44. Jae

Chapter forty-four

Jae

"You have no idea how hard it is for me, you being there. I don't know if you're okay or not. I don't know if you're being protected. Every time I turn on the TV, every time I look at the paper, every time I check my phone, I'm scared. Please be okay."

It's been four days since we started taping the letters back together.

Dax has been doing it in his spare time when he hasn't been at work or asleep. I've offered to help but he tells me no each time, that it's something he needs to do on his own; and I respect that. Part of me feels guilty that I haven't told him I also wrote letters, but I enjoy imagining the look on his face when I shock him with his own stack.

I am desperate to see the light in his eyes again, and I'm hoping the letters are what brings it back.

His words of pain, sadness and anger from that night have been ringing in my mind on an endless loop. And from the moment he falls asleep in my arms, until the moment he wakes when the sun the rises, it pains me to think of the names he calls himself and the way he thinks the world sees him. If I could take his negative thoughts away, I would in a heartbeat.

I hate how the person who means the most to me, thinks the most negatively about himself.

I wish he could see what I see.

And while he dreams, I find myself wondering, who would have cared for him if I didn't come back? Would he have stayed alone? Would he have met someone new?

Would he have met someone better?

Noah texted me soon after I left saying he's going to go back to the barracks. He apologised for the way he spoke about Dax and for himself mostly. After Dax fell back to sleep when we finished cleaning his room, I made sure to let him know he had nothing to worry about and if he needs to get away, he's more than welcome to come back. No matter what, he's still my brother. We're family. He was glad I replied, saying maybe in a few weeks when things with him have calmed down. After Dax had some time to himself, I was honest and told him everything that happened. He responded with a snort, telling me I was oblivious because even he knew Noah had feelings for me and that's why he became hostile around him. After explaining he had nothing to worry about and promising him a million times over with more than words, he agreed Noah is welcome back, too, and emphasised telling me if he tries to make a move on me, he'll gladly kick his ass.

Even though the last four days have been great between the two of us and he's back over at my house, I find myself unable to do things at night, spending the time he's asleep in fear.

Being so afraid I'm going to lose him again when I only just got him back.

Tyler and I have been keeping each other updated with how he is; but we both acknowledge there's a bigger picture and something important we need to address. Through messages, the two of us have been battling between multiple ideas to encourage Dax to seek professional help, but without directly saying so. I think it's obvious we're anxious about how Dax will react.

Scared he'll shut us both out. Or worse, he'll run.

Tyler has opened up to me that Dax was diagnosed with depression at an early age. He was glad when I told him I was already aware – that I've always known that about him. It was obvious he was relieved someone else knew. More so, it being me. Dax has been open and honest about his depression since we first met, and in ways he's embraced it. He's always encouraged those around him to speak about their feelings. "Don't lock your feelings away in a bottle. It'll just make everything worse," he told me once. I just wish he would follow his own advice. But as mine and Tyler's friendship has started to develop, I've noticed he's started to confide in me.

Yesterday we managed to meet for a coffee when Dax had locked himself away doing paperwork. I attempted to convince him into bringing Dax with him, but after he texted me saying he needed to talk to me alone, I understood.

"I don't know if you've noticed this, Jae, I mean, you probably have." He pauses, taking a sip from the coffee mug in front of him. "But Dax is different. The way he thinks and does things differently. It's been something I've always noticed. Our mum noticed it too. It didn't matter to us. He was still Dax, and nothing could change that. But as he got older, he started showing more signs. More people started to notice."

I go to speak after he pauses, but he quickly starts to speak again, so I wait. And listen.

"I don't know everything Dax has told you about me and our relationship – we haven't always been close, but I've always protected him. Especially when he thought I didn't. I broke a guy's nose for him once, cool, right?" He grins. Clearly so proud of himself. And honestly, I'm proud of him, too, because I'd do the same.

"I kept my distance from him on purpose. I didn't want to overwhelm him. He must have thought I hated him. But I didn't. Not one single bit. We kept his routine. We didn't interfere. We made sure he was as comfortable as we could, but in secondary school, a teacher approached Mum in confidence, explaining she thought he was showing signs of autism. The school SENCo got involved too. And Mum panicked. We both did. We knew there was something, I guess? But we never added a label to it. We didn't need to."

He paces his breathing. I can see in his face that this is hard for him.

"Tyler, we don't –"

"No, Jae, we do. He's my brother and I care about him so fucking much. I know you do too. Please just let me say what I need to because, I'm scared that if I don't know, I'll never be able to."

"I'm here."

He nods his head, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I'd heard the word autism before, but I didn't know much about it. Mum didn't either. It was all new to us. But the night she came home telling me about it, I sat up, looking into it as much as I could. I spent every spare minute finding out more and more because I needed to know how to help my brother. And the more I researched, the more I thought the same. I started getting the answers and explanations I so desperately sought without realising. Things started to make sense. No. Everything started to make sense. The way he preferred to be on his own than with others, the way he didn't like tags in his clothes, the way his music had to be a certain volume, the way he hit himself in the head when he got agitated. I felt like such a fucking shit brother. Then a few months after that, we lost Mum. And I didn't think twice about becoming his guardian. I knew him better than anyone else, I knew his routine. I knew the food he liked, the bedsheets he needed, the only shampoo he could use, everything."

I struggle to not have tears in my eyes. I've never seen someone so vulnerable before, and I never thought it would be Tyler in this state. I move my hand towards his, because he needs to feel grounded right now. He needs to know he isn't alone in this anymore.

"The way Dax is has never bothered me, Tyler. No matter how differently he or others may see him, he's no different to me. He's still the guy I fell in love with, no matter what is going on in that brilliant brain of his. I don't care. Nothing could change the way I feel about him. Not even autism. But where do we go from here?"

"I think he needs medical help, Jae. He needs what me and Mum should have got him a long time ago. I was just so focused on making sure he had the best life he possibly could. I should have done more; I should have pushed for the assessment."

"No. Don't beat yourself up like that. We'll talk to him. And if it's what he wants, we'll help him get it."

The conversation plays on repeat, similar to the way Dax plays his favourite songs again and again on his Walkman.

Would medical help stop the pain? The ongoing battle in his mind against himself?

But each time we come back to it, the worry of not knowing how he'll react rises.

While Dax has been working, and I haven't been sleeping, I've investigated how we would get an assessment as fast as possible. Further learning that people can often be diagnosed with just depression and sometimes, this isn't the only thing. And I know I shouldn't, but I can't help but wonder, what if that's what happened with him too. What if it's more than depression? We have also discussed that the best way for Dax to get an assessment would be to go private – he hesitated after we came to this conclusion. Costs are expensive, some cost thousands. But Dax is my family, meaning whether Tyler wants it or not, he's my family too.

With no hesitation I send the text,

Jae: I've researched private assessments; I've found a doctor local. Private. Not on the NHS.

Tyler: Yeah, I have too. But their expensive, mate, we can't rush into anything.

Jae: Don't worry about costs. I have it covered. We're family. You're not in this alone anymore.

And the three lingering dots from Tyler stop.

I can't help but smirk at myself, because I think I've managed to make Tyler speechless.

Tyler: I can't accept that from you. I'll work something out.

Jae: Dax is family. Which means you're my family too. The cost is covered. You don't need to worry about it. We just need to work out how we're going to speak to him about it.

Tyler: I'll talk to him; I think it's best coming from me.

Jae: Do you need any help?

Tyler: I think the only person who can help me right now… is Mum.