It's just like before. Too much like it. Jay trying to pull him out, Tim telling him to run, pick up the camera he doesn't have and run. Jay always runs. Jay leaves Tim and holes up waiting, thinking for sure Tim is dead, never coming back, Jay left him and now he's alone again, watch the footage over and over again, he said run, it's not my fault, he told me to run but that's an empty reassurance and part of him will always know that.
And now, now Tim's taken the bullet meant for him and it's just a dream so fuck it, not now, not this time.
Jay stands up. He lets Tim down as gently as he can while his hands are shaking and stands up, keeping his eyes on the thing even as it advances between eyeblinks. He's shaking so bad. He's so afraid. Just a dream, just a dream. He has to do this. Even if Tim doesn't know he's real, he has to do something - better, maybe, if Tim thinks it's his own brain trying to protect him. Instead of just giving up.
He's seen this before. He doesn't remember it but he's seen himself, barely conscious, writhing on the ground and Tim staggering toward it, staring up at it, limbs splayed like he's being dragged back. He can do this. He can do it.
He steps, and oh god, it's so much harder than he thought, there's so much pressure, so much weight in his mind, compressing and crushing, fuck, fuck, fuck, is this how Tim feels all the time? He lets out a torn scream but he keeps moving because there's no other choice now, he has to, he has to know what this was like, what was done for him and he never said thank you.
Leave him alone leave him alone leave him alone leave him alone. Maybe he's saying it out loud, he doesn't know. His teeth hurt from clenching. He takes another step. It's looking at him now. Good. Good. Here. Not on him. Leave him alone.
He doesn't see it move - it doesn't move, not the way they or a camera could perceive it, but he feels it, reaching for him with arms open, arms too long, arms they can't even see, coiling around his throat, pressing in on him. When did he collapse? All he knows is his knees hurt like crazy, having crashed down onto concrete, and he can't breathe and the buzzing in his head hurts so, so much, but he won't fight, he won't try to escape, he won't run, if it'll just leave him alone.
Everything shifts, his vision jolting to the side, like the image on a camera tearing, jittering, breaking - he sees things for an instant, himself and dark scorch marks seeping down through the walls to wrap around him, and he probably screams but he can't hear anything but static, and then, then he's gone.
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And now, now Tim's taken the bullet meant for him and it's just a dream so fuck it, not now, not this time.
Jay stands up. He lets Tim down as gently as he can while his hands are shaking and stands up, keeping his eyes on the thing even as it advances between eyeblinks. He's shaking so bad. He's so afraid. Just a dream, just a dream. He has to do this. Even if Tim doesn't know he's real, he has to do something - better, maybe, if Tim thinks it's his own brain trying to protect him. Instead of just giving up.
He's seen this before. He doesn't remember it but he's seen himself, barely conscious, writhing on the ground and Tim staggering toward it, staring up at it, limbs splayed like he's being dragged back. He can do this. He can do it.
He steps, and oh god, it's so much harder than he thought, there's so much pressure, so much weight in his mind, compressing and crushing, fuck, fuck, fuck, is this how Tim feels all the time? He lets out a torn scream but he keeps moving because there's no other choice now, he has to, he has to know what this was like, what was done for him and he never said thank you.
Leave him alone leave him alone leave him alone leave him alone. Maybe he's saying it out loud, he doesn't know. His teeth hurt from clenching. He takes another step. It's looking at him now. Good. Good. Here. Not on him. Leave him alone.
He doesn't see it move - it doesn't move, not the way they or a camera could perceive it, but he feels it, reaching for him with arms open, arms too long, arms they can't even see, coiling around his throat, pressing in on him. When did he collapse? All he knows is his knees hurt like crazy, having crashed down onto concrete, and he can't breathe and the buzzing in his head hurts so, so much, but he won't fight, he won't try to escape, he won't run, if it'll just leave him alone.
Everything shifts, his vision jolting to the side, like the image on a camera tearing, jittering, breaking - he sees things for an instant, himself and dark scorch marks seeping down through the walls to wrap around him, and he probably screams but he can't hear anything but static, and then, then he's gone.