The sunlight filters through the tree branches brightly, spilling onto the ground in strange patterns and stretching out over the pathway. There's no wind, but the branches seem to sway ever so slightly regardless; though when Tim focuses his gaze on them, they seem as still as ever.

It had been relatively easy to find Judge's Trail with the map. Yet, Tim can understand how people without one could easily pass by it. The opening to the trail is nestled beneath a low arch of trees that is nearly overgrown by the surrounding bushes that had sprung up on either side of it. There is no trail sign, but Tim knows it's the correct path because there isn't another trail for at least a mile on either side of the entrance to confuse it with.

For a while he walks undisturbed. It's strangely quiet though. He doesn't expect to run into hikers, yet even without that the woods seem oddly empty. The rustling of leaves, the soft padding of animal footprints, the chatter of birds – all silent. Tim's footsteps and steady breathing are the only sounds in the crisp air. It unnerves him slightly, but somehow he can't say he's not surprised. It is Rosswood, after all. He's just grateful he got to the park in the morning – during the day, and with plenty of daylight to spare.

Then again, when has daylight really helped them in the past? That thing obviously had no problem showing itself in the daytime.

Feeling a lot more apprehensive after that thought, Tim swallows another pill and picks up the pace. For the most part, the trail stays fairly straight. Over time the trail starts arcing to the right, but it's so gradual it's almost unnoticeable.

After about twenty minutes of walking, the trail suddenly takes a sharp turn to the left. Tim follows it, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

The trail opens up into the exact "clearing" filmed in the totheark video. It's not exactly a clearing anymore, as thin trees have grown lightly throughout it, and the bushes that had once been on the edge of it have started to push their way inward. Vines hang down from the branches above, twisting together and stringing themselves across the tall grass.

On the far side of the clearing are the two burnt buildings. They look like they were never very tall or impressive, even before whatever fire destroyed them took place. Tim can't tell what they may have been used for originally; there's too much damage to make out any discerning features of the structures. As he approaches them, his gaze catches on two poles standing between the buildings. His brow creases as he walks up to the poles, but as soon as he catches sight of what's lying between them, his breath hitches in his throat.

Half-hidden in the tall grass is the bell from the totheark video. It looks to be about two feet tall, but it's tilted, part of the brim having long been embedded at least four inches deep into the dirt. It's in fairly good condition, and though Tim is curious to study it further he stops himself. This isn't the time – he can come back after he finds Jay. Tim makes his way around the poles and continues on towards the two buildings.

The smaller building is closer. The majority of the roof had caved in long ago, and vines and moss had taken over the wood, wrapping themselves around the rotting structure possessively. There is no door, just bits of broken wood littering the opening of what must have once been a doorway. Tim rests his hand against the rotting frame and leans forward, peering into the dimness. Leaves cover every inch of the ground, along with wooden boards and chunks of scattered brick. And there, lying in the center of the room, is Jay.

He is lying on his back, his head tilted slightly away from Tim. One arm is sprawled out in Tim's direction, the other is awkwardly bent at his side. He is completely still, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

"Jay," Tim says brokenly, his voice barely above a whisper. He stumbles into the room, as though his combined shock and relief has rendered him unable to recall how to walk. He's by Jay's side in three steps, where he falls to his knees beside his friend.

"Jay. Holy shit. Holy shit. I can't believe – Jay? Can you hear me, buddy?" Tim's hands hover over Jay's body, unsure where to touch. Honestly, he's scared to touch the frail form, as though his hands will pass through Jay's body, he'll wake up, and this hallucination, this dream, will be over.

Jay's eyebrows twitch, and he murmurs something faintly. Tim can't make it out, but it doesn't seem to matter in that moment. All that matters is that Jay – Jay – is alive. Tears brim along the edges of Tim's eyes, and a sob escapes him. Reaching down with a trembling hand, he touches Jay's shoulder.

