"I went back to make sure that Shepard wasn't fighting those things all on her own. And I wasn't exactly unarmed."

Neither was Jay, to be fair, but he was acting - erratic. Skittish. Like he was talking to things that weren't there, like he was about to go springing at Tim over nothing. And then he did charge him over nothing, and Tim wasn't willing to take the risk that he was clean.

Paranoid to the point of self-destruction. That's him.

He turns away in his seat, trying to shrug away the memory as it slaps him like a gust of cold air: Shepard, screaming, dying, the stench of ozone mixing with smoke, how it was like seeing her burn -

"Not that it helped."