It’s a roller coaster in an earthquake. The hum of the ray gun is lost in the roar of destruction. Concrete crumbling, dropping in large chunks, shards pinging in all directions. It’s all so fast that Tim only recognizes that there were sounds as he’s mutely watching the energy crack his restraints. Even if his mouth was free to talk, he wouldn’t. He doesn’t even flinch when the table falls away behind him.

He’s pulled in close - hoisted, more like, as his feet don’t even touch the ground anymore - but Tim doesn’t try to fight the way he had the henchmen. Everything about him says hero. Tall and broad, awash in bold color blocks of primary colors. Handsome, like Atomight and Fantastic. When he saw news footage of dramatic rescues, Tim always thought they looked over dramatic. Princess carries or tight one arm embraces straight off a bodice ripper, and the person being rescued fawning.

But, no. He gets it. In the flash of time between being picked up and set down, there isn’t enough space for anything but wow. If he’s wide-eyed and breathless when the strap’s taken away, no one can blame him. The guy has to be used to it. To have a rescue come at superspeed in the proverbial nick of time, overwhelming. Awe-inspiring. Kinda overrides the fear, which means that Tim isn’t so frozen. He ducks down behind the crates as directed.

“Thank you.” For saving his life. The ray gun is currently smiting the floor, instead of Tim, so gratitude is necessary. Especially since he’s still caught in the middle of a metahuman fight, holy shit. The instruction was to stay, but there’s a giant hole in the wall that he could run through instead of being a spectator. “You’re going to come back and do that again, right?”

Please get him out of here.