Heart - 27. Маяк

"According to reports, Chase Lovett has been remanded to a secure intensive care unit following an attempt at his own life in his isolation cell at Barwon Prison. Lovett was arrested a month ago, two days after an incriminating video made by his own son made the headlines and sparked a national manhunt. He now faces several severe charges such as resisting arrest, child endangerment, blackmail and obstruction of justice to name just a few, as detectives work tirelessly to uncover the extent of his political corruption."

"HAHAHAHAHA!!"

"Sources state that Lovett is being kept in protection away from the general prison population and assert that his near-death was not a result of fellow prisoners, but by his own hand. Lovett's trial is expected to last several months, and if convicted, he will spend the rest of his life behind bars."

"BAAAHAHAHAHA! Ahahaha!"

"Yeah, I thought you'd appreciate that," Janet locked her phone again and slipped it back into her pocket.

"Ahahaha! --hahaha!" Tyson was beside himself with gleeful laughter. "My-- hehehe! Edith-- she had a massive mental breakdown, and --hahaha!! AAAAhahahaha!"

"Okay, reel it in. Big breaths," Janet, her face usually as stony and grim as a gargoyle's, was merrily grinning at him.

"And Chase tried to-- to kill himself!! Ahahaha! Heeheehee!!" Tyson finished, beginning to wheeze. He knew it was in bad taste to laugh at their misfortune, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "That's the funniest shit. Oh god. Thank you, Janet!"

"Get a grip, will you? I don't want to accidentally kill you when you're supposed to go home today," the nurse teased him. "I'll be sorry to see you go. You've become part of the place. It'll be empty without you around."

"Really? I thought you couldn't wait for me to piss off out of here," Tyson dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief.

"Believe me, I couldn't! You've been the most difficult, disruptive patient I've ever had the displeasure of looking after."

"It's been amazing for me too!" Tyson poked his tongue out at her.

Her grin widened, and she rolled her eyes. "Now that you're on your way, I'm actually gonna miss you. I might even have to start dropping F-bombs every other minute to help everyone transition into our new Tyson-free environment. Are you coming out to lunch or do you want to eat in here?"

"I'll be out in a minute."

She nodded briskly and left him alone. Tyson took a look around. The last patient to inhabit this room before him was Vladimir. The boy went home, the same day Tyson arrived after the Lovett Scandal, as it was now publicly known, and the teenager filled that bed the next day when he was transferred into the general ward. He had a lot of memories of being across-the-corridor neighbours with the cutie who had become his boyfriend. To take his room after he was gone only felt right, and it was as though the memory of the schizophrenic Russian-Australian teenager still remained inside. It made him feel close to Vladimir, though Masha brought him in to visit four days a week - and two of those days, she dropped Vladimir off so the boys could be together without her acting as chaperone.

When the boys were patients, they were forbidden from being intimate in any way. Contact was against the rules - a rule that had been relaxed at once point, but strictly enforced when a boy assaulted poor Charlie and ended up with chunks bitten from his arms and face. But Vladimir was a visitor now, and he and Tyson were free to cuddle together and even kiss on the swinging sofa Vladimir had loved so much. The raven-haired boy wasn't completely cured. He still hallucinated. There was a woman's voice that spoke to him throughout the day, often commenting on his thoughts and behaviours and singing to him. But he didn't seem to lose his grip on reality so much now. And the more Vladimir settled into his new life, the happier Tyson felt for him.

Charlie remained in the HDU for some time while Cynthia gingerly and tirelessly worked with nursing staff, Violet in particular, to help her new patient slowly adopt a regimen of self-care. Though she wouldn't discuss Charlie's progression with Tyson, the Sri-Lankan boy visited his friend in the back at least once a day, and Vladimir liked to do the same every now and then. While Tyson began to unravel in the HDU after a mighty fifteen hours, Charlie seemed to do well in there. In the general ward, nobody paid any attention to him at all unless he was having a meltdown. In the intensive care wing, though, the nurses worked closely with him all day long. Then three weeks ago, to Tyson's joy and misery, Charlie uttered a weepy goodbye.

The AIU was ideally for adolescents in crisis, and though exceptions could be made, it was not a place for Charlie Maizels. He was kept there at minimum cost because treating him in a dedicated ward would be too expensive and challenging. However, with bull-headed and fearless Cynthia taking the reigns, she forced a long-term facility for special needs children to accept Charlie into their care. There, he would have his own tutor to teach him, dedicated staff to assist him in washing, grooming and adapting to everyday life, a team of professionals to help him unpack the significant trauma of his early childhood and, of course, Cynthia to oversee his progress.

When he left, Tyson cried for two days. Then when Cynthia personally brought him a horribly hand-written letter, Tyson was ecstatic to see that his pillow-snuggling friend had absolutely no intention of losing touch, and the two exchanged notes every other day. Tyson still sent Charlie pages of addition and subtraction to solve, and they always came back to him completed! From what the notes told him, Charlie didn't like the new place very much. They didn't let him have as many sweets as he'd like. But the tone shifted quickly, and Tyson would often read and enjoy pages detailing the minutiae of Charlie's days. He was doing well. Things looked good for him.

