( wow, eddie is just in heaven, isn't he? his dutiful, lovely, bonny wife is eating the dish he prepared for her, taking delicate bites as not to upset appearances [or her stomach, but that's less important]. while she eats, eddie smiles and does the things that all good men do, like check her vitals and dab the sweat from her brow with a cloth. )
My darling, you'll heal so quickly, you won't even know it. You'll be back to your delicate, beautiful self in no time... Aren't you looking forward to it? To being whole? To being with me? Being safe and nurtured away from the wickedness of the world? Here, nothing can harm you. You'll be filled, and loved. The emptiness inside of you won't cry out to me for much longer...
( where else would waylon be? where else could he be? with no family to return to, and a world who thinks he's either missing or dead, he's better off staying right here by eddie's side. )
As promised, a mild sedative to help you rest... This will pinch, my love. Apologies. But soon, you'll feel nothing at all.
[By the time Eddie has considered him fed enough Waylon is beyond miserable. He just wants to feel nothing.]
Yes—
[His voice wavers, let's not start weeping again, c'mon Waylon. The yes could be an answer to Eddie's questions, but maybe Waylon is just looking forward to being healed. To not hurting anymore. Or it's the sedative he's happy for. He doesn't even feel it, but looks at the man who seems so eager to care for him.]
Thank you...
[For giving him some reprieve from the pain. Sleep blessedly doesn't take long to come after that. For some days that's how it goes. The pain is too much for him to sleep on his own, Eddie has to sedate him to give him any real rest. Waylon doesn't know how many days he's been here, at least not at first. After some time he's able to start figuring out ways to keep track of it.
The times Eddie comes down, the extended periods of time when he's not here, must be at the hospital, must be working... when he's home and taking care of his needs. It becomes a pretty set schedule more or less. Except on Eddie's days off. He sees much more of him then.
Honestly he's started to prefer his presence, because left to his own thoughts he might just go crazy. Sometimes he's left in silence and that's the worst, other times Eddie leaves programs on for him, old black and white tv shows with the perfect nuclear families and the doting wife and hard working husband. Usually at least one child if not a daughter and a son. Studious god fearing people. He's memorized some of the episodes by now, it seems to depend on how Eddie feels that day which show he has him watch, which episodes he leaves him with. Some he's only seen once, other multiple. Does it mean anything?
The pain has lessoned enough that he can shift on the bed some, even lay on his side if he wants, which is nice. He's always been a filthy side sleeper. Waylon is pretty sure he's been here at least three weeks... probably a little more than that, but that's just a rough guess from what he thinks are the days going by. He's close. More like a month.]
... how was work?
[It's dinner time again, Eddie always brings him down dinner on a tray in his apron. His mind thinks it's so nice of his husband to do this for him while he's healing... wait his husband? No— no that's just what Eddie calls himself, they're not... Waylon skewers a piece of chicken on his fork with some green beans, before bringing them to his mouth. He can much more easily sit up on his own now too, feed himself. Though Eddie still will dotingly wipe at his face if he happens to make a mess.]
You've been late the last few nights, are they short staffed?
Oh, always. Margery, the useless cunt, calls off whenever she pleases. Five new admissions, three new hires from the agency who don't know their pretty little heads from a collection of holes in the ground... But you don't want to hear any of that. The details of caregiving would bore you to tears, I'm sure.
( it's been beautiful to watch his love grow better by the day. like watching a plant sprout from a seed, each new day sees waylon taller and stronger than the day before. he'd like to take some credit, but every good nurse knows that it takes more the medicine and well wishes for a patient to get better.
it's waylon's drive to see them as a family unit that mends his bones better than before.
eddie hardly has to assist waylon with his meals these days. he misses the days when his wife was wholly and utterly dependent on him, but he loves to see how far she's come. he loves her, as every man should love their beloved. )
After you've finished your meal, we'll bathe you. It's time. You're beautiful, but I imagine you're positively grimy beneath those bedclothes of yours. Afterwards, we'll watch a nice film while I take your measurements. Snow White feels suitable, but a tale of a slutty woman who shares her home with seven slovenly men isn't the kind of message I'd force upon you.
