There were six beeps and a buzz. Jack could hear them. He knew them. They echoed in his head like a familiar nightmare and Jack's eyes snapped open. He wasn't ready yet. He must've fallen asleep. Wait, he never fell asleep. With a cold realization that he couldn't move, Jack knew he must have been drugged. Spider would do that in the earlier days when Jack had the strength to put up more or a fight.

Still, he couldn't help but panic as he found his wrists were secured in place. "N-no, no, no, no… let me out!" he screamed. "Spider! What did I do?! Let me out of here!" It was a desperate cry, though not as desperate as the next. "Tyler!"

"Jack!" Everything in Jack froze. It was brighter than it normally was. A lot brighter. There were lights above him on a white ceiling and the beeping that had grown faster and faster was still ticking beside him. He tried to catch his breath. A soft hand ran through his hair and Jack let his gaze fall to the side where his brother sat beside him, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Shhhhh… you're safe," Spencer promised. "It's you and me. Mama went to get some coffee…"

Unable to breathe, Jack let his vision blur with tears. "Wh-what did I do?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "What'd I do?"

With a shake of his head, Specs sighed. "You scared the hell out a' me," he replied. "Out of everyone, actually…"

Pulling at his wrists again, Jack looked down to find himself restrained by soft cuffs that latched around his wrists. They were trapped at his sides. "Get me out of these," he pleaded.

"No," Specs said simply. "You need to calm down and we need to know you won't try something like that again—"

"Fuck you!" Jack screamed. "You have no idea what this is like!"

"Then tell me!" Specs demanded. "Please! I'm right here, I'm ready to listen, so please, tell me what it's like. B-because if I have to lose you all over again, boy, I don't know what I'll do, I swear, I—" the young man shook his head. "Jackie, I don't know what I'll do."

Swallowing hard, Jack tried to yank his wrists out of the restraints. "You wouldn't understand! You can't, so just let me out of these!" It was too hard to explain. He didn't want to.

Once again, his brother just shook his head. "You don't think I blame myself for this every damn day?" Spencer asked calmly. "You don't think that if I could go back and change everything, that I wouldn't do it in a heartbeat?"

Letting his struggle die down a bit at that, Jack looked up at him. "What are you talking about?"

A bitter, humorless laugh left Spencer's lips at that. "I was supposed to give you a ride that day, remember? You have to remember, because you came up to me and you asked if I could drive you home and I didn't, I didn't," he recalled, struggling to take in a proper breath. Jack always hated it when Specs cried. He was always so strong for him though. Specs was one of those big brothers that insisted on being so strong and put together all the time and it hurt to see him cry because he tried so hard to be the hero. "I'm your big brother, it's my job to protect you! You have no idea how destroyed I was when I found you that… that you have almost no chance of coming back home. I blame myself for that every goddamn day." He ran a hand over Jack's hair at that and Jack didn't even try to stop him.

"It wasn't your fault—" Jack tried.

"Save it," the older boy cut off immediately. "Just don't. You are all that I had for a long time. We were all each other ever had. And when I lost you, kid, I lost myself too," he breathed. "I've only been sober for a year now. I didn't think I would ever come back from that. I was in a real bad place. Then Mama and I, we were wrecked after dad left and… we didn't think we'd be okay. But we survived because we had each other. We survived because we knew that if we did anything else, you would be so disappointed in us."

With wide green eyes, all Jack had the energy to do was stare.

So Specs continued on. "I don't know what you've been through, not all of it," he admitted. "But I'm willing to listen, because I love you. I want to help you through this, so please let me in, Jackie. Please."

It was tempting, to say the least, to be completely open with someone. However, all Jack could think to say was, "you'd never look at me the same." He looked down, ashamed and scared, curling his hands into fists at his sides.

"Jack Kelly, cut the dramatics," Spencer sighed. "I'm your big brother. I'm always going to look at you like you're the pain in the ass you've always been!"

Though he wanted to laugh at that, Jack couldn't. He let tears trail down his cheeks. "That's not true!" he argued. "I'm not the same anymore! I never will be!"

"Just try me, Jack! Take a chance—" Specs dared.

"The only reason I haven't tried this before is because I couldn't!" Jack cried. "You don't think that I wouldn't have gotten away a long time ago if I had that option?" he asked, sniffling and shaking his head. "The Spider— whatever his name was… he knew how ta…" he cut himself off with a small whimper "A-all the knives were dull n' I got two pills until they were gone n'… I tried water but I couldn't do it…" His voice was wavering at the end. "When Tyler came I… I knew I had ta keep him bec-cause, Spence, I swear I was goin' crazy… that kid was the only thing that kept me sane. And then I knew that I had ta stay alive ta keep him from endin' up like me."

