Title: The Redefinition of Pain

Summary: In the aftermath of a tragedy, Troy and Gabriella seek comfort within one another and learn the true value of life and love. In response to ZA Angels Write-Off. One Shot. TxG. Rated T for mature themes, sexual references & coarse language.

Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with the High School Musical franchise, I have no ownership of the characters, plots, settings etc. I am just buddies with Peter and Kenny and they said I could borrow the gang.

Author's Note: Holly's challenge dictates to write a one-shot about Troy and Gabriella in the aftermath of a tragedy. It further explicates that it can be any sort of tragedy – comedic or dark in nature – and then there is an additional request to 'expand the wingspan of your creative spirit'. As a fan fiction author, I write to challenge myself to become a better author. There is intention within my overall verse of stories to enter a fairly dark and angsty place however as yet I haven't really tapped into anything particularly angsty. So therefore, I have chosen to take the theme at its face value immediate connotation, write something deep, and see how it turns out. Don't expect my usual fluff. I implore you to bombard me with nicely worded con crit.

Warning: Character death contained within. Proceed with caution.

The Redefinition of Pain

Gabriella Montez had spent a good portion of her teenage years moving around the country, flying from city to city as she and her mother relocated their life time and time again. Then, she had spent a good portion of her undergraduate college years flying backwards and forwards across the country; from her new home in Cambridge, Massachusetts to Los Angeles, California where her boyfriend was on a basketball scholarship at the University of California. Then there was the international flight, across the Atlantic Ocean to Florence, Italy.

She had once thought that would be the most painful flight of her life.

Pain had since been redefined.

"Miss, can I get you anything from our complimentary beverage service?" the male flight attendant asked, a too polite to have only his drink service on his mind smile upon his face.

"Vodka. With a twist. Neat."

"Certainly, miss. You've had a few of those tonight. Celebrating something perhaps?"

Gabriella handed him her empty plastic cup in exchange for a fresh replacement. She tossed the liquid into her throat. Straight vodka would normally burn. However, she didn't feel a thing.

Her answer to his question was simple. "No."

...

Welcome to Albuquerque, the friendly sign met her.

It was that sign and that sign only which met her. She watched as her fellow passengers fell into the arms of friends, family and loved ones. There was no one meeting Gabriella. No one knew that she was coming. Who would have expected her to come, to fly all the way from Florence, Italy back to Albuquerque, New Mexico. She had no idea what time it was. She didn't even know what time she had left. All she knew was that it was daylight.

There hadn't been time to pack. The only available flight was leaving an hour and a half after she had contacted the airline. She had simply thrown a few random necessities into a carry on bag and gone straight to the airport. Clothes, material things – they didn't matter. So Gabriella bypassed the luggage queue, heading straight on through to acquire a cab.

"Where to, miss?"

...

It had been four and a half years. Four and a half years since Gabriella had laid eyes upon the beautiful, brick A-frame house with the shady, sturdy tree in the front yard. Four and a half years since she had walked up the long white footpath. Four and a half years since she had closed her eyes and slowly drawn in a breath through her nose, taking in the scent of the plants and flowers which filled the garden beds. Four and a half years since she had felt the cool metal doorbell beneath her finger tip.

She shuffled her feet in a sudden moment of questioning panic. She hadn't even thought of anything other than to come straight here. However when the door opened and Jack Bolton's broken face crumbled into a look of welcoming warmth, Gabriella knew that there had been nowhere else to go.

"Gabriella," he said simply, and opened his arms.

She clung to the man who was like a surrogate father to her, the tears which had been burgeoning for four days straight once again beginning to trickle down her cheeks.

"Hello Jack," Gabriella said hoarsely.

"How's Italy?" he asked, a slight smile upon his lips.

"Very… Italian. Lots of pizza and gelati," Gabriella responded. "Is Lucy here?"

"She's at the florist making final arrangements."

Gabriella nodded. "And is…"

She couldn't even bring herself to ask. Somehow, Jack understood.

"In the living room. Everyone is there. It's Wildcat invasion, 2013."

Almost every one.

