Work Text:
one.
Tim had never meant to enjoy working at the Magnus Institute. It was just meant to be a tool, a means to an end. It was meant to help him get answers. But here he was, going out for drinks with his coworkers - just like any other guy at any other job. He swallowed the lump of guilt that rose in his throat, and turned his attention back to the street ahead of him, watching the rain land in puddles at his feet. Danny wouldn’t want him to feel guilty. He could have a little fun sometimes, Tim told himself as he took another drag from his cigarette.
The creaking thud of a heavy door broke the silence, and Tim turned to see Sasha emerging from the warm glow of the pub. She made her way over to where he stood with a smile, leaning against the wall.
“Fancy seeing you here.” Tim joked, shifting to one side so she could have a little more space, ever the gentleman. “What dragged you all the way out here? Was the conversation lost without me?”
“Quite the opposite, really. Jon was explaining some physics to us all. You really missed out.” She replied, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “No, I just thought you might like some company.”
“Do you think he’ll do an encore when I go back inside? I’d hate to miss it.” That earned him a laugh, and Tim grinned at her. “Well, thanks Sash. I appreciate it. Don’t worry, I’ll be quick.”
Sasha shakes her head. “Don’t sweat it, take your time.” She hesitated for a second before looking up to meet his gaze. “Actually, Tim… Can I have a cigarette? If you’ve got one going.”
Tim stared at her, his wide eyes betraying his shock. He’d never known Sasha to smoke before. Sure, they hadn’t known each other that long but he thought he’d at least know that by now. Still, he tried his best to play it cool, and held out the pack, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“I know, I know,” Sasha gently pulled one from the pack and placed it to her lips. “I’m one of those people. I only do it when I’m drinking and then I pretend I’m better than you when I’m sober. Get all your mockery out now, but give me a light first.”
“It’s a bad habit, Sasha. If you’re gonna do it, at least commit to it like the rest of us.” Tim teased, but he still did as he was told. Flicking the lighter to life, he held it to the end of cigarette dangling between her lips and watched it begin to glow, a glimmer of light bursting into the dark winter night.
They smoked in a comfortable silence, Tim finishing his cigarette before she did. He was content just to look at her, watching the rain land in little droplets on her glasses. He wondered how she could see through all that, but it didn’t seem to phase her. Tim always loved to watch Sasha, regardless of the situation. He loved to see her at work, watching her eyebrows furrow while she read through some particularly strange statement. He loved watching her when they’d go out for drinks, and she’d leave dusty pink lipstick stains on her glass. Watching her smoke was no exception - She held the cigarette so carefully, and was gazing off into the distance in a way that seemed almost dreamlike. Sasha had unwittingly become the one constant in Tim’s mess of a life, the person to show him kindness and his first real friend in years. Whenever things got too stressful or weird, he could turn his attention to her. She calmed and comforted him, all the while driving him crazy - Tim didn't think he’d ever felt that way about anyone before. He owed her more than he could ever express, at least not without sounding crazy. He was grateful, that’s all. He didn’t know what he would do without her.
His thoughts trailed off as he realised someone was talking to him. Shit.
“Hey- Hey!” Sasha had apparently finished, and was waving at him. “Earth to Tim? Hello?”
He blinked furiously and met her gaze. “Sorry, Sash - I was miles away.”
“What were you staring at?” She asked, curiosity piqued. “If you saw something cool, you have to tell me, y'know. That’s like, a condition of our friendship.”
“Well, first of all, I’m offended that you think our friendship is conditional. But no, nothing cool, I just…” Tim paused, unsure how to proceed. Telling her that he was staring at her could go well, sure, but it could also go horribly wrong. Knowing Tim, Sasha’d probably just think he was coming onto her. Not that he’d be against that, of course, but- It was just a mess. Still, it’s not like he could come up with a convincing lie. “I just think you look beautiful tonight. That’s all.”
Sasha froze, and turned her gaze towards the ground. Tim thought he could see the hint of a blush begin to spread across her face, despite her attempts to hide it. That’s the curse of being a redhead, Tim thought to himself, while mentally kicking himself for making her uncomfortable. Fuck.
“Easy there, Casanova.” She said with an awkward laugh, still not looking him in the eye. “We get it, you’re charming. You know I won’t fall for your nonsense. I think I’m immune to it.”
“I mean it! Really, I do.” Tim tried to focus all of his effort into making himself sound as genuine as possible. The last thing he wanted was for Sasha to think he was only trying to chat her up. She meant so much more to him than that. “I always think you look beautiful. It’s like you find new ways to take my breath away every single day.” Who made you think you weren’t beautiful?, he added silently.
Sasha just stared at him. It wasn’t like her not to shoot back with some witty remark, and Tim didn’t know whether to feel pride or guilt over her loss for words. The last thing he wanted was to damage their friendship, but he also needed to tell her eventually. He knew it was obvious, hell, some of the other researchers had started taking bets on how long it would be before the inevitable Tim/Sasha hookup. He hoped Sasha didn’t know about that, but to be honest, there wasn’t much that Sasha didn’t know.
“Okay.” She said softly, after what felt like an eternity. “You mean that? You aren’t just saying that, you aren’t just…” She trailed off. It didn’t need to be said. Tim knew he had kind of a reputation.
“I mean it, Sash.” There was an uncharacteristic softness to his voice - the usually loud, sarcastic, comical Tim stepping to one side for this conversation. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Sasha smiled, and Tim’s chest ached. He moved slightly, attempting to close the distance between them. She didn’t move away, and he took that as an invitation to continue. They stood only a few inches apart, and Tim looked straight down into her eyes. He was deaf to the sounds of the world around them, it was almost as if London had stood still just for them. If he listened hard enough, he thought he could hear the sound of Sasha’s heart beating.
“Can I kiss you?”
There was no response. Instead, Sasha closed the distance herself and pressed her lips against his. She tasted like cigarette smoke and the artificial sweetness of the vodka lemonade she’d been drinking inside. It was strange and lovely, and so very Sasha that Tim wanted to bottle it and keep it for himself, to taste it forever. He laughed into the kiss, and gently placed his hands on her waist, pulling her closer.
He couldn’t tell you how long they stayed like that, but the kiss grew deeper and more intense until Tim pulled away slowly, breathing hard. “Can I take you home, Sash?” He asked softly, still holding her. Tim watched her mentally weigh up the pros and cons, ever the academic, before she nodded.
“Okay. Let me get my coat.”
two.
Tim couldn’t help but feel like he’d fucked up. The last thing he had wanted to do was push Sasha away. And of course, she was still there. She hadn’t gone anywhere, she was still a permanent fixture in his life. She still sat at the desk next to him in their dingy little office, he still brought her coffee on his break, she still helped him out whenever he was particularly stuck trying to get information on whatever unlucky soul they had him researching. But it felt different. Off, somehow. Sasha didn’t text him outside of work anymore, didn’t send him silly cat videos anymore. When he brought her coffee, she said thanks, but she didn’t smile the way that she used to.
