Getting to the Aquarium hadn't been so bad. They'd talked intermittently about nothing important, and nothing particular. Alex asked general questions about how Brody had been, they even talked about school more (though Alex seemed no closer to committing than he had before), and nothing of which hinged on the subject of Anson...

Or why Alex wanted to get out and talk to Brody. Still, they were standing in front of a tank, Alex marveling at the sight in the same blase why he took in all modern wonders. The novelty of the world in the middle of the day was slowly wearing thin, though, replaced with a mild longer for his home (and in the age he was born to) and a blank numbness that came with the inablity to take care of himself, or so it seemed. There was little hiding the fact that his clothing had not been a carefully tended to, or that his hair wasn't brushed to a barely presentable level...or even that he hadn't eaten normally in some time. Everything about Alex screamed something was wrong, but in the same manner as Percy- Alex said little to nothing about that haunted him. The act of sharing was not as easy at people seemed to think. And there wasn't really anything he had to hide, was there?

Well...beyond his own hypocritical transgressions he supposed.

He shoved his hands into his pockets before he turned and limped on, his leg out of the cast, but moving no better for it. The limp would probably be with him for the rest of his life, though. Along with cut and scars. Along with one scar in particular.

"Why do they have so many fish?"