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Jackie: Days like today, time seems to move at a glacial pace-- most of the commuter students are already on vacation, leaving this physics class with a little more than half of its students in attendance. The teacher looks like he's at least trying to be engaging with the class, but nothing seems to work, and Tim can barely keep his attention to the chalk board. The room mate seated next to him at their high top lab table might have something to do with that, as well-- and Tim etches onto the corner of his paper a little tick tack toe board, one X marked in the upper right corner, and shoves the paper until it nudges Mike's elbow.


Jay: If it weren't for Tim's company, Mike would probably already have put his head down and started snoring through this class. Getting stoned with Kellen during the lunch break probably didn't help much. As it is, his arms are folded over his textbook and his chin rests on them, and he watches the wacky doctor at the front of the room in a way that suggests his soul is being drained. The nudge at his right elbow is a welcome distraction, and he glances down at the paper, then grins a little, mostly with his eyes. He sits up partially to take part in the game, but before he can put his mark down, he's distracted again. This time, by the door opening, and Leech entering - an action that Mike has always thought should come with a foreboding Danny Elfman soundtrack. Ness turns to arch an eyebrow at Tim, clearly wondering who's about to have his ass kicked, while Leech paces to the front of the room to talk to the doctor in confidential tones.


Jackie: Tim shifts a little in his stool, glancing up at the instructor while he waits for Michael to make his move. When the door swings open and Leech enters, Tim is momentarily confused-- punishments don't typically come right before a vacation, but maybe someone was in deep trouble. Scoping out the room, he purses his lips in thought since no trouble makers, aside from himself and Mike, are currently in the class. Watching Leech talk to the teacher, Tim watches them expectantly before returning that glance towards Mike.


Jay: Probably Mike is going over a mental catalog of all the illegal shit he's been doing or has in their room, and it's a long list, but he can't think of anything that anyone might have found out about. So when Tim meets his gaze, he shrugs uncertainly, watching the conspiring pair of staffmembers from the corner of his eye. The uncertainty turns to blank shock when Leech turns away from the instructor to look quickly over the class, and his gaze stops on Mike's roommate. "Armstrong. Come with me." He beckons once, then heads to the door, sure of being followed. Meanwhile Mike looks again at Tim, both eyebrows raised now, mouthing 'what the fuck?' at him.


Jackie: Tim, watching the exchange with more than a little curiosity, almost expects Leech to exit the room without any other incident. However, when his eyes catch with Leech's and his name is called, he looks mildly confused as he watches him exit the room, then glances at the instructor. With his lab coat all wrinkled and improperly buttoned, he motions to Tim to follow, so Tim slides to his feet and piles up his notepad and book under one arm, looking at Michael and shrugging for his silent words. Heading out of the room, he pulls the door shut behind him and then looks for which direction to head in.


Jay: Leech only went just outside of the room, and is standing across the hall, waiting with his arms crossed. His air of glowering disappointment is by no means impaired by the fact that he's wearing a short, pleated plaid skirt. When Tim appears from the room, Leech's eyes narrow even further, and his jaw moves like he's gnawing on his tongue, and in general he just looks very noticeably angry, if somewhat subdued in it. He jerks his head to the left, towards the nearby stair well. "C'mon."


Jackie: Connecting his eyes to that skirted figure, Tim adjusts the books under his arm and tilts his head a little bit, confusion apparent. As he makes his way down the hallway, he peers over at Leech-- perhaps not as nervous as other students would be, since him and Leech have a little bit of an understanding, but that safe feeling is starting to dwindle. He can't really think of anything he'd be in trouble for, aside from guilty by association, so then his mind jumps to something about Jesse, and that makes his insides churn.


Jay: While Leech walks, he drums his fingertips against his leg, trying to think of any way he could conceivably start this conversation without fucking it up completely. He's not having much luck with that. Were this situation concerning most of the kids in the school, Leech would probably be totally capable of handing over the legal notice, with a few words of explanation, and feel very little qualm with it. But Armstrong is one of Kellen's friends - and even if Kellen collects friends like old widow ladies collect stray cats, Armstrong is, has almost always been, one of the few students here that doesn't make Leech want to claw their eyes out in frustration. The whole situation of Tim being stuck here has never made much sense, and this new turn on it makes even less; compared to the general populace of teenagers, he's a fucking saint. Sighing to himself, Leech pulls open the stairwell door, but heads up towards the dorm rooms rather than down to the basement.


Jackie: As they make it to the stairs, Tim starts for the down steps, but then Leech makes his way up and all new confusion sets in. Rethinking his own dorm room, he racks his brain trying to think what he could be reprimanded for. Switching his books from his left arm to his right, he quickens his pace to catch up to Leech, finally breaking the silence. "Am I in trouble for something?"


Jay: Reaching the appropriate floor, Leech pulls the door open with unnecessary force and continues into the hallway. When Tim speaks, Leech's shoulders curl up with tension, and he replies shortly. "No." But he sounds pissed, anyway, so maybe that's not much comfort. Reaching Tim's and Mike's dorm, Leech opens the door and waves Tim in, before following, closing the door behind him and peeking through the bathroom, just in case Kellen might be skipping class. He's not, but Leech closes the bathroom door anyway, doubting this is a conversation Tim wants anyone overhearing. And then he finally turns to look at Tim, and his mind just goes blank.


Jackie: Nope, not much comfort at all. Making his way down the hall, Tim slows his pace a little bit, getting a little uneasy simply because he can't figure out what the hell warranted dragging him out of class. Upon entering his room, he glances around a bit, almost expecting police officers to be searching the room for drugs, but no one is there and that again isn't much comfort for him. Placing his books on top of his desk, he rubs at the back of his neck anxiously, kind of looking at Leech but kind of not. "...changing dorm rooms, again?"


