The apartment is still in a mild state of disarray, as much as they tried to put it back together post-destruction of the Base. Tim's rapidly learning that they're both the sort of person to simply let their own mess sit until it grows so obstructive they must either plot their routine around it or shift it to some other unfortunate, less immediate spot. The amount of energy required to actually go and thoroughly clean the place, sifting through jumbled cameras and their collective amount of accumulated shit, just isn't something either of them have the luxury to expend.

Tim's eyes briefly rake over the space they've been sharing for the past, what? few weeks? before glancing back at Jay, sharp and sidelong, and the quiet burble of the coffeemaker that Jay seems to have switched on out of weary habit. He recognizes that. The grounding need to find something normal, something physical to do with his hands. Normal people make coffee.

Normal people also take showers.

"Well, I'm gonna shower," Tim says, a shade unhelpfully. He yanks once at his bloodstained mess of a shirt. "Think this one's done for."

That's one more thing he can pin on his less agreeable alternate persona, he thinks bitterly as he opens the bathroom door and swishes it shut behind him with the methodical jerk of a wrist. Tearing off into the woods every now and again has really done a number on his wardrobe over the years. It's not like he's got a whole lot of shirts.