Jay shudders hard when Tim takes his other wrist, but he doesn't pull away. It takes him a few moments to look up at him.

Does he know?

How?

He doesn't want to ask. Now's still not the time.

He swallows, again and again, then nods. "Okay," he says, his tongue thick, his throat sore. "Okay. Um."

He tries to get up. Not sure if he should pull his hands back now and use them for leverage or just let Tim support him. The drain of EVE is making all of this worse. He wants it, tries to ignore the want.

"I'm sorry," he babbles, no idea what about.