Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

7:13pm, Saturday, June 18, 1988.

It was a warm summer evening, the sun still high in the sky, a heavy heat blanketing over a quiet little ranch in Chillicothe, Ohio.

Laura was preparing dinner as Bill was finishing up the evening chores around the ranch. He reached down, picking up a bound up hay bail, slinging it onto his shoulder. The sun beat down heavy, already showing the farmers tan on Bill’s arms. He looked up and squinted at the bright yellow sun in the sky before hauling the bail of hay into the stables.

As he dropped the bail onto the ground, a soft whistle sounded from far out in the fields. When he turned his attention out to the vast acreage, what looked like a shooting star caught his eye. However, shooting stars don't tend to make a whistling sound. And they don't tend to get bigger, or closer…

Instinctually, Bill abandoned the stables and bolted towards the barn house, swinging the back door open and running towards the kitchen, wrapping his arms around his wife and pulling her to the ground, acting as a human shield overtop of her as a loud crash and bang was heard. The ground shook as the object landed, causing the dishes in the cabinets to shake, and the wood of the house creak. Out in the stables, horses neighed loudly in fright.

As soon as the explosion and it's lasting effects died down, Bill slowly stood up, holding Laura close to him as she shook. They both looked at each other, both thinking the same thing, as any young couple in the 80’s would have thought. Did the Russians just attack us?

Except, the explosion didn't seem large enough to be nuclear, or at least what Laura and Bill’s understanding of what nuclear would entail. Infact, as they looked out the kitchen window, they could see a small line of smoke rising from the middle of their field, close enough that any type of bomb of any sort would have blown their entire property into ash and dust.

Bill and Laura straightened up, and slowly exited the barn house, their human curiosity engulfing them. Bill walked with Laura shielded behind him as they slowly approached the strange object.

As they got closer, they noticed the field around them was burnt to a crisp. As they stepped foot into the burnt circle, their feet dipped down into a small crater the impact had caused.

The dirt and dust from the crash landing clouded around the mysterious object, and slowly settled. As it did, they were finally able to get a clear image of the object.

It was cilindrical, with bright red and blue stained metal. It looked almost like a miniature spaceship, and the red and blue coloring made it seem obvious it's origin.

“Is that… a space craft?” Laura questioned as she sneaked around from behind Bill.

"I don't know… looks like it.” Bill circled the object, trying to find any other clues as to the craft's origin.

“I didn't think they'd be that quick to get back in space after that awful disaster…” Laura’s face dropped as she remembered the Challenger tragedy that was shown across the nation just two years prior.

“I don't know, this could be from the Russians.”

“But it's all red and blue, tell me that isn't as American as it gets.” Laura motioned at the space craft with exaggerated hand gestures before firmly placing both hands on her hips.

The couple stood and pondered for a moment more, until their space race conspiracy theory was quickly halted by the faint sound of a baby’s cries.

Although the couple didn't have any children yet, and weren’t even trying at that point, the engrained motherly instinct that laid dormant in Laura sprung into action. She lunged forward and started fiddling with the latch on the front of the spacecraft, wincing slightly at the hot metal before prying open the door.

Inside was a small infant, wrapped in red and blue blankets, with a note written in symbols and characters neither of them recognized.

“Oh my goodness- Bill-” Laura grabbed the small child, cradling him in her arms gently. Bill lifted up the note and examined it.

“This doesn't look like Russian…” Bill looked down at the infant in his wife’s arms. “And neither does that baby.”

“Then it's a ship from some other country trying to join the space race. But why would anyone ever put a baby…” Laura choked on her words, filled with concern and empathy for the strange child. She pulled him close to her chest, comforting both the child and herself. “It is far to hot for this poor baby to be out in the sun, I'm taking him inside.”

Bill looked at her confused, gesturing from the ship, to the note, to the sky and then to the infant. “What, so are we just gonna keep it?!” Laura turned around to look back at her husband, her eyes tightened into a deathly glare.

"Yes. Yes we are.”

Chapter Text

6:07pm, Saturday, March 1, 2008.

Tyler sighed as he entered the school’s gym, aggressively shaking off the several inches of snow that piled on his snow boots and dusting off his jacket. His boots clanked against the waxed wooden floor as he trucked over to the locker room to shed the several layers of winter protection adorned around him.

His hands were red and stiff from the cold as he pulled off his gloves, fiddling with the lock on his locker.

Columbus had just had the biggest blizzard in Ohio history just days prior, and yet he was still expected to wake up early for church in the morning, run practice games all day, and then show up for a game against Oak Hill in the evening. A game he didn't even want to play, but knew it was important.

Worthington Christian’s basketball team was on a 10 game winning streak, and would have been undefeated for the whole season if it weren't for their loss against St. Francis. But it wasn't just the winning streak that made this game important, it's because of the hushed rumors about recruiters. Not just that they'll be there, but that they'd be watching the point guard specifically.

Tyler wasn't unused to recruiters, they've been coming to his games since sophomore year, but this game was supposedly the one they’d really be paying attention to, for whatever reason. It wasn't even the last game of the season, but here they are.

Tyler sat on the bench in the locker room, quietly breathing into his cupped hands, trying to warm up. He was still in a sweater and sweats, his last layer of winter protection, procrastinating changing into his cold sleeveless uniform. But as the sound of his team mates echoed in the room as they entered, he stood up and reached for his uniform.

7:27pm

As the game started, Tyler brought out the ball. He looked over the other team, mentally planning how he was going to direct his team in the first few plays, already mapping out exactly what was going to happen based on the subtle cues he saw in the apposing point guard’s expression. He was ready for the game, but his head wasn't in it.

As the whistle blew, his body moved without much thought, his eyes fixed on the ball, each pass, each dribble, each throw, but his mind was replaying snippets of music over and over, on a loop.

Not even music he listened to, but lyrics he had written. Late at night, when his demons cursed his dreams, scribbling words down in his notebook in the dark.

As he watched his team member pass a ball to another, his fingers mimed an invisible piano, and he hummed a melody to himself that was overshadowed by the cheering from the crowd, the squeaky shoes against the wet gym floor, and the bounce of the basketball hitting the ground.

The ball was passed back to him and he swiftly was able to run the ball down the court and shoot another basket, watching the points rank up.

While his teammates smiled at the leader board, proud of their nearly undefeated score, Tyler felt himself roll his eyes. Yeah, they were good. Hell, he was good, but the game wasn't. He had lost the spark that brought him to basketball a while ago.

But was it even a spark to begin with? His family lived and breathed basketball. His younger brother was even on his team. It was like an unescapable force that surrounded him. He loved the game as a passtime, a hobby, but that's all it ever was to him. A hobby. Not a career.

As the final buzzer blared, he caught a glimpse of two men dressed much to nice for a Sunday game, not cheering, just writing down on a clipboard. His heart sank.

