Tim hesitates. Cougar's fucking with him, obviously. The cupboard is too small to fit a person, even if said person were a small child. Checking would be stupid, and a waste of time, and would probably just prove whatever point Cougar's trying to make. Unease creeps up his spine, curling around his neck and suffocating him. He can't leave it unchecked. It's stupid, it's so stupid, and yet he reaches for it anyway, and pulls the door open to peer inside.

It's empty, of course. And suddenly, he feels tired. The fever sweeps over him again, leaving him feeling weak and chilled. He sighs heavily, leaning back against the counter just to keep himself upright. Cougar's right — he needs to lay down. He hates that Cougar's right.