Tyson worked daily with Brianna to tease apart and unpick his web of psychiatric issues. Though he would have preferred to move on from the past and never give it a second thought, he understood that he needed to pick off the emotional scabs and disinfect them to avoid the risk of them festering. Cynthia was right. Now that he was separated from his parents' toxic control, he could put everything he had into being open, honest and active in his recovery. The thoughts of self-harm were always there, but they weren't so compelling now. It was increasingly easier to distract himself from those macabre urges with thoughts of Vlady's cute smile and blue eyes and round butt.

With the help of his treatment team, Tyson did develop more control over his base reactions and unpredictable emotions, but he never lost his sharp tongue or explosive temper. Several times in his interviews, the boy was provoked - both intentionally and unintentionally - into an abusive rant that invariably ended with a short timeout in the sensory room while he cooled down. Tyson liked the sensory room. He had a favourite toy to play with - an inflated elastic ball with a hundred tendrils that he could spring and twist and squish, and a preferred beanbag to lie down in while a nurse, often Evan, remained with him. For the rest of his stay in the hospital, he never saw the inside of a seclusion room - though dickhead Ron sometimes brought it up as a possibility if Tyson was being a brat. The boy wasn't intimidated. He knew Ron was all talk and couldn't help throwing some acerbic barbs the old toad's way.

"Tyson, come and sit with me," Bella, the teenage girl who seemed to come and go through a revolving door, often requested that he have meals with her.

He liked Bella, though she was a handful. She was too young to be formally diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, but all signs pointed in that direction. With her sat Meg, a severely depressed girl with a severe eating disorder, and Riley, a cheerful and talkative paranoid schizophrenic who regularly accused his family, the nursing staff and Jae, the main chef, of hiding mind-control drugs in his food. He was happy to eat with them.

With Charlie gone and Vladimir discharged, Tyson had become lonely in the hospital. But he remembered how much easier it had been when he had friends to talk to and laugh with, and he decided he'd try to pay the kindness forward and engage with every patient that came through. It didn't always work as well as he would have liked. An attempt to befriend an angry girl called Lisa ended in a mutual screaming match, and his first conversation with Riley had been a very long lecture about how mental hospitals liked to keep their patients sick with mind-altering medication because that's how they made a profit. It was worth it, though. Most of the poor souls that came through were scared and miserable. Meg, for example, sometimes didn't say a word all day, but she always liked to have meals - in which she pushed food around her plate and drank a lot of water - at his table.

"You made me so fat, Jae!" Tyson teased the likeable Korean chef, grabbing the tiny amount of excess on his tummy as Jae placed the chicken schnitzel down in front of him.

"Hey, now! If someone orders the gravy and the chips every time, that's not the chef's fault!" Jae mussed his hair playfully. "I hope they feed you at home. I'll miss you, Tys, but I hope I don't see you here again!"

Soon after, as Tyson finished up packing, there was a knock at his door. A check, maybe? Now that he was a medium-risk patient, the nurses only needed to check on Tyson every half an hour. It was a good feeling, to be able to go into the kitchen and make himself some hot milo - with more milo powder than milk, obviously. To sometimes eat his meals outside in the sun, and to swing on the sofa and wish Vladimir was there to be his big spoon. Last time, Cynthia was forced to keep Tyson's risk rating high enough to avoid Edith's lawyers from snatching him out from under her, and the strict rules caused Tyson a lot of frustration. It was an unfortunate situation that the surveillance and security measures meant to prevent Tyson from self-harming actively contributed to his desire to do so. This time, everything was so much easier - not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination, but even the smallest of freedoms made a huge difference. He never once abused his privileges, even when Angry Tyson flared up.

"Yep!" Tyson answered as he found room in his luggage for the shampoo Kelly had brought in for him.

Neil answered, and Tyson grinned. He still had a slight crush on the pretty, hard-bodied nurse. Some days ago, Neil had pulled Tyson up from the beanbag in the sensory room, and the boy had abused the opportunity to squeeze one of those firm biceps. Luckily for the Asian teen, his skin was dark enough to make his blushing not so obvious.

"Hey, mate. I thought I'd come in early and see you before you head off!"

Tyson turned around, and his eyes bulged when he saw the blond man holding an oversized card in his hands, and he flushed.

"What's that?"

Neil's grin showcased his pearly whites. Tyson didn't imagine he'd ever forgotten to brush. "We passed this around for the last few days in the nurse's station. Since you've been here for a while, most of the staff thought we'd send you off with something."

"You didn't," Tyson was a little taken aback as he took the gigantic card away from the nurse. "Oh fuck, you totally did!"

You're a star, so keep shining bright. xx Geraldine
You've come a very long way. I want to see you go even further! Goodbye and good luck! Love, Alice
Never be afraid to ask for help if you need it. Good luck, Tys. Evan
Miss you already, buddy!! Jae
It'll be so quiet from now on. Take care, Tyson. We love you! xo Sue
Good luck, Janet
You're a good guy. Don't ever forget that. I look forward to hearing certain swear words 95% less! Love, you mate. Neil
Remember your please and thank you! Good luck in your future endeavours, Tyson. We're always here if you need us. Violet x

"Hey, Violet signed this? I was always such a cunt to her," Tyson quickly put his hand over his mouth. "It slipped out." That was embarrassing. It took him all of six seconds to prove Neil's comment correct!

"A shame we couldn't do anything about your guttermouth," Neil raised an eyebrow. "No, Violet doesn't hold anything against you. She's a tough old bird, but she does it out of love."

