You Fell Asleep In My Car,

I Drove the Whole Time

But That's Ok, I'll Just Avoid

The Holes So You'll Sleep Fine

Three years.

Tim honestly thought he would have been dead right now, shot or stabbed and left to die somewhere, if not left to rot in prison or mental asylum for the rest of his days. Before this - or, at least, most of this - he might have preferred it. He would have at least been guaranteed three meals a day, a roof over his head and a room somewhat to himself. But, now - well, he couldn't really say he would've changed this for that. Especially with a sleeping Brian, whose back was pressed firmly against his side as he slept, facing the door with Tim lying on his back and arm curled around him as tightly as possible. And, naturally, the much taller Brian was attempting to use as much of Tim as a pillow as possible and almost awkwardly as possible; head torn between laying on his bicep and shoulder with his arms tightly latching upon Tim's lower arm and firmly preventing him from escaping.

God, why was he so adorable when he slept?

Tim shifted as slowly as he could, until his front was gently pressed against the other's back. Brian shifted in sleep, muttering something as his head gently slipped from the other's shoulder and onto the pillow below. Tim was just glad he didn't wake up; though he couldn't say he was wholly glad of Brian grabbing onto the arm that curled around his chest, body backing up firmly against the other. He might have been risking a bathroom trip later else he woke up Brian - but for him, Tim couldn't really say he minded at this point.

So long as Brian was there, everything was going to be alright.

When they were called, there was no shouting, no banging of doors or windows or feet pounding against old, decaying wood that belonged to the rickety floors, no voices screeching and groaning in their minds and calling out to them. Instead, there was static and silence.

Tim's head lifted from his pillow, body tensing as the sound filled every crevice of his mind. Brian's brow furrowed as he looked up from his book to the door, before sighing and moving from Tim's grasp and off the bed. Tim followed suit quickly, grabbing his mask off of the bedside table as Brian pulled his own mask over his head and exited the door with Tim - Masky close behind.

The house was eerily quiet as they tramped through the hall and down the stairs. If not asleep, then the residents that frequented here were likely out doing god knows what. And Masky was sure that if they were anything like him, then he didn't want to know (especially with Laughing Jack and Eyeless Jack; he had read up enough on the two to know he definitely did not want to know). Downstairs was in a similar state, except -

Hoody reached out an arm to stop Masky in his tracks as they entered the living room. Masky opened his mouth to complain, however snapped his lips shut as Hoody gestured to a figure sitting in the far corner; arms wrapped around their legs and face hidden in their knees as they sat, back heaving as if having trouble breathing - or an anxiety attack, which seemed to be quite common among some of the residents here. They weren't wearing any clothes that made them easily identifiable as to who it might be. The grey and blue striped jacket they wore was in tatters, alongside the jeans and sneakers they wore. Only a few here wore jackets constantly, and even Masky made those identifying features for those who did (Jeff and Hoody especially, considering they rarely took theirs off).

"The hell're you?" Masky all but spat, earning the figure's attention quickly.

Eyes widened through oranges goggles instantly stared up at him as the figure - a young man, if not a boy by either of their standards, Masky quickly deduced - with their mouth covered by a face mask that was otherwise black besides the opened smile seemingly sketched onto it. The teenager quickly tried to huddle further into the corner he was sitting in, looking in between the two wearily as Hoody turned his head to Masky to give him a stern look. Masky opened his mouth to speak once more, to demand a response from this stranger -

"One of you, my child," came the eerie voice of the Operator as he carefully maneuvered his way from the kitchen to stand at their sides. The kid in the corner was visibly trembling now, eyes locked on the Tall Man as Masky and Hoody gave him questioning looks.

"You mean - a Proxy?" Masky asked slightly. He looked to the kid then, eyes narrowing. "He looks like a kid - not a cold blooded killer."

"You would be surprised," Slenderman mused as he practically glided his way past the other two towards the teen; of whom tried his damndest to curl further into his little corner and caused the Tall Man to stop a few feet short of him. "Regardless," Slender went on, turning his head back towards the other two, "he will need help adjusting to this life. He has minimal memories of his previous life, that I made sure of. You two will keep an eye on him until he is ready to join you in the field."