He knew what it was all about, of course. He may be an idiot sometimes, but he was never that oblivious. The moment he and Sasha had ended up in bed together, Tim was terrified something like this might happen. He’d done his very best to assure her that it wasn’t some sleazy hookup, that he respected and valued her so much more than she could ever know - but clearly it was no use. Sasha was avoiding him as much as she could without being unprofessional, and it was breaking Tim’s heart.
He did his best to cope with it. He tried spending more time with some of the other researchers, but most of them were boring or snobbish or mean, or a healthy combination of all three. They weren’t Sasha, and that was all that really mattered. And without Sasha’s “bad” influence, it was hard to enjoy the job he was doing, which meant all he had left was his bullheaded revenge mission. But looking into the circus only led him to dead ends, and left him frustrated and angry. Tim could feel himself withdrawing again, becoming isolated - and he didn’t like it. He was going to have to suck it up and talk to Sasha, try and fix things as best he could. But that meant getting her alone first - and she wasn’t making that easy for him.
Every time he’d try to have a word with her at work, she’d suddenly realise that she had somewhere to be. Gertrude had needed her help with something, or she was supposed to be going out for a follow up interview for a statement. Once, she looked around wildly for an excuse and, failing to find one, loudly professed that she had to go pee before tearing out of the room. Tim just sat there, staring at the spot she’d been standing in, while the other researchers looked at him in confused horror.
She couldn’t hide forever, and they both knew that. There was no way Sasha didn’t miss him too - she’d never exactly been friends with any of her other colleagues, and Tim knew her too well to think that she was content being alone. She’d been spending a lot of time with Jon in Tim’s newfound absence, but that wasn’t the same. He was nice and all, but… Not the kind of friend Sasha needed. So Tim decided just to wait.
One lonely evening, Tim lay sprawled across his sofa, endlessly scrolling through Netflix to no avail. It was the kind of night where he should probably have gone out, but he really wasn’t feeling it. He’d almost settled on a movie, some superhero flick that he couldn’t care less about, if he was being honest, when the sound of his phone buzzing against his coffee table made him stop.
Sasha: Hey. Can we talk?
Tim stared at the screen for a second. Of fucking course we can, he thought to himself. I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks. I miss you, he wanted to say. I haven’t stopped thinking about you, you’re the only person I ever want to talk to. He didn’t say any of that.
Tim: Sure. I’d like that. What’s up?
Sasha: I think I’d rather have this conversation in person, if that’s alright.
Can I come over?
Oh, fuck. Okay. Tim quickly took inventory of his surroundings, noting the rubbish piled in the corner where his bin had overflowed and he hadn’t bothered to empty it yet. There were dirty dishes laying in the kitchen sink, and he desperately needed to put some trousers on. But he wasn’t going to turn down this opportunity.
Tim: ‘Course you can. Give me like half an hour to get my shit together.
Sasha: See you soon.
. . .
His place wasn’t exactly clean, but it was passable. Tim just hoped Sasha wouldn’t look at it too hard. Speaking of Sasha, Tim definitely wasn’t pacing the length of his living room waiting for her. She was late - Not out of character, not really, she was always rushing around somewhere, forgetting things. Normally he found it endearing, but today, every passing second made Tim’s heart beat faster. When the doorbell finally rang, he swore he felt it stop for a second - but that wasn’t going to stop him from opening the door.
“Hi, Tim.”
And there stood Sasha, glasses fogged up from the rain, long red hair framing her features like a curtain. Her smile was as soft as her voice, and for a second, Tim managed to forget what she was here for.
“We need to talk.”
Aaaand there it was. Tim nodded, stepping to the side to let her in. She breezed past him, hovering awkwardly in his hallway, unsure where to go. She’d been in his house before, but he felt a wave of guilt wash over him when he realised she’d only ever been in his bedroom.
Tim cleared his throat. “My, uh, living room is through here.” He gestured vaguely. “If you wanna sit down. Do you want a drink or anything? I think I’ve only got beer though, and you… that’s not your thing, right?”
“I’m okay. Thanks for offering though. Very gentlemanly of you.” Sasha replied, before heading through into the living room and perching on the edge of his sofa. He wanted to tell her to make herself at home, ‘ mi casa es tu casa ’ and all that, but everything about her body language was screaming at him that she wanted to make this quick. She patted the sofa cushion next to her, an invitation that he gratefully accepted. Neither of them spoke for what felt like hours. Tim listened to the clock on the wall ticking obnoxiously, and prayed to whatever might be listening for Sasha to make the first move here.
Apparently God is dead, because she didn’t say a word (although Tim could have already told you that). She just sat there, biting her nails and staring at the ground.
“I thought you wanted to talk, Sash.” Tim said gently, trying to make sure his joke didn’t come across as malicious or cruel. “We’re not doing a whole lot of that here.”
Sasha let out a shaky laugh in response, shifting her gaze to look at him. “I know,” She said. “I just don’t know where to start. I had it all planned out in my head, everything I wanted to say but, now that I’m here- It feels different.”
“Let me try then.” Tim suggested. “I’ll say how I’m feeling, and we can go from there, okay? I miss you. Why are you avoiding me? Well, okay, obviously you’re avoiding me because we had sex. But.. Do you regret it?” He shot her a look, expression rich with feigned horror. “Was it that bad?” He asked in a low stage whisper.
Sasha gave him a gentle shove, an affectionate gesture that Tim had so desperately missed. The time they had spent not really talking hadn’t been long, only a week or so - but it had felt like years to him.
“No! Shut up, you idiot. It wasn’t bad. I’ve definitely had worse, don’t worry.” She said, knowing that Tim knew all of this already. Not to brag, but he was fairly confident in his abilities. He probably would have been crushed if Sasha had told him it was bad. He didn’t think he could live knowing he’d been disappointing. “I don’t think I regret it? At least, not in the way I normally regret one night stands. I don’t regret doing it. I just wish it hadn’t been you.”
“Gee, thanks.” Tim deadpanned.
“Not like that - it’s complicated.” Sasha was speaking carefully, almost like she was walking on eggshells. Tim could tell there was something she was trying to dance around, and it made him nervous. “I wish it wasn’t you because I know how much you care about me. I wish it wasn’t you because I care about you so much. I like you, Tim.”
“I should hope so - you’re my best friend, aren’t you?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Sasha let that hang over them for a moment, neither of them daring to speak next. Tim kept waiting for her to clarify, to say it wasn’t romantic, to say anything at all - but she didn’t. She just kept looking at him with those big, dark eyes. Tim wondered if maybe he should kiss her again, if now was the right moment, but he didn’t move. Instead, he spoke.
“Well… That’s not so bad, right?” He said. “You like me, you know I like you - everyone knows I like you. Two people who like each other hooked up. It happens. If anything, it’s the logical conclusion, right?”
“Maybe,” Sasha shrugged in response, but she looked guilty. “But it’s not going to happen again. Sorry, Tim.”
He didn’t say anything, just raised a quizzical eyebrow and hoped his face didn’t betray him. The last thing he wanted to do was look hurt.