He exhales a shaky breath he hadn't even been aware that he had been holding. Jay's shoulder is as boney as ever, but it's real. Tim's hand tightens as he stares at the face of the person he was so sure had been killed almost three years ago.

Tim notices that Jay is wearing the same clothes he had on the day Alex shot him. Tim grimaces, and wonders what's left from the wound. He leans over and sees that the bullet hole is still torn in the shirt. Tim's insides churn uneasily at the sight of it, guilt and rage twisting at the memory of what Alex had done to Jay. What Alex had done to everyone. Tim shakes his head. No, it wasn't all Alex's fault. Alex's mind had been warped by the creature years before he had pulled that trigger.

Oddly enough, there are no bloodstains on Jay's shirt. Tim frowns and reaches over, shifting the bottom of the shirt up slightly to get a better look at Jay's side.

There is not one sign that a bullet had torn through Jay's side. Not even a faint scar mars the pale skin. Tim sits back uneasily, unnerved by this discovery. But there's nothing else he can do about it until he has more information from Jay himself.

Tim is surprised to find that Jay doesn't smell at all. At least, not in the way one would assume a person to if they wore the same outfit for over two years. Instead, the thick scent of damp moss and rotting wood clings to him. But then Tim does get a hint of something unpleasant amongst the odd forest smell. For a second he's unable to place it, but when he does, he recoils slightly, repulsed. It's faint, but unmistakable: the stench of decay.

Fear grips Tim. He hopes the smell has nothing to do with Jay's physical condition – that it's just something Jay picked up from wherever he's been all this time (though that's not a comforting thought either). Tim gives Jay's shoulder a soft shake. "Jay. Come on, Jay, wake up. You're safe. I got you. We're getting out of here." Jay's hand pressed against his side gives a faint twitch, but he does not wake up.

Tim sets his jaw in determination, ignoring the pulsing fear that's settled on the edge of his mind. "Come on, Jay. Wake up." He shakes Jay's shoulder harder. "Jay."

He supposes he can carry Jay if he needs to, but he had been hoping for Jay to wake up before they left the clearing. He wants to be sure that Jay is alright. Tim glances warily through the slanted openings in the building's wall. After all, Jay's been here for too long already. They need to leave, before whatever had left Jay here decides to come back.

"Tim…find Tim…camera….Rosswood…"

Tim's attention is snapped back to Jay. Jay is moving slightly, though his eyes remain closed. Tim leans closer, his hand still pressed to Jay's shoulder. "Jay?"

Jay's eyelids flicker, and he emits a soft moan.

"Jay?"

Jay's eyebrows twitch towards each other briefly, as though in confusion, or pain. Then, slowly, his eyes open. He groans and groggily moves his head about, his eyes bleary as they struggle to recognize his surroundings. Then his gaze meets Tim's.

"Hey, buddy," Tim says weakly. He feels like a hundred emotions are trying to escape him, and it's with great effort that he manages to keep them all under control. A shaky smile spreads across his lips. "How're you feeling?"

Jay just stares at him. Uncertainty flashes across his face, and his lips part slightly. "Wha…who…" he manages to stutter, the words heavily slurred.

"It's me, Jay. It's Tim. I'm getting you out of here," Tim says. He tries to shake off the faint sense of nervousness that has suddenly crept up on him. He knows Jay is probably just getting his bearings after being unconscious for over half a day after that phone call, but Tim can't help but feel that something's not right. That way Jay is looking at Tim…it's not normal, even for something like this.

"…Tim?" Jay mutters, his eyes still trying to focus on the person kneeling beside him.

"Yeah, it's me. It's me, Jay."

"What are you…" Jay's words are muddled, but Tim is able to make them out easily enough. "What're you doing….here…" Jay blinks slowly, and tries to move his head to get a better look at where they are. But the effort is too much for him, and his head sinks back to the ground dully. "Where's Alex…Seth…we're supposed to be shooting today…"

Tim stares at Jay. "What?"

