[There's a hard burn in the back of his throat, the stale taste of too many things intermingling with one another - but that familiar, helpless outrage is the most readily familiar. It burns there like bile, eating into the roof of his mouth, cementing his teeth together, making him sick with it.]
[Heating his vision. He can't see it, can't think through the buzz and catch of static fogging his brain.]
Who.
[He can guess. Some digging. Tim's locked up like a vault, but there's one person who would disclose, no matter how stupid an idea it was.]
no subject
[Two more.]
[There's a hard burn in the back of his throat, the stale taste of too many things intermingling with one another - but that familiar, helpless outrage is the most readily familiar. It burns there like bile, eating into the roof of his mouth, cementing his teeth together, making him sick with it.]
[Heating his vision. He can't see it, can't think through the buzz and catch of static fogging his brain.]
Who.
[He can guess. Some digging. Tim's locked up like a vault, but there's one person who would disclose, no matter how stupid an idea it was.]
Who told you.