[His fingers scramble for the rabbit's foot so fast he gets dirt under his nails. Jon tangles out the chain from the grass first and Harper snatches it out of his hand. The moment his fingers touch it again, the painful stirring in his gut stops cold. He puts the chain holding the rabbit's foot back around his neck again, his hands shaking.]

Too many rules. This place is weird in all the wrong ways and there are too many rules. It's too...consistent for something my brain would randomly be spewing out from my neurons singing their swan song. And that actually hurt.

[It had hurt too much, too solidly, with the kind of sharp pain you can't feel in dreams. It's not something where maybe his dying self is having his gut pop open and he's feeling it distantly as he dies - Tyr wouldn't let that happen. He'd kill him cleanly before they hatched, and be a good friend in his weird, murderous way.]

And I sure am taking a long freakin' time to fade away.

[Oh God.]

It's real. This is actually real. [He suddenly looks at Jon as if seeing him for the first time, eyes popping open wide.] Which means you're real. I don't know if the superhero part is - you could just be completely delusional, but you're real.

[He pokes Jon's shoulder to test out that hypothesis.]

You're a real little kid.

[A pause, and then he peers around them.]

A real little kid that doesn't seem to have any parents or guardians around.

[Pure raw horror.]

Oh no, that makes me responsible.