[Weirdly enough, even though Eddie thinks it would bore him, he'd rather he did talk about his work more. It gave him less time to say other things. Like them having a family and how Waylon will be so good at caring for their children, he's seen how good he is with them after all.
With his boys... Waylon swallows down any thoughts of them for now. Getting upset won't make things any easier for him here. That much he's figured out. His head lifts from where he's started to stare off at his dinner absently, blinking a bit owlishly.]
My measurements? Oh... guess I can't stay in this hospital gown forever. I could give you my clothing sizes.
[Though Waylon wonders if they would be accurate now. He's definitely lost weight since coming here. Not that Eddie is starving him or anything, but his appetite hasn't been the best with his injuries and the pain.
He doesn't question the bath, a bath sounds divine honestly. He's been kept down here for weeks and while Eddie has done a little clean up here and there, with a warm washcloth and hands that still surprise him with how gentle they can be... it's not the same as a shower or bath. Being able to wash his hair would be so wonderful.]
Hm... I didn't see it that way, she was a kind young woman who helped them be better. Took care of them.
[Let's be real, Snow White was still a child too, but shh we won't talk about that. Waylon eats a little more, mopping up the gravy on his plate with his chicken.]
She'd lost everything and just wanted to live, they gave her that safe place to do that.
[Deep discussions of Disney princesses in the Gluskin household.]
( eddie will indulge his beloved in any whimsical topic she chooses. whether it be the constitution of disney princess, ghosts and goblins, or the fate of what he's come to know as waylon's 'previous' family, eddie is open to every silly, inconsequential, useless, grating, hideous, knobby-kneed, flat-chested, split-ended, high-waisted thought named lisa park that pops into waylon's head, even if the syllables make eddie want to drive a blade through his darling's chest.
after all, to be a man in love is to suffer.
understandably, disney talk is more palatable by comparison. )
My love, it's only natural that you'd see things that way. You're a good woman with a good heart. It's a gift and a curse. It makes you have trouble seeing things for what they are... but I can help you.
( case in point: had waylon been a worldly woman, she might have seen eddie's car coming from miles away before it ran him over she walked in front of it. her innocence is a draw more than anything. eddie finds it sweet that waylon finds meaning in the story of snow white, even if she is completely and utterly wrong. she's like a child who's mispronounced something, but is too adorable to correct.
when it seems like waylon's finished the majority of his meal, eddie seats his plate aside and gingerly hoists him into his arms. perhaps they'll work on crutches, or a wheelchair in the future, but eddie thinks walking lessons can wait until waylon isn't, as his mother would say, grimy. )
It's a shame that you haven't seen the rest of our home sooner. I felt it more important for you to regain your strength rather than bog you down with doors and hallways... but, well, better late than never.
( carrying waylon up from the basement to the first floor is easy work for a big, strong man like eddie. the living room and kitchen they pass are idyllic, with a newspaper resting by a burning fire and a kettle of tea simmering quietly on an immaculate stove. beyond the backdoor, maybe, waylon might see mounds of freshly turned soil, but never mind that.
the centerpiece of the living room, naturally, is a giant gown in a half-state of completion. )
[Excuse you? Lisa is a beautiful and kind woman, how dare you? But Waylon has been mostly good about that... mostly. He's asked a few more times since his first waking day about his family, about Lisa. The boys. The fire Eddie spoke about, but it always makes him tense, annoyed, upset.
He stopped asking because he can't even be sure if what Eddie does tell him is true or not. Something to placate him or make him think he has nothing but his captor to lean on. It's easier to do his best to stay in Eddie's good graces and heal. Believe that his family is okay, that they're even looking for him all this time. They have to be okay. They have to.]
Right. Of course...
[It's ironic that Eddie says Waylon has trouble seeing things for what they are considering the situation. The man is deluded, insane he's sure. Why do this to him? Surely there's some petit perfect woman out there who would be happy to live the trad wife life with this man and his old ideals of a family. Why him? Why Waylon who's a married man with two children? What did Eddie see in him that drove him to this madness?
