Always You | Tyler Joseph

Chapter Three

"I guess we lost our focus."

July 2017

Lennon stared at Tyler while Tyler stared at the floor. She wondered what was happening in his head. She always did. His thoughts were a mystery to her. She'd watched him countless times, drifting away into his mind. His eyes would fall out of focus and his brows would scrunch together, like he was trying to connect pieces to a puzzle only he knew about. She wished she could take some of the ever-growing weight off of his shoulders. He burdened himself with so much, because his pride told him that nobody else could handle it. He felt he had to be the one to find the answers to life's greatest questions. She wished, just once, he would let her in.

Even though she already knew what he would say, she still asked, "what are you thinking about?"

He came back to earth, barely glancing at her and shaking his head. "Nothing."

"It's not nothing, Tyler," she sighed. "I wish you would just talk to me-"

"I said it's nothing, Lennon," Tyler snapped.

She bit her tongue, holding back an argument. He was exhausted. He hadn't been eating or taking care of himself. He was a ticking time bomb in this state. Now was not the time to argue.

"You should take a shower," she suggested. "I'll clean up a bit."

"I'm not gonna let you clean up after me-"

"I'm not asking your permission," she stated, firmly. Tyler opened his mouth to protest, but sighed and conceded. "Go. You'll feel better."

Reluctantly, he got up and left. Lennon glanced around at the mess, and couldn't stop the tears from dropping onto her cheeks. She hated that he was living like this. She hated that he was hurting. She hated that she blamed herself. She wanted to rescue him, like he had rescued her so many times, but she couldn't. She couldn't fix him. She couldn't save him from himself, no matter how badly she wished she could.

She was wasting time crying. She was being selfish. This wasn't about her or her guilt. Right now, Tyler needed her and nothing else mattered.

She wiped the tears from her face, and grabbed a garbage bag from the cabinet under the sink. She picked up anything resembling trash and disposed of it, clearing up most of the mess. She wiped down the sticky counters, and fixed the furniture that had been thrown around. She didn't want to think about how it had ended up that way. She knew some of Tyler's breakdowns could get violent. She'd witnessed it firsthand two years ago.

Picking up the piles of clothes, she decided to do some of his laundry. As she walked through the house, she noticed there were barely any pictures that weren't of Tyler and Josh or his family. None of his wife. In fact, there was no trace of her living here at all.

Lennon did not like Alice, and Alice did not like Lennon.

Alice was gone most of the time and, when she was here, she was cold and distant. She never understood Tyler. Lennon had no idea why he stayed with her. Alice walked all over him. She controlled him like he was a child. Still, Lennon knew she had no right to judge his relationships. It wasn't as if Lennon was the poster-child for success in that department.

She stripped the sheets from Tyler's bed and replaced them with fresh linens. She resisted the urge to steal the bottle of cologne sitting on his dresser. She wanted to always be able to remember the way he smelled. It made her feel safe. It reminded her of home.

He was her home.

She forced herself out of his bedroom and began sorting through his kitchen, throwing out the things that had expired. By the time she was done, there was barely anything left. Making a mental note to restock his groceries later, she searched through the remaining items to find something to make him.

A part of her felt pathetic for tending to him in this way after everything he had said and done, but this was what she did. She picked up the broken pieces he created. She hated herself sometimes for the control she let him have over her. He had moved on, he had wanted her out of his life; and, yet, here she was running back to him to patch his wings. If she didn't, who would?

She'd throw away her pride every time if it meant keeping a piece of him in her life.

The box of Kraft Mac and Cheese in the cupboard is what Lennon settled on. She watched the bubbling of the boiling water dance around the noodles, and remembered when she used to make this with Tyler when they were kids. He thought she was a master chef just because she could follow the directions on the box.

Tyler walked into the kitchen, his hair still dripping with water, and Lennon forgot to breathe. She had been so caught up in her mind that she'd nearly forgotten that he was here. He was really here, in front of her. She wasn't dreaming this time.

He stood there awkwardly while she stared at him, waiting for her to say something.

She shook her head, snapping herself out of it and telling Tyler to sit.

"I made some food," she said, bringing the bowl of pasta over to him and placing it down on the table. "It was really the only option left."

"This is great...uh...thanks, really. For all of this. You didn't have to," he mumbled, still refusing to look her in the eye. His voice sounded timid and vulnerable. He wasn't in attack mode - at least for right now.

"I wanted to," she told him, honestly. "Oh! I almost forgot..."

Lennon opened up the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of ketchup, holding it out for him to take.

Tyler stared at the bottle, chest heaving up and down. He blinked his eyes rapidly; a singular tear falling down his face as he reached a shaking hand out to grab it.

Lennon sat on the other side of the table. She knew he still needed space and she was trying her hardest to respect that; even though all she wanted to do was run to him.

A small smile found itself on her face as she watched him pour the ketchup into the noodles. Even after everything that had happened she knew that, deep down, he was still the same boy she loved.

He ate quietly, sniffling occasionally and quickly wiping his face. He looked so vulnerable. Lennon wanted to protect him. She wanted to shield him from the world and take all of his pain away, but she couldn't. So she settled on sitting in silence with him.

The silence was so deafening that she nearly missed him whispering, "master chef."

In an instant Lennon was in tears, letting out a blubbering laugh. She swore she saw a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. It was enough for her. Tyler was still here. Her Tyler was still here.

"I didn't mean it. The things I said that night, I didn't mean it," he told her, shaking his head.

"I know," she said.

"I've said a lot of horrible things," he whispered.

"We both have," she admitted, honestly. "Do you think there is any chance of us ever fixing this?"

She asked the question, knowing neither of them knew the answer. They were a forest fire. You can't fix what you've already burned.

"Earlier, when you asked what I was thinking about, I was thinking about the first time we ever went to the treehouse. Do you remember?"

Nostalgia pained her heart as she replied, "how could I ever forget?"