knocked the wind out of my soul [open]

[postictal]

Who: Tim Wright and oh god not another event log
Where: Anywhere
When: September 18th - 22nd
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Between a trip to the Mirrorside and a visit to the Core, Wonderland was playing havoc.
The Story:

[ deeper and deeper we go ]
[ where there is no light ]

[ you are d̷͚̪̱i̶͔̙̭s̵̼̻̘t̴̰̩͜ọ̴̩̼ŗ̴͉̞t̷̜̳̼ḙ̴̦̤d̴͖͙ͅ ]

Comments

[burntvideocassette]

"'S fine," Jay mumbles reflexively.

He'll live, which Jay guesses is enough. He'd 'live' if Jay left him back there, too. A lobotomy won't kill you.

Breathing comes a little easier now, so Jay tries again to pull himself upright. There's an awful twinge at the back of his head, and he winces, rubbing at the bruise.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jay spots his camera lying only a few feet away, so he snatches it up and winds back through the footage. No sign of the hospital; looks like it just spent the past twenty or so minutes taping the carpet. Figures.

Tim's still got his eyes closed. He's still breathing.

That's about when the full magnitude of what happened sinks in. They're out. Tim was locked up in a mental hospital, and Jay got him out. Tim told him to run, and he didn't this time, and now they're home (to an extent) and safe (to an extent) and for the life of him Jay can't remember a single time when this has happened before. He thought he saved Jessica, but that lasted all of a couple hours. He ran, he left Tim behind, and Tim got his head scoured out until there was almost nothing left. He knew Alex was acting strange, but he didn't say anything until it was too late; he just took his videos and waited until Alex was beyond help.

But he helped this time. No catch (yet). Tim's out. He's safe.

Jay takes a second, buries his head in his hands. Holds his breath.

Finally he speaks, his voice still a quiet rasp. "You wanna watch a movie?"

[postictal]

Like Jay, he needs...a minute. He just needs a minute to process it. To not be on his toes, thinking about the best way to go about a conversation with that many-headed hydra of a miniature event with doctors out to make his life hell. To not be constantly evaluating, calculating, trying to put together the best sentence possible that will net him what he wants.

(When did he stop being that, for Jay? When did he stop doing the same?)

(Hell if he can remember.)

When Jay finally speaks, Tim needs another minute to fully comprehend what it is he's saying.

For the second time in...god, what has it been? Days?

For the second time in just as many days, Tim laughs.

It's an exhausted, almost hysterical sound - cracked around the edges, flaking and fragmenting, saturated in his disbelief and profound, unyielding weariness.

"...yeah," he says, once he catches his breath. "Yeah. Okay."

Let's watch us a goddamn movie.