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Tim was a simple man. He was once able to make friends and laugh everything away. He was once a man able to grin everything away when with friends that tore fears away... Tim was a simple man.
Of course, things were bound to change. He wasn't a simple man to put it simply, but he refused to acknowledge such a thing. He was happy now, why should he admit such defeat? He favored being regarded as 'normal.'
The changes? It was from the creature 'The Operator.' The creature... Faceless, tall and feared. Tim was damn near convinced he created the creature. He was convinced he caused all of the pain, all of the suffering. He was convinced he was the true reasoning why the murders had occurred, why the friendships had to be cut so horribly short.
It was easily his fault. All connections pointed towards Tim.
The conclusion to the story had to be Tim's death, but.. Tim's refusal to fall to Alex's words proved to be worthwhile. Seeking help to deal with the events he had witnessed (And supposedly Caused,) helped the man tremendously. Tim, although not fully opening up, for obvious reasons, had been able to finally share some previously ignored, suppressed, childhood trauma.
Years passing since the horrid event, everything grew easier to deal with. He was supplied ways to deal with any on-going negative developments in his mind. Such as, medication or stress relievers.
Even in later years, Tim was still plagued with the horrid thoughts and fears, nightmares of losing friends, killing friends, seeing things, just everything in general... It always crawled back to him, haunting him.
Perplexed, Tim always thought ways of rid himself of said burden, but no matter what, as always, it found its way back.
Which, of course, rendered Tim useless and immobile in bed. Depression and PTSD mixed with his unnamed illness was just torture at it's finest. The torment of his mind was nearly enough to bring the poor man to end it all. Tempting, really, but turned away by Tim each and every time the temptation had hit him. He couldn't let Alex win... No, he couldn't let the fucking operator win.
Removing himself from Alabama was the solution.
It was so obvious, It was looking him in the eyes the whole time!
And, saying it helped was an understatement.
The nightmares seemed to diminish, the fears, the thoughts, everything, it all had quieted down. Although all remained, it seemed to become easier to deal with. He escaped the world of constant abuse of the mind, now residing in a state with the lack of wooded areas. Rare to come along, especially in the warm climate of the desert. The inability to grow many forests brought Tim comfort.... He even quit smoking.
It seemed to be the perfect conclusion to the story Tim had to suffer through. Finally happy in a place, finally healing. All seemed to be well...
Until..
Until...? There always had to be a catch in Tim's life, huh?
It was night. Everything has to go wrong during the nighttime.. Why'd it always have to be night?
Tim was happy, of course he was. He lived in a wonderful neighborhood, filled with quiet neighbors and wonderful children that always said 'Hello!' to Tim when he happened to come across them.
Tim had taken his medication, brushed his teeth, finished his work.. He had an accomplished day. A good day... A happy day.
He had finally gotten around to watching a show all of his friends recommended to him! .. His work friends. His new friends.
He even grabbed some snacks, and drinks. A binge was to be completed, as he had days off. Why not use them efficiently?
The last thing he had expected was to hear a knock upon his door. It was nearly midnight, so obviously he was shocked. Perhaps it was a neighbor? The neighbor kids tended to play outside much longer during weekends, so perhaps they were out, maybe lost a ball?
No. They are usually inside by sundown.. No parent on this block was reckless.
Was someone in danger?
No, no. But what if?
It wouldn't hurt to check. So, he got up, albeit cautiously.
He looked out the peephole, but.. He saw someone whom looked familiar. And it terrified him. Tim pulled the door open slightly, and his eyes failed to deceive him. Looking at the ground behind the figure, he saw the shadow.
This wasn't a simple hallucination, Tim was quick to realize. This was a real person. This was Brian, his lost 'love', his only best friend... His only best friend who was thought to be dead....
His only friend who was confirmed dead.
Tim pulled the door open fully.
Brian's posture was hunched, he appeared to be hurt. His old hoodie stained red in blotches, off and bunched up in his arms. He held it as if it were a swaddled baby. Why did he hold it as such?
Hell, the white shirt that replaced his usual hoodie was reddened. How had Brian not been reported to the police?
"Brian..?"
The man cracked a grin, eyes bright as they day they last saw Tim. Glee, happiness, shone in his eyes. Shown to be relieved to see Tim.
"The one and only," Brian spoke, barely above a whisper.
".. How're you alive...?"
"I could be asking you the same question!"
His smile was goofy, despite the situation he was in. "Can I come in?"
"Uh, yeah, sure.." Tim stepped to the side, allowing the man to come in. "How'd you get here..?"
The man simply shrugged, pulling the bundle closer to himself, limping inside. "Can't remember." He spoke honestly.
"You're hurt, sit down, I got some stuff.." gesturing towards the couch vaguely, Tim left towards the bathroom, looking for anything to help aid Brian with his pain and injuries.
As Brian finally sat upon the couch, he finally got a good look at what he held so protectively.
It was an infant, asleep.
He was unsure of why he had the child, but he felt the need to protect it. Sure, of course he was shocked to see the small child in his arms, but what can he do? He had an idea of where the infant came from, but he didn't have the need to dwell on it for long.
Hunching even more, he brought a hand up to gently swipe his thumb against the soft skin of the infant. He hummed gently before fixing the hoodie that acted like a blanket to fit more comfortably around it.
... Don't dwell on it, Brian told himself, It's not worth it.
Tim returned soon, seeing as Brian looked up, grin settled upon his face, making itself home. Familiar, that what it was.
The smile was familiar. It had a familiar warmth to it, and Tim couldn't help but enjoy it.
He smiled back.
Sitting next to Brian, he handed the man some mere Advil and water, while Tim checked for possible injuries.
"Now.. Brian, if you don't mind me asking, why the hell are you holding your jacket like that?"
"Oh, yeah." He simply showed Tim the child.
".. Brian why do you have a kid with you?"
"Dunno.."
Brian simply leaned against Tim, still holding the infant with one arm.
"Think I'm gonna call her Evelyn."