Doctor Who
by Tyloric

Beta read by the lovely youroctober.

Chapter 3

"So I'm sick?" Billy asked curiously.

Dr. Badeau nodded. "In a sense, yes."

Billy leaned back against the hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling, letting the thoughts run through his head. "So I really did go insane," he muttered, but not loud enough for Badeau to hear.

"What's that?"

He sat back up, ignoring the doctor's question. "How long before I'm better?"

There was a look that crossed over Badeau's face, a look he didn't like at all. Billy quickly recognized it as sympathy, and he, for some reason, had to fight not to scowl. "We don't know. Days. Months. Years. If you do at all."

Billy frowned. "So I might not remember everything?"

"That is a possibility, yes."

"Hmm." He sat back again. He was having trouble forming thoughts. It was like having something to say, but the moment you tried to say it, you forget what it is. He was missing something, something obvious. He just couldn't place it.

"That man that came in earlier, with the hammer on his shirt," Billy started.

Dr. Badeau shifted uncomfortably. "Yes?"

"He called me… Dr. Horrible. Why? That's not my name… is it?"

The older man looked taken back, and he hesitated before responding. "Why don't… Why don't you just focus on getting well for now?" He turned to leave.

Billy watched as he departed, confused.

"There are nurses just outside if you should need anything," Badeau called over his shoulder.

***

The following weeks were filled with tedious task after tedious task. Billy was monitored around the clock, though the doctors and nurses wouldn't admit it. Mornings were filled with the same questions of "did he remember anything new?", "any strange dreams or sensations (what does that even mean?)?", and all other sorts of meaningless inquiries.

A therapist would come in everyday just before lunch and they would… talk. About nothing. Billy usually just stared at her until she left, and to be honest, the lady didn't seem to mind that one bit.

After the first week, Dr. Badeau cleared him to be able to move around the hospital, a freedom Billy was grateful for… if it had been freedom. He was always escorted, or followed, or monitored in some way, and every so often he would find someone throwing him an ugly glance. Or looking at him strangely.

'They're scared of me,' he realized. But why? No one seemed to be willing to answer his questions. Anytime he would ask about who he was, be it a doctor or that stupid therapist, they would quickly find a way to change the topic or just outright ignore him altogether, and it was quickly escalating past the point of irritation.

He started returning peoples' looks with one of his own. He rationalized that it was only fair. He stopped asking questions entirely, and became very secluded. He started watching the news, and only the news, when he was in his hospital room alone.

He would watch how people seemed to be suffering today. He took no pleasure in it, but nor did it disgust him. Rather, he found himself studying the stories and the images before him. It also struck him as odd that there were never any happy stories, but he really didn't mind. But he also didn't understand why he had such a morbid fascination with the unfortunate, either.

Every so often Captain Hammer, as Billy learned was his name (and it was a stupid name at that), would appear on the news. His stories always seemed to be the ones that held any sort of inspirational 'goodness.' However, Billy quickly found himself becoming annoyed with the man.

The stories were always about how he had 'thwarted' some villain's plans. Or 'halted' some disaster. How he had saved someone's life from imminent danger. It was always the same thing, really, just remixed countless times. More than once Billy found himself thinking, 'What a tool.' Especially when the mayor of the city personally congratulated him. Billy was half expecting for the man to eventually award the 'good' captain with a key to the city, only to discover later that he had done that quite some time ago.

And then, one day, Captain Hammer actually appeared at his door when the therapist was supposed to. For some reason, Billy wasn't surprised. Merely intrigued. The man in question, however, didn't look very happy. In fact, his eyes were narrowed dangerously.

He lifted up a plastic bag he was carrying, and tossed it at Billy. "Put these on," he said simply.

Billy looked inside the bag, pulling out blue jeans, a grey t-shirt, a blue hoody, and some worn white sneakers and socks.

He met Captain Hammer's gaze, confused. "Why?"

"You're coming with me."

"With you?"

"Yes."

Billy hesitated. "Alone?"

"Yes," he sighed.

He looked at the captain for a long moment before saying, very carefully, "I don't want to."

The hero looked taken aback, "What? Why not?"

"You're weird."

"Weird? Me?"

Billy nodded. "Yes. You."

His eyes narrowed again. "I'm not weird."

"Yeah you are. And you talk kinda funny."

"What?"

"Yeah, like you can't not shout."

Irritation played Hammer's features. "I do not talk funny!"

Billy nodded in a mater-of-fact way. "Yeah you do. And you're always walking like you have something shoved up your—"

"Put on the clothes!" Captain Hammer growled, causing Billy to frown.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, you have to."

Now, a wiser man would have listened. A wiser man would have listened to the two-hundred and fifty pound wall of solid muscle capable punching through a ton of bricks. Billy didn't seem to be that man. He looked at the hero, then back to the clothes on his bed, and back to Hammer before asking, "Or what?"

Anger flashed on his face now, and just as Captain Hammer was going to yell at him, a voice from behind the hero spoke, "Yes, Captain Hammer. Or what?" The captain halted, turning around sharply. Dr. Badeau was standing at his full height, back straight, arms crossed, glaring at Captain Hammer challengingly.

The captain stared menacingly at Badeau for a long moment, mulling over whether or not he should respond to the challenge.

Then Captain Hammer did something Billy didn't expect: he relented. He turned back to Billy with a strained look on his face, and an emotion he couldn't identify. "Please."

Billy regarded Hammer for a good minute, wondering where this was coming from. He wanted to know why the hero would want anything to do with him, what made him so important.

Eventually, he let out an over-exaggerated sigh. "Fine." Grabbing the bag of clothes, he sauntered off to the bathroom in the back of the room. Before he closed the door, he added, "You have to buy me a hamburger, though."

Hammer sighed again. "Fine."

Billy grinned triumphantly, closing the door and locking it behind him.

"What are you doing?" Dr. Badeau hissed.

Hammer grinned at him sarcastically. "Helping."

"You're coming in here and taking a patient out of this hospital without even consulting me first. He has an advanced case of amnesia, and you call this helping?"

"Trust me, doc."

Badeau groaned, "This is exactly what I meant when I said you never think rules apply to you. You could be causing even more damage by taking him outside."

"Well, to my knowledge, keeping him here isn't doing too much, either. So what harm could possibly come from letting him get some fresh air?" The hero was wearing a cocky smile, sticking out his chest.

"What are you really doing here, Hammer? What is it you truly hope to accomplish?"

Hammer's eyes darkened slightly, his posture drooping, "Just need to make sure of something."

"Make sure of what?" the doctor queried.

He gave Badeau a pained smile. "Trust me."

Pinching the skin between his eyes, the former hero regarded Hammer for a long while. "Just… try not to hurt him anymore than he already is. Can you promise me that much?"

"I can."

"I truly hope you know what you're doing," Badeau muttered as he reluctantly left the room, leaving Billy to his fate. He only hoped that this wasn't a mistake.

~tbc.