Chapter Text
Brian thanked God for the first time in his life when he saw the illuminated sign for Barb’s diner.
The trek through Rosswood had become more and more full of life, with the green hues of summer peeking through the greyness of the Ark, and by the time he had gotten to the end, it felt as though his world had bursted with colors. It was the first time he had felt this fucking alive in years.
The familiar bell went off once he opened those doors, and he took a deep look all around the diner. He drunk everything in, feeling like he’s finally made it home. The smell of pine and coffee and sausage saturated the place, and the old jukebox in the corner still skipped a beat or two. He trailed his hand against the seats as his feet led him to where he belonged.
There, in the very corner, staring out the window, was Tim.
Breathing, colorful, and alive Tim.
Brian stopped, staring at the picture. This felt like one of those moments that should be painted, and Brian knows that Tim would look good in oil paint and warm colors. It would capture everything, the way the light hit his face just right, how his fingers drummed absentmindedly on the table, and how Brian knew that his feet were shifting, never quite able to stay still. It would be a painting that would convey everything about Tim, even if you’d never met him before.
Brian took a quick look around, breathing in deeply before walking towards Tim. It was tentative, and the walk was all him this time. He thought about every step he took, and how to avoid one of the floorboards that creaked, and how he didn’t know what to say when he got there.
“Tim?” Brian stopped at the booth right before his, not wanting to get too close.
Tim turned his head, and cracked a smile at Brian, looking at him up and down. “Couldn’t have cleaned up before seeing me?” his smile brightened, and Brian knew that he was hiding all sorts of things around that.
“Not exactly a lot of showers in Rosswood,” Brian laughed, taking a seat in front of Tim. Some hair fell in front of his face, and he quickly tucked it back behind his ear.
They stared at each other for a long while, the silence filling the void that had grown over the years. Brian remembered when they first met, how shifty Tim had been and how he had avoided eye contact, always staring out of the window whenever he could.
And now, here he was, staring at Brian like an art critic at a show. His eyes trailed over every hair strand of Brians, every dirt stain on his hoodie, every uneven fingernail; this was the moment Brian knew he fell in love with him.
“So, what’ve you been up to since… the end of everything?” Brian asked, picking up the dirt beneath his fingernail using his thumb. He flicked his eyes up, staring at the sign that hung behind Tim. It was a waning quarter moon, and the outline was lit up in a light blue that was barely visible in the day.
Tim took a sip of his lukewarm coffee. Two creams, one sugar, medium roast, Brian recited in his head. “Working, mostly, Jay comes by and visits sometimes,” he said, trailing his thumb on the handle of his cup, “Alex too, but he mostly yells.” He shrugged, nonchalantly, his gaze held by Brian.
“Aren’t they dead?”
Brian thinks of Skully, who was as tall as Jay but had a voice like Alex. He thinks of the body he found in the Ark, wearing Alex’s clothes without a hint of soul in them.
“Well, yeah, you’re all dead,” Tim grunted, “Shot, stabbed, and pushed off a railing. Other people too, but I didn’t… know them as well.”
“I’m not dead, Tim.” Brian thinks of his body breaking, of cracked ribs and punctured lungs and a skull leaking blood on concrete floor. “I died but they brought me somewhere. And Alex was there and Jay and they told me to leave, so I walked. I walked through Rosswood to here and I’m alive. I’m alive, Tim.” He punctured his sentence, forcing himself to believe his own words as if they weren’t reguritated sentiments of a dying man.
He stared at Tim. Beautiful, vibrant, and alive Tim.
Tim looked at him with the same tired eyes that have haunted him since childhood, his smiled falling from his face. “Okay, Brian.” He reached his hand out, and Brian placed his own next to it, their pinkies barely touching.
Soon after, Bee had come back to take their order.