Chapter Text
Tyler was standing off to the side somewhere, explaining his vision to the other creatives on the project. It was a concept Josh had heard a million times before. Clancy would be locked in a room, battling the physical manifestation of what was essentially depression. He’d lose the fight, all while the Torchbearer would be running to him, trying to get into the room and save him. It made Josh sick to his stomach to think about.
It was a great idea, a testament to Tyler’s creativity. But its similarity to real events… It was too much. Josh didn’t want to think about it. After it had happened, Josh had been left with nightmares and anxiety attacks for months as he tried to process everything.
Stop thinking about it. Shoot the scene. Go home and cry. Move on.
So Josh got into position, did exactly what he was told. He ran through the pretend streets, ignoring how his stomach dropped as he pounded on the first door, trying to breathe evenly as he broke through. There were others around him; he couldn’t let them see what was happening.
When they started to shift things around the set, Josh took his chance to run to the bathroom. Locking the door, he was overcome with emotion. All he could see were flashes of that night, the terror he’d felt as he broke every traffic law to get to Tyler’s apartment. How he’d gasped for breath as he sprinted up the stairs, how he’d gotten in the door with the spare key he’d swiped from Tyler’s desk when he’d started to worry.
Josh gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white. Hot tears were streaming down his face, desperate gasps rattling his chest.
“Tyler…” he whimpered, knowing the man was busy, filming or directing or who knows what.
Busy with things more important than Josh.
Eventually he managed to get his breathing under control, splashing cold water onto his face in an effort to appear more normal. The dirty mirror showed his puffy, bloodshot eyes, and flushed cheeks. Aside from that… Josh needed to get back out there. Someone was going to find out, and he would evaporate on the spot if that happened. Josh didn’t want to talk about it.
|-/
As Josh slammed his body against the prop door, he tried his very best to keep his face neutral. He was hyperaware of the cameras on him, almost certainly catching everything he was trying to hide. Everything was too much. Everything was moving too fast. He was stuck.
Josh couldn’t stop thinking about Tyler. Sure, he wasn’t actually behind the door, but there was a time when he was. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to get a grip on the situation. Tyler’s fine. He’s fine he’s fine he’s fine he’s-
“Tyler!” He knocked loudly on the door. “Come on, let me in.”
“Go away!” Tyler screamed back, voice rough and shaking.
“No! I’m not leaving. Open the door!”
“Sorry, Josh,” Tyler mumbled.
Josh was so helpless, standing here with his ear up to the door. He was completely at the mercy of whatever Tyler decided to do. If the voice in his head was loud enough, even Josh’s voice wouldn’t be able to drown it out.
“Tyler…”
Josh hadn’t meant for the man’s name to escape him. Luckily, it seemed like no one else noticed. At least, no one had called cut. There wouldn’t be any sound in this scene, it would be drowned out by the music. So surely no one would notice, right? He knew his breathing was messed up, knew he was probably having an anxiety attack. He couldn’t stop.
“Tyler!” Josh slammed his fist into the door again. “Tyler, open up! I’m serious!”
The only sound coming from inside the room was quiet sobbing and whispered apologies. Then it went quiet. Josh swore his heart stopped in that moment.
If he was too late…
He kept going, slamming into the fake wooden door with more force than necessary. Each time, it became harder and harder to get back up. All he wanted was to slump against the door and sob. Josh didn’t know how many times they wanted him to do this, didn’t know if anyone was even watching anymore.
He was losing it, drowning in memory.
“TYLER!” He threw his entire body weight against the door, feeling it fling open.
Josh landed roughly on the ground, instantly on his feet again and running to Tyler, hunched over in the corner of the room.
“Ty, hey, are you okay?” He dropped to his knees, hands gripping the man’s shoulders desperately. “Tyler? Talk to me.”
“‘M sorry,” he mumbled, voice completely monotone and hardly intelligible. He looked like a zombie.
Josh felt himself start to shake, terror filling his whole body until he could hardly stand anymore.
He gave up, dropping to his knees roughly on the replica stone they were using on set. Ragged gasps tore through his throat, the anxiety so visceral that he could no longer breathe.
His face was streaked with tears, and he was shivering in the cool evening. He hadn’t looked up, gaze still fixed on the floor in a dead-eyed stare. His trembling fingers were clutched tightly around a razor blade. An unopened bottle of sleeping pills sat beside him, alongside a stack of papers and a half-empty bottle of some kind of alcohol. If it weren’t for the situation, Josh could have admired the beauty of it all. The items laid out ritualistically around Tyler like he were some kind of saint, wrists red from where he’d clearly been rubbing at them.
