[Peter Michael Hanes]

Whatever he did...
You Can't Prove A Thing!

Peter scowled, walking with deliberate slowness. Of course, the day he actually showed up, he was called into the office. Of course now, before he got there, he hd to figure out what he did and how to respond to accusations. The things was, he was absent from school so often lately that he couldn't think of anything he did. Then again, mybe it was his absence from school that was bothering them. So, Peter Hanes was walking down to the Headmaster's Office with a huge sense of rebellion brewing in his stomach. When his teacher had first gotten his attention to tell him he was wanted in the Headmaster's Office, the boy had thought to escape. Saddly, the window was shut. Still, It would have been fun to break the glass and jump out.

Knowing Peter he would have screamed something along the lines of 'He can't accuse me if he can't catch me!' and took off. So what if he had been on the second floor at the moment? He would have made it, having already jumped out of his Wendy's two story window. Of course, the police would have caught him a few days later, sleeping in a hollow tree t the Secret Gardens. He'd be given a lecture, promise to be good, and then do something else a few weeks later. No doubt about it, this town was not big enough to cotain Peter Hanes. Not even the town jail was big enough to hold Peter Hanes.

And so the young man- ugh he shuddered at the word- found himself outside of Headmaster Kaine's office wondering whether or not he should run for it now. His clothes and hair were wet, providing the evidence as to where he'd been the first three classes of the day, on the roof, smoking a cigarette. Then he thought of something, this could be fun. Maybe Mr. Kaine would just figure out how hopeless it was to try and teach him then throw him out of school. Now that, would be a relief. A boyish smirk on his wet face, Peter pushed open the door with a sense of pride and walked in.

He didn't feel the need to ask the old cliche question, 'You asked for me?' Instead he, sat sideways in the chair, lettinf his back rest against the right arm and his legs hang off the left. Then, he looked at the Headmaster out of the corner of his eye. "Whatever it is, I swear I didn't do it." he said. Then, pausing for a minute his smile grew. "Unless this is about me being the one who stole that kids change of clothes after gym class. All the evidence is circumstantial and I've been instructed not to talk by my lawyers." By evidence, he meant Mrs. Farrow catching him putting the clothes in the display case by the cafeteria and, by lawyers, he meant Mrs. Page. Or Wendy, as he prefered to call his on again off again girlfriend. At the moment, he was happy their relationship resided in the on section.

[Oliver Lukas Kaine]

this is the rescue, the rescue
THE REASON I'VE BEEN HOLDING MY BREATH EVERY NIGHT
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

If there was one thing that Oliver Kaine hated about his job, it would be paperwork. There was the act of doing paperwork, simply because it took up most of his day. When he had started the school, he didn't think it would take so many forms to run it. There were forms for everything. There were forms for student truancy. There were forms for field trips. There were forms for getting forms for getting permission slips for field trips. And if doing paperwork wasn't enough, dealing with it later was. That was especially considering the file on his desk.

The personal file of one Peter Michael Hanes wasn't the largest Oliver had ever seen, mostly because had seen many behaviorally challenged hormonal children with magical powers pass through the walls of his school and having the largest file of them all would have been quite the accomplishment. No it wasn't the largest, but the fact that it was as thick as a good-sized encyclopedia with a foreword and extensive author's note detailing every step that it took to publish the encyclopedia in detail, made it pretty damn close. Most of them were absence and truancy sheets, but there were a few unique things in the file.

There was the eighteen page distraught and vaguely threatening letter from the mundy substitute who had taken Isadora's classes while she was handling his position for the week or so Oliver was recovering from a nasty bout of the flu, reprimanding Oliver for having such badly behaved students, most notably Mr. Hanes. Later it was figured out that the substitute was a compulsive liar who wasn't certified to be a substitute teacher, and that Mr. Hanes hadn't attended school for most of that week. It was things like that that made Oliver regret the fact that, as Grimmtown wasn't technically supposed to exist and the school was supposed to stay low-key as a result, extensive background checks on substitute teachers weren't exactly always possible. The whole thing had been cleared up and pretty much forgotten (meaning that the 'substitute teacher' had been handed over to Judge Cole and Sheriff Bigby and had 'ran away and never came back' Oliver liked to think that the phrase didn't mean what it did in the Homelands which was 'eaten,') but the letter still added a good deal of bulk to the folder.

