Tyed - Chapter 64: Chapter 64

"Mum, I'm going to fucking kill you," is the first thing Tyler says. Colby's hand falls from his shoulder. Tyler doesn't want to turn around and look at his face. Surely he can hear the fear in Tyler's voice?
Scarlett looks confused; Saxon's avoiding his face being seen; Tyler checks on Trey, and he's also looking at Tyler in confusion. Probably hasn't put the pieces together yet. Oh god. Tyler wishes he hadn't.
But his mum knows full well what he's talking about. Saxon must as well. "Tyler-"
"I'm leaving. I don't care. I told you so many fucking times-"
"That ain't the point of you being here-"
"I wouldn't have come if I knew," Tyler says, his voice locking in his throat, "if I knew he was going to be here."
Immediately, Tyler hears Trey struggling to speak, a "w-who?", in a panicked tone of voice that tells Tyler he knows exactly what the expected answer is going to be.
"I'm going home. Right now," Tyler says, walking towards the door. He hears footsteps following him, and Colby catches him on the exit.
"We're not going anywhere," Colby says, and Tyler's defiance meets eyes that simply don't care. Oh, how he'd love to see that in literally any other context. "We're not finished here. Nobody said- nobody said you actually have to go find your father and talk to him."
So he did realise. More likely from Tyler's actions, but still. He verbalises what Tyler was avoiding saying. Trey covers his ears, like he can make it untrue by not hearing what Colby just said.
"If he's here, and he's awake, he's not going to give any of us the courtesy of leaving us alone." Tyler's still angry, but he wonders if the pleading in his eyes is visible. It must not be, because Colby isn't budging.
"If the simple knowledge of your father's existence sends you running, you're never going to get over anything," Colby says, and he might make sense if everything Tyler knew about his father wasn't true. "Are you going to run away from everything that hurts you, forever?"
"Yes," Tyler spits, and tries to wrest away from his boyfriend. Colby doesn't let him go. "Let the fuck go of me-"
Carol finally forms words. "He's going to be asleep-"
"Not from us all yelling," Tyler returns. His feverish terror is rising. "Do you not remember, Mum? Do you not remember everything he fucking did to you?"
"We ain't having this argument," Carol crosses her arms. "You're just immature."
Trey's trying his hardest to block it all out. Tyler tries not to look at him. "Immature because I hate the man who made our lives hell? What the fuck?"
"Immature because- because you can't put aside your emotions for five god damn minutes-"
"It's not about my fucking emotions, it's about whether or not he deserves-"
"Do you think hating him is going to undo-"
"Let me the fuck out of here-"
"He's going to die, there's nothing he can-"
"STOP IT," Trey yells, and what that makes Tyler realise is not what, most likely, he should.
What he probably should realise, what he probably should think, is that it's got to be serious. Trey tends to be quiet, reserved, going along with what he's told. It's how he's survived so long. If he's yelling, he's got to be seriously upset. If he's yelling, Tyler has fucked up.
But what Tyler does realise, tangential to this thought, alongside it, is that if Trey is able to yell like this, able to overcome the fear that rises and locks down his throat every time he tries to speak- then something has fundamentally changed. From when he was fourteen until today at twenty-one, Trey has managed to undo a chokehold their father had on him, of keeping him silent and obedient; suffering without making a sound. Trey could break that, could yell and be heard. How cruel would it be to re-expose him to that chokehold again, just in case it got even the faintest grip on him again?
"I'm sorry for yelling, Trey," Tyler says, "thank you."
There's a moment of silence, in which Scarlett asks, "can someone fill me in on what exactly is happening here?"
"You didn't gather from context?" Tyler asks with a raised eyebrow.
Colby's grip on Tyler gently increases in slight warning, just as Scarlett turns away and scoffs. "Do you think this context makes much sense?"
