"Yeah, that's true," says Jay with a little half-laugh, and then he tilts his head thoughtfully. "I wonder if I show up on film. Or, you know, tape. I mean, all my cameras changed back, so, um..." He shrugs. "There's always phone cameras. If I-"

He can feel himself starting to babble, and maybe it's fortuitous that he's suddenly cut off, but he'd rather it not be like this.

After several days of being utterly intangible it's a very odd sensation to be pulled, more like dragged, hard and fast, his manifested shape jerking up a couple feet above the floor and then shoved. He feels that right in his chest, like something has struck him, hard enough to wind him when he doesn't even draw breath. He's thrown across the room and then stopped, incongruously, by the wall. The impact actually hurts on some level and he lets out a frantic grunt. He should be able to just drift back down but he can't, he's - he's stuck. Pinned. He struggles against the invisible force holding him down, knowing immediately what this is because there's only one thing it could be.

"No," he gasps, straining to pull away from the wall, but he might as well be magnetized there. He looks up, desperate and afraid, so fucking afraid, and his voice cracks: "Tim-!"