Chapter Text
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Tim slammed his car's door shut quickly. The slamming noise echoed through the empty lot, though he couldn't bring himself to care as an unexplained dread ran through his stomach. He knew he was running out of time for something,
The car's locking noise was a comfort as he turned away from the hunk of metal, allowing himself a moment to try and remember where he was and what was going on. The weather decidedly doing its best impression of a sauna that melted away his coherent thought-streams into figuring out where the closest air-conditioned building was. As he stood in the campus’ parking lot, he couldn’t help but wish he lived somewhere freezing like Alaska. Cold and away from all his woes. Away from whatever was making his heart pound a mile a minute.
The man shook his head free of surrounding thoughts as he resigned himself to his distant fate of a soggy jog to class— if the pre-beading line of sweat along his hairline and neck meant anything to his near future. It was common enough in the summer and middle of fall, the heat was just another thing Tim had learned to handle, especially in a place like Alabama.
Tim’s eyes flicked around the campus, distant buildings seeming to blur as the heat cast its mirage into his squinting eyes. With a low sigh and quick adjustment of his bag, Tim began his trek towards class. The subject of history was simple enough to gather, and it helped him achieve the pesky pre-requisites he may or may not need should he transfer to a separate university.
He shook a stray hair from his eyes with a huff as he sped along. His urgency slowly beginning to fade. The passing thought of the next-day pressing to the forefront of his mind. With a muttered curse, he realized he had another scene to film for Alex.
That wouldn’t be an issue for Tim if it wasn’t for how Alex chose which days to film.
The guy had decided the misery of the weather made the actors' reactions all the more “authentic”
A short humorless chuckle ripped out of Tim’s throat at the situations Alex entitled ‘great filming possibilities’ as he glanced around the campus, debating skipping out on the class he shuffled towards amidst the heat-wave. While he enjoyed the subject, he felt like he'd be better off without it today. But, the logistical part of himself argued easily against such notions.
His mind decidedly settled on thinking away from the familiar comfort that was his privacy that waited in the dorms for Tim. His thoughts ran through all the different people he had met through his short-time in college and end-of-high school. A breeze blew past, the feeling almost heavenly as he breathed in the fresh air, sighing softly. Brian, had been like that for him…Well, more like a working AC after a day spent trekking the desert. He was always far too kind and patient to someone like himself.
He was always encouraging him to participate rather than just sticking to the background as he always did. The distant ringing of encouragement pulled at the edges of his mouth as he remembered the most recent thing Brian had roped him into. The student-film brewed up by Alex Kralie himself. “How hard could it be” he said
Those words were something that ran through his side-burned head each time Alex would give the most tedious of instructions…
Though, the pay-off of how often Brian ate those words with every struggle he experienced from how Alex decided to operate the whole project made for the perfect ‘revenge’ in Tim’s eyes. Despite that, he couldn’t help but feel a pinch of sympathy for his friend as he endured countless lectures on how to stand and breathe properly in the midst of the southern summer.
All things considered, the film's odd title should have been warning enough to Tim. His mind reasoned. He should have avoided the bait and just stuck to his own rungs. Yet, he found it ironic how strangely fitting the title was, especially with how it just had to be filmed with the same delicacy marble needed to be handled all the way to the amount of hatred hornets carried to often unsuspecting victims trying to enjoy a dinner-’date’ with their close friend after a long day of class...Damn psych and film majors….Tim took a deep-breath, exhaling with a low cough as he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, pausing his stride to stare at his shadow for a quick-moment, wishing for a cigarette or maybe to befriend a STEM major at some point. Surely, they would make up a better name than 'Marble Hornets' for some student film, and maybe even favor the actors' need to not be miserable at each shoot.
He truly began to regret his outfit as sweat rolled slowly down his back, the feeling making him shudder. He began picking at the small buttons that held the sleeves perfectly aligned with his wrists. The perfection of the green-blue flannel buttons around his wrists paired with the warmth was something he usually appreciated. Keeping him comfortable when it was breezy and cloudy. Despite the thunderhead clouds that rolled by above, the well-worn cotton against him felt more suffocating than running a mile through the woods after chain smoking minutes prior.
