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"She did seem strange, although some, if not most, of that could be chalked up to the break-up, as it seemed to start manifesting over twitter at the time. I thought it was just the break-up." He sighed. Horace didn't like talking about America, but this was a professional problem, not a personal one, despite its personal ties. "As for the infirmary - there seems to be a rash of people lately not bothering to inform people they have been hurt or specifically requesting no visitors." Like Nellie, he thought, or Oliver. Horace also doubted very much that Jan would have informed him, either. Thank goodness for noisy infirmary workers.

Horace was not necessarily mollified so much as he was willing to let things drop. He told himself he had to try harder, to not get so upset over what Jan said were little things. He sighed heavily and brushed away the hair at Jan's temple, looking at the bruise. "I imagine the bruising and all is superficial." A beat. "I'm sorry, too, for losing my temper. Do you need anything while you're here - or afterwards? I heard it hurts for a while." It was pretty terrible of him, but Horace kiiiiind of wanted to know what it looked like.

He pulled out his phone again. "Edith or Caelius, you think?"

Horace gaped rather unattractively, like a fish. "Of course I don't want you podded! But how is it gonna look if it comes out that America is a golem and we knew and did nothing? We both would be held accountable for reckless endangerment of the whole island." He frowned. Jan getting podded was exactly the opposite of what he wanted. He remembered how lost he'd felt, how he'd pushed things aside to not think about them... "I like you here and I just wanna keep iit that way." Horace's voice was earnest, almost pleading.

"She's strong - really strong it feels like. Maybe the leads will decide it's best for her to be left alone until they locate the actual America or figure out the agenda. But if they don't know, they need to." Jan would be horribly, horribly mad, but even if he didn't want to, the division heads, at least one of them needed to be told. If needed, Horace would do it later, once he'd left Jan's room. "A division head isn't gonna tell your private business to the world, Jan."

In this moment, Horace realized he had no idea how Jan's logic worked. "I don't need a pat on the head," he looked comepletely confused. "I'm not gonna gain anything from this besides knowing you're not gonna get punished for keeping vital information to yourself. And I do think information sharing is important in such a large organization. communication is something too often neglected. I have no desire to 'kiss up' to the leads and division heads and I don't know why you're implying I will." Horace folded his arms across his chest. Anger made his accent stronger, vowels drawled out a little more.

"And of course it's not surprising she beat me," he said irritably. "-I lost nearly every spar I've had. I mentioned strength solely as an example of how dangerous having an unknown entity with such power just gallvantin' around the island!" He looked at Jan's wirst, feeling his own lips set into a line. "And no - I don't know exactly what happened to your hand, you've only ever said it was to 'protect America'. Is there something else you'd like to say?" Even as he spoke, he waved the question away as though it were an annoying bug. Perhaps now that he was intermediate, he could have access to the records detailing the incident.

"You cannot get in trouble for having what I assume was consensual sex with someone you thought was America Jones. Hunters have gotten ice crotch before without any great repurcussions. But you could be punished for with holding information, especially if it presents a danger to the organization." He rubbed a hand across his face. Horace didn't understand why Jan was being so insistent.

"I just... don't want anything to happen to you or me if we knew there was a threat and didn't report it!"

"It's perfectly bizarre he finds you trustworthy in the first place, my dear," the doctor responded as he swanned into the room. "I think Caelius must be recruiting based on lack of self preservation," he tsked and then gave Horace a pat on the head.

If Lawrence had been tense in posture before, it was doubled when the doctor entered. It was not so much feeling as coiled energy and restlessness of the sort that made him do things (often dangerous things) on impulse.

The posture did not last however, and out of necessity he relaxed his external appearance as much as it was possible to do so. He did not greet the doctor, but looked over at him, running his good hand through his hair in some subconscious effort to tidy it. "Surely a simply case like mine does not require your specific attention."

Horace was still there, and this was also cause for further tension, he did not listen to a damn thing he said.

His eyebrows raised. It was somewhat mollfying to know that H already knew, although Horace knew he could say absolutely no version of 'I told you so' to Jan. As H talked, Horace found himself subtly leaning, like a cat reluctant to be petted.

"I understand. Has the original been located?" Horace decided not to mention that he had told Dawson. He did not ask if any other of her close friends had been warned - H's tone seemed to suggest they had not and would not be. If she was being watched, then he had been watched, and so had Jan. Interesting.

"There are others searching for her," H responded dismissively. "The nature of clones indicates they would seek to keep her alive for the time being."

Lawrence's statement had the doctor's fingers tightening around Horace's skull for a brief moment that could have been imagined if not for the lingering pain. "How regrettable. Please elaborate."