Jack's head hurt. Jack's head had hurt since they'd left that hospital. It had been two days. A long two days.
The fact that nothing would ever be the same again was hitting Jack harder than it had before. His pop was gone, Teddy was always around somewhere and Jack felt awkward around him, like a misbehaving student all over again, one that always had missing assignments and fell asleep in class. His son refused to be in another room without him and Specs and Mama kept staring at him like he was made of glass.
Seeing his own bedroom again for the first time had made a joy rise up in him that he couldn't explain, but after a few hours of looking around, glancing at old sketchbooks and yearbooks and guitars, hardly able to look at them for more than just a few seconds Jack realized he didn't want to be in there. It was too hard, too frustrating. Everything was just a reminder now, a reminder of how his life has been stolen from him, how he could be out being happy right now and because of one chance meeting, because he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, all of that was gone.
Everyone told him to rest, just to rest and somehow he would magically feel better, somehow these thoughts in his head would stop whirling, these thoughts in his head that made him dizzy.
It wasn't like Jack didn't want to be here. This was the only place Jack had wanted to be for so long, six long, awful years. But Jack hadn't prepared himself for the way everyone would walk on eggshells around him.
The house was still quiet because mama shushed everyone anytime they did anything more than whisper. He wasn't mad at his mother, she was only trying to make him comfortable. Still, he would give anything for some sense of normalcy, anything to just get out of his own head.
Yet, here Jack was, holding a hand over his eyes as he lay on his back on the couch. He had nothing to do, nowhere to go. Everyone had moved on and left him behind. The worst part was, it wasn't even their fault. Still, Jack resented them, he resented the fact that those people got to have a life, that his friends moved on. Nothing happened to them. They just got to live their lives.
Jack sighed when he heard the little footsteps patter on the ground across the room. Tyler had been sitting next to him since Jack had laid down. He tried to get the boy to play with those toys, but Race refused, stubborn and terrified as ever. But now, as Jack allowed his eyes to adjust to the light in the room. That's when he looked over and saw his little Tyler James peeking out the window, standing much too exposed.
Those people had been outside with those cameras since Jack had carried Race inside. He didn't need more of this. He wanted everyone to just leave him alone and let him forget for just a moment. "Tyler, get away from the window," he insisted almost urgently, his voice still broken and tired. It just sounded normal now.
The little boy did not respond to him. He just stared out that window where there were so many people, so many flashing lights and cameras and people talking.
"Tyler!" Jack called again, unable to force himself to move at the moment. The child still didn't move.
It wasn't too much longer that his mother walked into the room. "He's fine, honey," she hushed, rushing to the door to open it for the lawyer. Jack just groaned and curled up further on the couch, using a pillow to cover his face. He did not want to do this right now.
A bundle of a small boy jumped onto his chest. Jack grunted just a little bit, sighing as he sat up and set the boy on the couch beside him. His son couldn't cling to him all the time like he was. He had to be a normal kid, Jack had to make sure he was just a normal kid. Even then, Race curled up next to him, tightening his little fists into Jack's sweatshirt. Jack only sighed, looking down at his lap. It was easier than looking at the man that was walking into the room.
Still, the old man smiled at him. "Good afternoon, Mr. Kelly," he greeted. Lord, was it afternoon? Jack didn't know. He couldn't remember. Time was blurring together. He wasn't cooking or looking at his stupid stopwatch anymore. Time didn't really seem to matter anymore.
Nodding a bit, Jack bit down on his lip. He glanced up, over to the kitchen entryway. His brother was motioning for him to sit up straighter. Out of a habit that refused to die, Jack did so immediately. At least something still felt familiar. He paid no mind to the child that looked up at him like he was a different person, because Jack didn't know what to tell him. He felt like a different person and like no one all at once. He felt confused and terrified but he couldn't tell his son that. So he took the old man's hand as it was offered to him and shook it, looking up at him like well mannered boys did. He was supposed to be a role model now. His kid watched everything that he did. He had to remember how to function in society so that Race could have a semblance of hope to be normal. "It's nice ta see you, Mr. Bunsen…" he muttered, glancing over at his brother and giving him a look, a look that said he clearly did not want to be doing this right now.
