This story was inspired by the two following tumblr posts:

by poweroverbird: post/89509420628/marble-hornets-au-where-tim-is-trying-hard-to-move

and by imagine-marble-hornets: post/89534576275/imagine-after-entry-87-jay-just-showing-up-at-tims#notes

Thanks for the inspiration you two. :) And for a ton of Tim/Jay feels.

Also,

This is my first time writing in present-tense...ever. I'm trying really hard to make it work and be consistent, so I'm sorry if it sucks haha. Hopefully it's not too distracting.

/

/

It has been two years since Tim had said goodbye to Jessica. Two years since he had finally put it all behind him and left Alabama for good. Now, he lives in small apartment in western Texas and works at an independently owned music store. One could say that his life is rather boring, but Tim doesn't mind the dullness of his life; instead, he's rather grateful for the small amount of relief it gives him.

His mother didn't like how far away he had decided to move. Granted, they had barely talked even when he had been in Alabama, but still, when she found out she wasn't exactly thrilled. He had surprised even himself with where he had ended up. After posting Entry 87, he had gotten into his car and just drove. He drove for what seemed to be countless hours, trying to rid himself of the memories of everything that had happened, but unable to do anything but think of them.

He kept driving until he finally felt some sort of peace. Maybe not peace – that is a state Tim is sure he'll never experience again – but a sense that he had finally gone far enough that there was a chance he could leave it behind for good. The town he lives in now is as unlike Alabama as he could find in both climate and landscape. He feels slightly childish for needing such a harsh change in scenery, but in some ways it helps relieve the continuous onslaught of memories that seem to never go away.

Of course, it's impossible for him to live as though none of it had ever happened. He still has nightmares – almost every night it seems – always filled with dark woods, bloody cameras…and that thing. That thing in the suit. Tim has not seen the creature in person since he had left Alabama, but unsurprisingly it still haunts his nightmares. His nightmares never seem more clear, more real then when that thing appears in them. Tim always feels a faint sensation of frustration whenever that thing appears in his dreams, as though this is as close as the creature can get to Tim and it knows it.

When Tim's awake, most of time everything feels normal. Well, maybe "left alone and able to blend in" is more accurate than "normal." But every once in a while he gets this feeling that someone is just out of his line of sight, watching him. He knows he's just being paranoid (side effects of being stalked all his life and nearly killed multiple times, he figures) but every time the feeling hits him, he's so positive it's real.

The only thing that brings him comfort is the knowledge that he continues to receive his medicine, it still works, and it hasn't been stolen in two years. Regardless, he keeps his supply locked in a safe beneath his bed. Any extra pills are stored in a small container that he constantly keeps on him. He goes to a local doctor now, having cut off contact with his old one from Alabama.

He keeps to himself; he doesn't have one person he can truly call a friend, and on the rare occasions he is invited to social outings, he always declines. He calls his mom about once every three months, and their conversations are usually dull and short.

So when his phone rings one night, he doesn't bother to look at the number as he picks it up and answers. He assumes it's his manager, Sean, who will probably ask him to work tomorrow. It's not like Tim is going to be doing anything else.

"Hello?" Tim asks as he sits at the kitchen's counter stool. "Sean?"

For a moment, all Tim can hear is static mixed in with muffled, gurgled noises that vaguely sound like a person talking. Then the sounds clear up just enough for a timid voice to filter through the phone's speaker.

"Tim?"

Tim almost drops the phone in his shock. He clutches the edge of the counter, sitting rigidly on the edge of the stool. He has no idea what to do, how to react. Of all the possible situations he had ever imagined that could occur related to Alabama, this was not one that he had even considered to be a possibility. Because it wasn't possible.

"…Jay?" Tim's voice shakes. It couldn't be Jay – Jay was dead. Shot by Alex. And taken by that thing. It has to be someone else. For a second, he's completely at a loss of what to do. Then, he asks the only question he can think of. Because it can't possibly be who his mind is screaming it is. "Who…who is this?"

The next words are slurred. "Where am…I…" More muffled noises can be heard, and the constant overlay of static makes it almost impossible to make anything out. Loud buzzing bursts through the jumbled noise, making Tim jump. He's clutching his phone so tightly his hand is starting to cramp. But he doesn't let go, nor does he move to press the "end" button and hang up. He just sits there, frozen. The voice on the other end of the line picks up again, but only a few random words can be heard through all the distortion.

"…Tim…find Benedict…the ark…to the ark…Kralie…where am…Tim…find Tim…I don't…"

Terror grips Tim. The distortion…it sounds so similar to whenever his or Jay's cameras managed to catch that creature on tape. Tim shakes his head. No, this had to be a hallucination. Or a dream. He doesn't remember falling asleep, but isn't that how dreams are supposed to work? Maybe he had skipped a pill by accident today.

