The Good Life ~ Troyler AU

forty-five - tyler

I was falling halfway out of reality with every stumbling step - I could see the moving swirl of the flashlight as Logan walked in front of me, and I could hear Caspar's footsteps following behind, and I could feel Troye's protective hold on my shoulder and forearm, but a part of me was far away and echoing. I was here but I wasn't and where I wasn't, I was safe.

We'd left Carter in a crumpled heap on the floor, but he was alive. I wished he was dead and hated myself for it, even with his crushing hold and hands scorched into my mind forever. He had left thin scratches all over my torso from clawing at my skin, but I still felt guilty.

Troye ducked his head to whisper in my ear. "I'll get you out of this, don't worry." he said lowly. "It'll all be okay. I promise."

We both knew how empty a promise it was, and I was so angry at him that it scared me, but I still clung to him like a child for comfort. "We can go home soon." he assured me. "I won't let them hurt you."

"Oh, yeah?"

The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them, sarcastic and bitter, and Troye paused a moment before replying. I wanted to see his face, but the limited light didn't allow it, and maybe that was a good thing.

"Not - not this time. Never again."

"Here now." Logan called suddenly. We were back at the office with the double doors, exactly where it had all started. As Logan headed in, the back-up generator must have kicked in, because the lights flickered slowly back to life – the situation didn't look any better illuminated. There was the ever-calm Logan, and Caspar with a rifle and a face full of self-loathing poorly disguised by blankness, and Troye, hampered by my weakness and his instinct of protection.

"I wouldn't hang around too long, Logan." he warned. "This building's on fire, you know."

Caspar and I started in surprise, but Logan just nodded slightly. "It's under control." he replied, and smiled at me. "Don't worry your pretty head, Tyler." he said lightly and my skin crawled. I moved closer to Troye so that I was pressed against him, desperately seeking solace that he couldn't give me.

Troye's hand twitched towards his gun. "What do you want, then?" he asked tightly.

"I have an idea."

"Of course you do."

Logan raised his eyebrows. "You'll stay here and work with us, just like before, and Tyler will stay in our custody, unharmed." When Troye scoffed derisively, Logan frowned. "He'll have the best accommodation we can offer, and my personal protection. I think I'm being quite generous here, Troye. I could kill him easily – or lock him in a room with Carter overnight. Which do you think he'd prefer?"

My skin crawled and I shunted myself back against the wall. Troye moved in front of me, so close that his back brushed my chest, and spat at Logan's feet. "If Carter ever touches Tyler again, he'll get it twice as badly as he just did." he snarled, his posture and tone screamingly aggressive. "And you, Logan, you can go fuck yourself."

Logan lifted his chin, his face like stone, closed off to any more discussion. "I'm sorry you feel that way." he said softly. His eyes moved past Troye, but before I could even turn my head the door opened and three more people joined us. There was Chris and PJ, who wrenched Troye's arms behind his back and pulled him away from me within a second – Caspar crossed the room to help them – and Connor, who slunk in with his head bowed and his shoulders hunched.

"W-what's going on?" I asked, stuttering with a dry mouth, and without a word Logan grabbed my shoulder, pulled me over to him and forced me to my knees with very little effort.

His gun touched the back of my skull like an icy-cold kiss, and I'd known this was coming for a very, very long time.

Troye writhed and shouted for me, but I was retreating into somewhere inside of me that didn't really care if Logan pulled the trigger or not. My death would be less of a murder and more of a mercy at this point; I couldn't live my entire life with all that had happened burned into my mind like a slave's brand. I'd never forget what blood tasted like when you spat it out after being kicked so hard it broke your ribs, or how fuzzy your vision went after someone punched you for so long that it left you temporarily blind, or, God forbid, how it felt to be touched like an object, kissed by a parasitical monster.

Troye was yelling, sobs ripping out of his throat as he fought his old friends. I heard Chris whisper that he was sorry, that he didn't have a choice, that it would all be over soon – but Troye wasn't listening.

"Logan don't! Don't, please don't – please -" he screamed, struggling wildly, "Connor you traitor, stop him, I'm your friend, please!"

But all Connor did was look away, swallowing hard, and for some reason opened the doors again, giving us a view of the long grey corridor stretched in front of me like a tunnel. I sank down slowly to the ground until Logan was only holding me up by my collar, and kept my eyes fixed on Troye. I wanted him to be the last thing I ever saw.

I loved him, in the end, so very much, and I would die for him. I just couldn't live for him, too.

"You shouldn't have betrayed your Family, Sivan," was all Logan said – and just before I shut my eyes, I saw Troye lunging towards me, and a gunshot kicked off like a firework.