Michael suppressed a sigh as John hesitated for that brief moment before smiling again. He might not be a disturbed teenager who believed erroneously that he was a super-intelligent robot from the future, but he was still very smart for his age. He noticed things like that, even if he wasn't exceptionally good at body language. That was probably why he had difficulty hiding his own reactions to the idea that John didn't believe him or something of the sort (what had he thought when visited by his own great grandfather, again?), casting a sympathetic, if frustrated, glace at the older man.

But it softened into surprise at John's words, and Michael had to wonder if he'd misread the situation entirely. Again.

"I've missed talking to you as well," he confessed. "It was nice, having someone I could talk to on a level that suited me, even if it wasn't about real situations, but who didn't treat me as though I was strange or like a child. People like you and Tyler, you helped me get to where I am now. I wouldn't be this person without you, John."

He smiled then, a gentle, genuine one that felt new and free somehow. "Thank you. For everything."

There, he'd said the one thing he'd really wanted to when he'd come here to see John again and it hadn't been as bad as the images his mind had conjured up. Michael was still reminding himself of this when John spoke up again, mentioning the... screwdriver...?

"Oh, you mean the toy you were always talking about?" he asked, surprised. It made sense when he thought about it; John, still caught up in the illusions his mind created, wouldn't think of it as a toy at all. "It was just a light and noise effects, wasn't it?"