Author's Notes
Word Count: 2363 words
TW: Smoking
The art above is drawn by creek_ink on Tumblr, an amazing friend of mine!! It's so talented AHHHHHH!!!

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The static turned into a low rumble. Toby's body bobbed around gently with a few slight bumps and jerks from the world around him. Another low rumble joined the first one; this one a slightly higher frequency and more describable as a soft purr. The gentle motions and trembles nearly lulled him back to sleep, until something rough tickled his face and prompted his eyes to open. His world slowly pieces itself together before him.

He's in Tim's truck; sprawled out across the back seats. The thick smell of cigarette smoke and Redbull pierced his nose. A pale blue light shone in through the window and casted its melancholic glow across the backs of gray seats. The sickly-looking white cat from their earlier drive was loafed beside Toby's head, purring, and running its sandpaper tongue across his blood-stained face. His nose scrunched up and he turned his face away only to keep the licks continue against his ear. With a small sigh, he decided not to fight against the sweet gesture, and lifted his hand to gently rub his fingers through her matted fur.

Gradually, Toby pulled himself into an upright position and relaxed against the seat. That's when another smell peeked through the usual Tim scent. He could smell food. Not having eaten in the past 24 hours was catching up with him. His stomach growled quietly, so he practically punched himself in the stomach to silence it. Too late. He caught a glimpse of Tim's eyes in the rear view mirror, maskless, before they returned to the road. "Rise and shine, Princess."

Toby grumbled, his voice still thick with 'sleep', and he turned his gaze towards the empty passenger seat. Tim continued. "I picked you up something to recharge. There's a truck stop coming up so.. don't get too comfortable again. We can eat there." Tim's voice sounded distant, but Toby just nodded along anyways, attention turned towards the little feline in his lap.

"Thought of any names?"

Toby's eyes shot back up towards Tim. "We're keeping her?"

"Why not?" The man shrugged. "It's not like it doesn't get lonely with just you and Brian around."

A slight smirk tugged at Toby's lips. "Sounds like you want her all for yourself..~" he teased lightly. He didn't have to see it to feel the exasperated eye roll his comment was met with.

Around fifteen minutes go by. As Tim pulled into the truck stop, Toby kept himself occupied with the little cat who absolutely adored the strap on his goggles. He giggled, feeling a sense of calm in watching her bat away at the strip of black leather that dangled over her head. Cats. What funny creatures. He looked up when the truck came to stop and peered outside. One appropriately sized brick building harboring bathrooms and a vending machine, and two extended onnings with tables beneath them.

The driver's door was opened and closed swiftly, and Toby peered up to see Tim cross in front of the truck. He hesitated before exiting as well, making sure the feline wouldn't make a run for it, and following after Tim towards the tables. The thick vapor forming around his own mouth told him just how cold it was that night. He peered into the truck bed as he passed and spotted a few unfamiliar bags. Tim must've raided the house after getting Toby back to safety... a slight smile tugged his lips.

Toby approached Tim. The man was seated on one of the tables, feet on the brick bench, with a cigarette between his lips. His cold hands struggled to click open his lighter, and Toby watched with interest. He took a seat beside him and noted the to-go box on the other side of Tim. He was surprised they hadn't stopped sooner. By the looks of it, they weren't too far from home, and Tim is rarely calm enough after missions to keep his head on behind the wheel. The cigarette was finally lit, and Tim exhaled heavily, smoke rising up in the air the same way it always did.

Toby, however, was far more fixated on Tim's face. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, and less sure of what he'd find residing there within Tim's hardened expression. Briefly, his gaze darted towards the pockets where the pack of cigarettes was concealed. "I want one." He announced suddenly. Tim's expression changed finally; to confusion.

"A cigarette, or a lighter? Because I am not giving you a lighter."

"No, a cigarette." Toby's eyes rolled slightly.

