Happy Thanksgiving!
The clanging of forks and spoons among the unnatural silence was nearly unbearable. Not that Jack could blame anyone for the silence. After all, he didn't know what to say either. For years he'd dreamed of this, being able to sit here, at this table, eating a home cooked meal that his parents made for him and he had nothing to say to them. His hands shook slightly as he forced himself to eat more during this one meal than he had in the last week. Everyone was watching him.
"Medda, this is delicious," Teddy smiled, trying to break the silence as best he could as Jack's mama stood to start clearing away some of the dishes.
The woman turned and smiled at him, leaning down to peck his cheek. "Thank you, darling, but Spencer here did most of the work," she laughed, nodding down to her eldest son.
Jack glanced over at his brother, knowing he'd done this one purpose, made chili. It used to be one of Jack's favorites. "Thanks," he breathed, looking back down at the bowl that was nearly empty. He felt a little sick, but he'd never admit that.
A small grip tightened on his shoulder reassuringly but Specs didn't say a word. Jack wished he would. Specs had always been the one that led the conversation. He was always the one that spoke up and took charge. Jack had never been a people person, but he'd always detested awkward silences. Thankfully, his mother knew that. "We have dessert. We have every kind of pie and ice cream. Does any of that sound good?"
Doing his best to smile up at his mama, Jack nodded, looking down at his little boy who still looked too frightened to look up at the people that were his own family.
"Pie sounds fantastic, Mama," Specs insisted, standing to help their mother with the dishes.
Pie sounded impossible. Jack tried to ignore the ache in his stomach as he looked down at his son. His heart beat faster for a moment when he saw the look on Race's face. Maybe it was just the light or the angle but for a split second his little boy resembled a man he'd much rather forget. For a moment he'd allowed himself to forget that anyone had questioned his and Tyler's relationship to begin with. Terror rolled around in him but he forced himself to shove it down.
He was free now. He shouldn't have any reason to be this terrified. He was supposed to be safe.
"Tyler, can you thank Grandma and Uncle Specs for dinner?" he asked, tapping a finger beneath the boy's chin. He spoke quietly, just to his little Tyler James, waiting for him to reply.
Shrugging a bit nervously, the child glanced up, finding much too many eyes on him. Well, all except for one pair. As Jack glanced up at his pop, he found those brown eyes avoiding the right side of the table entirely. Choosing to ignore it for what must've been at least the tenth time he'd caught it today, Jack looked back down at his baby boy. "Thank you," the child whispered.
With a small ghost of a smile, Jack helped wipe the bits of food off of the boy's face. "Good, now can you say it so Grandma n' Uncle Specs can hear?" he asked gently.
"Thank you," Race said a little bit louder, though he was still whispering.
Ever the angel, his mama just looked down at the child. "You are very welcome, honey," she smiled. "Do you want some pie or ice cream for dessert?" The boy only offered her a shrug.
Jack looked up at the tons of dishes his big brother was setting out on the table. He almost missed the wink Spencer tossed his way but it definitely made the younger boy feel a bit more comfortable. "Anything look good?"
All of it looked freshly made and absolutely delicious. Jack's eyes widened at the sight but he forced himself to rub Tyler's back. "You wanna try some pie? There's some apple pie, you like apples," he whispered, leaning down to the child. Race just shook his head. "Okay, what about some ice cream, huh?" Before Tyler could even respond, Spencer was gently passing him a bowl and a spoon.
That warm smile that Jack had tried so hard to picture everyday grew smally on his big brother's face. "You wanna try it, Tyler? That's mint chocolate chip. It's your daddy's favorite," he said, already cutting Jack a piece of apple pie and scooping some vanilla ice cream onto it.
"He's right," Jack admitted, scooping a nibble of the dessert up and handing the spoon to his little boy. Hesitantly, Tyler James brought the thing to his lips and pushed it into his mouth. That was all it took of those crystal blue eyes to light up, though those precious lips refused to smile. Jack still took the win. Well, at least, he gave the win to his brother. "Slow down there, Racer," he barely said, turning to take a bite of his own dessert. All he needed was a taste.
Again, Jack glanced over to his pop. The old man apparently found the ceiling and the wall very interesting.
