Chapter Nine – What It Comes Down To

Yeah, I owe every single one of you the biggest apology ever. Things have been crazy in my life, so I didn't have time at all to sit down and write this. And, I am also sorry to say, they haven't slowed down, either. Which means I had to condense the story as much as I could so I could just get this chapter out and finish this – originally, I'd planned ten chapters, but I'll have to settle for nine. I want you to know that I am incredibly proud of the story, I really enjoy it, and I am shocked by the feedback it got. I mean, 210 reviews and 20.000 hits with only eight chaps. So I can just thank everyone and I hope you like this! I might write another Tryan in the future, but I have to figure some things out first and then I can think of another story.

I also apologize if you find any plot holes – I didn't have time to go through the chapters all over again, just a really quick look – which means there is a chance I could've missed something, but hopefully not.

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Previously on "The Will To Try And Fight" …

The rain was still falling and the sky suddenly was dreary and gray: the lights of the hotel went off and, when they looked to their right, they saw three pale, dead bodies floating in the water, which was becoming increasingly red: the manager, a staff member and Troy's dad.

"NO!!!!!!" Troy screamed, desperate, running to his father's body.

A suitcase burst out of a window on the second floor of the hotel, slashing it to pieces: Sharpay was screaming for help and trying to run away.

"TROY! COME HERE! HE'S TRYING TO KILL SHARPAY!"

Ryan heard Sharpay hit the floor as she jumped out of the window and crawled in their direction, seriously hurt.

As Ryan ran to his sister and looked up to the broken window, he saw that there was no hooded figure standing there, but instead, what they saw was the bloody and pale face of Troy's uncle.

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"YOU!!!" Troy yelled as he ran in the direction of the hotel. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? WAS IT YOU ALL ALONG? YOU'RE UNCLE ANDREW!!!"

Troy's uncle said nothing. He stood, on the second floor, looking through the window. And then, in a fraction of a second, a half, evil smile, appeared on his face.
Sharpay was crawling on the ground, trying to get up.

"Ryan…go kill him…" she cried, looking up to see her brother holding her hand.

"Oh, shit, Sharpay. Your leg's broken." Ryan said, looking at Sharpay's twisted leg. It was all so confusing: he wanted to touch it and maybe magically heal it but touching it would put Sharpay in even more pain. He had to do something, and he didn't even know where to look.

When he looked to the right, however, he saw what wasn't supposed to be happening: Troy was running into the hotel and up the stairs.

"TROY! DO NOT GO UP THERE! GET DOWN HERE!"

Ryan looked at Sharpay then at the second floor and the broken window and imagined Troy halfway through the way to the bedroom.

"Sis, I am SO, SO sorry, but PLEASE hold on."

He ran as fast as he could and eventually caught up with Troy on the way – he jumped at him, throwing him to the floor. They glided a few feet away, crashing with a tud, already on the second floor, Ryan on top and Troy burning with hatred.

"Get off me, Ryan." Troy's voice wasn't at all subtle and kind now – Ryan didn't expect it to be. But he couldn't let Troy go into the room and make the biggest mistake of his life – get killed.

So, when Ryan was figuring out how to form a good reason why he shouldn't go in the room and just run away again, the door to the bedroom opened and Andrew stood there, holding a huge, bloody knife in his hands. Ryan couldn't see it properly and didn't have time to look at all, but he noticed that Andrew held the knife so tightly, gripping it almost so intensely as if all of his rage was being sent into it – he knew, at once, that this was no joke and they would not escape easily.

Troy got up and looked at his uncle. "Uncle, please, please don't do this." He was taking a few steps back as he said it, probably trying to gain some distance and then run away when he had the chance. "Why…why did you do this? Why did you kill my dad? Why are you chasing us?" Troy asked, almost in a plea, desperate to know why a member of his family was doing something so horrific.

And then Andrew spoke. But, to Ryan, it didn't sound like a person: it was more like "it" had spoken. His voice was so deep, raspy and low that it didn't sound like someone who had a soul at all.

"I kill to get to you."

No one understood anything.

Troy and Ryan continued taking a few steps back, but it wasn't really easy now: as soon as he spoke the word, their faint steps came to a halt.

"Homosexuals."

