He's trying to breathe through it. He's trying, he really is, trying to breathe through the haze of lingering panic and trying not to hyperventilate when Sans is pleading and Max is calling him nice, and he wishes he could just say that she's lying but she isn't. Alex tried to kill her. And he hasn't. And that's - that's her set of standards, right? That's the best he can do! Not kill her.

"I - I - "

He can't form enough of a sentence to hurl back as an argument. He's not crazy? Of course he's fucking crazy. That's all he's ever been. Lunatic, locked up in the hospital so he doesn't hurt himself and everyone else!

A faint sound works out from his throat, from between gritted teeth, and Tim sinks into a half-crouch with his hands mantled over his face.

He's going to start crying again. Again.

"I don't want to," he mumbles into his hands. "I don't want to go back and think of everyone staring at me."