"Can you thank her for me? And tell her I'm sorry? Also, I notice dickhead Ron didn't leave a message," Tyson remarked with a smirk as he looked at the other signatures. "Good. I'd have to throw the whole card out if he did."

"I'll do that," Neil nodded, ignoring the comments about his toad-like coworker. "I'm proud of you, Tys. You're a work in progress, but you've done a terrific job. Remember to stick to your treatment plan, okay? It's super important to--"

"I know, I know, I know. I'm gonna do it! You guys are cool, but screw coming back here again. Next time I have a breakdown, I'm gonna go somewhere with the internet!" Tyson declared, mostly in jest. "Really though, thank you for everything. Sincerely. You're my favourite one, and I don't think I could have done it if you didn't talk me out of using that pencil sharpener-- which I absolutely didn't take from the education unit, by the way."

Neil leaned against the doorway. "No, of course you didn't. Hey Tyson, if you do struggle and need support, you can always ask for me. Or Sue, Alice, or anyone who put their name on that card. We'll look after you no matter what. Have a great life, okay? You earned it."

Tyson said a few more goodbyes after that. They were shorter than Neil's, but not as sweet. Many of the patients, even those Tyson wasn't close to, wished him luck, and the staff did as well. There was an exception. Tyson did not say goodbye to dickhead Ron but made very sure to give a sweet, sincere, appreciative goodbye to all the other staff members in front of Ron. And then Petra informed Tyson that it was time for his discharge appointment. He returned to his room, grabbed his overstuffed luggage and wheeled it towards the interview room.

"Привет, мамочка!" (Hello, mother!)

"You don't need to call me that!" Masha was quick to give him the hug and kiss she always greeted him with, just the same way she would greet Vladimir when he was still in psychiatric care. "You look handsome today, my boy! " She couldn't help but fuss over his messy hair and his collar, to his delight.

Cynthia arrived shortly after, wearing a blue summer dress. As always, Tyson felt more relaxed when his psychiatrist wore smart but casual clothes. She felt more human that way. The doctors with white coats always listened to Chase Lovett's lies and sent the boy home where he would suffer all over again for stepping out of line. With her was Petra, petite, dark-haired and with big green eyes magnified to gargantuan proportions by her glasses. The appointment was nothing like the last one in which Edith tried to obstruct Cynthia in every possible way from being involved with her son's recovery. In fact, the Russian woman had gone through a similar process when she took Vladimir home six weeks ago. Masha actively asked questions about her role as Tyson's new carer, and she'd brought her very own folder for his prescriptions and appointments as well as her legal obligations for him.

Petra had a lot to say as well. She had been working as Tyson's social worker and liaised with his caseworker as the question of his next appointed guardian rushed its way through the children's court. Though Tyson had never been convinced that Petra was much more than a pleasant-mannered space-waster, she proved him completely wrong! In times past, she was bumbling and forgetful, and she seemed to give off an air of incompetence. With the children's court, though, she was efficient, fast and smart enough to take advantage of the buzz and publicity around Tyson's case, capitalising on the state's eagerness to see him comfortably and quickly settled - likely to satisfy those calling for Chase Lovett's head. With glowing recommendations from Cynthia, Petra and Jeanette - Tyson's new lawyer - the court decided to grant Masha Tchaikovsky guardianship of Tyson Belmont-Lovett.

Tyson couldn't leave without throwing himself around Cynthia, though. "Thank you."

"It's been my pleasure, Tyson!" Cynthia's hug wasn't as comforting as he would have liked. Masha did it a lot better. "This isn't goodbye, though. We have a lot of work ahead of us! I'll be seeing you next Thursday, and I'll ring to check up on you two boys on Monday. Remember everything we talked about, and tell Mrs Tchaikovsky if you're struggling with anything."

"And thank you too, Petra," Tyson shook the woman's hand, but he didn't want to hug her.

"Go on. Let's get you out of here," Petra had a surprisingly firm grip for such a small woman, and she turned to Masha. "Everything's in order, Mrs Tchaikovsky. Just make sure to cross the 'i's and dot the 't's and take good care of our Tyson, because you'll answer to me if you don't!"

The women laughed, and after one final wave from his psychiatrist, Tyson let Petra lead him to the airlock doors. He remembered the last time he was discharged. How scared he'd been. Knowing that he was going to be punished for his defiance. Steeling himself to overdose with the medication he manipulated Kelly into smuggling out for him. But times changed. For the better. This time he was anxious, sure, but he was excited. He had an entire future to look forward to!

School! Tyson was happy at his private college, but Chase had pulled him out of there to lend credibility to his story that the boy had gone to study abroad. It didn't matter. He found a new home at Oakfield Private Boys School, an academy for students with unique talents that offered a boarding house for those who needed a stable environment. Tyson was thrilled to be attending an academy that would challenge him. After all, if he was going to become a lawyer to defend the rights of vulnerable kids who were being abused by either their parents or the mental health system, he needed those grades! Throwing himself into education and getting busy again sounded like a dream!

