Aaaaaaa

Sinestro found nothing wrong with the barrack before him, which in of itself was wrong. His mentee, his chaotic shadow of a student, never left his station clean nor tidy. The sheets upon the bed were near-perfectly made, pulled tighter than Hal Jordan's normally thrown-about covers. There were no dishes strewn about the kitchenette, the refrigeration unit's door was no longer ajar, and the white counters were spotless.

Had Jordan switched rooms? There was no way, after all these months of training the human, that Sinestro could have possibly forgotten which room the younger resided in. 

He walked deeper into the room, noting the deactive lighting. He wondered if he had missed Jordan, if he actually went on patrol without telling Thaal beforehand, though his ring informed him that Jordan was still in his suite.

He turned a corner, finally seeing a proof of life in the form of light making itself known under the door to the bathroom. Sinestro gave pause, weighing the likelihood of Jordan just needing privacy when the sharp smell of sodium hypochlorite stabbed his nostrils. 

Sinestro burst into the room, frantically looking on the floor for a prone form. Why would Hal have such a potent poison? Why poison himself? Was his recklessness in the field a reflection of his desire to die? None of those questions were answered as he predicted, as Jordan startled up from his position at the side of the tub, shirt and jacket nowhere in sight. "What the hell, Sin?!"

Sinestro's confusion peaked, though his features gave nothing away. "I smelled a poisonous substance."

"Worried I was drinking bleach? Really?" Hal responded, wet rag in his hand steadily dripping into the tub.

"Yes." Sinestro confirmed frankly, stance relaxing. "Why do you have sodium hypochlorite and why have you doused a rag in it?"

Hal's head cocked in an annoyed confusion. "It's bleach. I'm cleaning."

Sinestro wanted to argue, wanted to warn him of the toxicity of the substance, but deigned against it, silently sending a million and one questions towards the depository of knowledge on his finger. "It's...Using this substance as a cleaning agent is common on Earth?"

Hal seemed to understand the confusion if the dawning understanding upon his features was anything to go by. "I mean yeah. I mean it's still a poison to humans, but it's like, a cleaning thing."

Sinestro's stance relaxed even more, as much as it would while he was in uniform, anyway. "I apologize. Sodium hypochlorite is illegal to manufacture on Korugar. I was...worried for your health due to its effects."

Hal let out a chuckle, though it sounded different than Hal's normal expressions of humor. "I can see that. Thanks for checking up on me, but I'm fine."

Sinestro took in the sight before him. Hal's hands were shaking, nose slightly pink and laps chapped. Between that and the absurdly clean barrack, Jordan was decidedly not fine. Thaal's expression softened. "What troubles you, truly?"

When Hal's expression dropped, it was as if the gravitational force of Oa itself had pulled down his face itself. "It's - I mean it feels like nothing compared to the universe-ending shit we go through pretty much weekly..."

Sinestro sat beside Hal, still wary of the rag in the human's hand. "And yet it has moved you to completely change your cleaning habits. It can hardly be a small matter."

Hal sighed, a bittersweet sound. "It's just stress cleaning. I'll probably ruin it in a day."

"'Stress cleaning.'? A common practice on Earth?"

"I don't know." Hal admitted, resuming his scrubbing of the tub. "My mom does it though. I figured that's where I got this from." Sinestro didn't reply, attention fixed on Hal's tone. The more he spoke, the less fine he seemed. "It was actually my mom who told me not to wear anything I like when using bleach. The stuff discolors everything and it just - the smell sucks to get out of fabric and the fabric won't look right unless it was white to begin with and I'm pretty sure there'll be some bleach stains on my jeans when I stand up anyways."

Sinestro hummed in acknowledgement, noting the differences in Hal's usual tone when talking about his family. When speaking of his neice, his voice would swell with a pride so potent that you couldn't help but to feel pride in her for him. Hus brother usually had a tone of exasperation, though a respect was always present. Hal rarely spoke of his father, but when he did, several layers of respect, nostalgia, and reverence were present. But this sadness? This was new. "Has something happened to your mother?"

Hal swallowed thickly, looking paler than he had a second before. "...Something harder to get out of clothes than bleach is the smell of nicotine." Nicotine, Sinestro recalled, was another substance banned on Korugar. "When - When my father died, she started smoking, and none of us really said anything because that's just how some people cope. We all knew it wasn't good but she was a single mom, recently widowed, who wouldn't want her kids worrying about her. But, Jesus Christ, we should've said something."

Sinestro understood what would come next. "Your mother is in ill health?" Jordan's response wasn't verbal, yet his singular nod told Sinestro everything he needed to know. While he may usually make it a point to criticize the decision to do harm upon one's self, knowing the consequences, his heart clenched at Hal's heartbroken expression. "I'm sorry, Jordan. If it's been detected, it is likely it can be treated, correct?"

"I don't - I don't know." Hal admitted, form trembling. "It's stage three, it's pretty bad, but it's - it's not the worst of it so maybe."

Not only did Sinestro now think his protégé's mother is phenomenally stupid, but with each tremble of loss going through his companion's spine, he gradually hated her more and more for what her decision had done to her son. Though Hal would hardly take that knowledge well. "If she raised a son such as yourself, she is likely, by all accounts, a fine, strong woman. She will get well. In the meantime, I may suggest that you stop cleaning." Hal looked back at him in surprise. "Something hardly expected to leave my lips, I know. But with the grip you've on that rag, your 'bleach' is likely killing several layers of skin cells. Come, wash the compound off of yourself, dress yourself, and we shall watch this 'Die Hard' film you've told me so much about." Hal smiled, though small, and rose to complete his given tasks as Sinestro made note to burn the rag when he next got the chance.