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Madison was met with an incredibly clear night as she emerged from her room. The stars overwhelmed her. There were millions of them glimmering above, more vivid than she could have ever seen back in Los Angeles. She wore only the long, loose shirt she slept in, and held a light blanket around her shoulders. Tucked under her arm were a torch and a battered copy of 1984, a novel that she had recommended to students, back in another lifetime. Madison had discovered it shoved away inside the cupboard in her sleeping quarters, and while lying awake deep into the night, had decided to reread it.
She made her way across the ranch to the tree where she had cried after Travis’ death. Although it held terrible memories, the spot also calmed her, and she had begun to seek it out whenever she needed a moment of peace. It was the perfect place to curl up and revisit Airstrip One, Oceania, where Big Brother, Hate Week and Newspeak erased the past and destroyed the future. She was intrigued to see how she would respond to the story in light of the past few months. She knew destruction so well now.
When she arrived however, she was surprised to find a figure already there. It was Troy, sitting at the base of the trunk, his boots removed and his legs outstretched in front of him. It occurred to Madison that he was of this place in a way that she would never be, and that this tree had been his long before she had claimed it for herself.
She approached him gently, not knowing what mood to expect from the volatile man. He looked up, eyes widening slightly.
“Madison.” His voice was soft. “What are you doing out here so late?”
She considered her answer for a second. Madison always selected her words carefully around Troy. She decided honesty wouldn't hurt.
“I haven’t been sleeping so well lately,” she admitted. “Go figure.”
He didn’t reply, so she pressed on.
“Why are you up Troy?” Madison asked. “Same problem?”
He shrugged, staring straight ahead. “I finished patrol and I just didn’t really feel like sleeping.”
Madison slowly lowered herself down onto the ground next to him. They sat quietly for a minute, before Troy reached out and gently took the book from her grasp.
“1984,” he read, running his hand over his jaw absentmindedly. “I've never read it. Reading wasn’t really my thing; I could never sit still long enough. Jake probably has though.”
Madison touched the cover, where it lay in Troy’s hands.
“It was always one of my favourites,” she told him. “It’s about a world that might be even more broken than this one, if you can imagine it.”
Troy finally turned to her, catching her gaze and holding it. Madison’s breath hitched slightly. He looked so at-home here, under the night sky. He looked normal. He looked warm and alive, and incredibly human. Under the light of the stars, and up so close, he also looked incredibly gorgeous.
Madison didn’t think it was particularly strange that she found Troy physically attractive. He was, after all, a good-looking young man. She had noticed this the very first time they met.
Unfortunately, Troy was not only handsome; he was also dangerous, unpredictable and quite a bit broken. So Madison had stuck a spoon in his eye, and immediately begun exploiting his weaknesses for her own gain.
When she first worked out how to manipulate the confused young man, she engaged purely out of the desire to protect her family. She quickly noticed that Troy was fixated upon her, using his strange, mummy-issue fuelled crush to her advantage. As a result of her strategizing, Madison became the one that could always be counted on to be in Troy’s corner. She deliberately sought him out in her down time, feeding his cravings for the affection he had missed throughout his youth. She would bring him coffee during patrols, and would fix his hair and straighten his uniform. She would praise him when he acted in a way she approved of, and would support him when he made mistakes, stressing her belief in him and his abilities.
Madison also subtly encouraged Troy’s attraction to her. She made a conscious effort to touch him; a hand on his shoulder here, fingers brushing there. Sometimes, Madison would let her eyes linger slightly longer than entirely necessary on him. She would smile when she caught him staring, and hold eye contact until he broke it.
The problem was, the game was getting to her. Madison was starting to revel in the lingering stares and the charged words that they shared. As a result of her actions, Troy was beginning to look at Madison as if she was the centre of his world, and oddly, she liked it. It made her feel powerful, and it made her feel strong. It also made her feel kind of sexy. She didn’t know what that said about her, that she was getting off on controlling a sociopath, but she figured that surviving an apocalypse was bound to mess a person up.
Troy was still looking at her intently.
Suddenly, he whispered, his voice almost stolen by the breeze.
“Read it to me.”
The air around them suddenly felt as though it was buzzing with electricity. Madison became acutely aware that Troy’s shoulder was pressed against hers.
She hadn’t planned for this. She hadn’t expected this moment; there had been no scheme involved when she had left her room. She also hadn’t prepared for the way she was feeling, a tightening in her chest that screamed that she was in too deep.
In the daylight, she would have been in control. But now, the dreamlike quality of the night made everything feel off kilter. The game was changing, and Madison wasn’t sure who was winning anymore.
Despite this, or maybe because of it, she reached over and took the book from Troy’s hands. She sat still for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath, she opened it and began reading aloud.
