The Good Life ~ Troyler AU

forty - troye

Back to Perth. Back in the airport and back to the city, and I might still be carrying my fake passport, but it was time to be Troye Sivan again, as much as I hated it. 

I flew in to Perth at about ten in the evening. From the plane, it was as bright and thriving with light and a neon glow as if nothing had changed since I'd left, and it gave me the slightest current of excitement under all the fear and nerves. At least Tyler was here, even if he was still unreachable. At least there wasn't an ocean between us anymore. 

I tapped my fingers restlessly on the thick glass, wondering whether Harto would change her mind about letting me go into the building to help find Troye, and thinking about how they would set it on fire. The operation wasn't due for a few days, so at least I had a while to convince her - in the meantime I was sure she'd just set me up in a hotel for a while or something. I didn't matter. The only thing that mattered that was soon, if everything went as planned, I would have Tyler in my arms, a concept that had seemed impossible just a week or two ago.

Harto was waiting for me at Arrivals, an island among all the families waiting to greet the people off the plane, a phone to her ear, her eyes fixed on me. As I approached, she held the phone out to me without a word. 

I took it warily. "Hello?" I asked.

"Troye, hi."

It was Connor. His voice, however weary, was incredibly comforting. "Con," I breathed out, "What's happening? Isn't this too dangerous? How's T-"

"Tyler took matters into his own hands today. Got a key off of Carter somehow."

Not Carter, no. "Oh my G-" I started, turning away from Harto slightly so she didn't see the panic on my face, because there were a lot of things that Carter could do in that situation and I didn't like a single one of them.

"Got his face slammed into the wall a few times for his trouble." Connor interrupted, sounding numb. Like he hadn't slept in days. "His nose is broken, but he'll live."

I swallowed hard, shutting my eyes against the horrific image in my mind, because that wouldn't help Tyler and that wouldn't help me. "Is that what you called to tell me or is there anything else?" I asked as calmly as I could. 

"That's not it, no." Now Connor sounded like he was in pain. "No, there's...something else, it's...it's Dan..."

"I know that he died." Harto frowned slightly at my harsh tone, but I waved her off. I didn't want to think about Dan because thinking about him hurt, and I couldn't handle it right now in the middle of everything else.

"No. No, he didn't, Troye." 

And the phone slipped from my fingers and shattered on the floor.

A little while later, after Harto had found me another phone and sat me down so I didn't drop it again, I rang Connor and let him finish. My hand was shaking so badly that the man Harto had sent to basically babysit me was staring at me as if I was mad. Maybe I was.

"I saw Carter going down to the basement quarters, right?" Connor was still in shock too, it seemed. "He looked majorly pissed off, so I followed him and I found him..."

His voice trailed off and I squared my shoulders. "Go on."

"I found him smashing Tyler's head into the wall." He sighed as I shuddered inwardly, my whole body rejecting the thought. "I got Carter to fuck off but then I heard - I heard Dan."

I sighed too as if that would erase the words. "What did he say?"

"He was pissed. He was so angry." 

"Does he think..." I felt a sharp dart of nausea suddenly, shooting through me like poison. "Does he think we just...just left him down there?"

"I think so. I didn't ask. I left, I - I haven't said anything to anyone."

"Not even -"

"Jesus, especially not Phil, not right now anyway." Connor tutted slightly. "He'd go insane, Troye, can you imagine? If the person you loved was right there being hurt and you -"

He stopped dead. I struggled to inhale as Connor stumbled over apologies, the oxygen burning my tongue with the weight of it all, and suddenly Harto was taking the phone out of my hand.

"I only have so many of these, Troye," she hissed, before bringing to her ear. "Connor. It's me. Stop freaking him out and tell me what's happening on the inside."

I listened hard, but all I could hear was agitated mumbling from Connor's end and the occasional 'yes' or 'no' from Harto. I was fidgeting awkwardly when suddenly she hung up and grabbed my forearm, starting to rush me out of the airport.

"What's wrong?" I asked quickly. She was already texting someone else, her fingers flying across the screen, and didn't look at me.

"Change of plans. The Family must have gotten word about something happening, they're transferring Tyler to another one of their cities. Tomorrow."

"What? To where?" 

"Melbourne." Harto kept her eyes fixed on her phone, but she was frowning fiercely. "I don't have the resources to take this kind of operation across the whole damn country."

My heart stopped. "You're not going...you're not going to leave it all, are you?" I asked faintly, and Harto shook her head impatiently.

"Are you mad?" she snorted. "No. We're doing this tonight. Right now."

I should have been happy to be getting Tyler back so soon, and I was, but I was also terrified; terrified that this wouldn't work, that Tyler would die in the fire or be killed before we could reach him - and terrified that it would, and there would be nothing left of him but an empty shell and a pair of dead eyes.

That he would hate me, as he had every right to. 

"I was planning to do this on Friday morning, but oh well." Harto's eyes were glittering disconcertingly. "Chaos breeds in the dark, and that's exactly what we need."