He draws a hard, shuddering breath that is a little too audible as he propels himself forward, just barely avoiding breaking into a straight run. It's all he can do not to look behind him, don't fucking do it, don't look don't look don't-

"This way!" he whispers sharply, brushing his hand on Tim's arm and steering them both around the corner, he hopes suddenly enough that it throws whatever's tailing them, but god, fuck, it's getting worse. It's like he can feel it, every breeze and every sound setting him off. Why is the street so empty?