“We work together. People talk.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “And before you say that nobody really cares, that’s not true. Nobody bats an eye about your sex life, but I’m not you, Tim. It’s not the same. I’m a woman in a field that already excludes me half of the time. I don’t need to give them a reason to freeze me out.” She was looking at the ground again, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of her skirt. “This is my career. I want to take over from Gertrude as head archivist someday. So I’m sorry, but either we forget this ever happened and go back to being just friends, or… I guess we’ll just be coworkers.”
Rejection hurt like a bitch, it always did - probably a side effect of Tim’s dopamine deficient brain, but it stung worse than usual when it came from Sasha. But he swallowed down the hurt and upset he felt rising within him, and forced himself to be rational here. Sure, this seemed strange and unfair to him. But he’d never been a woman in academia, and he’d never understand even if he tried. He had to take it all at face value - he had two options here: either he lose Sasha altogether, or he keep her as a friend. He knew which was the better option, even if he wasn’t happy about it.
“Well, it doesn’t look like I have a choice then, does it?” He said, his voice as even as he could manage. “I’m not gonna let you walk out of my life, Sash. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Tim extended his hand. “I’ll try to stop liking you if you try to stop liking me - Deal?”
“Deal.” Sasha smiled at him, shaking his hand. He tried not to think about how perfectly her hand fit in his, how natural it felt to hold it there. “I missed you so much - you have no idea how boring it was, avoiding you at work.”
“I get that a lot.” Tim said. “I’m the beating heart of the research department, everyone knows that.”
“Keep telling yourself that, pal.” Sasha rolled her eyes, a gesture Tim was sure she reserved just for him. He watched her hesitate briefly, turning a question over in her mind. “Hey, can I have a hug? Before we go back to normal?”
“You can hug me whenever you want. I thought you knew that.”
As soon as the words had left his mouth, Sasha shot forward in her seat, locking her arms around his waist, her face buried in his neck. Tim felt the gentle brush of her hair against his face, and had to remind himself to breathe. She held him tight, squeezing like it was the last chance she’d ever get. He prayed to God that it wasn’t. But just in case, Tim decided to take a risk. Leaning back, he bowed his head just a fraction, and pressed his lips to her forehead for barely a second - the ghost of a kiss.
“Maybe in another life, huh, Sasha?”
A hush fell over them, the only sound Tim could hear was Sasha’s quickened breaths. He waited for her to say something, but she only nodded in response.
three.
Some days were easier than others.
Some days, Tim woke up and felt like he could face the world. He could plaster on a smile and turn on the good old Stoker charm, and continue to waltz through his life. These were the days when his job seemed okay, and he joked and messed around and annoyed the ever living shit out of everyone.
Tim loved those days. He loved feeling like his old self again. He loved waking up in the morning and feeling the sun hit his face and thinking, y’know what? Maybe it’d be okay.
He just hated that they had to end. The darkness always came back, no matter how he tried to fight it off. No matter how much digging he did into Danny’s death, no matter how hard he tried to understand what it was that had stolen his little brother from him - there would always be nights where he woke up shouting and sweating, consumed with that intense, gut-wrenching fear once more. He tried to tell himself that it was a good thing. He tried to tell himself that as long as he felt the grief, the fear, the madness, then he would always be one step closer to getting his revenge. But the truth is he had no idea what his revenge was going to be, or if he was ever going to get it. It was nothing but a fairytale Tim had invented to catch himself, whenever he could feel himself falling off the deep end. And every so often, he would stumble.
Sasha was the first person who ever really noticed. Well, that wasn’t true. Other people noticed when he was a little bit off, of course they did. But it was nothing that he couldn’t shrug off with some lie about not getting enough sleep, or having a killer hangover, or just a bad case of the Mondays. People didn’t tend to dig any deeper than that. He could be a good liar when he wanted to. Sasha had never been like other people. She never asked prying questions, instead she watched him like a hawk. Any time he turned away from his work, he’d find her hovering by his side, making some silly comment in a thinly veiled attempt to coax out a genuine smile. When that didn’t work, she’d up the ante: inviting Tim out for drinks never failed, and if he said no , then Sasha had further proof that something was really wrong.
This time it was worse than usual. Tim had never had to call in sick because of it before. But that morning he woke up calling for Danny again, images of clowns and skin and blood still flickering behind his eyes whenever he dared to close them. There was no way he could make it through the work day without breaking down or throwing up, that much he was sure about. So he phoned in sick, muttering some excuse about a vomiting bug going around. They were politely sympathetic with a passive aggressive undertone, the way work always is. Tim assured them he’d be back tomorrow, before rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. Sleep didn’t seem feasible, but maybe he could just lie there and do nothing all day.
. . .
The next thing he remembered was being rudely awoken by a loud banging on his front door. He realised, with a groan, that this meant he’d fallen asleep again - despite his best efforts not to. At least, he could be grateful for the lack of nightmares, Tim supposed, before pulling a pillow over his head and attempting to drown out the noise. Whoever it was could piss off, as far as he was concerned. It was probably just someone trying to sell something anyway, he wasn’t exactly in the habit of having visitors show up unannounced. Unless it was his mum. God, he hoped it wasn’t his mum. No, it couldn’t be - she would have told him if she was coming all the way down to London to visit, and he was fairly certain he’d remember that conversation. So no, he wasn’t going to answer the door. He was going to lie in bed and pretend he wasn’t in.
Whoever it was, however, was apparently as stubborn as Tim, because they didn’t show any signs of going away. Once they realised knocking on the door wasn’t getting a reaction (or maybe their hands started to hurt from hitting the wooden door so much), they changed tactics, and started rattling his letterbox instead. Okay, now it was getting on his nerves. He wasn’t an angry man, at least, he tried his hardest not to be - but between the oversleeping and the nightmares, the mess that he called life was making it difficult today. So with a huff, he dragged himself out of his bed and made for the door, ready to tear whoever it was a new asshole. He mentally cycled through his repertoire to find the most biting insults he could think of, something witty that would sting for days to come. He’d almost found it when he reached the front door, and he paused, trying to compose himself. Tim ran a quick hand through his hair, trying to stop it from sticking up at odd angles. He wanted to come across as angry, not completely deranged (no matter if that was how he felt at the time).
Tim peered through the patterned glass panel on the door, trying to make out the person on the other side. It was no use - they’d apparently ducked to the ground to reach the letterbox, so he could see shit. Maybe if he came at it from a different angle, he could see the top of their head, but he didn’t think it was worth it. He wondered if they were leaning against the door, and was suddenly acutely aware that if he opened it right now, the person was likely to fall straight into his hallway. At least he could get something funny out of it that way, Tim mused, before a voice interrupted his train of thought. A woman’s voice called through the letterbox, sweet and strong, with an edge of worry:
“Hello? Tim? I know you’re in there.”
Shit.
Sasha.
He froze. Glancing down at the letterbox, he could see brown eyes peeking through at him.
“I can see you, y’know.” She said firmly. “Can you just let me in?”
Tim was silent.
“Look, I came all the way out here to see you. You know I don’t live anywhere nearby, and I’m gonna have to wait ages for a train if you don’t let me in.”
