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[abrightboy]

 This is Bright. Leave a message.

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[empathicfault]

When I realized the scratches on my door were real, puzzled it out- it wasn't exactly difficult- and then went to their cabin with a knife.

[abrightboy]

Did you kill them?

[empathicfault]

It didn't get that far. Nita found us first- conveniently after Avalon had retaken their usual shape.

Pretty sure they needed stitches too, though.

[abrightboy]

What shape were they before that?

[empathicfault]

The wendigo. It gave them claws to work with. And maybe they thought it would still mess with me.

[ It did, just not in a way that would benefit Avalon. ]

[abrightboy]

How do they pull their little Wendigo trick, exactly?

[empathicfault]

No idea, really. Some sort of magic? Or maybe they're 'just' a shape-shifter. It's outside the realm of what we're familiar with.

Could've even been a lesser transformation, augmented with psychic intrusion to lay the image down for me. No one else saw it, after all. But they did claw me with something.

Idk Mid May

[ployboy]

Tim's just let himself in after having stepped out for far less than he had said. His crutches announce his entrance, because he (moodily) lets them fall and clang against the first piece of sturdy furniture Tim encounters. With a (still uneven) hasty pace, he pokes his head in to the room where Malcolm is currently, decorum be damned, and he announces

"Steph is here and I don't know what to do."

Because when in doubt: pester the brother. One of life's better truths.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks over in the middle of hanging up his jacket in the bedroom closet, eyebrows going up.

"...like... your fiancee Stephanie? Is that good news?"

[ployboy]

It turns out, Tim did not know terror until this moment. He stills, his imagination betraying him and the air around him becoming as thick as water. Mouth agape, Tim chalks up his ability to live past that critical hit as a miracle.

"N-no..." he croaks out, and wow is he going to thank his lucky stars for this mix-up happening between them and not, like, with Stephanie Brown anywhere in earshot.

"No," he tries again, getting himself back on track. "I mean- I don't know. Yes. No, she's not my fiancee. That was Tam."

Wow.

"Tam wasn't my fiancee either, not like. Not for real. I... ohmygodit'scomplicated. Steph knows. But, like. Don't."

[abrightboy]

"So.... which one is Steph?" Malcolm asks.

[ployboy]

"The one that hit me with a brick," Tim clarifies.

It takes him a good while to realize he maybe hasn't told that story yet. On account of telling the absolute minimum amount of stories.

Tim welcomes himself to the bed, where he flops down and (dramatically) puts an arm over his eyes. He gestures nonsense in the air with his free hand before explaining.

"Steph. We know-- we dated. We went through a lot together. She's this... god, she's really stubborn. You have no idea. And I didn't think I'd see her again, after-- and then, just like that. Now she's here. I don't know what to do."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm watches him for a moment.

“Because you still have feelings with her but you’re seeing Jeff?”

[ployboy]

Malcolm, god, why.

Tim groans.

That's it that's the response.

[abrightboy]

And he’ll take it as a ‘yes’.

“That’s a difficult position to be in. Though Jeff is probably a proponent of open relationships, it wouldn’t work if you weren’t either. And you have to take more precautions if you aren’t exclusive.”

[ployboy]

Why, Malcolm, why. Tim chokes out a little noise, the fleeting idea of Jeff and Steph dancing around each other already engrained in his gutter of a mind.

He draws his arm back, peering unblinking at the ceiling of the room and then, in a fit of absentmindedness, he blinks at Malcolm. "--uh?"

Because, to his ears, that sounds a lot like They don't have to know about each other. Which is fair, good advice. Y'know. In a way. He's just surprised from who it came from.

[abrightboy]

Not at all what he was saying. He perches on the bed next to Tim's hip.

"What did she say when you told her you have a boyfriend here?"

[ployboy]

To think he'll soon be complaining that the futility of this conversation is all Malcolm's fault. Another burden for the big siblings to bear.

Tim repeats, "Huh?"

Because there is so much wrong with that assumption. Oop.

[abrightboy]

“You didn’t tell her you’ve been dating someone else here?” Malcolm confirms.

[ployboy]

N....nnnno.

Tim pushes up on his elbows because he has one misunderstanding to clear up. (Just one.)

"Okay, but Steph and I weren't dating. Not really."

As in, not at all.

If he remembers correctly, and god it's been so long ago,

"She didn't want to. And we didn't even see much of each other."

[abrightboy]

"...So what's the problem?" Malcolm asks with genuine confusion.

[ployboy]

And he flops back down, too-long hair wanting to fan out. But Tim's hair isn't that long yet.

What's wrong.

What isn't wrong?

"I can't trust her to stay safe," he settles on.

She's already 'died'. He can't lose her again. Not for real.

She's impulsive, brash, downright stupid sometimes. But her tenacity and passion have kept her in one piece.

He can't trust her, he never will again. He loves her.

He'd always thought, maybe, that his first time would be with her.

And that's not even the tip of the freakin' iceberg.

Tim sighs.

"We've hurt each other. A lot. It's like-- she won't want me to help her, but she'll mess it all up."

That hurts to say, Tim notices. They had grown past the whole... Spoiler thing and.... but maybe 2 years of stewing on wrongs didn't do him any favors there. It's not that he's back to square one. But he's too close for comfort.

[abrightboy]

"Nobody is safe here. You have to think about what that means for how you live. Do you want to have a relationship with her?" Malcolm asks.

[ployboy]

He tenses.

It's stupid, but he tenses, his whole body just one sharp line. Tim audibly clicks his jaw shut as he mulls over words, rearranges his body to something less visibly strained; the alternative is to scratch and dig at his hair, to pull at it until the crawling under his skin is replaced by a fiery pain.

"I can't trust her," he says. There's a feeble wrath embedded in there. Tim's rarely been as embarrassed by a four-word confession.

[abrightboy]

"You mean you can't trust her not to hurt you by disregarding her own safety," Malcolm summarizes. "You want a relationship with her, but you're afraid of it. ...Where does that leave you and Jeff?"