Walking Up The Gardens Path | Creepypasta

Trust Issues

"Did you know that they have waffles here?" Brian said, plopping down next to Tim on the full-sized bed he sat in. The bed bounced with the weight of both men. Tim hummed, glancing up at him with tired eyes. They were both tired. Despite it being nearly 11 in the morning, Brian was still sporting fuzzy pajama pants and a ragged t-shirt. Tim, though, didn't look much classier, dressed in a grey t-shirt and basketball shorts.

"That's where you went this whole time?" He smiled sorely, a teasing tone in his voice alongside the gruff exhaustion.

Brian shrugged with a small smile, not responding to the question, and gently plopped his plate on his lap. Tim shook his head and leaned back against the headboard behind him.

Flipping the book in his hands, he stared at Brian as the man stabbed into his food with a white plastic fork. Tim wasn't sure why he didn't think of Brian going downstairs for breakfast, it seemed completely on brand for him, especially the disappearing without telling him to get it. What was surprising was breakfast still being open at 11 am in a shitty hotel.

He turned away from Brian, placing the small book on the bedside table. It was a bible — Tim wasn't religious and he'd never actually read it before, but his phone had been left at their last motel for safety, and he was more bored than life itself. He never considered he'd be bored enough to read the Christian bible, but he missed wordplay games more than he ever expected to.

His eyes trailed off to the bed next to him. Lightly snoring in the bundle of blankets was Toby, a tuft of dark brown hair sticking out of the pile. Tim watched him for a second, his face blank. They never really talked last night. They never had the chance to even think about it.

The moment they got into the hotel, they gave Toby some of Brian's pajamas — They were around the same size — and shoved him into the bathroom for a shower. He fell asleep quickly afterward, and Tim and Brian followed suit shortly after.

Following Tim's gaze, Brian sighed when it landed on the sleeping boy. He shook his head and leaned closer to Tim, pointing the fork at him. A bit of syrup flittered up from the plate, splattering on the pillow sheet next to him. Tim cringed at the sight. Gross.

"I still think we need to talk about this, you know." He said, light tone gone from his voice. "I never agreed to any of this."

The sudden shift in atmosphere was almost expected, given how abruptly they'd ended the night. Tim didn't say anything for a moment. He knew Brian didn't have much of a say in the matter, but the way Tim saw it, he didn't either. Toby had come to them, seeking help and shelter from whatever happened to him. Of course, he was going to agree and usher him into the car. He didn't understand why Brian couldn't get that part.

He shrugged. "I know you didn't. I don't think either of us did."

Brian leveled him with a deadpan stare. "I told you to keep driving."

"You expected me to do that?"

Tim found himself meeting Brian's eyes, staring into them with a certainty that he'd never possessed before. He wanted to make it known. There wasn't the slightest hint of regret for taking Toby with them, and he would've done the same thing ten times over if needed. The eye contact stayed for just a few more moments. Brian broke it.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he looked away as well. He wasn't sure what to say now. He knew Brian didn't genuinely expect him to keep driving, but he did feel like they should've spoken more about it before really committing. It was just... well. He's a kid, and while Tim isn't exactly the most morally sound person, the idea of abandoning a kid on the side of the highway as he's begging for help would've haunted him for the rest of his life.