"What? So we're babysitters now?" Masky scoffed even as Hoody cautiously made his way beside their leader. "Couldn't you just have BEN or someone else help him 'adjust'?"

"Considering he is more human than that," the Operator hummed, turning and easily gliding back to where Masky still stood between the kitchen door and small hallway to the front door, "and you two are more - sound of mind, I should say, then BENjamin or the others when it comes to dealing with humans, I find it more suitable that you two become his caretakers for the time being."

Masky had little time to complain further; the Operator moving swiftly to the front door and then out and leaving the three in utter silence. Masky found himself fuming at the thought. Of course he would ask them to babysit! It wasn't like Slender knew exactly how to care for humans properly, and of course he'd want them to aid the other in being a Proxy even though he and Hoody had to figure it out mostly on their own (they had each other; but it was still a totally different story entirely when dealing and working with an Eldritch entity). Masky supposed it wouldn't be too bad. At least Brian - erhm, Hoody - would be there to help, and perhaps he could persuade him to take on the bulk of the responsibility, at least anything other than physical training (of which Masky could easily handle).

"Ge-get aw-away fr-from me!"

The sudden new voice snapped Masky both from his thoughts and from the door which he had unknowingly been glaring at as he thought. His gaze shifted back to the corner where the teen sat, only to find him still there - yet Hoody had moved to almost right in front of the other and had squatted down, arms slung over his own thighs with his head tilted to one side as if curious or examining the other. Masky huffed and moved towards the other two, only for Hoody's head to whip around and surprising the other two as he shook his head quickly. Masky's face scrunched up under his mask, but did as he was 'told'; stopping close to the middle of the room and putting his hands in his pockets as Hoody's stare returned to the teen.

"I-i -," the teen stuttered, curling more into himself as he too focused his attention on Hoody once more. He gulped, as if unable to find words as his body trembled in what was most likely fright and confusion. "... I-I want t-to go," he said simply; yet Masky felt himself understanding more than he would have liked.

"Don't we all, kid?" he scoffed, again earning the boy's attention. His face seemed to scrunch up in some form of hate and annoyance.

"I-I'm n-not a ki-kid," he stuttered out. "I-I'm n-ni-ninet-teen."

"Still a kid t' me," Masky again scoffed with a shrug, earning him another quick 'glare' from Hoody. The teen still glared, though his vision only stayed on Masky momentarily before looking back to Hoody.

"I-I sai-said, get a-away," he practically hissed, brown eyebrows furrowed in hate. Yet Hoody still remained, albeit his head was no longer tilted to the side.

"Not until you get up, kid," Masky mused. "We were kinda in the middle of, you know, trying to sleep when the big buy decided to drop you in our care. Besides, considering he didn't say where your room was, I'm guessin' you're stayin' with us until you get one and you kinda need to know where your room is."

Hoody stood up at that, causing the teen to jump slightly - and then momentarily flinch as a glove covered hand was reached out to him, signaling that Hoody wanted to help the poor kid to his feet. The teen in question stared up at the other, seemingly baffled at such a kind gesture. Then, slowly, hesitantly, his own gloved hand reached out to Hoody's; taking it and allowing himself to be half pulled up onto somewhat wobbly legs.

It was then that Masky realized, in the dim light filtering from the kitchen and what little light seeped through the window from the moon, that there appeared to be burn marks on varying parts of the teen's clothing; if not burned black, then gaping holes where a fire of some sort took hold. That must have been part of his story somehow, Masky mused as the other two's hands dropped and Hoody motioned for the teen to follow him. Brown eyes under his orange goggles darted to the other to, then to the door and back as if thinking of a means of escape.

"Don't try it, kid," Masky spoke. "There won't be many places you can hide in his domain, trust me. And it's not like you'll know how to get out."

