Dr. Keane introduced him to Six at one point, a clean-shaven and quiet man in a spotless forest green suit. It was only later that he couldn't pinpoint the moment at which that brief handshake came, because for as long as he could remember the man had been nearby, an entirely natural fixture, hovering inconspicuously within his line of sight almost as often as he saw the doctor.

The moment itself, though; that would always return to him with perfect clarity.

"This is Agent Six."

The man took his hand, gave it a polite, brisk jerk as a greeting, and said, "So you're the kid they found."

"Yeah." Yes, sir came to mind.

Six looked him up and down, expression unreadable behind a sunglass shield. "You got a name?" he said, glancing at his watch.

"He doesn't remember-" Dr. Keane began, but the impulse to tell this man something of his own sprang up, and he'd had this secret to himself for almost a day.

"Yeah, I do," he interrupted. He saw the ruined foundations past Six's knees. "It's Rex. Like a T. Rex." I'm really big and strong.

"G-Rex?" Six said, attention back on him. That was good.

"Like a T-Rex," he said. "But it's just Rex."

"Nice to meet you, Rex," Six said, for the first time smiling professionally. Then it vanished, their meeting was over, the green-clad man exchanged a word with Dr. Keane and he was gone, that handshake lost to time.

"When did you remember your name?" Keane asked him after Six's back had sufficiently retreated. Is your memory back?

He shook his head. "Some guy asked me to sign a form. I was pretending and then it just happened."

"Muscle memory, perhaps," the doctor said aloud. "Or maybe it's not even your real name. Don't get too attached."

But from then on, Keane did call him Rex, he introduced himself, Agent Six occasionally said hello while passing.

He felt kind of like a person for once. Even if the soldiers never spoke to him. Even if he was sleeping alone on a spare pallet between supply crates in the back of an airship because no one could think of anywhere else to put him.

He wasn't an idiot. He could do math. He knew the states, not the capitals, but the states at least. And he knew when he wasn't wanted. But as long as they thought his memory might come back, they'd be stuck with him. He wanted to stay with them, too, because what if he couldn't remember without Dr. Keane's help?

Plus. He didn't have anywhere to go. Not that he knew. But thinking about amnesia was weirder than thinking about how Providence didn't give a crap, so he stuck to that most of the time.

Even if it got really dark and he wanted to go talk to someone, anyone.

But he didn't know anyone.

It stayed dark.

He had a name.