"Film…Alex's film…he'll be so angry if I'm not there…"

Tim's mouth drops open slightly. "Jay…how much do you remember? Before today?"

But Jay doesn't seem to hear the question. His eyes grow hazy and for a second they look like they're about to roll back into his head. "Ark…find the ark…I'm sorry Tim…I've gotta tell him I'm sorry…I didn't mean it…"

Tim gives Jay a hard shake. "Jay! Come on, snap out of it!"

Jay looks up at Tim, his expression suddenly terrified, startling Tim. "Find Alex. Find the Ark." A chill runs down Tim's spine at hearing the familiar words. Jay takes a shuddering breath, then coughs out a sob. "Alex…Benedict Hall…"

Tim's had enough. He needs to get Jay out of here. "Come on, we have to go, Jay." He crouches on the balls of his feet and wraps his arm around Jay's back, beneath the armpits. Jay mumbles something, but he doesn't resist Tim's movements. Tim pulls both of them to their feet and leads Jay through the structure's doorway.

"Camera…my camera…"

Here we go. Tim glances at Jay, who seems to be becoming more coherent now that they're out in fresh air and are moving. Jay looks around him hazily, and his gaze falls on Tim. "Tim. Where's the camera? I need it. That thing…it's here…I can't…not without…"

Tim sighs to himself in irritation. He had been expecting this, but still. They stop, and Tim tries unwinding his arm from around Jay, hoping that Jay is able to hold himself up for a second while he takes off his backpack. He isn't. The moment Tim's arm begins to slip away, Jay starts to crumple to the ground with a low moan. Tim immediately catches him, and eases Jay to a sitting position on the ground.

Jay seems unconcerned by the incident. It takes only a second for him to recover and then he's looking about him frantically, his words panicked. "Where's my camera? Where is it? Camera…camera…"

Tim hurriedly unzips his backpack and pulls the camera out of it. "Here, Jay, here!" He crouches down, holding the camera out.

Jay stops muttering instantly and stares at the thing. He slowly reaches out and takes it, turning it over in his hands and studying it carefully. Relief is clear on Jay's face, but it does nothing to ease Tim's concern. What's wrong with you, buddy?

"Okay, you got your camera. Are you ready now?"

Jay looks up at Tim. He squints, confusion clear on his face. "Tim?" he says. The word is clear – actually, it's the clearest thing Jay's said since he's woken up. Jay blinks and looks around them. "Where are…are we in Rosswood?" He still sounds slightly groggy, but it's a definite improvement. Jay returns his gaze to Tim, fear suddenly dominating his expression. "Is that masked man here? The one in the yellow jacket, with the white mask. Did he attack us?"

Tim feels as though his blood has turned to ice. He doesn't know how to respond to that question.

Jay glances down at the camera in his head, rubbing his forehead weakly. "I – I don't remember…what happened…"

"Jay, what do you remember?" Tim asks carefully.

Jay looks up at Tim, his eyes pleading. "I…I…can't. I – I don't know what…where are we?"

"We're in Rosswood Park, Jay," Tim said, struggling to keep his voice steady. "But we have to go. Now."

Jay glances around him frantically. "Is that thing nearby? That thing in the suit. Have you seen it?"

"No, Jay. But we have to go. I'll tell you everything once we're out of here. Okay?"

Jay considers what Tim says. Finally, he nods. "Okay."

Tim sighs in relief. "Good. Let's go." He begins to reach for Jay, but Jay pushes the hand away, his mouth set stubbornly.

"I don't need…" the sentence trails off as Jay attempts to push himself off of the ground. His arms shake violently at the effort and he starts to collapse again, but Tim lunges forward and manages to catch him before he hits the ground.

"What's…wrong with me?" Jay slurs, the alarm in his voice easy to hear even in his dazed state.

