Author's Note: This chapter could have some potentially triggering content involving panic/anxiety. I had trouble writing it for that same reason.
Chapter Seven: Hide
He's not gonna show.
Doubt and worry surged through Jay as he sat in the ever-darkening parking lot. Kralie had left five minutes ago, taking – as Jay predicted – several other officers with him. Jay knew he had maybe twenty minutes, half an hour at most, before they caught on to what was happening.
Come on, Tim. Please.
The seconds trickled by, Jay's anxiety steadily mounting. He nearly jumped a foot when a knock on his car window startled him.
"Tim!" He scrabbled clumsily at the handle until he had the door open. "What are you – you came?"
"Yeah." Tim didn't look happy or proud of the fact. "Now let's hurry up and do this before I change my mind."
"Right, okay."
The station was dark, locked, and empty, just like Jay had hoped it would. Everything was going in line with his hastily constructed plan, which meant that something was probably going to go wrong very soon.
Right away, Tim got to work on the locks. Jay clicked on his flashlight and aimed it at the door to make his work easier.
"What made you change your mind?" Jay asked.
"All I want from this is what happened to Brian." Tim didn't even look up from his work. "Whenever you find out. Which you'd better."
The last sentence sounded more like a threat than encouragement, but Jay did his best to ignore it. Thankfully, he was saved from having to respond when the lock clicked and the door popped open.
"Thanks," Jay whispered. "I swear I'll get everything I can about Brian – "
"No." Jay looked up, confused. "I'm coming with you," Tim insisted fiercely. His glower cut short any further argument. Jay didn't press the point. They didn't have time.
They went through the records room, scanning the various shelves with rapidly building agitation.
"Nothing," Jay muttered. "There's nothing."
"Wait, why are we checking here?" Tim asked abruptly. "Why would Alex hide incriminating evidence in the most obvious place?"
"What are you saying?"
"If they're going to be anywhere, they'll be in his office."
"Do we have time?"
"We'd better. This is our only shot."
After locating the office with the worn plaque reading "Kralie," Tim immediately began working on those locks as well. Jay anxiously checked his watch. They had maybe five minutes, ten if they were lucky.
Come on, come on.
"Got it!"
Immediately they began yanking open file cabinets, flipping through half-completed reports, looking in every spot they could find until Jay was standing in the middle of his office, eyes desperately raking the area for any hope of finding something they hadn't searched yet.
"Hang on." Tim was rooting through Alex's bottom desk drawer. From underneath stacks of old papers, edges yellowing with age and disuse, he pulled out a small, admittedly much less beaten-looking box and opened it.
"Are those...?" Jay didn't complete the sentence. When he peered closer at box's contents, the answer was clear.
More tapes?
"These have to be them, right?" Tim asked. He actually sounded excited. "The tapes with Alex on them. They've got to be."
"Yeah." Jay nodded brusquely. They couldn't afford to second-guess. They were nearly out of time. He grabbed the box and tucked it securely under one arm, brandishing the flashlight with the other. "Let's go."
They had just gotten out of the station, Tim fumbling with the locks, when Jay was startled by a loud crash behind them. He glimpsed an indistinctly beige shape – the hooded person? – darting away from several fallen trashcans in front of the station.
He tensed, considering giving chase until he noticed that twin light beams were slicing through the dark, coming right at them. Soon two other pairs joined them.
"Headlights!" Jay hissed, tugging on Tim's shoulder.
"The locks aren't shut yet!"
"No time. Come on!"
Tim didn't budge. He stood, frozen, eyes wide, staring numbly at the unlocked and half-open doors.
"Tim, come on!" They couldn't afford to keep waiting. Jay grabbed the sleeve of Tim's jacket and half-pulled, half-dragged him down the steps and into the nearby bushes. They couldn't return to Jay's car, not with Kralie and several other cop cars so close by. It would be a dead giveaway.
Jay swiftly crouched to hide in the bushes, but Tim remained standing, as if in a state of shock. Jay had to grab him again and forcefully pull him to his knees to get him to hide.
Why isn't he – ?
Jay squinted through the darkness to see what was wrong with him. Soon he became aware that Tim was actually shaking, and it wasn't from the slight chill in the breeze. His eyes were still open and staring, pupils dilated, and his shoulders heaving as he sucked in gasps of air.
