Page 82 of Never Too Late

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

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

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

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

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

“Tyler, we don’t –”

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

“I’m here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With no hesitation I send the text,

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

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

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

And the three lingering dots from Tyler stop.

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

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

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

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

Jae: Do you need any help?

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

Chapter forty-five

Dax

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