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Fuckwald, it's day fucking 3 and someone is dead and I'm gonna be a useless goddamn mess tomorrow on your shitty little trial if I don't get some fucking booze in me!

[ Really, Hank doesn't sound well today. This "call" starts angry, but just gets sadder and sadder. ]

Look, the robot corgi helped. I appreciate it? I do. But for fuck's safe. Please. Please. Just one. I just need a little, man. Just one and I'll go back. I'll quit. Connor can help me.

Please, Oswald. I just... I can't do this anymore.

...I heard.

[Listen, he... doesn't sound any happier about it that you do. Less angry and just more-- disappointed. Nonetheless, he doesn't have to think long this time.]

Alright. You can come to my office. I'm certain Connor's told you about it. I'll send the elevator for you.

Fucking finally.

[ He's been angry, only been eating what Connor forces him too, and probably hasn't had a seizure through pure good fortune. It was about time, in his opinion. Maybe a proper detox in the proper facilities might be a better plan in the future.

Right now, Hank is making his way over to that elevator. Time to check out Hale's swanky office. You know, it never even occurs to him that this might be a trap but then he really doesn't care about anything besides getting some alcohol back in his system. ]

Look, I get it that you're trying to help me. I mean, I get it that you think you're trying to help me. But point gotten, man. I need to cut back. Just maybe not someplace where people actually need me.

Yes, I think you've learned well enough from your mistakes.

[There's nothing but a small, fond chuckle hidden in there.]

What do you like to drink? I should be able to manage.

[He'll prepare you a thing while you travel.]

Cross my heart, big guy.

[ Wow, Hale. Wow. People (not people, just Hank) are going to think you have a heart under there. ]

Whiskey. Neat. Make it a double, if you can.

[By the time he’s climbed into the elevator and it takes him to the floor labeled A, Oswald has removed countless coffee cups off his desk and into his trash and on it instead sits two glasses of whiskey. Hank’s is a double, naturally. The rest of the bottle sits there. It’s clearly the first its been used but it’s a Fine and Expensive whiskey. As good as the shit gets.]

Your drink.

[He passes it across the desk where a chair waits for Hank. Oswald is missing his usual blazer. The sharp vest is still in place but the top two buttons of his white dress shirt is undone and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He looks... well, a little troubled himself. But then— there’s been a murder, so...]

[ A for Asshole, huh? Good to know you cleaned up a bit, Hale. Hank doesn't super care, one way or another. He's here for the alcohol. And maybe for the conversation, since Hale hasn't proven to be so far up his own ask that he can't joke around. It's kind of weird seeing him at less than his best, but yeah, most people would be involved with the death and stuff. And Hank's worried about that to, really, he's just... more involved with this right now. Addiction sure is a thing. ]

Thanks.

[ Yes, he even has time to be polite! Incredible! And don't think he isn't impressed by the expensive whiskey. Hank might drink swill on the regular, but he knows a nice drink when he sees one. Hank takes a seat and takes his drink, finishing off half the glass if only because whiskey this good deserves to be savored. ]

Shit, they really get you the good stuff up here, huh? That big fat check of yours must really pay.

It was a gift from one of the last company meetings. I save these things for the right times. It's good to see it go to someone who will enjoy it.

[He's not a big drinker but it's worth it for little times like these.]

My paycheck is enough to keep the hospital happy, at least. And that's as much as I care for.

I gotta get myself invited to one of these meetings, damn.

[ Hank never turns down free alcohol. Never. Even from you, Todd. ]

That so? So did you manage to hire that doctor you were lookin' for?

I'll add your name to the list next time.

[Lord knows he'd rather be doing other things. You can go in his place.]

...as a matter of fact, I think I may have found just the person. I'm still fighting to get the funding out of the Headmaster, but it shouldn't be an issue. Like any school, getting money for the proper things is more difficult than it has any right to be.

Sweet. Can't wait -- you guys get together and plan out fancier holding cells or what?

[ Since, you know, they are prisoners, after all. ]

Yeah, no surprise that your murderschool runs about the same as any other. We even gonna see this doctor, or are you hiring them on just in case one of you teachers gets hurt?