Any normal athletic high schooler's heart would be skipping miles, anxious and exhilarated. But his just sinks, heavy in his knowing of what was about to come. He didn't have a doubt in his mind.

How am I supposed to decline a full-ride?

Chapter Text

3:19pm, Wednesday, May 28th, 1997.

It had been 9 years since the spaceship crashed. Young Joshua Dun was running around in the yard of the Dun ranch with his 7 year old sister Ashley. Laura sat on the porch as she watched her two oldest run wild.

She and Bill had never told a soul that Joshua wasn't their own, not even Joshua himself. But there were signs. Signs that, as new parents, they thought were normal, and after 2 years when they had their second kid, they had completely forgot about.

They thought it was natural for a baby to bend the metal bars of the crib they bought on a yard sale shortly after they found Joshua. Maybe that crib was just old. So naturally, they used a sturdy wooden one when Ashley was born.

They didn't think much about how Joshua never got scrapes or cuts when playing as a toddler. Maybe they just got lucky and this strange child, who they thought must have been from some United States rival country, just had thick skin.

He never got sick, he grew up healthy and strong, they just thought they were doing everything right. Until, of course-

THUD.

Laura ran towards the tree that Ashley and Joshua were playing on. Ashley must have been 15 feet in the air, and Joshua was laying flat on the ground, dirt and grass in his hair.

"Joshua- oh my goodness-" Laura pulled her oldest up and started examining the potential injuries. "Ashley Bonnie Dun you get down from there this instant!"

"Yes ma'am-" Ashley steadily gripped the tree branch as she slowly made her way towards the tree trunk.

As Laura examined her son's head, she was bewildered to find nothing more than some grass burn and a couple scratches.

"Joshua- honey- is your head okay?" She cupped her son's face in her hands as he beamed back at her.

"Yeah! That was so fun!" He grinned a toothy smile. Laura for the first time realized that his smile was perfect, that he didn't have any missing teeth unlike his younger sister. In fact, she doesn't even remember ever teaching him about the tooth fairy like she had to with Ashley. Has he always had all of his teeth?

The sound of wood cracking and a shrill scream came from above them, and in a flash the branch broke off of the tree, and Ashley came falling down. Laura looked up with wide, frightened eyes, but froze in place, not knowing what to do.

As Ashley made her tumble downward, Joshua moved his mother out of the way and caught her, almost as if he just caught a soccer ball that fell from the tree. No effort and no injuries.

A moment of silence ensued. Bewilderment, amaze, gratefulness, frustration.

"Ashley Bonnie you go to your room right now. You know better than to be climbing that high up!"

"But mom- Josh was climbing up there too!" Ashley pointed at Joshua accusingly, stomping her foot.

"I don't wanna hear any attitude. Room. Now." As Ashley groaned and ran back to the barn house, Laura directed her focus back to the strange child that found his way onto her property. This wasn't a child from another country. This wasn't even a child from earth. "Bill! Come here right now!"

Joshua looked down at his hands, in his own state of confusion. He suddenly felt the need to test the limits of this new found strength. As his father ran over to where the two of them stood, Joshua reeled his arm back and lunged forward, towards the trunk of the tree, punching it at its base with a force Laura and Bill have never seen from anyone. The trunk started to crack, and the leaves ruffled in the air as it started to tilt.

Bill rushed over, grabbing his wife with one arm and son with the other, pulling them away from the timbering tree. It crashed down to the ground with a loud crash. Laura let out a shakey sigh.

"Bill... I think our son..." She couldn't finish her sentence, overwhelmed with a sudden feeling of divine intervention. She dropped to her knees, holding Joshua's hands in front of her.

"...You're a gift from God baby."

Chapter Text

7:00am, Wednesday, June 18th, 2008.

Underneath the nest of blankets Tyler stirred awake, groaning at the blaring alarm clock next to him. He's been graduated for about a month now, and he doesn't know why he hasn't disabled his alarm clock yet.

He turns off his alarm clock and rolls over in bed, rolling on top of a notebook and some pens. He was up late the previous night writing more songs. He had to have been up until at least 4am, which if his alarm went off at 7, then no wonder he felt his eyes droop like 50 pound weights.

He gripped the blankets and covered himself up again, sinking into his bed as he attempted to get a couple more hours of sleep.

9:48am

Tyler slowly wakes up again after hearing the distant chatter among his siblings and parents. His stomach growls as he smells and hears bacon and eggs sizzling in the kitchen. As much as his mind wants him to decompose in his comfortable bed, he knows he needs to eat, and likely face his family.

He slips out of bed, a blanket still slung over his shoulder. The soft fabric slowly falls down from his shoulder and drags against his arm before falling down to the ground, bits of the fibers clinging to small scabs on his lower arm, making him wince and pull his arm away.

Tyler gently runs his hand over the scars that adorn his arm before grabbing a hoodie to cover them all. He couldn't tell what season was worse, summertime when his extra long sleeves and hoodies made him sweat golf balls, or basketball season where his battles were on full display for everyone in the school to see.

As Tyler adjusted his hoodie, he decided it was summer that was worse, remembering the "cooling arm sleeves" he often wore on the court, which actually seemed like a pretty good summer alternative.

Tyler ditched his hoodie and rummaged in his closet for his basketball gear, putting on the two sleeves before leaving his room of solitude, dragging his feet towards the bathroom.

His toothbrush barely touched his front teeth when he heard his brother yell his name from downstairs.

"TY YOU GOT MAIL!" Zach yelled up the stairs. Tyler froze and his heart sank. His mouth already half full of frothed toothpaste and spit, he spit it out and threw the toothpaste into the sink, bolting down the stairs.

As he jumped down the last few steps of the stairs, he saw Zach waving the letter in front of his face. He couldn't see much with the blur of the envelope but he recognized the logo. A red circle with a black building in the middle of it. Otterbein College. And he never applied there, which means there wasn't any chance it was a rejection letter. It was an offer.

Tyler reached for the letter, trying to pry it from his younger brother's arms, but Zach just fucked and dodged. Tyler tackled him, much to the dismay of his mother, who left the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about.

As Tyler and Zach fought over the letter, one of Tyler's sleeves started to bunch up. Tyler let go of Zach to hurriedly fix his cover, desperate to not let his family know what he had been doing at night. Alas, in the brief moment it took for him to gather his composure again, Zach was already ripping open the letter.

"Dear Mr. Joseph, After evaluating numerous athletes from around the region, your exceptional athletic ability, leadership and commitment to your academics were highlighted to our coaching staff-" Zach read out loud from the letter. Soon the whole family started to gather, their faces bright with excitement. "-therefore, I am pleased to offer you a full-ride athletic scholarship to Otterbein College!"

