyle, what are we doing...?" Stan asked slowly. Kyle took notice of the way Stan's eyes drooped. The poor man was always tired, and now it looked like he had been crying. Kyle lifted his hand to wipe tears from Stan's cheek before he spoke.

"I want to tell your parents; they deserve to know. It's not fair. I put all of you in danger, and I want to tell them I'm sorry."

Stan watched as Kyle's hands gripped the ratty bandages still on his arms and nodded. He ran a hand over his face and sighed. "If that's what you want. I'll tell everyone to come down. We'll sit in the kitchen, and you can explain."

Kyle smiled weakly at Stan, and as much as the older hated to admit it, it was infectious. Stan felt a small smile graze his mouth as he stared at the redhead. Kyle turned and made his way to the kitchen. Stan's smile was replaced with a frown when he felt the familiar burn of bile building up in his throat.

Oh no.

Stan breathed heavily, pushing back all the urges to throw up as he walked up the steps to get his mother.

Sooner or later, everyone was in the kitchen. Sharon and Randy sat side by side while Stan stood next to Kyle. Randy seemed annoyed, having been pulled away from some show he was watching; Sharon, on the other hand, was calm, smiling kindly at Kyle.

The redhead looked over at Stan, then to the Marsh parents. So many words to say, but how would he say them? How could he tell these people... The ones who gave life to the man so devoted to protecting him, the ones who have offered him their home, the ones who have treated him with nothing but kindness....

Kyle opened his mouth, but no words came out. How could he tell them who he really was?

"Kyle, sweetie, what's the matter?"

Sharon... Always so kind... She welcomed him so quickly. Admiring how he could help her son, someone who's always been so pessimistic in her eyes, smile so widely.

"Come on, kid, we don't have all day. I was watching my show...!"

Randy.... So egotistical, and yet, he's been friendly... in his own way. He'd always try to teach Kyle about his farm or different types of beer.

How could he tell them that he was the cause of all this pain...?

"I... I'm sorry...."

Stan moved to place a hand on Kyle's, but the redhead moved. Confused, Sharon and Randy stared at Kyle but allowed him to speak.

"I'm sorry I haven't been honest with you. You have been so kind to me, and I thank you. But... it's only fair that after everything, you all know."

"What are you going on about?" Randy asked with his arms crossed.

"When I was 6... I was locked away. I was tortured and tested on while I was there; all I craved was death. But I also wanted freedom. I wanted to see the sun again, and so, about two or three weeks ago, I escaped. I was injured and exhausted, my body fell to the ground, and I couldn't move. Then Stan showed up. He... He saved me. All he did was walk by; he never had to save me. I called out, and he listened. Stan grabbed me and ran, taking me to his car and eventually to his house, where we would stay for less than a day. A shifter from the lab pretended to be our friend, Kenny Mccormick, and tried to attack us. We managed to escape, but the real Kenny was already dead...."

Kyle continued explaining, watching as the older's faces morphed into horror, fear, and sadness. They listened intently, and every time they tried to interject, Stan would hold up his hand and let Kyle continue.

Once finished, Kyle couldn't look up, fearing how they would react. Tears streamed down Sharon's cheeks, her hands reaching out to Kyle, desperate to comfort him. Randy, on the other hand...

Kyle jumped as a hand slammed down on the table. Anger covered Randy's face like a mask, and he began to yell.

"Stan! What the hell?! You brought this... this..abomination to our house?! You knew he was dangerous, yet you still brought him in here?! We were attacked once, now what if it happens again?! How could you? He almost hurt me, hurt Sharon! We all could've been killed just because you wanna play hero! But, worst of all, they could've damaged the farm! Everything this family has worked for could've been destroyed!"

"Randy! Get some sense! This boy has been through so much, and you're yelling about this?!"

"No, Sharon, no! I want this boy out of here! I refuse to put my farm in danger any longer!"

"Goddamit, you selfish bastard! Can't you look past that dumbass farm and your own vanity for 10 fucking seconds!"

"Stanley, that farm put food on your table nearly all your life! You will treat it with respect!"

"Oh, fuck you!"

The family yelled loudly around Kyle, yet, it turned into a ringing in his ears. Nobody noticed as Kyle stood and left. He was nothing but a burden; Kyle knew this about himself. The ringing continued as he walked up the steps; Sparky followed behind him, but Kyle didn't scream, nor did he run. He'd done too much.

Kyle knew he couldn't stay around longer, so he would do what needed to be done. Kyle sat on Stan's bed; tears didn't fall. He'd spent so much of his life crying; maybe he was tired of crying.

"Hey... Don't listen to my dad. He's a dumbass-"

"I want to sleep."

Stan's eyes widened, but he made no effort to decline.

As they laid in bed, Kyle kept himself on the opposite side of Stan. He didn't reach to hold onto him like usual, refusing any and all touch. Stan frowned deeply, worrying about the redhead more than ever. Soon sleep took over the entire house, leaving Kyle alone.

Sitting up, he adjusted himself to not wake Stan. "I never should've called out to you that day... I'm sorry." Kyle whispered as he grabbed Stan's phone. The redhead kept his voice low, and a recording was made.

The steps creaked as Kyle made his way back down. Kyle would never let this family be hurt because of him ever again. He opened the door and refused to look back. The sound of his feet scraping against the porch he teared up.

Kyle walked away from the house, the people inside it, and the people who taught him how to love.

This would be his final escape.

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