63- Pudding

Trapped. That was the best way to describe it. He couldn't wash himself or brush his own teeth, he could barely feed himself, he had to be carried to the bathroom... Everything set to a schedule of taking pain medicine and assisted stretching...

Even with the pills, he was still sore and uncomfortable. He wasn't going to ask for more though, Scott was already doing so much for him as it was. He hated that he was putting Scott through this. Maybe it would have been better if the accident had killed him. His life had been rough enough already, and when there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel, this happened.

His freedom was gone.

His independence was gone.

Everything he'd worked for, all gone.

He tried to tell himself this was just temporary. The casts would come off after New Year. It wouldn't be so bad. Then, he'd just have to get strong enough to walk again. He could do it. Or so he thought. What really drove the point home was when they went to clean out his apartment.

It was supposed to be a happy thing, getting everything worth keeping of his to Scott's place once his lease was up, a celebration of the start of their life together. But, sitting in a wheelchair, in the hallway, as your in-laws and fiance cleaned all the spoiled food from your fridge... As they bagged up all your clothes... As they brought out your mismatched thrift store plates and cups one by one, sorting out what had sentimental value and what could go in the "donate" box...

Seeing everything worth saving that he'd been able to aquire all on his own reduced to three small boxes... It hurt.

His neighbor had come out to talk to him, curious about all the noise, but they were never really close. He got the feeling she was just being nosy and then couldn't run away tactfully after seeing the state he was in. She withdrew as soon as she had an opening. He didn't blame her.

The worst part of it all was the nightmares. He didn't dream about the accident, oddly enough. No, he dreamed about the hell he worked so hard to overcome.

He tried to tell himself the circumstances were different this time! No one was going to deny him food for not behaving correctly! No one was going to beat him to teach him to act like a "proper omega!" No one was going to leave him tied up for hours because they had something more important to do! But... that person... they started out as nice as Scott was...

And now he was effectively immobile... Reliant on Scott for everything... What if Scott got frustrated with him? Or got bored of taking care of him? What if Scott got tired of carrying him to the toilet and put him in a diaper, just like when he was forced to wear a chain that didn't quite reach the bedroom door, and something was needed to contain the inevitable mess... What if...

It kept him awake at night.

He'd lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, listening to Scott's steady breathing beside him. They didn't cuddle at night anymore. The only cuddling he seemed to get any more was from his teddy bear. Ryan slept on his back by default now, legs and arms propped up by special foam pillows. What he wouldn't give to curl up safe in Scott's arms. Only, his body wasn't capable of doing much curling at the moment.

This. Wasn't. Like. Before.

This wouldn't end with him being a ward of the state. This wouldn't end with him in a shelter. right?

This was different.

Different didn't mean easier.

--------------------

Scott didn't know what to do. Ryan's depression had only gotten worse since they went to go clean out his apartment. Most of the time now, he was no more responsive than a living doll. Scott tried dialing back his pain meds a little, wondering if they were responsible for making him foggy, but it didn't make a difference. The worst part? Ryan wouldn't tell him what was wrong!

They'd settled into a fairly consistent schedule. In the morning, after seeing to his own needs at Ryan's insistence, Scott would carry Ryan to the bathroom to brush his hair and teeth. Then, he would get Ryan set up on the couch. Breakfast was never anything fancy, unless his parents had dropped something off. Lunch at one, dinner at six, either delivery or microwaved leftovers. Short physical therapy sessions between meals. Showers at nine. He'd tape off Ryan's casts, remove his chest binding, and wash both their bodies at the same time. It was a little bit of a squeeze with Ryan not being able to bend his left knee, but they managed.

Ryan's clothing options were limited. His underwear wouldn't stretch enough to get them on, but some of Scott's pajama pants were just baggy enough to fit. Scott didn't think Ryan minded going commando, but Ryan wasn't exactly offering many opinions right now. He usually didn't bother trying to get Ryan in a shirt. Working the sleeves around Ryan's casts was tricky, and Ryan's right arm stayed in a sling during the day anyway. A small blanket served perfectly well for comfort and temperature control.

