"What the fuck are we gonna do?"

No one seemed to have a straight answer. Cliff's attention took only to the window, observing the inhabitants of a neighboring tree. There were only two birds, both of them a muddy shade of brown. Malcolm sat at the small dining table to the side of the occupied living room, not saying a word. He kept busy by drinking from a cup of water, every few minutes turning to the sink to fill it up. Angus was on the couch with a foot crossed over his knee, biting his fingernails. Phil, who had proposed the question, paced the room looking from man to man and getting discouraged when none would return his gaze. A tray carrying small tea sandwiches was placed on the coffee table by a very small woman in a red sundress. 

"Thought you might like some lunch," she said straightening up. She wiped her hands on her dress. "Please, help yourselves."

"Thanks, Isa," Phil said addressing her. She smiled at him and walked back to the kitchen, bringing her little finger to her eye when no one could see her. Phil looked down at the carpet then up at Angus whose fingernails were surely too short to be eaten so. "You'd be better off with a sandwich, Ang," he noted, nodding at the tray. "You're gettin' smaller every day."

"Well fuck me for not havin' an appetite," he mumbled grabbing a sandwich. After inspecting the lettuce sticking out the side, he merely held it in his hand which rested on his leg. Keeping Phil out of his sight, he looked toward the dimly lit hallway where a small woman was crouched, reading a book. Isa had given it to her to keep her busy, after soon understanding that talking was not her most desired activity. Hannah took to the book like a pauper to a meal, and was already quite a few pages in. Angus couldn't see the cover but judged from the size that it was one of those old books people read to pass the time. Hannah was right at home.

Malcolm pushed his chair in rather loudly drawing everyone's attention more than Phil's question, set his empty glass down in the sink and made for the kitchen. What he wanted from there was anyone's guess, perhaps a little peace and quiet. Despite the presence of four rowdy men, it was lacking in chatter. 

It was still too quiet.

"I'm not doin' anything without Malcolm's consideration," Phil stated watching the man depart. "If he wants to quit an' leave he can, if he wants to have this meeting...I'd love to know his thoughts."

"You'll have to pry them out of him," Cliff spoke up, eyes still trained to the window. "Nothing I say to him sticks, he just looks at me." No one answered to this. "I don't blame him."

"We could at least discuss what our next move is," Phil said coldly. "We can't stay in this house forever, an' it's not easy switchin' careers in the middle of things. Wh-what are we supposed to do, jus', jus' up an' find other jobs, do we split up an' find other bands, do we get another singer, what?"

His eyes immediately landed on Angus, Malcolm's right hand man. If Malcolm was keeping silent, perhaps his brother could part the waters for them. But Angus had kept his eyes on Hannah, refusing to look anyone in the eye. Should Angus say the wrong thing and send them all into a factory for minimum wage, they might never forgive him. Should they continue on the road to music they might run the risk of slaughtering their success from starting over in new bands. Anything Angus decided to do would change their lives forever, and he could easily make the wrong choice. He wasn't a god after all, just a human.

He thought maybe if he stared at Hannah long enough she'd notice and return his look. She certainly thought more of him than just a human, but she knew as well as anyone he wasn't perfect. The difference was that she would support him. Not everybody would be happy with the end result, if it meant splitting up or quitting music altogether. Someone would always be unhappy. Someone would always try to put the blame on someone else. 

And Angus was quite sick of it.

"I'm goin' outside," he mumbled setting the uneaten sandwich back on the tray. Glancing at Hannah in the hallway, he noticed her quickly looking up at him, then back down at the pages of the worn book. Even in darkness he could tell her eyes were glistening. 

Deciding to make his exit through the backdoor, he passed the kitchen to see Malcolm looking down at Isa as she cut her sentence short. She smiled at Angus who merely nodded his apology for interrupting. "Angus," Isa said before he could reach the door. Her eyes also glistened with tears, a few staining her cheeks. Malcolm made sure his hair sat in front of his eyes. "Angus, Bon knew how important this band is to you boys," she said, her voice cracking. "He knew playing was your dream, just like singing was his."

"There's not a lot more we wanted to do," Malcolm spoke up for the first time. "Nothin' else pays as much, nothin' else piques our interest."

"I understand," Isa nodded. "But know you don't have to quit."

"There aren't too many bands out here lookin' for new guys-"

"I meant you don't have to quit your group. Bon wouldn't have wanted this band to split up." Malcolm shifted uncomfortably in his spot.

"We don't want that either, but-"

"Please don't feel like you're replacing Bon," she said. "No one on Earth can replace my Bon. He's my boy." She began to tear up again, Malcolm taking her into a hug. "Bless you, Malcolm. Bon knew how much potential this band had, an' I'm sure he was tired of moving around so much. He didn't settle down on much, but a good career in a good band was his priority. He knew what you were capable of, what you're still capable of, he knew this band would be universal." Not Angus nor Malcolm answered her, Malcolm's arm still around her in a half hug. She patted Malcolm's shoulder and looked him deeply in the eye, as if she was his own mother. "Just think about the prospect," she said. "At the height of your success he really wouldn't want you to quit."

