Chapter Nine

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"An' my prodigal brother returns," Malcolm said from inside the studio, Angus closing the door behind him. He carried his guitar case with him, setting it down on the floor by Malcolm's. "Took ya' only seven or eight years, eh?"

"Still not as long as you," Angus said grabbing a Styrofoam cup by the coffee machine and turning it on. 

"You got sick?" Malcolm asked, Angus confirming it. "How'd that happen?"

"You tell me, one minute I'm fine the next I'm dyin'." He turned the machine off and took his cup with him to the small couch to the side of the equipment. Phil's drum set stood a few feet away, marked by two microphone stands without any microphones. Bon's motorcycle was parked out front, the man himself gone to get breakfast for everyone. Angus agreed, finally ready to try some real food after three days of soup and crackers. Another car pulled up next to Malcolm's, Cliff opening the door and stepping out. 

"I could have given you a ride, ya' know," Malcolm said taking his turn at the coffee machine. "Or Cliff, or Bon..." Angus wrinkled his nose at the thought of taking a motorcycle to work. He knew perfectly well how fast Bon liked to ride motorcycles down the road, even suburban neighborhoods. "You didn't have to go walkin' in the early morning."

"That's alright, Mal, I need the fresh air."

"I could have stayed a bit, an' seen Hannah," Malcolm continued. "I hardly see her anymore, you're keepin' her to yourself." Angus smiled into his cup, wagging his eyebrows. Malcolm checked the amp behind him before he leaned on it. "She doin' okay?"

"She's doin' great, ya' know, seems much better after leavin' Travis, an' America, ya' know. She eats more, an'...talks a lot more."

"She's not...affected? In any way?"

"She's had a couple moments. Bad dreams, ya' know." Malcolm stared at Angus, waiting for him to elaborate, and sighed when he didn't. 

"Where is she now?" Malcolm asked, bringing up the fact that she hadn't come to the studio as well. The doors opened and Cliff walked in. "Hey, Cliff."

"The store, we're almost completely out of food. An' she's goin' to the doctor later today too."

"The doctor?" Cliff set his bass beside the far wall, taking off his jacket and setting it over the back of the couch. Two beer bottles were in his other hand, one handed off to Malcolm. "Thanks. She get sick too? Or..."

"You know those burns she had? They're almost gone but she says they've been itchin' her for a   while, an' she's been scratchin' 'em, ya' know? So she's goin' to the doctor to get a lotion or somethin' so they'll get better." Cliff twisted the cap off his bottle and took a few drinks. 

"Hannah's not comin'?" he asked as Angus shook his head. "That's too bad, kinda miss the little kid."

Angus took the cup away from his lips and wiped his mouth. "Speakin' of kids, Hermione had some last night." Malcolm frowned, trying to put the pieces together. 

"She had kids?" Angus nodded. "She wasn't fixed or nothin'?" A shake of the head. "An' Roger Rabbit jus' came up an' introduced himself, what happened?"

"Took Hermione to some rabbit park an' we looked away for two point five seconds." Cliff couldn't help the laugh. Malcolm finished his coffee, getting started on the beer. 

"An' she jus' had them last night?" Cliff asked. 

"A few days ago, right before we got back an' Susan was there to see it." Angus stood from the couch with his cup to get more coffee. 

"How many did she have?"

"Three. Well, no, she had four but...I guess it died right after it was born an' the vet took care of it." The door opened again, with Bon carrying a large paper bag from McDonald's. "We'll have to think of what to do with 'em an' get Hermione fixed."

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