"I don't know," Tim replies honestly. He doesn't mean to say it; he doesn't want to scare Jay any further, but it just sort of slips out. "But we're gonna fix you," he says, trying to sound reassuring. "I promise. We just need to get you away from this place."

Jay nods faintly, though uncertainty is clear in his eyes. He licks his chapped lips, his breathing ragged. Tim suddenly feels like an idiot. Of course Jay would be thirsty. Who knows when he drank last? Tim pulls out one of the water bottles and unscrews the cap before holding it out to Jay. "Here. You need to drink some water."

Jay glances at the water bottle without interest. "I don't want any."

"You have to drink some, Jay. I won't have you passing out on me. You are beyond dehydrated."

Jay grimaces as he considers the clear liquid sloshing about in the plastic bottle. "I feel like I'm going to throw up…" He mutters.

"Well, if you do, do it away from my shoes," Tim lamely jokes, in a vain attempt to get some sort of positive reaction from Jay.

Jay doesn't say anything. His gaze shifts between Tim's face and the water, clearly having no desire to drink the liquid. But Tim's face is set, and he continues to hold out the bottle. Finally, Jay stretches out a shaking hand towards the water. Tim can tell Jay won't be able to hold the bottle on his own, so he keeps one hand wrapped around it as Jay brings it to his lips. Jay only gets about two mouthfuls of water before he suddenly chokes and coughs violently, spraying the water from his mouth.

"I…I can't…" he manages to gasp out once the coughing fit has passed.

Tim doesn't argue. He's sure that Jay's coughing was simply his body rejecting the liquid it's been denied for whatever amount of extended time, but it still sets him on edge. The urge to leave is stronger than ever. "It's fine," Tim says, putting the water bottle away. "Let's just go."

Tim once again hauls Jay to his feet and wraps his arm around Jay's back, supporting him with little effort. He's so thin. Thinner than before. Tim forces down the onslaught of emotions that once again plague him as he leads Jay away from the building. On one hand, Jay's alive. But…something is obviously very wrong with him. His memory is completely screwed up, as though it's been scrambled around for two years and then left a jumbled mess for Tim to find. Tim swallows hard. He hopes he can keep his promise to Jay about fixing him.

At first, Tim is pretty much dragging Jay though the clearing rather than simply supporting him. Jay is trying, but he can barely manage to put one foot in front of the other. Eventually he finds some level of balance and is able to stumble alongside Tim. As they pass the bell, Jay's eyes light up for a moment. With recognition, or simple interest, Tim can't tell. But it's a fleeting moment, and then Jay looks away without saying anything.

They walk down Judge's Trail silently, their labored breathing the only sounds drifting through the air. Jay is clutching the camera tightly, his focus centered on keeping a hold on the device more than anything else. It's on, and recording, but Jay doesn't seem to have the strength to lift it up to eye-level. Instead, it's pointing at the ground, recording the passing pathway and occasionally picking up Jay's shoe walking in and out of the corner of its frame.

Tim doesn't like that the camera is recording; he feels like they're playing their luck with that thing on. It reminds him too much of when he and Jay had made the entries. When they had been mercilessly stalked by the suited creature. Tim glances around him warily, watching the trees on either side of them as they walk.

They're almost to the end of the trail when Tim hears it. It's faint, but distinct. The sound of twigs cracking and leaves crunching. Of footsteps. Any other person would assume it's an animal, or a simple hiker, but Tim knows better. He stiffens and tugs Jay to a stop alongside him, twisting his neck around to examine the surrounding woods.

"What is it?" Jay asks. He sounds utterly exhausted.

"I heard something…" Tim mutters. His eyes narrow as he continues to search. He's about to turn back to face the pathway when he sees it. Out of the corner of his eye, a shadowed figure standing among the trees.

"Hey!" he shouts. If he wasn't holding Jay up, he would've immediately run after the thing. But by the time he even considers trying to set Jay down, the shadow has disappeared into the woods.

