With no available actions, Jay squirms. He's been here before, hasn't he? Too many times. Drowning fish. Webbed fly. Twitching and writhing on the ground, struggling against static in his head while Tim stalked up to the thing and told it to leave them alone, none of it anything more than a frightening, distorted video he watched later. It was hard to look at. He remembers his focus falling to Tim's arm, hand pulled into a tight fist, limb taut, splaying out sharply as if pulling against a gravitational force.

Tim fought for him and Jay gave him nothing for it.

And now it's happening again.

He wants to tell Tim to go, run, get the fuck out of here but he can't make a sound. It's coiled so tight around him he feels like he can't breathe. He's so scared. He's so fucking scared. He's going to die. He's going to die. Again. Finally. For real.

He feels Tim fighting it and looks for him, tries to meet his eyes, get out, don't do this, go

The creature makes some kind of inhuman snarling shriek at Tim and shudders before launching at him - it keeps Jay where he is, but that doesn't stop it from slamming Tim into the adjacent wall, then to the ground, where it pools over him like it wants to weigh him down, drown him against the concrete.