All they could hear was the dead silence for a few seconds – heavy and cruel and it was like time had stopped. But then it was gone.

"In MY house. Sin in MY house."

Troy's uncle's eyes were bloodshot and his hand could break the knife in two anytime now. And, suddenly, he changed. His eyes now left it pretty obvious of what Andrew suffered from – he was obviously crazy.

"That is…against what the Bible tells me is right. You are sinners, and sinners shall die. For He has the power to judge everyone and you two have gone too far."

Then, he changed again: he held the knife so tightly and lifted it up, breathed heavily, and in a scream started to run in their direction.

Ryan and Troy ran down the stairs again, panicked and tripping and also looking for something to fight back with. They ran and ran and Andrew was catching up, screaming:

"SINNER'S BLOOD! ALL OVER ME!"

Ryan saw two cars arriving outside, and people running out of them: he could hear Sharpay screaming for help just when Troy decided he had to fight back. He grabbed a chair from the corridor and, with all his strength made it collide intensely into Andrew's face. Andrew instantly fell to the ground, nose broken and bleeding.

Ryan opened the door of the hotel and got out.

"Troy!" Ryan yelled. "The police is here!"

Troy didn't even listen. He took the chair again and hit his uncle as hard as he could with it, several, multiple times.

"YOU KILLED MY FATHER!"

Troy continued hitting him and his face was entirely disfigured now - skin ripped off and teeth falling out – but Troy didn't even care. He was still alive, and he would beat him up until there wasn't a heartbeat left in the maniac.

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"You know he was a born-again Christian. And addicted to it. My uncle used to be gay – but then he decided that his "illness" had to stop." Troy explained to Ryan while they were in the police car, heading to the station.

"It kind of makes sense now." Troy continued. "How it was him standing in the bedroom that night. And how he knew where we were, or lived. I never realized he was insane. He seemed so normal."

Troy lay his head on Ryan's shoulder, and then it was time for Ryan to speak: "You know, the people who we never suspect are usually the ones who are behind it all."

"So that serial killer, fifty miles away from the farm, had nothing to do with this?" Troy asked.

"I guess not. There's always killers on the loose, Troy." Ryan answered.

Silence now caressed them for a few seconds – it was good, to lay there, feel each other's body heat. It was good to allow their hearts to breathe after so many days of havoc.

"Did you kill him?" Ryan asked.

"No. But I gave him what he deserved. He'll never get out of prison. You saw my mom, she's devastated. My dad, Ry…my dad…he's…"

"Shh, come here. Oh, Troy, we'll have to heal that scar in your heart. I'll make the pain go away." Ryan said, and he wasn't sure if words were enough, so he took his chances and raised Troy's chin with his hand, lifting his boyfriend's face: then he placed the most gentle yet comforting kiss he could ever give to his lover.

They hadn't asked for anything that had happened. But life was like that. Dark days would always be there, ready to rip the heart out of everyone, suck the life out of someone, the energy. Like poison.

But there were the good days.

Days where they would be able, now, knowing this was over, to sit in a bed and watch movies together – cuddling up, all warm and fuzzy inside. Now they'd be able to teach each other things: Calculus, where it all started. The tutor center. Basketball.

They'd now be able to actually hold each other's hands so tight, but representing a state of grace, not panic. They didn't have to hold their hands to run away anymore.

"You think we're sinners?" Troy asked. "Like he said."

Ryan thought for a few seconds, and then answered.

"I don't think I am. And you're not, either. Hell, if love is a sin, then send us to Hell right now."

"Yeah." Troy agreed.

"And we'll fuck a lot, there, too."

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Author's Note: There's an optional, extremely intense sex scene to really end this fic on a good note – but, obviously, I cannot post it here. To anyone who wants it, send me an email and I'll send it to everyone in a few days: tomoyocaptor at hotmail . com

I'd also like to say that "The Will To Try And Fight" is just a fun fic. It's not supposed to be taken seriously, 'cause I don't own any characters and I didn't want to write anything really scary or too politically correct.

I will post an Epilogue when I have more free time. I will explain there what happened to Troy, Ryan, Sharpay and all the characters after a few months.

DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW IF YOU LIKED THE STORY!

But yeah, it's not really over yet.