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Tucker grabbed handfuls of grass by the grave and tore them out, throwing them to the side and repeating the process over and over again. He came here every week, and each week he just sat there for a few hours, ripping out grass, staring up at the sky, or just thinking. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to Tucker that some asshole had decided to drive his car while drunk. It wasn’t fair that he smashed into the side of Tucker’s car. It wasn’t fair that Tucker got to live and Junior didn’t.
Tucker stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt and laid down beside the headstone, staring up at the sky. Junior always loved to watch the clouds slowly go by, pointing out different shapes and animals that Tucker could never see. They all just looked like clouds to him.
Tucker never saw the point in bringing flowers to graves. They would just die in the next few days, making the graveyard even more depressing. So Tucker brought rocks that he had found in different places, the prettiest ones he could find. Junior loved collecting them. Tucker played with a smooth milky white rock that he had found outside of a bar. No one could understand why one grave had a bunch of rocks while the others had flowers.
He sat up and looked at the headstone. ‘Junior Tucker. Taken from life by an asshole who lived.’ Tucker smiled as he read it. He had to fight hard for those words to be engraved. It was his son, and he got to choose what went on it.
Tucker balanced the rock on top of the headstone carefully. He did it every week, and each week they would fall down from wind and land behind the headstone. Tucker never moved them. There was a pile of rocks forming behind it and Tucker refused to get rid of them. A graveyard worker tried to get rid of them and Tucker yelled at him. Now he goes nowhere near Junior’s grave or Tucker.
“It’s not fair.” Tucker said to no one, staring up at the sky with his arms crossed behind his head. “It’s not fair that he’s out there somewhere, living perfectly fine after he killed you. Assholes like him deserve to die. I know you’d hate me for saying that, but it’s true.” Tucker said quietly, rolling onto his side to trace patterns in the dirt. “You were too young and innocent to realize that he really does deserve to die for what he did. You had too much heart for your own good. It’s just not fair. I know life’s not fair, but it shouldn’t be like this. You were only 5, but you thought you were a big boy. You’re gonna be 6 next week. I’ve already gotten your gift. You’d love it.”
Tucker kept talking with a watery smile through his tears. “The guys miss you too. Especially Caboose. He cries a lot. Don’t worry, I’m there for him because you can’t be.” Tucker couldn’t even see, his vision blurred by tears. “I miss you the most Junior. I was scared to have a son, scared that I would be a horrible father, that I couldn’t do it. And now I’m scared I can’t do it without you. It’s all my fault. You died because I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry Junior. I love you.”
Tucker sat with his knees pulled to his chest, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He couldn’t break down, not anymore. He had to be strong. He didn’t want his friends to look at him with sympathetic looks and baby step around him like he was so fragile that they would break him. He wiped away any stray tears and took a deep breath. He was okay.
Tucker walked through the gates into the grave hard, toy dinosaur in hand. He headed for the back corner, where he insisted Junior be buried. Away from everyone else in his own little world. He would have liked that.
“Happy birthday bud. Crazy huh? Just last year you were 5. Now 6. I brought you a present like I promised.” Tucker set the toy dinosaur against the headstone. “You love dinosaurs, even though you said they were for babies.” Tucker smiled weakly, taking a deep breath. “I miss you. But you know that already. You weren’t there to get me up this morning. You didn’t jump on my bed and bounce on my chest chanting for me to get up because it was your birthday. That’s why I’m late. I don’t have my personal alarm clock anymore.” Tucker let out a watery laugh, wrapping his arms around his stomach, pulling his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth.
“Tucker?” Tucker lifted his head up from his knees at the voice. He lowered his head back down when he saw it was Wash.
“Hi.” Tucker said, voice muffled by his knees. “Why are you here?”
Wash frowned and sat down beside Tucker. “Visiting an old friend.”
“Oh.”
Wash looked over at Tucker who had his arms wrapped around his stomach, head buried in his knees that were pulled up to his chest. He looked at the headstone, and the dinosaur leaned against it. “It’s Junior’s birthday.”
“Yup.”
Wash frowned at Tucker’s one word answer. He didn’t look up, just started pulling out fistfuls of grass and throwing them to the side. “Are you-”
“I’m fine Wash. I’m not a child.” Tucker looked up at Wash, eyes unreadable. “I’m not fragile and you guys need to stop treating me like I’ll break if you touch me!” Tucker whispered fiercely, staring down at the ground and tearing some more grass out.
