Like a Moth to a Flame

"Oh, I don't know. There are psychos in every corner of the world, Timothy. I think you'd be best sticking with me because I'm many things, but I'm not a psychopath. I have feelings for you and I feel guilt-- and I had a motive. Psychopaths don't need motives, do they? See, I'm really not so bad," he grinned, reaching over for the cigar once spotting the other start to cough hard, and the last thing he wanted to do was be responsible for him coughing his lungs out. The less harm he caused Timmy, the better.

"l do want us to work. I could... really mould myself into the perfect boyfriend if you gave me a chance. No murders, no violence, just... normality. You could work for me, or stay at the police station, or start a new career entirely. I mean... you've punched me and I let you because I want this to work, so... god, how much more grovelling do you want from me?"
 
"Look, let me think about it, okay?" He replied quietly, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "I've got other things to deal with right now, anyway, Alexander. I've got my job, I've got my rats... my brother is staying with me and that's a mess..."

Letting out a needed sigh now that his lungs were resting, he looked away to stare at the window, sniffling. "This is all too much, Alex. I just want everything to be normal again. I just... I want to go home and relax, watch television. I can't do that anymore."
 
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"I'm the bad guy you want to completely disown, and yet your brother is staying with you? The one who disabled your own father? Right. Sure. Well, isn't that interesting," he tutted, tapping the ash from his cigar directly onto the floor with little care about the mess it created. He was usually polite enough to care about these things, but after the literal hell he had been through, he barely found it within himself to care about others beside himself.

"Do what you want, hm? I just wanted to see if there was any hope for us, but it's all in your hands, isn't it? You know my mobile number, you know where I live and where I work. After this little stint here, you have plenty of opportunities to come and contact me. I'll wait until Christmas time and if you haven't contacted me by then, I'll just assume we're over. That seems fair."
 
"Okay, sure," he nodded in agreement before gripping the edge of the bed tight. Squeezing his eyes shut tight briefly, he chose to wave the other off dismissively. "Look, I'll talk to Sandra and I'll get back to you in a week, okay? I'll... I'll probably just stop by, in fact. Just - I need to pretend you don't exist for a few days," he admitted before tugging nervously on his shirt.
 
A small part of Alexander genuinely disliked Timothy in that moment. The absent dismissal and the fact he was dragging him along and making him wait for an answer wasn't something he was fond of; not when he was notoriously impatient. He wanted to shake some sense into him and make him see that everything could quite easily go back to normal if he just gave the go-ahead-- but he knew that response wasn't going to solve matters. As difficult as it was to just walk away and wait patiently for Timothy to come up with a reply, it was the only mature option he had.

"...I'll get a therapist," he promised, leaning in just to offer a kiss on the cheek, deciding the brief contact was all Timmy could deal with at the moment. "A proper one, best money can buy. I'll take medication if that helps. Just... call me. It doesn't matter if you decide not to be with me, I just... I hate open-endings. I want a definitive answer; a yes or no. Promise me that at least."
 
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"I think I can handle that," he admitted with a whisper. Despite his nervous flinch at the kiss, Timothy's lip did pull into a small smile at the affection. If there was one thing he missed from their relationship, it was how he was treated by Alexander up until the 'incident'. He was loving and not afraid to be close, and Timothy soaked in just being able to lay in bed, curled up close beside the other just in silence. While it was only a glimpse of what used to be, the cop reveled in it.

"Yeah, I'll have an answer. Just... I'm glad you're doing this, for me. It's for you, too, though. You'll realize that getting help is a good idea. You don't need to take pills, though. I don't want you to change..."
 
"You don't want me to change? Isn't that exactly what you want? I'm getting mixed signals here, darling. Either you want me to remain exactly as I am, which you previously described as being 'psychotic', or I change, which you now say you don't want? I can't exactly win here, Timothy. How about I just do what I feel comfortable with? If I want to take a few pills to help, I'll do that. Either you want me to get better, or you don't," he pointed out, briefly amused by the contradiction-- until annoyance and irritation took over. He understood and genuinely believed that Timmy wanted him to get better, so why he was so against the aid of prescriptive medication hardly made sense. Without going down that route, there was every chance he'd get annoyed with someone and hurt them. Medication was something he had yet to try, and for all he knew, it could be the answer.

