Press Until It Breaks | drabble
Summary: “Bring him home.”
Characters: Edward Spade, Tyler Spade, Spade Family Attorney
Setting: Present time. Wonderland, London.
A/N: This drabble is in response to this. The texts mentioned are here.
He hadn't released his phone since he received those texts. Spelled out in clean font, the message was clear despite Tyler's way of twisting his wording, creating a layer of amusement. It was obvious Tyler hadn't believed he was going to be arrested when he sent those texts. But Edward hadn't received word from him since, giving him reasonable cause for concern. Tyler had always been a liability, often blinded by his own accompaniments. The fear of it one day becoming a consequence had been subdued by trust. But, for the first time, Edward could feel a falter in that trust.
The ring of his phone caught his attention, but before the first one could end, Edward had already answered, promptly present with a panicked Tyler. "Enough," he interrupted, fortitude coming though. "This line isn't safe to speak on. If— when they ask you questions, you will refuse answer on your Fifth Amendment rights. Nothing more than that needs to be said. Your freedom is dependant on these words, do you understand?" Edward knew the officers had begun interrogation. He only prayed that Tyler wasn't stupid enough to offer 'clever' remarks in place of a response. "The family lawyer will arrive soon to negotiate your detainment." There was a slight pause before he spoke again, and when he did a clear edge of emotion was present in his voice. "Niente panico, Tyler. Tu non ci sarai molto più a lungo." A click of the line, and Edward was gone.
No time was wasted dwelling on the mistakes of his son. Pondering the state of Tyler's freedom wasn't a leisure he could afford right now. Instead, Edward acted immediately; dialing a sequence of numbers so familiar they had become pure muscle memory. The line rang once, then twice, and Edward began to feel the gnawing persistence of anxiety fester at the pit of his stomach. This was supposed to be the direct line, dammit. He paid extra for this number with assurance that it would always be answered immediately. Edward wasn't a man to be played, and by the fourth ring he was truly debating how consequential it would be to place a hit on his own lawyer's head. And as if summoning the lawyer with the threat of that thought along, the phone was finally answered, "Mr. Spade?"
"Tyler is being held at the police station." He hadn't expected the waver in his own voice, always so confident and brisk. Tumultuous regret, anger, and grief all laced through every fibre of his being, shaking the foundations of an invincible man. 'Protect your children' — the words his father said to him to day his first son was brought into the world, the vow he'd made to Vivianne. He would always protect their children, ensure their freedom and safety was never compromised. Above his duty to his job and to Wonderland was his duty as a father, something he'd readily accepted at the time. And he had failed, at the expensive of his own child's security. "I need... I need you to bring him home." So vague and lacking the professionalism he embodied, but Edward couldn't muster the energy to build up a facade. "I will, sir," his lawyer promised. "Expect a call within the next hour." Edward hung up without a response, doubt filling every inch of him, still clutching to his phone.
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