Tim's eyebrow rose skeptically. "Why?" He spoke slowly, and his eyes were trained carefully on Toby's every move. Toby peered down at his bandaged hands and curled his fingers in towards his palms. Tim followed the movement and hummed thoughtfully. Wordlessly, he took the pack from the chest pocket of his jacket and held it out to him. "Take your pick then, Rogers."

Toby definitely took longer than the average to decide on one of the many identical cigarettes offered to him. Eventually, he slid one of them out, and held it in his hand. He placed it between his lips the way he'd seen Tim do countless times. He held his hand out for the lighter, but wasn't presented with one. He was about to open his mouth to remind Tim that a light would typically be the next step, but his words were lost before they ever reached his tongue.

Tim leaned forward, his gaze trained on the end of his cigarette, and he pressed it against the tip of Toby's. Their noses were nearly touching and Toby could feel the wisp of smoke as it left the side of Tim's mouth, caressing the side of his face like a gentle hand, and Toby forgot how to breathe. Not the best timing really. With his cigarette lit, he sucked in an unsteady breath, and the smoke immediately escaped through the open gash in his cheek. The embarrassment hadn't even hit him yet when Tim's hand was against his cheek.

"Try again." He murmured. Toby's eyes were locked on Tim's, who didn't return the gaze anymore than a few glances. Toby obeyed, because what reason did he have not to, and inhaled again. This time, the smoke swerved down into his throat, filling his lungs, and Tim's hand disappeared from the side of his face. Toby exhaled instinctively, the smoke escaping the same route as before, and Tim appeared to be fascinated by it.

Finally, Tim's eyes met Toby's, and an eyebrow cocked. "What? I said I wasn't giving you a lighter." He leaned back to his original position and grasped his cigarette between two fingers, taking it from his mouth and exhaling the smoke in a small stream. That stream opened up to a river. A racing river that pounded in Toby's ears, drenched him, stole his breath, and made him feel like he was dying. It was almost comparable to the real river he had nearly drowned in just days ago.

But this time. He liked it.

He swallowed thickly and turned his head to gaze out at the road. He took the cigarette from his lips and gazed down at the slowly burning end. It glowed a gentle orange in the darkness. The truck stop was barely illuminated by a few overhead street lights, so Toby was thankful that the moon shone bright enough to see. He peered up at the sky and squinted, eyebrows furrowed. He reached for Tim's phone that sat facing down on the table beside him, and turned it on. The screen shone brightly in the dark, and Toby felt blinded before it slowly dimmed, adjusting the light around them.

1:34 AM. He shot up and blinked vigorously, as if trying to clear his vision because he surely read that wrong. "It's so late, how? We weren't out for that long..?" Tim peered over and hummed.

"I took a nap." He explained nonchalantly. "Needed to clear my head, and I doubted you'd be awake to complain anyways."

Something else caught Toby's attention as Tim spoke. On the screen, staring back at him coldly, was a date. October 9th. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, shutting the phone off, and slumping forward. He pressed his hand to his cheek and drew in a breath of smoke, slowly exhaling it. He could feel Tim's eyes burning into him. "It's almost October 13th." He murmured, swallowing thickly. Tim remained silent. Toby supposed he was awaiting further explanation.

"Lyra's birthday." Toby met blank eyes. "My sister." He clarified. He could hear the shakiness in his own voice, and watched as something clicked in Tim's eyes. He'd never mentioned his sister before. He never felt like it was necessary to, afterall, as she had been a part of his past. A past that Tim hadn't shown any interest in knowing. "She died some years ago.." he sighed heavily and brought his knees up to his chest. He sat in the fetal position, his head resting on his knees, arms wrapped around his legs for comfort.

Tim shifted beside him, and his hand was placed in the middle of his back. Toby stiffened slightly and turned his head to look at him. He gauged his behavior, read his expression, and assessed the gentleness of his touch. Tim cared. Toby felt his chest tighten and his eyebrows furrow slightly, before he was brought into a hesitant half-hug.