With a shaken nod, Spencer let out a breath. "You did that, Jack. You protected him. You got him out of there. You did something terrifying and it saved both of you. You made it out. Now it's time to let us in," he encouraged. "We can help you with your son, your biological son," Specs said, taking an official envelope out of his back pocket and slamming it down on the bed beside Jack, "that no one is ever gonna take from you. You just have to let us in…"

Shrugging as much as he could manage, Jack tilted his head. "I don't know if I know how ta do that," he whimpered.

Specs reached for his brother's hand, squeezing it tightly in his own. "We can learn together, just like old times," he promised.

All Jack could do was stare straight up at the ceiling and let the tears fall. There was no skylight. There was no TV playing. There was no beeping. Jack had no stopwatch. He didn't know what he was supposed to be living for anymore. Tyler wasn't here. But Jack was. Jack was here and he didn't know why. So he stared up at the ceiling in silence, letting Spencer hold his hand, waiting to be locked up in an entirely different prison.

There was an odd sound coming from down the stairs, a sound Race did not recognize. The little boy had been all alone for a long time. Almost a whole day. He'd played with his legos just like Daddy had wanted him too. He'd even tried to play with his other toys. But his daddy still hadn't come back to say he was doing good.

The sound didn't stop. Race his under the bed, thinking maybe Spider was coming with the odd, annoying sound coming from down the stairs. Instead, Teddy's voice began to call out, "Tyler James! There's a phone call for you." Slowly, Tyler crawled out from his hiding spot. He took the stairs one at a time from Daddy's giant room that felt even bigger now. He played with his long hair and watched as Teddy held something oddly shaped in his hand. Race recognized it from the TV, a phone. People used them to talk to other people. The boy didn't know how they worked, but he wobbled closer to it anyway, taking it and holding it beside his ear and waiting for someone to talk. Teddy flipped the odd thing around and then leaned down. "Say hello," he instructed.

"Hello?" the little boy asked shyly.

"Tyler?"

"Daddy?" The child looked around, as though he thought he may spot his daddy standing somewhere in the room with him. "Come back!" he demanded with a small stop. His daddy had never left him before. He'd never been without him.

The child heard the man sniffle from somewhere behind the phone. Daddy sniffled a lot, but this time sounded different. "I… I can't, baby. Not yet," he admitted. "Daddy's gonna go away for a while."

"Away?" the boy asked. "To a TV planet?"

"No—no," Daddy sighed. "Hey, kiddo, I'll be home just as soon as I can… it's just gonna be a little longer than I thought—"

"No!" the young child decided then and there. "Come back!" he cried again. "I decide! I decide for both of us!" He threw the thing down. It hit the wall and swung a bit as he rushed back up to the giant bedroom and burrowed himself in the covers, letting himself cry. Daddy always held him when he cried. Maybe he could this time too.

Daddy said he could decide for both of them. Now it was Race's turn. Daddy needed to come home.

He waited there all day. He supposed that Teddy thought he was just having a gone day. Grandma came in at some point to ask him questions and if only made the boy want to hide more. They didn't think he was smart, but he knew what was going on. He was five years old after all. He'd never be as smart as Daddy, but he knew what happened.

See, Daddy was in a big rush to get the aliens to fly him back to heaven. But he forgot all about Tyler. "Dumbo, Da'…" the boy muttered to himself as he peaked out into the room to see if his daddy had come back for him yet. Since his daddy had been in such a hurry to get back up to heaven, the aliens had shoved him back down. They broke him.

That's why Daddy wasn't back yet. The doctors were trying to put him all back together. Then Daddy could come home. If Tyler was there, he'd know exactly how to put Daddy back together. He knew Daddy better than anyone.

Still, his daddy did not come home.

Uncle Specs did. He came home when it got dark outside. He looked sad. Race had never seen him look that sad. Grandma came back soon too. Everyone was so quiet. Everyone was just having a Gone Day. That was okay. Tyler would just stay quiet and wonder around himself.

That is, until he heard a TV on. It was an odd sound, different that TV in Room. Still, he moved towards it to find Uncle Specs on the floor of Daddy's giant room.

The little boy let himself pad into the room, glancing around before plopping down beside Uncle Specs. He glanced up at him, but Uncle Specs didn't even move. He looked like Daddy for a moment, just a moment, when Daddy was having a quiet day. Sometimes Daddy would get out of bed, but he still wouldn't talk. Maybe Uncle Specs had those days too. So Tyler settled on the floor beside him and watched the TV. But this program wasn't one that the child recognized.

There were two boys on the screen. They were older than Race by a lot, but they looked happy. They liked each other, the blond one always had his arm around the brown haired one. The child watched them for a long while, cocking his head whenever the video changed to something else. The boys were growing and changing.

"Who's that?" the boy asked as the video changed again. It was the brown haired boy, he had a giant smile on his face. He looked all goofy, like he was so happy to be alive. He held a guitar in his hand and he was playing it very well, like he knew what every string did. Tyler had never played the guitar, but people on TV played all the time.