"We've been yelling about our father, who pretty distinctly and obviously is a horrible, abusive person," Tyler says. Colby's grip increases. Tyler wonders what he could've possibly said wrong- and there's a cold, icy fear that creeps down his back when he thinks about his words and realises he said our father, almost like he'd accidentally but truthfully included his mother- but anyone who didn't know would just assume he meant Trey. Right? Who knows what Carol's told Scarlett- but still; Colby wouldn't know. Right?
Scarlett's head is in her hands. "I'm just so confused as to what this has to do with anything," she says.
Saxon stands up. There's a long second where Tyler wonders what Saxon is looking at over his shoulder, when Colby's not quite on that side. Then he realises that the sound he heard and associated with Saxon standing didn't quite occur  at the same time; Saxon's movement lagged.
Colby's fingernails bite into Tyler's skin; and there's a long, dragging breath. He can feel Colby's on his neck, and he knows the sound of it by now. He can see Saxon and Carol and Scarlett and Trey, all too far away and distinctly not behind him. He used to know the sound of any given person's footsteps in his house off by heart; Trey had a heavier clunk than Carol, who was airy-light and so careful. His father moved slowly and with purpose, but he was never loud. He knew exactly where he was going. Tyler would've known to look out for those footsteps if he hadn't been taken aback. And maybe the sound of someone leaning on walls, sleeves across plaster, disguised them. Maybe he hadn't had to analyse his surroundings like this, detailing every single noise and smell and flash of light, in a very long time.
But in the split second he does, he realises that Colby wasn't warning him not to be rude or anything quite as mundane as that. And he realises he's not going to get a chance to run.
—-
"Did you ever see your dad after he went to jail?"
Tyler was in the kitchen when Shouto asked the question. It was innocent, an air about it like Shouto wasn't even thinking. Tyler saw him sitting at the kitchen table, laptop and textbook and notebook all open in front of him; Shouto was coping words down from his laptop, so it seemed. He often worked in the living room, for reasons Tyler never quite understood. Maybe he just needed to not feel alone.
Tyler froze for a moment, and Shouto, quite occupied, didn't seem to notice. Tyler considered his possible answers. Well, he tried; he kind of got stuck on wondering in what universe Shouto would think that a good or appropriate question.
"Why do you ask?" he finally settles on. He was just trying to make himself some tea, and now he holds the cup in his hand emptily, forgetting what the purpose of doing so was. His mind has simply faded from the current moment, in everything but this single line of conversation.
Shouto sighs. "There's a lot here about jail sentences we're supposed to understand. I was just thinking if jail's like we're always seeing in movies and stuff. Have you ever been?"
Shouto wasn't close with Tyler in high school; he was kind of friends with Nancy in their final year. It's not like Tyler doesn't know him, or like he never spoke to him before moving in with him; it's that the turmoil Tyler went through in his first few years was something Shouto wasn't privy to. He simply didn't see it. After Kevin's death and Tyler's slow efforts to put on a face that wasn't as broken up as he really was, that's when he met Shouto, and Shouto wouldn't know just how much Tyler hates his father. Evidently, he knows he's in prison. Perhaps he doesn't know for what; or maybe he's just forgotten in the moment. Or maybe he's just kinda bad at social skills. Whatever the case, Tyler's hackles are immediately raised, and he doesn't think Shouto realises this.
"No," Tyler answers tersely. "My father is a demon."
Shouto pauses, looking up from his page now, although not looking at Tyler- just doing silent math in his head. "You're being metaphorical, right?"
Tyler blinks. "I don't literally think he came from hell. But if anyone did, it would be him."
Shouto still doesn't quite look at him. Tyler gets the impression he's oblivious to how out of place everything he's saying is. "Right. I kind of assumed so. I'm sorry for asking."
Tyler sighs and goes to take a sip of his tea, but it almost scalds him. He coughs. "It's fine. I guess I never told you how awful he was, huh?"
Shouto shrugs. "Not really. I heard something about a cult, but I assumed Nancy was exaggerating."
Tyler's interest is piqued now, and he comes to sit on the other side of the table. "You don't know about Darkfilly Copse?"