Oliver still managed to smile as Peter made his way in. He had always been...interesting, even back in the Homelands when his exposure to him was limited to his (and, on occasion, Ms. Wendy Darling's) dreams. "Hello Mr. Hanes. Would you like a lemon drop?" Oliver greeted pleasantly, gesturing towards the bowl of candies on his desk and dropping Peter's file in a drawer with a loud thunk. He was deliberately ignoring Peter's own greeting, as the other student in question had given him quite a headache over the incident. The boy hadn't been angry at Peter, far from it, but he had reminded Oliver of quite a few...traumatizing dreams he had delivered. Of course, it hadn't been the student they were traumatizing for.

Headaches and trauma aside, that was actually the incident that had convinced Oliver to give Peter an O.I.S. well, that, and Isadora telling him to. "Let's get straight to the point, I know you don't want to be here any longer then you need to." Oliver's voice was calm, but direct. This wasn't Lillian or Cally he was dealing with. This was Peter Hanes, and the easiest way to deal with Lillian Page wasn't the best way to deal with Peter Hanes (though actually, the easiest way to deal with both of them was each other, but using Lillian as leverage wasn't in Oliver's nature.) "Your disciplinary folder takes up half of my 'H' drawer."

'CAUSE THIS WAS JUST A MESS WE COULD NEVER REALLY HIDE
and now i'm paying for all the mistakes that you've made

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[Peter Michael Hanes]

Whatever he did...
You Can't Prove A Thing!

The guy was smiling. That was new. Most of the time, when any adult talked to him, it was with a scowl or they weren't talking at all. they were yelling. So Peter found himself a little more relaxed than he had been. If, of course, that was at all possible. As the man gestured to the candy's Peter shrugged, wincing slightly at the 'Mr'. "I've always liked Honeysuckle and Wild Berries more than candy Headmaster. They're healthier and I got used to them." he said, gesturing to his lean figure. Of course he'd gotten used to them, living in Neverland of course. He'd go so far as to say he hated candy but, Peter was still a teenage boy. In other words, candy was a physical need at times. Still, he didn't think he could face Mrs. Pepper without getting into some kind of fight.

He turned to sit in the chair the right way as Oliver addressed him. "You're right, I don't enjoy beating around the bush but, I do enjoy spending time here. Your office is a lot drier than the roof." he said, pointing to his hair. It wasn't drying like the rest of his clothes. In fact, it still dripped a little water down his face. But, again, Peter'd spent so much time in Never land he had a high immune system. He rarely worried about getting colds anymore. And when he did, he didn't need Wendy to shove medicine down his throat anymore. Peter laughed at his own little thought and at the Headmster's comment too. He looked down at the file on the desk, not the lest bit surprised it was that big. Peter wasn't surprised it was a little bigger either.

He'd spent most of his time in school trying to destroy the delicate social status in school. Sometimes, he wasn't caught. If he got caught every time he did something, that folder would be much thicker. "The 'H' drawer, huh? My dicipilinary folder? Bigby did tell me that mundy substitute left a report about me last time he took me to city hall." he chuckled. Of course, the last time he and the Good Sheriff met he had been caught with a beer. Peter wasn't even eighteen yet but, it didn't mtter to him. That was one of the things in the new world he liked. There was still thrill, even if it came from a few Earth-bound illegal activities.

Then his brow furrowed. "But I don't think I actually did anything to that teacher. I was gone four out of five days that week and on the day I was here, I wasn't even in his class." he said. Peter looked at Mr. Kaine, hoping for a little more amusement. Then he sighed, a smile still on his face. He folded his hands over his stomach and crossed his legs in an attempt to look a little more professional. He wasn't mocking the man, Wendy liked him too much for Peter to do that, but he did want to see what a little toeing the line would do. "With all due respect, I'm sorry I don't go to classes. But if any teachers actually paid attention, I'm not absent. I go to school about every day. I just spend most of that day outside the building. Classrooms are too enclosed." he siad shrugging. Of course, it made perfect sense to him.

The only reason Peter really came to school anymore was to talk to kids. Hell, he didn't even remember when he was supposed ot be in what class most items. The boy frowned, wondering about that. Maybe he should pay a little more attention to studying but, why would he need to when... "I don't think I need schoo, Mr. Kaine. All I need to know is how to get bck to the second star to the right. Then I'll be out of all of your hair." he said. Peter paused then, a smile brightening his features again. "At least until I come back to see Wendy if she doesn't want to come with me."

