Like a Moth to a Flame

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"...Now you sound insane. Don't you think I love him, too? Not in the same way you do, but I love him just as much. He's my best friend, other than you. I want him to be safe, of course-- but I'm not going to stand back and pretend that everything's fine. People have died, people I've known. People I've worked with! They deserve some justice, a-and as... hard as it is, Alexander deserves to be put in prison," she nodded again, swallowing hard to avoid the tears threateningly stinging her eyes. It would be a far nicer world if she would agree and find some doctor for Alexander to see... but that would be depriving all the families who had lost people the chance to get some justice. Besides, with the money Alexander had, he could probably get himself out of prison in ten years or so, if he had good behaviour. Ten years, in the grand scheme of things, really wasn't a lot of time.
 
"I think you should at least talk to him first," he murmured, while biting back the urge to snap at the woman. He knew it wasn't okay to defend a murderer, but Alexander was the most caring person he had in his life, outside of his father. It was selfish, to want to be able to keep his boyfriend around while families were off, mourning their loved ones, but he also could use the defense that, why the hell did Sandra do nothing before knowing it was Alex? He bit his tongue, though, and instead offered a smile.
 
"...Fine. We'll wait here for him, how about that? I'll sit down and have a nice conversation with a murderer, that sounds fun. He's not my friend. The Alexander I know wouldn't dare do something this insane, s-so... so I want nothing more to do with him. I'll talk to him, then ring the police," she decided as she flopped to the couch, even if she didn't really understand why she was agreeing with Timothy. What on earth was there to talk about? She didn't want to know why he did it, how many people he'd hurt and so forth. She didn't even want to speak to him, let alone come face to face-- but something deep inside her obviously wanted to do just that, just so she could look him in the eye and see for herself whether this was all true, or just some huge misunderstanding. There was a part of her that clung to that hope, so they could return to normality again.
 
He joined her on the couch after snatching his phone, checking the time and hoping for some form of text. When given no sign of where the other went, he eased back against the couch and stared at the blank TV. In their silence, he offered to flick on the television to at least block out the awkward quietness.

"Look, I-I don't know, Sandra. I just hope that everything works out fine. Maybe if I talk to the police, they'll be less harsh on him? I don't know."
 
"Why would you talking to them have any effect? I love you, Tim, you're my best friend, but I don't see how you could alter something like that. It's out of your hands," she sighed, figuring that his comments came out of some desperation to spare the man he loved the full force of the law. Of course, she was oblivious her best friend had deceived her all these months, albeit with a perfectly valid reason for doing so. While he probably would have explained, the sound of Alexander entering cut Sandra off from asking too many more questions, paling automatically at the sight of her friend who, after removing his jacket, calmly scanned the two.

If he was honest, he didn't expect Timothy to have told Sandra anything. He intended to get home before Timothy woke up, but on the chance he didn't, he thought that he would have kept quiet, out of fear. Clearly, he was proven wrong, because all he had to do was look at Sandra fearfully fiddling with her hands to know that the cat was out of the bag.

Chuckling beneath his breath at the unforeseen development, he made an unsubtle move to lock the door before placing himself down on the leather armchair opposite them both. "...Are we going to sit in silence or are you going to talk? Is this going to turn into some intervention? How fun~!"
 
"Alex, I... I thought Sandra should know. She's your best friend, and so am I. You should explain to her our plan, you know? I also think she should suggest some plans, too. I want to be safe, a-and like I said, I can get the guys at the station to be cool. You just need to stop. I mean, you went two months, right? Was it because you were with me? Would... Would you have stopped if you didn't find out about me?" He questioned lightly, while glancing at the time. He then glanced at Sandra, the sudden worry of his pets setting in, oddly. He was in the room with a man who had no problem killing someone, but his rats were looming in his mind.
 
"Nobody's annoyed me in two months. Recently, Ruby has, but I suppose I won't have time to do something about that. You're bound to have me arrested before I can push her off the 24th floor," he mumbled under his breath, almost petulantly. He didn't want to look -or act- childish, but he felt patronised and misunderstood, and he didn't really know how to react to that properly. Noticing Sandra's horrified reaction at hearing for herself the sorts of things Alexander thought about, he hid back a smile and simply rested back against the armchair with an expectant grin. "Is that it? Are you going to shove some handcuffs on me now, officer~? Oh damn, you haven't got any on you, have you? No gun either, I bet... If I wanted you dead, it'd be pretty easy to kill you both, I suppose."
 
"I know you won't, though." Replied Timothy, his voice remaining stern despite his growing blush. "I don't want to arrest you, Alex. I want to just... I want to just forget that this ever happened and go enjoy a nice lunch together, but that can't be the case... what were you doing this morning?" He questioned, remembering that Sandra had been watching him since five.
 
"...Mm, you're right. I can't hurt you, you're too pretty," he shrugged lightly, grinning to himself again. Despite the horrified expressions and obvious nervousness, his grin never left his face. He had no reason to let it crumple, did he? He was rather enjoying the whole situation, as mad as it all was. If anything, it was all a way to flatter his ego.

"What did I do? Is that any of your business? We both keep secrets from one another, and you'd probably have preferred me to keep my secret a little longer. I don't think you want to know what I was up to this morning, Tim."
 
"You were the one who didn't want any secrets between us, Alex. I told you mine, and it was the only one I told. If you don't want any secrets between us, you need to tell me what you did." He reminded, all the while holding Sandra's hand in his, comforting her as best as he could. In the time he spent thinking about the situation, he used his training to try and force his fear away, if only for his friend. If Sandra wasn't there, he most likely be panicking.
 
