Archive of Our Own ^beta

Josh was a wanderer by nature. He always had been, and it was an important attribute to have as a Bandito. He never stayed in one place for too long, eager to move and see new things, to meet new people, to do something that wasn’t stationary. After he became the Torchbearer, the longest he ever let the Banditos stay in one place was two months. Part of his reasoning had been survival, but Josh was restless; he needed to move. 

Josh was a wanderer, but he had been thirty minutes from Dema’s walls for four months now. The remaining Banditos would come up to him at least once every few days to ask when they were moving, but his answer was always the same: it isn’t time. 

“Torch. Torchbearer. Joshua.” Mark’s voice snapped him out of his daze. It had been four months, a week, and three days since the final battle in Dema, since they’d lost, and Josh had spent the day in his tent with his pile of maps. He’d been in there since morning and the sky was dark behind Mark’s head. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Josh shoved a map of Dema to the side and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“Your scouts are back, I thought you would like to know.” Mark motioned outside. “And you need to eat. Come on.”

In his stationary solitude, Josh often forgot to eat and sleep. He knew he looked like shit; his hair had grown unruly and he desperately needed to shave. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually bathed, but Debby would probably say something to him about it. He begrudgingly followed Mark out to the large campfire and sat down next to Jenna. “Anything?”

“We checked all of the normal places that escapees usually go, but there was nothing.” Jenna shrugged. “No sign of a new Clancy either, there hasn’t even been any whispers from inside Dema.”

“Actually, all the news from inside the walls is… good.” Chris piped up, spoon halfway to his mouth. Someone had handed Josh a bowl of stew, but he couldn’t remember who. “They’re tearing down the neon gravestones and replacing them with stone ones, with names and dates and shit. Services are still going on, but they aren’t mandatory anymore and people are actually encouraged to express themselves. There’s color, dude. It’s weird, maybe Clancy is-”

“That’s not Clancy,” Josh muttered. “You know that.”

“Yeah, I know, but maybe he’s-”

“We’ll go out again tomorrow.” Josh put his untouched bowl to the side and stood. “In the meantime, I’ll use my powers and scout tonight. People usually sneak out at night.”

“The gates are open.” Debby’s voice cut through the crowd and everyone went silent. “They’ve been open for a month, Torch. We’ve been trying to tell you.” She came up close to him, hands on her hips. “People aren’t escaping because they don’t feel like they need to. The new bishops aren’t actively encouraging vialism.”

Josh stared at her, eyes wide. He knew what his role was in Trench: to guide people away from Dema and help destroy the bishops and their fucked-up religion. It had been his destiny, written in the stars or something since the day he was born. Josh was always meant to escape Dema, to find the Banditos, and to become their leader. He was always meant to search out Clancy and point him in the right direction, no matter how many times that Clancy failed. It was his purpose, his role, and nothing had ever changed. 

Their battle four months ago had just solidified that in his mind. Josh would try, fail, and then try again. Try, fail, try again. There was no other purpose, which meant that Dema’s only purpose was to be evil and vile. Who was he if he didn’t have his purpose, and what was Dema without the bishops and vialism? “We will go back out tomorrow.” Josh replied slowly, staring Debby right in the eye. “End of discussion.” 

It had been tense in the Bandito camp for the past four months and Josh knew he was part of the problem. He refused to entertain any discussion of the battle and what had happened, a point that Debby continued to remind him of. He’d largely retreated from his leadership role after they finished the funerals for their fallen brethren, more than happy to let Mark, Debby, and Jenna run the day-to-day things in his absence. Despite her general aversion to his recent lack of dedication, Debby still nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to go back to his tent. Josh was perfectly happy to go back to his maps and try to figure out a plan, anything to keep his mind off of him. 

“Josh?” The sun was just starting to rise when Jenna peeked her head into his tent. “Got a minute?”

“I guess.” His eyes were starting to get tired. Josh put down his map and gave her his attention.

“You need to go to Dema.”

“No.”

“Josh.” Jenna groaned and sat down on the edge of his cot. “You have been miserable for four months. Just go see him.”

“No.”

“You know you want to.” She crossed her arms, eyebrows raised. “It’s eating you up and, quite frankly, turning you into an asshole. Go into Dema, march up to him, and ask him all your questions.”

“I don’t have questions.” Josh muttered. 

“Yes, you do.”

“Jenna, he couldn’t even look me in the fucking eye!” Josh snapped. “We failed, I failed, and now we just have to move on and find the next Clancy. That’s not him up there anymore and we all have to accept it.”

“He might not be Clancy anymore, but he’s still Tyler.”

Tyler. It was the first time Josh had heard his true name since the battle. He had been the only one to really use Clancy’s real name and it hit him like a bullet. He tucked his hands into his sleeves and tried to fight back tears. “Jenna, I can’t see him like that.” 