Thinking about it, Peter knew people wouldn't agree with his ideas. To them, Neverland was what quite a few people called it. 'Childish nonsense' they said but, to him, it was home. Grimmtown was not his real home. What he knew was that, he simply gave an exaggerated shrug at the idea that he might not get bck. Of course he might not get back in time. Then he would simply just keep causing more trouble for poor Grimmtown. "So, you just want to talk to me about my grades and absence? he asked, hoping he could go and get back to the nice sidewalk behind Miss Page's house. Then again, he kind of liked Mr. Kaine. Maybe he could sit around and talk for a while, if only to humor him. The guy seemed worried.

[Oliver Lukas Kaine]

this is the rescue, the rescue
THE REASON I'VE BEEN HOLDING MY BREATH EVERY NIGHT
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Oliver almost chuckled. Out of all his students, it seemed Peter was one of the few who hadn't accepted living in the New World as a permanent adjustment. While there were many Fables who would have loved returning to the Homelands (though Oliver doubted they would ever reach their former glory) most had accepted that they would have to live here for the time being. Oliver himself didn't care either way, Dream Lord or no, he liked his life here, and there wasn't much point in staying in the Homelands if...if he didn't have...well, there wasn't much of a point.

Peter, however, was a different case. He was determined to just coast through life until he found his way back to Neverland. Oliver didn't blame him, Peter was young, eternally young, and coasting through life was something that young people were allowed to do, at least in his opinion. And while Oliver was optimistic that someone would find a way back to the Homelands (no matter what the signs said, there were no one-way streets) Oliver was still worried about Peter. This was mostly because that not only would Peter return to a war-torn Homelands and a probably damaged Neverland, he would most likely have to do it alone. From what he saw of them, Ms. Polaris and Ms. Page had adjusted, and weren't particularly looking to leave anytime soon. Even Mr. Black was settled in here in the New World. And with the Lost Boys gone, (Oliver felt a stab in his chest at this thought, as he always did when he thought of children he hadn't been able to save) there really wasn't anyone for Peter to go back to Neverland with.

Though that was in the future. if it happened at all. This was the present, and at the moment Peter was sitting in his office, somewhat wet, and racking up so many absences that he was dangerously close to failing high school. Considering this was a town where most of the citizens didn't have much of an education before the New World and the ones that did were royals and only had whatever their kingdoms provided them, that wasn't saying much. But still, when a student flunked out, dropped out or just stopped learning, that was when Oliver felt like he failed. And Oliver wasn't about to have another Matthew Minor (happily coasting through life as Mr. Minor was) on his hands.

"Is that so?" Oliver chuckled a little, amused. "Well, I would like to think so, but you would have to thank cleaning staff for that." So he spent his time on the roof, then? Oliver had suspected, but he wasn't sure, and he didn't exactly have the time to stroll up to there during school hours anyways. Though he would've probably found Peter, he'd have to send him back to class and Oliver doubted that he would like him any more after that.

"I know." Oliver explained simply. Had anyone ever gotten around to explaining the details of that event to Peter? Hm. Evidently not. "It was an unfortunate incident that has been taken care of. No need to worry about it now." Oliver waved it off and patted the folder. He may not have known exactly how the issue had been resolved, but he trusted Sheriff Bigby and Judge Cole, even if the Mundy had ended up eaten (which Oliver doubted had actually happened, but had too much experience with Fables to discredit as a possibility.)

"I don't doubt you'll find a way back eventually." Oliver just nodded and told the truth, he didn't doubt that there would be some way back at one point of another. "But until then we're all stuck here. You might as well spend some of that time in class. I can't get the teachers to change their lesson plans very much, but a lot of what they have to say can be interesting. Besides, none of your regular teachers exactly dislike you, they're willing to give you a chance if you do the same." It wasn't exactly the most motivational advice he had ever given to a student, but unless Peter left in the middle of the meeting, they had some time, especially since Peter didn't look like he was that adverse to staying and Oliver could talk to him a little more.

"Officially, yes, that's what were supposed to be talking about." Oliver shrugged admittedly. "But as long as we have the time, I wouldn't say no to a little conversation. Though I'm sure you wouldn't want to sit around talking to a stuffy old headmaster like me."

