Heart - 21. Ducks in a Row

"You don't have to stare, you know!" Vladimir didn't even look up at his sweetheart while he continued writing down addition and subtraction sums on a piece of paper.

"But I like you!" Tyson protested, poking his tongue out.

"So are you going to stare at me forever?"

"That's exactly what I'm going to do, Vladiminty Chai-Teasky."

Vladimir pounced and seized Tyson around the arms from behind, pinning them to his sides. Tyson squeaked and struggled - half-heartedly. He was sure, thanks to his athletic body, that he could overpower Vladimir if he really wanted to... but he liked it when his counterpart 'captured' him.

"What did I tell you about making fun of my name, Tight...son... Bell...something... Love-shit?" Vladimir squeezed him harder, and Tyson cackled.

"Good one, Vladoodle," he replied cheekily.

"Oh, you've done it now. I'm gonna count your ribs!"

Tyson's eyes bulged in panic as he struggled in earnest, but his body went weak as his attacker's fingers dug into his ribs and sent lightning bolts of ticklish agony through his body.

"One. Two. Three," Vladimir taunted him as they both erupted in giggles, refusing to let Tyson go as he playfully tortured him.

"Boys, cut that out, please," Janet sternly warned them from across the room. "You know the rules. No touching."

The boys reluctantly let go of each other. In times past, staff didn't mind so much that they liked to be physically affectionate or muck around. Nothing sordid, of course, but holding hands, play fighting and even cuddling together. It was all mutually consensual. Cynthia agreed that being able to express and receive affection was beneficial to Tyson's recovery, and even dickhead Ron didn't rain on their parade. But things changed when Charlie attacked Pete. As far as Tyson understood, Charlie was pimped out by his foster parents to paedophiles when he was very young. When Pete manhandled Charlie and pinned him down, the young boy completely snapped into some post-traumatic fit and bit Pete so savagely on his arms and face that he needed a lot of stitches. Now, the no touching rule was enforced by everyone on the nursing staff. No exceptions.

"Hey, Vlady... am I your boyfriend?"

"Yes. Yes, you are," Vladimir reassured him, lips simpering.

Tyson beamed. He knew he was. He just liked to hear it. Again and again! It had been news to Tyson that they were in an official relationship. Vladimir simply decided last Saturday that they were a couple for "about a month." He'd always liked the idea of men and been indifferent to women. It struck him as odd, but then again, thinking of his sexual identity wasn't a priority. He didn't have the time or opportunity to date and explore. But he remembered seeing Vladimir for the first time, and that brief friendly smile. He'd been smitten right away. Bella was a pretty girl, even with the scars all over the undersides of her forearms, but he never found her attractive.

"So, what's it like back there? In the high-dependency unit? Is it different?" Tyson asked, and Vladimir shrugged.

"It's basically the same, but a lot smaller and more open. The dining hall, common room and visitation are all in the same place, and all the rooms are attached. Everything's locked, and there are two nurses around all the time, plus your primary comes in from the nurse's station every eight minutes or so. It's boring as batshit in there," the older boy explained, sounding as though he'd rather not talk about it.

It was too easy to forget how sick Vladimir was in the beginning. He'd responded incredibly well to a new regime - a blend of two powerful antipsychotics, though it kept his brain foggy. He didn't hallucinate as much. Sometimes, but never as frequently as he used to. Sue sometimes joked that she missed the Vladimir jukebox - when he would sing along with the voice in his head. Now, he was going out with Masha nearly every day and returning some hours later. The next step would be to spend some nights at home, then if all went well, he would be discharged for good and attend an outpatient program - treatment in the community. Tyson wanted to do the same so badly. To play sports, sit at his piano, masturbate in his bedroom and then still be able to get support from Cynthia and Brianna.

The door to the high-dependency unit opened, and Alice spun her way through. She looked cheerful today. She often did, and it wasn't always a good thing, because it made it impossible to know when she was upset. On the other hand, Neil always looked like he was annoyed, so it was hard to know when he was in a good mood - which was more often than not, but it didn't look that way.

"Come in, boys. I need to make sure you're not bringing in anything that you're not supposed to be. No cords, shoelaces, pencils, plastics?"

