Like a Moth to a Flame

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"I took out loans, didn't I? Took out a bunch of them and couldn't pay them back and they add interest on. It's ridiculous. I'll get it sorted, relax. You won't get bailiffs knocking at your door-- and I ain't interested in your friend Sandra, she ain't my type," he shrugged casually back in reply, gratefully accepting the wine from said woman as she, still silent, took a seat in the corner of the room. Despite what he'd said, any woman with a pulse was his type. He really wasn't all that fussy, and sure, Sandra was cute enough. A little odd, but who was he to judge?

The fact his brother wanted him to stay away from her made him more inclined to pursue her, anyway.

"Fuck off, I ain't a deadbeat. I had a good job, like... I had wives, I had my own home, I had a fucking dog. I was doing alright for myself, actually, so quit being a sanctimonious little prick. Ooh, you're a policeman? So what? Dad was a policeman, it really isn't a big deal. God, you're still stuck up your own ass, aren't you? Even after all these years."
 
"Emphasis on was," Timothy replied with a scowl before grabbing the cup of coffee from Sandra and immediately heading towards the door, the quiet squeaks of his rats being the only thing that at least cheered him up a tad. "This fucking sucks. Maybe I will leave, just so you could get in trouble for not being able to pay for this apartment. If I'm so high up my ass, then I might as well act it and kick you out."

Shoving his feet into his loafers, he grabbed his things - and his gun - he kicked a box holding his shoes so hard that the box made a dent. Shooting Sandra a glare for her to come, he waited impatiently outside the door, biting his lip all the while almost until it began to bleed.
 
Having decided to stay quiet, Sandra had absolutely no intention to utter so much as a word towards Benjamin-- until he lifted a leg to stop her passing him and deliberately made an effort to intimidate her by pressing his face in close and grinning wide. "Make sure my baby brother doesn't do something daft, love. He has a habit of being a clumsy motherfucker. Our Mom used to tell him off all the time for breaking our dinner plates."

"I-- don't fucking touch me again," snapped the woman back at him as she weakly collected her bright yellow raincoat and hurried out the door before he could say anything else to her. After the whole Alexander saga, she was understandably on edge. She was barely coping with the hugs from her best friend, so having some intimidating, muscular stranger shove himself up close to her to purposely freak her out had almost sent her over the edge.

"He's a fucking dickhead, your brother," she seethed under her breath, pushing her hair back into two bunches either side of her head. "A-An utter twat, really."
 
"I'm aware," he grunted as he hurried down the many steps to the busy city sidewalk. Staring up at the cloudy sky, he took a deep sip of the coffee as he tried to pull himself together. When his brother crippled their father, he had insisted that Ben be locked away, even if it was just a psychiatric ward. Instead, his mother was far too nice to do anything and insisted that he be let go. To honor her, and apparently his father, he was willing to maybe put up with him for a week, tops.

"He's... Look, you'll find out, I guess. He's disgusting. He... He fucking shot our dad, Sandra. How the hell he can just come into his life without a word is beyond me. If I say no, my father will just call up and say I'm being heartless - I just don't understand how he thinks this'll help? My brother did nothing but make fun of me, and I want to fucking die enough as it is. "
 
"You never mentioned that-- I suppose it's not the sort of thing you mention casually, is it? Look, he... I'm at your apartment for a while, so you don't have to deal with him alone. Hell, you don't have to deal with him at all. You're just too kind for your own good sometimes," she sighed in a mixture of a compliment and a light criticism, but before he could fully dwell on the latter, she grabbed his arm and pulled herself in to walk close beside him. She might not really like close contact right now, but contradictingly, she also hated feeling alone-- and cuddling up helped with that.

"You can take the shittest brother award. My brother-- I thought he was bad, but yours trumps him," she lightly laughed, offering her friend a grin. "But you'll always have me, so tell your brother to fuck off and go crawl under some other hole."
 
