Jo wondered then if he knew about her mother and the circumstances of her death. It was a conversation she'd never brought up with him, but one she now wished she had had for she could then explain how she related to his feelings. Not exactly, of course, but that wondering. That discovery of something new.

And then, Alfred repeated himself for the third time, immediately stopping every thought Jo had about discussing dead parents.

It was so abrupt and such a drastic change in conversation that she couldn't justify it to small talk this time. Alfred was repeating himself like the past few minutes hadn't happened. (Was this what it was like to hallucinate? Had she finally succumbed to sleep and decided to dream of this instead of the attack on the river?) Jo's eyes widened slightly in alarm, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Was anyone else experiencing this? Everyone around them looked normal, but so did Alfred and he was obviously not.

"Of course. Being useful helps provide a sense of purpose." Jo answered almost automatically if only to give herself a few more seconds to think. "It was fortunate that you had already put your ship in the water."

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