Or it was supposed to be. A few days ago Waylon brought the boys to hospital, standard check up, but they'd both been a little under the weather with all the moving and getting their new place set up. Thankfully it didn't seem like anything serious.
After that he dropped the boys back off at home with Lisa, who was still working hard going through the rest of the unopened boxes. All the little knickknacks that made a place a home. Then it was off to work, he was the new guy so of course he had to be the last one out, close things up. "New kid" hazing or something, who knows. Waylon doesn't mind, everyone has been pretty nice so far and if he's gotta be it for the first week or so, he can manage.
Locking up he'll pull out the keys for his car, phone in the other hand. Just checking texts from Lisa, asking what he wants for dinner. She's caving in and ordering something, because they're all pooped from unpacking and the last thing she wants to do is cook. Waylon smiles, starting to type an answer.
Let the boys pick.
But he doesn't get to hit send. Out of no where a pair of headlights blind him and the last thing he remembers is being hit. Hard. Thrown to the ground, vision blurring as pain blooms in his side and leg. The dark vision of a person stepping out of the car before he passes out.]
Nurse AU @ killyourdarlings
Or it was supposed to be. A few days ago Waylon brought the boys to hospital, standard check up, but they'd both been a little under the weather with all the moving and getting their new place set up. Thankfully it didn't seem like anything serious.
After that he dropped the boys back off at home with Lisa, who was still working hard going through the rest of the unopened boxes. All the little knickknacks that made a place a home. Then it was off to work, he was the new guy so of course he had to be the last one out, close things up. "New kid" hazing or something, who knows. Waylon doesn't mind, everyone has been pretty nice so far and if he's gotta be it for the first week or so, he can manage.
Locking up he'll pull out the keys for his car, phone in the other hand. Just checking texts from Lisa, asking what he wants for dinner. She's caving in and ordering something, because they're all pooped from unpacking and the last thing she wants to do is cook. Waylon smiles, starting to type an answer.
Let the boys pick.
But he doesn't get to hit send. Out of no where a pair of headlights blind him and the last thing he remembers is being hit. Hard. Thrown to the ground, vision blurring as pain blooms in his side and leg. The dark vision of a person stepping out of the car before he passes out.]