"No, we just did some arithmetic for Charlie," Vladimir presented the several sheets of paper he and Tyson had been working on for the last half hour.

"Then we're all sorted! Come on in, and remember - use inside voices and be sensible," Alice warned them, swiping her card and unlocking the door.

Tyson was a little disappointed. It was precisely the way Vladimir had described it. A hexagon, with rooms attached to most of the walls, a horribly neutral blue-grey colour. Positive affirmations written on colourful cardboard leaves were stuck to a cardboard tree on the back on the door. There were three kids in here. Tyson had seen the older Aboriginal girl coming in some days ago - she had looked almost unconscious, wheeled in with her wrists and ankles strapped to the gurney. Another girl, perhaps thirteen, was napping on one of the comfy looking armchairs. Charlie was watching Bananas in Pyjamas on the television - another of his favourite programs. He looked so serene and content that it was difficult to picture him the way he'd been on Saturday - his hair, clothes and face slick with another boy's blood.

"C-man!"

Charlie had such a broad smile on his face when he heard Tyson calling for him, and he dove off the couch to awkwardly stand a foot away, chewing shyly on the corner of his freshly slipped pillow.

"Tyson and Vad! Hellooo!" He cooed at them, waving with his free arm while the other clutched his pillow tightly to his chest.

"Charlie, I've missed you! I didn't think we'd be back here again. Just like old times, hey?" Vladimir was so friendly with him. It was gorgeous. Tyson remembered when he, Vladimir and Charlie sat together on a couch to watch A Bug's Life, and Vladimir was happy to share his food with Charlie, whose fingers were often slick with his saliva.

Evan was working in the HDU today, as he often did. Close monitoring of patients was his speciality. Tyson thought he was sort of ugly. Glasses, some remnants of acne and a prominent overbite. He was friendly and sensitive, though, so Tyson knew Charlie was in good hands. The nurse to patient ratio was much higher in the intensive observation ward, so Evan could spend more time making sure Charlie was taking care of himself. It was just a shame that the twelve-year-old had to give up so many of his freedoms for it. He wondered how Charlie could survive without stealing all the cakes and treats from the kitchen. Indeed, since he'd been transferred, there seemed to be twice as many slices of banana bread for the patients to enjoy. Tyson had been present when janitorial cleaned up his old room and found his stash.

"We didn't know if you'd be interested, but we brought you some more maths to do if you're bored," Tyson presented him proudly with pages full of unsolved equations.

Charlie bashed the papers from his hand, looking cross. Oh. Okay then. He felt a little offended by that. Charlie had always been so enthusiastic about learning in the past. Maybe it was a bad time.

"You don't have to solve them if you don't feel like it," Vladimir tidied them up and left them in a stack on the round-edged coffee table. "We can watch Bananas in Pyjamas. It's your visit! We'll do whatever you feel like doing."

Charlie nodded and pointed to the television, and so it was decided. It wasn't exciting. As a matter of fact, Tyson was fucking bored. But Charlie was thrilled with their company, even if it was just to have them around again while he watched his show. Vladimir seemed to like the show more. He used to watch it when he was young, too. Tyson didn't. He never watched television unless it was the news. He didn't see the appeal of these anthropomorphic bananas who thought it was appropriate to go to the shops without getting dressed. So while Charlie and Vladimir laughed and talked and ran commentary, Tyson only watched them. He never imagined his boyfriend would be a schizophrenic and his best friend would be a traumatised mess with a pillow fetish, but it was funny how things worked out.

The HDU certainly was well managed, Tyson noticed. The Aboriginal girl was supervised at all times, and it looked very much like she heard voices telling her some dreadful things. She would mutter, get agitated, and her nurse, someone Tyson didn't recognise, would talk to her and remind her that she was safe. Charlie wasn't monitored as closely, but there were always eyes on them. Usually Evan's. With the six bedrooms as exceptions, there was nowhere a patient could be in this unit without someone seeing them. Tyson was so, so grateful that Cynthia agreed to let him stay in the open ward. He would not have done well in here. He remembered Chantal, that girl who provoked him into a physical fight when she arrived by insulting Vladimir. She went into the HDU and never came out again. He wasn't sure on the facts, but it seemed like she was so angry and violent that she had to be sent away to another ward equipped to deal with dangerous patients. That might very well have been Tyson's fate too.

