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"Good old Dawson, good old honest chatty Dawson." Lawr said and sounded almost delighted. "And it is probably only a matter of time before everyone else finds out. Poor America. I mean, as it stands, you would think that the people who didn't like her might deliberately tell everyone."

He smiled broadly, all smugness and self satisfaction. "This isn't quite up to the standards of your usual plans, are you losing your touch?"

Clearly not expecting the movement from H, Lawr found himself once again dazed by no small degree of pain, pain which was rapidly repeated before he even had time to realize what was happening.

He was left staring at the other man while his vision cleared, completely robbed of breath for a few moments as his body dealt with the raw influx of agony and Butch whined piteously at the idea of more pain and more recovery attempts.

He did not so much as glance at poor Horace to see if he was ok.

"No." he said breathlessly, and it slipped out before he could help it, as close to panic as he got, stupid and impulsive. Jan was all he had left that functioned at all, the prospect of losing that part of himself, that front was almost impossible to imagine. He resumed his accent and tried to wave it off. "Ah mean. I mean. You already took her. Isn't that data enough?"

Horace didn't even have time to wince at Jan questioning a division head before H decided that two heads were better than one. Two heads bashing against each other. He grunted in pain, hands flying up to his head as it was let go. Okay, maybe every one of their leaders was insane, not just Caelius. He had nothing meaningful to add to the conversation (and nothing to add that would not result in more violence), so he listened.

And didn't understand a lick of what was going on.

But that didn't stop him from absorbing the odd emphasis on words, the emotions. It was all very curious and he had a headache. Horace stiffened when Dr. H mentioned podding, eyes sliding worriedly to Jan. And then, like a really ******** weird summer storm, the head of the Life division was gone. He rubbed his forehead and ran his tongue over his teeth, making sure none were loose, again.

"Are you okay?" he said. And then, "-what was that about?"

Horace flinched at the sound of Jan's voice. "Yes, well, I did not exactly have a chance to leave, if you didn't notice," he said in a voice equally clipped. Rolling his shoulders, he stood, wobbling a bit. His head still hurt and would likely hurt for a while yet. The chair squeaked as he bumped into it. His eyes searched Jan's face, he almost reached out to touch him, but-

"I will bring you some painkillers later." And then he turned and left the room.