It's nothing new, sure. They never addressed it but - it was always there, like the very tall elephant in the room. They were the only two people they knew who would get it, to some extent. Jay might not have grown up with the damn thing hanging over him, but he knew, he knew what it was like having that sliver of madness nestled behind every dream and breath and closed eye. That had always been a thing. And Tim had gotten that, however reluctantly, and sure, he'd avoided the subject whenever they could and talked circles around it and never really addressed it direct - but he got it.
They were the only two people in the world who might understand what the other is going through, always, perpetually, daily.
Except Alex. And Brian. And fuck lot of good either of them are doing now, huh. They're dead, Tim.
Because you fucking killed them. In cold blood.
So now he's shackled to Jay, more or less. They're not left with a whole lotta choice, really, since starting over is a doomed prospect and running away will only take them as far as the island limits. They're stuck here, together.
The air in this stupid little hotel room is too hot and too thick and too heavy, like everything Jay's spilling out got tangled up in it, saturating every breath with a dense significance he doesn't want to look at.
"Cute," he says dully. Something twists in his chest to say it. It's cruel. It's - well no shit Jay never breaks out this kind of sincerity if this is the only way Tim has to cope with it. He can't ignore this, he can't - do anything but force it roughly aside. Downplay whatever he has to acknowledge and disregard the rest. "Doesn't change anything. Whatever I do to keep that - thing from getting loose is my business."
no subject
They were the only two people in the world who might understand what the other is going through, always, perpetually, daily.
Except Alex. And Brian. And fuck lot of good either of them are doing now, huh. They're dead, Tim.
Because you fucking killed them. In cold blood.
So now he's shackled to Jay, more or less. They're not left with a whole lotta choice, really, since starting over is a doomed prospect and running away will only take them as far as the island limits. They're stuck here, together.
The air in this stupid little hotel room is too hot and too thick and too heavy, like everything Jay's spilling out got tangled up in it, saturating every breath with a dense significance he doesn't want to look at.
"Cute," he says dully. Something twists in his chest to say it. It's cruel. It's - well no shit Jay never breaks out this kind of sincerity if this is the only way Tim has to cope with it. He can't ignore this, he can't - do anything but force it roughly aside. Downplay whatever he has to acknowledge and disregard the rest. "Doesn't change anything. Whatever I do to keep that - thing from getting loose is my business."