"You happy to be out of there?" Dad asked me and I laughed in response.
"You have no freaking idea. Of course, I'd be a lot happier if I wasn't stuck in a stupid wheelchair." I said pointedly as Dad wheeled me into the house.
"Sorry kid. Doctor's orders. Can't risk you ripping open your stitches." Uncle Sam greeted me at the door. See, I didn't have very many stitches but they were in a very bad place and if I wasn't careful I could open it up and well, let's just say it wouldn't be a good idea.
"Whatever." I muttered, trying to hide my smile. In all honesty, it was good to be back at the house, but it wasn't home. I wouldn't be home until we got back to the bunker. Jack and Ian came in to greet me after that and Uncle Sam pretended not to know about Jack and what he had been doing. Things were going pretty well. Until the police wanted me to testify in court against the West. My dad had refused them every time they had asked while I was in the hospital but then they approached me. They told me how my testimony could make or break this case and decide this man's fate. That sealed the deal. I knew that I had to do this. I may not be able to tell them about the demon possession but I could tell them enough to keep him behind bars for a long time.