"I'm just going to go, you're confusing me and I don't want a migraine, babe. You enjoy your time in this... place. Try and get some sleep, you look exhausted. You've got bags under your eyes, it ruins your otherwise flawless complexion," he flirtatiously smiled, smoothing his shirt free of creases. "Call me in a month. I won't contact you. One month. Remember that."
 
"Fine." He replied flatly as he watched the other leave. It wasn't until Alexander left that he immediately broke down. He was tired and stressed and to now have the added honor of dealing with his loneliness? The two reasons he agreed to be bait was to 1. Help the city be a better place and 2. Possibly find someone for himself to fight off his loneliness.

Timothy spent a day in a half at the hospital, mostly just sitting in silence and thinking about everything. He eventually came home, though, only feeling worse as he tugged along his things.

"Hey, I'm back..." he began quietly as he dropped his things. He immediately hurried to his rats, taking each one out carefully for a scratch between their ears. "Sorry, I just... I've had a lot to do."
 
When his brother had adamantly stated that he wanted to check himself into a facility for help to deal with everything, Ben hadn't expected him to be back a mere day and a half later. He had assumed that his brother would return in a week at the very least, so he did jerk up from the couch awkwardly once Timothy entered.

"I, uh... didn't think you'd be home this early," he began, clearing a few takeaway boxes off the table. He hadn't tidied up because, simply, he hadn't expected his brother home, and Sandra had chosen to not stay with him, which he understood and preferred. Having the apartment to himself was nice, especially after everything he had recently gone through.

"...Did it go alright?" The elder of the brothers finally asked, flopping back onto the couch to resume lazily lounging out in front of the TV. "That hospital you went to, was it alright there? I tried phoning but I didn't get through, and I was going to visit, I just thought you'd be there for... longer than this."
 
"They're not as secure as I thought they were," he replied in a murmur as he cringed at the mess. Timothy wouldn't call himself a neat freak but he was far more careful than his brother, evidently. To see his home junked up so easily irked him immediately. Nonetheless, he flopped down besides his brother and frowned.

"Alexander just waltzed in without a word as if he owned the place and it just... it sucks, Ben," he sighed, his eyes brimming with tears.
 
Rather than immediate anger, Ben was hit with confusion, as evidenced by the arch of his brow in reply to his brother's admission. Ever since learning everything that his brother had been going through, he had understandably done a little research into who Alexander was, especially when news broke that he wasn't charged with murder, but let off and apologised to for the inconvenience of his arrest. The news was often wasting time investing into the ordeal because of Alexander's wealth and fame, and so were often camped outside his apartment waiting to pounce and ask him questions about whether he would take action against the unwarranted arrest and the vile things that had been posted about him that they now assumed were untrue. Their focus on him meant that news broke instantly the moment that Alexander left the country a day ago, with the main story seeming to be that he was at his breaking point because of the stress of a false arrest, and anger turned towards the police for not doing their jobs properly in the first place and putting an 'innocent' man through such pressure.

Knowing all of this, Ben was a little confused how Alexander had visited his brother and got out of the country just an hour or so later, but he quickly assumed that Alexander had little trouble - he was rich and could leave on vacation without planning it.

"...What did he say? Was he gloating and being a smug bastard about this all? He seems smug. I was researching him on the net and he looks like a right asshole. Too clean-cut and... nah. I thought you'd go for someone more... you know... imperfect. A little rough around the edges, working man. I dunno your type, obviously. I just didn't think it'd be a guy like him."
 
"Well, it seems like I managed to get a pretty imperfect person, Ben. The guy is a serial killer, how more 'imperfect' can you get?" He replied, his tired eyes rolling. "He's a manipulative scumbag. I'm on paid leave at work right now but, knowing them, I won't be hired back. All those years of training will just be useless, dad'll be disappointed, and... I dunno. Wanna know the most fucked up part of it all? I still love him. What the fuck is wrong with me?" He groaned.

As he spoke, the cop began to type at his phone to order a pizza. He was far from being in the mood to cook . Staring blankly at his phone for a moment, he eventually had to look at his contacts to see Alexander's, his name covered in hearts and stars.
 
"Good news is he's not in the country. I saw on the news he, like, left a day ago or something, I've been trying to do some research. Sandra left 'cos she didn't really like me, but that's fine. I fed your rats and they've been great, so... it's been alright. I've looked after the place. You got some cute neighbours I've been flirting with, so-- oh, they invited me for dinner tonight. I kinda played the sympathy card, you know? Said how I cried myself to sleep worrying about you, and they said they'd cook dinner if I wanted the company. I'll just go over there so you don't have to deal with me," the older brother murmured, smiling quietly to himself. He much preferred sticking in the apartment now his brother was back, but with Alexander not in the country, he didn't think it was too risky if he just went across the hall to eat some pasta with the two women there. It was hardly like he was heading out into the city for the night.

