Jay's eyes widen. Tim just handed this opportunity to him on a golden platter.

Finally, finally, Jay allows himself to drop character.

...Somewhat.

His shoulders slump, and his voice shifts back into its natural range. "Fine. I'm not your Jay."

He keeps his arms wrapped tight around himself, avoids eye contact. He's someone who needs help, Tim. He's harmless. He's sick, by your limited definition.