Jay: Lifting a hand, Leech starts chewing absently on his thumb, something like a nervous gesture. When Tim speaks again, Leech recognizes and forcibly stops his own fidgetting, shaking his head absently at the question. Then he steels himself, and just dives into it. "We got a legal notice today, from the court in Berkeley. About you. Or, ahh...it's..." He trails off, hopelessly, in a way that shows Kellen is rubbing off on him. Looking away from Tim (not that he was meeting the kid's eyes), Leech instead bends at the waist to unearth, inexplicably, a knife from a small pocket inside his knee-high Docs. But then there's a piece of paper folded around the knife - apparently this was the most convenient place to carry something - and he unfolds it, scanning the totally nonsensical legal words and seizing on some of them. "'s a notice of reling...relinquish, ment? Relinquishment." He looks back at Tim without lifting his head, looking uncharacteristically wary. Hopefully, Tim has some idea of what the hell this is all about now, but Leech doesn't recall him having many touching phone calls with his parents back home.


Jackie: Finding a wall to lean against, Tim crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to stop his own anxious scratching, but it doesn't last long; as soon as Leech shakes his head, Tim's back to rubbing one hand harshly against his neck. He listens carefully for his words, and then seems to perk up the slightest bit, kicking off of the wall and starting towards Leech, one hand out as if he wants the letter that he unearthed from his boot. "Notice from the courts? Is my arrest and everything all cleared? I finished up my community service hours over the summer."


Jay: Any steam Leech had built up for breaking this news (admittedly, not much) is broken by Tim's response, and he looks bewildered for a moment. "No, that's...that's all settled, I think. It's not that." He passes the paper off to Tim willingly, though he doesn't have much hope of reading it making things clear. Leech himself had to discuss the thing with Jefe for about an hour before he fully understood. "It's relinquishment of rights." He knows that's not any clearer, but can't quite force himself, for a moment, to continue. Then he does, in a blank, abstracted tone, looking towards the window. "Parental rights."


Jackie: Once that letter is in his grasp, Tim waves it a bit to unravel its folds, looking at Leech with even more confusion, but a bit of relief, too-- at least they didn't lose his logged hours and he'd have to start all over again. Walking over towards his bed, he doesn't sit down quite yet, but starts scanning his eyes over the paper. He's still confused, but Leech's voice breaks into his mind and he looks up for that, the gears finally starting to turn. "Rights?" A quick glance down to the letter, he sees in bold font the words 'ward of the state' and he instantly looks back up at Leech, only to find him looking out the window. Then comes those other two words, and that starts to seep into his mind, his voice still all confused and a little hopeless. "...Me?"


Jay: Leech nods for that question, emphatically, but keeps his gaze on the window. "They petitioned for termination of parental rights. I guess, from what the headmaster said, it's rarely granted, but in yer case - being that yer already in an institution more or less like foster care, and yer criminal record - the state didn't contest it." This is all said in that same automatic voice, lacking in expression, although the way Leech's fingertips are again dancing restlessly against the opposite arm, where they're crossed over his chest, might give away a little that he's not so complacent as he seems.


Jackie: Watching that nod, Tim can only shake his head-- partially in disbelief, but mostly because he doesn't want to believe it. Looking back down at the papers, he continues to scan over the content, the words Leech is saying appearing before his eyes. Without much movement required, Tim slumps down onto the edge of his bed, still glued to the letter, then looks over at Leech with eyes that show way more concern than a kid his age should. "So...I'm. They...?" He can't even really talk, looking once again at the letter before dropping it in favor of lowering his head and harshly rubbing at his scalp and neck.


Jay: "Yeh, they..." Leech makes the mistake of cutting his gaze towards Tim, and all his forced composure disappears, and he growls quietly. "Dammit." Then again, more forcefully: "Goddammit." It might be worth noting that Leech rarely blasphemes, though not from any notion of piety: he just rarely uses the word 'God' at all. Pushing himself away from the wall he's been leaning against, he paces towards Tim on the bed, and though his hands twitch some where they're still folded, he doubts that any sort of sympathetic touch would do much good for Tim and doesn't bother. "They arranged shit so yer technically a ward of the state, now. The state of Massachusetts, I mean; they transferred yer case after the hearing in Berkeley was over. 's the reason the school got the notice, instead'a you."


Jackie: Keeping his head lowered still, Tim doesn't allow for the welling moisture in his eyes to fall as tears, but he does keep rubbing at his scalp, the tips of his nails raking against the skin. In hearing Leech curse, he winces a little bit to himself and tries to bite the bullet, lifting up a bit and wiping at his face as if that'll wipe away the past three years. Snatching up that letter from the floor, he swallows thickly, still looking like pieces of him are breaking off every other second. With an attempt for strength, or at the very least neutrality, he starts to speak, but his words break and he sighs again, head dropping once more. "I don't even know what that means."


Jay: Even if Leech weren't somewhat fond of Tim, he'd have trouble looking at him, the way he looks when he raises his head. But he forces himself to, meeting the kid's eyes with his own narrowed. "Well. Practically, it doesn' mean much at all. Yer already here, so there's no reason fer them to try to find someone to foster you, er put you in an-- an orphanage." That last word comes very reluctantly, and he doesn't bother to go into the technical side of it, because by now Tim's surely realized that he's become an orphan, that he no longer has an actual family.


Jackie: Sure, he hasn't seen his family since he left California, and hasn't heard from them since about that same time, but he always had a little hope somewhere in the back of his mind that it would all blow over. That maybe he'd get back to California to open arms. But that's all clearly squashed, and in horrible fashion. For Leech's words, Tim allows for them to float around until that last one sinks in, and he breaks for it: shoving himself off the bed, he gets to his feet only to reach for the nightstand lamp, which he flings towards the wall with one hand before punching that same wall with a noise that sounds like he's been gutted. The plaster of the wall cracks and gives as Tim's hand goes partially through it, and when he pulls it out, blood is starting to trickle towards the surface of his cuts.


