Lunch was a lot noisier than breakfast had been. And served almost an hour behind schedule. It had taken that long for what seemed like every kid in the camp to go out into the rain and come back with a handful of the muddiest, ugliest rocks and bring them to Ian – who was obviously the only rock expert in the camp – for his approval. The floor was muddy. Australia's table was muddy. Ian was muddy from having rocks handed to him before he could wave them off. But eventually every kid had found that perfect rock that would eventually become their pet rock and their only salvation from the Wraith.

The rocks – and children – were sent to the bathrooms as they arrived from taking the unacceptable rocks back out to wherever they were found, and the kids washed their hands, and their rocks, then brought them with them to the dining room once more, where they were placed on the table by the kid to dry. When the last kid showed up, Jared and his helpers started serving lunch and Ian breathed an annoyed sigh of relief.

The kids were talking noisily with their counselors and each other about what faces they were going to paint on their rocks, and Gary told Ian and the rest of the staff that they'd intended to do arts and crafts in the gym anyways – to keep the kids indoors while it continued to rain – so after lunch the kids and counselors could head for the gym to paint their rocks.

Ian took his time eating. He had no intention of being in the gym any sooner than necessary, and he was pretty sure the minute he poked his head into the room all the kids were going to be bringing their painted rocks over to him to ask him how they looked or if they were good enough. If he wasn't there – and he wasn't going to be – then the kids could ask their counselors. He'd just make sure to take as much time as possible eating, and then maybe just go to the cabin when he was finished having his sunburn looked at.

"Ian?"

He was pulled form his planning by Sammy, who was still casting glances over to Ian's pet rock, which was sitting by his water glass.

"Yeah?"

"What is your rock's name?"

"What?"

"Your rock? What's its name?"

Ian frowned. He hadn't actually thought it would need a name. Of course, now all the rest of the boys were watching him, waiting to hear what his pet rock was called so that they, too, would know what to name theirs. River had an amused smile on his face that he was doing a shitty job of hiding, and Shawn's brown eyes were just as amused.

"Argus."

"What?"

"Argus," Ian repeated, turning back to his lunch. "That's my rock's name."

"Argus?" Sammy repeated.

"Yup."

"What does that mean?" Wilson asked.

"It doesn't mean anything," Ian said, around a mouthful of bread. "It's just a name."

"Argus?"

The boys were looking spectacularly disappointed. They'd assumed Ian's rock would have a cool name. A powerful name. Something like Bob the Destroyer or Rex the Mighty. Argus was just plain odd. They looked at the rock again.

"It's from Greek mythology," Shawn said to the boys. "Argus was a guardian – a watcher. He's said to have had a hundred eyes so he never missed anything - even when he slept."

Actually, Shawn was impressed that Ian had come up with something like that for a name on such short notice. It was very fitting. Of course, Ian's education was far more complete than Shawn's – he'd been a genius a lot longer, after all.

"Mythology?"

Now Shawn was the one getting the blank looks, which amused Ian to no end.

"It's what they call stories from way back when," Shawn explained.

"Like before dinosaurs?" Bruce asked.

"Not that far back, no."

"Just from a long time ago," River said, trying to pull Shawn out of what was going to end up being a lengthy explanation if he didn't. "There are a ton of stories – really interesting and exciting ones – from that period of time."

"Like what?" Brian asked, interested. He wasn't the only one, either. The rest of the boys were watching River, too.

"I'll tell you some later, if you want. For now, you guys are going to have to start thinking of names for your pet rocks, too."

"I'm going to name mine Argus Junior," Sammy said.

"Me, too!" Chance agreed.

"Me, thr-"

"You can't name them Argus," Ian told them, stopping them before they even got started. That was all he needed.

"Why not?" asked Sammy.

"Because they need to have their own name. They can't all have the same name, for God's sake. Why not just call it A, B or C if you're going to do that?"

"But-"

"Just come up with a name," Ian said. "Something other than Argus."

"How do I do that?"

"Do you have a dog?"

"No."

"A cat? A fish? A hamster? Any pet?"

Ian was starting to get annoyed, Shawn and River could both tell, but he was doing a fair job of controlling that.

"I have a bird."

"Does it have a name?"

"Yes."

"Did you name it?"

"Yes."

"How did you name it?"

"I just thought of a name."

"So do the same with your rock."

Sammy hesitated, looking at the wet, brown rock in front of him.

"I can't call my rock Feathers…"

Shawn snickered, and Ian shot him a look that plainly said to either help or to shut up.

"I didn't say call it the same name, Sammy. Just give it a name. Like you did with your bird. It can be anything."

"But not Argus," Chance reminded him.

All the rest of the boys fell silent, looking at their rocks and obviously trying to come up with a good name. Several of those campers – male and female – who had been close enough to hear the conversation also fell silent as they, too, tried to think of a name for their rocks, and Ian breathed a slight sigh of relief.

He wasn't ever going to have kids. Not in a million fucking years.