The Good Life ~ Troyler AU

thirty-eight - troye

Harto was frightening efficient. By the time I was properly awake by about eight in the morning, she was already calling to tell me that her supervisor had approved her decision to help me, but expected double what they'd usually charge because of the added danger.

Money, at least, wasn't the issue here. Connor had sent me away with so much of it that I could pay what they were asking, and then half of it again - I would have found some way to get the money anyway, but the ease of it all was breathlessly refreshing. It was so reassuring to be actually doing something, to know that I was making a conscious effort to help Tyler.

There was a smile stuck on my face, and then Harto called me to tell me they planned to set the building on fire.

She seemed disconcertingly unaffected when I gasped down the phone. "Just a minor one," she said calmly, rustling something in the background. "It won't spread to other buildings. It's just a distraction so that we can get our guys in."

"But what if..." I couldn't shake the image of Tyler trapped in a burning building and shut my eyes tight against it, shuddering. "You can't guarantee his safety if you set it on fire." 

She sighed down the phone, suddenly sounding a lot colder. "We can't guarantee his safety at any time. If you want us to do this, you should keep your nose out."

"I'm going in with your guys, at least." 

"You are not. You're flying to Perth and then staying put wherever we tell you to, understand? I won't have you jeopardizing the operation by getting recognized. We're breaking every rule we have to help you -" 

"Why even bother then?" I snapped, and her voice became glacial.

"Because your friend Connor has friends here." She sounded close to hanging up on me. "Don't make me regret helping you, because I don't think you want to see what will happen if you do."

"I -"

"I will leave him there to rot." Harto spat, and my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. "But then you already have that covered, Sivan, don't you? Pack your bags. We'll be in touch." And the line went dead, and I gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles went white,and sank to the floor like a stone in dark water.

 It had never been this hard before, but then it had never been quite like this. 

"Troye?"

"Yes?"

Not the warehouse. Someone else, cool and grey and formless, where the only solid thing was Tyler, and there were hand prints all over his bare torso like a hundred people had grabbed him at once, a blaring and brilliant scarlet. 

He didn't take his eyes off of me, but they were a little hazy - it had been so long since I'd seen him. "Are you coming to find me soon?" he asked; his voice was a little off too, almost like a recording. 

I blinked back tears that formed like pearls. "Of course I am." I promised, but before I got any closer he was curling inwards and falling away, and I saw more brash red hand-prints forming along his spine like someone was doing as if it say, this is all, all mine.