"Jay?" Tim asked, his voice dry and cracked from lack of use. He hadn't spoken all day, and it showed. He hadn't needed to, anyway. Jay had been unconscious for so long, and if he hadn't been moving in his sleep, Tim would have feared he had slipped into a coma. But something was wrong now, Tim could see that. Jay was writhing, limbs tangling in the sheets, his facial expression strained and panicked. "Jay?" Tim repeated, louder this time, as he stood up from his bedside vigil and placed a hand firm hand on Jay's shoulder. Jay continued to struggle, trapped in whatever nightmare he was fighting at present. Tim was scared to wake him up. He wasn't sure if he should, or if he even could. It had been a few weeks since their terrible encounter with the Operator, and Jay had only been conscious for more than an hour a handful of times. Tim woke him up when he could to get some food and water in his system, give him one of his own pills if needed, drag him to the bathroom, the basic things. In those brief snatches of consciousness, Jay would ask questions. Those questions would range from alarmingly basic things like "Who are you?" and "Where am I?" to normal Jay-like things like "Have you updated Twitter?" and "Have you seen *him*?" with such rapidity that it made Tim's head spin. Jay could go from not knowing who he was to reciting to him the password to his Twitter account in the blink of an eye.
Jay stopped writhing suddenly, sighing deeply in his sleep and visibly relaxing, sinking back into the messy nest of covers. Tim let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and ran a hand through his hair. Sitting back down in the hotel desk chair that he had pulled up to the side of Jay's bed, Tim watched the other man sleep now. Jay wasn't getting better, and Tim's supply of pills wasn't going to last forever. Tim wasn't even sure they were helping Jay, but he seemed to be a bit better after he took one. They helped somehow, Tim was certain of it. It wasn't as if Jay was in a fit state to protest them yet, anyway. Tim knew that he would be angry with him for sharing his pills. Forever noble, kind-hearted Jay. He would be upset with him for depleting his supply and foregoing his own prescribed doses. But it was worth it in Tim's eyes, if they were helping Jay. Stirring now, Jay opened his eyes for one of those brief trips into the conscious world he made every so often nowadays. "Tim?" he mouthed, struggling to sit up. "Yeah, Jay?" Tim replied, standing up to fill a styrofoam cup with water for him. At least he remembers who I am, Tim thought. "How many tapes do we have left?" Jay asked anxiously, having propped himself up into a halfway sitting position using the beds pillows. "We have enough, don't worry." Tim replied, pausing briefly before handing the cup to Jay. He looked like he could drink it himself. Jay sipped at it tentatively, glancing nervously around the room. "We're okay, Jay.." Tim said quietly, putting his hand awkwardly on Jay's shoulder in an attempt at comfort. Jay nodded, his eyes focusing on the cup of water, nearly empty now. "Do you want some food?" Tim asked, standing up to get it anyway. Jay was going to eat, whether he wanted to or not. He needed to. Jay gave a small nod as Tim returned to his chair with a bag of trail mix, handing it to Jay. "Here, you get the one with the most M&M's." Jay smiled a little at that, tearing the bag open with little difficulty. Tim felt something like hope. This was the most coherent Jay had been so far, and Tim found himself intently watching Jay eat on his own. Looking away, Tim cleared his throat and picked at his nails for something to do.
"So have you checked the Youtube channel?" Jay asked through a mouth half full of peanuts and raisins. "Yeah." Tim nodded, "I checked it this morning, first thing. Nothing new." Tim had taken to checking it every morning, out of habit. He never expected to find anything, but it was nice to have something of a routine. There wasn't much to do anyway. Jay frowned, and Tim wondered briefly what he had been expecting. Jay sat the trail mix down, empty of all but a quarter of its contents, on the nightstand. "Do you want some wa-" Tim started, looking at Jay, who was now squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them again, his expression had changed completely. He looked childlike, fearful. Once again he began to look around the room for whatever, or whomever, he thought would be there, and once again Tim reached for Jay's shoulder. "We're okay, buddy." he said, trying to catch Jay's eye. But Tim's touch seemed to only frighten Jay more. "What? Who.." Jay said hoarsely, appearing thoroughly confused now. "Who are you?" he stammered and Tim felt his heart sink. "It's me..." Tim whispered, feeling suddenly so tired, "Tim." A brief recognition passed through Jay's eyes, and he appeared to calm down marginally. "Why...are we in a hotel room?" Jay asked, glancing down at the hand Tim still had on his shoulder. Tim retracted it awkwardly, holding back a sigh. "There was an accident. You lost your memory, but it should be temporary." Tim said, his voice falling into a monotone style one would use for a speech you had given one too many times. Jay listened quietly to Tim's summary of the events of previous months, questioning none of it. Tim finished after several minutes, drawing breath and preparing for Jay's usual onslaught of questions that followed. They didn't come. Instead, Jay simply nodded tiredly, "I believe you..." he said, laying back down slowly and watching the ceiling. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but apparently could not find the correct words to say. Instead, Jay closed his eyes, frowning slightly. "I believe you." he whispered, and Tim nodded, more to himself than Jay.
Tim stood up, laying down on top of the covers of his own bed. Drawing his knees in, Tim faced Jay on the opposite bed, drawing in ragged breaths that he told himself were calming. He felt so alone all of the sudden, and that scared him. He was the only one here for Jay, the only one taking care of him. But if Jay never got better... Tim swallowed the panic rising in his throat at that thought. Jay would have to get better, of course he would get better. He had to get better. Tim refused to think of what would happen if he didn't. Jay needed proper medical care that Tim simply couldn't provide. Jay needed, Tim thought, none of what had happened to him the past few years. Then again, he didn't need it either. No one did. Tim thought briefly of Brian, of Alex and Jessica, Seth and Sarah, and wondered if he should even allow himself to wonder about them. Tim felt tired now, and dragged himself off the bed to pull the covers down. He didn't bother to change into proper sleeping attire, and instead crawled into bed fully clothed. Pulling his knees closer to his body, Tim watched Jay sleep, pleading silently that his best friend would remember him in the morning.