The interior of the house had barely changed. In the hallway from the front door through to the kitchen and living area, Gabriella gazed around in a mesmerized time warp. The same soothing mint green was upon the walls. The same earthy tones of the furniture. The same pale wooden timber featured within the kitchen, the smooth floorboards recently polished.

He was sitting at the end of the couch, facing away from her. She saw him tense. She knew that he knew she was standing there.

"Gabriella!" Kelsi exclaimed, rising from her place beside Ryan on the couch. "We didn't think you were able to make it! You had your exams and…"

Gabriella contemplated answering with the long winded explanation of her sudden frenzy, her momentary epiphany that the concept of not going was simply unfathomable. The process she had gone through to argue her way onto an international flight at such last minute notice. She'd had to call Ryan and ask him to fax the obituary with the funeral notice to the airline for them to make the allowance. But instead, her answer was simple. Two words.

"I'm here."

Troy rose from his place at the end of the couch, the notepad he had been clutching onto with his to do check list fell to the ground. He stepped out from the couch, and turned around.

It had been nine months since she had seen his cerulean blue eyes filled with light and laughter.

It had been eight months and twenty nine days since she had gotten the news about someone pulling out of the post graduate exchange program, that a place was available to leave almost immediately.

It had been eight months and twenty four days since she had last seen his cerulean blue eyes filled with sadness.

The sadness that now filled his once bright and alive blue eyes would haunt him forever.

"Gabriella," he murmured, his voice hollow with grief.

"Troy," she whispered.

For four days Troy had been walking around in a haze.

One minute he had been tying up his shoelaces, getting ready to go to practice. It had become routine, but there were days Troy had to pinch himself to remember that he was there, that he had arrived. He was just short of a year into his two year contract with the Los Angeles Lakers, with negotiations already taking place to extend the contract with some nice perks added to the package. One minute he was contemplating the negotiations, contemplating how he had done his dues and sacrificed so much and that finally he was making it.

And then one minute later the phone had rang and his world had come crashing down.

The four days since, Troy had been stoic, going through the motions in a blur. Emergency flights, contacting friends and family, assisting with funeral arrangements.

Selecting the casket.

He couldn't stop, because if he stopped then he would think about the gaping hole inside.

For four days Troy had been running on the sheer will to make it through the day without breaking down.

It had been nine months since Gabriella and Troy had spoken one another's names without a pang of venom within their tone.

But now, all the screaming and shouting, the name calling, the crying, the bitter resentment – none of it mattered any longer. It all simply… floated away.

Her voice saying his name with such a mixture of grief and love and tenderness and sympathy and sheer agony was enough for him to break. A choked sob escaped from his mouth, his face contorting, his knees buckling. And then she was there, supporting him, her arms encircled around him and comforting him, her ebony waves surrounding his face as he collapsed into her shoulder and clung to her for dear life.

It had been eight months and twenty four days since Troy had last cried. Eight months and twenty four days since he had collapsed to the floor of his Los Angeles apartment after screaming at his lover, his partner, his soul mate, to get the hell out and fuck off to Italy.

He had thought that moment would be the worst pain he would ever feel.

Pain had since been redefined.

And after four days of clinging to his mask, Troy broke down and wept.

Gabriella had to summon strength from within that she hadn't even realized she possessed. She had to summon every ounce of strength, not only to fuel her own being but now, to fuel his. She was terrified. Terrified that if she didn't hold onto him tight enough, if she couldn't provide him with enough strength, that if she let go… then he might fade away.

She gripped onto him firmly with trembling hands, murmuring customary words of comfort through her tears. It wasn't the tears that mattered. It was the placating tone.

The rest of the world washed away, the people seated around the lounge room didn't exist. Time had no meaning. There was only Troy, and Gabriella… and him.

It was Troy who pulled away from the depths of her embrace. Still clutching to her waist, he lowered his forehead to rest on hers. Clouded blue eyes met glossy chocolate brown.

"Troy," Gabriella whispered, her voice shaking. "I'm so…"

"Ssshhh. Don't say it."

She nodded and swallowed. "I love you."