She moved over to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You are never going to be able to move on and do your part until you confront this, you know that. Ask him what happened. He’ll talk to you.” Jenna squeezed his arm and Josh nearly burst into tears. She was always so patient with him. “Go tomorrow night. I’ll cover for you, and so will Debby and Mark.” 

Josh spent the rest of the day in his tent, pouring over maps and scouring Trench with his ability. No one bothered him; most of the Banditos would steer clear after they’d seen his mood at the fire. No one really talked to him anymore. He tried to sleep right before the sun went down, but his brain wouldn’t shut up. All he could see was red cloaks and yellow eyes. No, brown eyes. Brown eyes that turned amber in the torchlight. 

He dressed and packed quietly, ignoring the noise of sleepy Banditos outside. Josh never needed much in his pack; an extra pair of socks, his canteen, a few rations depending on how long the journey was. This time, Josh added an extra set of clothes, his maps, and a stack of letters. His letters. He tossed a roll of yellow tape on top for good measure. Once the noise had died down, he grabbed his unlit torch and ventured out into the darkness. 

Josh had always loved how Trench looked in torchlight, the landscape flickering under the soft warmth of the fire that he held so close to his heart. His feet followed a familiar path, the dirt soft and damp under his feet. His torch lit the way, Dema’s towers already glowing in the darkness ahead. A bit dimmer, but still there. He walked in silence, trying to figure out what to say when he got to the top of the tower. What do you say to someone after you failed them? What do you say to that person after you feel like they failed you? 

The gates were open and unguarded, but Josh knew that there were eyes everywhere and made his way towards the tunnels. He didn’t feel comfortable walking into the city like he belonged there, because he didn’t. Dema hadn’t been his home in a long time. The cold damp stone just made him feel trapped, like the tunnel walls were caving in on him. Dema made him claustrophobic in a way he hadn’t been since he was a child. When he emerged from the tunnels, the sun was just starting to rise, and Josh was surprised at how bright it was inside the city. All of his memories were of foggy skies and cloudy days. 

The tower, Nico’s tower, lay down the road in front of him, directly in the middle of the city. It was the tallest of the nine structures, giving off an air of authority that Nico had reveled in. Josh wasn’t sure if Ty-Clancy felt the same; he hoped he didn’t. As Josh approached, he was surprised to see that the door was cracked open, as if they knew he was coming. He looked up, expecting to see vultures overhead, but the sky was empty. The streets were empty too, the citizens of Dema still sleeping. Like he should be. Josh gently eased the door open and started up the stairs.

He moved up on autopilot, his feet propelling him towards the chamber at the top. He knew that there was another room connected to it, a way for the residing Bishop to live and work in the same place. The door was still cracked in the middle from when he’d kicked it open, also left slightly ajar. Josh took a deep breath and pushed inside. 

The room was bare, all of the drapes and curtains removed from the walls and windows. The neon lights had been disposed of as well, leaving only gray stone behind. It looked abandoned. A single door sat slightly open on the other side of the room and Josh knew that’s where he needed to go. He set his torch down, the flame already gone, and crossed to the doorway. 

“Just leave the message outside, I’ll look at it in a little bit.” The familiar voice cut through Josh like a knife, his footsteps faltering on the threshold. Tyler was sitting at a small wooden desk, hunched over a journal. He wasn’t wearing red, but he looked so unfamiliar in the gray room. 

“I’m not a messenger.” Josh croaked as he stepped inside. Tyler’s hand went still and he slowly straightened. 

“Oh. I suppose you aren’t.” His voice was steady as he turned to face Josh. “What are you doing here, Torchbearer?”

“I…” Josh couldn’t get his mouth to form the right words as he stared at the black paint. It was faded, not as bold as it had been four months ago, but it was still a stain spreading from Tyler’s bottom lip. Tyler raised a hand to his mouth like he knew what Josh was staring at. “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay.” Tyler’s eyes, still their familiar brown, focused on Josh’s chest. “Then speak.”

“Look at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

Anger bloomed in Josh’s chest like fire. “Dammit, Tyler! Look me in the eye!” He barked. Tyler didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t do anything. He just kept staring at Josh’s chest. “Or do you only answer to Bishop? Blurryface, maybe?”

“That’s not my name.” Tyler snapped. “Blurryface is gone. You know that, Torchbearer, you were there.”

“Quit calling me that.” Josh took a step forward. “And yeah, I was there, but I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“We lost.” Tyler sounded small, his fingers twisting in the fabric of his loose black pants. “I lost, so I did what I had to do, what little I could do, to achieve the best outcome.”

“So you became a bishop.”