"Hi-his do-domain?" the teen stuttered, hesitantly following Hoody who had patiently paused to wait for him; Masky turning towards the stairs to make his way up them when both chose to actually follow. "Y-you me-mean we're n-not - not o-on Earth any-anymore?"

Hoody's shoulders shook, as if laughing at the other's words.

"Yes and no, I guess," Masky shrugged; footfalls inching closer to him and suggesting the other two were actually following now. "It's a different dimension, I think - but it's still earth, as far as I can tell. We still get regular seasons and day and night cycles at the same time as when we're - well, in the upper world, I guess."

Their footsteps were loud as they thudded up the stairs; Masky first, followed by the hesitant new Proxy and Hoody close behind, as if Hoody was keeping the other from actually darting out the front door like he had earlier thought. The teen still looked over his shoulder at the other even as they ascended to the landing and down the morbidly dark hallway which seemed to continue indefinitely.

"Yo-you me-mean we-we're in -?"

"Why the hell're you still stutterin'?" Masky cut in. "I know the big guy's scary as all hell, but trust me - we aren't gonna kill 'r hurt you, or else we would've already."

"I-It's a con-condition," the teen practically spat; the venom in his voice that had suddenly stepped in front of his small, shaking tone that surprised even Masky and made him glance back at the other. His brow was furrowed, and if Masky would have to guess, he had a scowl underneath that Mask.

"Ah, well, my apologies."

The teen still glared at him even as Masky turned attention back to the hallway in front - and then their door as he stopped in front of it. It was Masky's turn to glare when the kid ran into his back with an 'oof,' followed by a muttered apology. Masky only shook his head before opening their door and slinking his way in.

Their room was quite boring, really. Aside from the three beds (one having been more than unused as there had only been two of them for the longest time; Brian's had long since been unused once the two had started sharing a bed, however the bed was still nicely made with blankets and a couple of pillows if one ever needed it), two bedside tables and two dressers, it was otherwise barren of any furniture. Neither Brian, Tim or their alter egos really needed much besides what they were given, and so while others of the household decorated their rooms to their heart's content, theirs stayed bland and boring. Which was all fine and dandy by them, really. Didn't want it feeling too much like home when they were for certain the house itself was merely their keeper until they met their deaths.

"You can have the bed we haven't been using," Masky informed as he made his way over to his - and essentially Hoody's - bed as he nodded to the barren one near the window. "Think there's extra blankets in the hall closet - uh, Hoods?"

The man in the mustard colored hoodie nodded, leaving the room temporarily from where he had come in behind the boy to retrieve what Masky spoke of. Said kid made his way hesitantly into the center of the room after Hoody left, eyes travelling around its barren interior.

"Se-Seems co-cozy," he muttered after a moment, finally taking the hood that hid his head to reveal messy, curly brown locks.

He was quiet for a moment as Masky watched him closely, sitting on the edge of his bed with his arms resting on his legs. This kid was tall, he had to admit. Not entirely taller than Hoody, but surely taller than Masky. And his jacket practically clung to his slender looking frame. Hell, he was even surprised that the teen's pants had held up for so long without a belt. Was this kid starved or something back home? He assumed he wouldn't ever know, considering the Operator had spoken of taking most of his memories. And when the goggles went up, they revealed his eyes to be less orange and more a bright green with obvious bags underneath them.

The teen finally broke his gaze away from the room itself and Tim from the teen as Hoody returned, gesturing the blankets he held in his arms to the teen. They were all one bland color, but Masky assumed it didn't quite matter what color the sheets and bedspread were; they would likely still get stained with blood from their kills eventually. The kid muttered a thanks as he moved to his 'new' bed; Hoody moving to his old bed and grabbing the pillows and dropping them at the kid's bedside as he began to make his bed, who muttered more thanks in return.

"Trust me," Masky spoke as the kid finished with the fitted sheet and moved for the other sheet where he piled them atop the pillows, grabbing for the cigarettes on his bedside table as Hoody plopped down beside him, "it won't be too bad from here on out. At least - I mean - you won't get killed by the big guy if you play your cards right."

