"Autistic? What does that mean?" There were a great many times he wished that he could access more of Jonathan's brain than the scrambled remanence of a once brilliant mind. Aside from the occasional aid at his work the social cues and interpretations would have been invaluable. He had little to no frame of reference for anything in regular conversation, isolating him even further even if in the end it was best he remain solitary. It was only thanks to the internet that he was able to create any semblance of a decent chemistry lecture for his different classes four times a week. "I have difficulty with motor control sometimes," he admitted. "I had a head injury but I am getting better."
It had been one hell of an injury as well, the eye stuck on the end of the spear when he pulled the man's body from the statue, blood rolling from the empty socket. It had taken him a long time to clean it all up and to put the eye back in once he repaired it. How the body had survived at all was something to marvel at.
He didn't understand the human impulse to make words easier to tolerate, then again he had difficulty with subtext and some forms of humor. But he had no answer for the man so said nothing in response to his question. "I was different, I was not able to play." he answered the last question somewhat truthfully. He technically had not been born a child, he did not grow or change but he had been able to learn which put him on the path to being where he was now.