"It's nice to see you too," Bunsen smiled. "You're the man everyone's asking questions about. Everyone is very worried about you."
Clearing his throat a little bit, Jack nodded. "That's wonderful." He didn't necessarily mean for it to sound so sarcastic, but he wasn't about to apologize for his tone. Other people had no business in his life, especially those that had never given a damn about him to begin with.
Mama put a hand on his leg and Specs gave him a sarcastic thumbs up. Jack almost smiled at that. That right there was familiar. And Jack would stay in that moment forever if he could, pretending he'd somehow fallen through a time trap of some kind that sent him back six years.
Then his son twisted the fabric of his shirt. And Jack snapped back into reality. A wave of guilt swept over him as he looked down at his little boy. Those perfect blue eyes peered up at him. Jack melted. His son could still make him go weak in the knees. Tyler was the best thing he had, a sweet little boy that deserved better than Jack. Every time Jack thought about all of it, his head spun. He wished none of it had ever happened, that Room had just been some kind of nightmare.
But Tyler came from Room. Without Room, there was no Tyler. And Tyler was his baby and Jack wouldn't give him up for the world. It was all just hard to take it. There were too many moments where Jack felt like he couldn't breathe.
The conversation beside Jack went on without him as Jack played with his son's long hair. They talked about what was happening with the trial, how Jack's testimony would speed the process along and help bring justice. That wasn't justice, though. Prison wasn't Room. Room was much, much worse. At least in prison they have three meals a day and get to go outside, have visits from family and friends, write letters and sleep through the night without waiting for someone to come to abuse them every night. Well, at least that's what Jack thought, anyway. Maybe he was wrong, but Room had changed him.
He refused to be a part of the conversation. He couldn't do it. He already felt nauseous.
It wasn't until Jack had tuned out of the conversation completely that they actually wanted his attention. He was sitting on the floor now, letting his son play a game with him. Race was just trying to slap his hands. It's a game Jack and Spencer used to play when they were bored in the group homes where there was no TV and no radio. Race was just trying to slap Jack's hands before Jack pulled away. It was simple and stupid but it was easier than listening to the lawyer talk about Spider.
Jack never wanted to think about that man again.
"We really should talk about a media approach," Mr. Bunsen stated, waking Jack from his blatant disregard of the entire meeting. Somewhere deep down inside of him Jack knew he must've been acting childish, and if there was anything Jack had learned in the past six years, it was that he was not a child anymore. He was far from it. Still, all of the sudden people expected him to just make his own decisions, talk about finances and insurance. It made his heart race and his hands shake. He didn't want to be an adult. Sure, maybe he was a father, but that didn't mean anything.
Not in space. Only in Room. Because people were talking about Race not being his, about taking his boy away from him.
How much of a father could Jack really be if that was even in the question?
His mama shook her head. "Mr. Bunsen, we're not even close to being ready to talk about that. Jack hasn't even settled in yet," she insisted. Jack looked up to find Specs, but his brother wasn't standing there anymore.
"I do understand the caution, however there will be expenses that start coming up and just one interview will pay a lot of money—"
"How much?" Jack asked from the floor, not turning to look at the man as Tyler slipped his hands out from beneath Jack's palms and tried to quickly flip them and slap him. Jack barely dodged him. There was a reason he called his kid Racer.
Everything went silent behind him for a long moment, but Jack didn't ask again. "I'm sorry?" Bunsen asked, clearly not understanding what Jack was asking.
So Jack sighed. "How much would an interview pay?" he asked again, finally letting Race slap him.