Jay: Leech would be lying if he said he didn't expect something like that to happen. He'd do the same if he found himself suddenly an orphan; oh, wait, he DID do the same upon being orphaned, if a bit more belatedly. Leech doesn't bother to chastise Tim for his show of violence, merely twitches away from the lamp explosion. When he sees Tim's hand go through the wall, he rethinks his passivity; though that particular wall isn't one of the originals, and therefore not made of stone, it's still much more fully and solidly constructed than studs-and-plywood, and breaking through it definitely took some force. "Armstrong." Leech flinches as the name comes out; it can't but emphasize Tim's terrible situation, right now, so Leech revises as he moves behind him: "Timothy, stop."


Jackie: Keeping near that wall, Tim raises both hands to it, curling his fingers into fists as he leans his forehead against the plaster. Every muscle in his body has tensed up and he pounds one hand against the wall, eyes closing as he feels the warmth of tears start to well there. Taking a breath, he exhales heavily but doesn't respond much to Leech's words aside from refraining from punching anything again. Instead, he just starts to break more, shoulders slumping as he tries to ward off his crying.


Jay: Leech just watches, his eyes narrowed, but in concern rather than his usual displeasure. To hell with dignity: Leech really wants to creep up behind the kid and wrap his arms around him. However, that gesture wouldn't be welcome, he thinks, so instead he drops his gaze to the floor, staring at the heels of Tim's shoes until the loudspeaker tolls the bell for the end of class and draws him back to reality. "I'm sorry. I'll leave ya alone, but if you need somethin..." And he trails off again, because what could he really offer to Tim to help this?


Jackie: He lets a few, subdued sobs escape before he tries to swallow that all down, taking a couple of deep breaths to try to calm himself down. It works, somewhat, enough that Tim can pull himself away from the damaged wall a few centimeters, and register the pain now swelling in his left hand. If the bell rings, he doesn't acknowledge it-- but he does hear those words and he quickly spins around, his watery eyes looking at Leech in sheer desperation. "Get me out of here. I don't want them to see me."


Jay: On his way to the door, Leech stops and looks over his shoulder, probably about to ask who Tim means by 'them' - assuming it's his roommate, and maybe even Kellen, wouldn't he be more comfortable in the presence of his friends? - but the look on the kid's face stops the question, and Leech merely nods once. He takes a step towards the door, still looking, and once he's sure of Tim following, he heads out into the hallway. Luckily, it's mostly empty, since there's still one more class period, so there's no impedance on the way down the stairs.


Jackie: As soon as he sees Leech nod, Tim is up and away from that wall, grabbing an old t-shirt to wrap around his bloodied hand because he doesn't need to leave even more of a mess for Mike to get back to. He momentarily considers grabbing his guitar, but it reminds him too much of home, so he snatches up that letter and then quickens up to follow after Leech. Leaning his head down into his own shoulder, he wipes his face dry on the sleeve of his shirt and speaks into it. "Even just a spare room. I don't wanna be 'round them right now."


Jay: Leech nods again for that, walking at a steady pace, but not so fast that Tim can't keep up. "I understand." From the bleakness of his tone, it may be clear that he does understand, even empathizes. Completely bypassing the first floor where most classes are held, Leech continues down to the door to the basement, pushing the heavy door open to move into the chillier hallway underground. Only when he gets partway down the hall does he falter; he had been moving by routine, but he doesn't want to just leave Tim in one of the isolation rooms. After a momentary pause, he continues on to the door to his own rooms. It isn't locked, and when Leech opens it, he's glad to see that Kellen isn't here - but of course, Kellen is probably on the way to the guitar class that Leech isn't there for, right now.


Jackie: Following Leech down into the basement, Tim is fairly familiar with the path (his first year not being his most well behaved), and doesn't even try to argue against an isolation room because he'll take anything in solitude, right now. Stuffing that letter into his back pocket, mostly to keep any other eyes from reading it, he follows Leech into the unlocked room, picking his head up a little bit to inspect the surroundings he hasn't yet been in before. He sniffles a little as he stays in the doorway, thinking that Leech was only making a pit stop, and then he wipes at his eyes again.


Jay: Leech moves into the main room, which is very sparsely decorated but clearly a place where someone lives, not just another anonymous isolation room, but he freezes after a few steps when he realizes Tim is no longer folllowing. But then, this probably isn't the best place to put him, either - and it's very presumptuous to think that Tim wants Leech's company. So Leech turns around to look at him, face blank as he gropes for a better idea, and he waves a hand to the nearby leather couch. "Sit down. I jus' need a second." So saying, he moves to the desk and takes up his phone to dial the headmaster's extension, and let him know that Leech is canceling his final class for the day.


Jackie: Still staying near that entryway, Tim moves the hand that was grasping the letter to the back of his neck. It's not rubbing harshly against the skin like earlier, but it still shows his state of being-- a little anxious, horribly confused, and not comfortable in the slightest. Peering around the room, he starts to take in his surroundings (not that there's much to look at), and eventually steps into the room more after Leech's voice breaks the silence once again. Closing the door quietly, he cautiously steps forward and perches on the edge of the couch, only to then rest his elbows on his knees to hunch over and rub at his scalp while Leech goes to the phone.


Jay: Finishing that call - after having to remind Jefe to send someone to let his students know about the class, because of course the headmaster didn't think of that himself - he places the phone back in its cradle, and turns a little to the side to look at Tim in thought. He decides to take the easiest action first, and goes through to the bathroom, retrieving a few first-aid items, then returning to join Tim on the couch. Not bothering to ask permission, he just snatches Tim's left arm and unwinds the bloody t-shirt from it before opening the bottle of peroxide, using a washcloth to apply it to the wound. Focused on what he's doing, he speaks in a would-be casual tone. "Where do you wanna be, if not around them?"