Just as he began to pick at the hellish fabric that surrounded the buttons to freedom, Brian came bouncing along. Even with the hounding heat, his familiar smile never ceased to spread heat through his face. The buzz in his stomach was a feeling he never could replicate through even the strongest of liquors, despite how much he tried. Tim quickly shook the thought as he lifted an eyebrow to get a better-look at his tall friend. His hustle completely forgotten
“....Dude! We’ve been looking everywhere for you,”
It was easy to hear the smile in Brian's voice as he spoke, yet, the closer he got, the harder it was to see. The sun blocked the dark-haired man from seeing the others' face, yet, Tim's mind easily replicated the man crows feet crinkling just beneath his hazel eyes as his mouth shaped out each syllable, his accent was light as he spoke yet still discernible as it held onto the edges of each word. It took a moment for Tim to realize what his friend had said as the quiet weight began to re-settle in his stomach, his hand moving to try and block out the blazing light, squinting just to see the other man.
“Why? …Did something happen?”
It was simple enough to start talking, to ask the basic question and ease the growing tension that stretched from deep in his abdomen into his throat. Yet, the more he tried to think of anything his mind may have forgotten and simply look at his friend, the more the sun would beam against his irises.
The burning feeling as sweat dripped from his hairline was getting to be unignorable. He subconsciously began to pull tautly at the buttoned ends that were simply refusing to come undone. The pit he felt growing as he tried to release his arms from the flannel. Quickly clearing his throat to try and settle the tense feeling, as he blinked heavily, his dark eyes became quickly fixed onto the fabric that seemed to engulf his entire being.
“Well I mean, besides Alex losing his cool, everything…..”
Brian's voice trailed off in Tim's ears as he spoke, the sound of it all but summoning that ache in his chest. A low ringing began to lick at his eardrums, the sound more common than he’d like to admit. His mouth went cottony as his eyes flicked up, trying his best to listen to the other. He could barely see how his mouth kept on moving, barely catching how his hands and eyebrows would raise with emphasis of his points of locations he tried scouting.
“ I mean, I looked everywhere for you dude. I went to the dorm ... .no luck there but then I thought, hey, what-if he tried meeting us at one of the old spots?....”
Tim was truly beginning to struggle to catch Brian's words as a whistling background noise blurred any legible words. He tried to open his mouth to slow Brian, yet, the man kept on talking, oblivious to his struggle
“..Brian.”
“So, I thought that maybe Rosswood would be a good st….”
Tim’s labored breathing went into double time at the mere mention of the park. His eyes switched between squinting and wide as he kept on trying to remove the fabric around his arms, his eyebrows pressing roughly against the tops of his flicking eyes that bounced between Brian and his own sleeved arms.
Sweat licked down his spine as he struggled to try and speak over the heightened ringing in his ears. The buzz of noise rose to a deafening scream that over-took Brian's usual hum. A noise Tim used to discern easily from the static on his bad days. The days where nothing felt real and all that he could hear calling was the whispers of the park, beckoning him to the isolation of his old room at the hospital. He could feel his heart stutter in his chest.
The cotton of his flannel felt sharp underneath his fingers as he opted to begin tearing at the sleeves, any thought of listening to his best friend long forgotten as he tore at the fabric. His hands shook as they struggled to obtain his desired freedom. His throat began closing on him as panic began to set in, any thought of controlling its pace long forgotten as the be-cursed collar of the long sleeve seemed to strangle him. Brian simply kept talking and talking,
"..Brian..! "
“.....and then…. right?”
The ringing Tim heard was all but deafening. His hands finally ending their siege upon the tight fabric to try and shield his ears from the onslaught of noise. Sweat soaking into his cracked hands as he slammed his eyes shut. His mouth opened to try and gasp in air and calm himself.
