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Jay Merrick didn't have a grave. Tim would've buried him himself if he had to but, most importantly, Jay Merrick didn't have a body. In some ways that just made it worse. How was Tim supposed to find a way to move on or whatever the fuck if he was always second guessing the fact he was even dead in the first place?
Besides, Tim didn't wanna move on. He didn't wanna get better or be at peace with himself because, guess what? He deserved it. Every last bitter thought and ounce of despair he could feel was deserved. He had killed him. He was gone from the world- hadn't passed on to some better place, or gone into the fucking skies or the stars or any of that bullshit. No body, nothing. And it was all Tim's fault. Left with no real way to prove he had ever existed in the first place- all that was left of him was what was on those goddamn tapes . A ghost, but not even that. Just like a distant memory or something out of the corner of your eye.
Even Tim could feel him slipping away from him. What did he sound like? What did he look like? What would he fucking think of this ? He'd be disgusted. Tim knew he was never much of a person to begin with, but this? He didn't even feel like he was alive anymore. Which made it so much more fucking hilarious considering he was the only one who still was.
And what even gave him the right to care so much about this in the first place, huh? Tim was the one who couldn't protect him well enough, couldn't protect any of them well enough. So what gave him the right to miss them, to mourn them? This was his doing. All of it, right from the start. He was just as responsible as Alex, or that fucking thing. If they hadn't known him then they'd still be alive - he'd still be alive.
But he couldn't help it. Trying to just live seemed impossible and with every second it felt more and more real. Everything, everyone was gone. All his friends, his best friend, the man he was fucking in love with (because, yeah, he could admit that now it was too late) were gone.
And, see, he didn't care if it hurt him . He wanted it to hurt him, every single ounce of it. But the thing was, the icing on the fucking cake, was the fact that none of them were ever gonna get to live another day. The people he loved would never get a chance to be happy again, or even to just… be. They were all more deserving of living than he was, so why was he left behind? But he knew the answer to that question. He was left to suffer. He wasn't gonna get off that easy, it just wouldn't do that. He was stuck in his own personal hell, and it was exactly what he deserved.