Jackie: Thankfully, that shirt did a great job in containing his wound; there's no blood dripping down along his fingers, but the pain is starting to set in. Everything still seems a little blurry for him, like he can barely remember what happened fifteen minutes ago, and before he can register Leech speaking on the phone, he's suddenly seated next to him and yanking at his hand. Shifting a little bit and lifting up his upper half, he watches as Leech starts to unwrap that t-shirt from his hands, and then winces when he finally parts it from his skin-- the blood having already dried up a little and creating a glue for the fabric to hold on to. Shaking his head, he closes his eyes and covers his face with his free hand. "You don't have to do this."


Jay: Not bothering to respond to that dismissal, Leech only repeats himself while continuing his nursing. "Where do you wanna be?" He does look over at Tim, this time, briefly scanning his form, maybe looking for any further signs of shock besides the slight tremor he can feel in the boy's hand. He does look fairly distant and unresponsive; Leech wonders if he even heard the question the first time. So to draw him back to reality and make him pay attention, when Leech sets the washcloth aside he brushes a thumb over those battered knuckles, pressing down just enough to make it sting, but not enough to increase the lasting pain or to make it start bleeding more.


Jackie: For that Lint winces, tries to withdraw his hand from Leech's grasp, and probably reacts the way in which Leech was hoping for. Lowering his other from his face, he moves it to his own thigh, grasping at it to an almost painful point because he just can't figure out what the fuck to do to feel any different than what he's currently feeling. Connecting with Leech's eyes (his own still watery, but not overloaded with tears), he shakes his head a little bit, at least having some sort of honesty as he shrugs a shoulder the tiniest amount. "I need out of here. I need out of this place."


Jay: Leech's own shoulders relax when Tim meets his eyes, and even further when he speaks; he is probably concerned that Tim will respond to all this by completely disengaging from his surroundings, and does not want that to happen. Because it would distress Kellen, of course. For the answer itself, Leech nods thoughtfully. He picks up a tube of antibiotic ointment, smoothing some across Tim's knuckles - more careful this time - and finishes by wrapping them with gauze, secured by medical tape. Because Leech naturally has lots of medical equipment around to clean up his victims. "Change that dressing fer a couple'a days, and it should heal fine in a week. Won't fuck up yer playing any." Just tossing the items carelessly onto the low coffee table, Leech stands up and crosses to the door, snatching his car keys off the hook on the wall, and tosses them at Tim with no explanation. Afterwards he grabs a leather jacket which is also hung near the door, though neglects to put it on yet, and opens the door, then looks at Tim expectantly.


Jackie: Watching Leech mend to his self inflicted wound, Tim makes sure to keep that hand immobile, his knuckles already swollen enough that he probably won't want to pluck at his guitar for a day or two. He can only nod for Leech's instructions, bringing that hand back towards his body and flexing the fingers out a bit as if to test their restraint. Sneering some for the pain, he then lowers that hand and watches Leech crossing the room, belatedly grabbing the keys as they land against his chest and drop to his lap. With his non injured hand, he grabs the keys and looks up at Leech, the way he's looking at him expectantly, and then gets to his feet to follow him out.


Jay: Glad not to have to explain, Leech leads the way into the hallway, but goes in the opposite direction of the staircase that would take them back up to the school. The stone hallway is long and narrow, and seems to delve deeper into the ground as they traverse it, but eventually Leech takes a turning that leads to another set of stairs. When he opens the door at the top, it reveals the afternoon sun and the parking lot. He continues, weaving through a few of the staff cars before coming to his own, a late seventies corvette that is (unsurprisingly) black. He walks around to the passenger side and waits for Tim to unlock his door.


Jackie: Lint makes his way down the hallway, his shoulders still hunched into themselves as he follows after Leech wordlessly. As they emerge into the daylight, Tim does a quick scan of their surroundings (perhaps this entrance into the school will come in handy later) before catching back up to Leech and his car. Stopping before he really approaches the car, he extends the hand that is holding the keys and offers them back to Leech, squinting in the sunlight. "You gotta drive."


Jay: Leech stops, tilting his head and looking cock-eyed at Tim, though he does take the keys and unlocks the car. "Why?" He sounds like he might be thinking about taking offense, on behalf of his car. Situating himself, he buckles his seatbelt and starts the car, waiting until Tim is settled to back out. The gate to the parking lot requires a ridiculous ten-digit code, which Leech punches in, then he waits for the huge gate to roll itself back.


Jackie: Grateful that Leech takes the keys, he rounds the car until he's in the passenger seat, and wrinkles his nose for having to come up with an answer that won't make him cry. "I don't know how to.


Jackie: ...


Jackie: " Which is pretty pathetic for any soon-to-be seventeen year old, and Tim can only slink down into his seat and reach one hand up to unclasp the top buttons of his shirt.


Jay: "...oh." Leech momentarily considers teaching Tim to drive, but thinks better of it - in Tim's current mood, he wouldn't be focusing, and Leech doesn't want to risk the car. So he shrugs, reaches over to turn up the radio - currently playing Global A Go-Go by the Mescaleros - and drives on, the familiar route back to Boston proper, though he does take a more circuitous and longer path than usual. Driving in Boston on a Friday afternoon isn't so much driving as it is sitting in a car being frustrated, so he'd like to have a destination before he reaches the city. His right hand is resting on the gearshift, and he drums his fingers absently as he thinks, distantly enjoying the tiny sparks of pain from the newly tattooed K-I-L-L on each knuckle as they move.


