𝗛𝗲𝘆 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗗𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘀

【Ｆｏｒｔｙ－Ｓ e v e n】

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» "This was not apart of the agreement, you dick!" «

Warning: discussion of under-eating

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Rubbing your hands against your face, you could feel a headache forming.

"Okay, I'm sorry, hold on," your hands waved around for emphasis as you spoke, "so...your one friend Alex was being stalked by this...creature...and your other friend published these...tapes on an unlisted YouTube channel."

Lighting a cigarette with shaking hands the man nodded.

"And this thing started harassing your friends because of this... years after it haunted you as a kid..."

Again another nod.

"And...you were diagnosed with paranoia and schizophrenia—and, and the meds you took— that I take— suppressed this things influence on you— said influence creating...an-an alter ego? Am, am I getting this right?"

Tim took a long drag, half leaning on the side of the hospital half leaning on his knees, "Pretty much."

Pacing in front of him you went quiet, pressing your hands to your forehead. Before you stopped in front of him, brows furrowed.

"And Brian—Hoodie—whatever died?"

Tim's brows furrowed as he took the cigarette from his lips, he paused, "Kind...of?" The man sighed, brushing back his messy hair, "I-I don't know how half of this shit works. I mean, I thought he did."

He looked away putting the stick back to his mouth, taking in a shaky inhale. He blew out smoke with his next words, "I saw it happen but...then y'know few years later and he's just back. I figured if he's still kicking then Jay has gotta be but...well."

He gestured vaguely with his hands.

You stared at him, brows furrowed, hands pressed to your mouth.

"Did you ask him?"

He glanced at you, brown eyes alert and exhausted. Biting your lip, you fidgeted, before elaborating.

"Did you ask Brian how he was still...?"

Tim paused again, taking another inhale of the cigarette, before glancing down at it as he pulled it away.

"I really need to quit," he muttered, flicking ash from it. "I...did, yeah."

With a sigh the man slid down against the wall, stubbing the cigarette into the pavement. After a moment of standing there, you sat beside him, arms crossed over your chest to keep yourself warm.

"It was...definitely a difficult conversation."

"I'm sure," you muttered under your breath. He huffed with empty amusement.

"He..." he paused to wet his lips, squinting at nothing, "...he said he didn't really know. Just...when he woke up everything was dark and there was this...person, this thing, talking to him. I can't remember what he said exactly, something about being broken, but," Tim waved his hand to dismiss the thought.