"I love you too. And… and thank you," he whispered hoarsely. "Thank you for coming, thank you for…"

He couldn't finish the sentence, but the words weren't necessary. Lips met in a soft, trembling, chaste kiss. When Gabriella pulled away from him, finally she took a moment to take in Troy's pasty skin, the bags under his eyes, his disheveled hair. She kept her arm around his waist, his arm snaking around her and pulling her in tight as she turned to look at their friends.

"Hi everyone," Gabriella said quietly.

Jason was the first to stand, he coming over from the arm chair and gestured to Gabriella's carry on bag that was still slung over her shoulder.

"Let me grab this."

"Thanks," Gabriella said simply. She'd forgotten she was even still carrying it.

She made the rounds of the room, giving each of her friends a hug and a kiss hello. Somehow it felt hollow, to be greeting them as though they were gathered for a purpose other than something entirely morbid. However comfort could be sought from the routine. And it was routine after not having seen a friend for a lengthy period of time to give them a kiss and a hug hello.

Without even contemplating the act or its meaning, Gabriella went back over to Troy and their fingers naturally entwined as she led him back over to where he had been sitting on the couch. The two inhabited the space he had previously been in. She nestled into his side, his arm around her protectively. The group sat in silence for a moment. Gabriella absentmindedly linked hands with Taylor who sat to her right, and her thumb began to toy with the diamond ring on Taylor's left hand.

"This is so much prettier in person than in the photo you e-mailed to me," Gabriella murmured. "Where is David?"

"He's flying in later tonight. You'll really like him."

"Are you staying with your mom?" Gabriella asked.

Taylor nodded. "Uh huh."

"Where are you staying? Your mom is still in Chicago, isn't she?" Zeke asked.

Gabriella cleared her throat. "Yes, for this year anyway she's still there. I haven't gotten to working that out. I flew from Florence to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Denver, Denver to Albuquerque and then I got in a cab and came straight here."

"She's staying here," Troy said softly, and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her forehead.

"Or… that."

Gabriella's eyes were floating around the room, taking in the people who surrounded her; the people who had been so instrumental within her final years of high school; the people who had formed an integral part in defining who Gabriella had become as a person. It was the first time the nine of them had been in a single room since just after graduation, senior year.

In fact it had been in that very room where the nine of them plus one had conducted their final group activity.

They never did all fit in the Bolton lounge room. Even with couples squishing in together, there had always needed to be someone sitting on a cushion on the floor or loafing in the beanbag.

Kelsi and Ryan; and Sharpay and Zeke were snuggled up in their respective pairings on the second couch. Taylor and Martha were beside Troy and Gabriella. And Jason was at the head of the group, sitting in the arm chair.

Leaving the bean bag empty.

Gabriella was staring at the bean bag, as though willing it to morph and create someone to nestle within it. She was staring so hard that she didn't even realize that her eyes had once again filled with tears.

Never again would all ten of them be together.

"Gabriella?" Troy said softly, the tips of his fingers touching her chin.

"Sorry I umm… I spaced."

"When did this happen?" Gabriella asked hoarsely, gesturing toward Ryan and Kelsi's entwined hands.

"Does it matter?" Ryan asked.

"No. No it doesn't."

The small talk was somehow more deafening than the silence. Fortunately, the door to the garage opened, with Lucille Bolton appearing moments later.

"Hi Mrs B," Zeke said quietly.

"Oh good, you're all still here." Lucille took another few steps forward, before registering the extra body in the room. "Gabriella!"

Gabriella disentangled herself from Troy, and rose, giving Lucille a small smile. "Hi Lucy."

"Sweetheart, when did you get here? So good to see you," Lucy said, wrapping her arms around the younger woman who captured her son's heart so many years ago.

"Umm… I've been here… a while… not long… I've no idea," Gabriella admitted.

"You look exhausted. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?"

"No thank you. I'm fine."

Troy also stood up, and went over to encircle his arm around Gabriella's waist.

"Gabriella is staying here. Okay?" It was phrased more so as a statement rather than a question.

"If that's okay with you," Gabriella added quickly.

"Of course it is, you know that's fine."

"How was she?" Troy asked anxiously.

Lucille gave a tight smile. "As to be expected. Jason, are you still okay to organize the slideshow?" Jason nodded. "And Taylor, did you get the e-mail with the poem?"

