"What do you mean you can't swim?!"

It was official, Rockgut lived to stalk and embarrass me.

"Exactly what I said. I can't swim. "

"And you thought it was a good idea to jump in, are you insane?"

"It was either jump or have the instructor throw me in. Figured it was better if I made the choice myself so I could at least control where I landed. "

Why am I even explaining myself to him?

I had calculate everything perfectly, landing in a part deep enough not to break any bones upon impact but shallow enough not to drown. The silence seemed to stretch with only the soft scratching noise of my pencil upon paper to fill the air. After another moment, the sound of a chair scrapping across the floor filled my ear- for a brief moment I allowed myself to hope that maybe, just maybe he was finally going to drop it and get off my case.

This Hope was crushed a moment later as I was lifted out of my chair.

"Well then, If you don't' know. Now is as a good time to learn as any."

I won't lie, Rockgut is a Slave Driver or a complete Perfectionist- then again was there honestly a difference?- but if nothing else he managed to obtain results at all cost. Now if only he would stop his 'You don't belong in this line of work' speeches, He might- and I stress the word:

Might- be tolerable enough to be around for more then half an hour.

I take it back.

Rockgut is Intolerable and nothing will ever change that.

I get it, he doesn't like me here but to stage a kidnapping and relocation to a 'safer environment'. If I could I would string him up by his neck for such an attempt. Unfortunately murder is very much frowned upon but as it is, I end up sleeping with one hand under my pillow, tightly around the handle of Father's handgun most nights.

Which reminds me, I need to send a letter for another clip, this one's almost out seeing how three of them ended up in my wall and one of them ended up in a would be kidnapper.

I never actually get a chance to send the letter- the Headmistress must have or my Father was a complete and utter stalker- as the first thing I wake to the next morning is Dylan's overtight grip. It takes me a moment to realize I'm being carried around, but seeing as its only Father I do not anything I suppose I had become rather used to my Father randomly picking me up and carrying me around like a doll whenever it crossed his fancy. Its not like he ever listened when I protested against the action anyways. Might as well just enjoy the moment while saving myself the headache of trying to out argue the stubborn man.

The moment stormy grey eyes noticed I was no longer sleeping a warm smile fount its way to the elder's face, "Good Morning, Nigel. "

It never failed to amaze me how cheerful the man could sound so early in the morning- was it even morning seeing as a brief glimpse through the window showed the stars were still out? Though I couldn't quite manage the man's unnatural cheer -It was far too early to even consider it- I did manage to mumble out a small 'morning' for greeting.

The smile I received in return almost blinded me, "Good news, Lad. Due to the recent 'Security Issues' you get to spend the next week with me."

I swear something about his cheer that just wasn't natural.

There was a difference between knowing someone was supposed to be dangerous and actually witnessing- experiencing- it in person.

In my mind, I knew Dylan was a spy; one of the best in his field. I knew he killed, lied and deceived on a daily basics- one didn't last long in espionage without doing so- Yet at the same time: I didn't.

I suppose in my mind, I was still seeing this world as nothing more than a television show- the background story of a child's cartoon of all things- and not my actual reality. At least, not until I had blood spattered across my face and the man I called 'Father' trying to clean it with a handkerchief as though he didn't just slit a complete strangers throat only moments before.

"Look at you, not a single tear in sight," A fond smile fount its way onto the elder's face, a hint of pride clear in his eyes, "That's my brave Lad. "

I was I could say it was bravery that kept me standing there as silent as the grave, but it wasn't. If anything it was probably shock keeping me froze. After all, I had been talking face to face with the man when his throat had been slit. I was sure I would be suffering nightmares for some time to come though Dylan didn't seem to realize it as he kept smiling as though nothing was wrong; while continuing his efforts of scrubbing the blood off my face.

"I told the Commander you were mature enough for this. You're going to be an excellent Agent when your older Nigel. "

I always knew Uncle Nigel was a Spy, one of the best for the agency, but I never quite knew he had started so young. A part of me couldn't help but ponder what he would have done- Would he have cried? Broken down? Ran for all he was worth? Flinched from Dylan's touch?- had I not been reincarnated into his place within the storyline.

Unfortunately that was one question I would never know the answer to.