Kyle woke up to the sound of... silence. His eyes flickered open and he pushed himself up to find himself in his room. Groggily cracking his joints, he flinched at the sudden pain in his shoulder.

"WHAT THE HELL?" He yelled.

Butler La Fayette rushed in immediately and Kyle pointed at the bloody bandage on his shoulder.

"Where'd I get this from?" Kyle couldn't remember shit from last night. There he was rushing to go find Emily who somehow got kidnapped, and he found her injured. She was injured. Badly. And it was his fault, he shuddered slightly.The butler seemed to read his mind as he calmly said, "Ms. Emily's injuries were minor and had gone back home under my care, sir. She's fine."

Although he felt a rush of relief he was puzzled at how they were minor. What exactly happened? I ran to the terminal and found her all injured. There's no way she can be fine! Then I knocked several out and was about to get to Jackson when-when what? Emily. She woke up. But then--Kyle tried to remember what happened and pounded his head. What in the world happened?

"Gramps, make sure to get her to a hospital though. Her wounds were pretty severe. Let's just make sure to check up on everything. By the way, what time is it?" He groaned as he eased himself up from his lying position.

Butler La Fayette pulled out his watch and checked the time. "A little after 2:30 young master."

Just in time for lunch. Kyle jumped off his bed ignoring the stinging pain in his shoulder and legs and headed to the showers. "Get my uniform ready, and prepare my protein shake."

"Er, young master, it's a Saturday."

Kyle paused mid-step before slowly turning around. "What do you mean it's Saturday? Yesterday was Thursday. Are you going senile, old man?" He smirked.

"Surprisingly, no young master," he smiled gently, "You've been asleep for two days. The, er, accident must've made your body pretty exhausted. You woke up only for a few minutes every few hours."

"What the hell happened?" He mused to himself as he sat himself back down on the bed.

"If you'll excuse me young master, I shall prepare your breakfast," Butler Lafayette gave a small bow before exiting the room.

Kyle slowly slipped out of bed. He limped over to Bacon's cage to give her a carrot before heading to the shower. 

His bathroom was huge.  Probably a bit smaller than the size of his classrooms. Installed was a state of art hot tub, a shower stall, a steam room, and of course a sink and a toilet. Usually he didn't mind the largeness, but with his injuries, getting around was a pain. He nearly slipped twice at the smooth marble floors, and winced whenever he saw his reflection in the mirror. His face was mangled badly; there was a large purple, green bruise on his right cheeks, and his nose was a deep shade of red. Who ever did this is gonna pay. His new wounds were not strategically put like in the movies to make the actor look bad ass, instead, it looked as though he barely survived a horrible car accident. As he stripped out of his top, he took notice of the jagged cuts on his biceps and the bruises that were blooming all over his back. He flexed his stomach, and winced at the pain he felt. If he was in this state, how the hell was Emily fine? He sucked in breath as he lowered his torso to slip off his pants and gingerly went into the shower. 

Showering was probably one of Kyle's favorite hobbies. He would usually spend 40 minutes in there, doing sit ups or meditating. But today, he stood there, the water hitting his head and back in a soothing massage, hoping he'd figure out what went down Thursday night. Showers were after all, the perfect time for a brooding session. Well, the most I can do now is question her when I see her on Monday.