Chapter Text
"Last night when Zack came, he gave me his watch."
A heavy silence overtakes the small office and Tyler draws a deep breath in through his nose, closing his eyes as he waits for the sound of pen gliding over paper.
The clock's second hand ticks once, twice before that familiar sound fills the silence. He blinks open his tired brown eyes once more, immediately finding focus on the doctor's hand.
"That was very nice of him," Dr. Hoffman starts, carefully placing her notes on the desk. She folds her hands together and rests them atop the writing pad, tilting her head ever so slightly as she looks at her patient.
Again, the silence settles over the room and the psychiatrist's eyes remain on Tyler- which only seems to emphasize the hollow ache in his chest. So he looks away, and she frowns.
"Tell me more, Tyler. This is the first time you've told me anything at all without extensive prying. How'd the visit go?"
His brows furrow together and his nose scrunches up.
"—It was nice, I guess."
"You guess?"
"Yeah. There's not much to really say."
The blonde woman purses her lips, not quite ready to give up on getting Tyler to talk. After a moment, she picks up her pen and scribbles something down.
"So why'd he give you his watch? And where is it?"
Tyler shifts in his chair and parts his lips, pausing as he tried to gather his words. And finally, he does.
"We don't have to do this, you know—"
Doctor Hoffman quirks an eyebrow and leans back in her chair.
"Do what, Tyler?"
"This. Everything. You don't have to pretend to care and try to get to know me or whatever."
He taps his fingers against the arm rest of his chair, before clicking his tongue and rising up.
"I'm tired, Doctor Hoffman. I'll see you around."
"Tyler, wait!"
Tyler doesn't wait. Instead, he shows himself out of the office and walks silently back to his room, effortlessly ignoring the calls of his name. No one will stop him; they don't seem to try anymore. Perhaps they were all tired, and like Tyler, didn't care to try anymore. It'd be a month today since he'd been on the unit, and he hadn't seemed to improved at all, anyways.
Finally making it back into his room, Tyler collapses backwards onto his stiff bed and sighs. It's quiet; Chris' side of the room is empty now, with him having been discharged two days prior. Meaning that Tyler was alone with his thoughts. After a minute or two, he glances over to his make-shift night stand and reaches for the watch that rest upon it.
It was 4:16 PM.
It would be 3:41 AM when Tyler's eyes would snap open again, to the static whir of walkie talkies and scuffing feet.