Øverturning the lies (a twenty one pilots fanfiction)

~Tyler~

He wants to jerk away, wants to push this red-robed figure away, but he doesn't. 

When Nico touches his cheek, the gesture seems to be gentle.

But Tyler can sense the power behind that, the bishop's desire to...to...he exhales. 

To hurt him. 

He shouldn't be surprised.

But he is.

Nico wants to hurt him. 

Beneath all the thin facade of kind, there is a dark, dark soul that is trying its hard to corrupt him too. 

Will he let it? 

Does he have a choice? 

No matter how he could try to fight, he knows how steady, how unwavering Nico's presence is. 

Kind, straight-out cruel, indifferent...it doesn't matter. 

Because he will always remain here.

Always. 

His presence isn't always easy to identify-but, there, beneath the too-heavy hearts and broken smiles and lips that refuse to say a single word-he is there. 

That thought doesn't give him any strength. 

No matter what he does, even if he achieves some great success he will still fall prey to this evil.

That is simply the order of things.

The way the great game of chance had spun the madness he called his life.

What can he do about it?

Nothing.

So why bother?

Even if he pretends Nico's very existence is false, it will not change anything. 

Tyler hangs his head.

"Oh, child..." Nico says, in his old, soothing tone. 

But his voice shifts before Tyler knows what's happening.

"Maybe I do what to hurt you."

His hand is on Tyler's shoulder, holding him in an impossibly tight grip he can't free himself from.

"Maybe I don't care about you," the bishop says. "Maybe I simply desired freedom."

Freedom?

"Yes," Nico says.

"You don't feel free. I know it. If you did, there would be something very wrong, something wrong indeed..."

No. 

Surely that would mean something right. 

Surely it would. 

"No. Freedom is a lie. A pretty thought but nothing more. From the moment you are born and the first breath crosses your lips, is that a decision you choose? Or is it an instinct; your very existence owing to chance and nothing more?" 

Tyler frowns. 

He finds himself wanting to find a fault in that statement but he can't. 

Maybe the bishop is right and maybe it really is all random. 

Meaningless. 

Meaningless. 

"No," the bishop says. "Not meaningless." 

Tyler just looks at him. 

"Simply, lacking. Lacking in not potential, no, but understanding." 

Tyler just shakes his head.

"No?" Nico tilts Tyler's chin up. "Tell me, do you understand why you are here?"

He shakes his head again. 

"Tell me," the bishop urges. 

"No," Tyler says, trying to put all of his remaining courage in that one syllable. 

"Perhaps you aren't the only one," Nico says cryptically. "Perhaps all of us are wondering. Wandering."

"Who are you?" 

Those words are ripped from his mouth before he even knows what's happening. 

"I am many things, child. Many things, yet so little. So much, but so limited." 

The bishop stares down at his black-tinted hands and sighs.

"We share one thing in common," Nico says, placing his arm around Tyler's shoulders. "We both want to be more than we already are."

What more could Nico want? 

"I teach them," Nico says, "I teach them and I help them but in the end I cannot choose anyone's path for them." 

Somehow Tyler doubts that. 

Nico is far more powerful than he claims to be, and both of them know it. 

"Of course," the bishop says. "If not, how else could I succeed in bringing you here?"

"I'm not in Dema!" Tyler yells. "I'm dreaming!" 

"That's what you think," Nico says calmly. "But never forget, I will always be a part of you." 

When he jolts awake for a moment he forgets where he is and who he is. 

He looks up at the sky, at the stars, and only feels insignificant. 

He closes his eyes and thinks, I'm safe I'm safe I'm safe. 

By now he should feel like it. 

Days are drifting away and he no longer spends them alone. 

But. 

Something still feels wrong.