The deliberate monotony Tim's taken pains to impose upon his life almost makes two months way too easy to imagine. His nine or ten days here feel longer than they were, dragged along by drawn-out nightmares and a dwindling supply of medication.

Tim's instinctive reaction is a thrill of concern - he can't be that easily pinned down, can he? - before it softens into something a little less cautious. Simple familiarity. Coincidence. He almost forgot that was a thing.

"Yeah." One corner of his mouth ticks up, a flickering, indecisive reaction. "Yeah, I'm from that, uh, general area, actually. Kind of moved around a bit, though." There's no point in masking it or trying to lie about his location - if Bee's really from around there, she's more or less confirmed it.