Chapter Text
It wasn’t a fade, no. It was more of a jolt; a sudden sinking feeling in his chest that - in this state - could only remind him of the time he’d spent plummeting towards the ground in dreams he experienced too often to count. Likewise to those dreams, he wasn’t quite able to anticipate the ending in time so, when his head landed back against the damp green below, it hit hard and reverberated through his skull. Pain echoed like the toll of a church bell and took the place of the usual shock to his system. Laying still for a while,he shut his eyes tight to chase away the ache that had begun to run down his temples and pressure points on the bridge of his nose.
This was not normal. This was not home
Something was missing.
He squinted, groaning as he rolled over onto his back and tucked his face into the crook of his elbow. There was no way he was ready to face whatever new nightmare that his sleep was delivering to him this time. Though, when the ringing in his ears began to wane, bird song called out loud and real. That must be good right? He’d learnt recently that bird song meant safety. Maybe from a therapist… or a friend? He chased the thought but let it run to safety, into a corner of his mind he couldn’t reach.
Either way, the sound calmed him enough to bring him back around to the present again. As it cleared his senses he began to evaluate the situation before him. He already knew that he had fallen and hit his head - pretty hard at that. Maybe the window was open enough for him to hear the rustle of the leaves. Maybe the headache made the living room lights feel brighter against his eyelids. Maybe he’d spilt his drink on the way down - surely that was where the damp beneath his hand had come from.
With a spluttering cough, he dragged his arm from over his face and sunk his palm into a solid surface of something that wasn't carpet, nor any fabric at all. The birds called louder. It inspired enough of the little motivation in his bones to gather and force him upwards until his head hung over his bent and aching knees. The drumming of his heart working overtime and the crackle of his joints began to convince him that potentially, this was not a flashback or riddle like the ones so often brought to him in his sleep. This world was not delivered to him; it had been lying still, waiting for him to fall straight into its heart.
He jumped as a figure appeared, seemingly from thin air. It stood right in front of him with its boots planted firmly in the moss around a metre from his feet, watching him tilt his head up. As he startled, however, the combination of his already delayed reaction and the disconnection he felt from his body led to nearly no movement at all. He merely squinted, croaking out a pathetic whisper before clearing his throat.
“Can I help?” He mumbled, wiping his eyes and shielding them. He looked up, yet again squinting as the light from behind the figure assaulted his retinas.
It was a stupid thing to say really. He’d always been so aware of it - how impractical his reaction would be in a situation like this. This figure could be dangerous, he could be seconds from his death for all he knew and still his chosen greeting was one crafted from the closest thing to wit he could muster.
The figure, in turn, simply stared. Its eyes definitely recognised him as present, as something to witness, but didn’t acknowledge him much further. The man was young, barely an adult if one at all, but there was weathering along his skin - scars and frown lines and eyebags dark like bruises on an otherwise bright and youthful face. He raised his head, staring directly at the man below him sprawled on the floor. Slowly, almost regally, he uttered a single phrase.
“Welcome to Trench."
With that, it went dark.
Tyler jolted again with a sharp inhale. Just like his lungs expanding with oxygen, his mind was hit with a wave of memories. The ringing in his ears, paired with whispers of his name over and over, brought a bitter ache to his already bruising skull. With a glare, he sat up straighter, rather disliking the position he found himself in. This taunting lack of knowledge and comfort served only as a motive to regain his strength.
“To where?” As he coughed out, his body stuttered in and out of existence once more and his hands snapped up to clutch his head. Skin tingling like static, the buzz in his teeth started to taste exactly of how these glitches felt - sour and cold.
“You need to let go.” The figure stayed calm, crouching down and reaching out to Tyler.
He placed a grounding hand on his knee. Upon further inspection, this new acquaintance looked more than familiar, and while the comfort he brought Tyler seemed deliberate, it felt much deeper rooted in his soul than intended. No matter how grounded he was, however, it didn’t solve Tyler’s biggest issue. What was there to let go of? Slowly, he unclenched his hand and loosened his tight grip on the moss beneath him with an expectant stare. Maybe he’d get a reaction, an instruction. Anything that told him what to do.
Tyler’s world turned to nothing and for a split second he was, once again, trapped in the glitching void that chased him. This time it was worse, like a final goodbye from whatever was haunting his body. As he returned to this so-called Trench, his heart sank. The blood rushed through his system as if his organs were fleeing his body, still clinging onto that feeling of free falling. Doubling over and grasping his sides, Tyler choked, swearing under his breath.
“What do you want from me?” He forced the words between short gasps of air.
He was glaring again, painfully aware that it wouldn't be able to protect him from this nightmare in any way. His eyes studied the man’s, darting over his faded black shawl and messy cropped hair. It almost made Tyler laugh, the sight of the figure in front him. Somehow, before his very eyes stood a picture perfect rendition of the way he used to believe he looked. The messy hair, the weathered but young face, his eyes slightly wider than Tyler’s and smile more crooked. He was a mix of a compliment and an insult, the remnants of Tyler’s old delusions (both positive and negative) compiled into one appearance. He even bore the tattoos Tyler had once dreamed of.
This was ridiculous. Impossible even. So excruciatingly impossible that when Tyler lowered his head in delirium and pain, he was convinced the man would disappear. It almost startled him as he glanced back up and still was able to lay eyes on him. If this was a hallucination, it wasn’t going to be one he was allowed to ignore.
“I want you to let go, Tyler. Of the outside. You belong to Trench now, it has been decided.”
