Øverturning the lies (a twenty one pilots fanfiction)

~Tyler~

Routine. Something that has always made him feel at ease. Stable. Like things weren't going to crumble at the slightest touch, leaving him with nothing to hold onto.

 He would never say it aloud-never could say it aloud, but the bishops' routine, always constant and secure in its rhythm-had taken root in his mind, helped win him over. As terrible as it sounded in his mind, the solidness of those daily motions had given him some sense of purpose.

 Living among the banditøs, he had been gripped by a sense of such familiarly that grew even more chilling as time went by, for the yellow-clad rebels built their lives around a schedule as well. 

Of course they did.

 That should have reassured him...but it instead it gave him the feeling that his every move was being constrained, that he was only able to move just so in any direction. He never voiced those feelings. This was supposed to be what he wanted. This was supposed to be a place were he could be safe. 

And as he carefully takes off his jacket, marked over with yellow tape, he admits to himself that he did feel less secure with the color of the banditøs wrapped around his body. He already feelsso very exposed, even though he was wearing a shirt underneath and no one was around. Perhaps that was what was making him feel so apprehensive-having to come to terms with himself.

 Ridiculous.

That thought flashes across his mind and refuses to exit. 

Why do I always make things so much more complicated than they should be? Tyler asks himself.

 And he truly doesn't know. Already he's filled with so much irritation that he can't go through the simple motions of life without thinking far too deeply. But he tries to bury those thoughts.

 Manages to simply breathe for long enough to pull his shirt off as well, trying to avoid staring down at the now-bare, so far unmarked, unscarred. skin of his chest, having to curl his hands into fists, disgusted how quickly, how easily that urge to do something, anything to himself comes.

So he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to only focus on the coolness of the water, tries to focus on what he knows is supposed to be a normal piece of any day.

 Get a hold of yourself, he tells himself

But that awful feeling, telling him he could do something, it would be so easy, he knows how easy it is...it creeps back over him. 

"No..." he says aloud. "I can't! I won't!"

 He finally just dunks his head underwater, hoping that will give him some feeling of relief. And it does. For a moment. 

Then panic and anger creeps in, making him wonder why, why he still feels this way. He can't bear the thought of dealing with his own thoughts right now, so he takes as little time as he can.

 Finally he pulls himself out of the water, knowing he's cleaned up the best he can. He pulls his clothes back on, then finds himself sitting there, running his hands through his wet hair, unable to make himself get up, because getting up meant having to face another day, and that scares him

. But eventually he does, sighing slightly, but doing it nonetheless. Then goes to find Jenna. He has a strange request, and he trusts her to do it. She agrees, filling him with a sense of relief. He no longer trusts himself around sharp objects, and something needs to change. When she's done cutting his hair, he gives her a hug.

 "Thanks," he whispers, running his hand across his now-brutally short hair. It's different. But not a bad different. Mostly a good different.

 "Anytime," Jenna replies, smiling.

.And Tyler reliazes he hasn't been avoiding her exactly, but he has sort of pushed her away without meaning to. He frowns. He looks at Jenna questioningly. Doesn't even have to say anything. She understands.

They end up spending most of the day together. They still have responsibilities, but Tyler doesn't mind much. When he ends up hugging her goodnight, he's relieved he has resisted the voices. 

The thought of having to tell her he has done something else makes him feel sick. When Josh joins him a little while later, laying down beside him in their little tent, he feels even more relieved. He couldn't do that to Josh either. Suddenly he turns away from his fren, tears sliding down his face. 

"Tyler?" Josh asks uncertainly. "Is something wro-" 

"Something's always wrong!" Tyler bursts out. 

Josh places a gentle hand on his back. "All of us are broken here, Ty. All of us."

 Tyler finds himself formulating a sharp reply but bites it back, not wanting to lash out at Josh. "All of us are broken," Josh continues. "So it's okay that you are. It's okay. Do you hear me?" Tyler nods.

"It's not fair that each new day is a fight for survival. It's not. And it's certainly not easy, is it?"Josh asks.

 Tyler shakes his head. "But we're not going to give up. We're going to keep going. The way I see it, the world wants nothing more than for us to just give in. So we gotta prove them wrong."

 For a moment Tyler is silent.

 "Good pep talk?" Josh asks.

 "Yeah," Tyler says. "You're the best, Josh."

 "You really think so?" Josh asks. 

"Of course!" Tyler says. 

"Sorry," Josh says. "It's just..." 

"Long day?" Tyler asks. 

"Yeah," Josh sighs. "Again." 

Tyler turns toward him.

 "Gotta prove 'em wrong, remember? Can't give in to the crazy." They fist bump, finding a little bit of hope in their friendship, at least.