"Yup."

Lucille nodded. She rubbed her eyes, which were already red from spending a good portion of the last few days in tears. "Good. That's… that's good."

"Did you see Jayme?" Taylor asked quietly.

Lucille nodded. "She's… not doing well. But… you know. That's understandable. After finding him… well…. Yes. Troy honey… I think… I think she might like it if you went over and…"

"No," Troy said quietly, but firmly.

"But Troy I think that…"

"No!" he yelped, his voice rising in octaves. His eyes were wide and he was wringing his hands, sickened by the mere suggestion. "I'm organizing the music and giving a eulogy and I helped with picking out the fucking casket that I'm gonna help carry and bury my best friend in. Isn't that enough? Isn't that… I can't… I can't go there! I can't… not where… I can't go to where he…"

"It's okay," Lucille said soothingly, capturing her son by the shoulders and holding him still. "It's okay. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"Sorry," Troy murmured. "I'll… I'll talk to her. I will. Just… not there."

She took in a deep breath. "Okay. I have to go make some phone calls. If any of you are contacted by anyone asking about where to send flowers, please be sure to direct them to donate to the AFSP. His mother is extremely, extremely adamant about that."

"We know," Ryan said.

"And umm… they decided today that there is going to be a visitation period for two hours up until a half hour before… before… before the proceedings."

Taylor nodded. "Okay. Is there anything we can do to help you?"

"It's fine, the funeral director has most of it under control," she said, taking a breath. "Excuse me."

Lucille picked the phone off the hook, and headed up the stairs.

"What does she mean… a visitation?" Sharpay asked tentatively. "I um… I've never been to a funeral. I don't… what will… I don't understand what's going to happen."

"I don't think having been to a funeral can exactly prepare you," Kelsi said, reaching over Ryan to rub Sharpay's arm consolingly.

Troy cleared his throat. "They uh… it's a closed casket service. But they um… they have it open during visitation. So if you want you can go and umm… you know. Say… say goodbye," Troy's voice cracked on the last word, tears welling in his eyes. He violently wiped at his eyes. "Fuck," he muttered.

"You mean… open with… with him… oh." Sharpay's eyes widened as the realization dawned and the true meaning of the words hit her.

Once again silence fell upon the group.

"I should get going," Jason said quietly, breaking the quiet. "I have to do this slide show for the post service thing."

"Do you still want our help with it?" Ryan asked, on behalf of himself and Kelsi.

"If you guys don't mind."

Gradually, the Wildcats departed from the Bolton residence. Drawn out hugs were exchanged between all, goodbyes taking longer than on a typical day. But there was nothing typical about the situation at all. There was nothing typical about being reunited as a group to mourn the loss of a friend. There was nothing typical about hugging a friend goodbye and questioning whether it could be the last time you would see them, hear them, touch them.

Typical would never exist again.

...

Gabriella had sat down with the Bolton family and participated in a manufactured classic family dinner scenario. More food was wrapped up as leftovers than consumed. More time was spent in awkward silence than talking. Troy had excused himself to go and work on his speech, and Lucille had announced that she would go and make up the spare room for Gabriella. She was highly aware that the room would remain unused, however in her mom-ish fashion she was clenching to concepts of normality. It was normal to be paranoid about your son having sex under your roof. Even if he was a young man, living on his own in Los Angeles, in the midst of a burgeoning NBA career.

Gabriella came into Troy's room, clad in a towel after taking a shower. Troy was propped up against the pillows of his bed, pen clenched between his teeth, and a notepad in his lap. Half a dozen pages of eulogy attempts had been scrunched up into a ball and tossed free throw style into the waste paper basket by Troy's desk. Troy's room hadn't changed since the day he had moved to Los Angeles for college, it had remained in its original format as a shrine to its owner.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said softly, clicking the door closed behind her.

Troy smiled warmly. "Don't be silly."

"Can I borrow a shirt? I didn't bring much with me, I just threw some random items into my bag and left my apartment."

"Sure. There's still a bunch of my old shirts in the drawers."

She pilfered through the drawer until she located a shirt she was satisfied with; it was just a plain pale blue t-shirt. She smiled, recalling him wearing it the day they'd been caught picnicking and running through the sprinklers on the golf course at Lava Springs.

