BlueyCapsules | VOLUME TWO

A Long Time Coming

"Uh...hello? Hell-o hell-o! Uhm, there has been a...slight change in company policy, concerning use of the suits. Uhm...don't. After...learning of an unfortunate incident involving multiple and simultaneous springlock failures, the company has deemed the suits temporarily unfair for employees..."

"Hey, you. You're finally awake."

William felt like he'd been hit by a bus. Or maybe two buses, or three.

Looking around himself, he could quickly gather that he was in the hospital - things began coming back to him, albeit slowly. The suit, something with the suit...he looked down at himself. He was in a full-body cast, it seemed, unable to move more than his pinky finger. There was something uncomfortable in his nose, too, some kind of tube - he hated it. It was hot, and sweaty, and he was woozy as all hell - they must've had him on some crazy painkillers, for this. Dr. Not-Dawko stood over him, looking over his charts.

"You have some guests waiting for you," the doctor said. "I'll let them in now and be back with your reports." William watched as he left, and Henry entered, rushing to his bedside with a worried expression. Well, that was a good feeling.

"Oh, Will, thank god you're okay! The kids and I have been waiting all night!"

What kids?

"No!" William turned his eyes to the door, and saw Liz trying to yank her older brother into the room.

"Come on, I don't see what the big deal is!" Liz snapped, pulling on Michael's arm. "What does it matter anyways?"

"No!!" Michael argued. "I am not going in that fucking room! Why can't they take him to another room? Why does it have to be that one?!"

Oh. William rolled his eyes. Those kids.

Elizabeth successfully brought Michael into the room, sitting him down firmly.

"Will, how are you feeling?" Henry asked gently. "Are they treating you well?"

William opened his mouth to respond, and immediately felt pain grip at his chest and throat; He began to cough violently, spitting blood at Henry, who looked ready to cry.

"O-Oh God, I -" Henry turned to the kids. "Elizabeth, get him a glass of water, please."

"Why should I?" she snarked back, but Michael got up.

"I'll do it."

William heard the sink running as blood dripped down his chin, and Henry tucked a notepad into his bandaged arms. "Here," he said softly. "Use this to write what you need to say." Michael approached, holding a glass of water, and William gave him a shaky smile; Attaboy. At least one of his brats cared enough to take care of his old man, right?

...What was he looking at him like that, for?

Michael, looking thoroughly frightened, began to cry. He shoved the full glass of water into Henry's hands, successfully soaking William in the process, and ran out of the hospital room, slamming the door behind him. Stunned, William picked up the pen he'd been given to the best of his ability, scrawling a message for Henry to read.

'Wot is his problem'?

Henry sighed.

"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Boseman."

Boseman looked over at Philip, who had just entered and looked funeral-ready. He was suit-and-tie, holding a bouquet of white roses.

"Philip," he began awkwardly. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"Huh?" Philip began to tear up, his voice wavering. "Well, uh, I only saw it as respectful to...to dress like this after such a loss..." Philip was full-on crying, now, tears dripping down his face and snot dripping from his nose.

Boseman grimaced.

"Philip...you..." he chuckled nervously. "He isn't...dead. You know that, right?"

"He..." Phil sniffled. "He isn't? But -"

The door slammed, and Boseman watched as one of the Afton children - the boy - ran crying out of the room. Poor thing, he thought, to have to see his father in such a state...

"Hey, Afton...wasn't that your kid?"

William looked up as Boseman entered, followed by his three brats. Ah...right. He remembered now. That little fuck. He was why he couldn't move right now. Rage filled his head, and he felt his eye twitch. He said nothing.

"Oh, right," Boseman glared at his kids. "My kids have something they want to say to you. Right? Go on, now."

"We're very sorry, Mr. Afton," Cassidy and Gabe said in dull unison, refusing to look at him.

"We're very very sorry, Mr. Purple guy," Jerry sobbed - he was crying. He was crying? What the fuck was that sorry little shit crying for? He wasn't the one in a hospital bed - not yet, anyway, maybe when William was done with him. The child sniffled. "I-I didn't mean to get you hurt...I really am sorry. I-I hope you're okay."

William glared.

"Sorry to interrupt," Dr. Not-Dawko stepped into the room, holding a clipboard. "But I 've got your reports ready."

"Let's hear them, Doc," Henry said, sounding grim.

Dr. Not-Dawko cleared his throat.

"Minor fractures in the right ulna, radius, tibia, and fibula, seven fractured ribs, both lungs collapsed, nearly two liters of blood loss...all coupled with deep puncture wounds and sever skin abrasions across the entirety of the body..." he paused, furrowing his brow. "...aaand a single stab wound on the right shoulder, just above the collarbone. It's truly a miracle he is still alive. If you hadn't called immediately as you had, he would have almost certainly died." The doctor sighed. "Thankfully, not all of the machinery broke loose - only about 45%, I'd say. And what did break only narrowly missed his vital organs. Some of the metal in the neck region only broke as the suit was being removed. Luck was truly on Mr. Afton's side. He will need to remain in the hospital for at least two months, and he will be released with crutches - but now that he's awake and responsive, I have faith that he will make a full recovery."

"Wait," Henry's brows knitted together. "What was that about a stab wound -"

"Oh God, William - " Boseman interrupted, inadvertently saving his ass. "I am so sorry for all of this...I should have listened to Henry and dropped the idea of using the springlock suits altogether, and this would've never happened..." he sighed shakily. "I'll make it up to you. All of your medical bills - consider them paid! And during your recovery, even if it takes longer than two months, you will be put on a 100% paid leave. It's the very least I can do..."

William tightened his jaw. He watched as the doctor left, followed by Philip - who had brought him flowers, more than he could say for any of the other lot - and the Boseman brats. Boseman stopped before exiting, turning to look at Henry.

"Oh, Henry. By the way...I'm sure you'll want to stay as long as you can to keep your friend company, but if you can, I'd appreciate if you could stop by the pizzeria later." He seemed uncomfortable. "The - the fox and the duck...I know they just got out of repair, but...they're still not acting totally right. I can't seem to figure out what is wrong with them."

Shit.

"Ah, I understand, Boss," Henry smiled brightly. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you, Henry. I knew I could always count on you."

Boseman left, and William scoffed, scribbling down his thoughts frantically - wasn't it clear? This was on purpose. Boseman wanted him out of the picture. He held up the accusation for Henry, who seemed appalled.

"Wh - really? But he's just - " Henry scoffed. "You're ridiculous, you know that, Will? He is only trying to help you." He rose, taking William's surface from him. Rude. "I'll be back to check up on your later, but it really sounds like Boss needs me right now..." Henry moved toward Liz, beckoning her over. "Come on, Liz. Let's go find Michael and take you both back home."

William opened his mouth to argue, and then shut it, not willing to face the physical consequences. Shit. Well, he thought bitterly, Henry's sympathy was nice while it lasted, right? He turned toward the window, staring out at the trees as Henry left him with nothing but the beeping of his heart monitor.

It was going to be a long two months.