( shopping is horrid, naturally, because each moment away from his wife feels like an eternity. eddie simply can't wait to load his modest hatchback up with brown paper bags and make a beeline back for his newly shared abode. if he breaks a few speeding laws along the way, who could blame him? he has someone waiting for him! a paramour! a love!
rules be damned, he' in love.
so, imagine his surprise when he stomps inside, down the stairs, to find his love in a crumpled heap on the ground. )
Darling, couldn't you wait for my return? I imagine were terrible antsy. I'll admit, I was too. I thought only of you during my excursion...
( he doesn't question how or why waylon's ended up on the ground. in his mind, the girl just got herself so worked up that she flung herself off the bed in an effort to bring them closer together. )
Apologies, my love. This might sting.
( and then eddie is hoisting waylon up from the ground with muscles that seem to contradict the delicate work of a medical worker. lifting patients all day might have something to do with it, but it can't explain all of his bulk and brawn. once he's in the air, eddie is as gentle as possible when he lays him back onto the bed. )
Rest now, Waylon. Overexerting yourself is no good.
[When his captor stomps back downstairs Waylon expects the worst. Anger and vitriol, maybe he'll be killed for trying to escape?
And yet... Eddie is gentle, apologizes for the pain he'll cause Waylon as he lifts him from the ground to place him back on the hospital bed. Much to his darling husband to be's delight, one would imagine any way, Waylon clutches at his shirt while in Eddie's arms. What a strong broad chest and shoulders, muscles any woman would swoon over.]
I'm sorry—
[Waylon will sob in pain, mostly to try and placate any anger there may be lingering under all the care that Eddie provides him. Obviously he wasn't trying to get away, he just fell out of bed, yes. That's all it was.
The bed is more comfortable than writhing on the floor, but he's not in any less pain.]
What's... something is broken, something is wrong.
[Maybe Eddie can at least tell how fucked up his is from the "accident". Waylon can tell something is broken, otherwise he'd have been able to walk, but his body couldn't even support him trying to stand. Was it his legs? Hips? Both? Maybe there was something wrong with his spine. Fuck, would he ever be able to walk again?]
( the swell of lust and longing he feels as his lover clutches his chest is enough to make his knees weak. a lesser man may have dropped waylon right then and there, but eddie is strong enough to power through until his lover is safely upon the bench, wherein he goes about feral with need and has to force himself to look away from waylon lest he do something he'll come to regret. )
Darling... Be mindful, now. It's clear that you don't realize the affect you have on others, but should a man come along with less resolve than I...
( he clears his throat, fully composed, and looks but in time to catch waylon's inquiry. despite his regain sense of self, he can't help himself from leaning over waylon as he speaks, admiring the subtle curve of his jaw, the smooth work of his lips. at the mention of what's broken, he allows his gaze to travel down the expanse of waylon's torso, no less salacious. he could try to be more subtle about the way he's eyeing waylon up, but, well, you know how it is. a man can only be responsible for so much. )
That grisly business with the car, I'm afraid. It's shattered you. But... it's not something that can't be rebuilt.
And, of course, I had to take care of those unsightly things down below, make a space to welcome our family.
( then, he stands. )
Chicken, my dear? Tell me you aren't one of those vegan types. I haven't the fridge to accommodate you now, but I'll find some way to make do.
[Waylon is feeling a whole lot of feelings right now, that mixed up with the immense amount of pain he's in is a rotten cocktail of what the fuck is even going on right now. He wished he would pass out at this point, maybe he should have let Eddie stick him earlier, because in one moment Eddie is talking like he, he being Waylon, is trying to seduce him through some womanly wiles.
He can see the way he looks at him and he just wants to disappear. However that might be.
At least he's... kind of given an answer? Shattered. So broken bones, bones that will heal in time. How much time? How long will he be stuck here until he can plan an escape, because as shattered as he is right now, perhaps that little escape attempt of his had been stupid.]
What...?
[Confusion and pain pinch his features. Unsightly? Make space to welcome our family? What in the hell... he's not in the right mind to process what any of that means. Or maybe it's the pain. Both.]
No I'm not— I don't think... I'm not really hungry.
[And he'll reach out, grab for Eddie's arm.]
I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten up, b-but it hurts. Please do you have anything...?
