You know it's a bit sad when a six year old knows words like obdormition, paresthesia, fasciculation, and transient diaphragmatic spasm. Yet has not learned how to multiply or divide.

I could literally tell you each of those medical terms easily because I hear them pretty often coming out of dads mouth when I help him out sometimes.

Obdormition is when you've slept on your arm funny and it's fallen asleep, paresthesia is that pricking, tingling sensation when your arm starts to wake up. Fasciculation is pretty much a fancy word for muscle twitch while transient diaphragmatic spasm is also another meaning of the words, getting your breath knocked out of you.

There are a bunch more words that I know, mostly in English though there are the few that I learned in Spanish from traveling all over the place keeping away from General Ross.

The same General Ross who seems to have it out for me for some reason because whenever he tries to capture dad, he always seems to send a team to try and capture me instead of dad as some sort of leverage.

It also might be because I don't turn into a giant green guy, or maybe it's because I'm young. It's just, you would think the guy would learn after the last time, and the time before that, and the time before that.

What happened last time was that he was chasing me down some alley and seemed to have cornered me, the only thing was that there was a broken window that only a six year old could just fit through and, what do you know, I escaped easily because they had no idea that I would go to the roof and go across to the other building and use that as a way to meet dad up and we disappeared once more.

When we weren't running away from Ross, we either spend it helping the people in villages which mostly happened after we crossed from America to the European area, or dad would teach me things that other kids my age should know like the basic stuff.

I never liked the history or language arts portion I had to learn but dad always made it more interesting than it was before and he understood.

Understood how annoyed I could get when my dyslexia made it hard and made the words on the page spin and somersault and get messed up, understood when I couldn't just sit still and learn like my old teachers made me.

It made it a lot easier, we had small breaks when I could do something that would expunge (thank you dad for those giant words) the feeling of containment and do something that interested me.

There was also times when we would sit on a couch, I would cuddle into his side, and we would watch kiddy movies on a crappy television.

I loved it because it was relaxing and dad didn't have to be scared, panicked, angry, or any other moods. He could just be my relaxed dad that would cuddle me.

I loved him for that.

He tried to make it fun on being on the run, I technically had more chances to explore and learn the world better than other kids and it was exciting to be honest.

When I had questions about Rome or Greece or some other place, dad would somehow get us there and I could ask as many questions as I want and learn them by the locals.

No matter what it was, dad was always there for me and it always made me so happy to have found him that one day, the only goodness that came out of such a terrible day.

"Hey dad?"

"What's wrong?" dad asked his concern showing on his face as he got his bed ready for the night, we were somewhere in Europe in a small village that seemed grateful for his help enough to lend us a hut to sleep in.

"I'm scared." I said and felt dad lift me up on the bed and mostly just help me as I closed my eyes and let the motion of going back and forth calm me.

"What are you scared about?" dad asked still rocking me slightly to help with my nerves.

"I had this dream." I said and turned around so I could bury my head into his chest as the panic I felt earlier was still there trying to claw out of my chest.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Dad asked as flashing of the New York I once knew was in ruins, concrete were all through the city, cars destroyed and buildings falling apart as things zoomed above me. I couldn't tell what they were, never getting a glance but all I heard was the sound of something shrieking and rebelling.

"Not really." I said softly and clung to dad as the familiar sound of the Hulk echoed and made me lose some of my tenseness.

"Okay." Dad replied and started to hum softly, I let out a sigh and pushed the dream to the back of my mind.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" I asked my voice sounding very low to almost the point of a whisper.

"Sure." Dad said as we carefully untangled and he propped himself against the wall so I had enough room.

"Thanks." I slowly got onto the bed and laid on dads arms as my pillow and felt him slide the blanket to cover us both.

"Love you." He said kissing my forehead lightly.

"Love you too dad." I said and somehow fell asleep a smile dancing on my face.