Family! The family that had treated him as one of their own the moment Vladimir introduced him. Scary big brother, Dmitry. Needy little brother, Sasha. Annoying baby brother, Ilya. Masha, the woman who mothered him more in a couple of months than Edith did in fourteen years. Vasily, who worked tirelessly offshore on an oil rig to provide for his wife and his four boys. It sounded PERFECT! He couldn't wait to see the modest home for himself! He had his own room for when he stayed on weekends and holidays, but he would spend the weekdays boarding at Oakfield. It was an agreement he'd come to with his new guardians, a compromise that left everyone satisfied, including the courts.

Sports! Tyson was looking forward to chasing a ball, swinging a racket and swimming laps! Oakfield, according to Petra, had an Olympic sized swimming pool for its students to use! Being stuck in the hospital without a way to properly flex his athletic body was a big part of why he'd gone so stir crazy, but now he was almost drooling at the possibilities. Maybe he'd try gymnastics or squash or even cricket! Why the fudge not? Edith wasn't there to decide what he could and couldn't do. He could do anything he wanted.

Music! Tyson loved making music. It had always been one of the things that brought life into his flat existence. Chase broke his flute and destroyed his piano out of spite. But he was confident that in time, he would find a way to replace them. Maybe for his birthday or for Christmas, his new family would buy him a new cheap flute! At Oakfield, at least, there were music programs and instruments for the students to use. He was excited about playing some Johann Christian Bach again.

Freedom! Though he knew there would be rules at both school and his new home, Tyson was ecstatic about the chance to enjoy his teenage years! He made his boyfriend tell him all about the neighbourhood. Walks they could take! Friends he could make! Playgrounds they could visit - though Tyson pretended he was too old and mature to enjoy such things, he was curious about throwing himself down the tunnel slides he used to see through the car window as Edith drove him to his music lessons. And the nearby tram that could take them right up to the enormous multi-level shopping centre! Vladimir promised to take Tyson on a real date, though he warned his boyfriend that Masha was going to enforce some strict boundaries between them. That didn't matter. Boundaries were a small price to pay for enjoying everything else that life had to offer!

"Tyson! Earth to Tyson! Do you want to stay, or do you want to leave?" Masha asked him, interrupting his thoughts as he lingered in the airlock.

"No way do I wanna stay!" He pulled his luggage through the door, and Petra closed it behind him with a click. "Fudge this place."

Masha's lips simpered at the way he censored himself. "Good lad. We might not need that swear jar after all. Now, what would you like to do? Would you like to come and see your new home? Or would you like to go by your old house first?"

"Kelly's waiting for us. We better not fudge her around. I'll be fine," he decided as he strapped himself into the front seat.

Before she started up the car, she gripped his chin with her hand. It was a gesture that looked slightly aggressive as a spectator, but when Masha looked into his eyes and gently stroked his cheek with her thumb, he knew she was showing how much she cared.

"Okay. Let's pick up your things and then we'll head home."

Tyson's new guardian had a lot to talk about as she drove them to meet Kelly at the old house. He could barely keep up with her - she was every bit as excited as he was!

"Dmitry and Vlad share one room while Ilya and Sasha share the other, but rather than try to squeeze three boys in one room, we're going to use the guest room. You're welcome to stay in there - it's smaller than the other rooms, but you might appreciate the space while you settle in. We'll have to work it out with the other boys. Dmitry is open to the idea of sharing with you if you'd prefer that. Vlad won't be upset about the idea of finally getting his own room! He's been looking forward to Dmitry leaving home for a long time! But Vasily and I aren't comfortable letting you share with Vlad - obviously! - or Ilya, because as you know, Ilya has autism and he can be very high-maintenance. Sasha is keen to share with you too, but Ilya struggles with change, and I don't want to force him to move if he's not comfortable. And, as I already said, you're welcome to stay in the single if you'd prefer it. What do you think, моя звезда?" (My star.)

Tyson knew from the beginning he would never be allowed to share with Vladimir. It was a beautiful fantasy, though. Slipping into his bed every night and cuddling and kissing and... hehe. Naked things! Especially after Vladimir promised him a while ago that he wanted to do naked things! But now that the reality of going home and being an honorary Tchaikovsky was hitting him in the face, he shoved that fantasy aside and let himself be excited to share with Sasha. Dmitry intimidated him a little bit. The biggest Tchaikovsky was fiercely protective of his three brothers and especially Vladimir, so Tyson felt nervous around him. Sasha was very placid and somewhat dense, and he seemed to live on nothing but attention. But Tyson liked him anyway.

"Okay, I think I'd like to share with Sasha, but if Ilya doesn't want to move, then I'm happy to be in the spare room."

Somehow, the manor looked brighter and grander now that it was Kelly's domain. It was no longer a place where the mere presence of Chase Lovett oppressed everything and everyone inside. Edith's car was still in the driveway, and Kelly's trendy yellow Corvette was parked behind. As it was a school day, he wasn't sure that she would be home so early like she promised, but it seemed she was.

"Would you like me to come in?"

The question stunned Tyson. In this place, nobody ever asked him anything. They made demands and they enforced decisions. Thoughts simply weren't spared for how affected him. It was strange, and so, so comforting.

"Yeah. Please do."

The two climbed up the porch stairs together, and Masha gawked at the expansive yard. Tyson never appreciated it much. Bushes, hedges, some stony pathways, a few artful benches for garden parties and a small fountain, all separated from the road by an unfriendly spiked fence that rose twelve feet tall. It was easy to forget that the Tchaikovskys were a working-class family and Chase Lovett was a very wealthy man. This was what Tyson knew. For a long time, he'd been raised to think that anyone with less was simply inferior.