Tyler sighed, his body sinking into where he sat on the living room floor. He wanted to be able to hide the inevitable letter. Throw it away, rip it up, burn it. He didn't know how he was going to tell his parents he was going to pursue music instead, but he figured if a full-ride scholarship wasn't an option, then it would be easier. But Zach beat him to it. He had no choice now. He strained a smile.

"I can't believe it!" His eyes felt dry and hurt. His stomach growled again, but he lost his appetite. He felt arms of all his family members surround him, excited ramblings indistinguishable from each other. He knew he couldn't disappoint them. He couldn't say no. There was no other possible way.

"I guess I'm going to college!"

Chapter Text

5:47pm, Wednesday, October 13, 2004.

Josh was walking home after band practice, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and trumpet case in his opposite hand. As he got to his street, he quickly ripped his earbuds out of his ears, wrapped them around his MP3 player, and shoved the device into his sock. He smiled as if nothing was wrong as he walked to his house.

Josh opened the door and his smile immediately dropped. There, in front of the front door, was his mother, holding up his blink-182 album.

"Joshua. Mind explaining this?" His mother stood up and walked towards him, disapprovingly.

"Well that's- it's an album." Josh gulped, gripping his backpack strap.

"I can see that, but it isn't one you're allowed to be listening to, Joshua." She slammed the CD on the coffee table, making Josh wince. "I thought you liked Relient K? That's a much more appropriate band for you to be listening to."

Josh shrugged shyly. He didn't mind listening to Relient K, when he was at home at least, but it definitely wasn't his favorite band. He couldn't even be held down to one band, he liked mixing and matching the most he could. And sometimes that means non Christian bands.

"I thought band practice got out at 5, why are you so late?"

"I was just... hanging out with my friends, playing our own kinda songs." Josh felt himself sinking into his frame.

"Do you really think that all this- music nonsense- is what you're destined for? You're the next coming!" His mother continued to scold him, bringing up his abilities yet again. Josh adverted his gaze, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not the next Jesus mom!" Josh finally shucked his backpack onto the ground and set down his trumpet, feeling aspirated. His mother just scoffed.

"Oh yeah? What about your strength? Your resilience?" She tilted her head to look him in the eye as she made her points.

"I don't know, I was athletically gifted I guess."

"And your speed? I've seen how fast your arms move on that drum set of yours. That's not normal human speed."

"Practice! Training! That's all it is!" Josh pushed past his mother, trying to escape to his room.

Ever since his powers first showed up when he was 9, he underwent countless amateur training sessions with his mother and father. His father tested the lengths of his physical abilities, setting him to do more chores on the ranch. It was undeniable that he was more powerful than the rest of his siblings.

Every day, after school, hours of training until suppertime. Some days it was out on the ranch, and other days he was studying extra materials, on top of his school homework with his mother. She didn't believe he was on par with his classmates, and he tested his intellect with complex math problems, hypothetical historical scenarios and the like.

If he were infact a normal human child, he would be so exhausted that he'd sleep through his actual schooling. But whatever he was, whatever abilities he had, meant that even if he only got an hour of sleep, he was fully energized for the day ahead of him.

He never denied his unique abilities before. They're too blatantly obvious for any denial to make any sense, but for some reason, he had enough of it now. When he entered high school he begged and begged for some more freedom. The allowance to play music, to join after school curriculum. It was a miracle he was coming home from band practice instead of lugging 5 hay bails on his shoulders for hours in the nippy October cold. Maybe he was rebelling, maybe he was tired, maybe he knew something his parents didn't. Regardless, he denied it all.

"You look at me in the eyes Yeshua." His mother scolded, as what she really viewed her son to be slipped out. He was not a child to her, he was not a person. He was a responsibility, a so called gift that needed shaping. He was a tool she needed to polish and fix, not a boy she needed to hold and care for. It was her responsibility to shape him to be the miracle that would save the world. But there was one thing she and mother Mary would never have in common. And that was morality.

"MY. NAME. IS. JOSHUA. I am not Jesus! I am not a gift from God, I am not a Messiah, I am not a prophet, I'm. Just. Josh!" As his outburst shook the house, his eyes turned red. A stream of burning red exited his eyes and burnt a hole into the wood flooring. Both Josh and his mother froze.

After a moment of silence, his mother finally spoke up. "Room. Now."

Josh turned on his heel and ran up the stairs to his room, slamming the door shut, causing waves of vibration echo out from the door frame. He plugged his electric drum set in, put on his headphones and started drumming his worries out. His hands were a blur as he reached over his body to hit each plastic drumhead. It sounded as if he was hitting each drumhead at the exact same time with the sheer speed he exerted.

He knew he was going to have his drum set taken away for his hidden CDs, for the new hole in the floor, for yelling at his mother. He knew that was only the beginning of the privileges he was going to have removed, of the freedoms he was going to lose, but for now, he was going to play the music he wanted to play.

Chapter Text

4:23am, Sunday, June 22, 2008

It never got fully dark in Columbus. Even at the darkest time of the night, the window still would glow a mid tone of blue. Tyler's sheer curtains barely dampened the light polluted shine.

He was laying motionless in bed, staring out the window, in the exact same position he laid down in as early as 7 o'clock the night before. His eyes stayed open, despite the heaviness weighing on them. Not from exhaustion, at least not physical exhaustion. He stared out the window, watching a tree across the street gently sway.

A click and a woosh sounded from the vent as the AC automatically turned on. The subtle sound broke the silence of the night and made Tyler flinch.

He finally sat up in bed, turning to his alarm clock. 4:26am. He had to be up and getting ready for church in 2.5 hours. Why couldn't he just get any amount of sleep? But at the same time, it felt like all he did was sleep. He doesn't remember the last time he showered, but he knows he'll have to in the morning. If not any other day of the week, then he'll at least look presentable at church.

Tyler looked out the window again, looking up to the sky, stuck in his own thoughts for just a second before he grabbed his notebook and flipped to a new page.

He sat up against his headrest and pulled his knees up to his chest. Biting his left thumbnail as he balanced the notebook against his thighs and wrote down yet another song that will sit in his notebook un-sung.

He wrote just a verse and a chorus before dropping his notebook and pencil down and taking both of his hands, pressing his palms into the sides of his head. The silence in the room felt unsettling when compared to the overlapping racing thoughts in his head.

He raced out of bed, discarding the blankets to the side, quickly and quietly opening his bedroom door, and the bathroom door. He locked it behind him and sighed before flicking on the light switch.

He clenched his eyes shut as the light blinded him. He faced the mirror and as he slowly opened his eyes, blotches of light spots covered what would be his face in the mirror, slowly fading to reveal the dysfunction sight in front of him. His hair stuck in different directions, grease sticking to it. The bags under his eyes so full it looked like he was wearing eyeshadow. Even though he thought he had been eating well, his face looked sunken. Or maybe that was just from being depressed. Can depression make you look physically ill? Jagged red lines covered his arms. Even though he was more than used to seeing them when he looked down, something about seeing them connected to his body, to his face, from the perspective of the mirror, made them so much more painful of a memory. He felt ashamed.