As Eddie hoists him into his arms, carries him upstairs, there's a twist in his gut. Finally he gets to see more of this place that has become his prison. This is his chance to learn more, see exits to the home, possible ways out when he can better move on his own. Though he's more caught off guard by how... impeccable it all is, what he sees of it. Everything in it's place. Everything put out with clear intentions of how things should look.
Then the dress. Or part of a dress. No. A gown. The realization of what it's meant to be hits him and Waylon feels such a strange mix of feelings about it. He can't even put his finger on them, but a thought rings out loud. That's for me. A loud thought in his head. That's what the measurements are for.]
Will you let me stay up here with you soon?
[Some what distracted sounding as his eyes stay locked on that dress until it's out of sight.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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My darling, you'll heal so quickly, you won't even know it. You'll be back to your delicate, beautiful self in no time... Aren't you looking forward to it? To being whole? To being with me? Being safe and nurtured away from the wickedness of the world? Here, nothing can harm you. You'll be filled, and loved. The emptiness inside of you won't cry out to me for much longer...
( where else would waylon be? where else could he be? with no family to return to, and a world who thinks he's either missing or dead, he's better off staying right here by eddie's side. )
As promised, a mild sedative to help you rest... This will pinch, my love. Apologies. But soon, you'll feel nothing at all.
no subject
Yes—
[His voice wavers, let's not start weeping again, c'mon Waylon. The yes could be an answer to Eddie's questions, but maybe Waylon is just looking forward to being healed. To not hurting anymore. Or it's the sedative he's happy for. He doesn't even feel it, but looks at the man who seems so eager to care for him.]
Thank you...
[For giving him some reprieve from the pain. Sleep blessedly doesn't take long to come after that. For some days that's how it goes. The pain is too much for him to sleep on his own, Eddie has to sedate him to give him any real rest. Waylon doesn't know how many days he's been here, at least not at first. After some time he's able to start figuring out ways to keep track of it.
The times Eddie comes down, the extended periods of time when he's not here, must be at the hospital, must be working... when he's home and taking care of his needs. It becomes a pretty set schedule more or less. Except on Eddie's days off. He sees much more of him then.
Honestly he's started to prefer his presence, because left to his own thoughts he might just go crazy. Sometimes he's left in silence and that's the worst, other times Eddie leaves programs on for him, old black and white tv shows with the perfect nuclear families and the doting wife and hard working husband. Usually at least one child if not a daughter and a son. Studious god fearing people. He's memorized some of the episodes by now, it seems to depend on how Eddie feels that day which show he has him watch, which episodes he leaves him with. Some he's only seen once, other multiple. Does it mean anything?
The pain has lessoned enough that he can shift on the bed some, even lay on his side if he wants, which is nice. He's always been a filthy side sleeper. Waylon is pretty sure he's been here at least three weeks... probably a little more than that, but that's just a rough guess from what he thinks are the days going by. He's close. More like a month.]
... how was work?
[It's dinner time again, Eddie always brings him down dinner on a tray in his apron. His mind thinks it's so nice of his husband to do this for him while he's healing... wait his husband? No— no that's just what Eddie calls himself, they're not... Waylon skewers a piece of chicken on his fork with some green beans, before bringing them to his mouth. He can much more easily sit up on his own now too, feed himself. Though Eddie still will dotingly wipe at his face if he happens to make a mess.]
You've been late the last few nights, are they short staffed?
no subject
( it's been beautiful to watch his love grow better by the day. like watching a plant sprout from a seed, each new day sees waylon taller and stronger than the day before. he'd like to take some credit, but every good nurse knows that it takes more the medicine and well wishes for a patient to get better.
it's waylon's drive to see them as a family unit that mends his bones better than before.
eddie hardly has to assist waylon with his meals these days. he misses the days when his wife was wholly and utterly dependent on him, but he loves to see how far she's come. he loves her, as every man should love their beloved. )
After you've finished your meal, we'll bathe you. It's time. You're beautiful, but I imagine you're positively grimy beneath those bedclothes of yours. Afterwards, we'll watch a nice film while I take your measurements. Snow White feels suitable, but a tale of a slutty woman who shares her home with seven slovenly men isn't the kind of message I'd force upon you.
no subject
With his boys... Waylon swallows down any thoughts of them for now. Getting upset won't make things any easier for him here. That much he's figured out. His head lifts from where he's started to stare off at his dinner absently, blinking a bit owlishly.]
