"Forever?" Jean-Paul tried, only half-sarcastically. It might've well have been. He'd been through so many different dimensions recently on his search for his sister that his internal clock had already been messed up enough without being stuck in some institution. He set about trying to use his empty bowl to push his ruined (it'd started out ruined, really) food into a less disgusting pile.
"Sorry," he added. "If you're actually trying to eat, I shouldn't let this sit here." He prodded at the jello last. "So..." ah, how to phrase this, "there's nothing... different about you? I mean, I'm just trying to figure out why we ended up here, since we weren't crazy to begin with. And some of the people here seem stranger than usual."
Jean-Paul was being unusually tactful. That was the strangest thing for him so far, though he'd certainly seen a few fellow prisoners he suspected weren't your run-of-the-mill asylum patients, too.