In a way, you’re relieved that Taylor asked your help for something he could do by himself. For one, you’re glad there’s no animosity between you. It's like you've wound up shunning your usual friends – Caleb, Keith, Jenny, Yumi, Carson and James – and the last thing you want is to burn bridges with Taylor, who is turning out to be your most constant friend. But his request also reinforces your desire to use magic for good, to set an example to your brother.
Which reminds you: Taylor said that this "Sawyer Harrison" fell into a coma after putting on a mask. What if a mask you make with that sigil does the same sort of thing? What if your brother, so eager to test a new toy, fell into a coma too? What would you tell your mother? No, what would you tell your father?
Your dad. Who may or may not be an evil clone under Blackwell’s control, you remind yourself.
But you're drifting, and Scott has to shake you back to the present. "Hey, Will! You alright?"
"Oh, sorry", you tell him. "It’s nothing. Just a stray thought." You gather your wits. "Sure, let’s go help that friend of yours. Um, I'll catch up to you in the parking lot", you add. Scott claps you on the arm and with a smile plunges back into the crowd of students.
After he goes, you to pull out your phone and text your brother: [working on the plan], you tell him. [I'll call u if there’s a change.]
His reply comes a little later, when you're outside approaching Scott's truck: [fine butt mke it quik.]
A change seems to have come over Scott in the meantime. "Something up?", he asks in hard voice, and his face is red. He nods at your phone.
"Just a text from my brother", you tell him. "You know what brothers are like."
Scott's lips compress and whiten, but he doesn't reply. You wonder if you said something wrong, but don't press it.
--
It's a short drive out to Hochstetter All Saints Hospital, a grim and grimy brick monstrosity built in the Gothic style—tall, narrow windows and fluted spires, with a square tower thrusting skyward between two wings—that some people like to call "Arkham" on account of its foreboding demeanor. But the main reception area is cool, clean, modern and very white, and the nurse at the front desk gives you and Scott a friendly look over her glasses as she returns a phone to its cradle. "Hello, how may I help you?"
Scott's mood has brightened in the meantime, and he quietly asks for Sawyer Harrison's room number. The receptionist gives it to him, and reminds him that visiting hours end at eight o'clock. Scott is nervous and silent on the elevator ride up to the fourth floor.
But almost instantly after you step out of the elevator, Scott grabs you and pulls you back.
"That's Harrison's mom talking to that doctor", he mutters. "Don't look", he adds as you glance down the hallway to where a flustered woman is jabbering at a man in a white coat. "Shit. I'm gonna have to distract her. You get in and get the mask off Sawyer."
"You're better at getting masks off than me!"
"And I know his mom, I'm a better decoy. Come on." He grips you by the arm and pushes you down the hall.
Sawyer's mother is a dumpy, pear-shaped woman with long brown hair. Her face is white and grave, and her eyes are red and puffy. She clenches a crumpled Kleenex in her fist and holds it to her nose as she listens to the doctor.
"Mrs. Harrison", Scott says as you walk up to her, but she doesn't immediately react. "Mrs. Harrison," he repeats when he's at her elbow. She turns with a distracted frown, and does a slight double take at him.
"Oh, Scott", she says, and smiles faintly. "Are you here to—?" Her eyes widen. "Are you alright? Is everything okay with your family?"
"We're all fine", Scott says. "I came up to see Sawyer."
Mrs. Harrison stares, then seems to fold up inside her. She smiles, but she also looks like she's about to burst into tears.
"That's so sweet of you", she says. "Not many of his friends come out nowadays. He'll be so—" She catches herself, and blinks back tears.
"And this is Will", Scott adds, half-turning to indicate you. "Friend of mine from school. Will, Sawyer's mom."
Mrs. Harrison's face relaxes into a wide but tired smile. "It's nice to meet you, Will. Did you know— Do you know Sawyer?"
"No. But, uh, Scott was telling me about him, and I said I'd come with him to visit."
"That's so nice of you."
