plotted starter for @archivehe
THE BACK ENTRANCE WAS NOT PARTICULARLY HARD TO LOCATE nor slither through after he’d spent the past half hour observing. he must’ve taken a page out of danny’s book with all this sneaking around, though not followed it closely enough to bother waiting and watching as long as he should have. tim has never been one for patience, not when his anger is gnawing like teeth against his bones, twisting tighter, burning hotter. perhaps this is why elias chose not to tell him. because that all knowing ability told him he’d do something stupid like risk himself to find a man he doesn’t even like and drag him back to safety. whatever.
once inside, it became apparent rather quickly by the voices painting the nearby corridor that he needed to hide. behind several positioned waxworks is where he stayed for what felt like hours as he listened to a muffled, stifled man’s voice ( there’s his boss ) and a handful of others he did not recognize until finally they seemed to leave. in silence he waited for a while longer to ensure the targeted room remains empty before he dared to emerge from his position, fists wrapped around the wooden handle of an axe that jon might find familiar. it was just sitting tucked away in his office— fucking lunatic, but he shouldn’t be complaining now.
he curses the hinges that creak as he twists the handle and pushes open the door just a crack, enough to peer inside through a thin sliver. darkness obscures all except for the forms of several immobile waxworks. he waits and hears nothing, and so further he reveals himself, creeping into the room and shuts the door behind him with the butt of his axe. there, in the middle of the room surrounded by posed waxworks is jon, wide eyed through the dim light washed over the room. just jon. no one else.
he breathes a silent sigh of relief, standing from his crouch and approaches, dull eyed expression absent of its old smug playfulness.
“ hey there boss, ” a weary breath, gaze falling to the hands bound tightly to each arm of the chair. tempting to leave him tied up like a present to dump on elias’s desk, but escape might be a little more complex tugging around a man in a chair without even the decency to have wheels. he decides, despite his conflict, that escape is more vital and kneels down beside the left arm of the chair, sets the axe to the side, and begins to work the knot. a weak grin catches the corner of his mouth, and he lifts dark hues to meet the other’s. “ you know, the gag is a huge improvement. I really think you should keep it. ”