"Thanks," Gabriella said, holding it up. She moved toward his bedroom door.

"Where are you going?"

"Umm… to get changed?"

"Right, and I haven't seen you naked before."

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "I also have to tidy up the bathroom and brush my teeth."

"You're coming back though, right?"

She hesitated. "Do you… do you want me to? Because… I would understand if you would prefer it if I just slept in the spare room."

"Hey now," Troy said, sitting up. "Not only do I want you to come back but…. But I need you to come back. If I'm gonna lie awake, better it be with you beside me than just staring at the ceiling again."

Gabriella gave him a small sympathetic smile, knowing all too well the feeling of grief induced insomnia.

"I won't be long," she promised.

As promised, she returned shortly after, two more crumpled up balls of paper being added to the pile in the garbage bin.

"Any luck?" she asked softly. Illustrating the answer, another ball of paper flew across the room, landing neatly into the basket. "That good huh?"

She came over to lie on the bed beside him.

"I shouldn't be doing this."

"You shouldn't be doing what?" Gabriella murmured.

"Giving this speech."

"Why not?"

"It's so fake. Standing up there and… and telling stories of the good times and how much… and how much… and how much he means to me. What kind of friend am I? I spent the last nine months so wrapped up in my career and in trying to not fall apart living without you that… I had no idea that he was… I didn't know…" Troy trailed off, his voice cracking. He took a deep breath. "He was fine! We would leave Facebook comments and text each other every so often. But… but it's all so fake, so contrived. If I was a true friend… I would have known. He could have told me. He could have talked to me. Why didn't he talk to me?!"

Troy violently threw his notepad and pen across the room, shaking slightly as he hugged his knees to his chest. Gabriella was doing everything within her power to not collapse, to not fall apart.

"Troy you can't do this to yourself," Gabriella whispered, tears welling. She sat up, tucking her knees beneath her as she kneeled in front of him. "You just can't. I know it's natural for you to go there but you have to fight it. There is absolutely nothing that you could have done. This is NOT on you. You have to know that, you have to believe that."

She wrapped her arms around him, hoping that in some way he would be able to draw enough strength from her to pull through. The only problem with that theory was that she had no idea whether she had any strength within to share.

"I wish I had answers for you," Gabriella whispered, as she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "You're an amazing man, an incredible friend." Her lips now pressed against his left cheek. "These things… they… they…. They happen. There's no point in questioning why." A kiss now fell upon his right cheek. "You just have to believe that it happened for a reason, you have to believe that he is in a better place."

She pressed her lips to his once and then twice, in no way intending the kiss to be anything other than chaste and comforting. However on the third kiss, Troy's hands snaked up to hold her neck as he held the kiss, his lips parting and drawing his tongue lightly along her bottom lip, seeking permission to enter. She moaned into his kisses.

It had been nine months since she had felt the true depth of his kisses. Nine months of remembering and wanting to know his touch and his taste again. And finally, they were together again, with lost time to regain. She broke apart from him, gasping for air, and Troy's lips deviated south. He was nuzzling at her neck, upon the very spot that he knew would ignite a fire within her belly.

"Wait… why are we doing this?" Gabriella asked, gasping as he suckled on her neck.

There was a popping sound as he removed his lips. "Does it matter?"

She hesitated. "I guess not."

Troy raised his eyebrows. "That was a yes, it does matter."

"A little," she admitted, biting her lip.

"I love you," Troy murmured and pressed his lips to hers for a soft kiss. "I don't care what happened, I don't care what is going to happen. I just know that right now in this moment, that I love you. And that I need you. And the rest… can't we deal with that later?"

No words were needed to represent her approval. Instead, Gabriella's hands raked through his hair as she pulled him down, lips seeking lips, tongue seeking entrance to dance with his. It was a kiss was about more than lust, more than passion, more than love. It was a kiss about mutual escape, a kiss to create a haven from the world. His hands were toying with the hem of the shirt she was wearing.

"Wait," Gabriella said, catching his hands before they removed the item. "Before you do that, maybe I should go and roll around in the spare bed just to keep your mom content."