You take her limp, outstretched hand and give it a gentle shake. It gives you a guilty ache for some reason to see her so relieved that someone—that anyone—came up to visit her son. Or is it an ache of pleasure you feel, the anticipation of doing something to help your friend and for this heartbroken woman? Whatever the reason, your gullet is doing backflips.
Sawyer nudges you. "How about you go in. I want to talk to Mrs. Harrison some more."
"Is that okay?", you ask Mrs. Harrison. She nods and continues to smile at you. The doctor, you notice, has moved on.
The hospital room is small and rather dingy, and there's a faint smell of decay in the air. Most of the floor is taken up by a large bed, angled up, holding an emaciated kid with strawberry-blonde hair. His features give the impression of being squashed between his brow and his chin. It's almost like he's smirking in his sleep.
But he's not alone. Sitting in a chair on the other side of him is a girl. As she glances up you see the resemblance between her and the boy in the bed, and between her and the woman outside. Long hair and a pear-shaped figure in one case, and narrow eyes and freckled features in the other.
"Who are you?", she demands.
"My name's Will", you stammer, for you weren't expecting another obstacle to o'erleap. "I came up here with a friend of Sawyer's."
The girl's expression tightens. "Sawyer didn't have many friends."
Her retort is so sharp and sudden you are thrown for a loss. "It's Scott Bickelmeir", you explain.
Her eyes snap into flame at the name. "Oh. So he finally has the guts to come up here! The bastard!"
Worse and worse! "Is something wrong?"
The girl stands up and stares past you into the hall. The muscles in her cheek work. For a moment you think she's going to charge past you. But she turns back to you.
"Yeah." The girl crosses her arms, fuming. "Scott’s the one to blame for all the shit that happened to my brother. You said you're friends with him?"
"Well ... yeah."
She winces. "Then I don't want to get into it. But did he tell you what happened?"
"Maybe you could tell me." You feel like you're picking your way through a minefield. And what will happen if Scott comes in?
The girl makes a face, and it's a long minute before she answers.
"Well, it happened up at school", she says. "You go to Eastman, right?"
"Westside."
She looks startled. "Oh. I thought I've seen you around at school. My name's Belinda, by the way."
"Will", you introduce yourself again.
"Well, so it all happened at the end of summer", she says. "The short version is that Sawyer went up to the school with some friends and they were goofing off, and they did something and the next thing my brother's in a coma." Tears threaten to well up in her eyes. "And Sawyer was one of the friends who was up there with him!"
"I'm sorry. Um, did Scott tell you how it happened? How your brother—?"
"No! That's what's so crappy about this. We didn't even know he was up there with Sawyer. He bugged out, left all the blame on his friend Taylor!"
"Taylor Mitchell?"
"Oh, you knew Taylor?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Huh." Belinda glares. "Well, anyway, Scott bugged out and left all the blame on Taylor, which was pretty convenient, because, you know, Taylor was in that car wreck." She sniffs hard, and you can tell she's about to lose it. "And it wasn't until a week ago that he finally worked up the guts to come tell my parents that he was up at the school with ... with ... Sawyer ... that day!"
She thrusts her face into the crook of her arm, and her shoulders shake. You freeze all over, wondering if you should touch her or hold her to try making her feel better.
Fortunately, Belinda recovers herself pretty quickly, though her face is red and tear-stained when she lifts it again, and her nose and eyes are runny. "And this is the first time", she says in a haggard voice, "that he's even been up to see Sawyer!"
Okay, now you can see why Taylor wanted you to come up to the hospital with him. He must have been carrying around a huge amount of guilt, and even if he wasn't worried about running into the family again, he would have wanted your emotional support.
"Well, I've got a few more things I want to tell him, if he's outside", Belinda says, and now she does step around you to stride toward the door.
This is your chance – while Belinda is outside, you can try taking off the mask that Sawyer is probably wearing.
But that will leave him alone with Belinda. Maybe you should go out to try acting as a buffer.
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