Chapter Text
"He doesn't exist. I'm the only one that exists. It's time to finally take back control. Real control."
The first word that came to his mind after pulling the trigger was 'no'. A simple word, just two letters, but a lot of meaning while Tyrell's universe was crumbling in front of his eyes. He regretted his action the moment the bullet reached Elliot's stomach. He hated himself the moment the man's desperate eyes reached his own. He wanted to take Elliot's spot when his body reached the ground. Instead, he lowered his gun and walked toward him.
'Never show your emotions' his dad once said. 'They'll use them against you'. All his life, he had listened to him. He didn't even cried during his father's funeral, as if he was keeping a promise. Some days, it was harder than others. He knew that in those moments, he was losing control. Especially when it came to Elliot. But once again, it was time to listen to his father.
"You know," he said in the coldest voice he could manage, "when you gave me this, you said to stop anyone who gets in the way of our plan."
Elliot was shaking, blood oozing from his wound.
"I didn't know what you meant, but now it's very clear."
He could barely look at Tyrell, whose words were contradicting his heart shattering to pieces. He got closer to the man on the floor, while all he wanted to do was to erase this image from his brain.
"You did this to yourself, Elliot. You asked earlier what 'all the way' is. This is it."
He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. And that's when Tyrell realized. Realized what he had done. Shooting the only person he could really care about, the only person he could think about during all these months locked down with a computer.
He dropped the gun on the floor. It landed in Elliot's blood in a disgusting splash. Why was there so much blood? It wasn't supposed to happen, they were supposed to finally finish their project together, to be one, to be the gods of a new world, together, not like this, just together—
Oh god. Elliot was going to die because of him.
Finally reacting, he quickly put his hands against Elliot's stomach to stop the blood from getting out. Was it even necessary? Elliot was unconscious, and there was already so much blood everywhere.
At the same moment, two men dressed in white passed the door, alerted by the shooting.
Tyrell could only imagine what scene they had in front of their eyes: an unmoving wounded hacker lying on the floor, next to a man in a suit, crying, and begging for help.
Was he crying, now?
He couldn't sleep. The sun was almost going to rise but he could only stare at Elliot in his bed, still asleep— no, he wasn't asleep, he had shot him— with multiples bags and fluids attached to his arm. He had stayed with him, sitting on an uncomfortable wooden chair from the moment the Dark Army allowed him to be there. He had called Angela as well. But he didn't feel any better. If any, worse. They said Elliot was going to be okay. They said he would eventually wake up. They didn't tell him if Elliot would be mad at him. They didn't tell him if Elliot would hate him. They didn't tell him if he would ask him to leave and would never see him ever again.
He wished this day had never happened.
Tyrell woke up. But was already awake. Standing, even, in the same place he had been before. Holding a gun in front of Elliot, tears in his eyes. Everything was identical.
"He doesn't exist," Elliot said to himself, the exact same way he did the day before, as if there was someone else in the room with them.
What?
"I'm the only one that exists."
Elliot—
"It's time to finally take back control. Real control."
Elliot turned away toward the computer.
Tyrell shot. He didn't know if it was out of fear, surprise, or both. He had promised himself he'd never do it again, but he did. The same eyes as the day before looked at him. The same blood was dripping on the floor. Everything was the same. Was it a nightmare? Was he stuck in hell, destined to relive this scene over and over again?
The same two men in white entered and Tyrell decided to act as he did before. What else could he do? The wrong was already done.
He spent the night with Elliot again. He didn't sleep. He looked at the window and saw the first lights of the sun appearing. Maybe he was just fucked up. This day was just a big déjà vu. The sun would continue to rise and he would take Elliot's hand again and say how sorry he was.
He woke up.
He decided it was definitely hell when he met Elliot's eyes with a gun barrel between them.
This time, he didn't think twice.
He put the firearm in his mouth before pulling the trigger.
He wasn't even surprised when he woke up. It was his punishment, he deserved this. The endless circle would be his only company in hell. Or maybe… was it a new beginning? A way to fix things?
"He doesn't exist." Elliot said, using the same voice as usual.
Tyrell lowered his gun. "I exist."
"I'm the only one that exists."
"Elliot, listen to me—"
"It's time to finally take back control. Real control."
He looked away from Tyrell.
"ELLIOT!"
The cracked voice he didn't know he could have made Elliot stop in his movement.
"Please."
He took careful steps toward him and raised his hands. "I'm not going to shot you. I'm sorry. Forget everything I said."
Elliot frowned. "It's doesn't matter. I know you're not real. You can't hurt me."
"Please, Elliot, trust me." He was close now. Close enough. "I'm real," he took his hand in his own, the one not holding the gun. "I really don't understand what goes through your mind right now, but I'm here. With you. Please."
Elliot looked at their hands. The foreign touch confused him. "You can't stop me."
"You don't have to do this. We worked together on this. You said you needed to finish this. Please, try to remember."
"This isn't right."
"Elliot…"
Without a warning, Elliot managed to grab the gun from his hand and pointed it at Tyrell's head.
"Get out of my head."