"You'll be alright, I'm just across the hall if you need me-- and you want me to go, yeah? I can't imagine you want me sticking here when you just got out and could do with some rest and stuff."
 
"Is it rude for me to want to be alone?" He asked, his lips pursing together tight. "Yeah, I just want to watch some TV and sleep for... awhile. Like, if he's out of the country, I shouldn't worry. It's just suspicious that he left so quickly, right? - Ugh. Sorry."

Letting out a sigh, his cheeks reddened in frustration before squeezing his eyes together. "Seriously, I'm sorry. Go ahead, have fun with them. I've got my gun if I need it."
 
"Dude, I'm across the hall. Literally, you don't need to worry. I have my gun on me if something does happen. Which it won't. Why? Because he isn't in the country and so you aren't going to get hurt or kidnapped or whatever else that freak's done to you. I'll be back around tonight-- or morning if things go amazingly well," he smirked, stretching his arms with a loud yawn. The fact his brother was at least talking to him now without that sense of awkwardness and anger in his tone was a major step forward in their relationship. After everything he had done, Ben wasn't expecting to be forgiven, but he did want to at least be able to form some sort of brotherly friendship with Timmy. Right now, it seemed like they were at least on the right path.

"Is it suspicious? I dunno. If I was being hounded by cameras asking me about my imprisonment, I'd totally jet off somewhere hot to escape for a week or two, wouldn't you?"
 
"He deserves to be hounded," he replied firmly, scoffing in disgust. "He... He deserves to get no rest. If there won't be any real justice, I at least want there to be some social justice. I want him to be as uncomfortable as possible. Is... that mean? I mean, he's my life incredibly uncomfortable so he should feel that way, too."

Letting out a childish huff, he grabbed the remote to change the channel to anything but sports. "To be honest, if I could have it my way, I wish I said no to helping out the force. I mean, someone else could have done all of this and none of this would have happened."
 
"Or you could be mature and just forget about him? I dunno. The old me would have happily joined in in making that prick's life hell, but that isn't the greatest thing to do. Just forget about him. He got away with it and that sucks, but what can you do? You don't have evidence and that's... kinda important in a murder investigation. I believe you, obviously, but there isn't much evidence-- you could do that thing they do on those crime shows. Wear a wire and get a confession from him, but that requires meeting up with him and I don't recommend you do that. You said you love him. I don't trust you to meet him and not, like, snog his face off," he smirked, quietly gathering his wallet and his cigarettes, those being the things he wouldn't leave behind, even if he just was across the hall.

"Get some sleep, bro. You really look like you could use it. Didn't get much sleep in that crazy house, huh?"
 
"Oh, shut up. Couldn't sleep much knowing he could just stroll in whenever he wanted," he replied with a roll of his eyes before getting to his feet to wander to the fridge. If he was going to sleep, he had to chug back quite a few bottles of beer. He hasn't gotten a wink of sleep, having refused sedatives, and this was his unhealthy alternative.

"Okay, yeah. I'll be fine, just be careful?" He insisted, though knew Ben was just fine. "I'd be pretty pissed at you if you somehow got hurt, especially since you're twice my size."
 
"...Are you really worried about me? Seriously? I'm the big brother. I do the worrying, isn't that how it works? But seriously, chill. How much trouble do you think I'm gonna get into just having dinner with those cute girls across the hall? You're paranoid and that's fine, but you don't need to worry," he promised, smiling widely even if, deep down, he was surprisingly touched by his brother's concern. After everything he'd done, he didn't expect so much as a smile from his brother, so to get genuine concern was touching.

"I'll be back at 10. I was gonna stay over there if things went well, but nah, I'll be back and crash on the couch here so you don't lose your mind."
 
"Just go," He insisted before waving the other off. "Don't want to keep those girls waiting, right? I'll lock the door but I hide a little key inside the mail slot. If it isn't there, just call me or something. I'm a light sleeper these days." He admitted before wrapping a blanket around himself tightly for comfort.

"You need to clean this place up when you get back," he murmured flatly. "I'm not going to let you trash my home, especially since I'm letting you stay here free."
 
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