Tim doesn't need words to flip Trevor the bird, but there's a wry twist to his lips. He's coming around to how stupid this is, too.

He reaches back to pick up the journal again, pointedly claps it shut, and flips it around to tuck under his arm. Making direct eye contact with Strange the entire time; this is his now. Because fuck you.

And holding the pen between two fingers, he gives both of them a disparaging salute before he walks out first, before he gives in to the urge to hit Strange again anyway.