I coughed and clawed at Tim's hand as his grip continued to tighten. He pressed his weight against my larynx and I struggled to breathe. I couldn't move as I struggled to push him off. I felt tears fall from my eyes as I gave Tim a pleading look.

"Ti….m…. Ple….ase…" I choked out desperately. He tightened his grip even more.

"Don't…" He growled softly, dangerously. I continued to claw his hand, drawing blood with my nails.

"Ti-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" he shouted, tightening his grip even more. I choked out a scream as he raised his fist, ready to strike me. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the blow, but it never came. I waited, but nothing happened. Even the grip on my neck was starting to loosen. I opened my eyes and saw the pained, restraining look on Tim's face; his face turning red with effort as he shakily loosened his grip on my neck. I looked at his eyes, one was blue, but the other was light brown.

"Tim…?" I rasped, unsure of what to do.

"…An…a ….Run…!" he breathed out, strained and pleading, as if he was struggling to even speak.

I nodded and gave him an apologetic look as I swiftly and simultaneously lifted a swift knee to his groin and shoved him off of me. I shot up in that instant and started to run, ignoring the difficulty I had taking in breaths, ignoring the roar of pain and anger that sounded behind me, ignoring the cramping, burning pain in my legs that threatened to cripple me once more. I just fucking ran.

I didn't spare a look back as I reached the staircase. Not trusting my legs, which were feeling the mounting pain of my injury with each passing second, I slid down the wide banister, thankful that it was polished smooth. As I jumped off the banister, my legs gave way and I tumbled down the second flight of stairs. I instinctively covered my face as I rolled down the stairs, my back hitting something incredibly hard. I coughed, all the air knocked out of me. I felt so dizzy and light headed, I struggled to keep my eyes open. I felt hands patting my back roughly and lifting me to my feet. I stood, but the pain was too much, and I collapsed. I groaned in pain, my legs spasming violently. The last few days had finally taken their toll on my legs.

"Fuck…" I groaned. I was in so much pain, that I barely felt myself being lifted into someone's arms. I felt so dizzy, it took every ounce of concentration I had to not faint, barely registering the static that was sounding around me in an angry hum.

I felt myself being lightly jostled, re-positioned to rest on someone's back piggyback style. I held on tightly, unable to really move my legs, as the figure in question began to bolt. I kept my eyes shut, focusing on the sounds around me through the static. I heard two sets of footsteps behind us, chasing us in an urgent manner. The static was growing louder when I suddenly heard the slam of a door and felt the cool evening air hit my sweat sheened face. I smelled the dirt and dewy scent of grass as the figure who carried me kept running.

After a while, the footsteps behind us started to fade, as well as the static. That's when I noticed that the sounds around us changed. My savior's footsteps sounded hollow and echoed, as if we were inside a concrete cave. I squinted my eyes open; I saw a rounded, concave cement wall. Opening my eyes a little more, I realized we were inside what I assume to be a large tunnel. It was eerily dark and silent. And I mean dead silent, as if we were in a soundproof room. Only my savior's footsteps could be heard. No wind or birds. Nothing. Even our breathing seemed to disappear. It was almost like the space within the tunnel were eating the ambient sounds. I lifted my head slightly to look at my rescuer. He wore a dingy grayish blue hoodie and a brown jacket with striped sleeves over it. I couldn't see very much else besides the back of his head. He was thin, that much I know, and pretty strong to be this tall, string bean of a guy and be able to lift me so easily. But then again I wasn't really heavy. He slowed his pace to a walk, his head suddenly jerking to the side and soft clicking sounds coming from his throat. I flinched at the sudden movement and he stopped. I felt his fingers methodically twitch under my thighs, jerky and almost strained, as if he didn't have any control over it. After a few minutes, his body relaxed and he started to walk again.

"Sorry…" he murmured softly, the space absorbing the words quickly. I said nothing.

After what felt like an eternity, we finally exited the tunnel. It was like a complete aura shift, and I sighed in relief. My legs, though throbbing painfully, were no longer spasming. I didn't trust myself to walk yet, and it didn't seem like this guy was going to let go of me just yet. We walked on in silence, his head pricking up every so often to listen out for any foreign sounds. We would top every once in a while, due to his spasms and tics; the clicking and twitching that made his body tense, as if he were concentrating on not dropping me. I figured, after the fourth time this happened, that he has Tourette's syndrome or something. I vaguely remembered knowing someone when I was a kid that had Tourette's. He was a good friend of mine and a playmate, despite being two grades above me at the time. We kept in contact through phone calls and letters after his family moved from the city to the suburbs when we were in middle school. But after some time, we fell out of touch. The last I heard of him, him and his sister were in a horrid car crash, and his sister died from her injuries. I cried horribly for them, having flashbacks from when mom and I had our car accident, which only happened a few months before he moved away. I tried to email and write to him, tried to reach out to him in the only way I knew how, but I never got a reply. I still hope to this day that he is doing okay.