He's jolted out of his thoughts as the voice on the other end suddenly grows louder, and more frantic. "Where is it? Where is it? Camera…find camera…Tim…I need…"

It's Jay. There's no questioning it. After months of running and hiding with Jay, he knows Jay's voice better than anyone else's. He's never spent as much time together with a person as he had with Jay. Sure, he had spent a lot of time with Brian back in college, since that really was his only friend then. But he pretty much had lived with Jay for months, whether it was driving in a car, hiking through Rosswood, or hiding in a hotel for a night. Not that they had any choice, given the circumstances, but it definitely made Tim have no problems in recognizing Jay's voice.

And the terrified voice on the other line is Jay's. Even through all the static and distortion, there's no doubting it.

Tim feels like he's been punched in the stomach. His breathing is shallow and shaky, but after a few seconds, he finally manages to find words. "Jay? Jay, buddy, is this really you?" It can't be. It's not possible. His head feels like it's splitting as his mind tries to decide what to believe. No, that's him – it has to be. "Where are you? What's going on?"

But the person – Jay – ignores Tim. He continues to ramble nonsensically, snippets of his words coming through the distortion. "I need it…camera…I don't know…where…please…please don't…not again…I – I can't….not again…"

"Jay!"

"Don't forget…Tim…no…not again…not again…"

"Jay!"

The distortion worsens; the static is growing louder, and the once-dull buzzing now sounds like an angry hornets' nest. There are short cuts in the sound, but nothing long enough to be able to make out Jay's voice. The buzzing suddenly shoots up in volume, making Tim jump and yank the phone away from his ear. Then, the call ends.

At first, Tim doesn't feel anything. There's nothing he can pin an emotion on. But slowly, shock and horror creep back into his bones, and then they suddenly spread throughout his body like electricity, lighting up other emotions as they do so. Confusion, frustration, even anger maybe – Tim can't seem to sort them all out. He clenches the phone tightly in his fist, and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. He tries to convince himself that it was just a hallucination. It had to be. Because if it wasn't, and Jay's been alive this whole time…

Tim takes out his pill container from his shirt pocket and dry-swallows a single pill. Feeling slightly more in control, Tim goes into his phone's call history. The most recent call is from an "unidentified" number. Its call ended exactly 0:34 seconds ago. Tim hesitates a moment, then presses the re-dial button. The phone only rings once before cutting out. He tries again three more times, and every time the call cuts out after a single ring. Tim slides off of the stool and begins pacing the kitchen floor, repeatedly running his hand through his hair. He doesn't know what to think, what to believe.

A low chime rings in the air. Tim pauses and glances at his laptop that's sitting on the opposite end of the counter. His laptop is open to his gmail account, and according to the chime, he has a new message. Swallowing hard, Tim approaches the laptop.

It's a notification email from YouTube.

totheark sent you a video: "Elicitation"

Tim feels as though he's been dosed in icy water. He thought it was done. He had stopped the disease. He has successfully kept that monster at bay for two years now. Alex was dead. Brian was dead. Jay was dead. This couldn't be happening.

He's pressing a clenching fist to his mouth, staring at the email. He wants nothing more than to just delete the email, close his laptop, and preferably set fire to the thing. But…that was Jay on the phone. He's certain it was. And if Jay really is alive, Tim has to find him.

Tim sets his phone beside his laptop. His hand is trembling so much it's slightly difficult to even click on the email. But he does, and – holding his breath – opens the link.

It starts with images of a road, the coloring switching between normal and inverted. Next are shaky shots of Benedict Hall. Tim's chest tightens. He thinks he's prepared for what's next, but he's not. It's footage stolen from Entry 80. Heavily distorted, it's still easy enough to see what the next clips are of; Alex pointing a gun at the camera – at Jay. The image blends into the clip of Jay's bloody hand clutching his side, and words blink onto the screen. DO YOU REMEMBER. DO YOU REGRET.

Tim's breath is coming in quick, shallows gasps.

The clip of Jay's body from Entry 84 flashes next for only about half a second, followed by more flashing words: WHO'S TO BLAME.

The next image is of Tim's mask.

Tim jerks away from the laptop in horror. Fear and rage rip through him as he stares at the blinking image.

The mask is gone. Now, there are clips of a forest. Rosswood Park, Tim assumes. The camera shows a part of the forest Tim has never seen before: two badly burnt buildings, surrounded by a thin patch of trees but obviously having once been in the middle of a clearing. The buildings are abandoned, and look like they might crumble to the ground at any moment. There's a quick shot of an old bell; it's so fast that Tim almost misses it.

The next clip is of Jay.

It's not one from any previous entry; this is new footage. Jay is lying on the ground, and for a horrible moment Tim is sure he's dead. But then the camera angle changes so it's focused on Jay's facial profile. A second passes and distorting ripples run down the screen. Then, Jay's face twitches and he shifts slightly. Tim inhales a ragged breath.

He's alive.

Leaves litter the ground around Jay, but the camera angle doesn't allow Tim to see anything else beyond Jay's body; wherever is he, the lighting is too dim. Then, the image is gone and it's just blackness. Two rows of numbers, 27609183612 and 39570660245754, flash across the screen, and the video ends.