Oh, and there. It glides into existence in the periphery of his vision, like the faceless, looming ghost of the thing haunting their lives. Tim glares at it, the neat, dark splotch of the cat's face, its delicate movements stretched into a smug slowness clearly meant to underline just how small he and Jay are compared to it.

Tim faces it squarely, hands balling into fists, his voice low and dangerous.

"You're not taking him back." He grinds it out between clenched teeth. "I don't care what you wanna do with him. He's not yours."