He's pretty sure this is not one of his smartest ideas. [OTA, Multiples, Let the Good Times Roll]
Tim hasn't been able to get his and Cissie's brief interlude with White Eyes out of his head, and while he's sure that was half of the point of the man-boy-thing's cryptic answers, knowing that doesn't actually help. He's a detective and a scientist. He likes to know how things work, and why they work, and there never had been any kind of satisfactory answer about the... mirrors? Windows?
Whatever they were.
He needs to know. Needs to. Because... what if what he'd shown them had been true? What if Alfred really isn't okay? What if he's sick or--
Not dying. He can't be dying, because Tim flat out refuses to lose any more family.
He settles himself more steadily onto his crutches and moves toward the gate. He... should probably tell Cissie what he's up to, but he doesn't want to argue with her. She'd tell him to stay, that anything White Eyes had shown them was just a lie meant to unsettle them, and... maybe she's right.
But he needs to know.
He heads out into the Wood.
Whatever they were.
He needs to know. Needs to. Because... what if what he'd shown them had been true? What if Alfred really isn't okay? What if he's sick or--
Not dying. He can't be dying, because Tim flat out refuses to lose any more family.
He settles himself more steadily onto his crutches and moves toward the gate. He... should probably tell Cissie what he's up to, but he doesn't want to argue with her. She'd tell him to stay, that anything White Eyes had shown them was just a lie meant to unsettle them, and... maybe she's right.
But he needs to know.
He heads out into the Wood.