Standing By

Reboot and Restart Your Tim

(Tim)

"Quick! Get—get a—," echoed through my head. I had no idea what I was supposed to get. I didn't even think I could get anything at this point, the room was spinning so. It was like Smith had just yanked the rug out from under me with just an utterance, sending my brain into a tailspin. Locking my keys in my car. Sending—letting—Chris go get them from Jenika—I should have just called the locksmith like Elliott had advised. God. I'd been so stupid. I should have never let him do that even if he'd wanted to—he could have been killed. Had it been Linda that had tried to run him over? It—it could have been anyone; it really could've—but knowing the Marions' degree of anger at me, for allegedly hitting their daughter even though I hadn't—I hadn't! For counter pressing the same charges against her, like a slap in the face, really. Why had I done that? Yeah, yeah, to be perfectly honest, she had hit me. Did I deserve it? I—I didn't think I had. And—and—if Dale and Mark had come down to Tennessee, who's to say Linda wouldn't? Just because we hadn't physically seen her... maybe she was trying to lay low, so she could, I dunno, strike when I wasn't expecting it. But—my friends? Against Chris, of all people? No, no, not Chris, never Chris, should've been me that someone had tried to run over. None of this was Chris' fault, for God's sake!

Struggling to keep upright, the Brookings stage fuzzy in my vision, my legs threatening to give out on me, I grasped for something, anything to not fall on the floor in a useless pathetic heap.

"Please!" Chance cried out frantically.

"What do you want us to get?" Adam shouted, sounding near panicked himself.

"Iiii don't knoooow!" he wailed.

Adam. Adam. Chris. Chris. Now everyone I loved was in danger. No, no. Can't... can't let this... was Chris safe, tucked up in Minnesota? Most of the other people I cared the most about in this world were here, here with me—except my family. They were still in Texas. Why the hell were they still in Texas??? They never even left Texas! Even when I was in such legal trouble! They didn't come for the preliminary hearing. They never even came for me. Just went on about their normal holiday routine. While I found myself thrown into a jail cell.

I felt my legs crumble underneath me and I fell hard onto the stage, a very tenuous hold onto consciousness. I was, without a doubt, vacillating between hyperventilating and barely breathing at all; I knew it was making me dizzy as fuck, but I could not stop.

Chance fell to his knees next to me. "Got your medicine?" He started sticking fingers in my pockets.

A hand fell on my back. "Shh, shh, it's OK, we're here, you're OK." Austin's voice.

"Breathe, Tim," Rob encouraged me.

"Panic attack?" Adam asked, running a hand over my arm.

I shrugged helplessly. All I knew was that I wasn't breathing right—and that I was abandoned. By my own family. Why? Why didn't they come for me? Didn't they love me? Her folks did, but mine didn't. Would they have come for Taylor? In the midst of an identity crisis, I laid my head down on Rob's arm; he was the only one staying still long enough to be a pillow.

Chance patted at my hand, pushing my pill bottle at me. "Here, Tim, take one of these, OK? You'll feel better and—"

I didn't want a damn pill. I pushed it roughly aside, scattering pills everywhere, the crying, the feeling of abandonment overtaking the panic of Linda's being here in town. Why wasn't my mother here? I wanted my mommy. I knew she and Dad barely got along much anymore, but I'd settle for just one of them!

"Hey," Chance complained mildly, Mitch scrambling to pick up pills.

Long brown hair fell in my field of vision. "Tim? What's going on?"