"It's good to see you boys having fun, but I'm afraid I have to break up the viewing party," Evan approached and broke the news. He had a habit of speaking so softly that sometimes his words were lost. It was an inside voice Alice would be proud of. "Lessons in the education unit will be starting in a quarter of an hour."

When Charlie whined loudly, Tyson felt terrible. "Can I stay?"

The lessons taught by Petra or Dale in the education unit weren't mandatory, but the inpatients were all strongly encouraged to attend. Vladimir liked them. They broke up the monotony of his days. Tyson found them painfully tedious and preferred to teach himself Russian or thumb through Agatha Christie's greatest whodunits. Today, he'd rather spend time with Charlie. He must be lonely in here.

Evan shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"Why?"

"Charlie's busy today, but you're welcome to come later," the nurse suggested.

Charlie was busy? That was unusual. Tyson estimated that all of Charlie's appointments since he'd known the younger boy lasted a combined twenty minutes. He looked at his friend's face, and he was absent-mindedly suckling on three of his fingers. Was Charlie in trouble for what he did? Even though he only defended himself?

"Bye-bye, Charlie! Have an awesome day, okay? The other wing's not the same without you!" Vladimir waved him off, and Charlie shyly let a grin form around his submerged digits.

"See you around, C-man. Missing you," Tyson reluctantly let the baby-faced nurse escort them out to the other wing, and the door locked with a beep.

Vladimir lead the way to one of the couches in the sparsely populated common area, and they sat on opposite sides, as they would likely get a telling off if they were too close. He was so pretty. Tyson wanted to sneak somewhere private - some fantasy room where they wouldn't be disturbed - and kiss him for hours and days. And take off his clothes and touch him. And sit on his lap and cuddle and... hehehe.

"You're looking at me funny again. What are you thinking about?" Vladimir grinned at him, white teeth glimmering.

"How much I wish we could be alone," Tyson replied honestly.

"Yeah? What would you like to do if we were alone? And nobody was coming to check on us?" The pale boy's eyes glimmered excitedly.

"I don't want to say it!!" Tyson suddenly became overwhelmingly shy and had to cover up his face. "I don't even... really know! I've never been with someone before. I've never even watched porn!"

"You're so pure!" Vladimir teased him, reaching out and touching him on the leg when nobody was looking.

"Have you ever... you know. You know?" Tyson was too curious. Vladimir had an ex-boyfriend, after all. Did they do sex together?

"I've done things... yeah," Vladimir's face and neck had gone dark red since they began to talk about this. Tyson felt it too. An awkward heat.

"What things? With Alexey?"

"Hehe yeah, but I don't want to tell you! I'll tell you what. When we both get out of here, I'll show you!"

Vladimir never looked more alluring than he did at that moment. He was a little slovenly right now, truth be told, in a hand-me-down white tank top and black jeans that could use a wash, but his eyes and lips were so provocative that Tyson wanted so badly to wrestle him without clothes on.

"You wanna do sex stuff with me?" Tyson whispered. It wasn't because anyone was around. It was because he was so... charged! Out of his depth! Horny!

"Uh, yes. For like, ages! You're really hot! Sometimes when I close my eyes, I see you without your shirt on, and I'm like... ahhh!!" Vladimir giggled, biting his lip. "I bet you have a really nice butt."

"Vlady!!" Tyson's eyes went rounder than they ever had before, but he taunted his boyfriend by lifting his shirt to expose his flat tummy and dark nipples. "I like your butt. Your jeans always make it look so good."

"You've been spying on my butt! You perv!" Vladimir playfully slapped him. "How long have you been doing that?"

"Haha... literally since you first came in from the HDU."

"You know something," said Vladimir softly, nervously wringing his fingers. "I thought you were so cute. When Alice introduced us. I was so glad you came and sat with me at the table that day, even though I was totally out of it. And you were so nice to me, even though I'm schizophrenic. You didn't think I was a freak like everyone else did."

"Because of the fire? Or because of Alexey?" Tyson asked him gingerly, and Vladimir's eyes sank in shame and regret.

"You know about that, huh," he looked so ashamed that Tyson wanted to hug the sad out of him.

