#whumplr reader

[roman-cates]

"I'm… fine." Bryce isn't sure that's true, but he's doing better than Bryce expected, so, maybe. But then Roman continues, "Yeah, I guess they were just concerned I was being abused. Asked me if I feel safe at home and all that. Nothing outside of what they usually ask."

"What they… usually ask?" And shit, he shouldn't have said that out loud, but… What they usually ask?

"What they… usually ask?"

Ah... Roman realizes he probably shouldn't have said that— didn't need to have said that. Too late to take it back, now, though.

"Mm... yeah." Roman pulls away a little and looks out the window. "Ah, when I was growing up, they always used to ask me and Archer at our yearly checkups and stuff." Should he say more..? Explain further? He doesn't really want to, though, so he stops.

[apoorsoul]

The man puts on medical gloves while Katai insults him.

He turns to his friend and asks, "A little help?"

The man with the camera steps around him and out of sight behind Katai's head. There's a tugging at Katai's throat, and he's pulled back against the thin pillow as something attached to the collar around his neck is tugged. The next thing he knows, there's fur on his forehead like that on his arms and legs, holding his head far more immobile than it was.

"Thanks."

And the gag is approaching his face. He closes his mouth. One gloved hand comes down above his forehead and lands on his nose, pinching it shut. There's a thumb on one cheek and fingers on the other, pressing in.

Katai keeps his mouth shut as long as he can. The hand on his cheeks doesn't move or squeeze, just keeps up a steady pressure.

"Anyway," says the man while Katai fights to stay conscious, "I debated picking him up last week, but Bob would only take Johnson for him, and you know I can't give him up."

"Bit of luck there," says another voice from behind Katai. Presumably the camera-man that's pinching Katai's nose.

"I know, right? He's out for at least two games, and after that showing…"

"A little help?"

They're completely ignoring him. How nice. Katai yells all the louder because of it.

The man with a camera steps out of sight behind Katai's head and then there's a tug and he can no longer lift his head.

"What? The other restraints aren't enough?? Keep your damn hands to yourself! Stop touching me— I'll—" What's he going to do? He can't even move. Damn... "I'm going to get out of here— You'll fucking regret this—"

There's a strap across his forehead now, too. Just like the ones on his arms and legs. Now he really can't move. That won't stop him from trying, though.

"Thanks." The gag is approaching Katai's face again and he snaps his mouth shut. In response, a gloved hand pinches his nose shut. Another hand is on his face, thumb on one cheek and fingers on the other, applying a steady pressure.

Katai fully intends to keep his mouth shut for as long as possible, fighting as hard as he can to move his head. However, he was unprepared. He did not manage to get a full breath in.

"Anyway, I debated picking him up last week, but Bob would only take Johnson for him, and you know I can't give him up."

What the hell is wrong with these people?? How can they so casually chat about this while they're literally pinning him down and trying to force him to open his mouth? They've kidnapped him, stripped him naked, restrained him completely to a gurney—

Katai doesn't pay attention to anything else they say, instead opting to focus all his energy into staying awake and trying to get his face free. It's a losing battle, however, as he has to breathe eventually. He gave it a good effort— lasted over a minute, he's sure— probably almost two. As soon as his mouth opens, they gag him and he immediately starts trying to scream insults at them again, resorting to biting the gag and growling with an almost animalistic fervor when he recognizes talking is completely useless.

[roman-cates]

"If that's okay," Roman says as he sits up.

Bryce isn't sure how to interpret that, although he's sure it's in response to his own tone.

"Yeah," his voice is quiet. "For now… Please."

"Yeah," Bryce's voice is quiet. "For now… Please."

Roman nods, glad to be wrong about Bryce's hesitation. As Bryce gets up, Roman swings his legs carefully over the side of the bed and makes the transfer into his chair. He ignored the pain as best he can, trying to forget for even another moment that they're getting ready for a doctor's appointment. The pain is always worse in the mornings, though, when he hasn't taken any painkillers yet, and it's pretty much impossible to ignore...