He could feel his mama frowning behind him. "Baby, you don't need to worry about that right now. We've got the expenses covered—"
"Mama," Jack insisted again, finally turning to look at her. "How much would an interview pay?" he asked again. There was not a single part of him that wanted to talk to someone about what he'd been through. Not again, at least. He'd gone over his story once already. He was already tired. All he wanted to do was be able to go out in public without people offering him their pity and their charity. He didn't need that. He needed things to be normal again.
The lawyer adjusted himself in his seat and shrugged. "A lot," he offered simply, not going into much detail.
Looking back down at his precious little baby boy, Jack sighed. "I'll do it," he decided.
"Jack, honey, let's talk about this," his mama tried, but Jack shook his head and stood up. His son stood up too, clinging to his leg and Jack bit his lip, looking down at him, feeling as though he wasn't doing enough, like he wasn't worried enough about what the future held for this child. "Baby, come sit down," his mother insisted again.
Still, Jack shook his head. "I'm gonna go make me and my son some lunch," he sighed quietly. Everything he said was quiet. He was scared to talk too loudly. He didn't know why. "Do you want anything?" he asked.
With a heavy sigh, his mother finally spoke, "No, my love," she said. "Go take care of him, okay?"
That was all Jack needed to hear before he was out of there.
After that, it was another quiet night. Daddy didn't talk for a long time. He just let Race climb up his legs and jump on his chest and back when he laid down. He didn't seem upset by it, he just didn't react any more than patting the boy's hair and back. Daddy was laying down a lot. He said he was tired, but Race didn't believe him. He just looked sad.
Daddy used to count with him in Room when he was brushing his teeth. He said Tyler could have a bad tooth too, and Bad Tooth had hurt Daddy in Room. Daddy wasn't counting today. Daddy brushed his own teeth and swallowed some pills and looked like he was going to be sick in Toilet. Sometimes Daddy got sick before bedtime. He said it was normal. So Race believed him.
Still, something about that night felt weird. Tyler still wasn't used to this big New Room. He wasn't used to this giant bed. When Daddy would lay down, it made it easier to curl up next to him and sleep. But Daddy wasn't sleeping, not tonight. He was standing by the big window, staring out of it like he was going to break through it. He was only wearing his sleepy pants. Sometimes Race liked to trace the lines on Daddy's back when he couldn't sleep. It always made the little boy sleepy.
But Daddy didn't need sleep. Race's daddy barely ever slept and he was always fine.
Right now, though, Tyler just wanted to curl up to his daddy's side and go to sleep. So he let out an exaggerated sigh. "Daddy?"
The man didn't move. "What, baby?"
"How long do we gotta stay here?" the child asked, curling up under the heavy blankets and peeking up through the darkness at his daddy.
With a small sigh, without tearing his gaze away from the world, Daddy replied, "This is where we live now, Tyler." He said it like it was simple. Tyler still did not understand.
The night was long and Tyler hid beneath the blankets, pretending he was back in Room with Eggsnake and Bed. All of this was unfamiliar and scary and Tyler still didn't like the way everyone stared at him. He felt like an alien. Maybe he was one. Maybe he and Daddy were the aliens. Maybe they should go back to space.
So Tyler closed his eyes and tried to picture the rocket that he'd drawn so many times when Daddy was having a gone day. He always told Daddy he would make a rocket and blast them through Skylight and take them to all the TV planets so he could make him happy again. Maybe now they could just find their own planet and make their own Room. No one else. Just Tyler and his daddy. Maybe that would make him happy.
The boy drifted off while trying to imagine it all and by the time he woke up, Daddy was fast asleep. His arm was hanging off the bed beside him and his head wasn't even on the pillow.
In the mornings, Tyler would wake his daddy up and they would stretch and have breakfast and brush their teeth. Today though, Daddy didn't wake up so easily. So Race just sat and watched him. Daddy looked different when he was sleeping. Daddy looked… peaceful. Race didn't really want to wake him up.
Sitting there was taxing for the boy, however, as he studied his daddy's sleeping face. Daddy always told him he was bad at sitting still. He said Race reminded him of someone he used to know. Then Tyler would always ask who. Daddy never answered him.