Did she really just try to guilt trip him? And worse than that, did it really just work? He opened the door with a heavy sigh, trying not to smile as he saw her sitting there on his doorstep. Sasha looked up at him with concern, her eyebrows furrowed. A gust of wind blew in from outside, and Tim shivered in his makeshift pyjamas (boxers and an old band shirt he’d had since university). Sasha stood up with a start, pulling her green coat around herself to protect from the cold.
“Did you come to play nurse?” He said, quickly regretting his choice of words as Sasha’s face crumpled in disgust. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”
“Already forgotten it.” She said with a small smile, but Tim knew it’d be tucked away in that amazing brain of hers, ready to be used as ammunition when time was right. “Can I come in? If you haven’t noticed already, it’s bloody freezing out here. And I’ve been sitting on your doorstep so long that my arse has gone numb.”
“I might get you sick, Sash.” Tim warned, but he stepped to the side anyway. Sasha just gave him a look, as if to say we both know that’s not true. She waltzed into his house with an air of familiarity that Tim knew wasn’t genuine. He knew she always felt weird in other people’s homes - she’d told him once that she never knew what to do with her hands. He didn’t say anything, just walked back into his bedroom, ready to hide under the sheets again and hoping Sasha would feel too awkward to follow him in. Spoiler alert, she wasn’t. She hovered in the doorway for a second, before striding over and sitting on the edge of his bed.
“This isn’t very appropriate, y’know.” He joked, a fruitless attempt to lighten the mood. “We work together. I should tell HR.”
“Like we have an HR department. You’d have to tell on me to Elias,” She leaned over to where he lay. “And we both know how much you hate talking to him.”
“That’s very true. He gives me the creeps.”
“He gives everyone the creeps, Tim. I think it might be in his job description at this point.”
Tim made a sound of agreement, and rolled over so he couldn’t see her anymore. It was pretty unlikely at this point that she was going to take the hint and leave, but hey, a man can dream. He listened to the quiet rustle of the sheets as Sasha shifted and fidgeted behind him. He’d only ever seen her this nervous once before, so he closed his eyes and braced for a serious conversation in 3, 2, 1…
“Talk to me, Tim.” Sasha’s voice wavered, and it almost made him lose it right there. Spilling his guts could be so easy, he could tell her everything and maybe the weight would be lifted from his chest. Maybe he’d be able to breathe. But it wasn’t that simple, was it? How the fuck was he supposed to explain?
“Nothing to talk about. I’ve caught a bug, it’ll probably be gone by tomorrow, so you can stop worrying about me.” He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could fob her off with that excuse, but it was worth a go.
“Please don’t treat me like I’m stupid.” She said, an edge of hurt in her voice. “I thought we were close enough not to lie to each other, after everything.” When he didn’t offer anything in response, she continued. “If you were really sick, you would have been texting me all night about it.” She fell back in a mock swoon, her hand pressed to her forehead, her red hair spilling across his pillow. “Oh, woe is me, oh Sasha, I think I’m dying- Oh Sasha, please clear my internet history before my parents come to get my things!”
“Excuse you. I’ll have you know I use incognito tabs.” Tim replied, turning slightly to face her again, before sighing. “But fine, you got me. I’m not sick. I’m just having a bad day, and I needed the rest. No big deal - It happens.”
Sasha gave him a sad smile. “There we go.” She spoke quietly, even though it was just the two of them. “I knew there was something bothering you. You can talk to me about it, you know - if you want to..” She reached out and grabbed one of his hands, holding it as if she were afraid it might break. “You can talk to me about anything. Always.”
“It’s not that simple.” He shook his head ever so slightly, feeling Sasha turn his hand over in his. It was a simple gesture, but it was so sincere and intimate that he had to swallow before he spoke, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “You won’t believe me, it doesn’t- it doesn’t sound true.”
“Try me.” She said firmly, locking eyes with him. “If it’s hurting you, I’ll take it seriously. I promise.”
Here goes nothing. Tim took a deep breath, and focused on making the words come out in the right order. As it turned out, once he started telling the story, it was hard to stop. Sasha didn’t make any comments, nodding along intently, eyes widening in shock at all the appropriate moments. She never let go of his hand, holding it tighter when it began to quiver. The only times she spoke were the moments he’d falter, recalling particularly graphic imagery, or a particular painful memory. She’d gently usher him along, telling him he didn’t have to say it if it was too hard - she’d do her best to mentally fill in the gaps. Tim remembered thinking to himself that she’d make a wonderful head archivist one day, if she would be this patient with the statement-givers. She was born to do that job, he thought. She made it easy to talk about the horrors he had seen, and when he was done, she pulled him into a hug. He rested his head on her shoulder, and basked in the silence for some time.
“Thanks, Sash.” He said, when he’d managed to calm down.
“No problem.” She watched him with concern, her eyes following his every move. “Did it help? Talking about it?”
“I think so. I feel less… heavy.” Tim paused for a beat. “Do you believe me?”
“If I’m being entirely honest,” Sasha sighed. “I’d love to say no. I’d love to say it sounds like a load of crap. But I worked in artefact storage, remember? The things I saw in there…” She shuddered, screwing her eyes shut. “I don’t think I can be skeptical anymore. So yes, I believe you. And I’m so sorry. Your brother, he sounded like a good guy.”
“The best.” He said, letting out a pained laugh. “You have no idea. You would have loved him, everyone did. And I’m pretty sure he would have loved you too.”
“Can you make me a promise, Tim?” She asked him, still holding him in her arms. Sasha felt him nod against her shoulder. “If it gets bad- When it gets bad again, please talk to me. I can’t let you deal with this all by yourself. One day you’re going to drown in it. I can’t let that happen.”
Tim pulled back slightly, looking her in the eyes. “Okay.” He promised, though he didn’t know if he could commit to doing that. “I think I can just about manage that.” He hesitated for a second, before leaning in and pressing a small, earnest kiss to her cheek. Sasha laughed, and turned her face away from him.
“Now, now.” She teased. “We’ve talked about this. Now I’m gonna have to tell on you to HR. Just because you’re sad doesn’t mean you get a free pass!”
“I was just saying thank you!” Tim protested, nudging her. “Seriously, Sasha. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Get yourself killed, probably.” She snorted.
“Or arrested.” He added.
“Exactly.”
four.
Gertrude’s disappearance came as a shock to the whole institute, but it hit Sasha particularly hard. Tim knew she’d always looked up to the older woman, and now she was gone, in a way that offered absolutely no answers or closure. Add to that the minor issue of selecting a new archivist, a.k.a Sasha’s ultimate dream job, and yeah. She’d been kind of a nervous wreck for the last few weeks.
It only got worse the morning that Elias strolled into their department, and asked everyone to gather around. Tim shot Sasha a grin and a thumbs up, and she just rolled her eyes at him. She kept saying that she didn’t want to get her hopes up, so Tim had taken it upon himself to get his hopes up on her behalf. She was practically guaranteed the job anyway, so what was the point in being cautious about it?