Jackie: Tim inwardly acknowledges the buzz kill he just created, but he doesn't do much to prevent it from happening-- it's the truth, and he may as well just dwell in the shittyness of it all for the time being. Getting more comfortable in his seat, he wedges himself into the corner, eyes focused on the passing scenery before winding around the car, and then on those knuckles. He watches them move about, traces the tattoo lines on them, and then grazes his eyes up Leech's arms to the ink there. Gnawing on the inside of his cheek for a moment, he then sits more upright, speaking up in a voice louder than he has since they were both in his dorm, but still achingly hopeful, like if Leech could help him with this, things would be infinitely better. "...Can you help me get a tattoo?"


Jay: It's been nearly twenty solid minutes of silence, so Leech is quite surprised when Tim speaks up, having been involved in his own mental speculations and trying to figure out what might help. Tattoos aren't one he'd thought of, strangely, but it makes good sense (to someone like Leech). He glances from the corner of his eyes at Tim, one of those eyes narrowing. "As long as ya don' expect me to draw it...? That could prolly be managed." There is a hint of relief audible in his voice, barely, but it's enough.


Jackie: Keeping his eyes on Leech's tattoos, Tim traces their lines and patterns silently, and while Leech probably wasn't trying to be funny, his response makes Lint snort out the faintest of amusement. Shaking his head a little bit and then turning more onto his side, nearly curling up in his seat, Tim blinks up at Leech's face. "Can we go now? Right now?"


Jay: Flicking his eyes briefly back in Tim's direction, Leech squelches the sudden impulse he feels to reach over and pet the kid's head, though his fingers do dance over the stickshift again. "Yeh. Be there in about ten minutes." Relieved also to have a destination, Leech doesn't take any more scenic detours but heads straight into town, expertly avoiding the more packed streets and reaching the small shop in almost ten minutes exactly. He parks, pushes his door open, and rolls out of the car, waiting for Tim to join him before continuing into the shop.


Jay: Though the distinctive sound of a tattoo machine comes from the back, the shop is pretty barren, it being too early for the nightly walk-ins. There's a pretty girl, pierced and tattooed and noticeably pregnant, manning the counter at the front, who puts down her novel when the door opens with a professional smile. It alters to real warmth when she spots Leech, and she waves him to the doorway to the side, leading farther into the shop, wordlessly. Leech nods at her in return, friendly but not so effusive, and heads through that doorway. The little hallway that winds beyond it opens to small work areas on either side, and Leech leads the way to the very last one. It's occupied by just one guy, sitting in the tattoo chair but doodling on a notepad. Like the girl up front, he glances up when they enter with a grin, but his grows much more in wattage on seeing the parasite. He unfolds himself from the chair; he's at least a head taller than Leech and built bigger, if not built too large, but the embrace he bestows on Leech fairly engulfs the much smaller man.


Jackie: Thankful that Leech isn't asking too many questions, and really is making this as easy as possible to happen, Tim sighs out a quiet 'thanks' before turning his focus back out the window, watching as the scenery changes to that of the city-- something he is yet to experience. He makes no attempt to hide his wonder, instead he sits up a bit more and allows for his eyes to go wide as he looks up at the passing buildings. It seems to excite him, or at the very least distract him, and he scoots up even more to fold his arms on top of the window and rest his chin on them, the fresh air blowing on his face. When Leech parks the car, Lint unfolds himself from his position and crawls out of the car, his injured hand staying tucked close to his tummy as strides behind the older man. As he enters the tattoo parlor, his eyes relax a bit-- not having to squint in the sun and all, and he suddenly feels half his age in his school uniform and still young face. Standing back as Leech greets the other guy, Tim goes back to scratching at his neck, gnawing on the side of his lip because he's just a tad nervous.


Jay: Leech doesn't seem entirely thrilled to be picked up and hugged, but submits to it gracefully, even when the red-headed tattoo artist ruffles Leech's own pink hair. "Leech! We weren't expecting to see ya again so soon." He finally puts Leech down, and - wonder of wonders - Leech is actually smiling, smiling enough that anyone can see it, even if he is keeping it pretty contained. The smile fades a second later when the artist continues, though: "Ruckus ain't here; I haven't seen him in a few weeks." Leech shakes his head quickly and waves that conversation away. "'s arrite, we came to see you." Stepping aside, he motions to the boy behind him. "This's Timothy. Timothy, Duster."


Jay: And Duster, despite his somewhat imposing stature, gives Tim a friendly once-over with a smile before extending an inked hand. "Nice to meet ya, Timothy." He goes with the full name, since that's what he was given, and while shaking the kid's hand, gives Leech a look. "More strays, huh? Like father, like son, I guess." There's some innuendo in that comment that Leech chooses to ignore with dignity, but he shakes his head. "Jus' a student. Was hoping you might be able to set him up." Duster nods agreeably and focuses on Tim. "Any idea what you were wanting?"


Jackie: Keeping his distance as he observes the other two men interact, Tim shifts a little bit on his feet, eventually allowing for his eyes to wander around the room until he hears that introduction being made. Hardly anyone ever calls him by his full name, but he doesn't correct Leech; instead, he takes a few short steps towards Duster and offers out his hand to shake, perhaps a little timid because this is an entirely different world for him. "Nice to meet you, too." Even his voice sounds years younger than how it did earlier, and Tim probably is mentally kicking himself for it. Duster's comment is a little confusing and Tim arches an eyebrow at Leech for it, but it mostly goes unnoticed because Duster's focusing his attention back on him. "Umm, yeah. Just a couple of words. Nothing like..." he waves over to Leech's tattoos, which are finely done and much more intricate than what Tim is looking for.


