(Untitled)

[argyle_princess]

Hannah thinks that Brennan is right about most things, and Hannah knows she's right about needing to eat and sleep and so on.

So Hannah eats. All right, Hannah mostly pushes soup around the bowl with her spoon, but she eats at least a third of it, and in her defense, it is a very large bowl

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[dr_temperance]

And, true to her word, Brennan is right there.

She had managed to doze off for a while herself, sitting up in the chair. When she had asked Bar for supplies necessary for the care and feeding of an exhausted and distressed teenager, she had also requested a book for herself so that she would have something to occupy her mind other than worry while Hannah slept.

It had turned out to be Alternate Realities for Dummies: Explaining Magic to the Hopelessly Rational. It had read like the diary of an unhinged theoretical physicist and hadn't held her attention at all. And it gets kicked, unnoticed, under the bed as Brennan gets up.

"Hannah? It's okay. You're fine."

[argyle_princess]

Hannah stares for a moment, in utter confusion, no idea where she is or why.

And then it all comes back, the pieces fitting themselves together into one very large and ugly picture.

She shakes her head. "No, I'm really not fine," she says. "Objectively, you know. I think this might be as far from fine as I've ever been."

[dr_temperance]

Brennan is unsure what to say.

Platitudes are useless, and she's not very good at delivering them anyway.

She sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

The explanation Hannah had given her out by the lake had been direct, but not terribly informative.

[argyle_princess]

"Sort of," says Hannah. "I . . . I don't really know. I mean, I do, but there was a whole lot of information and not a lot of time to take it in, and some rather gaping holes and . . .

". . . and Henry is in hell. Literally. Or, rather, he's in a place that is 'as close to hell as anything I care to consider.'"

She's clearly quoting someone on that last.

[dr_temperance]

All right. A starting point has been established.

"And who told you this?"

Brennan's views on hell are roughly the same as her views on Santa Claus--namely that there's no such thing. But since discovering Milliways she's had to learn to contend with the idea of a multitude of worlds beyond her own.

[argyle_princess]

"Commodore Lyon," she says.

Then adds, helpfully, "He's, um, you know, this guy who's majorly old and from around Henry's time. I think. I met him once before. Liked him better that time. He wasn't all . . . " she trails off, looking for the word, then spits out " . . . English."

[dr_temperance]

Given that Henry himself is English, Brennan imagines that Hannah's derisiveness is meant more for this Commodore Lyon himself than for his nationality.

"And is that all he told you? That Henry is in hell or something close to it?"

Actually, Brennan is certain that Hannah would never have settled for information that vague. Especially where Henry is concerned. The question is merely to keep drawing out the relevant facts, leaving the question of Commodore Lyon's Englishness aside for the time being.

[argyle_princess]

The word Hannah uses most of the time for Henry is British. There's a difference. At least as far as Hannah is concerned.

"He wasn't real forthcoming with the details. I don't know how much just actually didn't know and how much he just didn't bother to tell me. He didn't want to speculate, he said, but . . . I don't know, I think he kinda knows more than he told me.

"Henry was on the Pearl--the ship that was out in the lake, with Captain Sparrow. I'm sure there was very good reason, but I don't know it. And the, um . . . damn it, what was the name? I don't remember."

She shrugs.

"Anyway, this other ship somehow showed and pulled them, Pearl and all, into Davy Jones's Locker, because Davy Jones has some sort of 'unfinished business' with Captain Sparrow. Henry was the . . . Henry was the collatoral damage. There's always some, right

[dr_temperance]

Brennan is trying to process all of this. It's not going well.

"Hannah, I'm....I'm sorry."

Her brain is still attempting to sort this cascade of information into something that makes sense.

"But there is the possibility that they can get them out?"

[argyle_princess]

'Certain unlikelihood of success,'" she repeats slowly.

[dr_temperance]

"Hannah."

Firm voice is back. Brennan does not want a repeat of numb and dead.

"I think," she adds slowly, and a bit more softly, "that maybe you should go home."

[argyle_princess]

"Oh? And tell people what? That I got some bad news while I was in the bathroom before precal? That's why I'm crying? Just go about my day like all's right with the world?"

That would be sarcasm.

[dr_temperance]

Sarcasm. And other things that often fly right over Brennan's head.

"No. I would say go to the nurse's office, tell them that you're sick, and go home."

Even after a few hours of sleep, Hannah isn't going to have any trouble convincing someone that she's not well.

[argyle_princess]

Hannah shakes her head.

"What do I tell Mom? Or Dad?

"God, Brennan, I don't know what to do. Right now I'm having trouble remembering to breathe."

[dr_temperance]

Brennan doesn't really know what to say---and when she doesn't know what to say, she generally winds up saying something that makes things worse.

So she just pulls Hannah into a very tight hug.

[argyle_princess]

Hugs are good. They don't fix the problem, but they don't make it worse, either.

"What am I supposed to do?"