He watched as his own face contorted as a bubble in his throat rose up and he choked on a sob. He cringed as he watched himself break, but couldn't look away. His thoughts grew louder. First, they were about music. About basketball. Family. Expectations. College. Expenses. Scholarships. Future. Career. But now they turned their heel and dug inward. Pathetic. Disgusting. A waste of potential. Insignificant. Without purpose.

Tyler stumbled back, as if the reflection in front of him was the one uttering the words back to him. His back hit the wall behind him. He couldn't back away any further. His eyes darted to the mess of toiletries scattered over the countertop from him and his siblings. The cologne Zach insisted on wearing, insisting it made him smell like a real man. The lip gloss Madison proudly pretended was real lipstick since there was no way their mom would allow her to cake her face in makeup in the 6th grade. The spiderman toothbrush that is the only toothbrush Jay could be convinced to use. And the razor and shaving cream that Tyler certainly doesn't need, given his lack of facial hair growth, but has anyway.

He stopped crying a few minutes ago, but he hasn't noticed. His face turned stone cold, with no evidence of his tears aside from dry, red eyes and wet stained cheeks. He picks up a razor and pops out the blade, carefully analyzing it. Tilting it slightly, watching the bathroom light reflect on it.

7:00am

Tyler finds himself opening his eyes the next morning, not remembering getting back in bed. He instinctively sits up and looks at his arms and notices gauze wrapped around part of his arm. He sighs, disappointed with himself. He slams his fist on the snooze button of his alarm and flops himself back down on his back.

Curiosity gets the best of him and he slowly unravels the gauze, cringing as he does so. But to his surprise, there's no new wounds. Just the same halfway healed ones from days prior. Confused, he wraps the gauze around his arm again.

He turns his head to his nightstand, watching the minutes on his clock tick by, anticipating the snoozed alarm to go off soon. He looks down to the ground beside his bed and sees his notebook, still open on the page that he was writing in last night. He figures that he's not going to fall back asleep, and that he needs to be up anyways, and picks it up.

He scribbles away another verse, and tweaked the chorus a bit before the blaring sound of his alarm going off again nearly makes him jump out of his skin. He turns his alarm off and writes one word at the top of the page, before circling it several times and walking to his closet to grab his nice church clothes.

Chapter Text

12:47pm, Saturday, May 3, 2008

Josh's entire room was covered in cardboard boxes, packing peanuts and clear tape. As claustrophobic as his childhood home had started to feel over the years, he couldn't help but feel bittersweet.

He was moving out. A friend of his from highschool got an apartment in Columbus, and he needed a roommate. He and Josh weren't even that close, just friends of some friends, but Josh saw his escape and jumped for it.

He told his parents he was going to Columbus State University on some bogus scholarship he made up, and they bought it. He knew they wouldn't have let him move out if he didn't fib just a little. And with all the rules growing up, he learned just how to fib right.

Between sneaking forbidden music and the way his parents directly coached him on how to lie about his powers and his "purpose", he had it down.

He bit the lid of the sharpie, popping it off of the marker as he scribbled a label on the box. Books. He opened the box slightly and looked inside to see his CD player and packs of CDs and band shirts. He smiled before taping the box shut, before remembering all the CDs he had confiscated over the years. I mean, he was an adult now. Those are his. His parents can't seriously expect that he'll only listen to Christian rock bands now that he's moving out, right?

And so, the rescue mission begins.

Josh peers out of his bedroom, looking out towards the open front door. His mom was carrying out one of the boxes to his dad's truck, while his siblings stood in the bed of the truck, playing a game of Tetris with his belongings, trying to make it all fit. He quietly snuck into his parents bedroom and began searching.

He bee-lined for the closet. He found a couple boxes hidden under shoes and clothes.

Baby Supplies.

Christmas Decorations.

Ashley's Things.

Abigail's Things.

Jordan's Things.

His eyebrows furrowed. How was it that he could only find the confiscated items of all his siblings, but not any of his own? He looked up at the top shelf of the closet, then grabbed a chair to get a closer look.

Anniversary Gifts.

Easter Decorations.

Joshua's Things.

Josh smiled, pulling the box of his confiscated goods from the top shelf, but as he removed the box, he found another one, hiding behind it. It was dusty, like it hadn't been touched in years. What drew his attention to it wasn't it's apparent age though, it was it's label.

June 18, 1988.

His... birthday. He looked up and down the closet, but didn't see anything with his siblings birthdays on it. Why did he get a whole extra box?

He stood on the tips of his toes, balancing on the chair, to reach back and pull the box towards him. He nearly forgot he was doing something that would likely get him in a lot of trouble. He didn't care about getting caught anymore. He was too overwhelmed with curiosity.

As he opened the box, he expected baby pictures, pictures of his mom and him in the hospital bed after she gave birth. He expected a baby album, maybe some baby toys, or a handmade blanket. Who knows, maybe he had a box cause he was the first born and they didn't realize they'd have more kids. Maybe there was some special keepsakes in there just for him, but instead was something else, something that... didn't seem right.

The first thing he saw, was indeed a blanket. A red, yellow and blue one. He smiled softly, running his thumb over the soft fabric, but as soon as he pulled the blanket out, none of it made any sense.

A hunk of red metal, a journal, some loose pieces of paper with strange symbols on it, and... a device of some sort. But, the label said 1988, and this didn't seem like 80's technology. It didn't even seem to be 00's technology. It was slim, like an MP3 player, but lacked any buttons. he couldn't see any sort of screen on it, and he figured it had to be a router of some kind. But there wasn't any plug connected to it. The most he could make out aside from the simplicity of the design was an oval shaped indent on the side of it, and a small square in the center, that looked like the flashlight on his Blackberry.

As he ran his fingers over the device, his thumb grazed over the oval shaped indent, and it was like the small black square had hidden veins inside it, glowing red and blue, outward from where his thumb had touched. He flinched and pulls his hand away, seeing a glowing thumbprint on the indent. It starts to hum, and he can feel vibrations radiate from it.

The square in the center blinks, and shines upward in a beam of light, expanding in the air directly above the device. It looked exactly like those holograms in sci-fi movies. It was a hologram.

The image of a man, and a woman appeared in front of him. Both in strange, sci-fi clothes. Their faces looked sad, worried. The woman opened her mouth, and gibberish seemed to come out. One word, or perhaps it was two words, stuck out to him though.

"Belad-El."

He had no way of knowing who this man and woman were, or what language they were speaking, where they were from, what this device even was or why it was in his parent's possession, but watching the two of them speak softly to him made his eyes tear up. He was sitting on the ground, right next to the chair, the discarded box of his confiscated CDs, and the opened box of strange artifacts from the day of his birth. Or whatever day June 18th was supposed to mean.

