A Touch of Courage (Troyler AU)

Chapter 13: For You I Will

"I love you the more in that I believe you had liked me for my own sake and for nothing else." 

― John Keats

Troye's POV

Somewhere in the depths of his dream, someone was playing the piano. The notes were faint, but with each quiet step down the hallway, Troye could hear more. The driving tempo, the growing intensity, the way something so beautiful could almost sound threatening—Lux Aeterna. 

 Troye shivered. He hated this song, but James had always loved it, had always begged him to play it for him.

The music washed over him and Troye felt his steps falter. A ribbon of unease constricted his chest.

He could see no one around, but there was a nagging feeling that he was being watched and the weight of scrutiny prickled his skin.

The music swelled, grew louder, more sinister, and he pressed his hands to his ears, his stomach churning, before the piece cut off abruptly. The notes faded, and from somewhere close by, someone whispered his name. Troye spun around.

"James...?"

He descended down a flight of stairs into another hallway, peering around him at the endless rows of closed doors. The hallway behind him stretched long and empty with only the faintly moving shadow at the far end disrupting the stillness.

He walked slowly towards the shadow, fingers ghosting against the wall beside him as he moved. He paused when he felt grooves on the wall and dragged his eyes away from the shadow to look, staring at the inscribed words underneath his fingertips.

"Here lies one whose name was writ on water." 

Troye stared and the words caused fear to swell inexplicable through him. He looked back down the hall and had a sinking feeling that the shadow was not James.

The shadow started to detach itself from the darkness and a sharp spike of fear cut through him. The darkness encroached closer and his heart gave a sickening lurch before starting again, beating in frenzied terror. It thumped with such violence that he thought the muscles might rip apart in his chest. The shadow moved forward, but before it escaped its veil, the whispering returned and Troye opened his eyes.

The sheets had been pulled away from the mattress, which was damp with sweat. Troye lay on his back, chest heaving as he stared at the ceiling.

He stared at the bright light of morning, but a sense of relief never came. He sat up slowly, body protesting the movement as he continued to breathe quickly. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to get his breaths back under control.

"Okay," Troye whispered. "Okay."

Even as he said the words, the room seemed to press in on him and stability did not return immediately. It was hard to believe he was fully awake when everything still had a surreal quality to it. He blinked blearily and told himself firmly that the shadows in the room were not the same shadows that had been in his dream. The hallway from his dream did not match any he had seen here. He was at St. Anthony's, not trapped in a waking dream where he thought he was conscious but was in fact lost amid memories of being locked away somewhere he couldn't escape.

He was present in the real world and all he had to do was turn his head and Caspar would be a few feet away-

Troye inhaled sharply and felt his heart lurch when he saw an empty bed. After a moment of disorienting confusion, he forced himself to think rationally. Caspar had just obviously left already, or he had never returned at all.