Jay: Duster grins for Tim's answer, just such a forcefully friendly person that it's bound to put anyone at ease. "Yeah, well, you'll get there." Meaning, presumably, Leech's (and Duster's own) excessively tattooed state. He waves to the chair he was previously occupying. "Have a seat, and we'll see what we can come up with." He goes to retrieve a rolling stool from near the counter, bringing it to the chair and settling onto it, retrieving his sketchpad. "Hey, Leech, I almost forgot: Maggie's got somethin for your brother, you should go see her." Leech nods once, interrupted in looking around the walls at the photos there, and gives Duster a swift, warning sort of glance that communicates easily from their years of friendship. "Arrite. Jus' hope she doesn't pop while I'm talkin to her." Duster snorts amusement, and Leech heads back to the front of the store, leaving Tim alone with the artist who again focuses his dark green eyes on the kid, settling the sketchpad on his lap much like a doctor with a clipboard. "So. What words, and where?"


Jackie: Tim forces himself to smile for those words, maybe glancing over at Leech because he isn't sure what else to draw his focus on. Oh, but then Leech is leaving, and Tim gets a little nervous as he climbs onto the chair Duster motioned to. Watching that retreating back, he eventually turns back to face Duster, shifting to get more comfortable. "May I...?" and in that he reaches for Duster's pencil and pad, and in one attempt sketches out the "Left Alone" script, complete with the anarchy A in it. He peers at it for a moment before looking up to gauge Duster's reaction, since chances are this guy has seen his fair share of bad tattooo. When he takes back the sketchpad, Tim then stretches his arms out a little to inspect them, because he hadn't quite gotten so far as to determine where he wanted to get tattoo. He hums a little bit and then blinks down at his forearm, goes to unbutton the cuff of his sleeve and fold the material up enough to expose the outer side of his arm. Running a finger along the skin, he taps there a few times while looking at Duster. "And here. I think."


Jay: Duster takes the sketchpad back and probably offers some of his own suggestions for the look of the thing, though not arguing with Tim's design or placement at all, and eventually gets down to drawing it out on the kid's arm with sharpie and getting Tim's approval before actually getting down to the inking. Meanwhile, Leech chats a while with Duster's baby momma, only returning when the session is nearly finished. He probably feels somewhat uncomfortable, with Tim being thrust into his civilian life in this way, and just wanders the room quietly looking at photos, maybe lingering on a large one of a dude's back, covered with a gigantic, beautifully rendered and colored butterfly which has a switchblade for a body. He only moves away when Duster sits back and announces he's done. Leech looks over the tattoo but doesn't offer an opinion, other than a slight tension growing at the corners of his eyes and his jaw flexing, which Duster doesn't notice. "Well, what do you think, Tim?" Obviously, Duster's become more informal during their brief session, and he sounds like he really cares what Tim thinks, and really wants him to like it, like he might be genuinely upset if the kid isn't pleased with the work.


Jackie: The tattooing itself doesn't hurt as much as Tim expects it to, but he still gnaws on his lip and furrows his brow when Duster gets to work. Thankfully, it doesn't take too long, and the pain the needle inflicts is enough of a distraction for Lint that he doesn't even notice Leech has reentered the room until he's near their work station. Peering down at his arm, he lifts it up a bit and turns it slightly to see the tattoo better, and the realization that its permanent settles some unease Tim's felt in his stomach since receiving the letter. Sighing quietly, he looks up at Duster with a fraction of a smile, but his eyes show his true appreciation. "Perfect." Another glance down to it, and the still liquidy black ink shines in the light. "Thanks."


Jay: Duster just sort of glows with satisfaction, smiling back at Tim. "Gratitude, that's a novelty 'round here." He gives Leech a bit of a pointed look, to which Leech rolls his eyes. "Thanks, Dust. What do I owe you?" Duster shrugs, waves a dismissive hand. "Just your first-born son, which means I'll never be paid. You takin' off right away?" The question has a more serious tone to it, and Leech isn't surprised, nor does he miss the half-glance of concern that Duster shiftily throws Tim's way. Leave it to this guy to become attached and concerned on the basis of a fifteen-minute meeting. "Yeh, gotta get back before they start thinkin' I'm a kidnapper." Duster nods agreeably as he stands, but still has that more serious, thoughtful look in his eyes, one Leech knows all too well. "Arrite. Take care, okay? It was great to meet ya, Tim. Come back by anytime."


Jackie: Unable to take his eyes away from the tattoo, Tim (not so gracefully) gets out of that chair, twisting his inked arm this way and that to view it from all angles. When Leech and Duster discuss the payment, Tim nearly interrupts to offer what little money he has, but that's all quickly dismissed. He does offer up another small, genuine smile, one that he directs to Duster and then grazes past Leech. "Thanks, again. I really appreciate it." Heading out towards the door that they entered in, Tim makes his way over to the car, waiting patiently for Leech to emerge and unlock the doors.


Jay: Leech follows Tim after a little more conversation, waving to Maggie on his way out the door. He unlocks the car again, dropping into his own seat and immediately retrieving his pack of smokes from the dash to light one, then offers it to Tim while he starts the vehicle. He doesn't know what to say to Tim about the tattoo; the work is good, of course, but the words make him somewhat uncomfortable. Even more uncomfortable is the sharp realization that he has no room to criticize Tim for it. So he just avoids that topic and instead asks mildly, apparently falling back to his typically blank work attitude. "Ya hungry at all? Could get somethin before heading back to school."


Jackie: Slipping down into the car, Tim straps on his seatbelt as Leech reaches for those cigarettes. He takes the lit one with no qualm, even goes so far as to take a hit off ot it before offering it back to Leech once they're actually moving. The thought of food, especially food outside of the school, entices him, but he shrugs a shoulder, not wanting to waste Leech's time. Especially since he seems a little on edge. "It's up to you."


