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And Timothy stayed, watching the man disappear back downstairs. What was downstairs? His stomach twisted at the thought of a dungeon, or of a device relating to it. He swallowed to ease his dry throat, looking over where the sink was and wondering if he'd be allowed a drink, but heavy footsteps distracted him, and he saw Aomine rise up with another man.

George?

Tim slid over and jumped as the body was placed down, getting a closer look at the man, seeing the cuts and bruises, where the rope was chafing and cutting. His fear started to rise seeing the state of this man, wondering if Aomine would do it to him. His heart was starting to make his lungs work quick, pausing and licking his dry lips. he lifted a hand, lightly tapping George's forehead before scooting away some more, afraid the man might actually still be alive.

Good god he was still alive. Well, that was good. Alive was good. Dead would not be good.

The arm around him reminded him of a snake, a shudder running up his spine as he looked over at the man. "I, I've never... received anything like it." he admitted, indeed afraid of his present. But he gave a small noise, biting the inside of his lower lip as the bar was tweaked. "Mine?" he looked at the officer's features. "Wh-What..." what on earth could he do with this man? Anything he thought of made his stomach curl. "What am I... allowed... to do." Maybe if he could make Mori think for a few seconds, maybe. Tim couldn't do this, he didn't want to do it. He couldn't hurt a man.

If he looked close enough, it sort of looked like Andrew. His brow creased with a flash of worry, reaching out and gently touching the man's cheek with a knuckle. But with the worry and concern for the Andrew look-a-like, came a small little flicker of sick pleasure.

Andrew was hurt.

Tim smiled at the brown eyes, gently stroking the face. He didn't have such high cheekbones like Andrew, if anything this man was much more handsome than Andrew, but the pale fingers traveled down the skin of his cheek, down his jaw and neck, tracing the edges of the ropes.

And slowly he was dragged away to a box, hazel eyes glancing at the cameras before looking down into it. His body had mixed reactions, wanting to use them on the man or himself.

Hurt Andrew. something in his mind purred. And it sounded like a glorious idea.

but, but he couldn't, no. It wasn't in him to hurt someone. He couldn't.

But you could nearly take Daren.

He glanced back nervously at the man. He'd loved that bit of power, Daren's wavering voice, he could feel his body both recoiling and warming at the thought. "C-Can we gag him?" Because if the man begged him to stop, Tim wasn't sure he could go through with it.

He took the gag, realizing his fingers were trembling before looking at the others. He wanted to, he wanted to so bad. Just to hurt Andrew, make him cry like Tim had done so many times, but the idea of it was all he liked. He couldn't. There were cameras. They could send him to jail.

The shivering started spreading to other parts of his body as he held the gag tight in his fist. "I-i don't want to go to jail." he whispered, "I don't want to go to jail. He's not Andrew." And when he did see Andrew he certainly wouldn't be the dominant. And that got him angry, tears burning at his eyes so he turned to throw the gag at Aomine, but it missed by too much and hit George instead.

His eyes widened as it not only missed Aomine but hit the tied up man. He went to apologize, stopping as Aomine touched the man. "Please don't hurt him." he whispered, but at the words his stomach fell to the floor. Timmy. No, no, please no he didn't want to.

No, no he wasn't going to do that. Rape him?

No, no Aomine probably meant to abuse Tim.

Timothy could handle abuse, but if he had to hurt George he refused.

Slowly, slowly he climbed onto the bed, over the man who held similarities to Andrew. The already twisted stomach started to invert itself somehow, nausea waving over the thin body. How could he have wanted to hurt this man? He wasn't going to hurt him again though, Tim would protect them, he'd undergone days of abuse and survived, he could survive this.

He could survive. Tim could survive.

Tim gave a small smile. he couldn't do that. He didn't want George to feel Tim's body convulse and writhe with pain. But hearing Aomine Tim tensed, but that hit hadn't been for him, hearing the officer give a whine of pain. It made the accountant lose his breath before forcing himself to breathe again.

Then it slapped down hard, body jolting as he gripped the sheets on either side of George's head. There was hardly any break between the lashes, Tim having little time to re-affirm that he could take it. Pain, pain, pain, he could feel his nails digging into his palms through the fabric, breathing harsh, lungs screaming for air that Tim kept forgetting to inhale. His grunts had turned to whimpers, and then to cries and exclamations of pain. Where he hit changed the pitch, Tim nearly screaming at some hits, feeling as though the man had broken skin on the already scarred back.

But the end of it he was crying, each breath shuddered and tear filled, legs in pain. He wanted to sit, to lay down, not move the skin which had been so abused. But he was protecting George, this was his punishment. He sniveled and swallowed, hand wiping away the tears which had fallen on the man before resting his hand on the side of his head again.

Tim could do this. He could survive the real punishment. He had too.

He glared up at the man as the dark fingers went through his hair. Had Tim decided to use him earlier? He wasn't a blow up doll!

And before he could even think his arm shout out, back of his hand making contact with the tanned cheek. Once the pain reached his brain Tim stared in shock at what he'd done. He'd hit Aomine. He'd hit a dominant. His mind turned to when he'd tried to hit Andrew but failed, but with this man he succeeded. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, knowing he should feel fear, horror, apologize for what he'd done.

But if this was the power Andrew felt, this small bubble of power, he could sort of understand why he would hit Tim. But at the same time, Tim was so much weaker than Aomine.

He could think of nothing to say, just giving the other a nervous as surprised smile, heart starting to beat a new rhythm.

The frown never left his faceb but he tried to hold back the scream of pain, sweat beading anew on his head as it was twisted, joints refusing to move. Then the chain came back, but there was no monoglove and he couldn't help but grin, knowing the cameras would see it.

He wanted to feel that rush of power again. Even in his pain, shoulder threatening to pop out of socket, he managed a chuckle. "I think I've gone mad." he whispered quietly to George after his collar was latched on to the chain, arms up high causing him to groan again, panting into the man's shoulder. At least when Andrew chained him up, he chained all of him up.

The wood of the paddle caused a shudder to run up his spine, goosebumps appearing, but as George yelled in his ear his leg lifted and kicked to the side, knowing full well Aomine would not be behind him and hitting, not when he had to swing his arm.