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Tyler had grown sick of the endless, steady beat of his heart rate monitor. He wanted to get up, to move around, to use the bathroom of his own volition, but no such luck was to be had. He was strapped down to his hospital bed because he was labeled a danger to himself and others and he was drowned out on sedatives to boot.
He let out the occasional grunt or groan as he drifted in and out of sleep, nurses waking him every now and then to check his vitals, or to give him more of whatever drug cocktail they were pumping into his system. He felt like he was burning up all the time, which was likely the result of his Hyde trying to work off the sedatives to no avail. The stuff they’d given him was strong . So strong that he slept a lot those first few days after the fight with the werewolf. No one besides the nurses had come to see him, in fact hardly anyone spoke to him unless they needed something.
Finally on the third day, his father came to visit.
Donovan lingered near the door, hesitant to come in. He cleared his throat and Tyler, with what little strength he could muster, turned his head to look at his dad. It took several painfully long seconds for Tyler to register his father standing before him, but when his gaze settled, hatred and hurt burned in the younger Galpin’s eyes. Donovan stood there in a simple flannel and grey tee shirt, humbled. He looked remorseful, and he should–so Tyler thought.
“Did you know?” Tyler croaks, surprising himself with the harshness of his voice. He hadn’t spoken in days, his vocal chords rusted over from disuse. Still, he pressed on. “Did you know about the Hyde?”
Donovan paused his slow step forward, feeling caught. He nodded, albeit slowly–reluctantly. He said nothing more, but Tyler realized he had plenty to say for the both of them. The boy cleared his throat and spoke again, his brows furrowed.
“You knew what was happening to Mom and you didn’t tell me ?” He seethed in quiet anger. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“Tyler, please. You have to understand, I could never find the right time to tell you.” Donovan stressed. He sighed and took a seat in the chair at Tyler's bedside. “It was never the right time.”
Tyler balked a disbelieving laugh. He shook his head and bit his lips as the words bubbled inside him.
“What does timing matter when I could’ve known at any point that it wasn’t my fault?” He asked, his voice a little louder, a little fiercer. “That I wasn’t the reason she was sent to Willowhill in the first place? That I wasn’t the reason she took her own life?”
“Whoa, hey, no, no, what’s gotten into you?” Donovan cut in as he leaned in closer to Tyler. He jumped back when Tyler outright growled at him, and then cleared his throat and sat upright, his shaking hands stilled against his thighs. He chose his next words carefully. “What happened with your Mom was… complicated, and painful, but her death had nothing to do with you. Tyler, your mother was troubled–”
“Troubled? Really?” Tyler asked, disbelieving, “That’s what you’re going with? When you know what I am? What we are?”
Donovan fell quiet at that. It took him a few seconds to come up with a proper explanation, a justifiable answer, but instead of doing so, he apologized. “I’m sorry, Ty. That wasn’t what I meant.”
“What did you mean, then?” Tyler pressed.
“I meant that your Mom was going through a really hard time when she left us, and now, so are you. This… This condition, it’s–”
“Trouble?” Tyler offered bitterly, making Donovan wince.
“It weighs on you.” Donovan finished, swallowing hard. “And I should’ve never let you carry that weight alone, not after the conversations your Mom and I had about it. I’m sorry.”
“I wasn’t alone, though,” Tyler said. “Marilyn helped me. She guided me, showed me what I really was. All while you were too scared, too caught up in finding the right time to tell me what really happened. But now she’s gone, and I’m in here, and your apologies… Your apologies mean nothing to me.”
Donovan goes silent once more, stung by his son’s words, though he supposed in some way, he understood his rage.
“You’re right to be angry with me,” He said softly, “I failed you, son. I did. I’m sorry that you had to find out about your Mom this way, from… from her . Your Mom… you deserved to know her more than you did. I’m sorry I took that away from you. I thought that if I kept you from her memory that it wouldn’t hurt so bad, but I didn’t realize that it was hurting you anyway.”