The video- or, hologram- kept playing as Josh looked up at the doorway, with tear filled eyes as he spotted his mother, looking like she had seen a ghost, stare back at him.

"Mom... what is this?" His voice shook as violently as his hands did. The hologram made a zip sound as it shut off, directing Josh's attention back to the device immediately fumbling with it to turn it back on again. It did, and he sighed, relieved. The same recording showed on loop.

Laura lunged forward, trying to pry the device from the teenager's hands.

"How did you even find that- you aren't supposed to see that!" His mother's determination was no match for Josh's strength, he yanked the device back and held onto it.

"What is this?! Who are these people?!" His voice grew louder. Laura froze. She looked at the hologram, her eyes shocked.

"I... I've never seen that recording... I didn't know how to work that- that whatever it was. It was just... tucked away, i-in the ship." Josh got to his feet and looked down at the woman who had raised him.

"Ship? What ship?!" Laura's mouth fell agape, but she couldn't speak. "Tell me!!"

At this point, the commotion had been brought to his father's attention. He stood in the doorway, looking down at the opened box, puffing out his chest in a big sigh.

"The ship we found you in."

Josh's head felt like it was spinning. Like his vision was blurring, but if anything, his vision was as clear as ever. He squinted his eyes and saw his siblings in the living room. Behind his dad. He shook his head and his vision went back to normal, but he still couldn't make any sense of what was being said to him.

"Wh- what ship?? What, you went on a cruise and found a stowaway baby and decided to take it home?? You're not-"

"A space ship." Laura interrupted, looking down at the red yellow and blue blanket that laid on the ground, too ashamed to meet Josh's eyes.

"What?"

"A space ship. We... we found you in a space ship. Out in the field. Around where the garden is now." Laura explained, although Josh wasn't nearly as curious as to where in the field he was found and rather what the fuck they were even talking about.

"It was the end of the Cold war, we were all paranoid about the Soviets attacking, we thought... we thought you were some failed space experiment from another country, or- something." Bill spoke, but his words were barely audible over Josh's thoughts.

"U-until we saw how special you are!" Laura immediately brightened up, standing to her feet and reaching her shaking hands out to her "son".

"That was when we realized what you really were, the things you were able to do, the things you WILL do!" Josh's muscles tightened as he remembered the hours of religious lectures. Studying what the rapture would entail, studying what Jesus did 2 thousand years ago. His "past", his powers, his purpose.

Josh pushed his mother's hands away. He didn't even know the full story, but any more nonsense coming out of his mother's mouth would be too much. He couldn't take it. He grabbed the device, the journal, the metal, the blanket, everything and shoved it back in the box. He took the box and the box of all his music memorabilia and walked straight to the truck to put it in with the rest of his belongings. Then he walked back into his room to grab more boxes.

"Joshua..." His mother stood in the doorway. He froze, mid packing. He didn't dare turn to look at her.

"Get away from me." He almost growled.

"Please..." He turned on his heel and scowled at his mother, his eyes glowing red. But, he bit his tongue, and closed his eyes. As angry as he was, she didn't deserve to get hurt. His emotions were getting the best of him, and he knew it.

"Just. Go away..." Josh spoke softly. He sighed as he picked up another box, walking out to his car as he continued to speak. "I'll drive my car, and Ashley will drive the truck. It's just an hour drive, and if you remember, as of 2 days ago, she's 18 now. So she'll be more than allowed to spend the night at my place for the night. Then she can drive back tomorrow, and you and dad can stay here and make tinfoil hats while translating all of President Bush's blinking into Morse code or whatever."

Before Laura could even respond, Josh walked back to the house and opened Ashley's bedroom door, beckoning her outside.

As Ashley and Josh finished loading the vehicles, Josh smiled a bold smile, clenching his teeth as he does so. He said his final goodbyes to his siblings, his father, and his mother. And before long, the driver's seat door slammed shut, and dirt road turned into asphalt. Birds chirping turned into cars honking. Rural ranch turned into Columbus City.

And Josh Dun turned into someone else, too. Maybe not someone with any kind of special name yet, but someone new regardless.

Chapter Text

12:23pm, Friday, August 29, 2008.

Tyler's knee bounced in the carpeted chair in the empty office. Trophies and awards lined the walls. He rested his head against his fist and pulled out his MP3 player, seeing the picture he took of his Crown Victoria. He pressed the clicky buttons down, scrolling through the files.

Tyler Joseph - No Phun Intended

01 - Taken_by_Sleep.mp3

02 - Drown.mp3

03 - Tonight.mp3

04 - Save.mp3

05 - Hole_in_the_Ground.mp3

06 - Blasphemy.mp3

He sighs and clicks on one of the tracks, listening to it in his headphones, deep in thought.

It's been a week since he started college. His entire summer was a mix of sleeping in far too much, staying up way too late, and recording songs when everyone was out of the house down in the basement.

His family knew he was recording, he just never wanted them to overhear. Especially when he has a strong, big brother reputation going on. He wouldn't be able to handle seeing his parents or siblings listen to the lyrics deeply, and realize how much their star player was hurting.

He doesn't even know why he recorded his EP. Did he think it was actually gonna go somewhere?

He thinks back to Junior year of high school. Him and his friend Nick were playing a 1v1 game after church. They talked, and suddenly the high noon sun became a golden and red sunset. They talked endlessly about music. Tyler played the piano at church that morning and it sparked an hours long talk about Tyler's keyboard, and Nick's bass, and how maybe they could create something together. They joked about starting a band, even trying to think up some random band names.

But none of the names stuck, none of them felt purposeful enough for Tyler. If he were to start a band, he didn't want the name to be just some words that looked cool by each other. He wanted them to be representative of something, have meaning, be a reminder of some kind.

But he could never find that title, and so the joke died out, Tyler set down his silent dreams and picked up the basketball, and they kept playing until dark.

The office door opened, snapping Tyler out of his thoughts. He yanked his earbuds out of his ears and redirected his attention to the academics counselor. 

"Alright Joseph, tell me. How're you liking Otterbein so far?"

Tyler smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck.

"It's pretty cool, I mean it's only the first week and basketball season isn't until November so, just kinda feels like high school with lecture halls instead of class rooms."

The counselor laughed a hearty laugh, making Tyler squint his eyes in confusion. He laughed as if Tyler had said some sort of hilariously funny joke.

"That's actually what I needed to talk to you about today! Basketball season. Might be a couple months away but it's coming quicker than you realize!"

The counselor had this, energized about everything attitude. Like if he didn't seem utterly enthralled by every mundane thing about a routine athletic counseling appointment he'd loose his mind.

"Yeah, okay, is there anyway I can talk to you about some of my clas-" Tyler tried to sneak in his request in between the counselor's quick words but was horribly interrupted.