Reluctantly accepting the embrace, Tim wanted nothing more than to be alone in the moment, but he wasn't going to push Sandra away because of his own selfish desires. Instead, he offered her a feigned smile before rummaging for his subway pass. He could take his car, sure, but he was desperately relying on the fact that the subway would be loud enough to keep them from speaking. If he could, he wanted to just find a hole and crawl into it until the trial, then crawl back in once it was over.

"I'm going to the hospital tomorrow," he declared quietly, his foot tapping nervously as he walked. "I suggest you stay away from the apartment while I'm there, Sandra. I don't know what he'll do. He said he's had a wife, but... I mean, that doesn't mean much. I only want you to go there for the rats, assuming he doesn't fucking kill them all."
 
She wanted to protest him going to the hospital, simply because she selfishly didn't want to be left alone, but she wisely kept her mouth shut on that. She knew that her best friend probably needed some therapy and some good treatment, and who was she to neglect him that for her own selfish needs? Hell, she probably required some treatment too, but she wasn't exactly willing to go through with it all like Timothy was. Her family had always been dead against therapy, and while she didn't see the issues with it, she didn't really feel comfortable doing the very thing her father had often ranted against passionately.

Besides, she didn't even get a chance to protest even if she wanted to - the fact Ben had taken it upon himself to invite himself along was enough to get her to swiftly stop her ramblings.

"Seriously, do you know how fucking rude you guys are? I ain't sticking in that shitty apartment, listening to a bunch of rats scratch about their cage. No thanks. I'll tag along with you losers," the man laughed, adjusting his jacket as he caught up to the two easily, thanks to his longer strides and faster pace. "Where you off to, the police station? Cool, cool. I'm real comfortable in those places, I get dragged there a lot of the time."
 
"At least I have an apartment," Tim grumbled in response as he hurried down the steps to the subway, his expression blank all the while as he slid his card through the reader and, while tempted to do otherwise, he reluctantly slid the card once again for Ben. Moving to the proper platform, he shoved his hands into his sleeves in clear discomfort, his lips pursing.

"Why do you want to torture me like this? You don't care about me, Ben. You don't give a shit and either you have some other motive or you're doing this out of pity. Both of those are fucking annoying."
 
"I fucking told you. Dad wanted me to come and I had nothing better to do-- or do you want the honest answer? My bitch of an ex wife thinks I owe her some cash, I don't think I do, and I guess I'm hiding here until she gets the fuck over it. Besides, do I need an excuse to visit my little brother? Really? In your time of need?" He cooed sarcastically as he offered a ruffle of his hair. If he was honest, he really didn't care what his brother got himself into. Sure, if Timothy was on his deathbed, or if he'd got himself into some serious problems, then he would show up genuinely to help.

Though, he didn't think that this was that serious, so his sympathy was feigned-- not that that was a surprise. He wasn't the most sensitive, but he also wasn't that nice either.

"Chill out, will you? I need a place to crash, you need some muscle to protect you in case that psycho boyfriend of yours somehow gets out and comes looking for 'ya. Besides, this is fucking New York City, dude. I want to hang out here for a while. Maybe I'll find a model to date at one of these fancy fashion shows."
 
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"I'm a cop, I know how... how to protect myself," he replied quietly, though he didn't really believe his words. A true cop wouldn't let himself be persuaded by his boyfriend like he was only to be held captive for so long. Nonetheless, he made a mental note to keep his gun by his side whenever he went out. "I don't know if it's a good idea for you to go to the station, Ben, I also don't need you to follow me. While I think that's a crock of shit, if you did come here to protect me, you don't need to follow me to the station."

Stepping onto the terminal, he glanced back at both Sandra and Ben with a frown. If there was a higher being, it was evident that they fucking hated his guts, especially with the fact that his only really reliable source of transportation was in such a confined space. It was no surprise that Tim had grown paranoid of others since the incident, so being pressed against others with the chance of having Alexander's henchmen just suddenly slice his throat was nerve wracking enough, as was evident by him holding onto the gun on his hip the entire time.