'CAUSE THIS WAS JUST A MESS WE COULD NEVER REALLY HIDE
and now i'm paying for all the mistakes that you've made

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[Peter Michael Hanes]

Whatever he did...
You Can't Prove A Thing!

He liked Mr. Kaine. Peter decided that rather suddenly, upon seeing his laugh. He wasn't one of those teachers who stared at him like an explosion waiting to happen or a parasite they wished to be rid of. Peter might actually like school if he didn't have to go to it. It was truancy that he didn't and, he didn't think it should be a law for children to have to go to school. As much as some enjoyed it, he personally thought that real world expierience was what really helped everyone. He wasn't about to voice that opinion though. He knew his boundries and, he couldn't give away all of his ideas to adults. Doing that was asking for them to be handed back in pieces.

Peter thought about that for a moment and then, his grin broadened. "I will. The cleaning crew deserves something." he said. The boy wouldn't say what he was going to do, just that he was going to do something. Personally, he had a few favors that could be called in and Peter knew, given enough time, he would be able to figure out something to do. Broad owed him for taking the rap with the police a few weeks back and he knew he could get Wendy to help him out a little, if she thought it was helping the school. An idea sparked in his mind and he almost laughed. "And Miss Farrow deserves to have one of her detentions served." he said. Cleaning the hallways it was. He could find some other way for Broad to pay him back.

He shrugged his shoulders, not really bothered by the idea. His file never bothered him and neither did the fact that an unfit teacher had written a letter about him to the school. Peter could really care less about those things. What he needed was to figure out how to get back to Neverland before he turned eighteen. Or else... he didn't want to think like that. But he let out a murmur almost unconciously. "It'll be too late." then, the boy shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. Oliver's next words surprised him.

So he didn't think that Peter was just some hopeless dreamer after all. "I hope so. But I need to get back soon or... or... Neverland won't ever wake up." he said, knowing full well that he didn't have to explain himself. It was explained in his story, one of the few books Peter had read. Neverland basically came into the fullest of life with Peter around. He wanted to know what had become of it. If he could just visit one last time, that would be good enough for him. He snapepd out of his thoughts by listening to the headmaster. "I trust the teachers here, even the ones I could say I don't exactly like. I just... I can't stay in the same building all day. It's kills my self esteem. I was about ready to go jum out a window when I ws called down here." he said.

Peter thought for a minute, realizing he didn't want to return to a classroom. Something Delilah had said came back to him. "One, you're not old or stuffy. I've met much worse than what you know." he said. Then he moved on, without further ado. Peter enjoyed talking. "What you know... You're the Sandman right? I read the story somewhere with Wendy. In my curiosity, are you the guy responsible for that nightmare I had back in Neverland? The one where I came back to the Darling house. Where the windows were shut and the house was empty?" he asked. Peter wasn't looking for blame, he just wanted to know if it was true or not. "I'm not angry I just want to know. It was right before we took Wendy and her brothers back home. It kind of helped me realize that I was supposed to let her go back or it would be... to late."

[Oliver Lukas Kaine]

this is the rescue, the rescue
THE REASON I'VE BEEN HOLDING MY BREATH EVERY NIGHT
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There always came a time in most every student's education at his school that Oliver could find himself proud of them. For Peter, this was most definitely one of those moments. Oliver had, as a teacher and as the Dream Lord, tried to teach children the importance of charity work. Sure, Peter was doing it, at least in part, to serve one of his punishments, but he technically didn't have to do so. Oliver beamed at Peter just a little, in a strange mixture of amusement and pride. Trust Peter to find an unconventional, but still valid way of serving his punishments. He wasn't exactly sure how many detentions Peter needed to serve, detentions had always been Isadora's area of authority, though Oliver could have easily checked Peter's large folder. "I'm sure you're planning something, but I suppose I'll find out soon enough." Oliver told Peter truthfully. Even if he was planning something, it didn't seem like it would be a problem, quite the opposite actually, so he didn't have to do anything. And if him not knowing anything meant Peter had the more freedom to do whatever it was he was planning, well, Oliver certainly wouldn't object. He wouldn't know anything, after all.