"So first off, I see your high school records here, nearly undefeated! Only lost 2 games your entire senior year, that's an accomplishment! And you ranked highest in the state for senior athletes."

Tyler cringed at both statements. One of the games they lost was their final game, and it still stung, despite their overall season win. Then he cringed at his ranking. He didn't even think he tried that hard, which only makes him more of an asshole than he already is. He couldn't help it, his dad was a coach, his whole family played the game, it's like his future was written out for him from the get go.

"Yeah.. I guess that's why I got the full-ride.. but listen, I really wanted to see if I could take-"

"You're probably thinking college basketball is gonna be just like highschool, but you'd be wrong. You're playing against some of the best in the state. I mean, we're no Ohio State, but you still got some really strong teammates and competitors here." Tyler sunk into his seat at another failed attempt to get his counselor's attention.

"Yeah- I know- it's the big leagues before the big leagues- but can we please just talk about-"

"And not to mention the paycheck." Tyler went silent. His eyes went wide, and he lost all train of thought.

"Wh- wait, what do you mean paycheck?"

"Your paycheck. College athletes get paid for their games. And if you win enough games, get enough local attention, you can also do NIL deals, promote local businesses, all kinds of different stuff you can do."

"I thought my scholarship was full-ride though."

"Oh it is. College basketball may not be professional, but it's high enough in the game to earn you a paycheck. Now, it's nothing like what anyone playing in the NBA would make, but it is a pretty penny."

"How pretty of a penny are we talking here...?"

The counselor opened a drawer and flipped through some records. It felt like it took an hour for him to find what he needed to see.

"Let's see, for a freshman point guard that ranked about as high as you did would make... easily over $1M dollars for your first year."

Everything froze. Was this counselor really talking so casually about one million dollars?!

"I can't give you an exact amount, but on average we make about $20M for the team a year, which gets dispersed throughout costs for equipment, uniforms, and all the players. And depending on what NIL deals you partake in, that's its own complete seperate paycheck that can get you maybe $4M? Point is, you're gonna be well taken care of here so long as you play that ball."

Tyler couldn't believe it. He was so focused on the game, and quite frankly his hate for it, that he forgot he quite literally is starting his career. But he can't help but have mixed feelings. On the one hand, that paycheck is incredible and insane. On the other hand, he looks down at his MP3 player, down at his songs that he poured his soul into.

He put his MP3 player back in his pocket and smiled at the counselor, with his office adorned in athletic achievements.

Chapter Text

7:28pm, Wednesday, June 18, 2008.

It was Josh's birthday, he was turning 20. The Guitar Center just closed, and he was closing with his new coworker, Chris.

"Hey, Josh, I got ya something!" Josh was re-tuning one of the guitars that had been practiced on today when Chris walked over to him with a Guitar Center shopping bag. Josh rolled his eyes and hung up the guitar.

"Just had to make use of that employee discount for me, huh?" Josh took the bag, but didn't open it.

"Oh c'mon man, open it! Closing's basically done already. Just gotta wait for till to get counted." Josh looked over Chris' shoulder to their manager unlocking a cash drawer, starting the count. Josh rolled his eyes.

"Fine." He smiled as he opened the bag, still seeing the receipt on the bag. Chris must have bought it on his break.

Inside were two things, some new headphones and Zildjian drumsticks.

"From one drummer to another, these are the best sticks you can get. They're weighted perfectly. And the headphones are for your new electric kit! You really need to throw out that foam headset. That shit's ancient." Josh playfully shoved Chris's shoulder.

"Thanks man, this is sick. You really didn't have to though." Chris shrugged.

"Sucks enough you had to work on your birthday, just accept the gift."

"Oh I accept it alright. I frickin love Zildjian."

Chris and Josh's conversation was rudely interrupted with the sound of keys jingling.

"You boys done slacking off and ready for me to close up?"

8:07pm

Josh unlocked the door to his apartment, noticing the lights were all off. He figured his roommate must've not gotten home yet, or maybe hit the hay early. He flicked on the light and saw a couple balloons decorating the floor and two people pop up from behind the couch. His roommate, and Ashley. Josh laughed out loud.

"A surprise party? Really?" He set down his keys and bags and walked over to hug his younger sister.

"I didn't realize I needed to buy helium so the balloons are a little... lack luster. And you don't have like any friends so it's just me and Adam."

Adam shrugs and turns around to retrieve a single cupcake with a '2' candle.

"...They were all sold out of '0' candles." Josh laughed and blew out the candle. 

Ashley suddenly rushed over to the dining room and brought over a big bag.

"I made everyone from home pack something for me to bring you!" Josh's smile softened. He took the bag and hugged Ashley again.

"Awe, thanks Ash."

"Open it! C'mon I wanna see what everyone got you, and how you'd like my gift!"

Josh sighed and opened the bag. Inside there were several wrapped gifts. He first pulled out one that was addressed from Jordan. He opened it up and found brand new boxing wrap. He smiled, fondly remembering the fake boxing matches him and his brother would spare. And how he had to always hold back to make sure his super strength never hurt Jordan too bad.

The next gift was addressed from Abigail, his youngest siblings. He opened it and pulled out a handmade necklace, with mushroom, bone, pearl and crystal beads. He chuckled and immediately unclipped it and put it on. It was a little small, but it fit like a choker.

Third gift, Josh didn't even look at the tag and Ashley squealed, not able to contain her excitement. Josh unwrapped the neatly tapes box and pulled out a CD case, decorated with sharpie, glitter glue and stickers, with "Josh's best hits" written in cursive on the cover.

"What's this?" Josh asked, opening the case and looking over the homemade CD.

"I made it. It has a bunch of recordings of you on your drums, and I burned some of your favorite songs on their too. Mostly because I didn't have enough recordings of you on your drums to fill out the minutes... don't tell Mom though. It has some forbidden songs on there." Ashley explained, anxiously biting her thumbnail. Josh put the CD down and pulled her into a tight hug.

"I love it. Thank you." Ashley smiled as she hugged her big brother back. 

"You got one more thing in there, from mom and dad!" Ashley pulled out an envelope and handed it to Josh. It was addressed from mom and dad, but it was clearly in mom's handwriting. Josh's face dropped. Ashley looked at him confused.

"What's wrong? I know you and mom butt heads a lot, and she's strict as shit, but-"

"I'll tell you later." Josh sighed and opened the envelope, seeing a long letter from his mom. He skimmed over it, it had the same shit from his childhood. Stuff about him needing to be strong, to be a protector, to harness his 'godly' powers. He only skimmed over it, but he figured he had enough and crumpled it up into a ball and threw it across the room into the trashcan.

There was an awkward silence between the three in the room.

"Well, I guess it's my turn now!" Adam broke through the silence and frisbee tossed Josh an envelope of his own. Inside was a cheesy birthday card and a taco bell gift card. Josh chuckled.

