"Old man," Doc finishes helpfully. Yes, he's old. He doesn't feel old, or feeble, or forgetful, or any of those things that are promised in the pipeline. He doesn't feel sick. 20-odd years of dealing with tuberculosis has done plenty of damage to his lungs, and he'd been feeling sick as a dog before he made the deal for immortality. Now time is just something passing him by while he figures out what to do with himself and this mess he has made with a baby on the way.

"It was 2017, so I suppose that would make me very old." 166 years, to be precise, even if he spent almost 130 of it at the bottom of a well. He usually plays these cards close to the chest, but he figures, he's seen some of the folks around here do some very strange things. And he likely won't be seeing any of these people in Purgatory once he returns.