"What was it?" Jay asks anxiously.

"There's someone out there," Tim says grimly. He doesn't want to make Jay even more anxious, but he's not going to lie to him either. Not when it's about something that could endanger them both. Yet you had no problem lying to him about other things… Tim clenches his jaw and pushes the accusing thought out of his head.

Jay looks about them nervously. He tries to bring his camera up to record the tree line, but he just doesn't have the strength. Tim notices the attempt, and decides that – for the time being – getting out of the woods is more important that chasing after shadows. "Come on," Tim says quietly. "Let's go."

It's only a slight relief Tim feels when they make it to the end of Judge's Trail. The sunlight hits them full-force as they step out from beneath the arching trees, making them both squint their eyes in discomfort. Jay's body is getting heavier as the strength to hold himself up is quickly slipping away. But Tim doesn't slow down, and by the time they reach his car, Jay is nearly unconscious. Tim hurriedly opens the car's backdoor and has to lift Jay into his arms in order to lay him across the backseat. Jay's eyes are half-open and unfocused; his head lolls to the side once it touches the car seat, as he is clearly too weak to hold it up any longer. Surprisingly, he has still managed to hold onto the camera, though his grip on it is slackening. Tim notices and gently pulls the camera out of Jay's grasp, to which Jay moans faintly in protest.

"Don't worry, Jay. It's still recording," Tim says, holding up the camera so its red light blinks in Jay's direction. "It's okay."

But Jay's eyes are already drooping shut, and it's not even a second later before his body falls limp. Tim waits until he can see that Jay is breathing normally, and then he blows out a heavy breath of air, rubbing a hand over his forehead. He had no idea how to fix this, how to fix whatever had happened to Jay. Right now, all that's registering in his exhausted mind is that he needs to get Jay somewhere safe so they can both rest.

/

Hotels. He freaking hates hotels.

He hasn't been inside a hotel in two years, and was very proud of that record. But now here he is, sitting on the edge of an old hotel bed, with his only friend he had thought until yesterday was dead lying unconscious beside him. And to top it all off, that same friend probably has had his brain fried by a faceless monster for two years, and now has no idea what's going on. Tim almost laughs, the situation is so ridiculously bad. He lowers his face into his hands and rubs his eyes vigorously. And this raging headache isn't helping in the least.

It's late afternoon now, and Jay hasn't so much as stirred since they had arrived at the hotel. Tim knows he has to wake Jay up soon to try and get him to eat…and hopefully persuade him to take at least one of Tim's pills. Tim grimaces, remembering how Jay had reacted the last time he found out Tim had fed him pills while he had been out of it.

But this is different. He's been gone for two years. Trapped who knows where and having to face who knows what.

Tim gets to his feet and paces the room, rubbing his arms in agitation. He sighs, and goes into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly cracked. Soaking a washcloth with cold water, he presses it against his face and holds it there for a long while. He lets the facet run full-force, the sound of rushing water almost soothing. The water from the washcloth drips down his neck, and he revels in the slight comfort the sensation brings as he tries to collect his thoughts and figure out what to do next.

He finally lowers the washcloth to the counter with a heavy sigh. He splashes fresh water on his face and wipes a towel across his skin, trying to ignore the strong scent of bleach the towel gives off. Lazily dropping the towel onto the edge of the bathroom's small counter, Tim pushes open the bathroom door and steps back into the bedroom.

Jay is still sleeping on the bed. He's in the same position he's been in for hours, but his breathing is steady, which eases Tim's worry somewhat. Tim turns towards the opposite wall, which the room's dresser is pushed up against. He had propped his backpack full of food against it, and figures now is a good time to try and get Jay to eat something. But the moment his gaze falls upon the dresser he freezes, staring at the mirror hanging above it in horror.

On the glass, scrawled in dark red writing, is a single message:

THIS WILL RECTIFY NOTHING