It's just the school. Sorry, but the number of safe places there are to choose from doesn't offer much variety in this world.

I'm not doing this for my own health. [Which is shit already, if the fact that he never sleeps and runs solely on coffee and regret is any sign.] You'll see them as soon as I can arrange it.

How do you get the booze then? This the last alcohol on earth or something?

[ Not that that stops him from enjoying another sip, mind you. ]

Okay, question. How do you find these people if the world's so shitty? Are you grabbing doctors from other worlds, too?

Not as easily, but it's not as dire as all that.

Not everyone is susceptible to it. Nor is this the last safe place. But there are a lot of places that are in worse shape than others. And a number of people are still working on ways to minimize the risks, but it's not easy.

As for that-- no, a lot of our own are working together on this problem. Some with more success than others. But we've kept in touch with a lot of them because it's good to know those kinds of people right now.

What, so the whole world isn't even fucked? You're doing all this for... what? Some kinda alien plague that only affects a city the size of a postage stamp?

[ Hank nods along to the information. It's always nice to learn more. ]

So are you, Han, and Megumi immune?

You guys have like, internet and shit, right? What the hell's the endgame here with the "friendship is magic" crap, anyway?

Considering my family's history with it I would say that I am certainly not immune in the slightest.

[Yes. He's 500% bitter. But not at Hank. Not really.]

Professor Han didn't show any signs when he crossed the wall going after the students, but that guarantees nothing.

Miss Satou is, however, immune as far as I would imagine.

The endgame, you might imagine, is us being able to gain your assistance, find the cure, and return you all home to the times and places that you belong. We have no intention of causing you any further trouble beyond asking your help.

Your family's history, meaning...? You lose your parents to it or what?

[ Connor hasn't caught him up, it's still early. ]

Oh, great, so Han might be fucked up, and it'd be because some fucking dumbasses couldn't keep from throwing themselves into literal fucking fire?

[ Yeah, Hank's upset about that??? He likes Han, weirdly enough. ]

Right, sure, but what part of this shit finds the cure? Because if we could skip past all the killing and go straight to that, I bet you'd make a helluva lot more friends.

[He's a bit surprised-- but not so much so that he doesn't bother to answer.]

My brother, although whether he's truly "lost" to it yet or not is still debatable. But I can't imagine I'm any less likely to be affected than he was.

[And... Oswald isn't happy about Han either, but--]

I would imagine he'd have shown signs by now. Having seen what happened to the others, you might imagine that it's not a quiet sort of ailment.

As much as I'd like to make friends rather than the opposite, I don't get to make the choice of how our heroes are selected. No one who has to take part in this program likes how it's run. But I'm here to find a cure. And to try and make sure some fool doesn't make it worse.

[He seems to have... a fool... in mind. And it doesn't seem like it would be anyone you've met yet. After all-- the other two are highly intelligent even.]

[ They talk about their feelings more than anything lately, ok. ]

Fuck. Well, that sucks.

[ On all accounts, really. ]

How do we know what the signs even look like? It the same on everybody, like some kinda disease, or...?

[ You know he's worried now. About Han. ]

Shouldn't the people above you be, I dunno, smarter than you? No offense.

It's impossible for me to say I'm completely sure. The symptoms you saw out of some of your fellow Apprentices are only come of the possibilities.

Most times it's known for derailing inhibitions, morality, sanity-- and some are more affected than others. But there are also extreme cases like my brother's that appear dormant. He's in a coma. As it was explained to me, he is fighting the disease, but neither he nor it are strong enough to beat the other. Maybe he just shut down to stop it...

But I can't imagine a case where it doesn't show in some way or another.

[He doesn't even want to think about it.]

That is the best case scenario, but you're wise enough to know that's not always the case in reality.

[ Hank snorts. Yeah, there's plenty of bureaucrats above him who are full of shit. That's fair. It's much scarier to think that these people are in charge when there's this freaky fucking alien plague... thing. ]

Jesus fuck.

[ Yeah, that sounds bad. ]

Alright, how come Han doesn't remember this stuff, then?

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