A Second Chance

Planting

Henry arose the next morning to a bleak view. William was still ill. He thankfully was not breathing his death rattles or convulsing as he was the day before. He appeared to be sweating out his fever. His sleep was restless. A soft cry in William's sleep made Henry grimace. He then noticed how hard William was shutting his eyes. He was squeezing them so hard that he looked like he was trying to squish them like grapes.

Something within Henry arose in him. It was too apathetic for pity but too pitiful for apathy. He observed this feeling for a moment before leaving it. He can annotate this unknown emotion later when he rests.

William kicks some of the blanket off of himself in his sleep. Henry quickly covers him again, only for William to flinch at the added warmth. It seems even in sleep he cannot escape his personal hell. It reminded Henry of when his mother had yellow fever. She had died two weeks into her illness. He often wondered why his father hadn't put her out of her misery sooner. She was suffering.

He scanned over William's wound, making sure infection had not set in. He closed his eyes, silently sighing in relief as he saw that the wound was still clean. Knowing William, he likely was fighting the common cold. Pathetic.

The clock begins to strike distantly in Henry's office. Eight chimes echo empty in the withdrawn restaurant. He fights the urge to dismantle the thing violently as it awakes William from his feverish stupor. He tried not to huff as William's eyes opened blearily.

"Good morning, you salmon bastard." He quipped.

He frowned. It seems he felt juvenile today.

"You realize I am the only one keeping you from purgatory's most wanted list"?

Henry watches William shakily raise himself to a sitting position.

"Oh, sorry. Let me try again. Good morning, you salmon bastard".

"William, saying the same thing twice does not make it more amusing".

William sneers and leans towards him: "How about I say it a third time then"?

His eyes glowed an angry red: "I will dismember you and the whole Kennedy family with Fredbear's chainsaw if you say it again".

William backs down after this, a brief look of terror flashing on his face before turning back into a petulant frown.

Henry cleared his throat. Doing his "demon" voice as William once called it always destroyed his throat the rest of the day. Thankfully he has cough drops on hand to take care of that.

As he grabbed the aforementioned medicine from his bag, he saw William staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He looked like a confused child. "Wait a minute, Henry. Fredbear has a chainsaw"?

"Yes. He is supposed to." He looks at William with the most deadpan face he can muster. He can see William fighting the urge to emote. It makes him look pained.

Good.

"It is supposed to be located in his mouth-"

"I don't care." William interrupted. Henry watches as William nervously gulps.

He smiles at William's rudeness. He understands. William's cornered and is simply lashing out like a trapped animal. Perhaps he simply needs some bait to tame him.

——————————————-

He woke up feeling like shit. His shoulder was still hurting like a son of a bitch. His scar on his chest felt like it was cut open again and he has a pounding headache. His fever was still baking his body. He's certain that if he was in an Olive Garden, he'd be served as roasted eggplant, with garnish. He quickly glances at his arm, realizing how hungry he was. He decides that eating his arm isn't a route he felt like going down today.