Will still can’t meet his friends, it’s week four, his surgery day finally came within the first half of the week. Will now has a cast, and his bones have been put back together. The nurse put a couple of pillows under it since the doctor recommended elevation.

The same white cast had been wrapped around his sprained wrist. The sling containing his arm lay against his chest.

Evidence, testimonies, witnesses, and defense. Only in the context of those things is Will glad Noah’s dad is loose-lipped. Otherwise, he would have had to be crammed in a courthouse, sitting across from the guy who broke his leg, like he wasn’t a new nightmare he had every night, mixing in with the others.

It’s week five, Will is starting to get tired of looking at the same room every day, and he wants to go home. The doctor said he’s only here for observation, to make sure he won’t have any complications once he goes back home.

So he’s cooperating, he’s always been cooperating, but if he gets told suddenly that he has to stay in this hospital for another week, he’s going to notify his pack before breaking out early.

Thankfully, that never happens, because his pack is finally visiting. It just so happens to be about three days before he can leave. Better late then never.

Sunlight beams through the flowy curtains, the light casting over the hospital room, a navy upholstered couch in one corner of his room. Will had asked them in a delirious state for this one, expecting his friends to come much sooner than they actually did.

Staring at that couch, waiting for the moment when they would be free to be kids again, didn’t help his spiral of thoughts.

Multiple steps echoed from down the hallway, similar in sound to the feet of many doctors, nurses, and patients he’s heard for the past few weeks, except he knows it’s different this time.

Will can feel the excitement through their link. Will’s been able to breathe a lot better than before, still having some issues moving his chest, but for the most part, feeling better.

The doctor told him that in the next two weeks, he should be clear of the broken ribs. His armcast has one more week before it’s removed, and he’s so happy he can leave soon.

Tangent aside, he can talk with little difficulty now.

“Is this the right room?” Eve wonders out loud, cracking the door a little to peek in and look around.

“Yeah, this is room 801,” Will confirmed, giggling to himself lightly, when Eve turned to him, surprised.

“Come inside already.” He waved them in with his good arm excitedly, flashing his canines at them as they complied. Eve walks over and stands by the railing of the hospital bed, while Noah stands next to Oakley at the foot of it.

They’ve talked about his injuries over their bond, but it feels different in person. For them to see what his progress looks like, and for him to feel like he’s still not done.

“You look a lot better, Will.” Noah chimed, Will had taken to taking pictures of himself to see the difference once he started getting better, but quickly gave up, staring at the same tired face every week made him feel like it was a dumb idea.

“Thanks, the doctor said I could go home in a couple of days.” He cheered, animatedly lifting his left arm above his head as he whooped.

“I can’t wait to eat real food and sleep in my own bed again, a shower would be great; I feel like the blood seeped into my nails, the gowns they have here are so uncomfortable, I miss my clothes, but apparently I can’t have them back until I leave.” He joked to himself. Making one sided spiraling conversation to stave off the clear concern everyone still had for him, noticing his overly cheerful output.

“It’s okay now.” Eve pulled him into a hug, interrupting his slowly quieting jokes.

“You can cry now, it’s safe now.” Eve pats him on the back, rubbing circles into his shoulders.

“What..?” he chokes out, smaller than he intended it.

“We just talked to him, and he said you can go home tonight.” Will made a small noise, dipping his head into her shoulder, and he felt something in him unlock.

Sobbing gently into her shoulder, quietly, but with so many tears, his head started hurting. Noah and Oakley walk around the hospital bed, coming up next to where he’s hunched over Eveline’s shoulder, crying.

With both hands, Noah wipes his tears and ruffles his hair. Oakley is coming over to rub his thumb gently on his shoulder.

Letting go for a second, Will grabs as many of them as he can with one arm and pulls them into a hug, nodding to whoever wasn’t caught in his hook to get in on it.

Comfortable and calming, this time, just like the last, he doesn’t want to let go, but this time, he knows he can hug them whenever he wants, when they get home.

So he releases them slowly, rubbing his crusty eyes.

“Here’s your clothes, do you need help with them?” Oakley offered, setting what looked like sweatpants, a grey t-shirt, and an extra-large hoodie on the bed.

“Yes, please.” Will scoots himself off the edge of the bed, picking up his casted leg with his hands before carefully setting it next to the one he already moved to the edge of the bed. He slid off carefully, grunting, and biting his lip.

“Did the doctor tell you anything about physical therapy? Noah asked gently, her hazel eyes wincing as she watched him land with a hiss.

“Uhhh, Yeah, she said I’d need–aah–to go for a long time to get my leg to work closer to normal.” he winced again, "Is it supposed to hurt this much?” He joked out loud, only for everyone around him to look worried.

“Chill, I… I’m joking.” He smiled crookedly and hobbled closer to Oakley, leaning on his shoulder and hobbling for a total of five whole minutes toward the curtain but making no progress with only one functional leg and one functional arm, before he was just straight up picked up by the armpits.

“C’mon, at least give me an illusion of doing it myself.” He whined before letting himself be brought behind the curtain in one corner of the room.

He just needed help getting his legs in, moving them was hard while bending over, using his right knee for anything blew, as it was busted, literally.

He leaned his shoulder against Oakley and used the other hand to hold onto Oakley’s shoulder as Oakley pulled the pants up for him. “Thanks.” Will gave a small but genuine thanks.

Putting on the shirt carefully, one arm at a time, careful not to tug too hard. Oakley helped him take off the sling, setting it down. Then, gently helped him get parts of the hoodie that got stuck under his elbow. Putting the sling back on, after scrunching up the hoodie sleeve gently so it rested where the forearm of the cast was.

Both left the little curtained area. Oakley grabbed his backpack as he walked over to his side table, grabbing his things and putting them in it. Oakley then grabbed his phone and tucked it into his pants pocket. “Just cuz I can’t walk over there doesn’t mean I don’t have hands to grab it.” He huffed in indignance, crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah,” Oakley teased, grabbing the phone back out of his undefended pocket. “Try to get it then,” he held the phone out of his reach, returning it to his pocket when Will gave up.

“Don’t bully the disabled Oaktree.”

Eve chuckled, clapping Oakley on the shoulder as she walked out the door. Will just gaped back at her, rolled his eyes, and tugged on Oakley’s shirt.

“Yes, Liam? What do you need?” He asked genuinely, lowering the phone back into his pocket immediately at the comment about bullying.

“Carry me on your ba–aaack!” He demanded, but didn’t even get to finish as his whisper-shouting turned to his normal voice as he got hauled up.

As gently as he would think humanly possible, only the grip Oakley had on the soft part under his knees was enough to hurt him, as they walked after the others, who laughed when they saw them, not in a mean way, just at the silliness of their expressions.

Just like that, they left the torture building, that is the General Hospital.