In the split second that Jack stopped paying attention, his son managed to consume nearly half the bowl and he dropped his spoon, his hands rushing to his head. "Ice cream hurts," he whined. Jack could only let out a small, breathy laugh at the normalcy that voice brought him. Race had just spoken at a regular volume without fearing that someone was going to eat him and that was something, the young man thought to himself. That was progress, even in its smallest amount.
"Looks like you've got a brain freeze there, Tyler," Teddy laughed. "Here, I've got a trick for you. Take your thumb here," he took his thumb and pressed it to the roof of his mouth.
Tyler tried to imitate the old man, only making himself giggle a bit. Jack loved that sound more than anything in the world. So he smiled just a little.
Not everyone seemed so amused.
"I think I'll turn in early." The words cut like a knife and Jack knew that he wouldn't be able to handle this.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked, looking up at his father, speaking at a louder volume than he had since he'd been taken to the hospital. It was true that he and his old man had always had their problems but Jack had always known that his pop loved him. At least, he thought so.
Still, ever one to bottle up his feelings till the bitter end, Jack's pop shook his head. "No. It's been a long day and I could just use some rest is all—"
"You haven't looked at him once, have you?" Jack asked. It wasn't a question, though. They both knew the answer.
His pop only gave him a glance. "Jack, let's talk about this later—"
"No, we ain't gonna talk about it later, Pop. We're gonna talk about this right now," Jack insisted, clearly hurt and still a little scared. He hoped no one could hear the fear in his voice. He shrugged his brother's hand off of his shoulder when he knew Spencer was trying to calm him down, gently whispering his name into his ear. Jack didn't want to hear it. "Look at him, Dad…" he said, his hand running over his baby's hair. The innocent child looked a bit uncomfortable, trying to relax and eat his desert. Still, his father refused. "Pop—"
"Otto," Jack's mama scolded lightly.
The old man glared at her before trying to glance down at the child. Jack scowled. He didn't understand. Or maybe the problem was that he did. Maybe he was finally beginning to realize that no one was ever going to be able to look at him the same way again, let alone the child he now had, a child that Jack was beginning to fear may be taken away from him any day now. "Dad," he whispered sharply. "Look at him."
Ever stubborn in his ways, Otto tried, but failed. He caught sight of those blond curls and looked back up at the ceiling before his eyes drifted back down to his broken son. "I'm sorry," he breathed with a shrug.
Tears sprung into Jack's eyes and in a desperate attempt not to lose it in front of his family and his old teacher again, he stood quickly, taking Race's hand in his own. "We're outta here—"
"Jack," Medda tried to call, but Jack was already prying a spoon full of ice cream out of his son's hand. "Jack, honey," she tried again, but Jack wasn't listening. He didn't even stop when Specs tried to reach for him. He just took his little boy's hands and guided him up the stairs.
Tyler tried to look up at him. "Daddy, I wasn't done wif my ice cream, yet," he whined, still struggling to get himself up the stairs. Jack shook his head and guided the boy up to his bedroom, all but slamming the door behind him, freezing at the loud noise. His eyes were wide as he turned around, feeling sick and dizzy. He looked at his bed and walked over to it, collapsing on his back and staring up at the grey ceiling.
Things were supposed to feel different now, yet here Jack was, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling, surrounded by four walls like nothing had changed in the least.
This was a whole new kind of prison. One that only existed in Jack's head.
Race pressed his little ear up against the door. They were whispering out there. It was odd to be able to hear on the other side of that door. Sometimes Tyler would wake up in the night and see Daddy pressing his ear against the door. He would fall asleep there at night every once in a while. Maybe this would help Race fall asleep in this new world, this new room that was so much bigger than the one he knew and loved so much. But Daddy said they weren't going back to Room. Daddy said they would stay here now.
The little boy brushed his hair behind his ear and sat and listened, trying to know what it was like to be able to hear through doors. "... it may be the best option for you to let a good family take him," Grandpa said quietly. "You could still have a life and maybe you could actually move on—"
"Stop," Daddy whispered. Tyler curled up a little bit. His daddy sounded scared. So the child put his thumb in his mouth, sucking at it just a little. Daddy said it was bad for him to do that.
"Otto," Grandma warned.
