"Uh. Yeah?" That's weird, isn't it? It is. He frowns down at his hand, blinking at the skin tone. "Guess I think of myself as a real boy, huh?"

That should bother him more than it does. But. It doesn't bother him and he's too busy tugging Wash out of this fucked up room and into the hall. Step by step the setting changes- still a hall, still a house but- not Wash's. Something with hardwood floors and vague impressions of portraits on the walls. Somewhere with a back porch open to all the rumbling thunder and rain. "You like thunderstorms, Wash?"