"Tim?" Jay breathed. "Tim, hey. You okay?"
No reply. Tim's heavy breathing and shivering only became more rapid.
Oh no.
"Tim, hey," he continued encouragingly. "You gotta stay quiet, okay? We gotta stay hidden."
Tim was still unresponsive. Jay had the awful feeling that he knew what was happening, and it wasn't good. Tim's knees suddenly gave way and he fell sideways onto Jay, who managed to roughly catch him. He didn't know what else to do but grimly hope that no one would notice them sprawled in the bushes. He could hear the not-very-distant voices of officers as they approached the station doors.
"What's going on?"
"Are those doors open?"
"We've had a break-in."
"Someone call it in!"
Fuck.
"Jay?" Tim whispered hoarsely, disrupting Jay's stream of thought.
"I'm right here."
"Jacket..."
"What?"
Tim tried to push a trembling hand into his jacket pocket. Jay understood and fished out what looked like a bottle of medication. He opened it and handed it back to Tim, who poured two small white capsules into his hand and dry-swallowed them. He leaned back against Jay's shoulder, eyes shut tight, breathing gradually slowing to a more reasonable rate.
"You okay?"
Tim shook his head jerkily, eyes still screwed shut. Jay took a moment to chance a quick look over the hedges to see what was going on. Most of the officers had fled into the station by now, and the ones that hadn't were looking in through the windows.
"Listen, we need to get out of here quick. We might not get another chance." Jay waited for the other man to agree. Tim gave a quick jerk of a nod.
"Come on." Jay tugged Tim to his feet, pulling one arm over his shoulders to support him. He had a very faint idea of where Tim's apartment was from here and how to get there by car, but there was no way he would be able to get the two of them into his car and drive off without being seen, especially with Tim in this state. But there was no other way he could see them getting out of this, so he started walking, working to keep Tim standing upright, all the while praying no one would see. He had the small box of tapes tucked securely underneath the arm that wasn't busy keeping Tim upright and walking forward.
Jay didn't know how long they walked down the eerily deserted road. It had apparently been long enough for each step forward to become an automatic response to the threat of danger that no longer felt real, far away as it was. Jay gradually began to tune out from his surroundings, so much so that he was surprised when Tim finally spoke.
"Thanks."
Jay struggled to find an appropriate answer, but came up empty.
"It's uh, no problem," he stammered out, keeping his eyes firmly on the road ahead of them.
"No, really." Tim was looking directly at Jay, pretty much forcing him to make eye contact. Jay was surprised that Tim was meeting his gaze fully. He never seemed to want to unless it was strictly necessary. "Thank you," Tim continued softly. "I was...that wasn't good back there, and you helped me out instead of ditching me. So thanks."
"Why would I ditch you?" Jay frowned.
"It's happened before."
Jay didn't really know what to say to that, so he let the conversation dwindle into silence. Eventually Tim shrugged his arm off from around Jay's shoulders so he could walk on his own.
It took them a long time (an uncomfortably long time) to get to Tim's apartment on foot, and Jay was relieved when Tim began steering them in the right direction. His sense of direction in a town he had barely been in was poor at best.
Once they reached his apartment, Tim began unlocking his door when he hesitated.
"Do you need to crash here?" he said delicately.
"Huh?"
"Your car is kind of, uh, all the way back at the station. Do you need to crash here?"
"Does that...is that okay?" Jay asked timidly.
Tim let out an impatient sigh. "You really think I would have asked if it wasn't? Look, you saved me from a panic attack tonight. I think that means I owe you."
"Um. Sure. I guess."
Tim inclined his head at the door.
"Come on, then."
Jay didn't know why he felt oddly comforted when Tim got him a blanket and pillow to sleep on the couch in his rather untidy living room, or why when Tim asked him if he needed anything else, Jay felt too choked up to say anything and could only shake his head mutely.
The answers to those questions later occurred to him as he stared at the ceiling at some ungodly hour in the morning, plagued by the familiar dragging sensation of being utterly unable to sleep. He realized that for the first time in a long, long while, possible medical emergencies and law-breaking circumstances aside, Jay might have managed to make a friend.
