About 30 minutes later, Mike has moved to sit beside Will's bed.

Frankie is still passed out.

Will is staring into nothingness with a look of pure terror, but nobody seems to notice his look until he speaks up.

"I'm sorry," Will brokenly stammers.

"What? W-What do you mean, sweetie?" Joyce frowns.

Mike shifts his eyes to the scene, looking at Will with a suspicious look.

"He made me do it," Will insists with a shudder.

Joyce reachers over to comfortably stroke one of the boys arms. Mike begins to connect the dots, now realizing what Frankie was screaming and yelling about.

"Who? Who made you do what?" Joyce confusedly questions.

"I told you," Will blankly says. "They upset him. They shouldn't have done that. They shouldn't have upset him."

(Ben Drowned is quaking.)

Mike stares in pure horror at the boy, completely understanding the situation now.

"The spy," He dumbly states. "THE SPY!"

Mike jumps out of his chair in a hurry, rushing towards the exit doors. Of course, the guards hold him back as he screams.

"I NEED TO GET THROUGH! ITS A TRAP!"

Bob rushes to stop the boy, restraining him with his arms.

"ITS A TRAP, I NEED TO WARN THEM, ITS A TRAP," Mike shouts.

Meanwhile, Joyce is leaned over the hospital bed, doing her best to understand what the hell her son is saying. She's practically in tears from the confusion and sense of dread.

"Will, sweets, talk to me. You've got to help me understand," Joyce begs with a broken voice.

"It's too late!" Will sobs.

Suddenly his face goes blank, and he glances in the direction of Frankie's sleeping body.

"You should go now," he mutters, still looking at Frankie. "Don't forget to take her. Don't forget her."

His head rolls back to face Joyce, almost completely void of emotion.

"They're almost here."

Alarms begin to blare.