"You didn't want to set foot in here," says Tim, the words low and intent and cut with a tremor he can't wholly swallow away. "Neither did I."
The difference being that he still did it, even if it was like an ironclad punch to the gut, crossing that threshold and there are too many walls and yet not enough, because half of the walls have decayed into nothing.
What do you see?
Impatient, isn't he? That makes it easier, it in a way; again, because he can pretend. It's just Jay, poking angrily for answers. It's just Jay, forcefully demanding he discard years' worth of mental backlog and repressed memories - bringing back old memories like it couldn't possibly have any effect on anybody else - because it isn't useful for you to be hijacked by your own fucking psychotic bullshit, Tim.
no subject
The difference being that he still did it, even if it was like an ironclad punch to the gut, crossing that threshold and there are too many walls and yet not enough, because half of the walls have decayed into nothing.
What do you see?
Impatient, isn't he? That makes it easier, it in a way; again, because he can pretend. It's just Jay, poking angrily for answers. It's just Jay, forcefully demanding he discard years' worth of mental backlog and repressed memories - bringing back old memories like it couldn't possibly have any effect on anybody else - because it isn't useful for you to be hijacked by your own fucking psychotic bullshit, Tim.
So get it together.
Choke down the lump in your throat.
"There's no one here. It's just...overgrown."