My savior's pace began to slow as we made our way to a collection of boulders that seemed too perfectly set. He crouched carefully, setting me down to sit on the lowest stone. I loosened my grip on him and sighed, looking at him warily. He walked around the perimeter of our location, listening tensely for any followers or intruders. When he deemed that there were no interlopers in our vicinity, he relaxed fully. He turned to face me, and I was immediately on high alert; his skin was extremely pale, his face half hidden in a vertically blue and white striped bandana and his eyes covered with golden mirror lens goggles. His shaggy brown hair peeked out from under his hood. I swallowed when I realized that he had two steel hatchets holstered on his waist. He had one hand completely bandaged and another hand covered in a black worn leather glove. He stepped close to me, and I scooted back, only to be halted by the pain in my crippled legs.

He suddenly held his hands up. "Hey, r-r-relax! I'm not guh-going to hurt you. I couldn't even if I-I wanted to." His voice was calm and gentle, almost friendly and familiar. I swallowed, still tense. He kept his hands up and walked around me clockwise. I kept my eyes on him, keeping tense and wary. He leaned down slowly behind the boulder, one hand still raised and the other reaching slowly down for something. I opened my mouth, prepared to scream when he lifted his hand and brought up my guitar case. A gasp caught in my throat and joy flooded through me.

"I just th-thought you may wanted to take this w-with you home." He said with a stutter. I was stunned.

"I… I can go home?" I breathed as I took my hard case from the guy's hands, and not a moment too soon as his hand began to twitch again.

He nodded at me and his cheeks rose, as if he were smiling. "Yeah, you c-can go home. I'm n-n-not like Hoodie, whose com-completely under control, or like Mah-Masky, who fights it. I accept what I a-am, and can somehow find a mi-mi-middle ground." He twitched again, his head jerking off to the side again. I winced as a sudden crack sounded from his head snapping. He winced too and murmured an "ouch".

"Have you always had those ticks?" I asked softly. He stood silent for a moment, his brow furrowed. I couldn't tell if what I said annoyed him or if he was just in thought.

"Have I? I wonder..." he said softly. He then shook his head and sat next to me on the boulder. He didn't sit close, which was good considering I didn't really trust this guy. We sat in silence, the sky's hues, instead of growing darker, were growing lighter. Shit, was it morning?!

"Well fuck…" I sighed. The guy looked at me and tilted his head inquisitively.

"My brothers. I live with them; they're kind of my legal guardians. They're probably freaking out that I didn't come home yesterday. Shit on a brick" I rubbed my face with agita. The guy chuckled.

"'Shit on a brick' huh? I used to kn-know someone who said that a lot…" he leaned back on his arms and pushed his goggles up revealing grayish-green eyes. I frowned softly. His eyes were so familiar. And now that I think about it, so were his mannerisms. I shook my head. There was no way…

"Hey, W-what is your name?" he asked me. I started, jolted out of my thoughts by his sudden question.

"…Ana." I said, slightly unhinged by the suddenness of his question. His brows furrowed.

"' Ana'? like in 'Anarchy?" I nodded and his eyes lit up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two cards. He handed them to me.

"I think these are yours. It's fuh-funny… I knew someone a long time ago that had a name like yours… bu-but I d-d-don't think you're that person… the last time I saw her, sh-she was in a wheelchair." He said softly and almost sadly. My eyes widened as a sudden realization flooded me. It couldn't be… there's no way in hell that it could be…!

He sat up at the sudden look on my face, his eyes full of concern and alertness. "Ana? What's wrong?" he came closer, and I instinctively scooted away, falling to the ground. He was on his feet in an instant and he crouched over me, holding me upright and his eyes full of worry.

"Ana?" he said his face close to mine, examining me. I lifted my hand shakily and gently pulled down his bandana. He flinched, but didn't stop me. I looked at his bare face and felt the tears instantly well in my eyes. Oh my god. It was him.

"…T-Toby? Ticci Toby?"