David wasn't sure where he stood on everyone being some level of crazy. Being surrounded by those with deep psychological issues and mental illness, on top of having his own (or so he'd thought), his perspective was likely skewed -- what must be a 'normal' level for most seemed like basic human nature to David. Some people had a proclivity for being cruel, some people were quirky, others got depressed because of the weather. Humanity was definitely a universal condition.
But he'd dove in wholly and completely to therapy, finding good doctors that had helped him a great deal when he was on a good streak. What happened to Dr. Poole, what he did to Dr. Poole still unsettled him, seeing as how the guy was the best psychiatrist David ever had in his life. Shame there wasn't a Dr. Poole equivalent here -- someone who understood that superpowers weren't a delusion and could help him with everything else in his head before it festered into some new mental illness.
He was trying though, he was. Letting himself feel things, letting the important things out as best he could. "Yeah, they really should have," David commented idly, angrily, shaking his head. It was clear now that Clockworks was now partially owned by Division 3, that someone somewhere, combined with doctors voicing disapproval, made sure he stayed put. Seeing his father wasting away would due irreparable damage, going to a funeral would make him even more unstable, blah blah blah.
"They deserved gold medals for what they put up with," he said with a soft chuckle. He'd been tempted to say they deserved better, but that... wasn't constructive. His parents had done the best they could and David knew he rewarded them poorly -- he hoped to change that now that his mind was his own. Oliver's New Zealand accent chiming from the coffee machine being the perfect reminder of how he could make the world a better place in their honor: saving him and finally putting an end to the Shadow King. Somehow.
As for his dreams, David looked at Syd an expression that mirrored exactly what she thought -- a thought he didn't need to read. The blatant expression of 'are you sure you want to know?' was clearly writ on his face. "Rain-check on that one," he offered as a compromise. If she really did want to know, he'd try his best to explain. For now: where.
Now she was the one reading his mind, offering to come with without him asking. That had him smiling at her with the utmost fondness and appreciation. "They're buried in Plattsburgh in northern New York." As a family they had lived farther west, but David had no intention of going near that house for a good, long while now. Looking to the coffee though, he couldn't help but tip his head and wonder. "Wonder how well I'll do teleporting us and coffee..." Because he had no intention wasting time driving, thank you.