So imagine his surprise when Elias said that Jonathan Sims would be the new Head Archivist of the Magnus institute. Tim almost fell out of the chair he’d been haphazardly rocking in. Jon, seriously? Awkward, snobbish, unqualified Jon? Tim liked the guy well enough, sure, but did he think he was capable of running the department? Did Elias really think he was better suited for the job than Sasha, who’d been desperate for this? He turned his gaze to find Sasha, to check on her, and found her at Jon’s side, smiling and congratulating him. Of course. He watched her laugh at something Jon had said, before quietly excusing herself and leaving the room. There was no way Tim wasn’t going to go after her. He couldn’t bear to think of her upset and alone, she’d never let that happen to him. As Tim turned to follow her, he saw the other researchers crowd around Jon, chattering amongst themselves. The smaller man looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
Sasha had somehow managed to make herself disappear in the minute or so that she’d been out of eyeshot. Tim wandered the corridors of the old building, poking his head around doors and calling out apologies to the various employees he’d accidentally startled. None of them were Sasha. He paused outside of Artefact Storage, but he knew Sasha well enough to know there was no way she would willingly go into that place. Especially not if she was seeking comfort. He tried his best to check for her in the ladies toilets without looking like a total pervert, hovering outside for a couple of moments and listening for signs of life. When he heard nothing, he gave the door a gentle shove and it swung open with no resistance. Nobody in there. The only place left to check was the roof. He’d shown her how to get up there once, when they’d been researching a particularly horrible statement and she’d needed some air. She’d told him that she’d never been on a roof before, and he’d just smiled and told her not to fall off the edge.
He almost hadn’t expected her to be there - As far as he knew, she’d only gone up the one time and the heights in combination with the windy English weather hadn’t exactly made her feel secure, but there she was, sitting on the cold concrete ground with her knees tucked up to her chest. The sound of Tim opening the heavy door startled her, and her head shot up. Tim’s eyes were drawn straight to her tear-stained cheeks, and he tried his best not to stare. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Sasha cry before, and that wasn’t a streak he’d been looking to break. She sniffed and pulled off her glasses, wiping her eyes in an attempt to straighten herself up.
“Wondered how long it’d take you to come chasing after me.” She said, with as much composure as she could muster up, given the circumstance. “You’re starting to get predictable, Stoker.”
He made his way towards her cautiously, the way one might approach a wounded animal. He wasn’t afraid that he’d spook her or anything, that she’d run off into the wilderness never to be seen again - Sasha was strong and brave, no matter what impression she might have of herself. Tim was worried that she might close herself off to him if he was too direct. She’d choke down the hurt and upset and vulnerability, and the shields would go straight back up in their place. He wasn’t going to let that happen - if he wasn’t allowed to drown in his feelings, then she sure as hell wasn’t allowed to either.
“Who said I was looking for you?” He shot back, coming to a halt and sitting down at her side. “Just needed some air - I couldn’t breathe in there, Jon’s ego was taking up too much room.”
“Be nice, Tim.” She turned her gaze to the floor, absentmindedly fidgeting with her shoelaces. Tim watched her carefully, taking in all of the little details he could pick out. The way her hair fell around her face like a curtain, blocking him from seeing her face, shielding her from his prying eyes. Curled in on herself like that, Sasha looked so small and fragile. He wasn’t used to seeing her like that - in his eyes, Sasha was tall and beautiful and powerful, almost like some ancient goddess. “It’s not his fault.” She added after a moment, barely audible.
“I know that. But it’s still not fair. And I don’t see him saying anything about it - he has to know you’re the most qualified person in the whole department. He has to know how badly you wanted this.” Tim did his best not to sound like he was arguing with her - that’s not what this was. “It’s not fair at all, and nobody seems to give a fuck. They’re all too busy kissing Jon’s ass. It makes me sick.”
“What was he supposed to do? Turn down a promotion?” Sasha asked. “Maybe you’d do that, but I wouldn’t, and I can tell you right now that Jon wouldn’t dream of it. That guy’s the biggest workaholic I’ve ever met, he’s always working. I’m not entirely convinced he doesn’t sleep here.”
She sighed, and lifted her head to look up at him before continuing. “Nobody notices me here, Tim. Sure, maybe Gertrude liked me - but she’s not here anymore. I’ve never so much as had a full conversation with Elias. I don’t think he even remembers my name half of the time. Honestly, you could replace me with a completely different person and they’d all be none the wiser.”
“I’d notice.” Tim’s voice was firm, he couldn’t stand to hear her talk about herself this way. If he could see her through his eyes - God, he wanted to show her that more than anything in the world. “I’d lose my mind trying to find you, Sash, you know that. You’re my best friend, and you’re stuck with me.”
“I know you would.” Sasha gave him a small smile. “That’s not the point I was trying to make. All I meant was that I never expected to get the job. I bet Elias didn’t even consider me.” She snorted, continuing: “ You were probably more likely to get the job than I was. Now that is something I might actually have been angry about. But Jon… Jon will do fine. I’m happy for him.”
“You’re allowed to not be okay with it, y’know.” said Tim. “You can feel things. You can be hurt and upset and angry all you want. You can sit up here and scream it all out into the void.”
“Oh, I have feelings about it.” She replied, pushing her hair back behind her ears. “Yes, it hurts, yes, I’m upset, yes, I might go home and cry about it after a glass of wine - but above all of that, I have to be professional. And anyway, Jon’s my friend. I’m not going to damage my relationship with him just because some rich bastard decided he deserved a job more than I do. It’s not worth all of that. I’ll feel my feelings in my own time, okay?”
Tim considered this. Typical Sasha, putting her career over her feelings. No, that wasn’t fair. Whatever had gone down between the two of them wasn’t relevant, even if it felt like it was. But at least she was consistent. Tim knew her more intimately than anyone, as far as he was aware, bar maybe her family or old childhood friends (but he’d never had the pleasure of meeting any of them). He knew her quirks, her ideals and her tempers better than he’d ever known anyone. And he knew that in most regards, they could not be more different. While Tim was all emotions, impulsions and passions; Sasha was logical and compassionate. She took the time to think things over and consider all sides before acting. It was something that he’d always admired her for, but he couldn’t help but think maybe a little bit of anger would be cathartic for her. Maybe she could stand to be a little bit more Tim - but she was as stubborn as he was, and no matter how hard he pushed, there was no way on earth she was going to budge.
“Okay.” He agreed finally, but he wished there was more he could do to help. “I don’t know how much weight my opinion holds, considering I don’t know shit about being an archivist. But for what it’s worth, I think you would have been perfect. There’s nobody in the world I’d rather describe unfathomable horrors to.”
“Stop,” Sasha said, sarcasm laced through her words. “You’re just saying that. I bet you say that to all the girls.” She teased, but there was a layer of sincerity and gratitude behind her words, and Tim couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief wash across him. Sometimes he worried that all the jokes got in the way of their relationship, that maybe she couldn’t tell how much he genuinely cared for and loved her. He thought the world of her, and he couldn’t bear it if it went unnoticed.
“Only to pretty redheads who are clever enough to run circles around me.” He didn’t bother to hide the hint of flirtation that crept into his voice - they both knew it was there anyway.
“Sorry, I’m not into tall brunettes with attitude problems.” Sasha shot back.