"No, I've never-" Shouto pauses mid sentence, and then looks up again, not at Tyler, but just at nothing, silent math again. "It's vaguely familiar. From class. I think someone mentioned it."
"In 2012," Tyler prompts, "the cult they broke up in the mountains?"
"North-east? Something like- I remember- it was Christian fundamentalists, right? A lot of child abuse?"
Tyler stares at him, waiting for pieces to click. If they do, Shouto doesn't show it, staring back at him like he's waiting for Tyler to speak.
"That was me," Tyler answers when he doesn't get it. "I was born there. My dad came from there."
"Oh." Shouto's eyes go wide. "So she was serious?"
Tyler shrugs and then nods. "Yes, she was serious. That's what my dad is in jail for. Said child abuse."
"Oh." Shouto seems to finally get hit with realisation. "Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry I asked."
Tyler sighs and shakes his head, not noticing the burn of his tea this time when he takes a sip. "It's okay," he says. "It's kind of obscure, really, what that means. I suppose it's plausible I could've still visited him, anyway."
Shouto nods, almost blankly, like he simply doesn't know what to say. He drums his fingers on the table, as Tyler sits in this long, long moment, an odd feeling like irons bars crossing his chest.
"Sometimes I feel bad," Tyler admits, "for not visiting him."
Shouto tilts his head, and Tyler realises how odd it is of him to say that. If you were to ask him outright, he never would've admitted it, because it made it sound like he wanted to, or thought it was a good idea, or didn't feel immense dread at the thought. None of that was the case.
"You don't... have to," Shouto says, and it's unclear why exactly he's uncomfortable and whether or not Tyler should shut his mouth. He doesn't.
Tyler waves his hand. "I know. I know. I guess it's just like- I know he was an awful person, I do."
"...but?"
"That's not the reality of what it's like to be there," Tyler shrugs. "You can sit here and logically know everything is fucked. He beat me. He raped me. You don't wanna know how my brother looked after he'd pissed Dad off, and little things pissed him off. My mum was pregnant at 13, 15. I get nightmares where I'm just sitting there looking at him, and sometimes I'm not even reliving things he'd do, just- just the way he'd look at me. And that's what's so fucked, is that all of that can be true. I can simply not imagine someone worse. He did about the worst kind of shit that an idiot who wasn't aiming to be the world's most evil serial killer could've done, right? So how fucked is it that sometimes I think I'm supposed to still love him?"
"Do you- like, why?" Shouto asks, "what's the feeling that makes you think you're supposed to forgive that?"
"Because it's not- he's a god damn human being, right? So it's not- it was never all anger or- or- whatever. I was always scared, but sometimes he did act loving. It was insidious and creepy and combined with all this fucked up shit, but when you're four years old and your father tells you he loves you, you think that's the best thing in the world even when he's a monster. He used to pat my hair, tell me I was good. Sometimes he'd forgive me when he usually wouldn't. Sometimes he did things with me that weren't all bad, right? Like one time him and Trey and I, we all just chopped wood together, that was it, and he talked to me like a human being. He was even nice to Trey. So I know in all of this that he was a monster and yet sometimes I see chopped wood and think fondly of a day I spent with my family and I- I can't cut him out of that memory."
"Do you need to sit down?" Shouto asks, and Tyler wonders if that blurred vision is tears or not. He doesn't think he's crying.
"I'm fine," Tyler says without stopping to think about whether or not it's true.
"But you don't actually want to see him, right?"
Tyler shakes his head. "I don't know what would happen to me if I did. I don't- that thought, that he wasn't all bad, doesn't ever last long. Especially cause all the nice things were always tainted."
He doesn't go so far as to spill to Shouto what happened after most of the times his father would hug him, kiss his head, tell him he was gorgeous. He wants to vomit thinking about it. But he thinks of one single day that his father was nice to Trey and that's enough to make him feel guilty for hating how evil he was every other day of his life.
But he does think about visiting him. Just a little, just wonders what would happen.
Wonders if that would be enough to change his life forever, to send him back spiralling, to ruin any chance of recovery he ever had. To send him after Kevin.