“Yes.” Tyler stood and began pacing back and forth. “It was the only way to still help people, to defeat Nico. I told you that once, remember? In a letter.” His voice was still flat, like his words meant nothing to him. 

“Tyler, please look at me.” Josh stepped forward again. Tyler had always been a good liar, but he’d never been able to hide anything from Josh. He’d always been able to see the truth in Tyler’s eyes, in the emotion that he kept barely hidden under the surface. It used to be easy to figure out what Tyler was thinking, but now it was impossible. “Tyler?”

“I have a new name.” His voice was still firm, but his hands were shaking. “I’m not Clancy and I’m certainly not Tyler.” He tipped his head up, but not enough to make eye contact. “I haven’t been Tyler in a long time.” 

Josh did know his new name: Nova. Whispers of the Nova Bishop had emerged from Dema about a week after the battle. He’d tried his very best to ignore it. “No… I guess you haven’t.” Josh thought of the clothes in his bag and shoved his hands in his pockets. He’d brought them with the hope that Tyler would take them, but it seemed stupid now. “So what now? Are we just locked in an endless battle again until I bring the next Clancy to you?”

“I suppose.” Tyler shrugged. “It’s your job.”

Images of empty red cloaks and blood oozing from red tape flashed through Josh’s mind, the empty look in Tyler’s eyes standing out clearest of all. “NO!” He roared, lunging forward and shoving his hands into Tyler’s chest. Tyler fell back into his desk, his whole body collapsing in as he raised his hands to shield himself. “How can you ask me to do that, to come back and watch you die?!” 

“Torch-”

“No!” Josh knew he was crying, but he didn’t care. He slammed his fist into Tyler’s chest again, right on top of his tattoo. “After everything we went through, after those six long years without you, you expect me just to give up?! Tyler, I can’t… I can’t do that again.”

“I handed you an invitation and you didn’t take it!” Tyler finally shoved back, his eyes wide and full of anger. “You could’ve taken the cloak and you could’ve stayed!”

“I can’t be a bishop, you know that.” Josh motioned to the red cloak discarded on the floor in the corner of the room. “I am the Torchbearer or I am nothing, that’s the way it’s always been.” 

“I wanted you to stay,” Tyler muttered. He glanced over at the cloak as well and his face went dark. “I needed you. I still need you.” 

“Ty…” Josh reached for him, but Tyler flinched away. “Ty, look at me.” 

“I’ve been waiting for you for four months, walking the walls every day just to catch a glimpse of your camp. I keep the gates open hoping that you’ll walk through them. I encourage everyone to be creative and free because I know that’s what you wanted. I am trying so fucking hard to be better.” Tyler took a deep breath and finally met Josh’s gaze, his eyes filling with tears as they stared at each other. “I wonder every day when I’ll stop being able to see yellow.” 

“Tyler, I-”

“And now here you are and I can still see you.” Tyler huffed out a sad laugh. “And yet this feels so broken and I am so a-alone.” His eyes filled with tears as he reached for the yellow lines on Josh’s sweatshirt. “What will we become now, Torch? What will happen when I can no longer see you, except in my dreams?”

Fuck it. Josh leaned forward and gathered Tyler into his arms, pulling him as close as he could. Tyler melted into him immediately, his face pressed into the crook of Josh’s neck. “We were supposed to burn it all down. You and I, leading everyone to a better life.”

“We still can.” Tyler pulled back just enough to lock eyes with him. “It’ll just have to be as Bishop and Torchbearer until you find the next Clancy.”

The idea of leading people to overthrow and kill Tyler made Josh nauseous. He cautiously raised his hand to Tyler’s hair and ran his fingers across the soft buzzcut. Tyler tightened his grip on Josh’s waist and let out a content hum. His veins were buzzing at Tyler’s touch, just like they had the first time he’d held Tyler close. If there was one thing he’d regret for the rest of his life, it would be hiding his feelings for so long, long enough for it to be too late. “That’ll be the worst day of my life.”

“I know.” Tyler pressed his forehead against Josh’s collarbone, breathing slowly as Josh brushed his nails over his scalp. “I wish it could’ve been different, I wish…” He pulled back again, a strange look in his eyes. “Josh, I… there’s so much I want to say, but…” Tyler took a deep breath and brushed his hand over Josh’s cheek. The feeling of his newly dark hands should’ve disgusted Josh, but it only made his heart race. He used to have nightmares about getting smeared, about feeling a bishop’s cold hands on his neck, but he just wanted Tyler to keep touching him. “Fuck.” Tyler hissed and surged up to connect their lips. 