“C’mon, I’m not that tall - you’re taller than me when you wear heels.” Tim replied, pleading with her. “We can make it work, just give me a chance.”
Sasha smiled and hummed thoughtfully, leaning against his shoulder. “Maybe,” She said. “Maybe one day. If you’re really good.”
Tim felt a shiver run down his spine, but he couldn’t decipher whether it was from the cold or from the physical contact. Sasha had been a lot more affectionate with him lately, ever since they’d spent that ‘regrettable’ night together. It was understandable, of course, it’s hard to go back to normal after being that intimate - but every time she touched him he felt like he’d been struck by lightning. It was like every hair on his body stood on its end at once. He never wanted it to end, so he gingerly reached out and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her. Sasha didn’t complain, just shifted herself closer to him.
“Well, then I’ll be on my best behaviour.” said Tim, and he meant it. “Anything for you, Sash.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, her face fitting perfectly into the crook of his neck, and Tim wished for that moment to last forever. He could die like this, he thought. He’d be perfectly content to rot with her.
“Hey, Tim?” Sasha asked, after some contemplation. Her voice was uneasy, unsure, like she was looking for something she wasn’t sure she wanted to find. “Can you do something for me?”
“Of course.” He said, her tone making him nervous. “Didn’t I just say I’d do anything for you?” Tim paused. “Within reason, obviously.” He added as an afterthought - but it was hard to think of something he wouldn’t do for her. She pulled herself out from under his arm, shuffling herself backwards on the ground. With a slow, deliberate movement, she lifted her hand and gently brushed her fingers against his cheek.
“Kiss me again?” Tim searched Sasha’s voice for any sign that she might be joking, but he couldn’t find anything. She was deadly serious, but he hesitated anyway. “Just once, come on.”
Tim leaned in, and kissed her cheek. It was sweet, light, and non-committal: Exactly the kind of thing that had become common practice between the two. Exactly what Tim thought she had been looking for, but Sasha pulled away from him and shook her head.
“That’s not what I meant.” She said, firm and resolute. “Do it properly.”
“Sasha, I don’t think- I mean, we’ve talked about this. We’ve been here before. It’s not-” He protested, trying his best to be rational. It wasn’t his biggest strength, to be fair, but it was worth a shot. Sasha cut him off before he could make any real points, holding a finger up to his lips to shut him up. He obliged. As always.
“Please.” There was a look in her eyes that Tim had never seen before. She looked lost, and he hated it. “You’re the only one who sees me. I just want to feel seen.”
Was it the right thing to do? He didn’t know. They’d agreed to not act on their feelings for the greater good, whatever that was meant to mean. It had been for the sake of Sasha’s career though, he supposed, and that wasn’t exactly a huge factor right now. Unless Jon cracked under the pressure immediately and quit but Tim didn’t see that happening. So it was okay, right? It was okay to do it just this once, to make Sasha feel seen and appreciated and loved. It was right if it was to make her happy. At least, that’s how he justified it to himself when he placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her, letting all the tension that had built up between them melt into her lips. She made a small noise in response, almost like a sigh of relief, and kissed him back. It felt right. Tim didn’t let himself indulge in thinking about her, not very often, not anymore - but moments like that always made him feel like they were meant to be together. She understood him better than anyone else, and sometimes he felt like he was the only person who’d ever truly known Sasha James. To everyone else she was a background character, a stranger that floated in and out of their lives - but Sasha was the centre of his universe, second only to his brother.
Like all moments that he managed to steal with her, it was over too soon, blown out like a candle as she broke the kiss and smiled at him. Tim knew this wouldn’t fix anything, wouldn’t make her feel like she truly belonged in the Institute, no matter how desperately he wanted her there. And it wouldn’t miraculously bring them together, she was never going to compromise anything for some guy - but at least it made him feel like he was doing something . At least it reminded him that she felt the same way, even if she hid it under so many layers.
“Thank you.” Sasha didn’t need to say anything else. Tim already knew the rest. That was the last time. We can’t do this. All that good stuff.
She sniffed, and wiped her eyes one last time, adjusting her glasses and smoothing her skirt. Standing up, she offered Tim a hand and he graciously accepted. Sasha pulled him up to stand beside her and she smiled.
“We should probably head back inside, huh?” She said, slowly heading back towards the door. “They’re probably all wondering where we disappeared to, and you know they love to gossip.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.” He called after her. “They’re probably still too busy fawning over Jon.”
“Speaking of Jon,” Sasha turned back around to face him. “Go congratulate him, would you? It’s not his fault, and I know he’d appreciate the support. He likes you.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Tim snorted incredulously. “Now you’re just making things up.”
“He does! He’s just not great at showing it.” She said. “You should talk to him sometime. Properly. Jon’s a sweet guy. Besides, if you’re really nice to him, maybe he’ll let you be his assistant.”
“Sure, he will. As soon as hell freezes over.”
five.
The job was starting to freak Tim out more and more by the day. Not that it had ever been a walk in the park, but after what he’d seen with Danny - let’s just say it wasn’t his biggest concern. But now, with Martin living in the archives, and whatever the hell had just happened to Sasha, maybe it was starting to get to him a little. But that didn’t matter for the time being. At that exact moment, he was going to be there for Sasha - that was all that mattered.
When she’d arrived at work that morning, slightly dishevelled and blood soaking through her blouse, the entire staff had been alarmed, of course. Martin had even dropped the mug he was holding, ceramic and tea splashing across the old faded carpet. Sasha didn’t even look bothered, just politely asked where Jon was and said she needed to speak to him about something. Yeah, no shit. Tim had made a beeline for her, dropping whatever he was holding and fussing over her, trying his damnedest not to seem panicked. What happened, he wanted to say. Who did this to you? What did this to you? He didn’t say any of that, just looked her in the eyes and asked her if she was okay. Sasha only nodded in response, holding her head up high. Tim could have cried right there and then. This shouldn’t have happened to her, she shouldn’t have to deal with this shit. This fucking place was going to get them all killed. He didn’t tell her that either, instead he racked his brain to find something he could do to help her. In the end, he told her he was going to get her a coffee, and he left. He felt completely powerless. She appreciated the gesture more than he would ever know.
By the time he’d got back, having ventured out to the nearest Starbucks to get her something that wasn’t shitty canteen coffee (and to escape the archives for a little while), she was done talking to Jon, and Tim found her sitting alone in the archives, in the back room Martin had been living out of. She was perched on the edge of the makeshift bed, staring at nothing in particular.
“Hey, Sash.” He knocked on the open door before walking in, not wanting to startle her. He still wasn’t sure exactly what it was that she’d been through, but the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel any worse. “I got that coffee for you. Even went out and got you a fancy iced one - I know they’re your favourite.”
She looked up at him, giving him a half-hearted smile in response. She looked distant, as if her mind was elsewhere. “Thanks, Tim.” Her voice was hoarse, and he wondered if she’d been crying. He hoped not. “I, uh- I’m going home in a bit. Jon’s given me a couple days off. I just wanted to see you before I go.”
