Jay lets out a startled yelp that sharpens into a breathless cry of pain as he's thrown abruptly across the room, even further out of reach than he already was, nothing but a tool, a fucking bargaining chip.

"Tim, no," he says raggedly, already weakened by the force of impact that he shouldn't even be able to feel. "Stop!"

This can't be happening. Not after everything they've been through and everything that's changed the past few days. He lets out a cough, startlingly - hasn't felt that in a while.

"Don't take him, you're not taking him." He draws himself up as much as he can, his limbs still pinned, immobilized and aching. He knows this is pointless. He has nothing to offer. Nothing left to give. He never did.

"Tim," he says finally, looking at him, pleading.