It wasn't until they were at the station did he at least relax a tad. For someone who was relentlessly bullied, the entire station immediately seemed to feel guilty. They had let Tim get hurt as, essentially, a prank. When the youngest cop stepped in, the officer at the front desk immediately grew uneasy as she watched him approach.

"I need to talk to the chief. I'm... I'm going to take some time off," he explained quietly, his lips pulling into a frown.
 
For separate reasons, both Sandra and Ben weren't huge fans of police stations. For Sandra, the whole scene was alien to her. She'd been more or less a 'good girl' her whole life, someone who didn't even drink alcohol if she had work the next day and, if it was unavoidable, she'd have one wine and that would it. She'd never done anything wrong her whole life, so being stood in the station, despite knowing she'd done nothing wrong, was slightly nerve-wracking.

For Ben, it was just a reminder of his criminal past - even if that past was little more than a week ago, when he'd beaten his boss up over the measly salary he was paid. Being stood in the station around cops did make him self-conscious, though unlike Sandra, he knew better than to show fear or awkwardness. Instead, the tough man quietly leaned on the counter and, characteristically, he smirked and gave the officer at the front desk a flirty wink. "Hey, can we hurry this up, love? And Tim, seriously, couldn't you have just, like, fuckin' called your boss instead? I sorta don't mix well with police stations, surprise surprise."
 
"That's not my problem," he replied flatly as he trudged forward, further into the station. He wouldn't emerge for a good ten minutes, exhaling heavily. He was expecting to be made fun of, or possibly being fired, but he took a page from Alexander's handbook and spun the situation to both keep his job and take the month on paid leave. Shoving his hands in his jacket, Tim offered a wary smile to the mom both.

"Got the month off, thankfully," he whispered before taking Sandra's hand in his. "You should get a psych evaluation with me, Sandra. We need time to heal somewhere safe and... I don't really trust myself to be alone, so..."
 
"You know I'm gonna be sticking around, so I'm always here for company," began Ben with an arched brow, the fact he was overlooked so much not being something he really understood. He was blissfully naive that the fact he disabled his own father and partly helped with his parents' divorce might be a reason why his younger brother didn't want to be around him. That, and the fact he'd bullied him relentlessly when they were children. Apparently, he didn't understand Timmy's well-founded apprehensions.

"I mean, I ain't gonna go home and live with Dad, he'll just berate me and I ain't into that," he continued, quietly moving from the chair to follow after the two. "Besides, you kinda need some muscle around 'cos you decided to date a psychopath. I don't want 'ya, like, dead or anything."
 
"Why do you care?" He questioned flatly, his grip on Sandra's hands tightening. "You've never cared before so why care now? You don't need to pretend and give me some false sense of care when you're only bullshitting because you have nowhere else to go. The only reason you'd give a shit if something happens would be because you'd be out a place to sleep. I... I don't need you to pretend that you care, Ben."

Letting out a heavy sigh, the police officer dropped his friend's hand with a growing frown before stepping back into the street, his eyes scanning it warily. The simple idea that Alexander somehow escaped jail was nerve wracking and, despite his older and admittedly more rugged and stronger brother by his side, he didn't really trust him to protect him in case there was a problem - he assumed Ben would just run off without him. With his hands in his pocket, he waited for the two to follow.
 
"That's rude. When did I say I never cared? I was off my face on drugs and I was constantly pissed off back then. I didn't hate you. I mean-- I shot Dad but I didn't kill him. I aimed for his fucking legs, I could have gone for his head or something. I didn't because I couldn't. I dunno, I don't hate you, that's... not it at all," he mumbled, feeling beyond awkward having to confront such a sensitive topic when Sandra was present-- though she wisely chose not to intervene in the family issue.

"And hey, I ain't got anywhere else, but I chose to come here. I got two ex wives I could have gone to if I really needed help, but I chose you. You should be happy! We could go for a beer, and watch some football in a bar, yeah? Talking about girls isn't your thing, clearly, but you can talk about guys to me, I ain't gonna judge."
 