Jay: Leech, having already lit a cigarette of his own after passing that one off, waves away the one Tim offers. Backing out of the parking lot and onto the one-way street, Leech heads further towards the center of town, having already decided to find food unless Tim absolutely dismisses the notion. Since he doesn't, Leech continues on his course. "Ya got any preferrence? There's a pretty good Mexican place not far from here, but if that's not yer thing we can find somewhere else." On edge is a good way to describe Leech's mood; he's uncertain how to treat Tim, being outside of school and without any other company as a buffer, and extremely aware of the bad news he imparted, uncomfortable with the realization that he probably wouldn't know how to offer comfort if it were wanted, and even more uncomfortable knowing that he badly wants to offer something.


Jackie: Keeping hold of that cigarette, Tim makes a little noise of thanks for it, putting the filter to his lips and inhaling deeply once again. Shrugging a shoulder noncommitally, he uses the hand holding his cigarette to scratch at his jaw as he speaks. "Whatever you want is fine with me. Beats cafeteria food." Especially since he's been living off of the same salad bar ingredients for a while now. Blowing the smoke out through the crack of his unrolled window, Tim then shifts his gaze to the passing streets, apparently unable to not be distracted by his surroundings. Which isn't at all a bad thing.


Jay: No, Leech is quite glad of the distraction, since it keeps him from talking too much and giving away his own discomfort. Likewise, the mexican food place they stop at is too crowded and loud for anything serious in the way of conversation. But the kid eats fairly well, and Leech makes sure to get a to-go order as well, because he doesn't like the cafeteria food better than anyone else. Afterwards, reclaiming the drivers seat in the car, Leech looks briefly at Tim. "I've gotta get back to the school; we got that trip tomorrow and I still need to get some shit ready." He sounds fairly apologetic, and if the timing was different, he probably wouldn't be against finding somewhere else to spend the night, since the school can only sharpen Tim's awareness of his newly orphaned situation.


Jackie: Tim just about destroys the complimentary chips and salsa, which makes it hard for him to finish his own plate of food. Pushing his plate off to the side, he wipes at the corners of his mouth with his napkin and then places it on top of his dish, looking up at the older boy seated in front of him. He can only shake his head for that, since he catches on to that apologetic tone, and sits back to rest against the booth's backrest. "Thanks for dinner. And for getting me out. And the tattoo." He sighs a little, reaches for the straw in his glass of water to poke around at the ice. "I appreciate it."


Jay: Leech nods acceptingly, because he's clearly incapable of saying 'you're welcome', and waves to get the waitress's attention. Once the check is paid, and the excess food packaged up to accompany them back, Leech finishes the tiny bit of wine in his glass and heads outside. He's not moving too quickly; even aside from Tim's dilemma, he's reluctant to go back to the school, because he doesn't spend nearly enough time away. But he returns to the car and starts it up, making sure Tim is buckled in before heading back to the interstate that will take them to the school complex.


Jackie: As the waitress clears their table, Tim mutters out his gratitude, which is quickly dismissed by the older waitress. Getting up from his seat, he follows Leech out of the restaurant and back towards the car, his bandaged hand going back to his neck to scratch at it lightly. Climbing into the car and buckling up, he settles down into himself and rests his temple against the glass of the window, face fairly expressionless as they travel back towards the school. Nearly ten minutes of silence passes before Tim breaks it, eyes not bothering to look over to his driver. "Hey Leech...?"


Jay: In relatively short time, they've left the city behind, trees closing in on either side of the six-lane highway. Leech is chewing on his inner cheek, again, probably wanting to break the silence, but not so well-versed on making small talk, or comforting words, either. Therefore, he's grateful when Tim speaks, and glances at him after passing the sixteen wheeler ahead. "Yeh?"


Jackie: He opens his mouth to speak, but doesn't like what almost comes out-- so he shakes his head as if that dismisses the words, or even the thought behind them. Picking his head up, he loosely crosses his arms over his tummy and glances at the new tattoo on his forearm, contemplating quietly. But then he tries again, redirecting his gaze to the trees, voice impossibly small. "What am I supposed to do, now?"


Jay: Leech tilts his head, considering. He knows there are answers he should give, as a 'childcare professional', but hell if thinks Tim will buy any of them. So he stays silent for a moment, trying to come up with something not too trite, nor too pessimistic. Not much luck with that. "Jus, try not to think. Follow the routine, distract yerself til it doesn't hurt so bad. Like a wound; wait til it scabs over before you uncover it." If he isn't just a ray of fucking sunshine. He sits in silence for another moment, finding the appropriate exit and taking it, slowing the car. "You oughta talk to Kellen, when ya feel like talking. If you feel like talking. He went through somethin pretty similar not too long ago."


Jackie: Since it's safer for him to keep his eyes away from Leech's, he eventually closes them in favor of just listening to Leech's suggestion. It all makes sense and theory, and Lint probably knows that that is the route he'll inevitably go down, but it still stings. Even if this was all 2 years in the making, something underneath the surface always held on to this idea of Lint's parents showing up on the last day of school. Taking a deep breath, he then lolls his head to the other side, blinking those blue eyes over at Leech. His eyebrows arch a little bit, clearly not well versed in Kellen's history. But then he just nods, because he can't commit to talking to anyone, at this point.


Jay: Leech notices the way Tim looks at him even through the rising dark and from the corner of his eye. He's not surprised that Kellen hasn't talked of that whole thing; not only is it pretty painful, it also comes close to giving away his relationship with Leech, which Leech himself has asked Kellen to avoid doing. He twitches his shoulders, more an uncomfortable, unconscious action than a shrug, continuing in a flat voice that doesn't give away anything about how he feels. "His parents were divorced, beginning of last summer. They sorta had a custody battle, but not because they couldn't stand to be without him - neither of them wanted the responsibility of keepin' him. 's part'a the reason he came here." They reach the school, a shorter trip than the one out since Leech wasn't taking the scenic route, and he parks in his previous spot, near the small outbuilding where they emerged from the basement.