"Yeah. But I don't care. I've done some pretty fucked things too. You always forgave me for being such a tool. You basically gave me a reason to try and get better."

"I'm gonna miss you so much when you go. You'll come back to Australia, won't you?"

"As soon as I can! Like I'm gonna ever going to forget you!" Tyson reassured him. "I'll remember you forever, Vladazzle. Real talk. I sometimes feel like I only really started living when we met. Я не могу жить без тебя."

Vladimir seemed so overloaded on joy and affection that his whole body writhed and his smile was so broad his face looked like a cracked egg.

"I can't live without you either! You make me feel so special when you're going to the trouble of learning Russian for me! Ahhh my god!!"

They parted ways from there. While Vladimir went to the education unit, Tyson continued to study an introduction to the Russian language from the textbook. It was a lot more challenging to master without a structure, tests and his personal tutor. To learn a second alphabet was a trial as well, but it was a welcome challenge, and every time the Tchaikovskys came to visit, Tyson dazzled them with new phrases he'd learned and tickled them with his poor pronunciation.

"Soon, the only way people will know you're not one of mine is that you're a little more tanned than us," Masha had laughed heartily yesterday while hugging him close to her breast after he counted all the way to twenty.

Unfortunately, she wasn't as susceptible to the wide-eyed routine he'd grown to rely on to charm the nurses into slightly bending some of the rules for him.

"I have four sons. Do you think this one hasn't been doing the sweet eyes for nearly sixteen years?" She had gripped Vladimir's cheeks and smooshed them together while both boys laughed.

Vasily had returned to the oil rig and Masha wasn't coming in today - she was under the weather. Vladimir didn't mind. Because he was doing so well, he was allowed to leave the hospital every day so long as he had one of his parents with him and he returned in time for any appointments. Tyson came to every visit, invited by mother and son alike. Masha, and on weekends some of her other sons, would then take Vladimir for an adventure outside the hospital and return him afterwards. Tyson enjoyed a hug and kiss on arrival and departure, and he wished that his family would love him the same way. Sometimes, he even fantasised about being adopted into the Tchaikovsky family. With his skills in Russian rapidly improving, he could find a place in that community, no doubt! There were three years between Vladimir and Sasha, and Tyson's age fit neatly between them. For all intents and purposes, he could just be part of them and act as though he always had been. Though, he supposed, it would make a relationship with Vladimir a little strange, if they were brothers.

On his way to the kitchen in hopes of getting Alice to butter a scone for him and make some hot tea, Tyson almost ran right into Cynthia as she came out of the nurse's station. She beamed down at him, friendly and chipper as ever. In her arms, she carried her clipboard and a patient folder. She must have been gearing up to see either him or Vladimir - usually, the older boy went first.

"Hello, my favourite patient," she greeted him sweetly.

"I bet you say that to all the patients," said Tyson with a raised eyebrow. "Are you coming to see me?"

"I will be in around an hour. Will that be okay?"

She always asked if he was ready for an appointment. She didn't have to, but he liked that she did. It made him feel as though he had a hand in his own treatment. Only a few times had Tyson been in too negative a headspace to see Brianna, Petra or Cynthia, and they all respected his decision and rescheduled. He had that luxury. Although he was remanded to a public psychiatric ward, as he was deemed too high a risk for a private facility as far as the paperwork went, he had private doctors. His parents were paying a lot for his treatment - something he supposed proved that a tiny part of Edith did care about him, otherwise he'd be left with a public psychiatrist instead. Vladimir, on the other hand, was still allowed to refuse appointments, but they would not be rescheduled. Likely, he would have to wait another week.

"Yeah, sure."

He watched her turn and unlock the door to the high-dependency unit, and he wondered why. She had a third patient in the AIU, did she? Sweet. If he had it his way, she would be in charge of every teenager with mental health issues in the whole country. He respected her that much. As she let herself in, Tyson caught a glimpse of the name on the patient folder, and he audibly gasped. Charlie Maizels. That couldn't be right! Charlie was an orphan and a ward of the state, as far as Tyson knew. Due to confidentiality laws, none of the staff could discuss Charlie other than to warn the other patients not to touch him or the Jesus-pillow. Cynthia was a private psychiatrist. She charged a lot of money for her services. Charlie had nobody to pay for the support he badly needed, and the government surely wouldn't front the bill, especially after Chase Lovett soon came into office.