The man’s voice was calm, and had an almost paternal undertone to it despite his younger appearance.
Tyler knew deep in his bones that whatever this place, Trench, had created of this man had aged him greatly, especially in spirit. It unsettled him, a bemused expression tightening the already aching muscles in his face.
“Belong? Yeah? And who actually makes those decisions huh? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind explaining to me where the hell I am. Just a thought,” Tyler snapped, crossing his arms.
Despite his light-headedness, he managed to begin standing though his bones crackled loudly under the requests of more movement.
“There is no one left outside these walls. None left to answer your demands,” The man announced before standing up straight and turning on his heel. He began his walk down the path Tyler had found himself on prior.
He had to take a second, specifically to scoff and turn away. In that moment, Tyler ran his hands through his hair, deciding it was best to push for answers first and mock the absurdity of the scenario later. However, by the time his aching joints had turned him around to start following the man, he had vanished, not even footprints left in his wake.
This prompted another scoff and left Tyler to wander in circles, searching for his next point of action in this newly discovered land of Trench.
In the back of Josh’s mind, he always carried around a small amount of concern for Tyler. Mainly in the funny way, where he could laugh at the outlandish ideas his friend would produce, or roll his eyes at his almost painful need to publicly embarrass the both of them.
Tyler had always been extremely… Tyler. Every time Josh was sure he’d found a niche the two of them could fit into, he’d switch it up again just for the thrill of the change. Not that Josh minded of course. He’d learnt to chase that thrill too, despite the shroud of anxiety that always loomed around it.
Sometimes it was more serious - staying up late on phone calls to make sure he saw the morning; getting him up and out of bed when he wasn’t willing to move at all; making sure he smiled at least once a day. Either way, this concern didn’t stand out to Josh, nor did it bother him at all. From his perspective, he didn’t worry about Tyler, he just cared and that worry was part of the whole “I care about you” package.
This time, however, was different. He had never done whatever this was before. To give him some credit, Josh supposed, Tyler wasn’t a stranger to random spells of dissociation but a full shut down? This was new. The concerning type of new. The serious type of concerning type of new.
Snapping his fingers before Tyler’s eyes, Josh grabbed his shoulder and gently shook him with a worried squint.
“Hey. Hey man, are you okay?”
He tilted his head, free hand reaching to take Tyler’s drink before it was dropped or split. He didn’t fail to notice the slight shake in his friend’s hands either which seemed to stem from a lack of stability more than a sign of fear. For a split second, Josh almost got a response. Tyler’s face contorted into an expression of fear and confusion, the gasp that escaped him startling Josh more.
“Hey no. No wait, what? Come back? Trench? Where?” Tyler mumbled to himself between short breaths, his hands running through his hair. His eyebrows furrowed and eyes widened but, before Josh could push for any answers, that fearful expression had solidified onto a frozen, absent face with empty eyes boring into the coffee table.
“Trench? What’s Trench, Tyler, what do you mean?” Josh asked quietly, frowning.
He set Tyler's drink down on the coffee table and kicked his suitcase out of the way to move closer to his friend. Though tempted to call for Jenna, or literally anyone who could help, he didn’t want to abandon Tyler and figured that as long as he wasn’t dying or in pain, help could wait.
By the time he had come to this conclusion, Tyler had already begun to stir anyway, his eyes darting across the room in fuzzy confusion. The state Tyler had transitioned into now, Josh could fix easily. As of late, his friend’s memory had been getting worse, most likely due to the unhealthy amount of time he spent either daydreaming or dissociating. Grounding Tyler had become his second nature.
“Tyler. You hearing me?” He nudged his friend’s arm with his elbow, voice as soothing as he could make it. “We’ve been prepping for the tour, remember? Packing bags. Its about 5 pm and it… its a Monday” Josh said, checking his watch before resting his hand on Tyler’s knee.
He let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Tyler nod, albeit slowly.
“What…?” Tyler whispered through a heavy sigh. His eyes were wide as if he were in a state of shell shock. “Did I…” With a gulp, he waved his hands around his head. “Again?”
It was always slightly relieving to Josh, seeing Tyler be so Tyler about it all. The waving of his arms, the small uncertain squint as if he was trying not to show how clueless he obviously was. Even if he was in distress, it at least was comforting that he was present enough to be himself about it.
“Yeah” Josh laughed nervously with a nod. “Freaked me out a little, man. You were seriously gone this time. Like completely.”
Inhaling slowly, Josh forced himself to calm his racing heart and stop panicking. It took a good few minutes of silently packing clothes alongside Tyler before his heart rate came down, but he made sure to prevent his friend from noticing.
After a moment too long of unbroken silence, Josh decided to speak.
“Where did you go?” He asked quietly with a small playful smile.
His tone wasn’t entirely serious, Tyler knew that. It was something Josh always asked after catching him zone out. From what he remembered, it started as a joke, and never garnered any solid answers. Now it felt more like a force of habit.
“Pshht” Tyler exhaled slowly. He slumped backwards, a soft thud produced from where his back hit the couch. “Somewhere called Trench apparently.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes and shutting them fully. It felt wrong to say the word out loud, like he was betraying the man who gave it to him.
Tyler sounded fed up, more than anything. Sick of the games his mind played on him and sick of feeling out of control. If he was meant to “belong” to Trench, he should’ve at least been allowed to learn his way around first.
He stayed quiet, rubbing his hands over his face until the backs of his eyelids began to show bright colours and shapes. He couldn’t find the energy to feel concerned now, even if he could feel Josh’s worry burn his skin through that unrelenting stare.