Jackie: Tim wrinkles his nose for that backstory, mostly because it makes his insides hurt a little bit more for his suitemate, even if he yanks Jesse away from him time to time. Moving his head to face forward, he then shifts around and cranes his head back a little so he's looking at the roof of the car. The silence falls over them again, up until they reach the school, and Tim immediately tenses for being confined in those gates again, hand reaching for his seat belt while Leech parks. "What time are we leaving in the morning?"


Jay: Leech is glad he can end his story there, before Tim asks who got custody of Kellen. Leech rolls out of the car, pulling his leather jacket tighter around himself, since the evenings are quite cool now and he wasn't planning on being out in them in a skirt. His pace towards that nondescript outbuilding is pretty rapid. "Ahh, around 7:30, I think. It takes a few good hours to get there." Unlocking the building, he holds the door open for Tim, then follows him in and down the staircase.


Jackie: As soon as the car is parked, Tim is unbuckled and reaching for the door handle, slinking out of the car not-so-gracefully due to his bum hand and his newly inked arm. As he makes his way towards the building, he makes sure to keep up in pace, since he's without a jacket, he can imagine that a being a skirt is much colder. Once in the building, he turns towards Leech, that bandaged hand ofcourse moving to his neck compulsively. "...can I stay in one of the isolation rooms tonight? I just...don't..." And he shrugs a little descriptively, kind of expecting Leech to get where he was going with that one.


Jay: Leech relaxes once inside; although the underground hallways are chilly, too, they're always a steady temperature, and he's used to it. He nods for Tim's question, having been thinking the kid wouldn't want to go upstairs and answer questions, anyway. "Yeh, 's fine." But rather than an isolation room, he leads Tim back to his own rooms, instead. As he enters, he hangs his keys back up, then motions to a door on the opposite side of his desk. "'s a spare room through there, if ya wanna pass out. Or..." He looks around uncertainly, since his own living space isn't the most welcoming. Eventually he shrugs, and settles on inquiring: "Y'want some wine?"


Jackie: Making his way down to Leech's room, alwaysofcourse following after the older boy, Tim once again stands unsteadily in the doorway of his dwellings. He figures Leech is grabbing another set of keys, or maybe just wants to drop his food off, but then he's offering our that spare room and Tim's shoulders untense for it. Silently thankful, he starts for that door but then pauses for that offering, turning a bit and watching Leech's face for a moment. Dropping his eyes to the floor, he kind of nods and then takes a couple more steps to hover near the couch.


Jay: Leech nods, as well, and drops his leather jacket on the way to the tiny kitchen. There, he pours a couple glasses of merlot from the already-opened bottle, then circles around through his own bedroom to change into some comfy, fuzzy, leopard print jammie pants, and a very worn looking, too big cocksparrer shirt with the sleeves cut off. Thus attired, he returns to the main room, a combination living room and office, and hands Tim one of the glasses silently before folding himself up like an accordion on the couch and sipping at his own wine.


Jackie: When Leech makes his way into the kitchen, Tim hovers around uncertainly, his tattooed arm coming to cross over his chest as he peers around the room. Since he's been mostly sitting all day-- in the class, in the car, at the tattoo shop, and at the restaurant--, Tim doesn't bother to take a seat. He just kind of paces around the room in a slow circle, only turning around when Leech reenters in his sleep attire. Which may earn the smallest, tiniest half smile in the world. Taking that glass, he peers down at it uncertainly and takes a small sip, kind of making a face for it since he's not that much of a drinker. "Thanks."


Jay: Leech gives a wry look for Tim's reaction to the wine, not broad enough to be considered a smirk, but close. "I like dry wine. Think there's a few bottles'a Guinness in the fridge still, if ya'd rather that." Not that they're his; Leech isn't much of a drinker either, and never goes beyond a couple glasses of wine. Looking around, he snatches the remote control off the couch's arm and turns on the stereo (because he does not own a television), and switches CDs until he finds some fairly innocuous X to listen to.


Jackie: Trying another sip, Tim's taste buds acclimate to the wine and it goes down much more smoothly, enough so that he doesn't even make a face. Shaking his head for the offer, he eventually stoops down to sit on the ground next to the couch, using it as a back rest as he places his glass of wine on the nearby table. "Nah, it's all right. It's good." Referring to the wine, of course. Pressing up against the couch, he hears his back pop a few times and sighs for it, looking all sorts of exhausted but knowing that he won't be able to sleep.


Jay: Watching Tim settle onto the floor, Leech again has - and again denies - the urge to pet his head in a reassuring manner. He only gives an agreeing noise for Tim's appraisal of the wine, taking another drink from his. He does still need to pack, but it feels wrong to just leave the kid sitting there, and not solely because Leech is unused to having people in his space. So he casts around (hopelessly) for conversation. "Ahh...Michaels went home fer the holiday, yeh?" He's aware of Tim's connection to Jesse, has been aware of it; it's why he put Jesse in the adjoining dorm in the first place. Perhaps if Kellen and Mike aren't close enough to Tim to offer any consoling, Jesse would be.


Jackie: Curling his legs into himself, Tim wraps one arm around his shins to hug them closer to his chest, the other arm reaching for the wine so he can take a generous sip. Normally, the mention of Jesse would instantly perk him up, but instead its just a reminder that his best friend isn't here. He masks that emotion well from behind his wine glass, nodding as he returns it to the table top. "Yeh, he's back in California. Think he's going further south to see more family, though. Should be nice weather." Thankful for the distraction, he at least attempts to contribute more to the conversation.


Jay: "Mmm." However well Tim masks the emotion, Leech assumes it's there, and he didn't bring Jesse up for mere change of conversation. Instead, he offers: "Would it-- y'can, call him, if you want." He waves to the phone on the desk in offer, hoping that if Tim has someone else to talk to, Leech can go about his own business. He needs to remember to take Kellen's spare toothbrush; the kid will never remember it on his own.