( they don't let him out of bed often, bounded and immobilized for most of the day. food, hygiene, and restroom breaks adhere to a strict schedule in between checkup and therapy. he only ever gets two outside visitors — one he knows better than himself; the other... an obsessive and haunting presence.
he is an animal trapped in a cage, each day passing by more difficult than the previous.
but he continues to grow stronger daily. he can now walk, jump, and move with an ease that wasn't there a month ago. if they would just let him exercise for longer periods of time, he is sure he can recover faster.
maybe he's pushing himself too hard, but it's a... it's a constant frustration not to be able to do the things he used to excel at with little to no effort. it's a constant frustration to see the look of worry and hurt in her eyes. it's a constant frustration that he just— he just can't fucking remember. why? why? why is he here? they tell him that he... that he killed homeland security agents, but his last memory was back at base overseas. he would never do something like that. right?
they don't let him out of bed often, but whenever the therapist or she arrives, he gets to stretch his arms and legs for a little while. it's... it's nice, you know?
it's nice to be able to see her, to touch her, to just be with her. )
I was... umm, I was able to do 5 more push ups today. Not as much as before obviously, but I think... I think if I keep it up, you know, if I keep it up, I can get to 30. ( she can't see his face behind the mask, but the trace of a smile is in his voice. ) Also, crunches. Like, 25 each.
Hey. You did good. [ Jess squeezes her fingers around his hand, not hard, but it's firm and heartfelt. She knows how hard he's trying and it very nearly breaks her heart, knowing how much he wants to do his best for her, how eager he is to make sure she knows he's improving every day.
It's the goddamned saddest thing in the world, being in the presence of someone so fragile and unsure when he'd been cocky, confident, charming only some months ago. Before this clusterfuck fell around their ears and Billy landed in the hospital, trapped in a coma none of them were too sure he'd ever wake from, her world had been different. They had plans.
She'd been here the entire time though. Save for the few hours throughout the day when she'd be running errands or investigating exactly what the fuck had happened (she's got the gist of it by now and oh yeah, it pisses her off that he'd kept so much of it from her - but now isn't the time, and admittedly, that time might never come), she was right by Billy's side. She kept her hand over his, the cool band of her engagement ring pressed into his skin as though she could remind him of the promise they'd made as kids, the promise they'd made months ago but she's keeping her expectations realistic. They'll take this day by day.
The mask kind of creeps her out if she's gonna be honest, but she understands that it's a part of the therapy. She'd been advised not to force him to pull it off, not before he's ready to, and while it's hard to stare into a soulless mask, she catches the hope and the smile through the holes in the eyes. ]
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@liquoring | 2.0
he is an animal trapped in a cage, each day passing by more difficult than the previous.
but he continues to grow stronger daily. he can now walk, jump, and move with an ease that wasn't there a month ago. if they would just let him exercise for longer periods of time, he is sure he can recover faster.
maybe he's pushing himself too hard, but it's a... it's a constant frustration not to be able to do the things he used to excel at with little to no effort. it's a constant frustration to see the look of worry and hurt in her eyes. it's a constant frustration that he just— he just can't fucking remember. why? why? why is he here? they tell him that he... that he killed homeland security agents, but his last memory was back at base overseas. he would never do something like that. right?
they don't let him out of bed often, but whenever the therapist or she arrives, he gets to stretch his arms and legs for a little while. it's... it's nice, you know?
it's nice to be able to see her, to touch her, to just be with her. )
I was... umm, I was able to do 5 more push ups today. Not as much as before obviously, but I think... I think if I keep it up, you know, if I keep it up, I can get to 30. ( she can't see his face behind the mask, but the trace of a smile is in his voice. ) Also, crunches. Like, 25 each.
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It's the goddamned saddest thing in the world, being in the presence of someone so fragile and unsure when he'd been cocky, confident, charming only some months ago. Before this clusterfuck fell around their ears and Billy landed in the hospital, trapped in a coma none of them were too sure he'd ever wake from, her world had been different. They had plans.
She'd been here the entire time though. Save for the few hours throughout the day when she'd be running errands or investigating exactly what the fuck had happened (she's got the gist of it by now and oh yeah, it pisses her off that he'd kept so much of it from her - but now isn't the time, and admittedly, that time might never come), she was right by Billy's side. She kept her hand over his, the cool band of her engagement ring pressed into his skin as though she could remind him of the promise they'd made as kids, the promise they'd made months ago but she's keeping her expectations realistic. They'll take this day by day.
The mask kind of creeps her out if she's gonna be honest, but she understands that it's a part of the therapy. She'd been advised not to force him to pull it off, not before he's ready to, and while it's hard to stare into a soulless mask, she catches the hope and the smile through the holes in the eyes. ]
I'm proud of you.