Hoody turned his head to give him another presumed glare as Masky shrugged, lifting his mask up enough to show his lips and placing a cigarette between them before switching the pack itself for his lighter.

"Th-the bi-big guy," the kid spoke slowly, turning his face towards the two for a second as he spoke. "Yo-you me-mean the fa-faceless ma-man, right?"

"The big guy, Slenderman, the Faceless One, the Operator, the Tall Man, Slendy," Masky said with a shrug, taking a puff of his now lit cigarette as he sat the light back down with his pack. "We all have different names for him around here." The teen's body tensed up right before he finished with the sheet, eyes slightly wide as he looked back at the two again.

"'W-we al-all'? Yo-you mean th-there's mo-more people li-like us he-here?"

"Not quite like us," Masky shrugged as Hoody shook his head. "I mean, all of 'em are insane killers, yeah. But they're not Proxys." Hoody elbowed Masky then, earning a, "What?" before ashing his cigarette and another shrug in return.

The teen only nodded in response, moving to return to his task of making his bed as the other two silently sat; a gloved hand moving onto Masky's thigh of which he placed his own hand over while he smoked with the other. At least the kid wasn't trying to run or anything; Masky figured he would have by now, considering his earlier eyeing of the front door. But he wasn't going to be the one to chase after the kid; there were enough monsters that resided here that could easily kill him, and he didn't feel like running into one in the forest that would easily kill him without the remorse or hesitancy as did the others here (though Masky had long since blamed that on the Operator; while disposable, he wasn't likely going to be happy if one of his little Proxys were to wind up dead by one of their hands).

It wasn't until the teen spoke again, his cigarette almost gone and Hoody having rested his head on Masky's shoulder, that Masky remembered that he was still even there.

"I-I'm To-Tobias."

"Do what?" Masky blinked, deciding to put out his cigarette then so he wouldn't accidentally burn the bed sheets (Brian was still miffed about the last time, he was sure).

"M-my na-ame," the teen stuttered, moving to sit down carefully on his now neatly made bed with Hoody seemingly waking up from his small nap, "i-it's To-Tobias Ro-Rodgers. Bu-but you ca-can call me To-Toby."

It seemed to take Masky another moment to register what the teen - Toby - had said to him, and another moment with an added bump from Hoody to realize that he was actually supposed to respond.

"Call me Masky," the masked man replied as he put out his cigarette in the ashtray on his bedside table. "And this here's Hoody." He gestured to the figure beside him, who gave a half hearted wave with his 'free' hand. Toby snorted.

"Wow, s-so cr-creative," he spoke as his worn tennis shoes were kicked off his feet and half heartedly shoved underneath his newly claimed bed before he swung his legs atop the creaky mattress. "Th-think I'm go-gonna go t-to bed," Toby muttered as he laid his lanky frame down and turned so his back faced the other two.

Masky couldn't find it in himself to blame him, he mused as he reached to turn off the lamp at his bedside table. Hoody shuffled to the inside of the bed and laid down as Masky shifted to lay himself down as well in the hopes of slumber quickly coming to them. His own mask was removed and sat back in its previous place as he shifted to face the other figure; arms wrapped slowly around his waist and latched on almost protectively. Masky - Tim hummed at the feeling as he wrapped an arm of his own around the other, the feeling of a lightly beard covered face making him shudder lightly at the contact as it rubbed against his cheek.

Yes, this would be fine. Everything would be fine.

Morning came faster than Tim would've liked. He had to stifle the groan that threatened to escape his lips as he stretched his short, bulky frame. Brian shifted beside him, the arms wrapped around his waist tightening as he gave a quiet whimper in his sleep and nuzzled his face further into the crook of Tim's neck. The raven haired man had to now stifle a giggle at the facial hair that rubbed against his bare neck. Tim shifted as so his back faced the door, arms wrapping around Brian and earning an almost content sigh as his head nuzzled its way under Tim's chin; again, Tim found himself having to stifle a giggle at the feeling of Brian's scruff against his bare skin. Waking up like this, next to someone as the sun slowly rose above the horizon, felt more comforting than it should have. But his burly frame felt like mush in the other's arms, as lovey dovey as that sounded. But it was as if Brian had brought that out in him. Brian brought out a lot of odd things out in Tim, the majority of which Tim had only allowed Brian to see.