“Aww, thanks. I know, I’d miss me too.” Tim didn’t know if joking was the right approach to this, but Sasha didn’t seem to mind. Besides, it was his automatic response. He sat down on the floor in front of her, passing her coffee up to her. She took it from him, and started to drink it quietly. “I don’t want to pry - you can tell me to fuck off if you want, I understand but- Something happened, right? Something… Wrong.”
“What gave it away?” She laughed, gesturing towards her shoulder, which had clearly been bandaged since he’d last seen her. “Yeah, you got it. Guess that makes three of us now, huh? Who’ve been caught by… something. Me, you, and Martin - it’s almost like an initiation ritual at this point.” Sasha paused. “You’re not getting as much detail as Jon did, but sure. I can talk about it.”
The story wasn’t easy to listen to, and Tim couldn’t help but feel as if he should have been there to help her - but he knew that was irrational. Sasha hadn’t needed help, she’d stood her ground and rolled with the punches, and she’d come out the other side basically fine. Sure, she was injured, but “Michael” or whatever it was, hadn’t hurt her just for the sake of hurting her. It had pulled a worm from her flesh, and happened to injure her in the process. If he’d learned anything from the screeds of weird bug-related statements that Jon had them trawling through in the past few weeks, it was that letting them get under your skin was bad news. Whatever Michael was, whatever he served and whatever his attentions were - he had saved Sasha from becoming something horrifying, and Tim couldn’t help but be grateful. Still, he cast his eyes over her arm, where her shirt was too tight around the bandaged wound, and felt nothing but fear. When she was finished talking, she watched him carefully, patiently awaiting any kind of response.
“I think you should quit, Sasha.” He said finally. “You should find another job. Before this - or something like it - happens again.”
He expected her to protest - to offer some kind of argument by why she couldn’t quit. Tim knew her well enough to know that her curiosity had to be getting the best of her. She was an academic by nature, knowledge was the fuel she needed to survive. There was no way she was going to turn her back on something like this, something so intricate and layered that it would take years to fully uncover. Instead, much to his surprise, she didn’t say any of that. She folded her arms and looked him dead in the eyes.
“Only if you quit too.” She said, her voice hard and serious. “If you promise to leave with me, I’ll think about it.”
Oh, she was clever. Sasha knew that Tim needed answers, answers he was only ever going to get from somewhere like the Magnus Institute. There were still too many unanswered questions for him to quit now.
“You know I can’t do that.” He replied, shaking his head. “But we’ve talked about this before - you wanted to leave. You were going to leave. You said it yourself - there’s nothing tying you to this place. So for the love of God, get out before you get hurt. Please.”
“That was before.” Sasha said coolly. This was the closest thing to an argument they ever had. She kept her voice level and calm, but she made it clear that there was no way she was going to budge. They either both leave, or neither. “Now it’s interesting. There’s something going on, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
Tim felt utterly defeated, knowing that there was no way he could possibly convince his best friend to save herself from this.
“Sash, you’re all I have left. You’re the only thing in my life worth saving. Let me at least try.” He did everything he could to keep the desperation out of his voice, but they both knew he was failing miserably. Instead it came out as a plea, the desperate begging of a lonely man slowly running out of things to lose. “I can’t lose you too.”
Sasha pulled herself up off the makeshift bed, looking down at her friend sitting before her on the floor. Tim watched her almost in a state of awe, gazing up at the woman who’d given a renewed sense of purpose to his life. She looked more determined than he’d ever seen her, and he fell in love with her all over again. There was no doubt in his mind that she was stronger than he’d ever been (and would ever be) - he just wished that she didn’t have to be. He wished that she’d just been allowed to be the sweet, sarcastic little geek that she was with him in private. He imagined that she hadn’t ended up here, mixed up in the middle of whatever mess this was… He’d like to meet that Sasha, Tim thought to himself, but he had to remind himself that she wasn’t his.
His Sasha was leaning over him, and cupping his face with all the tenderness of fresh snow kissing the ground. “I appreciate the concern,” She said, almost whispering in the tiny room, although she had been assured that it was soundproof. “But I can look after myself. I’m a big girl, Tim, I don’t need a knight in shining armour.”
“Fine.” He said, just as quiet. “You said you’d go if I did - So I’ll go too. Let’s run away from it all. Together.”
“We both know we aren’t going to do that.” He knew that was true, but he hated hearing it out loud. To her credit, Sasha was always honest with him. This was the first time that Tim had ever resented her for it. “You’ll stay for Danny. I’ll stay because I need to. It’s a nice idea, sure, but we’d turn back almost immediately. We have to see it through- but at least we can do that together, right?” Her face came dangerously close to his, the warmth of her breath brushing against his skin.
“Together,” He breathed. “Yeah, I think- I think maybe I can manage that. I’ve got your back, if you’ve got mine.” Sasha only hummed in response, before leaning in close. Without warning, she kissed him on the lips, firm and deliberate, eyes closed and smiling into it. Tim jerked his head back in shock. Sure, they’d kissed before but - it didn’t normally go like this. Sasha never made the first move, just so she could hold it over his head later ( “Well, you’re the one who started it!”) when it inevitably went south.
“Hey- What are you doing?” Tim blurted out, the words crashing from his mouth and piercing through the quiet that had fallen over the room. She reared back, expression hurt and confused. Shit. “Hey, wait. No. I didn’t-” He cursed himself under his breath. “I didn’t mean to push you away, I just- We don’t do that, remember?”
“I think we’re done pretending at this point, don’t you?” Sasha responded softly, brushing her hand across his cheek. “I’m done pretending this is a normal job, and I’m done pretending you don’t drive me crazy. Let’s just let it happen.”
That was all Tim needed to hear. He pulled Sasha down to his level with a kiss, and in one swift motion, tipped her into his lap. He kissed her as if his life depended on it, and for a fleeting moment, he felt like maybe it did. Tim didn’t think he could go on without her. His best friend, the love of his life, his reason to keep going. The ray of sunshine in his otherwise bleak day. It was different this time - this wasn’t like kissing in the rain outside that pub, full of desire and unspoken feelings they were just drunk enough to act on. And it wasn’t like that day on the roof, when she’d kissed him just to feel something. This was different. They kissed like it was the last normal, real thing they had in the world. Like they were afraid it would disappear too if they stopped.
But they couldn’t stay like that forever, no matter how much they wanted it. “Duty calls,” Tim said, pulling back with a small, sad smile. “Sorry, Sash. Jon’ll kill me if I don’t get back to work at some point.”
Sasha groaned, struggling to pull herself up from where she was sat. “Just go get yourself attacked by something horrible.” She suggested. “You deserve the time off.”
“I think I’ll pass on that one.” He said, adjusting his shirt where it had come slightly untucked from his trousers. “Do I look professional?”
“Do you ever?” Sasha laughed, reaching up to smooth down an unruly lock of his hair. “You look presentable, I guess. At a push.”
Tim made his way over to the door, mentally preparing himself to head back into the hellhole that was the archives. He looked back to Sasha, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re going to be okay, right? Text me if you need anything.”
“‘Course I will.” The confidence in her voice didn’t quite reach her eyes. “To be continued, okay?”
“To be continued.”
