Jay peers over the top of the viewfinder screen to stare at Tim. They've got all the time in the world for...what?

He furrows his brow, tilts his head slightly.

What's Tim suggesting? That he...get a hobby? He turns the idea over in his head, and he finds there's something innately ridiculous about it. It's something you'd say to someone who just came home for summer break, maybe someone who got laid off. You've got all this time, now, Jay. I don't want to see you wasting it in front of the computer.

He winces, remembering.

Then again, the investigation started out as a hobby, too. Something to keep his mind occupied during the blank stretches of time between shifts and sleep. Then he realized how deep it went, how vitally important it was, how when he tried to give it up, something in him would disconnect, leaving him blank-minded and functionless until he loaded another tape into his old camcorder.

And now here he is, taking walks to take his mind off it. Like it's that simple.

Maybe he does need a hobby.

"I don't..." he admits, haltingly. "I don't know what to even...try."