Tim's eyes slip closed for a moment, like it hurts to look at anything. He should've braced himself for this - this sort of talk was coming, it was inevitable, and it's his own damn fault for not addressing this beforehand.
He doesn't come out okay, does he?
Because he thinks of Alex, he thinks of Seth, distorted screams rebounding off the walls of an abandoned warehouse. Of Sarah, and of Amy, who must have died not even knowing why he was killing them. Of Brian, gaunt and lifeless and splayed on the floor like a broken marionette. Of Jay desperately holding himself together with dribbles of scarlet drooling out between his fingers, his breath high and thin and terrified as he saw the thing that would kill him looming out from the shadows.
Of Alex, a point in his throat, blood gurgling on the floor in a fount of red.
He doesn't come out okay, does he?
Quiet words, ragged words, and even with the guilt coiled tightly around his gut, he knows, full well, what an error it would be to tell her the details of what transpired.
no subject
He doesn't come out okay, does he?
Because he thinks of Alex, he thinks of Seth, distorted screams rebounding off the walls of an abandoned warehouse. Of Sarah, and of Amy, who must have died not even knowing why he was killing them. Of Brian, gaunt and lifeless and splayed on the floor like a broken marionette. Of Jay desperately holding himself together with dribbles of scarlet drooling out between his fingers, his breath high and thin and terrified as he saw the thing that would kill him looming out from the shadows.
Of Alex, a point in his throat, blood gurgling on the floor in a fount of red.
He doesn't come out okay, does he?
Quiet words, ragged words, and even with the guilt coiled tightly around his gut, he knows, full well, what an error it would be to tell her the details of what transpired.
"None of us did."