“..... .you … … see”
The words barely filtered through anymore. He ripped his eyes open, meekly crying out at the burning feeling and light increase of noise as his gaze flicked around, landing on the drops of red that fell from his ears at his feet. The sight was common enough to be just a blade of grass to the man. The need to throw up the breakfast he couldn’t remember eating was something he could never get as accustomed to.
The trees around seemed to blur into one, the nearby bench seeming to sink into the gray concrete that bled into the texture-less grass, blinking only worsened it as the colors all began to mesh into a true mess, the only stable thing being the dark green of Brian's shirt, yet, the longer he stared, the more tan it turned. He couldn’t remember if it was long-sleeved before or not as the man's hands toyed with the edges of the tan-yellow sleeves that were there now.
Tim's eyes open and shut desperately, his lashes all but stabbing into the soft gelatin of his eyes. His mouth remained agape, unable to close lest he choose to suffocate in the sweltering heat that Brian seemed oblivious to, even as he approached the unreactive man with shaking hands. He was unfazed as his limbs moved around miraculously enacting whatever story he had gone into.
It took everything not to scream as he boiled with his surroundings, his hands were rough as they gripped into dark green around the tallers' collar bones. The fabric instantly turning into a familiar tan hoodie
Yet
It all stopped for a moment
He could truly breathe, for a second, he could feel his heart pounding at his ribs, desperate to get away as he tore his gaze from the rough fabric to look at the mans face. Though he couldn’t help but wish he hadn’t as he stared into an abyss of whispers that took away his friends face and voice. A drawn-skull stared apathetically at him.
“You Are Broken”
The skull with a choir of voices sang at him before a wave crashed into him, sending him swiping in every which direction in a desperate attempt to resurface, to breathe the stifling air as long as it meant breathing.
The current was far too strong as he struggled, his feet and legs kicked uselessly against the weightlessness, his hands reached for the dimming light that gave him a sense of direction, he tried and tried, yet, the further he stretched to the surface, the more it seemed to gain distance from him,
He tried to scream, to beg , to find selfish safety with his friend. To try and get the one-person he truly connected with to help grab him out of the rushing current, the effort rewarding him with total darkness and the blaring drone of an alarm.
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The stale air of the room felt sticky as Tim stared at the ceiling, his fan likely as tired as he felt as it whirred life into the air that he greedily breathed in. The blare of his alarm drowning any other peaceful background noise. A promise he was away from the terror his mind decided to project for him. He silenced it with ease, sighing harshly as he closed his eyes. The hotel's mattress beneath him creaked as his weathered hands instinctively moved away from the device to rub at the seemingly permanent exhaustion that already pressed at the base of his skull.
His back tensed roughly against the sweat-soaked sheets he laid upon, the bed sighing as he sunk further into it, his body crying for more rest.
He didn't think he could sleep now, even if he tried.
A squeak cried out from its well-used box-springs when the raven-haired man sat up with a groan. He shook his head to try and clear some of the fog that seemed married to his brain that would be forever settled in his skull. His eyelashes fluttering softly as he glanced around the dark room. The sun yet to rise and greet him from underneath the hotel's curtains. He breathed in sorrowfully, shuddering at the cold air that seemed to only enunciate the phantom feeling of water-logged lungs. Absentmindedly he turned his eyes to squint at his phone, the blue-light burning his eyes in dark.
5:55 A.M.
He groaned as he adjusted the blanket that has become well wrapped around his legs, he wasn't needed at work for another couple hours, but the idea of sleeping made him shudder. He resigned himself to thinking of what to do. Blinking sluggishly as he looked down to his body, frowning at the feeling of how his sweat stained into him
Dried sweat stuck to his skin, his shirt doing a poor impression of a hug as it stuck against his scarred torso, his underwear, fortunately, keeping their distance despite the dread his head decided to dredge up.
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He should be over it.
It’s been 5 years since.
