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It might not be. He was intimate with Embry before he killed him. Grace had her breast torn off. If he's just doing it to be a freak pervert...

[ It's not enough to accuse in the matter of Grace, but it's...disturbing. Tim tries to close his eyes, curls his arm around Hawk's waist. ]

I just think getting him away from everybody would be handling it.

I don't think he did Grace.

Saxisce - her's was clean. Meticulous. He likes choking. It could be him. It could not be him. Feels a little obvious accusing the murderer of being guilty here, doesn't it?

[hawk sighs, tipping his head down to press a soft kiss to the top of tim's head. he doesn't want this shit polluting their happy bed, now that it's well and truly theirs.]

Or I guess - sometimes the most obvious thing is the thing. Feels like we're fucked either way.

[there's a pause, a tentative and subtle shift of the topic.]

Was thinking about going to visit Alia in the dungeon tomorrow.

Even if he only killed Embry, he should still be put away.

[ Only Embry. It sounds so monstrous, as if his life didn't matter because it was before the game. Maybe they are fucked either way. Dead, or turned into monsters themselves trying to keep from being next. Tim can't let himself think that way though, even if he has to fight tooth and nail to keep those thoughts away. If he can't believe in his ability to make things better, why bother with anything, at all? ]

...it's my fault she's in there.

[ Muttered softly, clutching Hawk tighter. ]

I don't think she'll want to see me. You should, though. I'll, um. [ Koby and Quentin's might be out of the question right now too. ] I can stay with someone else for a few hours.

Edited 2024-10-10 04:51 (UTC)

[only. yeah, it sounds fucking bad. and he knows tim doesn't mean it that way - that he'd never ever fucking say it like that if the circumstances were different. but at that he glances back down, shifting to lift a finger under tim's chin and tip it up to meet his gaze.]

Whoa, hey, hey, hey.

[there's something soft there, the fondness mixing with sympathy and a sharp insistence creeping in at the edges of icy blue. his thumb strokes along the underside of tim's chin, along his neck lightly to soothe.]

It's not your fault. There were about - what, twenty others who voted before you did.

Can I tell you something?

[he shifts in, impossibly closer and lets the arm around his waist tug him in until they're even more flush.]

The evidence Baela brought was solid. I'd be shocked if she didn't do it at this point.

[and yet, notably, he still defended her.]

I don't think she'll be mad. If anything...I think she'd find this whole thing amusing. Her brother though, he seems like a pain in the ass.

[ Automatically, Tim's head tilts in the direction Hawk leads him, wet eyes meeting his. The fondness he can see in them makes the emotion rush through him even harder, everything in the last few days that he's been ignoring just to function - the fear, the worry, the guilt - rising back up, making his lip wobble and his breath labored as he struggles to contain it. Not because Hawk fails to calm him, but because it's safe now to let himself feel all of it, at least for a little while, when he looks at him like that, and holds him like this.

Tim takes a deep, shaky breath, tears falling quietly down his cheeks as he speaks. ]

I brought her name up to Alicent. Doesn't matter if I held my vote as long as I could, I started it.

[it's strange to be back in this same spot some mere hours later, everything somehow the same and so drastically different all at once. alia being guilty - locked up and declared a killer doesn't even register to hawk, not when he's clinging to tim like a child with its teddy, glancing up every so often to run his fingers gently along the edge of the angry red welt on tim's neck, to soothe along the bruises and nicks from his struggle.

there's a part of him he'll never reveal is wracked with guilt, knowing tim will insist it wasn't his fault for somehow falling asleep and not realizing what was taking place. all he can do is be grateful he got there when he did, that they have a solid case against who he suspects is the prime suspect in this vicious attack. with any luck? the second accusation will land true too. halfway there.

for now he looks up through half-lidded eyes, tipping up to press a soft kiss against tim's lips chastely and nestling in against his chest.]

Can I get you anything, Skippy?

[there's a quiet pause where it seems like maybe he's drifted off, but on the contrary: he's wide awake. vulnerable. scared, and for once? he's not afraid to voice it.]

...Christ - don't even want to close my eyes, you know?

[ Of course he doesn’t blame Hawk. Not for a thing. Tim would be dead without him, and he’s got a hunch that the doctors won’t be able to prevent any and all harm even towards those they choose to save, if the true goal of this game is to sow chaos. It's good, in terms of strategy, in terms of the game, that Tim was strangled and dragged through the grounds, so it could be tied in with Danny’s methods.

In terms of everything else? Tim’s in pain, stress needling him to the bone, sitting in group huddles and at dinner tables with his back against the wall, and jumping at noises behind him when he can’t. Sudden touches make him flinch. But Hawk’s been slow and gentle with him, exactly what he needs right now to settle down. He makes a soft sound against the kiss and lays his head back on the pillow – there’s an ache where it contours against the back of his neck, but he’s getting used to it. Tim’s fingers comb through Hawk’s hair idly as he hums, thinking. ]

Another ice pack, maybe.

[ But he’s in no hurry to let go of Hawk’s weight on him, holding him safely against the bed where he can’t be hurt. ]

I know. But we need rest, so we can think clearly. Can’t get sloppy now.

[ The stakes are higher than ever. Not that Tim’s one to talk, waking in the middle of the night unable to breathe. ]

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