-Skylox One-Shots-

((I suggest listening to Comatose by Skillet. I'm listening to it while writing and man the feels.))

-Ty's POV-

SPLASH

My eyes were closed tightly, the warm summer wind brushing past my hair and shuffling it all about. My fingers tingled in the wet water, sending shivers up my body, along with the air that seemed to crawl up my body like a spider.

I didn't dare open my eyes, for the world out there was so much more terrifying than the world I had inside my own eyes. The shapes and figures that danced, created by my imagination.

In the real world, people were much more cruel. They beat you and murdered you, taking your feelings and twisting them around as if they were string. They tied them into knots, watching as you slowly went insane.

Watching as you felt lost.

I didn't ask for the life I have, nor did I perform anything to deserve it. I simply received this without any consent or idea into my opinion. I had to agree to it and move on.

For I did NOT kill him.

"Ty?" A voice pulled me back, but I simply closed my eyes further. I didn't want to accept the voice that tried to pull me back ; I didn't want to listen to it or give into its wishes, even if it belonged to the one person who is classified as my...'kryptonite', I suppose.

"Ty." The voice repeated, and I felt the brushing of his leather, black glove tickling my cheek. As if tempting me out, my eyes fluttered, and I reached out, clutching the seat a little tighter.

"I understand if you want to keep your eyes closed." He whispered.

This is what confused me, deep inside, I didn't understand. He was so cruel and heartless to everyone else ; I've seen him bash innocent peoples heads in, taking a pistol to their brains and pulling it without a hint of hesitation in his eyes.

However, this was different. He wasn't cruel to me. He cradled me like I was precious china ; something that couldn't be dropped, or it would smash into thousands of pieces. We were lost, lost in the cool summer wind that rushed around us like sakura petals.

I felt a soft swishing of the water as he dipped his covered fingers into the water, taking my wrist gently and pulling out my hand, causing the cool water to drip down and past my fingertips. He placed it on the cloth next to our station, pulling it over and pressing it to it.

"Ty," he repeated. "How have they been."

The innocent question. The question he asks when he knew that I was on my brink. When all I did in that god damned room was claw at my hair, hold my face in my hands, close my eyes and pray to wake up. But none of it is a dream. It's all my twisted reality.

Twisted. Just like my feelings. Looped and entwined, constantly leading me down different paths and roads, confusing me and causing me to claw harder.

I don't want to be here. I want to be home. I want him to be there. But dreams don't come true. None of it is a dream.

The water, now free from my hand, let out a soft splashing sound as he lifted up the cup without any delicacy or care ; the exact opposite that he handled me.

Why did he do that? Why did he twist my feelings into an even tighter knot, like a bow on my heart, going tighter, tighter and tighter until...

Pop.

"I have to go soon." The sinful words tumbled off my lips like a droplet from a rose, hitting the water with a mammoth splash. Silence filled the soft cabin, the wind being my only silent friend.

"I know." His reply came from far away, the shuffling and moving of his body. I clenched my hands a little tighter as the feelings washed over my body once more, a tide washing over a shore and whisking all happy thoughts away, leaving behind the raw and wet sand.

I'm going to be locked in that room again, they're going to click that lock shut, like the echoing of my insanity rumbling through my head. I reached up my hands, clutching my strands of hair in between my boney fingers and squeezing as tightly as possible.

"Ty." With the simple saying of my goddamned name, the same name that appeared in so many magazines, with the people raging and screaming over it, cults being created against me, people raising pitchforks and using them to tie the knot further, my eyes snapped open.

I glanced around the small cabin, cramped and narrow, just like the 'home' I have back there, just like the small amount of sanity I have left.

Except this was different. This cabin was homey and warm, reminding me of my vast childhood and play times with my brother, back when my brain was in tact and still functioning properly.

There was a fire in the far corner, flickering and dancing, creating pictures and pieces of artwork that no one would even recall or remember, lost, along with the wind blowing through the cabin.

Paintings hung, charred and smoked from the fire that happened here just months ago, right before...

"Ty," the voice said once more, and I looked up, up at the sky and heavens, just to see him standing there like an angel. He was dressed in his uniform, the black clothing covering every inch of him, making him look like a dark cloud, about to fade as soon as you reached out to press your skin against it.

His hand rested on his side, eyes narrow as he stared at me, though filled with love, the same love he never showed with anyone else. The opposite of the look he gave those men before he raised his boot, smashing their heads in and watching in satisfaction as they crumbled to the ground in a heap.