[roman-cates]

Archer doesn't reply for a moment, and Bryce isn't sure how to handle what's coming. But then Archer seems to relent, and writes out a phone number which he slides over. Bryce glances at it, memorizes the number, and slips it in pocket for now, unwilling to destroy it in front of Archer.

"This is my number. Is that app you mentioned something I can sign up with my own number, or should I download it now so I can give you whatever the number it picks is?"

"I can show you how to set it up," Bryce offers, and walks Archer through the process, which is more confusing than it has any right to be. He pulls out his own phone and enters the information. Roman is still and silent throughout. Bryce pushes back his concern. Roman is breathing quietly under his hand, not wildly panicking. That's something, at least.

"This will alert that you have a message, but won't show it to you until you open the app, and enter the passcode you set up," he tells Archer. "If you enter 0000 instead, it shows a spam message. Either way, it will be deleted five minutes after you read it." And then he lowers his voice, softens it, and turns to Roman. "K— Roman? Can you handle a little more water?" Are you here?

"I can show you how to set it up," Bryce offers, and Roman listens absently to him walking Archer through the process.

"This will alert that you have a message, but won't show it to you until you open the app, and enter the passcode you set up," Bryce tells Archer. "If you enter 0000 instead, it shows a spam message. Either way, it will be deleted five minutes after you read it." And then he lowers his voice, softens it, and Roman can hear the difference as Bryce turns to him a bit. "K— Roman? Can you handle a little more water?"

He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want to pick his head up.

Still, Bryce sounds... worried. And Roman feels worse than ever. He picks his head up, pale-faced, and takes another drink of the water in front of him.

There's an impulse to say that he's fine— to try and relieve even a little of the worry, but... he's so incredibly not fine. He doesn't want to say he is, and Bryce wouldn't believe it anyway.

Roman puts his head back down.

"... Roman?" Archer's voice is careful. Roman hears his chair move back and then feels his brother's hand on his back as he crouches next to the wheelchair. "I..." Archer pauses, like he's trying to figure out what he's supposed to say. Or maybe how to say what he wants to.

Roman makes himself turn his head to look at his brother, and Archer looks so much better than when they were kids... Those tired circles under his eyes are gone. There's worry in his expression now, but... that's probably not usually there. He seems so much stronger, now... not just physically, but... He's stopped shouting. He never used to be able to calm back down and continue a conversation... It was always shouting the whole way through, once it started, or he would stop talking altogether.

"Roman, I did look for you." Archer finally says. "I... you know Luke didn't leave with the rest of us that took off. He kept me in the loop about... about things he could see. That you were still with mom and dad. That you... well... that things didn't look on the outside like they had changed much."

Yeah... it looked like everything stayed the same after Archer left because nobody was allowed in the house, which was always where the worst bits happened.

"He told me when you left, and I tried to track you down after that, but I couldn't find you, and I just... I thought maybe you hated me. Maybe you didn't want me to find you."

"I didn't hate you. I don't hate you." The words are out so fast, Roman doesn't have a chance to put them through any sort of filter, scared that the way he's just acted today will only reinforce that belief. If he hated Archer, he wouldn't care whether or not he was involved in this mess.

Archer doesn't look any less worried, though. "Yeah, well... you probably should... None of this would have happened if..." Archer shakes his head, and Roman doesn't know what to say to that. None of this would have happened if a lot of things. If Archer had stayed, sure, but also if Roman had left sooner, maybe, or left later, or been more careful, or a million other choices had or hadn't been made.

Luckily, Archer only pauses for half a second, and Roman doesn't have to figure out what to say. "I love you, and I know you aren't safe, but are you at least okay? Do you really trust this guy?" He nods vaguely in Bryce's direction. "He hasn't hurt you?"

Is he okay? Not really, a lot of the time... "I do trust him. And no, he hasn't hurt me." Roman manages, voice still weak, as he chooses to only answer the last two questions, hoping the first will be forgotten.

Archer doesn't look happy— the concern is still there in his eyes— but he does at least seem satisfied with this answer. "Okay... as long as that's at least true..." Roman puts his face back down as Archer looks up in Bryce's direction again. "If there is anything I can do to actually help, I want to know."

[roman-cates]

They sit down in the far corner of the waiting room, facing away from the front desk. There's no one around, but Bryce shifts in his seat anyway, concerned about onlookers.

