Of course someone finds him like this. Someone who isn't just...a non-judgmental, completely neutral party like a tigerlily that's gone through more naming iterations than is reasonable. It takes Tim a minute to come back to himself - to realize he's being addressed by someone who's talking to him, in person.
He's being addressed by someone he knows. Someone who's never seen him be reduced to this - a sobbing fucking wreck on the ground.
He can't really stand right now. Rather, the idea of trying to get to his feet feels insur-fucking-mountable. He stares at the red, glistening scabs on the backs of his hands through the fuzz of his own tears.
"Th - "
He can't finish the word. Swallow, the breath shuddering in his throat.
no subject
He's being addressed by someone he knows. Someone who's never seen him be reduced to this - a sobbing fucking wreck on the ground.
He can't really stand right now. Rather, the idea of trying to get to his feet feels insur-fucking-mountable. He stares at the red, glistening scabs on the backs of his hands through the fuzz of his own tears.
"Th - "
He can't finish the word. Swallow, the breath shuddering in his throat.
"They're gone."