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Tim had barely finished getting in the second letter before hearing Aomine's voice, fingers freezing as he stared at the screen. Not even this, not even this... Tears started to fall on his hands and the plastic numbers, placing it on the floor with trembling hands and sliding it over. He didn't want to look over as the officer was dropped, but when it didn't thud initially he looked over, hearing him bounce off the stairs.

Andrew's basement flooded his mind and it took his entire willpower to not scramble away, run, cry and beg, he couldn't.

The one was offered, Aomine towering over him and able to see the screen. Tim couldn't sneak anything in there. So he typed slowly. "Sorry, was called into Daniel's office to talk about the break in, but I'm here." the smoke made him cough lightly, pressing send. The smallest on whines left his lips, not wanting this to happen, wanting to take back that text and ask for help, but there was a metal gun no doubt aimed at him, and he had a feeling Aomine had one hell of a trigger finger.

So all he could do was sit there, grit his teeth, and silently cry.

Skin brushed against his cheek and he flinched away from him it, closing his eyes tight and waiting for something. Whether it was his hair being grabbed or forced into a kiss or even placing it in front of Aomine's anatomy, but nothing happened, just wiping at his cheek before it moved away.

No, this had to be a trick, something was coming. But he was told to get up, and after a moment's hesitation he opened his eyes and slowly did. But he just stood, not sure what else to do. "I, I don't really know what you want to know." he murmured, looking around, back at the man and around again, keeping this pattern until he was sure he'd memorized the room and possible weapons.

He looked at the chair, hearing the man list some of the things that Tim could say, but during the lull of silence he looked up, seeing the brown eyes drift to the bed. His legs moved quickly to sit in the chair, scooting himself in a bit before placing his hands in his lap, looking at the grained wood.

Then the phone again, he looked at it before placing it in the man's hand, making sure to keep his own fingers away from Aomine's.

"I uh, I used to play baseball." he started, trying to think, "That was my hobby, and I liked it. Um," he racked his brain a bit longer, "I wanted to be a vet as a child. I-I'd still like to be, but I enjoy my job currently, so..." his dislikes though.

Too many things came to mind, and Andrew was the root of each and every single one.

"Th-That's really it... I stopped a lot of things, after I started dating Andrew." because Andrew enforced it. He was possessive, controlling... a lot of things stopped.

But why did Daren's dad just want to talk? Was he trying to lull him into a false sense of security before forcing him on the bed? Tim had to stay cautious, he didn't want to be taken off guard.

Basketball? It was surprisingly easy to see Daren doing that, his muscles did signal that some sort of leg sport was involved, along with arms and upper chest, his trunk less so but it was enough. That made sense, basketball. He could see the man dribbling down the court, breathing and starting to sweat as he maneuvered around his opponents.

"You know what's coming, don't you?"

His eyes snapped to attention, focusing on the man in front of him as the fear spread from his sternum over his lungs, tightening. He tried not to breathe through his mouth. This man, this man taught Andrew new things. Painful things. This man killed Daren's mother. How? How did he kill Daren's mother?

"Control."

Tim was having a hard time focusing on the man's words, having to look at him again from where his eyes had strayed, but instead of the man being in front of him, he was beside him. His eyes had unconsciously followed Mori, but he stilled jumped as the finger ever so lightly tilted his head up, feeling that finger trail down his neck. He swallowed, feeling his Adams apple move against his skin, against the finger. "No sir." he murmured softly, swalloing again before feeling the fingers settle themselves on either side of his neck.

Those eyes were just as cold as Andrews. A predator's gaze. He didn't dare break it, feeling the fingers tighten ever so slightly before releasing.

"Take off your clothing, Timothy, and throw them in the fire."

He felt his lower lip tremble, eyes threatening to spill more tears but slowly and cautiously he stood, watching the man before walking to the fireplace. With a shuddered breath and shaky fingers he slid the jacket off of his shoulders and bent down to place it in the flames. When it finally caught flame he undid his tie, putting that in as well. His buttons proved difficult with his shivering, but soon the shirt and undershirt were off, belt following suit. He hesitated with his pants, remembering those large fingers on his neck and took those off, shoes and socks being tossed in beforehand.

And there he was in his boxers, hands in front of his pelvis and trembling hard. "Please don't make me do this." he whispered, watching his suit being eaten alive by the orange and yellow teeth.

Tim's back arched under the finger, tensing as he felt it trail down, teeth clenched so heard he feared they might crack under the pressure. At the threat of him being burned in them he released a sob, hooking his thumbs under the band and pulling them down, tossing them into the fire. his lower lips was trembling, tears now constant on his face as he tried to stay quiet, hands over himself to protect whatever shreds of dignity he had left. "Please. Please Mr. Aomine." he begged, wondering if the fire was the lesser of the two evils at this point.

Tim barely had time to register his words before he gave a short yell, gritting his teeth and trying to breathe through the pain. His body convulsed between trying to tense and moving away, forcing himself to grip onto the man's arm until it was pulled away. He put his hand over the wound, giving a high pitched whine before looking down on it, mouth open in fear and shock, though it shouldn't have been anything new.

His skin wasn't ready, he hadn't been mentally prepared.

Daren had one of these.

He stared at the small burn, remembering how they littered Daren's chest.

TIm closed his mouth and bit his lip, forcing himself to stop crying, nodding and moving towards the chests. True to his word, he found recording equipment and he pulled each one out carefully, looking at the bed before setting him.

He just had to close in on himself, it was nothing, it was the same act he'd given Andrew, but this time without the tears. And because he didn't love this man... maybe it would be easier.

Daren?

He forced himself to kill the small hope that bubbled in his chest, knowing Aomine would have done it anyways after the phone call.

He carefully picked it up, sliding his thumb over answer and responding numbly, holding the man's gaze. He should have probably asked for Daren to help him, or cry, but the other didn't like tears, and Andrew's previous scarring was near healed.

"Hello?"

Tim saw Aomine moved after he answered hello, so decided to remain unresponsive while hearing Daren. It was good he did, Daren barely had time to finish his sentence before the cell phone was plucked from the red-heads fingers. At the waving hand he decided to go sit on the bed, feeling the floor of the cabin underneath his feet before the mattress was under him.

Leg hair...

he ran his thumb over the fine hairs. Andrew hated it, any sort of body hair. Aomine didn't seem to mind, and hopefully that was the case.

he stopped his touching hearing the floorboards creak, eyes moving to look where the head refused to turn, Aomine's shoes coming into view before pressure on his shoulder and then pain.

He noise he gave was strangled, teeth clenched once more and eyes wide, though instead of grabbing the man's arm, Tim's fingers were curled tightly into the bed sheets. But he could only hold in so much before feeling the sharp nail dig in giving a cry as he tried to arch away, but the hand on his shoulder only followed when he tried to turn. He barely heard the phone clatter into the fire through the pain in his shoulder, but he looked up at Mori, hearing those words, he knew they were true.

He looked away, climbing onto the bed properly and hesitated to look at a camera. He was going to die here, and Daren was going to see it. He looked down and away, ashamed before settling on his stomach, palms touching the rougher wood of the headboard.

Please god, just let it be over with quickly.