"Hey, Alice, who's paying for Charlie's psychiatrist?" Tyson forgot about his mid-morning snack and jumped right to interrogating the woman, almost tackling her to the ground the moment she emerged from the station to do her checks.

"Goodness, a heart attack you almost gave me!" She replied in her Irish accent, putting a hand on her brow.

"Sorry! But who's doing it?"

"You know better than to ask me, young Tyson. Rest assured he's going to be well looked after," was all she had to say. "Do you need anything, love?"

"Can I have some valium, please?"

"Mmm, I'm not comfortable with giving you a PRN after we've just increased your valium. I think it's better to ride it out until your lunchtime medicine, okay?"

"Mmm fine," Tyson agreed that was probably a good idea. He was so used to asking for his PRNs he forgot to think if he needed it. Now that he had a stash of pills in Kelly's care, he didn't need to get any extras. "Can I have a scone and some tea?"

"I'll do my round first, and I'll get right on it," she promised him, walking off and down the corridor.

He enjoyed the buttered scone - with raspberry jam - and his hot cup of milky tea. These were small pleasures he didn't have before he arrived. It was amazing to him how the little things made him so happy. Yes, Vladimir and Masha brought him most of his joy, but a sneaky scone, an occasional splurge on fried food and some time to relax and read a recreational novel rather than a textbook did a world of good. The raunchy discussion he'd had with his boyfriend began to return to him, though. Vladimir told him, essentially, that they'd do some sex stuff when they met up outside the hospital. Tyson had ideas. He didn't know the details, but he had ideas of what he'd like to do. What he'd like done! He wondered if Vladimir wanted to be the girl or the boy! He hoped boy. If Tyson had to be the boy or girl... he wanted to be the girl, he thought. Being the boy somehow wasn't as appealing. The idea of Vladimir being the boy when they did the sex got him incredibly hot and flustered. He already loved it when the older boy won their play wrestling and ended up on top. What if they had no clothes and then--

A knock on the door interrupted his fantasy, and he quickly adjusted himself on his bed to hide his erection, crossing his legs and putting his open book over his lap as he told the person to come in. Cynthia. Oh gosh, that could have been so awkward!

"It's been quite a weekend in the AIU, hasn't it?" She remarked as she sat down on that horrendous squeaky chair. "Oh, this friggin' seat!"

"You're being very aggressive, Cynthia. Such anger is unbecoming for a psychiatrist. I'd like to address the root cause of your hostility to squeaky furniture."

"Yeah yeah, okay smartarse," she instead sat herself down on the end of his bed with an amused smirk. "You know, the other day, right after a session with you in which we talked about coping strategies, I had a conniption in traffic because the teenager in front of me was too busy texting to see the light turned green."

"Oh, I'm already fucking furious just thinking about that slow mole," Tyson scowled, and she chuckled.

"I said something very similar, I admit. Slow traffic is a pet peeve of mine. And that chair? Oof. I'll have nightmares about it for years to come," she forked through his folder to catch up on what had been going on for him. Medications given, extra PRN medications requested, anything of note through observation. "What will we talk about today, young man? I'm not here for long, I'm afraid. My other appointments ran quite long, and I apologise."

"I'd like to formally request an immediate discharge," Tyson blurted out.

She hadn't been expecting that. Not even a little bit. She paused right in her tracks and looked up at him, her face nearly impossible to read.

"Do you mean you want some temporary leave from the hospital?"

"No. I know the difference between leave and discharge. I want to be done with this place."

"Alright, just checking," she didn't react much. She closed his folder and crossed her legs. "Okay. But first, we need to talk about this."

"Sure, but I'm not changing my mind."

She didn't flinch. "Does this have anything to do with Sri Lanka?"

His blood ran cold, and he narrowed his eyes. He didn't tell her. Who did? Kelly? Edith? Vladimir? "What are you talking about? What does Sri Lanka have to do with anything?"

"I heard that you might be moving permanently to Sri Lanka after you return to your family. Is this something that worries you?"

"I don't know where you heard that, but it's not true," he lied. "I'm not going anywhere." This was not a lie.