"Hey, you're out," Kelly greeted him halfway pleasantly when she opened the door. "And it's a pleasure to see you again, Mrs Tchaikovsky. Come on in."

"Thank you, darling," Masha smiled up at her as she set foot into the vast, grand entrance hall, painfully aware that she was the reason the house had been gutted of most of its inhabitants. "By the heavens, this place is marvelous."

Tyson felt a cold indifference as he entered his childhood home for likely the last time. Kelly had already packed for him, preparing for his permanent move to the Tchaikovsky house. Six luggage bags of clothes, books, toiletries and other trinkets - trophies, medals, certificates and awards - had been pushed up in a line against the wall. She seemed eager to be done with everything as soon as possible. He didn't mind. He turned his attention to her and smirked.

"Wow, Kel, where did you find those?" Tyson teased as she closed the door behind them.

"Har-har," Kelly straightened up her tank top. "Polly's dad made the same joke. How does it feel to be as witty as a man who thinks nobody notices that he holds his balls through his pocket all day?"

"Oh, gross," Tyson began to chuckle and hang his head. Murray was an old sleaze who glued his eyes to Kelly's breasts and buttocks since she was twelve years old. It was gross, but it was lucrative, so Chase never said a word. "So, why are you home, anyway?"

"In short, I'm dropping out of school and going on a long fucking holiday," Kelly revealed bluntly, and Tyson's jaw dropped.

"Why?" Masha asked her suddenly.

"You don't want to finish school?" Tyson asked her, wringing his hands. He couldn't help but feel like his actions had destroyed Kelly's life as well.

"No. Fuck this place. If I don't get out of here as soon as possible, I'm gonna be the next one to go to the funny farm and then our family will be four for four. I can always finish school another time."

"Where are you off to, then?"

"Germany. Spain. France. Nowhere. Everywhere. I know four languages. I may as well use them," she explained. "Everyone either pities me or hates me. I can't stand this place. Everything's fallen apart. I have no idea who I am or what I'm supposed to do. I just need to not be here anymore."

Tyson grinned. "Yeah, okay. I guess I know exactly how you feel, then. So, how are you paying for all this? And how are you paying for my school fees and my lawyer and my psychiatrist? I can't imagine daddy dearest is holding out his hand for you to gallivant around Europe or for anything to do with me. You're not doing anything illegal, are you?"

"You're not the only one with brains, thank you very much. I'll let you in on a family secret - Dad's not nearly as clever as he thinks he is. He knows fuck all about the law and left everything to his lawyers. What I'm doing isn't illegal - though some would probably call it a faux pas."

That clever bitch. Her veiled explanation was good enough for Tyson. It was easy to forget that she was a genius in her own right. She spent so much time being meek, obedient and suppressing her personality that Tyson had recently begun to realise just how little he knew about her. If she found a way to legally - though Tyson had learned how flexible that term really was - get her fingers inside one of Chase's many accounts, then he had nothing but respect for her. She didn't want to be his guardian. He couldn't blame her for that. But she was still determined to look out for him financially, by setting up payment plans for his psychiatric treatment and legal representation. It meant she cared, even if she didn't know how else to show it.

"You're not going to leave me forever, are you?" He asked her, feeling himself getting emotional.

She grimaced uncomfortably as he began to sniffle. "Don't start this shit. Come on. I'm not gonna just ditch you. We'll keep in touch. You know my number off by heart, remember? I'll be back. You still owe me a jam session, remember?" Tyson nodded and forced a smile, then Kelly turned to Masha and spoke to her. "Please take extra special care of him for me, and I'll cover any of his expenses. Talk to Jeanette if he needs a doctor or a dentist or school supplies or an excursion-- anything."

"He'll be just fine, darling. You promise me that you're going to take care of yourself!" Masha raised an eyebrow at Kelly as she put comforting hands on the teenage boy's shoulders. "Don't you dare make me tell Tyson that his sister's been kidnapped from some hostel in some dark corner of Europe! I'll march up there myself and drag you home by the ear."

"Wow. Okay," Kelly didn't seem to appreciate Masha's sense of humour much, but Tyson did. It was a sweet gesture. "Oh, I have something for you before you go. Wait right here!"

Tyson didn't have to wonder long. Kelly came right back in from the next room with a big smile and a black case in her hands. Tyson's eyes grew to be big brown moons in his face as he realised what it was. She handed it over to him, and he opened it up to reveal a brand new silver-plated Yamaha YFL-222 flute. Just like the one he used to play! It was so beautiful and shiny that he temporarily forgot to maintain his dignity and squeaked in joy, bouncing up and down on the spot.

"Oh, wow!" Masha exclaimed, her jaw hanging open.

"I know you love the flute, and I didn't want to leave without making sure you had one," Kelly explained humbly, but Tyson handed the treasure to his new guardian to hold while he threw his arms around his sister. "Oh, okay. We're doing this." She awkwardly hugged him back with a nonchalant giggle. "When did you become such a sook?"

"I love it so much! Holy spit, thank you!"

"It's nothing special! It's the same one Dad got for you," Kelly, used to suppressing displays of emotion, tried to shrug it off, but that wasn't who Tyson was anymore.

"It's everything special! Because it's from you! Ugh, you bitch, now I'm gonna miss you so much. Make sure you text me all the time. Please?"

