For as long as you could remember you’ve always had a thing for creating bracelets. Whenever it’d be looms, beads and string, or friendship bracelets. The habit never died even as you ventured into your teens and life nerving events happened. Being noticed by the operator, being snatched up by three masked men, and then being told that you’re now working for the entity and if you run you die. You were stressed to say the least. Jumpy at the smallest thing, snappy whenever one of the three men tries to make small talk.

Hoodie or what you heard Masky call him, Brian, gave up on you and tried to communicate with you. Toby, ever the follower, gave up as well, puffing out his chest whenever Masky would question his reasoning. Toby typically would give him a snippy remark and walk off. But Masky — or Tim, as you’ve gotten to know him, never gave up. It was odd for him, he was the grumpiest, the snappiest. But here he is, putting his time and patience into a kid. He gravitated towards you, a protective instinct filling his body.

As the more comfortable you got in their presence, the less scared you were to ask for things and you always asked for resources to make bracelets. Brian would always shut down the ideas, taking on the grumpy man demeanor since Tim decided that he was going to soften up on you. And softened up did he, like a kid he made an ‘allowance’ (stole from Brian’s wallet) and went out and bought your resources.

—

“Tim,” You muttered as you walked up to the back of the couch, twisting something in between your fingers. Tim, who had a vanilla file opened with the information of their next victim on it (printed off by Brian), turned his head. “Hm?” He closed the file and dropped it on the coffee table. You bit your cheek and held out a friendship style bracelet. It was a yellow and white color and thick. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” You rambled nervously as Tim took the bracelet and looked it over with a proud fatherly smile.

“I love it, thanks kid.”