The Good Life ~ Troyler AU

twenty-three - troye

@smolkittensivan is my recently adopted child, check out her troyler fics because they are AMAZING

"You're not even trying. You've fought better than this as a teenager, Sivan, do you want to get shot at when we go to Midas?"

I rolled my eyes inwardly as I struggled to get out of Phil's hold, and then felt the barrel of his (unloaded) gun against my temple and sighed, finding myself defeated. Phil let go, panting hard, and Logan smiled patronizingly at me from his vantage point by the wall.

"Are you tired, Sivan? Is there something on your mind?"

I didn't answer. I stared very hard at the floor, imagining crossing the distance between us and beating the living shit out of him.

"Or is it someone on your mind?" His eyes burned through me as he studied me coldly, his smile more of a curl of lip than anything else. "I wouldn't have pinned you as the romantic type. I guess a lot has changed since Albury."

I physically flinched, the atmosphere taking a sharp plunge. Phil made a soft noise of pain - none of us would ever forget the name of that city, where - where -

I barely heard Logan's voice. "Have you forgotten so quickly? Did you even care? How does it feel?" He fired questions at me, and then delivered the killer blow. "Does Tyler know what happened that night?"

That brought me back to reality with a bang. I looked at him pleadingly, and started to say, "Logan, don't -", but it was too late. How the hell had everything escalated so damn quickly? Just a minute ago I'd been relaxed, bored even, and now I could barely breathe. Being around the Family was like being with a pack of wolves - tension could rise within seconds. Danger and fear were always, always imminent.

Logan jerked his head towards the door, not taking his eyes off of me. "Go get him, Phil," he commanded lightly, and the taller man left without a word. He looked at me guilty for half a second, but what good would that do?

"Albury," I whispered, shell shocked, the word leaving a bad taste in my mouth, "Was a long time ago."

Logan's tone was utterly unsympathetic. "A lot of things were a long time ago." He walked forwards until we were face to face, centimeters between us, and snickered softly. Laughing at the frozen look on my face, of the shaking of my hands at my sides. "But you...you've never changed, have you? No matter how much you've tried to outrun it. You'll always end up here, and you'll always end up a monster, Troye Sivan."

I turned my face away, my breath ripping over my lips like it would cut them, just as Phil came back with Tyler. Immediately I fixed on the confident mask I wore around him to put him more at ease and smiled weakly at him, but Tyler didn't return it. His eyes were huge and dark behind his scratched glasses, his shoulders curled inwards.

"Ah, Tyler." Logan sang. "Don't worry. Troye just has something to tell you."

Tyler's face flickered. He looked at me cautiously, then at Logan and even up at Phil, who was biting his lip and staring at the ground and offering no help. I didn't blame him. I wouldn't have helped in his position either - oh my God, I am a monster.

I hesitated, the words sticking to my tongue, and Logan inclined his head and Phil's hand flashed. Tyler winced and gasped as his nose started to bleed, a sudden burst of crimson, but otherwise didn't make a sound; he knew the drill now, and the fact that he'd ever had to learn made my heart ache - what was left of it anyway.

"He's waiting, Sivan," Carter said in a voice that allowed no room for error, and I swallowed hard. Tyler's gaze was latched onto me, drinking me in, desperate for me to say something, anything, that he wanted to hear.

"I've done some bad things," I started quietly, and had a jolt of de va ju, from back in the hotel room before everything went bad, when Tyler was unbroken and leagues stronger than the wreck of a human I saw before me. He smiled slightly, as if remembering. Reflecting.

Another nod, and Tyler lurched forwards from Phil's shove, his hands flying forward as he steadied himself. Logan was growing impatient. "I'll tell him then, will I?" He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Tyler, Troye isn't as squeaky clean as he's led you to believe. Once upon a time, before he was ever yours..."

I shut my eyes. It was too late to stop him now, and all I could do was stand and shiver as the memories came to tear me apart.

It was a simple job. Just go to the warehouse and make sure the shipment was secure - I'd done this a hundred times and never had a problem. Dan, Phil, Connor, Chris and PJ were all with me, the whole team. Everyone was pretty relaxed - we all knew this wasn't a big deal. It was three in the morning and so dense with fog that we could barely see, but it was fine. Everything was fine.

We checked the shipment - it was fine, like I'd known it would be - and headed out. My gun was loose in my hand, the metal freezing cold. Our breathing spun and shivered through the air like candyfloss.

They came out of the mist like ghosts, and the first shot slammed into the wall like a fist, and I knew already that this would not end well.

Without really thinking about it, we retreated into the warehouse, yelling and cursing as we ducked for cover behind stacked pallets - as soon as we did, I realised we were trapped, but it was too late. They were coming in.

The instant exchange of gunfire was deafening. I didn't know who our attackers were, but they were losing. I heard PJ screech like a banshee when a bullet darted through his arm, and at one point Phil's low roar of agony drowned out all other sound - but they were  faring worse, that much I could tell. It was plain to see that we were better trained than them, and even though we weren't shooting to kill and they outnumbered us, more and more of them were falling. 

Eventually the gunfire died down to silence. The floor was red and grey with their blood, our blood, maybe even my blood. I didn't know. My ears were ringing, and my whole body shook as I lowered my gun. 

One of them was praying. Phil was trying to hold back bone-shaking sobs, but his wounds weren't life-threatening, and all of us were standing up, looking at the people we'd felled but not killed, their guns out of reach now. 

"Let's go," was all I said, and that should have been it as we went to walk away, but as I neared the door there was a blur of movement from the floor - an injured man scrambling for his gun, his lips drawn back in a snarl - and I whipped around and shot.

And the gun kicked into my hand. And he screamed and screamed and screamed until I started to as well.

I blinked. I wasn't in the warehouse. And Tyler was looking at me like - well, like I just killed a man. Like the last thing that had kept him together had just twisted, turned, morphed into something as evil as the people that kept us here.

Behind him, Phil was rubbing his abdomen, remembering the shot that had nearly killed him, and I wished I was dead. And Logan was smiling like he'd just gotten the best present in the whole wide world.