"If that's what will get you to stop crying," she promised.

Tyson didn't look back when Masha drove them away, the car full of his belongings. He never needed to think about that house again. Brianna asked him once how he would write the ending of his story. Tyson told her that he wanted his parents and his home to be nothing but ashes. In a way, he made that come true. But that wasn't the end of his story. Just that horrible chapter. After a bushfire, shoots of grass will poke their way through the ashes and grow anew. Tyson could do the same. He would do the same. New school. New family. New flute! New life! And a new home.

He knew what to expect. He'd seen pictures. But it didn't adequately prepare him for the intensity of seeing his new home for the first time. A humble white house in a street that ended in a cul-de-sac, behind a weathered but freshly painted picket fence, decorated with a few rose bushes and a brick pathway. It was small and all on one story, barely larger than the entrance hall at his old house, but there was a quaint, sweet feel to it as Masha parked at the end of the red gravel driveway.

"Everyone is friendly on our block. We're a small community of mostly Russians here," Masha explained as she helped Tyson haul his baggage from the back of the car. "Our neighbours are very excited to meet you, but if you're shy, they will understand, okay?"

"Will they be weird about the fact that I'm not Russian? And brown?" Tyson asked her nervously, peeking over the fence at the wooden house next door.

"Not at all! You only now began to learn Russian, and you speak it better than most of their lazy children!" Masha laughed out loud, dragging him by the hand out of the sun and in through the front door.

Tyson grinned when he met Svetlana, Vladimir's rabbit. She was in a large hutch on the grass outside in the sun She was indeed as fat as Vladimir insisted she was! The inside of the house wasn't exactly spotless, but it was neat and tidy. There were a few unsightly cracks in the white paint in the hallway and some loose threads in the carpet, but it only made the place feel lived in and well-loved. At his old house, Tyson regularly felt as though he wasn't supposed to touch anything. There was no love there. It was all superficial. Here, it was warm and safe, and the smell of fresh bread and lavender lingered. He dragged his bag into the spare room and looked around.

It wasn't an exciting room at all, though Tyson was hardly disappointed. It was about a quarter of the size of his room at home - even smaller than his rooms at the hospital. There wasn't much more than a made-up double bed, two bedside tables and an antique cedar cupboard. It didn't have Tyson's piano, desk, bookcases and ensuite bathroom with the multiple jets in the shower. He liked it, though.

"I know it's a bit drab and sad, but we'll fix it up. I'm sure it will look and smell like a boy's room by the end of the week," Masha appeared behind him, looking like a dark specter with her all-black clothes and dark makeup in contrast to the white walls. She bore a frightening but charming resemblance to Morticia Adams, Tyson thought. Even with her name. "But Vlad will be happy to swap if you would like to stay in the big boys' room with Dmitry. Come and have a look."

He was eager to see Vladimir's room! And when he did, he beamed to himself. Two teenagers very obviously lived in here - though Dmitry was technically an adult, Masha often commented that he didn't act like it. It wasn't much bigger than the spare room. Two double-sized bunk beds filled out much of the far corner - the top one messy and unmade. Two wooden chairs sat at opposite ends of one matching desk, and a small television with a Nintendo thing - Tyson had no idea which one, though Dmitry must have mentioned it a million times - and books and DVDs scattered in a tall bookcase. Anime and video game posters decorated the walls. Those must have been Dmitry's. Fudging nerd. There were glow in the dark stars stuck to the roof above the top bunk, as well as some pictures high up by the crooked pillow and bundled up sheets.

"Can you guess which boy sleeps in which bed?" Masha asked.

"Vlady is definitely in the top bunk."

She laughed. "How could you tell?"

"Because he's the worst morning person I've ever seen! He sleepwalks until the sun goes back down!" Tyson explained, drawing further mirth from the Tchaikovsky matriarch.

Unable to stifle his curiosity as he climbed the ladder to look at the pictures on the wall. They were gorgeous! Vladimir was quite photogenic, it seemed. Perhaps Tyson was just biased, but he always looked so damn flawless. Pictures of himself with school friends, his brothers, his parents. He was always smiling in that cute, playful Vlady way, with his teeth on display and his eyes squeezed shut. One caught Tyson's eye more than the others. Vladimir was laughing, sitting on a picnic blanket in the shade of a tree on a sunny day, and a taller blond boy with glasses was kissing him on his cheek, his arms wrapped around him. Tyson felt a poignancy wash over him as he realised who it was. The boy whose memory still haunted Vladimir. The first one to hold and break that heart.

"That's Alexey. He was such a sweet boy," Masha commented, and Tyson saw that she'd approached and put her chin over the bunk barrier. "I took that picture down before Vlad came home. I thought it might help him move on, you know? But he made me put it right back up. He says it helps him remember that Alexey is gone. Two nights ago, my Vlad came to tell me that Alexey was sitting with him at the end of his bed, but then my boy looked to this photograph, and he realised that Alexey isn't really there. His mind was tricking him."

"I get all paranoid sometimes. I know Vlady is still sick. I know he might always be sick. And that's fine; I like him how he is. I like him a lot! But I always wonder if he only likes me because he conflates me with his ex. When he goes delusional, he thinks I'm Alexey. He forgets that I'm Tyson. I ask him to talk about it, but never wants to," Tyson admitted to her, feeling empty with the knowledge that the deceased guy once made Vladimir so happy.

