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"Thanks. And No it's okay, I'll see if my escort is willing to get breakfast on the way." he said, finding the towels in the closet and heading into the bath. "I'll leave it unlocked so you can brush your teeth if you get breakfast, Daren. just count to ten after the water turns on." and closed the door, stripping, finding his toothbrush by the sink and brushing his teeth before turning on the shower and stepping in. It was a quick shower, hair, body, face, get out, dry off.

He walked out, taking out a suit from a bag and pulling out the ironing board, flattening the dark suit as Daren decided to shower, changing into it before finding the police uniform and deciding to iron that too to save Daren time.

Tim chuckled. "I'm glad I saved you, then. You might've gone to work in a badly ironed uniform." but shook his head, realizing Daren couldn't see it. "No I'm all right. It's just someone from the station. That's what Iroh said. Someone tall with dark hair and eyes." The ironing board was folded up and placed back in the closet, Tim straightening things out and checking his briefcase to make sure he had anything, phone going off.

"Oh. Officer George Rubenacker is here to pick me up. He's tall with dark hair and eyes, right?" Tim chuckled, reading the description before closing the phone. "I'll be heading out then, I'll see you later, Daren." He waved bye before walking out and to the parking lot, finding the car and peeking in. "Officer Rubenacker?" he asked curiously. "People must tell you that you and Daren look a lot alike."

"It's nice to meet you to." and nodded, walking around the car and getting in. "Do you think we could stop maybe by a McDonalds real quick so we can get some breakfast? I'll pay." and smiled at the officer. If not there was always a little stand in the morning on the first floor selling breakfast burritos.

Tim ordered, happily paying and giving George his coffee before eating his breakfast in the car, after asking permission of course. So he hate slowly, sipping his juice before realizing the man turned in the opposite direction. "Officer Rubenacker-" he started, but the other man simply claimed it had been a wrong turn, Tim sitting there nervously.

And his stomach twisted,

And turned,

And the nerves grew to paranoia as he looked at the driver. "You have made a u-turn yet." he said softly, hoping his stomach wouldn't push his breakfast back up.

Tim looked up at the back of the man's head before looking at the back of his seat. Was someone in there? Was that the real officer? It thrashed around loudly, the accountant trying to ignore the muffled yelling. Thirty minutes passed, Tim looking at the interstate signs as silence finally settled once more in the car. "H-He's fine." Tim murmured.

Tim watched the cigarette carefully. Andrew had never done it, but hearing this man's words, Tim worried Mr. Aomine might. He tried not to flinch but subtly turned his head away from the oncoming ember, hoping to not get burned.

"H-He wasn't. I-He's not, the most, stable right now. Angry, work-a-holic." Look at him just singing like a canary, he should be ashamed. "I-It bothered him pretty badly..." Tim was the lowest of the low.

He could hear his heart in his ears, beating that same rhythm it was beating against his chest. How would Aomine know-- But the brown eyes widened hearing his words. Read his file? Tim glanced over, fear etching into his features before his blood ran cold.

Aomine knew Andrew.

Andrew said hi.

The color drained from Tim's face, hearing that the man had given Aomine permission, eyes slowly starting to tear up as he grit his teeth. "Please," he begged softly, not wanting it. But the tanned man ignored it, the handgun making Tim freeze in the car, watching him slowly walk out and around to his side. Please, please please no. He didn't want to. he wanted to crawl somewhere, run and escape, but that gun was aiming at him, and if he so much as moved away no doubt it would fire through him.

but then next came instructions in a voice so much like Andrew's, bones cold and stomach threatening to give up that McDonald's. His mouth was still sour with juice, tongue curling as the tears threatened to spill. He only gave a nod, getting out and quickly moving to the cabin as he was told, afraid to look back and see that gun pointed at him. He found himself breathing hard, trembling and sitting down beside the bed. At least it had sheets.

He looked down at his lap again in fear, trying to keep from crying before seeing the lump in his pocket. His phone. He could text Daren. All he needed was to type three letters and send it. Dad. That's all he needed to type.

Please gods above let him just send this text. Tim pulled it out and flipped it open, looking for Daren's number. Damn why did he have so--there it was. Just type. Three letters that was all.