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**No one ever called him Chuck.News has a habit of spreading fast, and through the twin efforts of Logan and Utah, not-Tim suddenlyfound himself repeatedly at the end of hushed whispers and uncomfortable stares that quickly led toaverted eyes. Laughter had a habit of abruptly dying out whenever he entered a room. Tommy startedgoing around with a crudely-constructed tinfoil hat ("You look like an idiot," he was informed. "You'rejust jealous that you don't have one and people can read your thoughts," Tommy replied), although not-Tim couldn't be sure if the teen's aforementioned headwear had anything to do with him.Nobody really talked to him anymore.There were exceptions, of course; the cornflakes guy for one continued to be oblivious as ever, and stillheld loyal thoughts towards the one who'd taken care of him and given him his first taste of rum. BobArctor knew no better. Hamlet in the broom cupboard had not heard the news; neither had those in thelocked room or those who had wandered off to other parts of the hotel. Among those who knew, a few –mostly the older ones – remained civil, but all interactions were painfully polite. There were no morehyper rum raid expeditions to the eighth floor.Meanwhile, Ted was plagued with guilt; he had not expected his little bit of news to have such results.Later that morning he found not-Tim standing to a side of the fourth floor corridor watching the world goby, and walked tentatively up to him."Mr. Reeves?""Yeah?"Ted hesitated.Then: "Dude, I'm sorry-"Not-Tim hugged him.