"It is sometimes a mistake to climb, it is always a mistake to never even make the attempt." Oliver quoted. That particular quote was the coincidental thought of a writer who had picked it up, quite incidentally, as such things were apt to do, and a paraphrasing of something Oliver had heard once himself, in a dream. Not his, but another's. Or perhaps, it wasn't a dream. Had his brother told him that? Oliver thought he might prefer it if he had."Keep trying Peter, or too late will become not at all. I know you'll make it."

Oliver's eyes darkened at Peter's next words. Not in anger, but in remembrance. Oh yes, he remembered that particular nightmare well enough. It was famous after all. He had seen it, after all, not only in the stories, but in his own domain, the metaphysical land that was the Dreaming. Oliver suspected that it was untouched by the Adversary, considering that even when asleep, most beings only touched the fringes of his realm. Only those like he and his brother, forces and representations of the unknown could step foot in it freely, and last time he had checked, the Adversary had none of those under it's control.

"I suppose you could say I was responsible for it," Oliver finally said, his voice and his eyes faraway, back in the Dreaming, where he still had all his powers. "I supplied the sand that wrote the story. But the rest of it is up to the dreamer. Dreams are hopes and echoes of hopes." Oliver glanced at Peter and sent him a smile. "If there hadn't been something in your subconscious for the sand to work on, you wouldn't have had that nightmare. It was your mind, not mine, that created that dream."

'CAUSE THIS WAS JUST A MESS WE COULD NEVER REALLY HIDE
and now i'm paying for all the mistakes that you've made

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[Peter Michael Hanes]

Whatever he did...
You Can't Prove A Thing!

Peter smiled happily. Oh, he would figure something out. He always had ideas, knowing Peter, he was already forming a plan. Clean the hallways, of course, but he would be creative. He always had an idea and suddenly the steamcleaner he'd seen seemed very tempting. Very, very tempting. His smile turned to a smirk as he thought about it. Could you ride on a steamcleaner?

He sighed. They just didn't understand him completely. They never would, though he was sure Mr. Kaine was probably close to being neck and neck with Wendy. Nobody but her... She was the only one who had glimpsed the world he lived in. the world and state of perpetual bliss. Only she could come close to him like that. But Mr. Kaine came pretty close, he had to admit. So, if it made him happy, "I'll try. But I'm not going to promise it. Classrooms are... too weird. I can't understand them. I only know I'll try." he said, nodding his head happily. As usual, nothing put a dapper on Peter's mood.

He stayed quiet, listening to Mr. Kaine. Not everything was clear. But he understood what he was trying to tell him. Peter's face twisted into seriousness, an unusual epression for the boy. Very few people had seen his face look like that. Wendy was amongst those few. "It's different, knowing that. So... it wasn't just you. It was me?" he asked, still kind of confused. Peter didn't use the big words he was using, like 'subconscious.' That was so wierd. "This place, this school... the only reason I can stay here anymore is because of We... because of Delilah." he said. He was trying to make sense of what he'd been told. "I think that's what it means. She keeps me grounded." he said, laughing.

She did keep his feet on the ground. But it didn't feel like she weighed him down. More like it was holding him and his body just didn't have the strength to leave her. He couldn't leave her. "You're a cool guy Mr. Kaine. Don't let anyone tell you something else." he said, smiling. It was true enough. Mr. Kaine didn't need to feel old. He was actually a better man than Peter had expected. To his surprise, he had a thought that was very confusing to him. Mr. Kaine was the kind of man he wouldn't mind growing up to be. He was the good kind of guy. "That's odd." he said, taking a minute to realize he'd said it alound.

[Oliver Lukas Kaine]

this is the rescue, the rescue
THE REASON I'VE BEEN HOLDING MY BREATH EVERY NIGHT
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Oliver peered curiously over at Peter. Whatever he was planning, it certainly wouldn't be boring, that much was for sure. Inwardly, Oliver hoped it wouldn't be too much of a hassle, though he probably would be willing to put up with a little extra paperwork if whatever Peter was planning produced a good enough story. It wasn't like Oliver had much of a life anyways, and new, good stories were always interesting, especially if Oliver got the chance to tell them. He got precious little of that done lately, despite his title as a storyteller which, recently, had been eclipsed by the duties of his another of his titles, and the more urgent here in the New World, of headmaster.

