The Good Life ~ Troyler AU

thirty-six - tyler

ayyy 5k thanks guys

Nightmares plagued me for half the day and the whole night - Carter kissing me, choking me like Caspar had, even killing me. I was dreading his next visit, but at least it had inspired a little more fight in me; I'd die before I let him touch me like that ever again. I could take anything else, just not that.

Dan wasn't quite as driven as I was, but I could understand that - he had given up a long time ago, and there was a deadness in his eyes that really would have merited a visit to a psychiatrist in the real world. Still, my fervent desire for freedom certainly intrigued him, so we threw ideas back and forth, but they were all impossible. Our schemes got more and more ridiculous the longer we spoke, to the point where I found myself laughing, really laughing, for the first time in weeks. 

Dan's giggling cut out suddenly. He was staring at the door, at the window, where Logan was there - staring in at us, face unreadable. I hadn't seen him in a while, but I knew he was just here to make sure I was alive.

"It's okay," I breathed, looking down at the floor quickly. "He'll go away, Dan. Don't worry." And he did, after a moment that felt like a year, and we both sighed in relief.

"Listen," Dan said lowly, "I know this is sort of intrusive, but why is so important for them to keep you alive? I'm only here for their convenience - Carter needed someone to take all his anger out on before you, you know." I saw a flash of pain in his eyes, someone agonizing memory. "But you, I don't -"

"Troye." I said bluntly. "My b - Troye." It didn't feel right to call him my boyfriend anymore, even if I did still love him. "I'm alive so that he comes back for me and they can keep him here too. Except he's not coming back."

Dan didn't try to tell me that he would, or that it would all be okay. He'd given up on being rescued too, a very long time ago, but I didn't pity him because I knew it wouldn't help either of us. We were stuck side-by-side in private hells and we were going to have to get out of this alone. And after another hour or two, we had come up with a plan that, although not foolproof, at least had a chance of possibly working.

So when Carter came back and pushed me against the wall to stick his tongue down my throat, I let him. And when he slid his hands down my back, I pushed mine under his t-shirt. And I was dying as bruises formed on my skin beneath his fingers, but this was the only - not the best, the only - chance we had.