A/N: Hello! Sorry this chapter took a bit later than usual. It has been quite the week so far. Anyways, as promised, this is the last hospital chapter, but it will definitely not be the last chapter. I think/hope you'll like what comes next, but for now, enjoy what happens right...now!

Kelso was staring at the cast on Hyde's leg as if he had x-ray vision. "So they put metal pins and stuff in it?"

"Yup," Hyde answered.

"Does that make you part robot?"

"Pretty much."

"That's so sweet. Man, you gotta, like, put some magnets up to your leg and see if they stick."

Fez shook his head. "Kelso, you idiot. The plaster will get in the way. You have to wait until the cast comes off before we stick magnets to Hyde."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, I totally get that. Science and stuff."

Angie shook her head. Kelso was gorgeous, and could be very sweet, but...sometimes he was a little much to handle.

Eric had come to keep Hyde company every day so far, but for the other three in the room, this was their first time visiting since the night of the surgery. Right before the robot talk had begun, Angie had started thinking how she'd want to sign the cast. Should she just sign her name? Should she write a heartfelt message? A burn?

"Hey, Hyde, I've got what I'm going to do all planned out," Kelso said, referring to his turn with the marker.

Hyde shook his head. "No."

"I didn't even say it yet!"

"Unless it's 'Michael Kelso,' the answer is no."

"Aww, come on! What do you think I'm going to do?"

"Oh, gee. Forman, what do you think he's going to do?" Hyde tilted his head in Eric's direction.

"Well, Hyde, I think our friend Kelso here is going to draw you two lovely breasts, that's right, two for the price of one."

Kelso crossed his arms. "I was not going to draw a rack."

"Pot leaf?" Hyde asked.

"Damn it!"

"Angie, supervise your boyfriend."

Kelso rolled his eyes, but wrote just his name. Angie was sure of that - she did supervise. He did whisper something to Fez that made him laugh, though...she decided she wasn't going ask about that. Fez wrote his signature, and Angie grabbed the marker from him before he could do anything more. In the end, she way over thought what her own message should be, and settled for "get well soon" followed by her name. She mentally kicked herself for being unoriginal.

"Hey, Ang," Hyde said while she wrote, "WB told me that you pirouetted youself into needing stitches as a kid."

Did her dad really have to tell that story? "Okay, so I'm not a dancer. But I could theorize circles around a ballerina any day." In her book, being a math major was just as impressive as being a dancer. Everyone had different strengths, and hers just happened to be in a classroom and not onstage. Or in rooms full of expensive vases and knick knacks.

"How's that new car treatin' you?" There was something strange about his tone.

"You know, it's...good. It drives." She felt guilty, since her present was still intact.

Kelso wasn't one for subtlety or subtext, though. "Oh, it's killer, man. Drives smooth as...uh...something that's smooth."

"Butter," Eric replied, as Fez simultaneously provided his own answer-

"Marshmallow fluff!"

"So..." Hyde mindlessly fiddled with the edge of his sling. "Kelso, Angie, did you see what kind of shape the motorcycle was in after...?"

"Yeah, it was practically broken as you are, dude," Kelso supplied.

Hyde rolled his eyes. "Good one."

Angie knew it wasn't really a joke, though. They'd both seen it afterwards. She couldn't bring herself to examine it carefully, but Kelso tried to keep his cool by playing cop and taking it all in. She thought he regretted that decision, because afterwards he was pretty shaken up. Kelso had a surprising sensitive side.

"Man, I need to get out of here," Hyde continued. "I'm starting to forget what the sky looks like."

"It's been, like, four days," Eric reasoned.

"The whole thing is a scam. They keep you here as long as possible to make a buck, and they make it sound good because they're doctors, so they're in this elite sociological sphere that prevents discussion with the layman-"

Eric cut off the paranoid rant. "Or...and try to stick with me here: doctors aren't trying to screw you over."

Hyde shook his head, lamenting, "Forman, you're so naive. Of course they are, they're part of the establishment."

"What establishment?"

Hyde gestured vaguely. "The institution. The medical establishment. I told you, it's the social elite, man. Doctors, lawyers, guys with PhDs who wear ties for a living. They're all a part of it, because they can get away with whatever they want."

"Okay." Eric laughed that know-it all chuckle of his. "I think you've been hitting the button a little too hard, man." He pointed at the pain control pump, which lay on the bed.

Fez perked up. "Are you saying this whole time you've had a magic button that gets you high?"

"Nah, man. I'm sober as hell. It's a real tragedy."

Fez slumped back down, and Kelso patted his back. "It's okay, little buddy, we can hit the circle when we get home."

"Goody!"

With the day of Hyde's release quickly approaching, his doctor came in to talk about what he'd need to do once he got out. Kitty took it upon herself to join them.

"So clearly you're not going to be walking with that broken leg," the doctor said. No shit, Sherlock, Hyde couldn't help but thinking. "Normally, you know, we'd just put someone on crutches with a break like that, but with your arm in a sling, the clearest option to me is a wheelchair."

Yeah, no. That would not work. "Pass."

Kitty looked at him. "Sweetheart, you can't pass. I don't think he's giving you options."

He turned to the doctor. "Do I have options?"