After what felt like hours to the little boy, he slipped out of the giant bed and walked lazily over to the door that was cracked open. He ran his hands along the walls and through the books on the shelf before he peeked outside that door. It was so big and empty. Everything was so quiet.
Glancing back at his daddy, the boy took a big, brave breath and slipped out that door. He looked around for a long moment before he got down on his hands and knees and crawled over to the top of the cliff — the stairs. It looked like a long way down. Still, Race looked over it, wondering why he was so high up in the first place.
Then he sat there. For a long, long while, he sat there, wondering what the sweet smell was that was coming from way down Stairs. When the front door opened, the little boy scrambled back with a small gasp as Teddy walked in with Uncle Specs close behind him. "The balls on that guy," the younger one sighed.
"It's not worth getting worked up over, Spence," Teddy sighed, walking forward, out of Tyler's sight. "You're not going to exploit your brother, end of story…"
It looked like Uncle Specs had a lot more to say. So Race waited for it. Uncle Specs was interesting. He was a lot like Daddy, but Tyler didn't understand why. As the little boy waited to hear more of that voice, he found that no more words were coming, so he peeked over the cliff. Uncle Specs was looking up at him.
With another startled gasp, Tyler hid behind his hands. He needed to run back to Daddy and wake him up. He wasn't supposed to be out alone, his daddy would get mad and start crying because he wasn't supposed to be outside of New Room without Daddy. He peeked back up, getting ready to run, but Uncle Specs wasn't looking at him anymore. He had his hands shoved in his pockets and he was looking down, like Daddy did when he was trying to come up with a new game for them to play. Then he looked back up with his cheeks puffed up and his lips scrunched together. "Help me! Help me! I gotta get outta here!" a voice said from inside Uncle Specs's mouth.
Tyler gasped and scrambled closer, squinting when Uncle Specs's face went back to normal and he shrugged. "What was that?" he gasped, like he didn't have a tiny man stuck in his mouth. "Did you hear something?" Uncle Specs asked.
Tilting his head, the boy reached down through the bars of Stairs to poke at Uncle Specs's cheek. They puffed back up again. "Help! I gotta get outta here!"
The little boy's eyes went wide. "Hello?" he whispered.
"Hello!" the tiny man called back. Those big blue eyes widened in wonder. He stood very hesitantly and very slowly and used the bars of Stairs to help himself climb down. Uncle Specs squatted down at the bottom of the stairs. "I gotta get outta here!"
The child put his hands on either side of Uncle Specs's cheeks, like he did when he was trying to make Daddy smile, and he tilted his head. "Someone's in here?" he asked, staring at the man's lips.
"In where?" Uncle Specs asked before his cheeks puffed up again.
"I'm in here!"
"In your mouth," Tyler stated, as though it should be obvious. "I can hear them…" he whispered.
Then Uncle Specs opened his mouth. "Nope," he shrugged. "He's gone. I musta swallowed him." Tyler gasped at that, but Uncle Specs shook his head. "It's okay," he assured. "He always comes back. In the meantime, how about we go find you some breakfast?" he suggested, offering the child his hand. Tyler didn't take it. He didn't know what this man would do just like he didn't know what Spider would've done. He shyly twisted his hands around the bars on Stairs and swayed on his feet before he very hesitantly took a brave step towards the kitchen.
Uncle Specs smiled and walked easily past him, turning into the kitchen and Race very slowly followed him, the sweet smell meeting his nose as he did so, stronger than it had before. Teddy was in the kitchen too and suddenly Tyler wanted nothing more than to run back to Daddy. He hovered in the doorway, too scared to take another step.
While Race decided whether or not to run, Teddy turned to him and smiled. Tyler lowered his gaze immediately, biting at his lip. "Good morning, Tyler," the old man said softly. "Would you like some waffles?" he asked.
The child titled his head. "Waffles?" he asked.
