.:Marble Hornets || One-Shots:.

.:six:.

(polyhornets - soft angst - in where brian's having an awful time)

Tick... tock... tick... tock...

The hands of the clock moved so slowly, too slowly. It drove the man on the floor insane. Time needed to move faster, why wouldn't it move faster? He wished he could make it go much faster, cause then he'd be having a little better of a time.

Brian laid on the living room floor in the dark, his hands shaking as they were crossed over his chest, and his eyes focused enough on the ceiling he might've been able to make out every detail on it. God, how long had Brian been here?

The man stared at the clock, barely able to make it out. 2:30 A.M? Somewhere around there, Brian noticed this happened a lot, er-- it HAD been happening a lot. Recently.
Something would trigger some other thing in his head, didn't have to be anything specific or special, just.. something, and he would only be able to lie on the floor as a million memories rushed through his head.

His breathing was trembling, loud, maybe just to him but- it was still loud, his eyes went in and out of focus as tears poured from them. His hands still shaky and now making jerking movements; he was lying on hardwood flooring, he knew that. He knew he was, he KNEW he was but- no amount of self convincing would take that.

To him, all he saw was an old, abandoned and empty building all around, cold, hard concrete beneath him as all breath left him. He felt like he was dying, slowly on the floor. Alone.
just like back then.

He started thinking again, what sparked this? What had he done, that put him in the state he was at now? He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, dull colors filling the dark void for a moment. Think, think, think...

...
He had dropped something, was it him? Had he dropped it? Something had been dropped anyway, it was loud. Dull? Loud, thumping against the floor and echoed in the room. Echoed? Only he had heard it, it seemed. None of the others woke up...

It was just him?
It was just him in this house, wasn't it? But. But that's not right he saw Tim in the room just a while ago before he had left, he heard Jay talking to someone about something and Alex snoring, he wasn't alone but it was just HIM right now?

Brian's hands started jerking faster, his chest started to hurt and he squeezed his eyes shut again, hot tears rolling down his face as he clenched his teeth. Scratching and static sounding off in his head-- make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it STOP-

"Brian?"

Tim. His voice managed to cut through the loud noises in his head, Brian thought maybe it was loud enough even Tim heard it. He didn't respond, he couldn't. His vocal cords felt dead.

He felt dead.

The floor creaked as socked feet walked over to him, Brian continued to be silent as Tim laid next to him. A little distance away, comfortable.
Brian didn't want to be touched. Not yet.

"Hey? You alright there, Brian?" Tim softly questioned, patiently waiting for Brian's answer. Brian seemed to be thinking, before croaking out;

"I don't know where I am,"
"You're home, Brian."
"I can't... I can't tell..."

Tim frowned, sticking his hand out to Brian. One little movement at a time.

"I promise you, Brian. You're home. You're safe, baby." Tears just spilled harder. "What do you see?"

"I.. I see the ceiling, the balcony, I-- I see myself lying on the ground, slowly dying-- dying alone," Brian started to break, he took Tim's hand. There was a faint squeeze. "I'm-- I'm dy-" "Shhh, hey, hey it's okay. You're okay, you're okay and alive,"

Slowly, Brian hid in Tim's side, the man embracing him and rubbing his back. Brian broke. "Tim I think I'm dying again- I'm-- I--" "Shhhshshshsh, shh, you're not... you're here, in the living room, alive and in my arms," Brian was sobbing into Tim's sleep shirt.

Another door opened, and Alex leaned out, he muttered something and he walked into the living room, Jay behind him with a blanket in his arms.
Brian didn't want them all to see him like this, he hated his 'weak side' being seen, he hated it he hated it he HATED IT--

He felt only one hand on his shoulder, squeezing. It was trying to ground him again, he must've curled again... a defense mechanism, he noticed about himself. "Hey, Brian, listen." That's Jay's voice...

"You're not alright right now, that's okay. But we promise you, you aren't dying, and you sure as hell aren't dying alone, we're here. Right?"
Brian nodded, he couldn't find it in him to speak.
"Exactly, can we touch you?"
He nodded again, and felt three weights be added against him. A blanket falling on top.

They were all there, Brian relaxed from his curl, his eyes opened to look into Tim's brown ones, the man offered him a comforting smile, "Hey baby," He cooed, running his fingers through Brian's hair slightly.

A hand snaked over Brian's side, Jay's hand, and Brian took it, the hand was still on his shoulder too, probably Alex. Who decided he got the turn to speak, "See? You're safe, and not alone, buddy."

Brian never once appreciated laying in a dark room more than he did tonight.

...

Maybe he wasn't fully alright right now... but, at least he wasn't alone.