Jake was shaking a little when he sat again, and it took a minute to breathe out the immediate panic. He was reading far too much into everything. Everything he possibly could. He made a mental note to kick Tim's ass when he met up with him after this was over. He was the one that put the nervousness into Jake as they approached their destination, and more than once Jake had almost told him to turn the car around immediately, just go back, go back right now and he'd live with Tim, split the rent, take the slow, steady way to his hopes. But of course his pride had overridden his fear. He wanted to do this. If only to prove Tim wrong.

But now he was debating the sanity of all this. He pulled his cheap cell phone out of his bag and flipped it open, shocked---and somewhat dismayed---to find it had no signal here. What did that tell him? That he was too far away from anyone to call at a moment's notice. And so Tim was definitely out of reach. He sighed shakily, putting the phone back in his bag and glancing at the window. Something moved, and he startled, going still. "Um... hello...?" He called, shocked and horrified to hear his voice so unsteady and hoarse. He stepped to the window, looking out, seeing only the outside, the yard and the woods. He wanted to go out, cool down a little. He didn't know why he didn't sweat buckets, but he didn't sweat more than the usual human, so his doctors said.

He turned, feeling his heart pound his sternum, and leaned against the window, gasping at the cool glass that met his back and humming to himself. That helped him feel less horrified with his surroundings, at least. He felt tired, even though it was afternoon. He didn't really sleep during the day, not until it was evening. He closed his eyes, feeling a bit at a loss. What was he allowed to do? Did this guy have a list of rules set up on a chalkboard or something? He snorted, shaking his head.