It felt like his heart was going to explode. Tyler’s lips were cold but sure, his hands moving to grab the neck of Josh’s hoodie with easy confidence. Maybe Tyler had dreamt about this moment too, waking up in a cold sweat when he realized that it would probably never happen. Josh moved Tyler backwards until he was pressed against his desk again, his fingers looped in the waistband of his black pants. Tyler’s skin was so cold, so different from how it had felt back at camp. Josh wanted to consume him, to kiss and touch him until he felt warm again. Tyler parted his lips and Josh deepened the kiss, licking into his mouth with an eager groan. He was greedy, wanting, starving and unable to survive without eating his fill. 

“Stay.” Tyler whimpered against his mouth, his fingernails digging into Josh’s skin. 

“I can’t.” Josh nearly sobbed, lifting Tyler onto the desk and moving between his legs. Tyler wrapped his legs around Josh’s waist and began pressing kisses along his jawline. “Ty, I can’t.”

“I know.” Tyler sighed, his breath warm on Josh’s neck. “I just… I’ve wanted this for so long.” 

“Me too.” Josh ran his fingers over Tyler’s neck, trying to smudge the paint. “I should’ve kissed you a long time ago.” 

Tyler smiled and ran his thumb over Josh’s bottom lip. “I got paint on you.”

“Really?” Sure enough, the paint on Tyler’s lip was lighter than the rest. Josh leaned forward and kissed him again. “I’ll just have to come back and keep kissing you then. Maybe then it will all go away.”

Tyler hummed against his mouth as he slid his hands down Josh’s chest. “So you’ll come back?”

Josh pulled back and smiled sadly. “Of course I will.” 

They stood like that for a while, intertwined in each other as the sun rose and the city awoke beneath them. They barely spoke, just exchanging sad words and soft kisses until finally Tyler raised a gentle hand and pushed him back. “Josh, I have to go.”

“No, wait.” Josh stepped back and watched as Tyler crossed the room and pulled on the red cloak. “It can’t be time already.”

“I have obligations, as do you.” Tyler raised the hood and his face became blank once more, his eyes trained on the floor. “It’s already too late for us to be anything more than Bishop and Torchbearer.” The corner of his mouth quivered with a sad smile. “I’ll see you soon, right?” 

“When do you want me to come back?” Josh grabbed his bag. “We aren’t far from the walls, I can-”

“Next week, same time?” Tyler slid a few papers into his robe and motioned to the door. “Please?”

“Yeah.” Josh grabbed Tyler by his robes and kissed him one last time. “I… I love you, Ty. I always will, even when you can’t see me anymore.” 

“I love you too.” Tyler smiled big enough for Josh to see his crooked bottom teeth. “Now go, I’ll see you soon.” 

***

THREE MONTHS LATER…

“Torch!” Jenna rushed into his tent with a wad of papers. “They found him!”

“What?” Josh had just gotten back from Dema barely an hour before. As time had passed, he’d finally decided to move the Banditos further from the city. His walk had gone from thirty minutes to nearly two hours, but he couldn’t afford to be selfish; his tentative relationship with Tyler was on borrowed time. 

Tyler had been acting strange during his most recent visit. He was quieter, more reserved than he usually was while Josh had been there. He’d kept scratching at his neck like the paint was irritating him and he talked to himself, muttering under his breath while Josh had pretended to be asleep. He’d barely said anything when Josh left and it had bothered him the entire journey home.

“The new Clancy!” Jenna was practically vibrating. “These letters just came out of Dema. Mark got a copy from one of our spies last night. 

Last night. Josh had been in Tyler’s bed last night. He slowly got up from his cot and took the letters from Jenna, unfolding them with shaking hands. 

“He keeps warning us about the people outside the walls, the Banditos, but we remember where he came from. Nova lies to us all with his flowery words and pretty music, but I won’t listen. I can’t listen. There’s more to this world than Dema, and I will see it.” 

“I saw a Bandito the other night. He had a torch and was walking towards the center of the city. It was strange to see all that yellow. According to legend, the Bishops can’t see yellow.”

“Bishop Nova agreed to take me outside the walls. He said that it would take a few days, but it was surprisingly easy to get him to agree. It was almost like he knew I would ask.” 

Josh felt like he was going to throw up. Tyler knew the entire time he’d been with Josh. He knew that the cycle had started all over again and hadn’t said anything. He glanced up at Jenna, her face blurry through the tears in his eyes. “I… I guess we have to go find him.” 

Jenna nodded. “I’ll get everyone gathered.” 

Josh looked down at the letters and then over at his cot. The Clancy mask sat discarded next to his pillow, a constant reminder of what he had loved and lost. He knew he would see Tyler again on the road leading out of Dema, but this time he would be in the driver’s seat, leading the next Clancy right into Josh’s arms. The eyes of his lover would become cold underneath the hood, staring at him like he was a monster. Josh carefully pressed the mask against his face and screamed. 

He once told Tyler that they would always find each other, but the pain was almost too much.