The two men in the room looked at Race oddly, like he said something wrong, so he shrunk back, nearly running. He should've never left Daddy. But Teddy just served something up on a plate and set it on the table. "It's breakfast," Uncle Specs assured, patting the seat beside his own.
The little boy glanced back towards Stairs before he shakily climbed up on that giant chair while Teddy poured him a cup of milk. Something sticky and slimy was poured over the waffles and Race looked down at it and gasped at the shape of the off thing. "Mickey!" he recognized in delight. Then he caught himself, looking down like he was scared Uncle Specs and Teddy would get annoyed with him. Spider always got angry at Daddy when Daddy got too loud.
"You know Mickey Mouse?" Uncle Specs asked.
Quickly, Race nodded, afraid of answering too slow. "F-from TV," he whispered. "It's j'st TV… not real…"
Glancing up at Teddy, Race saw him make a face. That was when the boy knew he'd said something wrong, so he looked down at the floor. He felt like a giant. The floor was so far away. He was going to jump down and run, just like Daddy said to do. Run because he's a little Racer. But then Teddy said, "Mickey Mouse is very real."
Those blue eyes shot up at that. He looked between the two men and shook his head. "No way…" he breathed, not believing it at all. Mickey Mouse was just a drawing, like Dora.
Nodding, Uncle Specs stood up. "Oh yeah," he smiled, grabbing a picture off of the ginormous refrigerator. He came back. "Look… that's me and your dad with Mickey," he smiled. Tyler tilted his head, looking at the picture of two boys looking up at a big mouse with a smile on his face. He couldn't see their faces. Their backs were facing him. But that was Mickey Mouse. "Maybe we could take you to meet him one day," Uncle Specs said quietly.
"And Pluto?" Tyler asked so quietly it was barely a whisper.
Teddy put more stuff on the table. Tyler kept his gaze down. "Do you like dogs?" Once again, the boy nodded. "You know, your dad has a dog… she's a little older now, but she misses your dad a lot. I bet she'd love you," he explained.
With a mouthful of Waffle, Uncle Specs nodded in agreement. "She's real smart. Knows lots of tricks," he assured.
"I had a dog," Tyler whispered. "His name was Hammer," he explained softly. "But he ain't real… he lives in Room." Room, his and his Daddy's home.
But not anymore, Tyler supposed.
There were six beeps and the scraping of a door and for a long moment Jack could feel the cold air that he longed for on his skin before all of it was shut away again. Then a moment of panic came when he realized he'd fallen asleep. He needed to hide Tyler, he needed to be ready, but when he looked over, he was alone in a bed he hardly recognized and his son wasn't lying next to him.
A scream lodged in his throat like it did most mornings. Jack never knew if he should let it out or just swallow it back. Most mornings, he just swallowed hard and went on with his day. Today, everything just seemed that much harder.
Falling back onto the mattress, Jack found himself staring at the ceiling. He'd always been good at imagining. Six years of only imagining made him wish he wasn't, but the skill never seemed to want to leave him. The blank slate above him may have looked like nothing to the average person, but to him, it was a blank canvas ready for some paint. He saw him and his son, happy. Safe. And everything was normal and okay.
And then Jack blinked.
This was something he couldn't keep doing. Four walls and a ceiling. Four walls and a ceiling. Four walls and a ceiling. And he'd lay on his back and stare straight up right like someone was going to come save him. No one ever did. There had to be an end to it. Yet, the young man who was still only a boy felt helpless, unable to stand, unable to breathe. The walls were closing in on him and Jack pulled the blankets up over his face. He closed his eyes, squeezing them tight and trying to take a few deep breaths.
He rolled over, dreaming of the before days, the ones where he'd never been normal but he'd been a kid, a kid with a mom and a dad and a house and dog and a brother and a ride to school and the freedom to say he didn't know if he wanted to go to college or not.
All of that was gone now, and it was never coming back.
As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Much love, kiddos!