It took Uncle Specs a long moment to answer. He sniffled. "Th-that's your Daddy," he finally said, nodding towards the screen and wiping at his eyes for a moment.

But the child only shook his head. "No way," he decided as the video continued in front of him.

The man squinted down at him. "What do you mean? That's your daddy when he was younger, he was just a teenager," he assured.

Still, the child wasn't convinced. "Nah-ah," he stated again confidently. Fake Daddy on TV was laughing and making faces and dancing on camera. "Daddy don't smile like that…" he said, not noticing the heartbroken look in Uncle Specs's eyes when Race finally settled into his side and quietly watched with him once again.

The boys laughed with each other on the TV. Uncle Specs ran a hand over Tyler's hair and the boy relaxed beneath the touch, playing with his long curls between his fingers as he watched with a curious look on his face. "You know," Uncle Specs whispered, "your daddy used ta love bakin'…" he breathed. "He used ta make cupcakes with our mama, your grandma—"

"Cake like birthday cake?!" Tyler asked excitedly. "We made a birthday cake! A real live one! But Da' forgot to ask Spider for the candles, so it wasn't really real," the boy shrugged. Uncle Specs looked at him oddly, like he was sad and happy all at once. So Tyler turned back to the TV to see Fake Daddy make a silly face on the screen and laugh afterwards. "Is that really Daddy?" he asked, skeptically. Uncle Specs only nodded. "How come he don't look happy no more?" he whispered.

Uncle Specs didn't reply, he only let his eyes linger on that precious little boy as the videos he'd watched and memorized thousands of times over continued to play in the background. So Race did too. He crawled into Uncle Specs's lap and watched as the two boys laughed on TV.

They must've sat there for hours. Tyler was enthralled. None of this made any sense. That couldn't be his father. That wasn't Daddy, because Daddy didn't smile like that, he didn't laugh like that, Daddy was sad and worried and he went quiet for long amounts of time.

But that boy still looked like Daddy. He had Daddy's eyes and his hair and his face. "Is Daddy going to come back?"

The man holding him sighed and bit his lip. "Hey, tell you what, why don't we ask grandma to get us the stuff to make your daddy's favorite kind a' cupcakes, huh?"

The little boy's eyes widened a bit in wonder. "Can we send some to Da'?" he asked hopefully.

Uncle Specs melted a bit. "Of course, kiddo," he breathed. "Now let's go play downstairs, okay?"

The boy giggled, feeling safe and overall excited and having no concept as of why, because somewhere deep down in his chest he was still scared and hurt and angry at his Daddy for leaving, trying to leave for good. But Tyler brushed his hair out of his face as he decided he would make it better at all costs.

Grandma brought home the things to make cupcakes that night. She even let Race crack the eggs. "You're really good at that," she smiled.

So Race shrugged. "I did it before… in Room," he explained. "Daddy always let me."

"Wow," Grandma said, mixing some flour and other white powders together in another bowl. "That's pretty cool." The young boy did not pick up on the bitter and somewhat hesitant tone that she was using. "What else did you do there?"

With a small shrug, the child brushed his hair out of his face. "Dunno. Lots a' stuff," he stated, not even looking up at Grandma. "Sometimes I miss it…"

If only the boy knew how many hearts he could break. Medda paused and looked up at her grandson again, stunned at the realizations that came to her in that moment, this one thing that kept hitting her over and over again, that her son thought they'd never get out, that he thought lying to this little boy was the best thing for him and that he had been right because if one little thing had gone wrong, neither James Francis, nor Tyler James would have never been found. "It must've been awfully small, that room. Nowhere for you to play," she suggested, wanting Tyler to hate that place as much as she did. She couldn't get her head to wrap around the fact that that had been the child's home for his whole life.

With a shake of his head and those blond curls that bounced on top of it, the boy responded, "No, Room went on forever in every direction," he stated with confidence. "It never finished. N' Daddy was always there…" Medda looked down at that, wiping a tear away from her cheek and sniffling, swallowing hard. She wasn't expecting the child to keep talking. "But it was small in Wardrobe," he admitted.

Medda nodded. "And what did you do in Wardrobe?" she asked, adding all the ingredients to one bowl.

The boy watched with a sad look on his face. "Sleep. Just when Spider came," he stated easily. Medda had to bite her lip to keep from cursing at the man who had destroyed her entire world. "I wanna see Daddy."

Melting at that, the woman nodded, helping Tyler wipe his hands clean. "Oh, honey, I know. But your daddy just needs to be on his own for a little while," she explained gently.

Before the child could say anything else, the front door opened. "Hey, Tyler!" Teddy called from the doorway. Medda managed a smile and a false sense of surprise as she heard the sound of an old, rattling collar. "There's someone here who wants to meet you."