"Hmm, no. I think differently. I think that the reason he sometimes confused you two when he was unwell is because he likes you so much, and it reminds him of the last time he was in love," Masha murmured, and Tyson cocked his head. "All he ever talks about is you! And you're a gorgeous boy, you really are, but I'm sick of hearing about you! Hehe. But don't feel that way, okay? Vlad did love Alexey. We all did. But that doesn't mean he loves you any less. He saw something awful happen to that boy, and he is still trying to process that. I know he'll talk about everything when he's ready. Don't pressure him."

He hadn't thought about it that way. The idea appealed to him. That it wasn't the ex-boyfriend that made Vladimir confuse them. It was the familiar sense of infatuation. That the feeling of love brought back echoes of Vladimir's last relationship, and his delusional state played with his perceptions of reality. Tyson wasn't sure how accurate that hypothesis was. It was so incredibly difficult to understand how Vladimir's schizophrenic mind worked. But the theory brought him comfort. He did feel loved when he was with Vladimir. In fact, he was now feeling bloody stupid for thinking that the boy only liked him because his mental illness confused his feelings for someone else.

Way to go, Scared Tyson. Cheers for that.

From there, Masha helped him bring all of his things from the car and place them in the spare room. She was just... terrific. She was everything he ever wanted from Edith, and it became so clear to him that he was going to be just fine here. Angry and Scared Tyson both needed to sit the fudge down, because True Tyson was determined to be the captain of this ship.

"Make sure you find your best clothes for tomorrow, моя звезда. (My star) You and I are going to have a tour of Oakfield, then I thought we might have fish and chips at the park, since you never got to come out with us when you were in the ward. How does that sound?"

"Это звучит потрясающе. Спасибо мамочка!" (That sounds amazing. Thank you Mother!) Tyson replied, doing his best to pronounce the words properly.

"Oh, very good! Not perfect, but very good!" She congratulated him with a pat on the back. "Soon, nobody will be able to tell that you're not really one of mine."

"Except that I raise the house's average skin melanin level by about nine thousand per cent."

Being praised for his hard work was something Tyson had been deprived of until recently. He wondered how things might have been different if Edith had encouraged him to succeed rather than punish him for failing. Punishment had an adverse effect, often causing Angry Tyson to snatch the wheel and pump out aggression - a consequence that usually initiated further punishment. Masha was aware that her new teenager wasn't going to be easy, but she knew that he was eager for love, affection and attention, and that he responded very well to positive reinforcement. Indeed, Tyson was keen to impress his guardian further and voluntarily "helped" her wipe down the surfaces in the kitchen. He'd never done housework of any kind before and had no idea what he was doing. The Russian woman laughed, handed him a dishcloth and showed him how to spray and wipe. Following that, she gave him a biscuit for his enthusiasm.

Three o'clock was an exciting time when it finally ticked around. Tyson sat in the back seat behind Masha as they went about the town to collect the horde of Tchaikovsky children. Ilya was first, still in primary school and waiting patiently by the front fence with a teacher. He was at first pleased to see Tyson, then immediately apprehensive, realising that Tyson was sitting where Vladimir usually sat on the way home from school. But then the conversation circled around to trucks. Ilya was obsessed with trucks and knew every truck of every model of every brand that had ever existed since the dawn of time, and Tyson had the privilege of hearing about all of them. Though Tyson had already heard about the fudging trucks in every damn hospital visit that Ilya had been a part of in the last ten weeks, he still made sure to give his new baby brother his full attention. It made the little guy happy. And after all, he'd be going to boarding school in a couple of weeks. Vlady was going to be stuck hearing about trucks full-time. Hah. Sucker.

Sasha was in his first year of secondary school! He was only a few blocks away. Seeing him with other kids his age, Tyson realised how tall he was. They were roughly the same height and build. If Kelly didn't bring in Tyson's clothes, he would have worn some of Sasha's things that Masha offered to lend him. He had bruises on his white, white legs from his lacrosse game, and he was incredibly shy when he bundled into the back seat. He and Tyson exchanged greetings, but trying to get Sasha to talk about his day was like pulling teeth, even for Masha. So, Ilya filled in the silence with more facts about fire trucks and the differences in sirens between emergency services until Masha gently told him that he's talked enough about trucks until dinnertime.

Tyson could barely contain his excitement as they neared Corin Creek High School a few suburbs away. It hadn't been more than twenty-two hours since he'd last seen his boyfriend, but there was never a reason not to be excited to see Vladimir! Early in their care together, Vladimir often spoke about a lighthouse. Nobody was really sure what it meant, as the raven-haired teen tended to speak "word salad" when he was in a delusional state. But over time, Tyson began to understand. The lighthouse wasn't literal - it was symbolic. A beacon of light that chased away the darkness. Vladimir, in his most distressed state, was always searching for it, but could never find it. Now that he and Tyson had become close, he didn't seem to be so desperate to find his lighthouse anymore. Tyson liked to think that he found it in their relationship... of course, he couldn't be sure. He did know that Vladimir was his lighthouse, though. When they were together, nothing seemed so scary anymore.