"I know what it feels like." Tim spoke slowly. He was in deep thought, and Toby could hear the careful methodical approach Tim took to comforting him in this situation. "I'm guessing.. that's my answer to my earlier question?" He felt a flash of confusion, then he recalled the conversation in the truck hours ago. Maybe Tim wasn't actually bullshitting him back there... Toby huffed in ironic amusement. He nodded and allowed himself to relax against Tim's form, leaning into him, and feeling Tim's hand move to his waist to bring him in closer.

It would be forever baffling how these two violent, sadistic, mind-controlled freaks could share such a tender moment.

"Hey, Tim?" Toby piped up after a few minutes of silence. He received a hum in response.

"This is gonna sound.. redundant as fuck but, are we bad people?"

Silence.

"I mean," Toby continued. "We kill people. We serve some horrific eldritch creature with unclear motives. We're constantly on the run from the whole damn government because they've figured out that we aren't just insane maniacs. And after all of that, we could... we could choose, Tim, we really could."

"Between life or death, sure." Tim sighed heavily and adjusted the way he sat, helping Toby sit up more. "If we stop, we die. We continue, it's like.. free life insurance or some shit." His distaste for the situation was evidence in his tone. Small puffs of smoke escaped his lips when he spoke. "What is this about?"

Toby let out a heavy breath and rested the side of his face against Tim's shoulder. He'd never felt so comfortable around him. "Sometimes I lay awake and wonder how Lyra would look at me if she knew about what I did. What I'm doing. My en..entire life her opinion was the only one I cared for.. she was the only- only one who cared about me, truly cared. And now our parents are gone because of me. I'm slaving away again.

It's freedom or death- nothing has changed, Tim, not for me. But may..maybe, when you think about it... the people we're killing are already terrible anyways. Right? That or they're lost causes... unable to be helped. Are we- are we still doing good, at the end of the day?" The plea in his own voice, the way it shook, and his neck cracked involuntarily, made Toby feel a sense of despair he'd never voiced before. The silence he was met with did anything but subdue his fear.

Tim looked at Toby with a look of understanding Toby had never once dreamed of seeing. Tim gazed at him as if he knew him beyond irritable interactions and bloody fights. Toby, for the first time in years, felt seen. His heart swelled and he hurried to put the cigarette back in his mouth before he made any sound to accompany this feeling. Whether it be a sigh or a whine.

Then Tim's gaze shifted away from Toby. His dark eyes fixed on the scenery just behind him, and Toby felt a rush of confusion and slight panic. Tim's expression shifted to distress, and he wrapped his hand around Toby's wrist and pulled him to his feet. Given his fetal position, Toby let out a yell as he nearly plummeted face first into the bench, only to be caught by Tim's free arm. "I can't tell if I'm seeing shit, but I think we should go."

Toby steadied himself and lifted an eyebrow. He peered over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes, peering into the darkness carefully. Along the treeline, a black abyss appeared to swallow the trunks of the oaks, and Toby felt himself internally panic. That wasn't a shadow. "Y-yeah.." he stammered the word out over a tongue that suddenly felt too big for his mouth, his cigarette falling to the concrete at his feet. The two springed towards their truck, the to-go box abandoned, and climbed in. If Toby knew one thing, it was to not doubt the weird shit that went on in the forest.

The truck started with a snarl and soon they were off down the road once again, leaving the truck stop and the abyss behind. A quiet blare of sirens whined in the distance, and Toby peered into the rear view mirror curiously, but couldn't see a single thing besides the road, and the black abyss getting smaller the further Tim drove.

"You see it too, right?" Tim murmured. Weariness caught in his throat.

"Yeah." Toby breathed.

"Good. I wasn't sure."

Toby peeked at him with a lifted brow, and Tim shot back a quick glance and his eyebrows furrowed.

"I can't find my meds."