That’s how long it’s been since the fall. His fall from grace, as he would call it during his more theological periods. Those grossly nostalgic times where he felt every metaphorical drip of wax melt from his wings during his once achieved flight. From a young age, he knew he’d be damned to fall should he fly too high or too low.
That’s what he figured, at least, especially with how his ‘friends’ would talk to him in that hospital. Always on about one story or another, it was hard to distinguish tall tales from experiences, but Icarus was one that seemed to always be discussed near him. A cough tore reminiscently from his throat, the vibrations sending his mind astray for a moment. He winced, automatically awaiting familiar rip of static that never came. A silent part of him wished it would return back to drowning in that electricity, as long as it meant getting pulled to the surface.
His mind barked instructions of getting ready for the day at him, his body following earnestly as he avoided thinking for a moment. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, rising up onto his shaky legs. Pragmatically avoiding putting much weight onto his long-ago busted leg. The memory of waking in his car to that experience left a metallic taste in his mouth and fuzzy feeling in his aching head.
Tim blinked sluggishly as he glanced around the room, his eyes easily catching on the silhouette of Jay’s camera. It sat on the desk across from the hotels bed, unmoved from the day he rented out this hotel room a few days ago. The thing didn’t record much these days. He wondered if the piece of technology enjoyed ‘retirement’. The thought sending a sigh escaping from his mouth, an urge to throw the thing away and be truly rid of everything he experienced sung in his skull.
yet
......He really didn’t have the guts to throw the thing away, each time he thought of it, it seemed like there was a new reason to keep it close.
He just.
couldn’t let go yet,
“...keep it together,”
His voice was scratchy, cracking at the edges. It felt like he had been screaming all night, a part of him wondered if he did as he approached the restroom that the room's entrance sat dutifully next to.
He redirected his thoughts to the shower he yearned for. The thought of the heat against him was almost frightening to him after his dream. Yet, a part of him could never forget the peace a shower-head can bring as he eyed the dark blue carpeting. He took wide steps as he passed a piece of paper that sat on the floor next to the restroom. His mind easily skipped over the detail before snapping back to it.
It was stark against the navy blue carpet, he couldn’t believe he almost missed it,
It was like a rain-cloud in a night sky that brought along the blaring warnings of flash-floods
“What the hell…”
He bent down quickly scooping the strange piece of folded paper into his hands as he scanned around his hotel room, anticipating it to be ransacked, somehow.
His bed was an expected mess, pillows thrown about and the comforter all but kicked to the foot of the mattress. His stuff was strewn around like it had been the day previous, Jay’s camcorder was unmoved.
Tim blinked analytically, paranoia and defensive warnings nipping familiarly at his neck as he held the piece of paper close to his chest before leaning close to the peephole the locked hotel door gladly supplied
The light was bright against his eyes as he stared at the similarly closed doors parallel to his, the dizzying pattern of the carpet out there was unchanged,
there wasn’t a soul to be seen haunting the halls
Tim took a small step back from his window to outside his room, his breathing opting to quicken as he lowered his gaze to the note he held tightly against himself, dizzy with anticipation. His eyebrows furrowing as he scanned over its neat creases, the piece of paper looking like it was ripped straight from some notebook. The lines are a quick call-back to the many notes he would cram the day before a test. The stress the paper evoked wasn’t all that different, he found as his panic left him dizzy.
He glanced around the unchanged hotel room before opting to go into the restroom like he had once tried to, quickly locking the door behind himself, the habit easy, yet, he couldn’t help but twist the knob to just make sure he was truly sealed away from the uncertainty of the hotel
He leaned against the cold frame of the door as he carefully unfolded the odd piece of paper, only to be greeted by sharp lines of sharpie that held a silent promise
You Can Be Fixed
He held his breath as his eyes caught on each steady line
You Can Be Fixed
He blinked a few times
You Can Be Fixed
He lowered the note and rubbed his eyes, looking back at the black sharpie
You Can Be Fixed
The note crumpled easily in his hands before he threw it into the garbage can