"I… don't know how I'm 'supposed' to answer these," Roman says, trying to pass the clipboard off.

"Okay," Bryce breathes, more a whisper of wind than a sound. He slips Roman the cards in exchange for the clipboard.

Bryce takes the clipboard from Roman, holding it an awkward angle to let Roman see what he's writing. Current date is already scrawled out in a handwriting he doesn't recognize: 9-10-23. Patient name, likewise, Reagan Stryerson. Bryce fills in birthday, the same as Roman's real one: 2-18-01. There's a section for notes on the injury, which is information they should have, but Bryce fills when the ankle injury occurred (only 7-29, because he has no idea how long the leg had been broken before that.) and date of surgery (8-28).

He pauses, pen hovering above the paper, as the starkness of the dates finally hits him. He let Roman suffer with a make-shift cast for a month. One whole fucking month.

And he tells the kid he loves him. Fuck, who the hell is he kidding?

Roman accepts the insurance card and ID, looking over the ID to make sure he actually pays attention to the information on it this time. The birthday is...

It's his real birthday.

Did he know that..? He had to have known that... Even if he didn't try to commit the information on the card to memory— which he hadn't— he still would have noticed the birthday was his own.

He stares at the card for several long moments, trying to drag back the memory he knows has to be there.

He can't.

He can't remember seeing it before, even though he knows he did. It doesn't make sense that he didn't.

[roman-cates]

Roman nods. "I might fall asleep by accident. If I do, just wake me up again when he gets here."

Bryce isn't sure they shouldn't just push Kyle off til tomorrow. But it's Roman's body, Roman's bandages that won't be fresh. Roman's the one that will suffer if he misses the exercises.

"Okay," Bryce murmurs. "Dinner after the movie, and then we can sit here? Or do you want to try to nap in bed after dinner?"

"Okay," Bryce murmurs. "Dinner after the movie, and then we can sit here? Or do you want to try to nap in bed after dinner?"

"Dinner and then we can come sit here again. I don't want to go all the way and get in bed just to get back up again for a little while." I'll be easier to wake up from the sofa, too. Roman thinks he'll be less grouchy and more amenable to letting Kyle do his job.

[roman-cates]

Inside, Bryce uses the kitchen sink to wash his hands. It's probably not sanitary, he should probably go use the bathroom sink, but… This is fine.

As he scrubs the dirt out under his nails, he glances his phone, left alone on the counter. There's a message on the lock screen, showing he got an incoming reply. It's coded, of course, but it looks to be from Corey, who he texted earlier about Dirk.

When he's done washing his hands he picks up the phone and sits down, brow furrowed. The message is simple: Dirk can spot a tail a mile away. No one here would try. With him, the direct approach is the only way - that's why YOU got involved in the first place. Call me for details. -C

As Bryce washes his hands, he glances at his phone, then picks it up when he finishes washing and sits down. Roman finds himself suddenly reminded of the fact that Bryce had been on the phone with Mal right before they went into the cafe. He must've hung up on her when he rushed in...

That's probably not good.

Why hasn't he said anything, though? Well... probably because Roman is fragile. Was especially fragile a couple hours ago when it would've been most relevant.

"Did... you need to call Mal back? What did she want earlier?"

[roman-cates]

Roman picks up one of the packets. "There's directions on the back, but we could look them up online, too, if you feel like we should."

Bryce reads through the directions again. Some of it makes sense, sure. The distance between the seeds makes sense, as does the depth. But… "Mounds of soil? I don't know what half this means." He looks dubiously as Roman. "If you understand this, we don't need the internet." Or maybe Roman picked up a simpler vegetable. "But if I have to understand this, we do."

Bryce reads over the back of the seed packet in his hands. "Mounds of soil? I don't know what half this means." He looks confused. "If you understand this, we don't need the internet. But if I have to understand this, we do."

"Ah, I'm pretty sure that just means that you pile a little soil on top, like a mound." Roman thinks for a second. He's not really sure how much soil or if you're supposed to pack it tight or leave it loose... "Yeah, looking it up would probably be a good idea."