Letting the small woman go, Malcolm walked toward the backdoor and borrowed Angus' plan to go for a walk. "Playin' on's a big challenge," he said. "I don't know if that's such a good idea right now." The door closed behind him, Isa standing left to wipe a few more tears rolling down her eyes. Even Angus had to turn his eyes down to see her.

"Findin' someone to fill Bon's shoes won't be easy," Angus mumbled. "We've already switched someone out with him, an' he was the best there was."

"Oh-Bon was telling me and Chick about someone he listened to on the radio, or perhaps he saw him on television..." Isa scrunched up her face in thought. "I can't recall his name, love, but he was quite fond of his voice. If he's willing to join another group, or perhaps he at least knows someone who can audition?"

"We'll, eh, we'll think about it." Angus gave the most truthful answer he could figure, one that wouldn't make too many people upset yet. Maybe Malcolm wouldn't mind reaching out to this nameless star and at the very least get some influential names out of him. It'd be nice to get a name for of the first man though. Giving Isa the other half of the hug, he stepped away, smiling a bit when she pinched his cheek. Deciding it best to let Malcolm get some fresh air he went the other direction past the living room. Phil noticed his reappearance.

"Back so soon?" he asked. Angus saw his sandwich still stacked nearly on the tray and felt his hunger return. Grabbing it and inspecting it once more, he nodded to the spare bedrooms down the hall. 

"I'm goin' to bed instead," he answered. "Too tired for a walk."

"Well when your brother comes back an' wants to talk," Phil said. "Let him know where we are. Has he gone to the bar?"

Angus shrugged, taking a bite of sandwich. "Goodnight." Receiving no reply, Angus walked down the hallway seeing Hannah still nose deep in her book. The cover was faded, so that even at this proximity Angus couldn't tell what the name was. She stole a glimpse of him again, only looking down for a second. He motioned down the hallway as he chewed, then found his way to one of the spare bedrooms they shared. Smaller than their current one and larger than their first one, it was a good size. The bedspread and curtains were a matching red floral much to Hannah's distaste. But she appreciated the invitation to stay at Bon's parents' house, and made the best of it. Small travel bags were carelessly tossed beside the bed in pure exhaustion when they arrived and a few bottles were spilled around Hannah's bag. Finishing his sandwich, Angus knelt down to pick them up, reading a few labels. One was almost empty by the weight of it, Angus thinking it some sort of prescription as he couldn't recognize the brand. The bedroom door closed and he quickly placed it back in her bag and stood up. There Hannah stood, book in hand and eyes red. "Hey," he said taking a seat on the bed.

"Hi," Hannah mumbled rubbing her arms through her sweater. 

"Come 'ere," he said holding his arms out. After a second thought she met him on the bed, choosing to sit next to him rather than on his lap. Enveloped in his embrace, she sighed in content, letting her anxious heart slow down. Resting his head on hers, he could smell her shampoo. It was foreign to him, having been bought last minute at the drugstore down the road. Brushing the hair from her eyes, he felt her forehead. "You feel okay?"

"What?"

"Your head's a bit warm."

"We're in Australia in summer, what did you expect?"

"Feels like more than that," he said palming her skin. She burnt like a brand to the touch. "You've got a fever."

"Mrs. Scott gave me some medicine earlier," she said trying to put Angus at ease. "It hasn't been that long."

Kissing her forehead was like drinking from a hot mug. Only instead of the comfort that tea usually brought him, this only worried him. If Hannah was getting sick again, she should be at home resting. With Hermione instead of leaving the rabbit with a sitter. But if Isa had indeed given her medicine she should be feeling well enough for the time being. Still, Angus couldn't help the pain for his love. 

He looked down at the book in her hands, her fingers flipping the pages like a deck of cards. "What book is that?"

"Les Misérables," she answered. 

"Oh, that French book?"

She gave him a look to which he giggled at. "Yes, Angus, that French book."

"I know the one, some teachers at school had the kids read it."

"Did you?"

"Nah, I left too early, remember? We both did." Both sighing in relief that they escaped that prison, Hannah flipped to where her bookmark was. Not quite halfway, but an impressive spot for having just picked it up that day. "Is it good?"

"Very good." She wiped her eyes a bit, sniffing. "There's a little girl who-"

"Wait, wait, hold that thought, sweetheart." Angus stood from the bed and pulled the bedspread back, revealing a set of beige sheets. "Let's get ready for bed, then you can read to me a bit."

"Read to you?"

"Yeah, help me take my mind off things. Only if you want to, of course." Hannah wrinkled her nose.

"You might not understand what's going on."