"It worries me that you were thinking about my mom when your hand was just where it was."

Troy and Gabriella burst into laughter. It wasn't even a particularly funny remark. But it set them off, laughing and laughing and laughing. The tears which had been permanently welling in each of their eyes for the last few days were once again streaming down, this time induced from the fit of laughter. Gabriella was laughing at Troy laughing; and Troy was laughing at Gabriella laughing. Momentary control was gained, until they glanced at each other again and ignited a fresh set of laughter.

The laughter settled, and Gabriella nestled into Troy's naked form. He reached down to press a soft kiss against her shoulder.

"Should we be doing this now?" Troy whispered.

"Doing what?"

"Laughing and enjoying being with one another."

Gabriella swallowed. "Now, more than ever."

...

Troy came down stairs, dressed in a classic black suit white shirt combination. His parents and Gabriella were seated in the lounge. Troy held up the black tie that he was carrying.

"Should I wear a tie?" Troy asked quietly.

"It's up to you, honey," Lucille said gently.

"You know what he would have said? He would have made some inappropriate remark saying that the guy is dead and he won't care what I wear. Maybe I should be wearing jeans and sneakers." Troy felt his throat catch, somehow managing to say, "excuse me," before beelining upstairs.

Gabriella closed her eyes and took a deep breath before standing up and primly straightening her charcoal grey skirt. Wordlessly, she began the monumental climb up the stairs, following him to his room. She didn't even bother knocking, she just quietly opened the door and softly clicked it closed behind her, and then waited. Troy was standing at his bedroom window, staring out into his backyard.

"You know, I see him there," he said. "He's right there, he has a basketball in his hands and he's cockily running around the half court like he's king of the universe. And then… and then I see him over there, badly hidden behind the bush with a plastic gun. And he's over there, passed out drunk. And I could keep going…"

"I know," Gabriella said softly. "Why do you think my mom wound up moving around the country for half of my childhood? She kept trying to escape the memory of my father. We would move somewhere new and even though he'd never been there, he had been there. The memories became of moments that she would think about him. When she would think, Diego would have loved this restaurant. Diego would have loved these curtains."

Troy stared at his lover in a look of fondness, a look of bittersweet pride at the strength she was exhibiting.

"You know, this morning when I was in the shower… I think a whole minute went by when I wasn't thinking about him. I was thinking about our fight and how we parted and… and I was thinking about how I never want to leave your side ever again."

"Troy…" she began to say.

"No. Let me finish. Even last night when you and I were making love, he was with me. Yes it was about you and that I love you but… but it was also about that I just feel like someone has come and punched a hole in my chest and ripped out my lungs and that the only way that I can breathe is by having you there."

"Troy…" Gabriella once again said, but Troy continued with his run on musing.

"That's not the point. The point is that… is that I shouldn't have been thinking about that. The point is that every turn I take I see him and I feel him and now, I'm about to go and look into the open casket of my best friend and… and… it is wrong for me to be thinking about anything other than him."

Gabriella shook her head, stepping toward him. She took his hands in hers, fingers naturally entwining.

"That's ridiculous and you know it. You're only human Troy, human beings cannot compartmentalize our lives entirely. You can't just decide that today is only about compartment A and push aside all other aspects of your life to be dealt with later."

Troy's lower lip trembled. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For coming. For being here. I… I couldn't do this without you. I can't do this without you."

"I need you just as much as you need me right now. He… he is… was… my friend too," she reminded him, her voice cracking.

"I know that. Which is what makes you even more amazing."

Lips met in a bittersweet kiss.

"How long are you here for?" Troy asked quietly.

"I thought you said last night that we weren't thinking about that now," Gabriella said in placating tone, rubbing her fingers at the nape of his neck.

"But I am thinking about it because… because I don't know how I'm supposed to get through this without being with you pretty much every second of every minute of every hour of…"

"Troy?" Gabriella interrupted.

"Mmm?"

"Even if I leave… I'm not leaving you. I'm not leaving you, not ever."

Lips met softly for a short, but zealous kiss. Foreheads rested together, trembling fingers entwined.

"Come on," Troy whispered. "We have to go say goodbye."