Peter's next words surprised him, just a little. That was a lot more then what Oliver had expected to come out of this, but still, he mused, a light smile on his face, it was a good thing, and the teachers would be pleased. He was pleased, of course, but he was very rarely displeased in his students, after all. "That's all I can ask of you, then. I'm glad to hear it," And there came the pride again. This was why he loved children. Adults were always much less sincere.

"Yes, it was you," Oliver agreed nodding, for that was, in simple terms, what he had gathered during the years, the centuries, he had been working with dreams and the sand. "Your mind and your hopes. Think of it like this. Dreams are like a blank canvas. My sand is the paint, and your mind is the painter. Does that make more sense?" It was a lot more complicated then that, especially when Oliver was actively involved in the process rather then throwing the sand in the air and telling it to go make nightmares (or dreams, as the situation called for it.)

Oliver thought for a moment, before he realized his next response didn't need much thought. "Well, the school will be here, if you need it. So will I." He wasn't sure if the rules of the universe would allow him, but if they did, and even if they didn't, Oliver didn't see anything holding him back to the Homelands with...with his brother gone. The Dreaming could run on its own, and all Oliver needed to do was stay alive for it to remain so. The Fables here in the New World needed him here in the meantime.

"Well, thank you very much. I'll keep that in mind." Oliver said, sincerely, though he was a little taken aback. Peter thought he was cool? He didn't feel cool. Wasn't he too old to be cool. Still, it was nice. It was quite refreshing, actually. "Hm? What's odd then?" Oliver asked, a little curious. Though he was fairly sure Peter hadn't meant to say it, it couldn't hurt to ask. If he didn't want to answer, that was fine with Oliver. It could have been any number of things after all, though he supposed the two of them probably had different definitions of 'odd' to draw conclusions from, considering how much Oliver had seen and that a lot of it had been in dreams, which weren't exactly normal, so his was most likely very skewed. He was still marveling a little at being called cool, after all.

'CAUSE THIS WAS JUST A MESS WE COULD NEVER REALLY HIDE
and now i'm paying for all the mistakes that you've made

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[Peter Michael Hanes]

Whatever he did...
You Can't Prove A Thing!

The blonde boy shifted uncomfortably under that gaze. He was completely unnerved by the way Oliver Kaine was staring at him. He was smiling, yeah, but it was still creeping the poor boy out. As it was, he had sank back into the chair and uncrossed his legs. What the hell was going on? At first he was a little happy that one of the teachers here didn't think he was a complete washout but, the way he was looking at him now, made Peter feel like the dog that had just done a trick right for the first time. Not in a bad way but, it was still kind of freaking him out. Big time. He couldn't help himself, he gave a nervous laugh. Was it plain nervousness that made him feel like Mr. Kaine was staring? After an internal debate, he realized it was. He had said he was going to school. What had he just signed up for?

He was obviously grateul for the subject change. Now that made so much more sense than the 'subconscious' word. "Yeah. That sounds... more understandable." he said, struggling for the right words. That dream brought back memories, not all of them good but, it brought back memories. Suddenly eter thought of something and laughed. "I was never good at painting. Every time I tried I ended up getting in a paint fight with the twins." he remembered. After the third time they had just completely given up trying to paint and just decided to play fight with their paint or berries instead. It ended up making one section of the Neverland forest look like a paintball field. They couldn't help it, they were children. Children made a mess of things, that was the way it went. At least, that's how it was in Neverland.

"Uhh... thanks? I'm sorry, I don't know what I can do with school besides get a job... get older... g-grow up." he managed, somewhat choking out the last words. It didn't seem possible but, somehow thinking about it had actually cause dhim physical pain. What would that be like. The unknown was so frightening he could hardly bare it on his shoulders. He had to get back fast. His birthday was in August. He had little under a year left. That was enough time, right? He had to find some way to make it back or else... he didn't even want to think about it. Wendy was here, and that wsa tempting on it's own, but he didn't know how he could live without Neverland for very lone.

Peter looked up, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Then he realized he'd said it out loud and laughed again. What a stupid thing to do. "I don't know. I had a really wierd idea. About getting older." he said, nodding. Then, almost autpmatically, he said what he was thinking. "What's it like? Growing up, I mean?" he asked without a second of hesitation. Then he sat back, his eyes wide. Where had that come from? He had no clue and he didn't want to ask. Sometimes, though, he was curious. He just braced himself for whatever came at him.