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Jay had a somber look to him. Something Tim noticed only a few days ago. No matter where he is; watching old tapes in the motel room, crouching around some bushes in Rosswood Park, or simply sitting beside him on the drivers' seat.
Tim couldn't help stealing glances at him. It was one of those long nights where nothing is happening. Streetlights turning into a blur. Their camera slowly sliding down from the dashboard. The smell of air fresheners were almost nauseating. Jay's sunken eyes lingered at every tree they passed. Bloodshot. He shivered for a second before zipping up his jacket. He looked so small.
Oh how much Tim wanted to hate him. He should have. Jay have no obligation to save anyone or to seek answers. Dragging Tim back into the fray were even worse. The stability he worked for was fragile as a pill submerged in water.
If he couldn't hate Jay, at least he could try sleeping for tomorrow. They'll arrive at their old place soon. Being one step ahead of Alex is a priority. They took turns driving, refusing to stop if it were not for filling up the gas tank and buying their meals.
Tim reached the car radio. There was only static. Not a danger sign. It was sometime after midnight and they're in the middle of nowhere. He looked at Jay again. The other man caught his eyes. Tim turned away, watching how the headlights land on the asphalt road. Red and orange intersecting. Jay kept on driving. Both reluctant to speak.
"All we do is drive", Tim remarked.
The other man hums in agreement. Did he even listen? Tim start to tap on the windows. When that doesn't quell his restlessness he fiddled with the few cigs he had left. He wonders if Jay experienced the same thing. Nothing to do but stare at anything while Tim drove wordlessly.
"What I'm saying is you look tired. Did you even sleep these days?" Tim asked.
"Don't think so. But you're not exactly resting, either."
"Hard to do so when someone is trying to kill you."
Jay shot him an annoyed look, in which Tim promptly ignores. Yes, I know we're in the same boat here but, whatever. He couldn't come up with anything better than that.
The road goes on with its monotony.
"I think I'm going to die," Jay said.
Tim found himself looking at Jay again. He had a strange head shape. His sunken eyes are begging for rest. Reminder that Tim only has a few hours left for rest. Who cares about that? Not Tim of course. He forgot. He's staring. Jay's lips are chapped dry. Slightly open, downturned.
"Why?"
"A gut feeling. It's not that I have anything else going on before all of this," Jay gestured at his camera.
"Don't you want to be a filmmaker or something?"
"It's a bit too late for that."
"You don't have to die just because you didn't get your dream job, Jay."
"I know, I'm not suicidal."
"Then you're not going to die," Tim assured, pictures of Alex bashing someone's head with a rock flashing through his mind.
"When this is over, I don't mind you staying at my place for a while. Find out what you want to do after this."
Jay smiled, a strange sort of warmth washed through his hollow chest. "Thank you."
Seeing Jay looked so hopeful made Tim realizes the growing dread gnawing on his chest. There is someone screaming inside of him, begging at whatever is out there that the highway they're passing will never end. Even if they come out of this both alive, it won't be a victory to celebrate. Is this what Jay have been feeling? Suddenly, he was aware of how cramped the car is with two people.
The camera on their dashboard is blinking. Low battery. Tim grab the camera, changing its tape. He hoped tomorrow he'll look at Jay and find only, contempt.