"Thanks." Adam raised his hands in defense, despite not being attacked for anything.

"Hey, I got student loans, I did the best I could." They all laughed.

10:53pm

Ashley and Josh were sitting on Josh's bed, playing Super Smash Bros on a TV he got for cheap from a yard sale. As Josh celebrated another win, Ashley playfully punched him in the shoulder, causing Josh to fake tumble backwards onto his bed.

Ashley laughed and turned off the game before looking at the time.

"Hey Josh?"

"What's up Ash?" Josh sat up on his elbows, looking at his sister.

"Can I tell you something? If you- promise not to ever tell mom or dad or Jordan or Abby or like- anyone?"

Ashley sat up on the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. Josh sat up, fully directing his attention to her.

"Yeah.. yeah of course." Ashley fiddled around with a her bracelet anxiously, suddenly taking a deep breath and blurting it out.

"I like girls." Josh looked at her, a little stunned.

"Okay." Josh shrugged. "Did you think that would like, change anything between us?" Ashley grimaced.

"I dunno? Kinda?" Josh laughed, causing Ashley to laugh anxiously. "You really don't like.. mind?"

"No, of course not. Ash, I don't care if you like girls. Hell, I'm pretty sure I like girls and guys." Ash's jaw completely dropped and Josh just shrugged.

"Shut up. Wait so is Adam-" Ash turned her head and pointed towards Josh's bedroom door. Josh busted out laughing.

"Definitely not. That man is straighter than a ruler." They both laughed, before Ash suddenly stood up and raced to her backpack. 

"I almost forgot- dad wanted to give you something, but he didn't want mom to see. So he gave it to me separately. Here." Ash handed Josh a shoebox, that looked old and worn down. He slowly opened it to find an old notebook, Polaroid pictures, and an old cam corder. He opened the notebook.

Dear Belad-El,

If you're reading this, then you've grown up. And it's about damn time you start learning the truth. Laura doesn't want you to know, but you deserve the truth. You're adopted. But don't let that mean you're any less of my son. You may be wondering why I addressed this letter to Belad-El, rather than you, Joshua. That's because that's you're real name. The name your birth parents gave you. You see, we didn't adopt you from any orphanage. You showed up one night, on the ranch. But you weren't just plopped on our porch in a basket with a note. You landed here. In some sort of space craft. Now I know, that sounds crazy, but please try and hear me out. We heard a crash in the field, and we found the structure you were inside. Enclosed in this box is some Polaroid pictures of the structure. The outside, the inside, and the surrounding field. We took you in and that's when we gave you the name Joshua. Your mother didn't pay much attention to the objects you were tucked away with, she just rushed you inside to get you cleaned up and fed. But I found all these artifacts written in a language neither of us recognized. Over the years, I became obsessed with cracking the code. There were books, documents and notes that I worked hard to translate, and in this journal there are my best guesses at the translation of each page, each document, everything. Some of it I couldn't translate, and I'm sorry for that. But the things I've learned while translating made me know just how important these documents were for you to read one day. I'm sorry I didn't give these to you sooner. Once you started showing these abilities I kept working, hoping to find an answer, but it seems like even these documents don't explain the abilities you possess. Laura thinks you're some type of second coming, and I love her but I know that's not all you are. You are a Kryptonian. You are Belad-El, birth son of Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van. And most importantly, you are Joshua, my son. May this new adventure you're going on bring you peace, and answers. Whether it be your life here on earth or somewhere else.

Love, Bill

Josh's eyes teared up. He rummaged through the photos, finding pictures of the structure he arrived on earth in, finding baby pictures of himself for the first time. He flipped through the notebook and all the translations. He immediately got up and ran to his closet, pulling out the box of his baby blanket, the scrap metal, and the holographic video box. Ashley looked at Josh confused.

"Wh- What is that?"

Josh put his thumb over the thumbprint sensor and the holographic video came to life. He placed it on his nightstand and grabbed the notebook, feverishly flipping through the pages as the two figures in the video spoke.

"IS THAT A HOLOGRAM?! Joshua what is going on?!" Ashley got off the bed and kneeled by the holographic image, studying it closely. "What language is that?"

As the video came to a stop and powered off, Josh looked at Ashley with teary eyes.

"Ash... I think I'm... an alien."

Chapter Text

12:17pm, Monday, December 22nd, 2008.

Tyler stood at the front door, his nose and ears bright red in the cold winter air. He knocked on the front door, excited to finally be home for the holidays.

As the door pushed open, Tyler was immediately dog piled by his younger siblings, forcing him to fall backwards into the snow. Jay and Madison talked over each other as they hugged their oldest brother.

"Oh goodness- you two get off of him right now" Tyler's mother scolded, pulling the 10 and 14 year old off of him. Just as Tyler got to his feet and was dusting off snow, another couple arms suddenly wrapped around him. This time, Zach and his mom.

"Jeez how do you guys even handle me being away for half the year?!" Tyler sighed and hugged his family back. He did miss them, and he did need this.

Family was always his safe space. Even if they have their own hard challenges to be around. All he knew, was that he was back home with his siblings and could stand to not think about school for a couple days.

As Tyler peeled his winter jacket off, he saw his dad standing in the kitchen, looking at the mail. They were bills, no doubt. Tyler looked away and sighed, untying his boots.

"Hey pops!" Tyler nodded towards his father, who just then snapped out of his thoughts.

"My boy!" His dad quickly put down the paperwork and walked over to give his son a hug, then a quick noogie.

"How's college life treating ya?" Tyler cringed and peeled his dad's knuckles off of his head, rubbing the sore spot with a chuckle.

"Not bad, I think I'm gonna major in English." Tyler shrugged.

"Already? You're just a freshman you don't need to be thinking about declaring yet." Tyler swatted the air, brushing him off.

"Okay enough talk about college, I'm on winter break! No school talk, capiche?" Tyler wagged his finger in front of his dad's face in mock annoyance, making his dad raise defensive hands.

"Alright, alright, capiche."

6:34pm

The rest of the day was mostly spent outdoors. Snowball fights, snow angels, a failed attempt at making an igloo, and ended with hot chocolate in the living room. Everyone in Christmas themed pajamas, laughing and spending time together. Tomorrow was gonna be a day out into town for last minute Christmas preparation, and with Christmas Eve dinner, Santa planting after Jay goes to sleep, and Christmas morning already going to be a lot of work, it was nice to have one relaxing day before the holiday chaos fully set in.

Tyler was looking over the handmade ornaments all over the tree as Home Alone 2 played on the TV.

"Oh look, that's the first ornament we got after Maddie was born." Tyler pointed out a little penguin family with each of the family's names written on it, all except Jay's.

"This one's just the two of us." Zach stood up and pulled out a framed ornament with 6 year old Tyler and 4 year old Zach sitting on Santa's lap.

