It is what it is: a fic detailing what happened after an angry Jay ran from a confused and deceptive Tim.
Bad Tim.
Disclaimer: If I owned the rights to Marble Hornets, your hearts wouldn't be shattered at the moment. Trust me.
"Jay, wait!"
"Don't follow me!"
Tim slumped back against the floor he was sprawled across, body aching and mind reeling as his companion's words hit him like a sack of bricks.
"Jay!" Tim called again at the top of his lungs, voice ragged. He waited several long moments, the silence of the empty house suffocating him.
There was no response.
Muttering curses under his breath, Tim hauled himself up, leaning against a wall for support. He hated to admit it, but Jay's attack had left him sore and aching - the smaller man was surprisingly powerful for someone who appeared to be so weak and frail.
Of course, that wasn't his top priority at the moment. He didn't know how hurt he really was and frankly, he didn't exactly care. Right now, he had more important things than himself to worry about.
Like the fact that Jay was gone, and he was alone. Again.
Not to mention that the other man's final words before his rage-filled departure had practically been a slap to the face. Jay might as well have just shot him in the chest; Tim was almost positive that would've been better than the regret he was being overwhelmed with at the moment.
Jesus, he knew that hiding the tape from Jay was the right decision, but even so, the way his former friend had screamed at him made him feel like it was the absolute opposite of the right decision: like it was worse than the 'wrong decision,' even.
Tim fell back against the wall with a heavy sigh, allowing his sleep-deprived eyes to flutter shut for just a moment. What was he supposed to have done, just given Jay the tape? Just let him see the contents of it? No, he never would have done that. Even now, after seeing the anger and hurt and betrayal Jay had displayed when he discovered that Tim had been in possession of the object the entire time, he wouldn't have just given the other man the film. It was too devastating, even after all they had been through. Hell, if it had affected Tim the way it had, how was Jay going to react once he watched it?
He knew he probably shouldn't have been as concerned as he was, but he couldn't help it. By all rights, Tim should have been absolutely furious that Jay had jumped him so viciously and impatiently and then ran off without even giving him the chance to explain himself, but he wasn't. On the contrary, a tight knot of worry and fear had formed in his stomach when Jay had made his leave, endless scenarios forming in Tim's head: none of which ended well. What if the man had really lost it? What if the contents of the tape pushed him past the breaking point? What if he ran off and got himself hurt, or worse, decided to try and hurt himself?
What if he came into contact with Alex and that…thing, yet again?
Tim slumped forward and held his head in his hands, rubbing at his temples in a vain attempt to quell the throbbing pain building up there. Unfortunately for him, it was no use; he'd be having another week-long migraine, no doubt.
He still couldn't stop Jay's last words from replaying again and again inside his head. He'd sounded so utterly betrayed, so hurt, each syllable dripping with venom. Tim hadn't missed to ragged crack that had dominated the small man's voice towards the end of his shouting, either.
And if his thinking was correct, that meant that Jay was devastated that Tim was keeping something from him, and that Jay cared as much about him as he did about Jay.
"God damn it!" Tim snarled, slamming his fist down on a wall brutally, causing the already old plaster to crack and break away in places. Why did he fuck everything up?! He was a grown man, and now that Jay was gone, he didn't have a single person to call a friend, or anything close to it.
Alone again!
Somewhere in the back of his mind, a smug sort of bitter satisfaction had formed, though he was absolutely certain it didn't belong to him.
Oh, yes, he knew exactly who's it was.
"To Hell with you!" Tim shouted aloud to no one in particular, seeing that the target of his rage didn't have a physical form, anyway. "Months and months of peace, and you're just going to decide to pop in?!"
Serves you right, a smooth voice seemed to purr, tone edged like a blade. Whoever it was probably hadn't really said anything at all, but it sure felt like it had. Oh, yes, he was definitely taunting him; speaking, and yet keeping his silence at the same time, the little bastard.
Did we not agree, such a long time ago, to be alone together?
Tim clutched at his head, the agony there intensifying dizzily, and sank to the floor, finding his legs were unable to support his body's weight anymore. A low moan of pain escaped him, thoughts spinning out of control.
You broke your promise, Timothy.
"I never promised you shit!" the man screamed, head exploding in protest. Why was this happening now, of all times? Why was he back?! "Never!"
He was a distraction. You are not allowed to have companions. I thought I had made that clear.
"Fuck…off-!"
A wave of visceral rage blossomed at the back of Tim's consciousness, stunning him for several long moments. The sensation brought forth another wracking shot of pain, and he gripped his head in his hands, knuckles white with tension. The soundless voice returned, words icy and furious, demanding and accusing.
We were both supposed to be alone!
Tim groaned, forcing himself to take deep breaths and fight off the blackout that he felt was fast-approaching.
Both of us!
Another surge of nausea and agony, causing him to curl into himself.
You broke the rules, Timothy!
Without any warning, Tim's splitting migraine subsided back to a dull throbbing, his body relatively returning to normal. The abrupt change left the man shivering uncontrollably, breaths shaky and shallow, head still clutched in his hands. Was this some sort of sick game to the other?