"Tyler," Medda sighed softly as that child looked in wonder towards the front door. "Let's go see, huh, baby?"

Tyler nodded, walking slowly over to a full view of the doorway. He gasped in a wonder Medda was sure she had never seen before. "Tyler," Teddy smiled. "This is Riley." The dog was small, its fur white and long and curly and it's big brown eyes looking up at Tyler excitedly. "She's real excited to meet you. Would you like to pet her?"

When the boy looked up at Medda for permission, she just about melted as she nodded wordlessly, letting go of the boy's hand she had been holding and watching as that smile grew so much in an instant. Riley was already loving Tyler, just as she'd loved Jack. The boy only giggled and petted her more.

The idea to walk her was Specs's entirely. Tyler had been terrified to step foot outside without his father holding his hand, but once Riley rushed out that door on her leash, there was no taming either of them.

Medda could've watched for hours as Specs pushed that little boy on the swing in the park or as Teddy chased Race around with Riley's help. For a moment, Tyler actually looked to be happy out there, even if Jack wasn't there with him.

It wasn't until that night that the boy seemed to remember that too.

Race stared down at the paper he was coloring. He missed coloring with Daddy in Room. Daddy was the most creative. He could make anything out of anything. Tyler was not as good at drawing as his daddy. He sighed, that sad little pout melting onto his face as he brushed his hair out of his sweet face, before grabbing it in his little hands.

Looking around, he knew what he had to do. So he slipped off of his chair and went out to the living room. Grandma was reading a book. "Grandma, I need scissors."

The old woman sat up, her eyebrows raised as she let her book shut in her lap. "For what, honey?" she asked, curiosity dripping from her lips.

With another long sigh, the boy looked down at his long, long curls. "I need to cut my hair," he decided, sounding only a bit hesitant of the idea, running his hands through it as he looked up at Grandma.

Squinting down at him, Grandma shook her head. "I thought that was where your strong was," she asked him, brushing his hair out of his face.

The boy nodded. "It is. But I think Daddy needs my strong more than me. He's hurtin', ain't he?"

Medda smiled sadly. "You know, I think what helps him more than anything is you, angel," she breathed.

Looking down, the boy said. "Can you take it to him?"

The woman smiled and nodded. "I think he would like that very much." She stood, setting down her half finished book on the coffee table and looking down at her grandson who all of the sudden looked just like her son. It made her heart melt. "I can help if you want, honey. Ya know, back in the old days, I used ta cut hair all the time. Mind if I lend a hand?"

The small smile that spread across that boy's lips made Medda want to cry for a long moment. That was her son's smile. That was Jack's smile. "Yes, please," the child mumbled, still very shy and quiet.

So the woman nodded. "Well then," she sighed. "Let's do this right, huh?" she asked, taking the boy's hand and leading him into the kitchen.

The next thing she knew, she had a pair of scissors in her hand. The boy had a towel over his shoulders to keep loose hairs from falling down his shirt and he sat up high on a stool, his legs kicking back and forth nervously, looking straight ahead.

Medda smiled. "Are you ready?" she asked playfully.

With a small amount of hesitance in his eyes, the boy looked back at his grandmother. He bit his lip. "Do you think this'll work? Do you think my strong can be Daddy's strong too?"

Cupping a hand around the child's cheek, Medda nodded. "If he let's it be his strength, then it will be," she whispered. "He loves you so much, baby. He told me it so many times. Anything from you will give him all the strength he needs, okay?" she asked. So the boy nodded slowly and faces forward once more.

"Okay," he decided quietly. "Do it."

So Medda did.

It was a short process after that. Tyler laughed at the long ponytail that was missing from the back of his head now. He watched her put it in a bag for his daddy and then she scooped him up in her arms and wished him over to the sink, her heart soaring when that little boy squeezed in delight. She laughing with him as they washed his hair in the sink. Medda coached him through it as Race lifted his head back up and shook out his short, now clean hair. Medda wrapped a towel around his head. "This is the best part!" she sang, she massaged Race's hair as she dried him off. "Are you ready to see it?"

The boy nodded excitedly. So Medda took that towel off of his head and let him look at his newly shortened hair in the mirror. The boy gasped in excitement. "Whoa!"

Medda laughed. "Now we can see that beautiful face of yours," she smiled.

The boy giggled. "I love you, grandma!" he said.

The woman froze, tears pricking at her large brown eyes as she looked down at that boy who had her son's smile and she melted. "Oh baby, I love you too…" she whispered.

And the little boy's smile melted into something gentler. He slid off of the stool he was on and he wrapped his arms around his grandma's leg. Medda put a hand in his hair and wondered how she was meant to wish none of this had ever happened when that meant she would never get to meet this little boy.

Tyler James Kelly. He was perfect.

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! Love ya, babes!