+ one.
A lot had changed since Jane Prentiss attacked the archives. Tim had changed a lot since Jane Prentiss. Physically, of course - he’d never really had any scars before, and now he found it difficult to look in the mirror. It felt like he was branded with the fear he’d felt in those tunnels, and no matter what, it’d never leave him. But he’d changed mentally too, the anger and paranoia and all-consuming fear that had been boiling under the surface ever since Danny’s death had finally spilled over. People were finally beginning to see him as the monster he’d always known he was. It was there in Jon’s judgemental glares, the eyes that never stopped following him, not even for a second. It was there in the way Martin shot him worried glances, in the slowly diminishing cups of tea as he started to avoid Tim more and more. It was there in Elias’ passively mocking tone whenever Tim dared to complain about any of the crazy bullshit that was going on in the institute. The grief, the trauma, the anger - they were swallowing him whole and nobody cared enough to notice. It had changed so much from the weird little job he’d found himself comfortable in. Everything had changed.
Sasha stayed the same. Well, mostly.
She didn’t look at him differently the way that the others did - she didn’t seem suspicious of him, or afraid. She just watched him, with the curious eyes he was oh-so familiar with. Sasha still sat with him at lunch, still brought him coffee when they were having a particularly hard day. She was still his Sasha, the same as she ever was.
Sasha never changed, but their relationship did. After the “incident” with the worms, she started to drift away from him. No explanation, and no awkwardness. Just a shift. It was fine, Tim told himself. He didn’t blame her. They’d both been through a lot, maybe she just didn’t have the time or energy for a relationship like that any more. It was fine. He tried not to let the hurt show. He tried not to bring it up.
It only came up once. They were out drinking, he’d gone out for a cigarette. Same shit, different day. When Sasha walked out of the door and strode towards him, it was too familiar to ignore. He was used to this little routine by now. Tim grinned at her, and held out the pack of cigarettes, a silent invitation. She just looked at him blankly, and shook her head.
“I don’t smoke, Tim.” She said, her voice even and unaffected. “You know that. I just thought you would like some company.”
Tim blinked. Maybe she was quitting completely, he thought. Maybe she’d gotten tired of him making little digs at her about it. Still, he couldn’t help but find it odd.
“Oh. Yeah, yeah of course.” He kept up the act, smiling away. “I know that. I was just offering. Just in case.”
They stood together in silence for a while, a gesture Tim could have sworn used to be more comfortable. He used to bask in her presence, but now he just felt uneasy, on edge. He guessed that she’d been right - when they’d had that talk lying in his bed. God, that felt like years ago. They’d crossed a boundary that they couldn’t take back, and their friendship would never feel the same again. Just one more thing to mourn, to add to the burning pile of grief in the pit of his stomach. It was growing bigger with every passing day. He tried to distract himself, turning his attention to his old favourite hobby - watching Sasha. She was looking off into the distance, watching some people having an argument across the street. Classy, he thought to himself. She was beautiful as always, he couldn’t help but notice that. Her blonde hair glowed an icy white under the streetlights, and it almost seemed to illuminate the night around her. His heart ached to see her, and it became increasingly clear to him that he couldn’t just let his thoughts go unspoken. Not these ones.
“Sasha-” Tim broke the silence between them, then immediately regretted it when she turned to look at him, feeling her sharp eyes gaze right into his soul. Fuck. “I, uh… No, never mind.”
“No, no.” She gave him a curious smile, looking him up and down. “What is it? Talk to me, Tim.”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to anymore, but the way she was looking at him - He couldn’t just leave her hanging. It wasn’t fair on either of them.
“You never called me.” He said, trying to keep his voice even, and failing. “After the worms, after Prentiss - you didn’t call me, or text me, or anything. I didn’t hear from you until I went back to work.” He laughed nervously, willing himself to come across more light-hearted than he felt. “I thought- I thought we were getting somewhere, I thought we’d finally worked it all out and then… You didn’t call me. And we just fell back into what we were before. Which is fine, really, I love being your friend, I just thought- I don’t know.”
Sasha didn’t say anything for a long time, just stared up at him. Tim could almost see the cogs turning in her head, it was like he was watching her try to come up with a way to let him down gently. He must have changed too much, he told himself. It must be the ugly scars that now racked his body, or maybe she could tell he was becoming something else - She could see the dark parts of him now, and she didn’t like them. He understood that, he didn’t like them either. But they were as much a part of him as his arm or leg, at this point. It was a package deal: Tim plus all of his baggage.
“I just think it’s dangerous.” Sasha said after what felt like an eternity. “Don’t you? After what happened in the tunnels…” She paused, and gave a dramatic shudder. “I just don’t think I can do it anymore. I think you’ve lost too much already, if we were together, and you lost me too- I couldn’t put you through that.”
“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” Tim said, adamantly, his voice coming out louder than he intended. He made a mental note of the fact that she didn’t mention her feelings towards him - would losing him not hurt her? Would it just be another day on the job?
“Oh, I’m sure you would do your best to protect me.” She agreed, but her voice quickly changed to a much less caring tone. “But I bet you would have said that about your brother too, and… Well, I don’t have to explain.”
That hit him like a punch in the gut, and he couldn’t stop the shock from spreading across his face like a rash.
“I’m sorry, that was harsh.” Sasha said, quickly backpedalling. “I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just the alcohol talking, I think.” She offered him an apologetic smile, and Tim tried his hardest to accept it, but it didn’t quite soothe the pain.
Tim could feel the one good thing he had left slipping away from him, and he didn’t know how to get it back. Sasha had always been so bright, so kind, but now she seemed so distant, almost cold. He didn’t know what he’d done to make her switch up so fast. Maybe she was telling the truth, maybe she was just afraid of one of them getting hurt but… Sasha had always been the bravest person he’d ever known, even if she couldn’t recognise that in herself. The Sasha he’d known before, the one he’d held and kissed and loved … She would have been willing to take that risk, after everything that they had been through together. Maybe Prentiss had changed her too. Maybe it was just less obvious.
Still, Tim was growing desperate. She turned to go back into the pub, the awkward energy between them clearly becoming too much for her, and Tim gently reached out and touched her arm. She stopped, looking at him quizzically, almost daring him to make his next move. In a desperate, awkward, stupid last-ditch effort to hold onto his happiness, Tim kissed her. Sasha kissed back, only for a moment, cautiously, as if she were just testing the waters. But ultimately, she pulled away, leaving Tim staring at her.
“Sorry, Tim.” She said, her voice full of a pity that made Tim want to scream. “You’re still my best friend, and all but- I think that chapter’s over now.” Sasha turned, and made her way back to the pub, opening the door.
“And by the way,” Sasha called out to him. “I’m actually seeing someone. Super recent, but I figure I should mention it if you’re going to go around trying to kiss me.” She tried to sound lighthearted but it was weird, disjointed, like her voice wasn’t made for it. “No hard feelings right?” Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared into the bustle of the busy pub, leaving Tim outside in the cold.
“Yeah. No hard feelings.” He muttered, to nobody in particular.
And just like that, Tim Stoker was officially, truly, completely alone.