The doctor threw up his hand. "You can try using just one crutch on the left, but I think you'll get tired of that pretty quickly, especially with the fractured rib on that side-"

"I'll do the crutch."

"Steven..." Kitty started.

The doctor adressed Kitty, "I'll send him home with both." Do whatever you want, pal, Hyde thought, but I'll do what I want. The man looked at his clipboard. "I'll perscribe some painkillers, too; you'll want those for a while." He looked up. "The bottle will have instructions on how often to take them, but, just a reminder, don't drink any alcohol while you're on them."

Was there any silver lining to this? "You're killing me." And then he remembered that his foster mother was next to him. Ah, screw it, at least he was legal to drink now. As soon as he was off the medicine, he was going to have to have a kegger to celebrate. Now, there was an idea. He'd have Kelso take care of that.

Somehow Hyde hadn't thought much of what would happen after he was let out besides simply enjoying his freedom, and repeatedly picturing redoing the ride, and doing it right this time. Now, listening to the doctor talk, he was realizing a lot of things. Like, what the hell was he supposed to do about stairs? And showering? And driving? The doctor had answers for every question, many not good enough to lift his mood. Hyde didn't like being in positions like this. He wasn't pitying himself, but he didn't want to think about the weeks ahead. How much help he'd need. Right now, he was regretting not coming clean to WB about his total lack of experiece in the bike department. Hyde had screwed up plenty of things, sure, but he couldn't remember ever before doing something with such lasting (and annoying) consequences. He'd really messed up this time. There was a chorus of voices in his head chanting "I told you so." He sighed and told himself that at least one day he'd be able to spin this into a badass story.

The doctor had someone bring in a single crutch, and held it out in front of his patient. "Let's give it a go. Get you on your feet." He talked Hyde through how to use the crutch, and Hyde put the "crash" into "crash course."

Despite the pain, discomfort, and initial embarassment, it felt good to move. "Think the Tiny Tim look is in?" Hyde joked with a grimace as he hobbled, indeed looking like the Christmas Story character.

"You'll get the hang of it."

Finally, the day of Hyde's release came. The papers were signed, and freedom was his...as soon as he was in the basement and away from the hovering of his parental figures. At least Red was waiting outside with the car, and not inside adding to the chaos. How had he gone from from two parents, to one, to none, back to just Bud for a second, to two, to three? It was getting hard to keep track. WB and Eric had been hanging out with him while Kitty finished work, and they waited for the official okay to high-tail it out of there. Hyde was dressed and ready to go. Granted, he was dressed in gym shorts thanks to the stupid cast, but no point bitching about that. He hadn't expected to be bringing back the Point Place Vikngs gym shorts, but it looked no dumber than jeans with one leg hacked off, which was the other option. There was no way to make a cast and sling look cool, but he liked to think the ACDC shirt didn't hurt. No matter what, ditching the hospital gown was a definite step up.

Although Hyde was Team Crutch, it was hospital policy to have a nurse wheel out all discharged patients to the front of the hospital to meet their ride home. Hence, he found himself in a wheelchair. Forman had rolled him to the window so he could wax sentimental about the last time he had fresh air and to monologue about the anticipation of feeling it again. "What's that?" He pointed out the window.

"Why, Little Orphan Boy," Eric pretended to be choked up, "that's a cloud."

"Wow! And that?"

"That's the sun."

Forman and Hyde did enjoy their little routines. WB rolled his eyes at them.

The doctor came in to bid Hyde adieu, and they were given the green light to head out. WB grabbed the handles of the wheelchair, and started for the door, when Kitty came in. "Today's a big day," she chirped. "Steven, are you excited?"

"Yeah," he scoffed at how obvious the answer was. "Does anyone ever say no to that question?"

Kitty tilted her head. "Not really, I suppose. It's just a nice thing to ask." Then, she noticed WB pushing the wheelchair. "Oh, I can do that!" She made a grab for the handles.

"That's fine," WB said, pulling it back slightly.

"No, really. I am a nurse. It's my job." She laughed nervously and successfully grabbed both handles.

"I didn't mind," WB said, sounding laid back, but retaking the handles.

"Oh, just let me do it!" Now it was Kitty's turn to once again try to take control.

Great, Hyde was in a game of tug of war. An image popped into his head of one of those package warnings that read fragile, do not shake. He offered, "I could walk."

"No!" both parents said in unison.

Hyde quickly retreated. "Okay."

"I got it." Forman swooped in and grabbed the handles, and neither WB or Kitty protested. They must have realized how they sounded.

Hyde smirked. "Thanks, Florence Nightingale."

"No problem, Dr. Strangelove."

All four got into the elevator, and once he pressed the button for the first floor, Forman pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to his injured friend: a pair of aviator sunglasses. The elavator door opened, and, the facing the floor to ceiling windows that opened to the parking lot, Hyde put on his shades and smiled.

A/N: He's free! I was THIS close to making a reference to another curly haired orphan right at the end there ("the sun'll come out tomorrow!") So close. Screw it, if you're reading this now you know I've decided to make that the chapter title. ANYWAYS, I have a lot of things planned for the next chapter, so expect it very soon. Thank you so much for reading, review if you like, and have a fantastic day!