☽✧☾ Tim was a good boy. Always had been, even at his worst he knew to keep his eyes in their sockets. You don't oggle, you don't stare. It was especially important for him, being so deep in the closet he was picking lint from between his teeth; not from shame or anything of the sort, simply out of necessity. Small town with a lot of older, old-fashioned folks. And it was just easier to...not bring it up at all.
"It's weird. Sometimes the rooms just...HAVE things. If I think about something a little too hard, or I think "man, it'd be nice if I had something like this" the thing will just. Be in the room. I still have to find it, dig it out, make sure it works the way it's supposed to, but the Thing will be in the room. The whiteboard, markers, the stovetop, duffel bags, a file box...just idle thoughts for something useful, and there it is. Food is harder to come by, but it still shows up sometimes, too."
His hands stilled, mentally using the excuse that he was waiting to make certain the radiator was heating up properly. But he knew, he was very acutely aware, that he was staring, watching Alan getting changed. Ridiculous flashbacks to being a stupid, reckless college dropout with a crush, keeping his mouth shut about it because Alan had been married and had obviously been struggling at the time. Angry. Impatient. Distressed. Lost. Desperate. Terrified. Vague memories of taking care of him with Sarah during his blackouts, making stupid jokes to try getting a chuckle out of him or to just break the tension, because of course Tim didn't know what to fucking do in a crisis back then.
Discovering that under all the anger and the pain, Alan was charming and almost disarmingly funny in a dry, sarcastic way.
Tim had really, really liked him. He'd wanted to help in any way that he could. It was the first time he'd ever wanted to genuinely help someone. It was a stupid crush, something that would never go beyond that, he was a dumb kid but he wasn't stupid. He wanted to help Alan find his wife, to get them both safe so they could get the hell away from whatever crazy shit just kept dragging them deeper and deeper into the Dark.
For a moment, though, that initial, selfish knot in his chest had returned in full force and he was embarrassed with himself. The metal beneath his fingertips was warm enough to sting his chilled skin, bringing him back. He looked away, finally, tapping his nails against the heater. Distraction.
"Heh...you really didn't know us very well, so I get it. Uncle Frank, Sarah, me...the entire situation was too weird to just let it go. Sarah, though...communication was cut off about four years ago, Summer of 2019, right after the FBC started bringing in more equipment to monitor Cauldron Lake. So...I don't know. And no one would answer my questions about her or what she was assigned to, super duper classified need-to-know security clearance information, blah blah blah..."
He gave the heater a pat with both hands, sliding it a bit closer to Alan from where he'd been sat on the floor. He had to keep talking. There was no point in dwelling.
"I was trying to give Agent Anderson one of the manuscript pages I'd found, one that mentioned her specifically, when Door pulled me here. I...didn't think it was possible, really. Every time an abduction or disappearance was recorded, at least in files I had access to, they disappeared into or around the lake. It felt strange, too, like I could feel hands on my shoulders that pulled me into the dark. And then I was here."
Tim shifted across the floor, moving to where he could sit next to the cot, leaning his back against it. "Maybe I was supposed to end up here." Nope, that mood wouldn't do. He looked up at Alan, tossing on a cheeky smirk. "I mean, someone's gotta keep an eye on you."