[For the pain. Medicine? Hit him hard enough to knock his ass out? Something.]
( eddie is speaking as if waylon is trying to seduce him because waylon is trying to seduce him, very blatantly. those bright eyes and parted lips, goodness, she clearly doesn't know her own strength, does she? )
Darling, nonsense. You haven't eaten all day.
( he begins to turn away, but fingers against his arm are enough to make his heart melt. his dearest, his love, reaching for him because she knows nobody else will care for her this way. no one else will look out for waylon, will love waylon, even with her shortcomings. eddie loves her enough to stick with her through this dreadful transformation process. a lesser man wouldn't bother.
it's not easy to become a woman, but eddie will be here through it all. )
After you eat. I know you may have your reservations, but you'll wither away to nothing without a meal in you. I can give you something then.
( no room for discussion there. he pulls his arm away before waylon can suck him in further, and he descends up the stairs, away from his love, though each step feels like a knife through the heart. )
[It feels like he has no other choice at this point. Even if Eddie hadn't come back when he had how far would Waylon have made it out of this room? Could he even have?
His captor insists that he eats, that only then will he give him some relief. What else can he do but comply, not that Eddie gives him a choice in the matter. Waylon watches him leave and wants nothing but to curl in on himself, but such movement would only hurt his already fragile feeling body.
He's done enough harm to himself today as it is. So like a good wife, he'll lay there, awaiting Eddie's inevitable return.]
( fortunately, eddie won't deprive waylon of his presence for too long. how long does it make to throw together some soup and sandwiches? ten minutes? twenty minutes, tops? eddie takes about that long, but with his added breaks for regaining his composure [waylon really is just too much] and scorning the fact that he's in the kitchen at all, it rounds out to being closer to thirty.
by that point, the door can be heard creaking open followed by heavy footsteps padding down against old hardwood stairs. eddie has an apron on, which looks silly and strangely charming, and he balances a tray of food in one hand. atop it are the promised sandwiches and a bowl of hearty soup, but there are also freshly picked flowers and a vial of one can only pray is some kind of pain reliever.
he sits at the side of waylon's bed. )
Don't try to sit up, love. You'll strain yourself.
[Eddie could have taken two minutes and it would feel like an eternity. There's no clock or way to tell the time down here and with no windows either he can't tell if it's day or night. The seconds crawl slow and by the time Eddie returns Waylon wonders if he won't start to go crazy left alone like this in his suffering.
He doesn't need to be told not to sit up, it hurts too much to even consider it. Before he'd all but tossed himself on the floor the pain had been much less, now it was all encompassing. Laying there is about all he can do.
Waylon notes the flowers, it would be sweet if things weren't... well. Like they were. The vial catches his attention next. Medicine? Something take help with the pain? To put him to sleep? The sooner he behaves, the sooner he can have that. Waylon nods, eyes darting over the soup and sandwiches, they look good actually, but he can't find it in himself to be hungry. Not now.
Still, when Eddie does help him to eat, he'll behave. Chew and swallow down what's given to him, even if his stomach twists in pain and nausea.]
( 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.]
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rules be damned, he' in love.
so, imagine his surprise when he stomps inside, down the stairs, to find his love in a crumpled heap on the ground. )
Darling, couldn't you wait for my return? I imagine were terrible antsy. I'll admit, I was too. I thought only of you during my excursion...
( he doesn't question how or why waylon's ended up on the ground. in his mind, the girl just got herself so worked up that she flung herself off the bed in an effort to bring them closer together. )
Apologies, my love. This might sting.
( and then eddie is hoisting waylon up from the ground with muscles that seem to contradict the delicate work of a medical worker. lifting patients all day might have something to do with it, but it can't explain all of his bulk and brawn. once he's in the air, eddie is as gentle as possible when he lays him back onto the bed. )
Rest now, Waylon. Overexerting yourself is no good.
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And yet... Eddie is gentle, apologizes for the pain he'll cause Waylon as he lifts him from the ground to place him back on the hospital bed. Much to his darling husband to be's delight, one would imagine any way, Waylon clutches at his shirt while in Eddie's arms. What a strong broad chest and shoulders, muscles any woman would swoon over.]