It had been almost eight months - Tim had aptly kept track better than had kept track of anything else anymore, it seemed - since that beautiful day, since they had become one. And while they lived in an eternal hell (literally; they nor anyone else seemed to age once they came into contact with the Operator or whatever they went through to gain their abilities, so both he and Brian assumed they would remain ageless until the end of time or until the Tall Man decided to dispose of them), Tim thought he could make it until the end of time. So long as Brian would have him for that long, of course.

A sound from somewhere else in the room caused Tim to tense. At first, his mind didn't recall the night prior as it raced. Visions of something crawling through the window to slit their throats, or one of the other residents playing a not so innocent trick. He was glad he was in front of Brian then, acting as a shield from whatever was coming at them -

Only to realize as he was already half reaching for his mask on the bedside table and knife hidden away in the drawer when he saw Toby lying with his back still to them. The events of the night prior came flooding back to him instantly, though did nothing to quell his rising nerves.

Toby was not stationary; tossing and twitching all the while still in a deep sleep. And - he was whimpering? Tim's face contorted from anger and concern to confusion, heart still racing but frame otherwise deathly still as he stared. He contemplated waking the other, though unsure of the reaction he'd receive. Especially with the hatchet that lay beside the brunette in his bed. Must've retrieved it as a weapon, which Tim frankly couldn't blame him for. He slept with varying weaponry hidden around the room, after all. Couldn't quite trust any of the residents to not try and kill you in your sleep; at least not without a weapon handy.

The bed creaked as Brian shifted slightly atop him, eye cracking open ever so slightly as he too seemed to wake due to the commotion (or due to his new pillow having moving him to such an odd angle, one couldn't be too sure), only to grow visibly more concerned at the sight before him.

"Is he alright?" Brian asked softly, brow furrowing as he shifted until he was sitting up while staring at the other, concerned.

"I think," muttered Tim in response as he slowly, carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed while simultaneously grabbing his mask to put on.

Brian quickly joined him. Faster than Tim could react, however, Brian was out of bed and practically tiptoeing across the room - face mask not even properly on - and over to Toby's bed to stand hesitantly next to it. Tim stood instantly as his mask was slipped on, eyes still trained on the hatchet that lay beside the teen.

"Brian," Tim practically hissed.

But of course Brian didn't listen, a hand landing onto Toby's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze and shake. Before he could speak, the new Proxy shot up with a sudden shout, eyes wide as a heavily shaking hand fumbled to attempt to grasp his weapon with little luck. Tim strode forward swiftly then as Brian tried to calm the new kid, grabbing the hatchet just as Toby barely managed to grasp at it in time.

"I wouldn't try anything with us," Tim - Masky spoke sternly just as Toby pushed himself so he sat with his back against the wall, knees curled up into his chest and arms wrapped tightly around them. "It'll end up way worse for you, trust me."

Toby merely sniffled in response as Brian straightened, giving Masky a sideways glare before returning his attention to Toby again.

"Don't listen to him," Brian said. "He can be a grouch sometimes, but his bark is worse than his bite." It was Masky's turn to glare at Brian, though went unnoticed as he continued to speak. "Hey, how about breakfast? I'm sure we can whip up some bacon or waffles or som-"

"Waffles?!" Toby perked up instantly, any fear and confusion he had gone. He almost seemed excited about them.

Masky grumbled as he took an annoyed step back while Brian offered Toby a hand which he gladly took. This kid was kinda weird, Masky mused to himself as he allowed the other two to move from the bed and towards the door while following them closely. He made a mental note to ask him to elaborate about his weird ticks and twitches, but for now he supposed he might as well get something to eat if Brian was cooking. Food was an annoying thing to have to constantly make, but humans needed food and Tim was rarely helpful on an empty stomach.

