[ Tim's blood freezes. His lips part, but for a second no sound comes out. ]

Wai-wai-wait, the what? [ No. There's no way he'd do it again. ] The bod—

[ Rhys might be able to run, but there's more and more wall at his back the further he retreats. Tim's fast when he wants to be. ]

Wha–what do you mean, body snatching? I thought he switched to the digistruct method, you're telling me...?

[ When he throws caution to the wind. When he stops worrying about things like getting punched if he decides to rush a cornered gangly nerd. He stops just short of grabbing him by the shoulders; Timothy Lawrence might be crazy, but he's reasonably sure he's not an idiot. ]

Okay listen. Here's the thing. I'm not Jack. You hear me? I'm not him, and it is... [ it's not a laugh that leaves on his breath but something similarly frenetic and shaky, ] really, really important that you tell me what he did.

[ For a second, he looks almost as sick as Rhys. ]