That sick, disgusting look of pleasure that would fill any warrior, mother or child with fear from head to toe, staggering before becoming immobile.

He bent down, slowly reaching out with seemingly shaking fingers and an uncharacteristic nervousness radiating off him like heat from a boiling pot. He fingers brushed past my ears, causing them to blaze red and fill me from head to toe with...

Not fear.

But the same nervousness his eyes shook with, as if they were cracking under the force of a heart-rendering earthquake.

He had my head in between his hands, eyes locked, just the loud, shattering lock of that room, while I was lost in a hell, clawing until I drew a sticky, red substance.

"Your closer..." He whispered, worry showing in his eyes for some strange, unknown and terrifying reason. He never showed emotions, he refused to, for he and I both believed it would make a person be built stronger, bracing our shoulders and letting the meteors hit without so much as a whimper.

That's why no one knew.

"Your so much closer to the edge." His fingers let the side of my head, my skin screaming and screeching in need for his cold touch, the blood not quite reaching his fingertips, but having the ability just the same to inflame my entire face.

It wasn't love ; it couldn't be. I must brace my shoulders and allow the meteors to land where they may, but I may not, under any circumstance, let out a whimper.

"Adam..." His name came falling out, another large raindrop in a sea of words, unable to be seen by anyone other than the owning. It was my personal body of water, the one I went swimming in when I had nothing else to do.

However, this lake was infested, with beings such as sharks, fish and water snakes, all biting at me and leaving venomous marks, wanting it to burn as much as possible.

"Ty," he repeated for the third time, looking at me with trustworthy, yet breaking eyes, like with just that one look he both healed my soul and broke it into one million pieces, making it impossible to glue back together again and function once more.

"You have to get back. I'll take you." He looked so regretful, like the words he was letting his mouth curve and craft were his own poison, sinking into his heart and letting it spread to his nerves and organs, leaving his entire body for the dead.

"Okay." I spoke very softly, keeping my head down so he couldn't detect any traits or traces of emotions in my sparkling brown orbs, seas of a polluted water drowning in the trash of insanity.

"Back to hell, then?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh wow. He's still in there. For once, he didn't sneak off." The police guard shown his sun into my cell, watching in amusement as I darted away, like a vampire from the light.

"He's an insane one, that's for sure." His buddy chuckled mercilessly, like my sanity was a joke, just the feelings that they took so much joy in twisting and turning, flipping like a simple pancake on a stove.

But they let me burn too easy.

"I heard that-" their stupid, goddamned voices faded into the background as they walked down the hall, away from my cell and into the rest of the prison, filled with people who were much more poison-hearted than I.

For I did NOT kill him.

I reached up slowly, my skin brushing against the rest, making small skin particles drift into the still air in my cell and swish around for a while before landing peacefully, only to be ripped up once more. They could never be at rest, I suppose.

Grabbing onto my soft, thin strands of chocolate, hot-coco hair, I squeezed it between my fingertips, clawing and scratching at my head, just like a dog clawing and scratching at a door to get back in.

I needed to retrieve my sanity.

"HEY." Screamed a sudden voice. Blood dripped down my face, sliding down my cheek and letting go of my skin, hitting the floor to create a replica of my sea of words, a small puddle worth nothing.

I must've looked as insane as I feel, the twisted feelings giving another sharp knot, like a woman tightening her corset, pulling once more at her stomach to see how much it could withstand and hold.

"Tyler Collins." He spat my name with such venom, filled from head to toe, just the snake coiling slyly upon the surface in my body of water, biting and nipping at my skin in order to draw blood. But they were surprised by the roughness and hard, turtle-like shell I had built for myself, putting up a shield in order to keep any unwanted's out.

"I would be sorry, dude." He spoke with no hesitation, no love or comfort, like Adam held in this eyes whenever he spoke to me, like a father cradling his precious baby for the first time, for he knew that if he dropped it, it would be the end.

This man held the opposite, ready to smash everything like it was china and watch the shards bounce on the floor, cutting into the carpet like it was flesh, drawing out a red liquid in a sweet, bitter and painful return.

"But you've obviously gone off the deep end." His hand clasped onto my arm, grabbing the skin and squeezing into the flesh until it turned an unhealthy shade of red and paleness, making me bite my tongue to keep in the gasp of pain he brought out with his grip.