"Stop being s-such a fucking smug bastard and... and tell us what you've done, okay? I... I can't believe you," mumbled Sandra. Despite the outburst, she was far from being together. Her hands were shaking, her bottom lip had begun to bleed from the constant nibbling, and her eyes were slightly blurred with tears. She felt pathetic that she was close to crying-- but Alexander had been her best friend for years. When everyone else ignored her and gossiped behind her back, he had stepped in and bonded with her. Now she learned he wasn't who she thought, of course it was upsetting.

Sucking his breath inbetween his teeth calmly, he strolled to the open kitchen area to make some herbal tea, while keeping his eyes on the two. "...I went for a walk. I was teasing you, really. I didn't get up to anything bad. I walked, I went to the office for awhile... then I came back. Nothing exciting."
 
"Can you really blame us for being cautious?" He grumbled bitterly, before letting out a heavy sigh and getting to his feet. Wandering to the kitchen as well, he took the other in his hands.

"This isn't a time to joke, Alex. This is a very serious thing. Not to mention, you just wandered about for hours? You could have gotten hurt."
 
"I know the city like the back of my hand, hon. I was hardly going to wander into trouble. Besides, I'm not likely to be slaughtered by the infamous murderer, am I? Not unless I decide to off myself, but I don't plan on doing that," he jokingly smiled, popping in the teabags -he had automatically moved to make Timothy a mug of tea too- and casting his boyfriend a wary glance the moment he took his hands. He hadn't anticipated to receive any notes of affection from him, so this was a pleasant surprise.

"...And you'd care if something did happen to me, would you? After everything? You don't want to pour petrol over me and set me on fire~?"
 
"Well, no shit. I don't want to go to jail, let alone die." He scoffed, while watching the tea brew. "Don't even fucking joke about that, okay? Look, could you at least see a therapist? Even if it's only once? It would mean a lot to me. Sandra, too. I don't ask for much from you, ever. Wouldn't it be better than being locked up?"
 
"How about no? I mean, don't get me wrong, love. I appreciate the worry and the care and all that, but I don't need therapy. Honestly, you make me sound like I'm off the rails, going about massacring everyone I meet," chuckled Alexander, almost incredulous with how often he needed to defend himself. He was fine, clearly! He didn't lose his temper and shoot people randomly - he didn't agree with that at all. He had his reasons, justifiable reasons he thought, and the fact he had to defend them constantly was tiring. Annoyingly tiring now.
 
"Then I don't have any other choice. I'll call the police, ask them to go light on you, you know that. You need to know that there are consequences for your actions. I lied to you about my job, and now my boyfriend is getting arrested, that's my mistake." He murmured, before moving back and tugging his phone from his pocket.
 
Before he even really realised what had happened, Alexander had leaped across from his post at the kettle and attempted to tackle the phone from his boyfriend's hands. In his defence, he didn't do it with violent force, but of course there was a desperate intent... and that meant he didn't fully realise how hard he was being with him as he attempted to grab the mobile. He was fully confident he would get off from any murder charge, but he didn't want to have to go through that; to be put under suspicion that would loom over him his whole life, regardless of the innocent verdict he anticipated. Therefore, if he had to push his boyfriend to the floor and wrestle the phone from him, he would.

He didn't think Sandra would get involved, which, given how much he had gotten wrong today, perhaps he should have anticipated. He didn't even pay her any notice until feeling her attempt to pull him away - something she was never going to do given his large frame, but it didn't stop her digging her sharp nails into his shoulders to pry him off, while screeching furiously at him all the while.

In one swift move which involved him pushing Sandra away, Alexander stopped. The moment he pushed her, he regretted it-- especially when she toppled over and hit her head on the corner of the fancy marble table he'd recently purchased. He may have tried killing her in the past, but she was the one person he had regretted trying to hurt, so the fact she was still on the floor, bleeding from the mouth and nose and barely breathing, was enough for him to consider the mobile -and Timothy- irrelevant.

"S-Shit-- get a fucking towel, Tim," he demanded, his voice full of concern as he knelt beside his longest friend and propped her head up on a pillow, unable to hide his relief at the shallow breaths. Barely there, sure, but the fact they were there counted for something.
 
"H-Holy fuck, Alex!" He screamed, while getting to his feet quickly. Bolting to the bathroom, he grabbed the first towel he could and properly wrapped her head. He knew basic medical help, it was a major part of his training, but he never helped someone in such a specific situation. So, despite Alexander's wishes, he grabbed his phone from the floor and put in the proper 911 call. Once getting in touch with the station, he was practically sobbing.

"R-Rob, holy fuck. You need to send an ambulance, we've got a major problem. Look, you can make fun of me later. Oh, don't fucking lie, you'll find some stupid fucking reason to think that a dying woman is funny!" He snapped into the phone, though after quite a bit of angry banter, he eventually got off the phone and hurried besides the other.
 
"...I need to go. I... I can't fucking stay here when the paramedics come, you know that. When it comes out I pushed her, the police will question me and then ask about the murders, and... and I can't fucking pull off some grand display of enigmatic charm when I'll be too fucking worried about my best friend dying in some hospital bed," he panicked, biting on his lip and wringing his hands together, though didn't make any attempt to move. He was frozen to the spot beside Sandra, making sure he could still hear the deep, shallow breaths. Without them, he'd be in a far worse state.
 
"So, what? You're just going to run off and leave me to watch her? What am I supposed to do?!" He snapped, while carefully taking Sandra's cheek in attempts to comfort her. That's he could do, after all.

"This is bad. This is bad. No fucking way, you're staying here or I will tell the police what you've done!"
 
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