Page 48 of Always You

Tyler nodded, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “Yeah, and I can't get it out of my head. It’s always there as if it just happened. I thought I was managing it, but sometimes… sometimes it just becomes too much.”

“Do you have an idea what triggered you today?”

He shrugged and looked helpless. “A smell, a…” He went quiet, staring forward, unblinking, shutting down.

Dissociating.

“Tyler?” I waited. “Can you come back, Tyler?”

He stiffened, then hunched and clenched his hands into fists.

“Tyler? Are you with me now? Can you tell me five things you can see?”

“You, my bed… my…” He shook his head and tilted his chin. The closet, my jacket. Four things… I can smell… I can hear…” He scrubbed his eyes again. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” I said, my voice soft, waiting for him to fully come back to the room, helping him count down what he could see and hear. “Would you want to talk to me?”

He shook his head.

“It doesn't have to be me? I could ask someone else?”

Tyler hesitated. “Can it be Marcus?”

“Sure.”

Tyler considered this, silent for a moment before letting out a shaky sigh. “Can you… can you get him back? I think… I need him here.”

Without hesitation, I pulled out the walkie-talkie and connected to Marcus.

“Can you come up?” I asked my friend, who opened the door after a few seconds as if he had been close by and waiting for any sign he was needed. “He’s asking for you,” I said.

We exchanged a silent nod. Everything we needed to think about was in that quiet exchange.

We needed to call what we classified as a code red: an observation protocol to ensure Tyler's safety. It required a close watch, a decision not made lightly, but necessary given the circumstances. Tyler wouldn't be left alone, and staff members would take shifts to monitor him, ensuring that someone was always present to offer support or intervene, if necessary. From the way Tyler leaned into Marcus when he sat cross-legged next to him, I sensed Marcus was going to be our point of contact. The immediate relief washing over Tyler's face when Marcus was there was evident, and it felt right to give them this space—to let Marcus be the support Tyler clearly needed.

I glanced around the room, checking for any items that might cause Tyler to harm himself, and Marcus nodded again. He would check the other places I couldn't see, but he would keep everything calm and soothing.

“I got this,” he mouthed to me, and I held up a single finger.

Another staff member would check on Tyler and Marcus every hour to ensure their physical safety. Additionally, if Tyler didn't want Marcus present, or needed to talk, the protocols would evaluate his mental state and offer reassurance and companionship. We would increase the frequency of his therapy sessions with strategies to manage his PTSD symptoms more effectively. However, as the doctor at Guardian Hall, Marcus would be responsible for reviewing Tyler’s medication and adjusting it if necessary to manage his symptoms for the time being better.

Marcus would be staying at Guardian Hall for the foreseeable future.

This was serious.

Not only that, but Tyler's family would need to know, if that was what Tyler had indicated on his intake form.

My heart shattered for him.

“I’ll leave you two,” I murmured, feeling a complex mix of relief and sorrow as I exited the room. Tyler needed someone, and that person seemed to be Marcus.

As I closed the door behind me, the last sight I caught was Tyler curled against my friend, vulnerable but trusting.

I headed back to the office, pulled out the notes, advised his parents and sister, reassured them we were helping him, and then, sat in silence. Tyler's vague description of a market—the way he seemed to lose himself in the recounting—made me think he'd dissociated during our conversation. His gaze had become distant, and his voice faded as he spoke about the market, detaching from the present, the trauma front and center.

I wish I could say it was my first time seeing this.

It wasn't.

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