Still, Grandpa continued, "James, you are twenty two years old, you are still young and we can still fix this—"
Daddy laughed. Somehow, he didn't sound happy. He still sounded so sad, like he did in Room. Sometimes Tyler could make Daddy happy in Room. But it would never last very long. Still, Race loved it when his daddy smiled even for a minute. "Fix this…" Daddy breathed. "We can still fix this, we can still fix the past six years of my life, better yet let's pretend it never happened," he whispered. "Because if we just forget about it, then you can't be ashamed of me…" And just like that, it sounded like Daddy was crying again. "He's my son. I'm his dad, that's who I am now."
"Jack, let's talk about this—"
"Goodbye, Otto," Daddy whispered.
So Tyler rushed back to Bed and pulled the blankets over himself, gasping and trying to hide. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep as the door creaked open. Daddy said that good little boy's slept all through the night, especially when Spider was coming. But Spider wasn't coming again. Daddy said so. Daddy said Spider couldn't find them.
Bed shook as Daddy laid back down, taking Tyler back into his arms. Tyler kept his eyes closed and curled up, rolling over to bury his face in his daddy's chest. "You were someone else," he dared to whisper, wondering for a moment if his daddy would be angry at him for not being asleep.
Daddy sighed. "What?" he asked.
"Before you were Daddy," Tyler breathed. "You were Jack Kelly…" The boy felt disappointed, sad he wasn't there with Daddy before. He didn't understand why he couldn't be.
His daddy nodded. "Yeah… I was Jack Kelly…" he breathed.
Was.
"But no more?" Tyler asked.
Against his chest, Race could feel his daddy stiffen, like he did whenever the little boy mentioned Spider. Daddy didn't answer him. Instead he just let out a long breath. "Go ta sleep, baby…"
So Tyler closed his eyes. "I love you, Daddy," he mumbled.
"I love you, my Tyler James…"
The next morning was quiet. Nearly silent. Daddy hadn't said a word all morning. It was a gone day. At least, Racer had thought so until Uncle Specs had come into the room and sat by Daddy on the bed. Race was picking at the blanket, sitting crisscrossed as he watched his daddy rest and flutter his eyes open every few minutes just to look at him.
"Jackie… you have to get up," Uncle Specs said, brushing a hand over Daddy's hair. Daddy only peeked up at him before closing his eyes and rolling over onto his side. Then the man lifted up his hand and showed Uncle Specs one of his fingers. Tyler didn't know what he was doing. He titled his head in confusion. "Oh, that's a great thing to teach your son, isn't it?" Uncle Specs muttered before looking up at him. He reached out for him. "Good mornin', Tyler," he smiled. "Are you hungry?"
The little boy gasped and scrambled for the blanket, hiding beneath it and curling into Daddy's chest. The last time someone touched him like this, Daddy had gotten mad and cried. Tyler hated it when his daddy cried.
A familiar hand came down to pet his hair. Daddy still didn't talk. Daddy didn't talk on gone days. Tyler curled up beside him and whimpered a bit. "It's a gone day," he whispered. "You have to be quiet," he tried to explain, not daring to look up at Uncle Specs.
The old man squinted at him. Well, he wasn't old, not as old as Spider or Grandpa, but he was older than Daddy and a lot older than Race himself. "What's a gone day?" he asked.
Race saw Daddy roll his eyes before he was scooped up against his father's chest, resting his little head on his shoulder, his matted blond hair covering his eyes. He only peaked up at Uncle Specs who was following them now down the bumps that made the ground get lower. Stairs, Race reminded himself silently. That's what Daddy called them.
Daddy walked over to the couch and sat down, putting Race on the cushions next to him. These cushions were even softer than Bed back in room, so Tyler laid down on them, curling himself up on one of those big squares and brushing his long curls away from his eyes lazily as Grandma smiled down at him. "Hi, sweetie," she whispered. "Are you hungry? Teddy made some eggs for breakfast," she offered.
Without an answer, Tyler looked up at his daddy, crawling a bit closer to him and tugging on his sleeve, trying to crawl on his lap. Daddy just scooted him back onto the cushion and twisted around to stare aimlessly out the window.
Everything was different now. Maybe Spencer should have expected that, but for so many years he'd dreamed of this day, of being able to hold his baby brother in his arms and tell him how sorry he was, how much he loved him and how he would have given everything up to go back to that day and stop whatever happened from happening.
