He's offering to let him - to let him touch him? See if he's real? He can see if he's real. This isn't like a doctor, grabbing him, holding him still, trying to make him listen and sit quietly and do what he's told, like a good boy. He has a hand, extended, and Tim hasn't learned to eschew that kind of contact just yet.

His fingertips brush against the other boy's, snatch back, and then - close gingerly around his hand in earnest.

Real.

He is real.

"...closets?" says Tim. "I haven't, um. I haven't been - inside. They always say to stay where you are. Stay where you are so they can find you and bring you back safe."