Tyler smiles brightly, glad to get lost in nostalgia for a moment.

12:46am, Tuesday, December 23, 2008.

They kept pointing out ornaments and memories until it was time for bed. Tyler's mom tucked Jay in at 8, then Maddie went to bed at 9, then Zach at 11. Tyler stayed out in the living room with his parents, not wanting to sacrifice himself to the nightly fight just yet.

His dad was back at the dining room table, looking over bills. Christmas time was already a stressful time, budgeting out Christmas gifts and the like. But after the financial crisis that erupted just a couple months ago didn't help. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer was playing quietly on the living room TV as Tyler fiddled with his shirt sleeve. His mom was tucked away in their bedroom, probably organizing or hiding gifts. Tyler took a deep breath and stood up, walking to the dining room table.

His dad instinctively hid the paperwork as his son approached.

"Hey kiddo, it's pretty late, don't you wanna get some rest for tomorrow? You might have to be one of the drivers if your siblings wanna go somewhere else."

"I'm not really tired yet." Tyler said simply as he craned his head to try and look at the paperwork, but his dad just yanked it all away.

"You don't need to see all this, we're doing fine trust me." His voice sounded strained, like he was holding his breath about it all. Tyler pulled out an envelope from his back pocket, looked at it for a moment then placed it right on top of the bills.

"Merry Christmas, dad." Tyler smiled and walked towards the stairs, heading up to his old room before his dad could even open the envelope.

His father opened the envelope, seeing nothing but a single check. He furrowed his eyebrows and pulled it out.

Five Hundred Thousand and 00/100 dollars made out to Christopher Joseph.

9:47am

As soon as Tyler woke up, the smell of pancakes and bacon welcomed his nose to being awake.

He walked downstairs, and watched as his dad locked eyes with him, immediately getting up from the dining room table and approaching him.

"Tyler- what was that? How did you make-"

"TYLERS AWAKE!" Jay shouts as he jumps down from the kitchen island stool and tackles his big brother. Their dad smiles while giving Tyler a look. Soon, their mom comes over and pulls their dad away, quietly scolding him. Tyler lets out a deep sigh and picks up Jay, putting him on his shoulders for a piggy back ride around the living room.

Tyler throws Jay off of his back, having him land on the couch with an eruption of way-too-early-in-the-morning-to-be-this-hyper giggles.

The Joseph family finishes eating dinner before heading out into town, and, Tyler's dad was right. Tyler was stuck in the driver's seat of his car driving his siblings around. He turned up his car radio and they sang Christmas songs all the way around town, making stops as his siblings pointed out the windows.

2:47pm

Maddie wanted to go to Blockbuster to rent some more holiday movies, Zach wanted to stop by the strip mall to get a gift for his girlfriend (which Tyler was absolutely going to bug him about the rest of the night as soon as they got home), and Jay wanted to get ice cream, and was very upset to learn that no, not many ice cream shops are open in 25°F weather.

Tyler was sitting with all his siblings at a small diner for lunch when his blackberry buzzed in his pocket.

"We just finished last minute gift shopping. Stall coming home for maybe another 30 minutes so we can hide stuff xx -Mom"

Tyler quickly shoved his phone back in his pockets.

"Hey, who wants desert?" Tyler smiled at his siblings, watching Jay's eyes light up at the idea.

"We never get desert." Maddie questions, looking at Tyler suspiciously.

"Well, my treat. How about some pie?"

4:18pm

All the siblings walk into the house with shopping bags and take out containers, tracking in snow and mud as they pile inside.

Zach, Maddie and Jay all disperse their ways into their rooms with their goodies as Tyler laughs and hangs up his jacket.

"Tyler hon, can we talk?" Tyler's mom sneaks up behind him, holding the envelope. Tyler notices the check is still inside, and frowns.

"Yeah, of course." They both make their way to the dining room table, and sit across from each other.

"How did... where did all that money come from?" He notices his mom fidgeting with her wedding ring. She seems awfully concerned.

"From school, I get paid to play, and well- since I'm a good basketball player-" Tyler's mom suddenly reaches over and grabs his hand.

"Why are you giving us that much money?" She persists, but her voice is soft. It's jarring.

"What do you mean? It's Christmas and- you guys are struggling. Don't act like you aren't. I see how you and Dad hold your breath when checking the mail, I see it. And I have money now and I wanna help."

"But is it all your money?" Tyler's mom says back without waiting for a beat. Tyler looks at her confused.

"N-no, not all of it- I have some left over still. And I get paid twice a month, even if it was all I had I'd make it back pretty easy-" Tyler looks at his mother, and watches as she sighs. She looks concerned, and it makes Tyler's heart beat faster.

"I heard somewhere, that sometimes... when someone is planning on... taking their life, that they start giving away all their money, all their possessions. To loved ones. They start... preparing." The world freezes. Tyler's face drops.

That's not what was happening. Yes, he's depressed, yes, just last week he was sobbing on the bathroom floor of his dorm room on call with the suicide hotline, but that's not what he was doing. Being home for the holidays made him feel better. Made him feel like he could breathe and distract. His family made him feel better, hell, his family was the only reason he was continuing. They were his rock. Without them, he wouldn't know what to do. Without his family he would have given up a long, long time ago. Maybe it was from the guilt of knowing how they'd feel if he was gone, maybe it was because the nostalgia made him think of how he was before he grew depressed, maybe it was because his family supported him, and loved him, even if they don't know how he struggles, even if they don't know who he really is inside. They don't know how badly he wants to pursue music, they don't know how many times they almost lost him, they don't know how many times he's held back tears in church because who he was was something that wouldn't fit into the Joseph Family Mold. But even then, he loved them. And he wanted them to be okay. And he wanted to make sure they'd keep their house.

"I... I saw your scars, Ty." And just like that, he's snapped out of his thoughts and his heart sinks to his feet. His body feels cold, and the room suddenly feels dark and heavy. He doesn't speak. He doesn't move. He just looks at her.

"Talk to me. What's going on? Why are you... doing that? Are you- do you- want to die?" This conversation can't be real. It just can't. They were never supposed to know. He can't explain it to them, they won't understand.

"I'm fine, mom." His voice is barely a whisper. It's all he can get out of himself. But luckily, it's enough. 

"Okay. That's.. that's okay. You don't have to talk to me. Just, know that we're here, okay? We love you."

The rest of Christmas is clouded. Tyler goes through the motions. He smiles when his siblings open his gifts, and he says thank you when he opens his. He's a robot during Christmas service. He looks down when he's supposed to be praying, but doesn't even close his eyes. Doesn't even mutter a simple 'amen'. He becomes a performer. He watches the movies, eats the candy, laughs at the stories, but when it's time to go back to school, he packs his bag, hugs everyone goodbye, and drives back to Otterbein in complete silence.