"Alright, Tyson. So, why this sudden change of heart? What makes you want to leave so urgently?"

"This place is starting to just... have the opposite effect on me, you know? It was great at the start, but now it's driving me crazy. I mean, I get up in the morning then I eat, take meds, talk about shit and then sleep again. Every day. What's the point of it all? It's becoming counterproductive when I could be doing... anything. I miss being challenged. I feel fucking useless without it. I need to play soccer and swim! And I miss my flute. And I want to be able to hug my boyfriend--"

Dammit! That wasn't supposed to slip out.

"Boyfriend? That's quite sweet," her eyes shimmered happily in the overhead light. "I imagine it's quite a struggle. Hormones and rules."

"It's not about that. Don't focus on it, because I'm not. When can I expect to go home?"

She took a moment to consider, then she answered. "Tyson, you're on an indefinite inpatient order. There are protocols for discharging you. We need to release you to a carer, ideally your parents, and we need to have a strong discharge and recovery plan that you will need to actively participate in. And, most importantly, I need to believe that you'll be safe. If I'm worried that you'll deteriorate outside the hospital, then I can't let you leave until I'm confident that you'll be okay."

"Do you think I'll be okay?"

"I'm not sure. Do you?"

She lowered her gaze, and he again felt like she saw right through him. He didn't know how she did that.

"If I didn't think I was ready, I wouldn't ask. I dunno. I need to get out. I'm so fucking tired of checks and restrictions and not being allowed to play sports and shit. If I'm here too much longer, I'm gonna end up like Charlie."

"But what about the alternative? If you struggle outside of the hospital, what will you do?" She was scribbling down notes as she spoke to him, eyes flickering between the boy and the clipboard.

"I'll call your number, or I'll call triple zero. Or Vlad's mum!" Tyson told her confidently. "If I get desperate, I'll call people who can help. I don't want to die. Not really."

"I know you don't. I really do. You've come such a long way. My main concern is, and please forgive me for saying so, that the pressure of your environment would undo so much of the work you've done," she explained gently but firmly, and he sighed. "Look, I'm not trying to be unfair. Ultimately, I'm trying to keep you safe, even if you don't necessarily agree with me. I really think that discharge is something we need to work towards and plan for. I wouldn't be comfortable letting you go so abruptly. We need to do this right, okay? Rushing these things can cause bigger problems."

She was absolutely right, and Tyson was aware that under normal circumstances, he would welcome the idea of taking advantage of Cynthia's formidable resources to ease the transition. But as it was now, he had far too much to lose. He could not stay any longer. He trusted Cynthia, he really did, but she'd already bent the rules for him. There was no viable way she could stand up to Chase Lovett. Tyson was sure that if the amoral dirtbag wanted his son out rather than Edith, then Cynthia would never have been able to stop him. She would have been fired, blacklisted and disgraced. As luck would have it, though, he liked Tyson being locked away from the public eye. Having an aggressive, angry twerp for a son rather than the obedient, intelligent, ambitious social climber he needed for the positive press was a pain.

"Alright. I'm not going to die of boredom if I have to stay a little while longer, but I really do want to go home as soon as I can. What do we need to do?"

"I'm enjoying this healthy dialogue, Tyson. You've made one heck of a journey," she tapped her pen against her chin. "We're going to set up some initial appointments for you. I'll confer with Brianna, and we'll liaise with Petra - not Dale because I know how you feel about Dale," she and Tyson shared a laugh together. "We'll organise an outpatient program."

"What if my parents don't agree to this?""

"They don't have a choice," she replied coldly. "This all needs to be in place before I can green light your discharge. But you've been here for a very long time, Tyson. I'd like to use approved leave to ease you back into your routine. A shift as large as this one could be a shock to the system if we don't handle it delicately."

"Yeah, I suppose I can live with that, but my parents won't agree to anything like that unless it's legally binding," he reminded her.

"You're effectively an involuntary patient as far as the courts are concerned. If you fail to make your initial appointments as outlined by your discharge plan, then you will be investigated by the authorities. I'm not a lawyer, Tyson, but there would be severe consequences if your parents attempted to somehow... circumvent these appointments. Effectively, they could be charged with endangering a minor."

Tyson suppressed a satisfied smirk.