Spilling Guts

Part 122 - Root of the Problem

"It wasn't anything bad, mom." Will sighed, burrowing into the Med Tech bed with shower-damp hair. He couldn't put the Sleepy Beanie back on until his hair was dry and a nurse could reattach it. His hair enjoyed the freedom and he enjoyed feeling clean and warm. For now. In five minutes his cold would likely make him feel like an inferno and he'd sweat through his t-shirt. "Jacob just needed someone to talk to, face to face."

Will had needed a break after staring at a whiteboard and throwing up. After waking from his nap, it hadn't taken much for Louis to convince him to go back to Med Tech and clean up. Why Will thought he could still be helpful when this sick he had no idea. Louis escorting me to the showers with an arm around my shoulders felt good though.

Of course Louis had disappeared once Will shrugged off his outer robe. You'd think a man that had been wearing a funeral suit for the last thirty-six hours would also want to freshen up.

When Will was in the shower he missed a call from his mother. He called her back once he was in bed.

"It sounded bad when he needed your number," his mother said.

"We cleared the air." I should have called her sooner to reassure her that Jacob had meant well when he visited.

The sounds of running water and clinking plates set Will's mother in the kitchen, probably cooking or cleaning. "Then why do you sound so bad?" she asked.

"Either a cold or allergies." I'm allergic to nightmares caused by inventions of mad scientists. Will shifted under the sheets. How were beds so uncomfortable when someone needed the comfort? "How's Arnie?"

"He's fine. He's doing the dishes."

Will stilled. "Arnie never does dishes."

"He does now."

"He tried to put the turkey pan and nana's cast-iron skillet in the dishwasher last year."

"Told you. Some men you need to train up."

Will heard Arnie laugh in the background with a splash. Guess even old men set in their ways can learn something new.

"If you feel poorly, Arnie and I can wash dishes at your apartment. We could use a small vacation."

Will almost said yes. Wanting someone to meet him at home so he didn't have to sleep alone. But then he'd have to come up with a lie for the nightmares and set up another "friends and family" visit upstairs.

"Vacations shouldn't be you coming to do chores," Will countered. He looked up at a pair of shadows knocking at the doorway. Rachel and Hayman, both in their lab coats, awake but grim. "I gotta go, mom. Work calls. Love ya."

He lay the phone by the tiny cardboard furniture on the bedside table.

"Good news or bad news?" he asked the doctors.

"Neither," said Hayman, pulling a chair closer and showing a clipboard full of neat handwriting. "We have questions."

***

Rachel handed Will an electrolyte bottle, grape flavored. She'd gotten a message from Balcuwitz to lay off anything cherry flavored. Pity. She had already bought a twelve ounce canister of cherry flavored lubricant that would now go to waste. And she'd had to argue with Watch Mission Control that it was a job expense. "If you need to tap out just tell us."

Will nodded and answered as many questions as he could between sips and shifting in the bed. After Will's hair dried Hayman took the opportunity to put the Sleepy Beanie back on Will's head.