Reticulated

Running

Alone myself I stand,

with a gun against my head.

You know,

I'm done

And I'm doomed

When I come running

When I come running

To you.

- Running, Delta Spirit

They're on the highway before noon, headed north to New Orleans. Tim's in the driver's seat with his window rolled down, the wind blowing through his hair as he speeds through the swamp.

Every so often he hears the text tone on his phone. Jessica has been texting him since Allie's place, though he hasn't taken a moment to respond. He knows she must be anxious, having waited a ridiculous amount of hours for information, but he's not quite sure what to tell her yet.

His first instinct is to lie, to tell her that some snot-faced eleven year old hacked the channel and added the new content because he'd watched the videos and thought it all a game, but he doesn't really think that she'd believe it even for a second. His worry though, lies in where to draw the line in the details. The entire point of his subconscious' act of saving her had been to keep her safe – at least that's what he assumes.

nevercantellwith"The Other Guy."

Telling Jessica too much could put her back in danger – something he would never knowingly do, not just for her sake, but also for Jay's.

They're further away from New Orleans than he originally thought, because its late evening by the time they're on the outskirts of the city, fueling up at the cheapest gas station they can find. As Allie goes in to pay, Tim finally picks up the phone and scrolls through his messages.

Tim?

Tim!

Tim r u ok?

Tim what's going on?

I can't handle this – text me something anything

Just a letter tim

tim tim where are u

Tim where are u

I swear to god tim if u dont anser ur phone i will murder u

That's it im going to la

Shit not California like Louisiana

This isn' funny tim

He's about to text her back when she calls. He hesitates before hitting the green button on his phone.

He almost regrets it – answering his phone. From the moment the line picks up she's swearing at him in a way he didn't think was possible. His ears are tinged slightly pink at the colorful language, but he waits her out as he leans against the car, worrying at the skin around his nails, before answering her questions.

"What happened last night, Tim? What's going on?"

"I'm not sure," he tells her in a low voice, looking around to ensure that he's still alone. "I don't really know much more than you do."