Scott was also worried about Ryan's diminished appetite. He was only taking in a handful of bites most meals before claiming he was full, or simply not hungry. And, with Ryan having gone completely secretive about his waste elimination, it was hard to judge the state of his digestive health. While he did okay with it in the hospital, Ryan refused to use a urinal now that he was discharged. He wanted total privacy in the bathroom, and flushed before Scott went in to help him clean up.

And urination used to be foreplay for them... Not that Scott would consider a situation like this sexy, but it didn't make sense to him that Ryan was suddenly bathroom shy.

Filling the day was a challenge. There was only so many movies and so much binge watching you could do before it was too much. They tried playing video games, and Ryan could manage okay, but not being able to move his wrists meant he had to hold the controller at a weird angle, and he complained that it made his shoulders hurt, so he'd much rather just watch Scott play. They tried mobile games, but nothing caught Ryan's attention for long.

Scott was about ready to run out and get one of those new split controller systems just so Ryan could have something to do. Anything to keep his mind occupied. Though, it might be hard to find one with the holidays coming up... At least media attention had died down. They hadn't had any reporters show up recently. Scott wondered if the lawyer had anything to do with it.

Ryan's ring was supposed to be ready tomorrow. They were able to reuse the stones, but the band was beyond salvage. Scott was already planning a day of it. They could get Ryan's hair cut since his injury finally healed enough, grab lunch, bum around the mall, and pick up the ring. You know what? He was going to hunt down the gaming system too. While they were out, he might as well.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't going to miss Ryan's long hair. Scott was sure Ryan would be just as cute with short hair. But, long hair or short hair, none of it made a difference if he couldn't get Ryan to at least eat!

Even now, Ryan was laid out on the couch, absentmindedly staring at the TV. He had all of a single piece of toast for breakfast, and only five small pieces of chicken for dinner the night before. He was indulging his latest habit, running his left-hand fingers along the edge of his right arm cast. It was already starting to fray just the slightest bit. No way he wasn't hungry. Scott's mom had a wonderfully creative idea on how to fix it, and dropped off the fruits of her labor last night when his parents came to visit. It was time to put it in action.

Her concoction made use of all the meal replacement and protein bars and drinks he stocked up on when preparing for his and Ryan's mating week. She turned some vanilla drinks in to pudding, and mixed in chopped up cookie dough flavored bars. Scott already taste tested it, and like everything his parents made, it was delicious. Nutritionally, a small bowl would more than make up for a scant meal. He just had to get Ryan to eat it.

Scott scooped some into an overly decorative crystal bowl he couldn't remember where he got or who might've given it to him. He piled on the whipped cream and drizzled on some chocolate syrup, licking off some that had gotten on his fingers. With any luck, in a few weeks' time he could enjoy these toppings on something even tastier... For now, showtime!

"Hey, Hot Stuff!" He called from the kitchen, "You wanna eat what my mom made?"

"If that's a sex joke, I'm not exactly in the mood..."

Scott slid over to the couch, holding the bowl like a prized trophy. "I promise you'll love this!"

"... What is it?" Ryan asked dubiously.

Scott lifted up the spoon and held it close to Ryan's mouth. "Chocolate chip cookie dough pudding! You've got to taste it!"

Ryan tried to take the spoon, but Scott moved it out of his reach.

"Let me feed you," Scott insisted. "I know how hard it can be for you to manage with your left hand."

"I'm not hungry." Ryan turned away, no longer interested.

"Ryan, please. I know you're not eating enough. Let me help you?"

"I don't need you to feed me!" Ryan snapped, the most energy he'd shown in a while. "I'm an adult! I can feed myself!"

Scott was hurt, but he was expecting an outburst would come sooner or later.

Ryan's face crumpled. He didn't want to cry! He wasn't going to cry! But, it was all so damn frustrating!!! He was an adult! He knew how to take care of himself! The tears came whether he wanted them to or not.

"It's not fair..." Ryan sobbed.