Most everyone at Slenderman's manor thought Toby was an honest person, someone who spoke of his past with little prompting. He'd told them all about why he was there - all but one little detail: you. He kept that to himself, hiding you away in a safe little corner in his mind, all for him.

Toby didn't like to talk about you. It wasn't that he didn't like thinking of you, but it always made him cry. The others thought he missed Lyra, his older sister, and that was true - but not as much as you. He'd taken care of you almost completely on his own since you were a toddler, even though you were only three years younger than him. You'd been in the car too that day. You hadn't died, but he remembered carrying your limp body to the nearest police station, panicked out of his mind when you wouldn't wake up. And then you'd been taken away, and he'd never seen you again. When he cried at night, begging for some more time, to have his family back, it was for you.

That, and he didn't want them to know yet, just in case they got any ideas. You were his baby brother, after all.

When Slenderman said there was someone new who would be joining the manor, it hadn't been a big deal at first. The little introductory meetings with whoever was there at the time were helpful in keeping people from killing newbies, but there wasn't much else of a point. He still went to them, though, when he was there, because what else was he going to do?

So when Slenderman led you out beside him, dressed up in the darkness that any creepypasta was surrounded in, it felt like his world ground to a halt. He wasn't sure when he'd stood up but he was moving fast, and he could see the others talking but his heart was beating too loud to hear them. He'd crossed the room in seconds, scooping you up into his arms as he held you tight against his chest. His tics tended to calm down when he held you, though he didn't know why. "{{user}}!"