A Message to Scott Cawthon: Reimagined

Chapter Twenty-Four

The next four days were excruciatingly boring and painstakingly slow. Nothing changed. The same tasteless food three times a day. The same never-ending audio of the heart monitors. The random and worthless conversations. The lack of outside contact. The awkward encounters with the doctors on the way to the toilet. It seemed impossible that so much time had passed since their "holiday", and yet it seemed impossible that it had only been a minute since they last checked the clock. They had never been seen by the therapist again, and no-one would tell them why. Whenever they asked where Lewis had been taken, they were stared at blankly.

So, when they were told that they were being discharged, they almost squealed in excitement. Ryan practically choked on his drink, sending water across his chest. Will was to be taken to another part of the ward where he would be continuously monitored. His family and friends could visit him, and he would no longer be looked after by the "doctors" in the witness protection ward. Good riddance to them.

They were warned about a trial coming soon – two days, to be precise – and were told what to do when leaving the hospital. Media coverage had died down after there was nothing new to report. You only had the dedicated, private journalists outside. But seems as no one knew the faces of the people who had been kidnapped, no one would really notice them. They signed a paper that simply stated they would not reveal the existence or location of the ward they had been in and to not talk about the staff member's jobs so that the area could be kept secretive. They weren't allowed to talk about these subjects in public, in private, in social media, in court, etcetera, otherwise they would be sued and charged with fraud and breaching the terms of contract.

Ryan and Rhys finally got to call home for the first time in a week; one called their girlfriend and the other called their brother. The Scotsman was much less emotional than Ryan during the conversations. Rhys told his girlfriend that he would probably stay with Ryan for a little while until the trial had been completed. She understood and told him that she was missing him. Ryan broke down crying on the phone, his brother Nathen trying to comfort him the entire time. There was one important question that Ryan needed to ask: did Baz's family know how he died?

No. Not precisely, anyway.

And the second most important question: how were his cats?

"What? Did you really think I'd let them starve to death while you were gone, mate?" Nathen joked. Ryan managed a small laugh.

"So, you can come and pick me up though? I can get on the train to go home; I just need someone to get me from the station."

"Of course, I can! Does Rhys, Will and Lewis need a lift too, mate?"

He doesn't know everything... "Rhys might. Will and Lewis are... err, in a coma right now."

"Oh, f***. Sorry, Ryan."

"Nah, it's okay. Just be there at eleven."

"I won't be late. Love you, bro."

Ryan said his goodbyes and ended the call, the action seeming strangely painful. He and Rhys packed their bags and followed Will to his new room where he could recover from the injuries he had sustained. The staff in the witness protection ward stood in the reception, giving the pair death glares that followed them as they walked. The dark clothing that they wore, along with their stance, made it look like they were attending a funeral. The professor was nowhere to be seen. Rhys opened the door for Ryan, who stepped through. As the Scotsman turned to leave, he stuck up his middle finger and smirked at Mac. This isn't over, his green eyes said.

I never said it was, Mac's eyes responded.

Will had a room to his own, extremely spacious and airy with large windows. It was nice to see sunlight after so long. The room had grey, plastic flooring with whitewashed walls. A TV hung on the wall and a desk for recording vitals was set off to the side with a white board above it, the nurses having written a welcome message for Will when he woke up. He would have his own bathroom and his phone on a bedside table, ready to be used. A few chairs were stacked against the back wall for when visitors would come. The staff on this ward seemed extremely kind and caring. But then again, so did Mac at first.