Six months. The kid wasn't too bad. A little annoying sometimes, sure. But he was alright. His twitching often caused him to screw up during training, but Tim and Masky both assumed that wasn't too bad. Brian was, almost naturally, kind towards the teen; using at least the basic first aid he could recall whenever he had his manic episodes.

Those episodes - the first time Tim found Toby in the communal bathroom, bleeding from his hands and face while staring blankly into the bathroom mirror; he had been scared shitless. Was this how the others had felt when they found him having a seizure? If so - dear god, he couldn't blame Jay for being so freaked out when it happened around him before. He was just glad Brian was still home when he found him; else it might not have ended as calmly as it had. These episodes were infrequent and didn't appear to have the same triggers each and every time. He spoke of voices, too - ones that didn't sound Operator related when Brian relayed information to him - that didn't quite sound akin to Masky or Hoody. They were much more malicious, ill-kept. Medication didn't seem to help as much as it did with Tim or Brian, either.

Speaking of Brian - Hoody seemed more active during Toby's time at the house. While at first the persona only appeared occasionally, Tim now found the hooded figure 'visiting' at least once a day, if not to meander around the house and visit with the other residents, then to mull about with Tim and Toby. Though more so Toby in particular, Tim noticed. He didn't mind too much; gave someone Toby to bother that wasn't him and for that reprieve Tim was glad. Now if only the ticking teen would ignore him like that all the time.

Shopping was one of the few times Tim was granted such solace. He and Brian were often tasked with such 'meaningful' activities, mostly because they were some of the few who actually used their money for useful things (though, considering BEN probably didn't eat like the normal folk, they couldn't really berate him there; but he was one of the few who could get away with it) and such took it upon themselves to do the shopping. And Toby coming along would likely mean slipping things into their cart they didn't need at best, or complete and utter chaos at worst. And neither felt like dealing with that in public. Not when they wanted to feel normal.

"We could always make some stuff to make a big pot of beef stew," Brian was saying as he pushed their cart along the tiled floors of the store as the duo seemed to aimlessly wander. Already there were a few groceries and necessities inside. "It'd probably last us a week at least. And we'd be saving money on food in the long run, right?"

"Probably," Tim shrugged as they passed by isles and isles of clothing on either side of them on their way to the other side of the store. "I mean, I guess I wouldn't know. Lived off of ramen in college, since it was the cheapest thing."

Brian rolled his eyes, though couldn't help the smirk that played on his lips. Tim could only offer another shrug, as if that answered it. Brian could easily forget Tim wasn't the cook out of the two; even with his minimal memories and recollection of past events, the dirty blond still had a knack for cooking. Or, at least, not setting something on fire and burning everything down.

Tim paused suddenly as they walked as he noticed something out of his line of vision. He turned his head to get a better look at it - and his body was suddenly moving of its own accord, moving in front of the clothing rack as he stared at the clothing in question, face deadpanned. It took a moment for his companion to notice he was no longer with him; Brian halting the shopping cart to give Tim a confused look.

"Tim? You okay?" Brian asked as he moved to rejoin his partner - and then give a sudden, curt laugh at what the other was staring at. "Oh my god," he said in almost disbelief as a hand reached out to grapes lightly at the fabric, "are those pajamas with waffles on them?!"

"Yup," Tim replied curtly, voice akin to his expression. Brian seemed to think for a moment before speaking again.

"Can we get a pair for Toby?" He almost sounded excited as he spoke. Tim seemed to consider the idea, before sighing. Brian was almost sure he was going to reject it; they likely didn't enough cash anyway and -

"Should get 'em in a couple different sizes," he muttered, stepping forward to begin rummaging through the varying yet identical pairs of pajamas hanging on the rack, "just t' make sure we get 'em the right fit."

Brian seemed overly excited at the prospect, happily joining in on the fray with their cart of food temporarily forgotten.