A heavy sense of perverse pleasure settled at the back of his mind, and if he hadn't known better, he would have sworn the "voice" chuckled.
It's okay…I forgive you.
Tears formed in Tim's eyes without his consent, spilling down over his cheeks as he collapsed to the floor. He couldn't do this, not now. He just didn't have the strength. He didn't. He couldn't take this.
After all, it's just us now. Your little Jaybird certainly won't be returning to you anytime soon, my friend.
The presence's words were a stab to the chest; a bitter reminder of what Tim already knew, but didn't want to admit: Jay would not be coming back.
I'll take care of you, I promise. Just rest, Timothy.
He didn't want to - really he didn't - but he couldn't stop himself from listening to the other's falsely comforting words. He needed to sleep; he deserved it. He'd been through so much shit in the past few months. Surely a little bit of sleep couldn't hurt? He needed it so bad…
Everything will be just fine.
Tim felt his eyes droop shut, exhaustion overtaking him. Sleep would be nice, he had to admit…And if Jay wanted to run off and insist that he was the bad guy, who was he to stop him? Jay could take care of himself for once. Right now, Tim was going to rest. He deserved it, after all.
For the first time in his life, he didn't struggle as he felt a shadow smother his consciousness and take control, dragging him into a land of blissful unawareness.
And a small part of him was secretly pleased to be relieved of having to think.
"I can't believe him…"
Incoherent muttering filled Jay's motel room, originating from the thin man himself.
"Lying to me…hiding things from me…"
He sighed and collapsed onto his bed, rubbing at his eyes. He was so tired…but there was no way he would be sleeping anytime soon. Jay hadn't slept properly in months; that certainly wasn't going to change tonight, especially after all that happened earlier that day.
"Damn Tim…"
How could he? After all the things the two of them had been through together, and he just decided to throw whatever mutual trust they had away!
It was ridiculous and unfair, for Tim to have done what he did. Hiding the tape, when he knew how important it was to Jay…
He lifted his head from his hands, eyes landing on the little object that seemed so very insignificant. It was just sitting there on the nightstand, waiting. Waiting for Jay to pick it up and watch its dreadful content.
A pang of apprehension shot through the man's stomach as he thought about all of the reasons why Tim might have been trying to keep the footage from him. What could it possibly have on it that was so important that Tim felt the need to hide it away from him?
He let out a heavy sigh. It didn't matter; what Tim had done was inexcusable. Whatever was on that tape, Jay had a right to see it. It wasn't up to Tim to decide what Jay could and couldn't watch, no matter how horrible. After all, that tape had answers of some kind. The hooded man that had left it always seemed to know a lot more about everything that was happening, and if he wanted Jay to see the footage, then there had to be something important on it.
Something undeniably, horribly important.
And he wasn't sure if he wanted to see it yet.
Of course, he was relieved to have the tape in his possession and knew that he would have to watch it eventually, but something about it didn't feel right. He didn't feel like he could just sit down and view the footage like he would have any other time.
"'Oh sure, let me just go ahead and watch the most important thing in my entire life like it's no big deal,'" Jay snorted bitterly, mocking himself. "What a great idea…"
With a grunt, he lifted himself off the bed and walked into the motel room's tiny bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. God, he was a mess. He was already naturally pale and thin, but the last few stress-filled months hadn't exactly helped him appear any healthier. The dark circles that underlined his eyes certainly hadn't always been there.
Just looking at himself made him wonder once again how strangers could ignore him like he was any other normal person. Could no one tell that he was a broken mess? Did absolutely no one, not one person, ever look at him and think, "What's wrong with him?" A few years ago, if Jay had seen someone that looked the way he did now, he would certainly be a little bit suspicious.
Then again, not much made sense since everything had started falling apart. Maybe Jay was just crazy; that would be a logical enough explanation. Maybe someone had had him thrown into a mental hospital a long time ago, and all that was happening was just one big, sick dream conjured up by his own mind.
The thought made him laugh aloud dryly and hold his head in his hands, tears welling up in his eyes.
It was so unfair. Everything was so unfair. He hadn't wanted this, any of this. Brian, Seth, Amy, Jessica…three of whom were dead now and the fourth was probably the one running around in a hoodie, and Jay still wasn't sure just who's side they were on. Alex had officially lost it, and was likely hunting him down at that very moment. And Tim…Jay wasn't sure what to think about Tim anymore. Sometimes it seemed as if he could genuinely help him, but now…
Now Jay was alone, again. And…and he was fine with that; being alone was better than placing false trust into someone who was just going to stab him in the back later. Being alone meant he had himself, and he could always rely on himself.
Jay sighed, wiping at his eyes, and exited his room to wander outside the motel for a while, deciding it might help him clear his thoughts. He wouldn't need his camera; it wasn't all that late, and there would be people nearby to witness it if the tall man showed up.
He could watch the tape later. Everything would be fine then. Everything. But right now, he had to keep his attention focused on his surroundings.
He could be anywhere, after all.