God, Tyler, please, please-
“Hey, you okay?” Someone was touching his arm. He pulled away harshly.
'I’m fine, seriously! Just go away!” The hands retreated.
“Someone go get Tyler,” the voice called out.
“Tyler?”
Josh pried Tyler’s fingers open, carefully pulling the clean blade away from his delicate skin. He breathed a soft sigh of relief, pocketing the blade and wedging himself between Tyler and the wall.
“Sorry,” Tyler mumbled again, barely above a whisper. “‘M sorry.”
He tugged his best friend gently, letting Tyler curl desperately into him. He was still mumbling apologies over and over, like he was in shock. He probably was.
“Everyone take five, okay? Out, please.” A familiar, commanding voice rang out. Thank God for Mark.
“Josh?” He exhaled shakily, opening his eyes to see Tyler shoving people out of the way to run over and kneel in front of him.
He was still in the Clancy costume; they hadn’t yet switched him over to the Bishop’s robes. It was stupid, but in Josh’s mind it all felt so real. When he’d almost lost Tyler, there were no fancy costumes, but it all meant the same thing.
“Tyler. Hi.” He reached out, shaky hand grasping Tyler’s steady, ink-stained one.
“What’s going on? Anxiety?” He nodded. Before he knew it, he was wrapped in Tyler’s arms, pressed close to the man’s chest. His heartbeat was strong, grounding.
“‘M okay,” he mumbled. “S-sorry for messing up.”
“None of that. Wanna tell me what the problem is?”
No, he absolutely did not. He sniffled, savouring the feeling of his head on Tyler’s chest. Slow, deep breathing grounded him in the present.
“Stupid.” Josh shook his head aggressively. “So stupid.”
“We can talk later if you want.” Tyler was rubbing circles into the base of his neck. “Would you rather take a little break, or get it over with?”
“Get it over with,” he choked out. “You just gotta promise…”
“What?”
“Promise me it’s not real. I mean, tell me everything’s alright. Please.” God, Josh felt stupid. A grown man begging his best friend to tell him everything would be okay.
“Hey. I know you didn’t wanna talk about it, but… is it because of what this represents, like… mental health-wise?” Josh nodded sharply. “Alright. Josh, listen to me. Everything’s fine, I promise you. I know you worry about me, but this is just for the video, yeah? I’m doing fine. Nothing’s gonna happen, I promise.”
“Okay,” he whispered hollowly. He didn’t believe it.
“Okay.” Tyler’s voice was lighthearted and kind. “How about we go get you some water, then we can shoot the last couple of scenes for today? It’s mostly my stuff anyway, so you can watch me get thrown around and beat up. Might be nice to see, after everything I’ve put you through.”
“Yeah,” Josh forced himself to smile, and moved away from Tyler. “Thanks.”
“Are you alright?” He’d sobered instantly. “If you’re still feeling-“
“I’m fine. We’ve got a schedule. I’m good. I can do my scene. Then I-I’ll go to bed early tonight, and I’ll be fine tomorrow.”
Tyler was watching him cautiously.
“Okay. But anything at all comes up, you tell me. Immediately.”
“Got it.”
|-/
Josh sat off to the side, watching as they filmed Tyler fighting inside the room. The man who acted as Nico was a delightful man, they’d had plenty of lovely conversations, but right now Josh couldn’t stand to look at him.
Josh quietly excused himself to get some air, and no one even noticed he was leaving. The second he was outside, tears pricked his eyes. He was supposed to be okay, he was always supposed to be the strong one. But all he could feel was fear.
He paced around the parking lot for a bit, time moving unbearably slowly. He pressed his back to a wall, trying to ground himself. It never worked as well as Tyler’s arms did. Pathetically, Josh sank to the ground, curling up in the worn Torchbearer hoodie. He loved it, it was one of the most comfortable items of clothing he owned. Josh tried to breathe deeply, tugging the sleeves over his hands. He drew his knees close to him, and buried his head there. This was the safest he could be, alone in this parking lot.
When people started exiting the building, Josh became hyperaware of how he looked, curled up on the ground. Reluctantly, he dropped his knees away from his chest, tilting his head back just enough that he looked relaxed. He tried not to stare at every person filling the parking lot, he knew it was weird. Somehow, he didn’t see Tyler.
“Josh?” He whipped his head around, focus snapping to Tyler’s face. “Ready to leave?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Josh stood up, tripping over his feet a little, and brushing the sweat off his hands. “Let’s go.”