"Jesus," Luke breathes softly, scrubbing a face over his hand before he goes to sit down in the chair across from Derek. Because he is Derek. There's no faking something like that. But he doesn't know how to explain his current state either and he isn't sure what he's supposed to say to Derek himself, how he's going to make any of this make sense.

Because it just simply doesn't.

"I'm Luke," he says, resting his hands on his knees. "And you're in a city called Darrow. You've been here for some time, longer than I have, and you don't... you're not normally the age you are. I know how bizarre that sounds, but I swear I'm telling you the truth." He wishes he could give him something more than that, but Luke is truly baffled.