"That's alright, I can make do. Here-" With that he removed his sweater and set it on her lap, gladly receiving a good blast of air conditioning on his skin. "You take my sweater tonight, I'll wash it in the morning."

"What'll you wear then?"

He grinned at her as he yanked his pants off his ankle. "The same thing I've been wearin' since I was born. With these, of course," he said snapping the waistband of his underwear. He climbed into the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin like a child. "I'm ready whenever you are."

Pulling on the yellow sweater, she followed Angus' actions by leaving her jeans next to his. Slipping into bed next to him, she opened her book and took out the bookmark. "Cosette could not help casting--what?"

Angus covered his mouth with his hand, hiding his giggling from sight. "Nothin', sweetheart, go on."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"No! No, it's just...my sweater."

"What about it?" He giggled again, Hannah conjuring up her own answer. "This used to be white, didn't it?"

"No, it-"

"Angus, if I'm wearing a product of your dirty deeds so help me-"

"You're not, love, I swear," he said wrapping an arm around her again. "It's just yellow like a banana, ya' know? Hannah Banana?" Hannah stuck her tongue out at him waiting for Angus to control his giggle fest. "I'm sorry, love, go on. I'm listening."

As she read the passages, sometime Angus closed his eyes.He listened to the words yes, but not as much as he listened to Hannah's voice. At times she would stumble over a word, or find one she couldn't pronounce, asking Angus' opinion. Twice he corrected her, any other time he was stuck as he couldn't speak French. A few pages into her chapter and her reading slowed down. Angus could hear her voice choke up. 

"A girl without a doll is almost as unfortunate and quite as im-impossible...as a woman without children..."

"You okay?" Angus asked opening his eyes. Hannah's were tearing up, but only one hit the yellow pages.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"You can stop if you want."

"No, I want to get to book four before I go to sleep." After explaining the layout of the book to Angus whose eyes widened at the words 'book four', Hannah continued reading.

Hannah's home life never seemed bad to anyone living on the outside. How often had Angus seen Hannah and her mother together? How often was Angus ever invited to her house? Besides the time he snuck her back in after a night at the hospital, he'd never even been through her front door. Until the day she moved. 

Angus quickly retreated from that memory.

"My mother is dead! my mother is dead! my mother is dead!..."

It had been years since Hannah had any contact with her mother. Ever since she left with Travis and Angus had brought her out of that nightmare, the two hadn't spoken. Not one phone call, not one visit. Granted, her mother couldn't possibly know where Angus lived now unless she told her.

Hannah's voice broke again.

"...to give forty-franc dolls to a slut that I wouldn't give forty sous for..."

Hannah's mother was never this cruel, Angus thought. Strict and stern, straight as a ruler, but not a dictator. Not a heartless guardian using Hannah as a servant than a daughter. But...how often did Angus see what went on in that house?

Angus opened his eyes when he heard Hannah laughing, tuning back in to the chapter at hand.

"...there was a moment, then, when this monster was a virgin."

"Ya' know, the ladies all said the same thing about me," Angus said upon hearing that line. "No one believes I was ever innocent, ya' know?"

"You were until you met me," Hannah spoke up. 

"Yeah, as soon as I met you I went from cartoons straight to an R rated film. Bugs Bunny wasn't the bunny I wanted anymore, ya' know?"

Continuing her story, Angus closed his eyes again, his mind going from Hannah's mother to Travis, her next guardian. That tall posture, those robotic teeth, those fluffy pink earmuffs...just the sight of him was enough to make anyone sick with the way he carried himself. Putting on an act just to make himself look superior to anyone within radius. How horribly he treated his childhood friend, how Angus and Malcolm felt so helpless against the situation. How angry Malcolm was when he saw the bruises on her arms, and how angry Hannah had been when Angus found them...

"...and my intention is that she shall never see you again in her life."

Angus silently thanked Whoever out there was listening that Hannah got away. Safe from those cigars, safe from those groping hands, safe from that violent temper and those venomous words. Safe with him where he could finally love her the way he always had. Without being threatened or pushed away. 

Suddenly the room was quiet. Next to him the bed was empty and a quick darkness covered the room. Angus heard footsteps and the rustling of sheets, and soon enough Hannah had pulled the covers over both of them, pressing her face against his shoulder. Her skin had cooled down some. Gently rubbing up and down her sweater covered arms he soothed her scars. 

A boom of thunder rolled outside. A summer storm was settling in, a few drops of rain hitting the window. Hoping Malcolm would make it home safe and dry, Angus snuggled further into the sheets and bedspread, thankful to be warm and sheltered. Comforted in times of a storm.

Angus couldn't see the book behind her on the nightstand. He couldn't hear much talking outside the bedroom door. He couldn't feel a real state of happiness in his heart no matter how content he was by lying in bed with her. Distracted for a few minutes, the realization had once again settled in his stomach like ice. A few tears leaked from his eyes and he let them stain the pillow. He embraced Hannah tighter, thankful he still had his girl.