My measurements? Oh... guess I can't stay in this hospital gown forever. I could give you my clothing sizes.
[Though Waylon wonders if they would be accurate now. He's definitely lost weight since coming here. Not that Eddie is starving him or anything, but his appetite hasn't been the best with his injuries and the pain.
He doesn't question the bath, a bath sounds divine honestly. He's been kept down here for weeks and while Eddie has done a little clean up here and there, with a warm washcloth and hands that still surprise him with how gentle they can be... it's not the same as a shower or bath. Being able to wash his hair would be so wonderful.]
Hm... I didn't see it that way, she was a kind young woman who helped them be better. Took care of them.
[Let's be real, Snow White was still a child too, but shh we won't talk about that. Waylon eats a little more, mopping up the gravy on his plate with his chicken.]
She'd lost everything and just wanted to live, they gave her that safe place to do that.
[Deep discussions of Disney princesses in the Gluskin household.]
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after all, to be a man in love is to suffer.
understandably, disney talk is more palatable by comparison. )
My love, it's only natural that you'd see things that way. You're a good woman with a good heart. It's a gift and a curse. It makes you have trouble seeing things for what they are... but I can help you.
( case in point: had waylon been a worldly woman, she might have seen eddie's car coming from miles away before
it ran him overshe walked in front of it. her innocence is a draw more than anything. eddie finds it sweet that waylon finds meaning in the story of snow white, even if she is completely and utterly wrong. she's like a child who's mispronounced something, but is too adorable to correct.when it seems like waylon's finished the majority of his meal, eddie seats his plate aside and gingerly hoists him into his arms. perhaps they'll work on crutches, or a wheelchair in the future, but eddie thinks walking lessons can wait until waylon isn't, as his mother would say, grimy. )
It's a shame that you haven't seen the rest of our home sooner. I felt it more important for you to regain your strength rather than bog you down with doors and hallways... but, well, better late than never.
( carrying waylon up from the basement to the first floor is easy work for a big, strong man like eddie. the living room and kitchen they pass are idyllic, with a newspaper resting by a burning fire and a kettle of tea simmering quietly on an immaculate stove. beyond the backdoor, maybe, waylon might see mounds of freshly turned soil, but never mind that.
the centerpiece of the living room, naturally, is a giant gown in a half-state of completion. )
no subject
He stopped asking because he can't even be sure if what Eddie does tell him is true or not. Something to placate him or make him think he has nothing but his captor to lean on. It's easier to do his best to stay in Eddie's good graces and heal. Believe that his family is okay, that they're even looking for him all this time. They have to be okay. They have to.]
Right. Of course...
[It's ironic that Eddie says Waylon has trouble seeing things for what they are considering the situation. The man is deluded, insane he's sure. Why do this to him? Surely there's some petit perfect woman out there who would be happy to live the trad wife life with this man and his old ideals of a family. Why him? Why Waylon who's a married man with two children? What did Eddie see in him that drove him to this madness?
As Eddie hoists him into his arms, carries him upstairs, there's a twist in his gut. Finally he gets to see more of this place that has become his prison. This is his chance to learn more, see exits to the home, possible ways out when he can better move on his own. Though he's more caught off guard by how... impeccable it all is, what he sees of it. Everything in it's place. Everything put out with clear intentions of how things should look.
Then the dress. Or part of a dress. No. A gown. The realization of what it's meant to be hits him and Waylon feels such a strange mix of feelings about it. He can't even put his finger on them, but a thought rings out loud. That's for me. A loud thought in his head. That's what the measurements are for.]
Will you let me stay up here with you soon?
[Some what distracted sounding as his eyes stay locked on that dress until it's out of sight.]