Archive of Our Own ^beta

Nights upon nights of going along with Jay, to the hospital, to motels, anywhere that Alex wouldn’t find them, but.. All of that ended. All of it ended after Jay was shot, after Tim killed Alex. After the guilt that started brewing under his skin after everything was done.

And now, after all those nights of insecure housing, of not knowing the next point when they would have to face Alex, face Brian, face each other. There was nothing now. Absolutely nothing. There was only… quiet. Only distance. Tim needed to distance himself from anyone who he could hurt. Be it on accident or on purpose.

He never tried to talk to people except the people he needed to at work, he didn’t allow himself to have friends, to have relationships. Because he didn’t need them. Not really. Not when he could infect them with the same thing Alex had.

And he would never let himself forget that. Day after day of being stuck alone in his new apartment. Filled with medication he had gotten from a new doctor, a new psychiatrist, a new town, a new pharmacy. Medication that wasn’t being stolen by his first real friend.

But when things start happening again… he’s not angry. He’s quiet in his confusion. His window screen from his bedroom somehow got a hole in it the other night, his car has a new scratch on it, he keeps seeing a silver kia in the parking lot of his work. But he has to brush them off as nothing, because they really have to be nothing of importance.

But when he sees someone outside of his house, standing in the field across from it just sitting there? Oh he can’t just brush that away, that’s a grown man.A random guy a couple meters from his house. Sitting right along the treeline, sitting on a rock. Tim approaches this man slowly, but fast enough that he can try and stop them from slipping away.

Originally the man just seemed to be sitting, completely blank faced, slightly leaned down. But as soon as they notice Tim approaching? They shift demeanor, personalities really. They straighten up, backing away. Only then does he notice the crude mask on their face, he doesn’t recognize it really, but it resembles his own. His own that he threw away almost five years ago. Were they stuck like he had been?

“You don’t have to run!” He shouts in a slight panic as he’s a couple meters away from them. Six feet worth of distance between the two.

They freeze, like everything inside of them was confused, scared, angry. They don’t say anything. Tim doesn’t expect them to. He doesn’t step forward, he really tries to remember what he felt when he had the mask on. Don’t touch, don’t get close, I’m going to hurt you because I don’t understand. He takes a step back, an entire leg span of stepping back.

“Look, I… I know what it feels like. When you’re not in control?” He says shakily. “I’m not asking who is in there.” Oh, this must’ve been terrifying when Jay had to do this with him.

The man with the mask, just stands, his hands curl around themselves like restraining himself. Tim swallows slightly, he looks at them.

“You’re not being controlled right? That’s all I need you to tell me.” He says gently. “And… if that changes, you know where to find me. Okay? Guy..?” He then steps aside, going back into his house.

He watches as they stand there, slightly shaking, but eventually turning away. Turning away, back into the forest, disappearing from view. And Tim stays in the dark for a long time after, trying to calm himself down. What… What was that? Who was that? Would they come back?

Unfortunately, like everything does, it does come back. In his house this time. He doesn’t see the man, but he just knows because of how they disturbed the space. A door closed when it was open earlier, a misplaced coffee mug, and someone choosing not to announce themselves.

He steps into his bedroom, and he locks it behind himself. Not to trap himself or what he thinks is inside, but to control the situation. He pushes himself to the corner of his room, grabbing a large book to use to attack. He can hear the man stepping closer to the door, then he hesitates, they seemingly lean their head against the door because of how he can hear the short gasping breaths.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Tim states, shakily as he stands.

For the first time, the man responds, with a voice that’s too familiar, tired, unused, scratchy. “I didn’t know where else to go. I… needed-” The man’s feet shifted backwards like they were going out of fear.
Tim opens his bedroom door, unlocking it, but quickly he looks at the man. He quietly whispers his name, “Jay?”

Both Skully and Tim freeze. It felt wrong to be named, to name.

“No,” Tim says, barely audible.
“You don’t get to sound like him.”

Jay slightly pulls his mask down after years of keeping it on. Seeing Jay’s face doesn’t help Tim. If anything it worsens their situation. His composure slips, the thing he had been building for five years now. He bites his lip.

“You’re dead.” Tim mumbles, his brain trying to catch up. “You’re not- I know you’re not-”

Tim’s face feels too hot to handle, his breathing rushing faster than needed, sweat beginning to bead on his face.

Jay’s fist curls slightly. “I just.. I just needed-”

“I know-” He mumbles back. “I.. know.”

His voice drops, slowly shaking. His hands were shaking again. “You sound like someone I watched disappear.” He scoffs. “And you walked into my house like you didn’t know that!”

His eyes feel glassy, his body feels wrong, everything feels wrong as he stands there. He grounds himself by not looking at Jay. Just staring at the floor. He can’t look at Jay, because then, it would make this real.

“You can’t do that to people,” he says, softer now. “You can’t come back from the dead and ask to be held.”

He felt like he was crying. Of course he was crying. Jay slightly steps closer.

“I’m… not him. But, I’m still here.” He says quietly.

Tim laughs gently. A broken sob really, he looks up at Jay now, with his eyes glassy and red. He goes to sit down on the floor, like his legs just gave up on him, because in a way, they really did.

“I’m not asking for you to fix me,” Jay says quietly. “I just needed to know that- I needed proof that someone alive still knows my name-”

When Jay finally leaves, when Tim stands and just… stays on the opposite side of the room with them both just standing in tired acceptance. Tim stands in the doorway.

“Jay.. just..”

“Don’t disappear again. I don’t think I can handle that twice.” He says gently.

The door closes, and Tim can hear as Jay walks away. Slightly limping. He knows he’s staying here a little too long. He knows that Jay has already left. He tells himself that this is fine, that this was fine.

He locks the door and steps away from it. And then it hits. The immediate panic that just beautifully graces him after he looks at the chair that Jay had sat in while they stared, still with the warmth of a man who should be dead. Tim’s chest tightens as his vision blurs. He tries to hold onto the wall, but it doesn’t keep him up this time.

He slides down to the floor, his knees already up to his chest. His breaths hitch in his lungs each reminding him that this could be the last one he breathes, because of how hard it was to push them out.

His thoughts spiral, angry at him, not his own.

You let it in,
You knew better, and you let it in,
You always know better, yet you always do these stupid things.

He digs his fingernails into his palms, trying to ground him in something real, but when that doesn’t work he starts a mantra.

“He’s alive- he’s alive- he’s alive-” He mumbles, attempting to ground himself, but the sound that breaks out of him is worse than a cry. It’s a long sob of missing Jay, hating Jay, loving Jay, wishing he could’ve called him on his phone and gotten an answer back.

But, he’s alive, and that’s what matters. That’s what matters right now.