Tim doesn't know what to do, keeps processing and trying to put why Jason is here together before he can act. Bucky doesn't live far, he must have come from the house--Bucky must have left the house, but there's no sign of a struggle on Jason, no sign that violence drove anyone out.

He's not sure it matters. The sick feeling in his gut, the thing that wants to be anger, doesn't think so. Tim touches Jason's hand again, pulling it away from his face so they can look at each other around the beam. "Come on," he says, lowering himself to sit on the porch's edge and tugging at Jason's hand, "Did he disappear, or did he go somewhere else?"