And as expected, he was out the front of the school under the shade of a willow tree. Not even the atrocious navy and grey school uniform could make Vladimir look any less terrific! Tyson blushed on sight, and Vladimir immediately ordered Sasha to the front seat so the two could sit together! The boys then awkwardly reunited in the confines of the car with a kiss and lopsided hug. It wasn't the romantic scenario Tyson had devised in his head, but it didn't matter! The two held each other's hand as Vladimir talked merrily about his day, including the dodgeball game he thoroughly enjoyed and reportedly sucked at, but there was something he had to tell his mother that made Tyson's heart drop to his belly. Oh, shit.

"I, ahh, only got 36% on my maths test. I'm sorry."

"Oh? That's not your best, darling. What gave you trouble?" Masha had some concern in her voice, but there was no hint of anger or disappointment. Oh.

"Rrrgh, simultaneous equations and every answer had to be on a graph. I hate graphs so much. I'm so bad at them! And it's not like I'm ever going to do my taxes on a graph," the fifteen-year-old sighed out loud in frustration.

"Well, we'll go through your textbook together after dinner and see if we can work out what went wrong, okay?" Masha decided, and apparently, that was the end of that discussion.

"Graphing simultaneous equations? They're a pain , but I can teach you how to do them if you like," Tyson offered.

"Okay!" Vladimir's face lit up, and Masha beamed at him through the rearview mirror.

"There you go, boys. We have our very own maths tutor in the house," the matriarch whooped.

Once home - Tyson had already begun to think of the little house as home - and the younger boys had settled into their routines, Masha pulled Tyson and Vladimir aside for a brief lecture.

"You boys are very close, and I'm not naive enough to think that you'll both want to wear purity rings until you're eighteen," she began, and Vladimir flushed pink behind his long, black fringe.

"Muuum! Don't!" He begged, but she only smirked.

"You make each other happy, and Vasily and I see no reason to come between you. But that being said, I expect you both to put schoolwork, homework and housework first. Feel free to have a kiss and cuddle in your free time, but be sensible and be safe. I don't want to have to spray you with the garden hose."

Tyson had never received "the talk" before. Dating hadn't even been a blip on his radar, or even Kelly's. He was embarrassed, of course, but Vladimir was mortified! Enough to give Tyson a fit of giggles at his expense.

"Oh my god, stop! We'll never look at each other again if you promise to end this conversation right now!" The older boy pleaded.

"Heh. It had to be said, boys. Love you," Masha teased him and brushed a lock of his hair from his face. "Love you too!" She plucked a curl from Tyson's head, pulled it straight and let it spring back. "Go on and get out of here. Behave yourselves. Dinner's at six."

The evening was unremarkable, in truth, but being an unremarkable evening was all Tyson ever wanted. He enjoyed watching some episodes of NCIS on DVD with Vladimir's arm snug around his shoulder - he liked being the little spoon when they cuddled. Dmitry came home and welcomed Tyson to the family with a rib-crushing hug, before intruding on the boys' alone time and prattling on about his day and the cute girl from the animation class he had a big crush on. Tyson had been apprehensive about Dmitry. Many weeks ago, Tyson shoved Vladimir to the floor during a loss of his temper, and Dmitry had never been quite as forgiving as the rest of the family.

"You're a neat little dude! But if you hurt my brother, I'll hurt you. Okay?" Dmitry warned him with a dangerous look on his face that chilled Tyson's blood - before he abruptly snickered. "Kidding. But really, don't."

Masha, with Sasha's help, cooked a delightful dinner to celebrate the addition of the Sri-Lankan teenager to the family. The котлетки - fried meat patties made of pork and beef - were the absolute highlight, and everyone enjoyed a bowl of ice cream with sprinkles for their dessert! Tyson volunteered to clear the table and stack the dishes, and that initiative gave Vladimir a push to assist - though Tyson suspected that Vladimir's main motive was to avoid being the one doomed to washing the dishes. Ultimately, the boys escaped that job for their contributions to housework, and it fell to Dmitry, who spent so much time complaining that Masha decided she would no longer cook for him until he apologised, dropped the attitude and washed the damn dishes.

Following that, Vladimir took out his textbook and Tyson ran through simultaneous equations with him for a while, then the boys took their evening pills. A combined dose of two different antipsychotics for Vladimir, and a benzodiazepine for Tyson. While Tyson was used to his medication, Vladimir's night time dose was potent, and it still knocked him flat on his arse even now. They went together to the spare room - now Tyson's room! - and lay down together on the bed - "door open, please!" - and Tyson played music on his shiny new flute. Vladimir, though impressed, couldn't keep his eyes open for too long and eventually began to gently snore. Tyson, not willing to give up such an opportunity, dismantled his flute and packed it away before slithering under his boyfriend's arm. Vladimir, mostly asleep, took the hint and cuddled the warm body close, and the boys dozed off for a time.

Masha, of course, had to ruin everything and sent a very groggy Vladimir down the hall to his own bed. But Tyson got over it fairly quickly. After all, he had over two weeks before he would commence boarding school! There were plenty of cuddles to be had. He kissed his boyfriend goodnight, and then he brushed his teeth, said some more goodnights and tucked himself into his bed before nine-thirty. Masha came in to plant a kiss his forehead and leave a cup of water for him on the nightstand before flicking off the light. Alone in the dark, all Tyson could think was how this had been the best day of his whole life. Even better, there was another day coming up tomorrow!

And another one after that!