“I don’t think you’re going to break Tucker. And I know you’re not fragile. You’re strong. People go crazy or can’t take it when they lose their child. You’re still here, but you’re not fine.”
“You don’t know how I feel Wash! You can’t tell me how I feel, because only I know that!” Tucker yelled, digging his hands into his sides and clenching his jaw. “You don’t know Wash.”
“I do Tucker. I know too well. You’ve been bottling your emotions for a year Tucker, and it’s not healthy. Each day it gets worse. Trust me, I was like that too when I first lost my friend.”
“I don’t want your empathy!” Tucker said through a clenched jaw. “I told you I’m fine, so just leave me alone.”
Wash sighed. He knew Tucker didn’t want to be alone. Tucker needed someone. “I’m not gonna leave Tucker. I’ll sit here for as long as you do, and I won’t say anything if you don’t want me too. But I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Why?! Because you think I need a babysitter? Because you don’t trust me to not do something stupid and hurt myself? Because I don’t need your supervision. I’ve been fine on my own every week, and I’ve never needed your help!” Tucker yelled, pulling his knees to his chest again. “I don’t need anyone’s help.” His voice was quieter as he stared at Junior’s grave.
“Tucker…”
“Stop.” Tucker whispered, blinking rapidly to try and get rid of the tears. He couldn’t lose control of his emotions anymore. “I’m okay on my own.” He said slowly, keeping his voice even.
“You don’t have to be alone, Tucker. You can’t deal with this on your own.”
“I can. I have been and I’ve been fine. Just leave.” Tucker said, voice emotionless.
Wash shook his head. “I’m not leaving you Tucker.”
Tucker turned to face him and Wash saw tears in the corners of his eyes. “I’m fine okay? Just go away!” Tucker yelled, shoving Wash’s shoulder and wiping his eyes with his sleeve before tears could fall. “I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone’s help!”
Wash didn’t move when Tucker shoved him. Instead Wash moved closer and wrapped his arms around Tucker’s huddled form. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to.”
Tucker pushed weakly at Wash’s chest but he didn’t let go. Tucker went to speak but let out a small sob, emotions clogging his throat. Wash felt Tucker’s body collapse against his chest, releasing all tension. “Tucker, its okay to break down sometimes. We all do.”
Tucker pushed his face into Wash’s shoulder, trying to ignore the tears that had began streaming down his cheeks. He couldn’t hold it back anymore and sobbed into Wash’s chest. Wash pulled Tucker closer to him, keeping him safe.
“It’s not fair.” Tucker sobbed and Wash nodded.
“I know it’s not fair Tucker. Life isn’t fair and it sucks a lot.”
Tucker shook his head and let out another sob. “It should have been me. He should have lived. He was too young to die. I should have died.” Tucker whispered and Wash’s heart broke.
“It’s not your fault Tucker. Neither of you should have died. I know you’d change it if you could, but you can’t. I wish I could have gone back and saved my friend. I thought I should have died instead. But it isn’t our choice.” Wash said slowly, feeling Tucker’s body shake against his.
“I know that. But I just want him back.”
They sat like that for hours, Tucker against Wash’s chest with Wash’s arms around his body. Tucker had calmed down and went back to picking at the grass. “I’m sorry.” Tucker whispered, plucking a stray strand of grass out and breaking it into two pieces.
“Don’t you dare. You can’t be sorry for breaking down. We all have to at some point. You can only take so much, and you kept it all inside. Don’t apologize for being human.”
Tucker nodded slowly, taking a rock out of his pocket. He rolled it over in his hands a few times before speaking. “Junior loved collecting rocks. He would make me stop in random places so he could look for the odd, pretty ones.” Tucker ran his hand over it one more time before placing it on top of the headstone. It was a dark gray, shaped almost like a square.
Junior had died before Tucker had even met Wash. Wash smiled. “He sounds like a good kid.”
Tucker laughed, smiling fondly. “He is, was. He liked the little things in life, too much heart for his own good I guess. He always kept me in check. Better adult then I was.” Tucker said with a forced smile. “He would have liked you.”
Wash looked down at Tucker. “How do you know that?”
“I just do.”