I'm sorry—
[Waylon will sob in pain, mostly to try and placate any anger there may be lingering under all the care that Eddie provides him. Obviously he wasn't trying to get away, he just fell out of bed, yes. That's all it was.
The bed is more comfortable than writhing on the floor, but he's not in any less pain.]
What's... something is broken, something is wrong.
[Maybe Eddie can at least tell how fucked up his is from the "accident". Waylon can tell something is broken, otherwise he'd have been able to walk, but his body couldn't even support him trying to stand. Was it his legs? Hips? Both? Maybe there was something wrong with his spine. Fuck, would he ever be able to walk again?]
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Darling... Be mindful, now. It's clear that you don't realize the affect you have on others, but should a man come along with less resolve than I...
( he clears his throat, fully composed, and looks but in time to catch waylon's inquiry. despite his regain sense of self, he can't help himself from leaning over waylon as he speaks, admiring the subtle curve of his jaw, the smooth work of his lips. at the mention of what's broken, he allows his gaze to travel down the expanse of waylon's torso, no less salacious. he could try to be more subtle about the way he's eyeing waylon up, but, well, you know how it is. a man can only be responsible for so much. )
That grisly business with the car, I'm afraid. It's shattered you. But... it's not something that can't be rebuilt.
And, of course, I had to take care of those unsightly things down below, make a space to welcome our family.
( then, he stands. )
Chicken, my dear? Tell me you aren't one of those vegan types. I haven't the fridge to accommodate you now, but I'll find some way to make do.
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He can see the way he looks at him and he just wants to disappear. However that might be.
At least he's... kind of given an answer? Shattered. So broken bones, bones that will heal in time. How much time? How long will he be stuck here until he can plan an escape, because as shattered as he is right now, perhaps that little escape attempt of his had been stupid.]
What...?
[Confusion and pain pinch his features. Unsightly? Make space to welcome our family? What in the hell... he's not in the right mind to process what any of that means. Or maybe it's the pain. Both.]
No I'm not— I don't think... I'm not really hungry.
[And he'll reach out, grab for Eddie's arm.]
I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten up, b-but it hurts. Please do you have anything...?
[For the pain. Medicine? Hit him hard enough to knock his ass out? Something.]
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Darling, nonsense. You haven't eaten all day.
( he begins to turn away, but fingers against his arm are enough to make his heart melt. his dearest, his love, reaching for him because she knows nobody else will care for her this way. no one else will look out for waylon, will love waylon, even with her shortcomings. eddie loves her enough to stick with her through this dreadful transformation process. a lesser man wouldn't bother.
it's not easy to become a woman, but eddie will be here through it all. )
After you eat. I know you may have your reservations, but you'll wither away to nothing without a meal in you. I can give you something then.
( no room for discussion there. he pulls his arm away before waylon can suck him in further, and he descends up the stairs, away from his love, though each step feels like a knife through the heart. )
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His captor insists that he eats, that only then will he give him some relief. What else can he do but comply, not that Eddie gives him a choice in the matter. Waylon watches him leave and wants nothing but to curl in on himself, but such movement would only hurt his already fragile feeling body.
He's done enough harm to himself today as it is. So like a good wife, he'll lay there, awaiting Eddie's inevitable return.]
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by that point, the door can be heard creaking open followed by heavy footsteps padding down against old hardwood stairs. eddie has an apron on, which looks silly and strangely charming, and he balances a tray of food in one hand. atop it are the promised sandwiches and a bowl of hearty soup, but there are also freshly picked flowers and a vial of one can only pray is some kind of pain reliever.
he sits at the side of waylon's bed. )
Don't try to sit up, love. You'll strain yourself.
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He doesn't need to be told not to sit up, it hurts too much to even consider it. Before he'd all but tossed himself on the floor the pain had been much less, now it was all encompassing. Laying there is about all he can do.
Waylon notes the flowers, it would be sweet if things weren't... well. Like they were. The vial catches his attention next. Medicine? Something take help with the pain? To put him to sleep? The sooner he behaves, the sooner he can have that. Waylon nods, eyes darting over the soup and sandwiches, they look good actually, but he can't find it in himself to be hungry. Not now.
Still, when Eddie does help him to eat, he'll behave. Chew and swallow down what's given to him, even if his stomach twists in pain and nausea.]
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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.]
no subject
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.]