Put up your shield. Emotions are not allowed. That's the only thing I can do to make myself remember the sacred fact that must stay intact.

For I did NOT kill him.

I felt the loud SNAP and wiggling of the chains as I was strapped into handcuffs, restricting my hands and keeping me from running and escaping, fleeting from the prison like a breath from a human.

These men, however, knew me. Unless he was there, I had no reason to escape this prison, for what was lying outside those walls for me?

They coaxed me out of the room of hell with a crooked finger, knowing I will follow like a devoted puppy, ears and head down, not daring to go against them in pure fear of being punished.

Except that isn't why I was going along with it. I had another reason entirely.

From there I was led down a long, empty hall way, with the cages of the tortured and imprisoned on either sides of us, my feet clanking against the floor making me cringe as they seemed to drive them even more insane.

Some of them reached out of their cells, desperate to grab onto my shirt, to clutch into the ratty fabric and beg me to take them with me, like I was either their last hope or another snap, pushing them one more inch closer to the edge while they pushed at the wall that shoved them around violently.

Others stood in the corner of their cells, cowering a giant the wall like I was THEIR poison threatening to spill into their wounds and make them sting even deeper than they already did, making permanent marks and scars on their precious human flesh.

"Keep walking!" One of the guards barked.

No problem.

SNAP

CLANK

CLICK

Sounds echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and coming back to our ears multiple times over, like the screams of helpless victims after...

No. Stop. These thoughts...they're what are...

"Tyler Collins!" The judge snapped, breaking me from my enchanting trance and my intense eye-battle with the water pale in front of me, watching as it rippled and torn upon itself in its small container.

I glanced back, inspecting the face of the guard who held my handcuffs tight, being sure not to scrap past my hands, for that could be dangerous everyone in this room, if an insane man were to escape.

But they don't understand. None of them did.

For I did NOT kill him.

"You are being charged for degree one murder, the murdering of young Mitchell Hughes. You took an axe to his head, hacking off his limps in the most ballistic manor. For this, you are charged of murder, and deserve to be sentenced to death."

I didn't do it. It was the other man, I promise. I was simply there. I was not insane. I was there. I was with...

HIM.

For I did NOT kill him.

"You may now lay him across the devise." I heard the clanking and groaning of a loud, metal machine as I was pushed and shoved, their rough hands moving my body in such a violent and unfriendly manor.

There was a BANG and a grunt as I landed across the large devise, my head landing right where it was supposed to go ; right underneath the large knife.

My eyes widened in realization.

I was to be killed for a crime I did not commit.

I would never see Adam again. The way his eyes cradled me with love and angst, a sudden passion for a human being who was so close to tipping over the edge, falling and not being able to shoot out his hand to catch him and save his pathetic life.

I was to be killed without saying goodbye to my husband, my love, my sky, no, my universe.

For that, I had nicknamed him Sky. For he was mine.

And I would never see it again.

"You may now pull the lever."

CLANK...

CLANK...

CLANK...

screaming.

A small, devious smirk danced across my lips as I heard the screams of people and the pounding of their heels and boots as they evacuated the area, terrified by a being I was not aware of, but knew who it was without having to see them.

I am Tyler Dahlberg.

On Decemeber 5th, at 3:06, a murder was committed at my home while I was with my best friend, Mitchell. He had been the one to die. The murdered fled, axe left behind, and I was framed for all his terrible deeds, even when they found me sobbing over the body.

I was thrown in jail, people truly believing that I was the murder, be living that I was a merciless, heartless bastard, wanting to hack everyone apart.

I slowly went insane, due to the screaming and shouts of pain from the people around my jail cell. My heart throbbed for my husband and love, Sky.

That's when he started visiting.

He would rap at my window, and I would throw everything aside, jumping out and into his open and willing arms. I would allow him to wash the blood and torture from my body, cleansing my fingers, hands and arms, struggling to keep me on the brink of insanity, trying to keep me from teetering over the ledge.

And here he was, saving my life, not thinking about anything else as he lifted up the knife with a mighty strength, grabbed my hand, and fled.

I am Tyler Dahlberg.

I am married to Adam Dahlberg.

I was convicted of a crime I did not commit.

He believes me.

For I did NOT kill him.

-A/N-

I was feeling depressed with the whole Adam thing and just an overall mood swing so I decided to write to vent my feelings. This is what happened...hope you like it :)