“It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen…”
Wrapped in darkness, she read, while Troy listened. Winston Smith’s tale felt like a secret shared between the two of them, side by side against the old tree. She allowed herself to be swept up in the story, basking in the misery of an existence worse than her own.
“Tragedy, he perceived, belonged to the ancient time, to a time when there was still privacy, love, and friendship, and when the members of a family stood by one another without needing to know the reason.”
Eventually, Madison felt Troy slump further down from his upright position beside her. She wondered if he had fallen asleep, and just as she tore her gaze from the page to check, his head lowered gently onto her lap.
He peered up at her, completely open, while she stared down at him, slightly stunned. They sat there, frozen, the silence of the night now ringing in her ears. Time stretched on, and as the beginnings of a dark shadow of doubt and shame appeared on Troy’s face, Madison picked up her book, ran her fingers through his hair and began to read again.
She read until she became so tired she could barely focus on the words. As she felt herself drifting off completely, she forced her eyes open, reached over and pushed back Troy’s sleeve. He shifted and raised his arm slightly. He held his watch in front of their faces, and the two blinked blearily at the 4:14 glowing brightly.
“We should probably head inside,” said Madison. If they fell asleep like this, here, they would have a lot of explaining to do in the morning.
Troy hummed in agreement. “Probably.”
Neither moved. It became silent once more. Madison was still propped up against the base of the tree, while Troy’s head rested on her thighs. He looked at her, his sleepy eyes questioning.
“Madison?”
“Yes.”
“Do you miss your old life?”
She straightened immediately, and the tired haze disappeared from her mind. Troy’s question caught her off guard, and yet, she already knew the answer.
“Sometimes,” she replied honestly. “Some of it. A lot of it. But some things are better left behind.”
She kept it vague, not sure if she wanted to reveal too much of her past to this man. Madison also didn’t know how much of the painful stuff she herself was willing to dwell upon. She needed to remain strong, and once the floodgates were opened, how sure was she that she could close them?
Troy seemed satisfied with her answer.
“I don’t miss much,” he admitted in response. “I think I was made for this world.”
Madison let out a humourless huff. His words should have horrified her, but he had been right when he had said that she understood him. She understood him far too well.
“You know what Troy? I’m starting to think that I was too.”
She felt slightly lighter, sharing this thought with him. It wasn’t something she would want to say to Nick or Alicia. She tried to keep the darker side of herself hidden from them as much as possible, but she could say anything to Troy. He was in no position to judge.
Troy sat up. He had a strange, oddly wistful look on his face.
“Honestly, I do miss Family Feud,” he said.
An unexpected snort of laughter escaped from Madison. The thought of aggressive, militant Troy watching Family Feud was absurd. She imagined him standing in front of the television dressed in his militia uniform, calling out the names of “things you might find in the kitchen.”
Troy looked slightly offended at her amusement, but slowly began to grin. “What? Come on Madison, it was a great show!”
Madison started laughing even harder. “It was fine.”
Troy was snickering too now. “I bet you liked worse,” he said accusingly. “I bet you loved The Bachelor.”
“Hell yeah, I loved The Bachelor!” She replied. “I told Alicia I thought it was garbage, but I always secretly watched it.”
Under this tree, in the dark early hours of the morning, she felt happier and freer than she had in months. It made her feel less like a soldier, and more like a person.
“I miss having a hot bath. A bath and a glass of wine after a long day? Better than sex.” Madison exhaled. “That’s a lie, sex is still better. God, I miss sex.”
Troy froze, his eyes wide. It took Madison a moment to realise what she had said. She hadn't thought she needed to make herself a "don't talk about sex in front of the much-younger crazy man who wants to sleep with you, who you kind of want to sleep with too, even though that's completely insane" rule, but she realised far too late that she really ought to have.
“Uh…” No real words came out of her mouth, and she cursed herself for not going inside earlier. She had known nothing good would come of staying out for so long. Madison had allowed herself to forget who and where she was. She had been joking, laughing, and if she was honest, flirting, as if there were no stakes.
Her failed attempt at speech was enough to snap Troy from his stunned silence. He looked unsure, but he leant forward so his face was close to hers.
“Madison,” he said, his voice low and crackling slightly with a sort of strangled desperation. “Let me make you feel good. Let me make you happy.”
She felt the tightening in her chest for the second time that night, but now a fire accompanied it. She wanted to let him. She wanted everything he would give. She wanted to keep on feeling alive. But she couldn’t. There were so many reasons why she couldn’t. All logic told her to bid him goodnight and leave, that allowing this to happen would bring more chaos raining down upon her.
Madison reached out and laid her hand softly on Troy’s cheek, ready to let him down gently, but her touch caused his face to light up with exhilaration. He smiled, and it dazzled her. This beautiful, damaged man looked at her with so much passion and adoration it made her head spin.
Fuck logic. She could handle a little more chaos.
Madison kissed him and the night caught ablaze.