Tyler sat there, stony faced and silent as he watched his father. He hadn’t expected his dad to admit to being wrong, much less for failing him, and he could see the weight that that statement held in the way Donovan’s shoulders sagged. His face was downturned, but Tyler could still see the way his mouth opened and closed as though trying to decide what to say. Once his mouth sat in a firm frown, Tyler sucked in a breath and waited.
“That woman–Marilyn, you said her name was?” Donovan asked, to which Tyler nodded hesitantly. Here comes the lecture , Tyler thought. “She didn’t want anything good for you, you know that, right? She… I… I talked to Wednesday–”
“You did what? ” Tyler sneered, trying very suddenly to sit upright only to be caught by the restraints. He exhaled sharply out of his nose, frustrated, then flopped back down. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“I had to know what happened, and she had the answers, son. What else did you expect me to do?”
“Mind your business, maybe?”
“Mind my–” Donovan started laughing at that. The sound made Tyler’s blood pressure rise.
Don brought his hand up and wiped at his mouth, then scratched at his beard as he took in the brunt of the statement. He turned it over in his mind, then said, “Mind my business? Tyler, you’re my son. Your life is my business.”
Tyler scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Donovan challenged, his brows furrowed.
“Oh, like you have ever given a shit about what I’m doing with my life, Dad.” Tyler spat, turning his face away from his father to look at the barren wall to his left. “You just needed to make sure I wasn’t causing any trouble, and when I was, that I was punished for it.”
Donovan is taken aback. Tyler’s words are like a shot to the chest. They knocked the wind from him momentarily. He swallowed, feeling a surge of anger at his son’s words, but reminded himself that he doesn’t know when he’ll see Tyler again. This could be his last chance for a good long while to connect with his son, to right the wrongs he’d made. He clears his throat, dispelling the weight of words held between them,
“I’m sorry you feel that way, son,” Donovan says, his voice low and gruff, not completely unaffected as Tyler so often saw him. “I never intended to become your warden, but I suppose good intentions only go so far, huh?”
Tyler finds his rage tempered by that. He nods. “You got that right.”
“I just want you to know…” Donovan started, “I love you, Tyler. Don’t forget that, no matter what happens. I will fight for you.”
Tyler’s brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”
“It means that I’m not going to let them do what they did to your mom, to you.” Donovan explained gravely, his voice low. “I won’t let them take you from me like they took her.”
“Dad, what are you talking about?” Tyler asked, sounding stressed. “Mom– Mom took her own life–”
“Yeah, that’s what they told me, too.” He grumbled half under his breath, shaking his head. “I swore to protect her, you know? And when we had you…”
Donovan sucked in a breath, and if Tyler wasn’t mistaken, he could see the beginnings of tears form at his dad’s lashline. The heat in him died down a little more, and then a wave of dizziness hit. He blinked hard, trying to recalibrate. Just when he thought he was back on solid ground, his father said something more.
“They’re taking you to Willowhill, son.” Donovan says after a minute, the words muffled through the cover of his hand near his mouth. “They’re transferring you tomorrow morning. That’s why they let me come and see you.”
Tyler took this in, nodding slowly. “What does that mean for me, exactly?”
“I’m not sure,” He answered honestly, rubbing at his beard. “But you’ve gotta promise me one thing.”
“What is it?”
“Don’t let them take you down, okay?” Donovan said. “No matter what kind of… shit they throw at you, you take it. Don’t fight back, they’ll only use it as an excuse to punish you more and I–I need you to come back to me in one piece, you got it? I’ve got a plan–”
“A plan?” Tyler repeated, a little louder than necessary.
“I can’t say much right now, but trust me, alright? I’m still your old man.”
“Yeah you are pretty old.” Tyler grumbled as he yawned and started to fade out of consciousness. He closed his eyes because it was the only thing to stop the vertigo. “I need a nap…”
“Tyler?”
“Yeah, Dad?”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.” He muttered, not sure if he’d remember his own promise when he woke up. “Night night.”
Donovan sighed, and rubbed at his face. “Goodnight, Tyler.”
He set a hand on Tyler’s arm as the younger Galpin drifted off to sleep. “Goodnight.”