"I know you don't hate me, Ben. Don't pretend that you care, though, okay? In fact, I'm sure you're looking down on me because I'm stupid enough to get myself in this shitty situation, huh? You always made fun of me for being too naive and you were clearly right. I'm sure you're internally gleeful that I fucked up. You always complained about how shit your life was and how grand everyone else's was. Guess what? You finally can pin some shit on me to make yourself feel better." He replied quickly, his attempt to stay calm failing as he ran his hands through his hair and wiped his ready eyes. He had already admitted to Sandra to feeling like a shitty cop but Ben did nothing but reinforce that feeling.

"God- look, you got me crying. Congrats." He grumbled, sniffling as he wooed his face with his sleeve. "You've always liked to make me cry."
 
A small part of him was secretly glad that his brother had fucked up a little in his life. He'd always seen Timmy as the 'golden' child, the one to have the perfect life with parents who supported him, while he was left as the black sheep of the family. He wanted Timmy to fail, just to have something to rub in his face and bring him back to the level Ben saw himself on - but in no way did he want this to have happened.

He would have been happy with Timmy, say, losing his job or getting jilted at the altar. He would never have gushed about his brother having dated a serial killer who could have murdered him. That was way too far.

"You think I'm glad this happened? Dude, shut up. Besides, your life is still pretty great. You have a job, you're, like, independent and-- and I ain't in a place where I get to laugh at you, yeah? I'm in debt up to my eyeballs, I have two failed marriages, I ain't... really doing that great, so you're still better than me. You've always been fucking better than me so stop crying. I'd switch places with you if I could, easily."
 
"You're a fucking idiot sometimes, you know that, right?" He replied quietly as he waited for the cross sign, his lips pursing as he wiped his tears away. "Everything you did can be fixed, Ben. You can get out of debt if I help you and you... you chose to leave those relationships, right? How the fuck can I fix what happened? How the fuck can I fix this whole situation? My friend was hurt because I'm a fucking idiot. I can't even find a normal guy and all of this was because the guys at the station thought it was funny to use me as some bait because I'm gay. I-I... I just... " He babbled out in response, though his anger did fizzle once on the other side of the street.

"I'm sorry, I'll... help you out, okay? I'll find a job for you so you can pay off some debt," he eventually murmured, exhaling.
 
Sandra did have the urge to just shake her friend out of his idiocy. If Ben was her brother, she wouldn't let him anywhere near her after hearing what he'd done to his family and then turning up like this out of the blue. However, she wisely chose to keep out of it. It was a family matter, and she wasn't really prepared to intervene in that. Sure, she thought that Timmy had gone through a lot and didn't need more stress, but she wasn't going to start judging him for wanting to help his brother out.

"...I'm probably going to head to Texas in a week or so," she quietly murmured, glancing to her friend tiredly. "It's where my family are these days and... I feel safer down there, you know? My fashion career is basically over now Alexander's... a-anyway, I... uh... I'll text you every day, and I'll only be gone a month or two. You have your brother, so you're not alone, I guess. I wouldn't conteplate leaving if it meant leaving you alone, but... your brother's here, so..."
 
"Fair," he laughed, shaking his head. "Texas, of all places... that's a bit different than here, huh? I've always wanted to go but I sweat easily... and look, you'll get another fashion job. You were a fire assistant and you've got experience in the field, right? You'll be fine as long as you come back, okay? I don't want you abandoning me for Texas..."

The rest of the day has been somewhat awkward and quiet. Tim showed Ben around his tiny apartment though intentionally left out some minor things like his work cabinet and whatnot. Thankfully his home was equipped with a spare bedroom to at least distance himself from his brother, while letting Sandra share a room for now. It was nice to be able to snuggle up to someone, even if it was platonic, and he finally was able to get a night sleep... mostly because Ben was home and he held at least some hope that he was protected.

As he planned, Tim decided to check into a mental health facility that was completely covered by his insurance, mostly because it wasn't rare for an officer to become traumatized by a mission. It would only last a few days and he insisted Sandra at least join for an evaluation with him.
 
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