Alex searched Kyle's face and he didn't like what he saw. He'd seen the same thing in the men and women around him when he'd been overseas and it twisted something in his chest to see it in Kyle's expression now. He'd been in such a rush to go find Michael, to figure out what was going on, that he'd hurried right past the part where he'd checked over Kyle to make sure he was alive. Physically, he was mostly just bruised and that's what Alex had worried about.

But there was more to it than just the physical bruise. The bruise didn't cause the whiteness in Kyle's face or the ways his eyes darted around to assess the situation. Alex pressed his lips together and wondered whether anyone would care if he shot his own father.

"I won't," he promised.

He continued forward slowly, continuing to glance at Kyle out of the corner of his eye. He'd been too lost in his own crap to be worried about more than the physical, but he was worried now.

"I should have known he wouldn't stay away," he muttered softly. Especially since they'd destroyed something that must have been precious. He couldn't help but wonder if that was one of the things his father had squirreled away or whether the government knew about the prisoners that had been held there.