Now here they were. Jack was home, Jack was sitting right there on that couch but something was wrong. It was like Jack was right there, only… he wasn't. Like he was just a ghost. He was so skinny, almost terrifyingly so. He had bags under his eyes that looked almost permanent. There was a lost look in his eyes and no trace of the smile that used to define him.
And then there was a child, a stranger, a little boy who had no say in anything that was going on and was clueless about absolutely everything and who Specs just wanted to spoil rotten and get a smile out of.
It took far too long for Spencer to realize he was staring at them, wishing for them to just look up and smile and wave at him like nothing in the world was wrong. With a small sigh, he made his way to the kitchen. "Hey," he breathed as he passed Teddy. "Can you just serve up two plates for them in case they get hungry?" he asked.
The old man glanced at him, offering him that reassuring smile that had helped Specs get through the last six years of his life. Well, that was one of the things that had helped him. There were plenty of others, some that Specs would much rather forget about. "Hey, he's going to come around. This is gonna be overwhelming for everyone. Just… give him some time," Teddy assured.
Wise words. Teddy always had wise words.
So, taking a deep breath, Specs walked over to grab some mugs and make up some hot chocolate. Hot chocolate was Jack's favorite in the morning. Specs made him some, made Tyler some, made himself some. He dressed it up with peppermint and whipped cream and chocolate chips and then he took it out to the living room and set it down on the table above their still warm, untouched breakfast.
"Hey, Jackie…" Specs whispered. Neither Jack nor Tyler had moved. Mama was sitting in the chair beside the couch, sipping on her coffee quietly with a few silent tears trailing down her cheeks. Last night had been hard on everyone. Jack rubbed his nose on his sleeve, only glancing at him before looking back out the window. So Spencer sighed and looked down at the little boy. "Hey, Tyler," he smiled. "I made some hot chocolate. Do you want some?"
Once again, Tyler, that precious little boy that Specs couldn't stop thinking about, that little boy that had been given his own middle name, looked up at his father for permission. God, to think of Jack Francis Kelly as a father was terrifying. Maybe Specs had always been scared to see Jack grow up. Jack was his baby brother. Maybe they were only a few years apart in age, but it didn't matter. For so long Jack had been his responsibility, Jack had been all he had, he'd looked out for that kid and loved him more than anyone else, and then suddenly he was gone. Spencer could hardly bear the thought of that day, that day when everything had fallen apart.
His baby brother sighed and turned to the table, his shoulders relaxing a little at the sight of the familiar mug. Tyler crawled up closer to him, curling shyly into his side as Jack picked the drink up and stared at it, holding it in his lap like he wasn't allowed to drink it.
That little boy stared down at the cup too, looking as though he had no idea what it was. "Daddy," he whispered. Softening a little bit, Jack leaned down to his son. "Where's Grandpa?"
The tension came right back to Jack's body at that. He did not respond. He only curled up even more and turned back to the window letting out a long sigh. Spec's heart broke. "He had to go home for a little while," he explained gently, not missing the slight shake of his brother's head.
Mama stood up. "Hey, Tyler, do you want to play with some of these toys?" she asked, walking over to the pile of gifts that so many people had sent over for this child that no one had known existed.
Trying to hide behind his father's leg, Tyler shook his head.
A little boy who didn't want to play with toys. It was heartbreaking how terrified he was. Spencer still couldn't wrap his head around everything he'd been told, around the fact that this child hadn't even known there was another human on the planet, much less that there was a family out there that was waiting to bring him home. "That's okay, Tyler," Spencer assured. "It's alright…"
It wasn't alright. Nothing was.
His mother sat back down. She stared at her baby and his baby and Spencer stared at her. He remembered how hard his mother had cried when Jack had disappeared, her sleepless nights and her empty plates. That look was still in her eyes. Maybe that's why Jack hadn't looked up. Maybe he knew he'd see it.
But Spencer couldn't look away. Not for what felt like hours before his eyes longed for the sight of the only blood relative he thought he'd lost six years ago only to have his heart clench in his chest at the sight all over again, the sight of the ghost of his baby brother.
Maybe Jack was here. But he still felt so far away.
As always, thanks for reading! Make sure you tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! I'm thankful for all of you, babes!