It’s been done in every which way but Eddie being in an accident of some kind that leaves him paralyzed, but his doctors believe he could walk again with intense physical therapy
He’s stubborn and absolutely hasn’t dealt with any of the trauma of the accident and takes it out on his physical therapist, Steve, who is used to patients being pretty angry about their situation
He always meets Eddie where he is though, tries to keep a smile on his face and joke when appropriate and even shares his cookies from his lunchbox with him
Eventually, Eddie starts making some progress, but instead of being happy about it, he panics and cancels all his PT appointments for the week
Steve tries calling, texting, emailing, doing everything he can to encourage him to keep going, but it all goes unanswered until Gareth, one of Eddie’s closest friends, calls him on Eddie’s phone
He’s depressed and he won’t get out of bed, he’s given up. He’s tired of being in pain and having to try to so hard just to move his damn legs a little
Steve isn’t usually this personal with clients, and tells Gareth he can’t discuss anything medical with him due to patient confidentiality, but insists he should try to drag him to the office the next day before it opens
And somehow, probably through guilt, Gareth manages to wheel a very sullen and grumpy Eddie into the side door entrance to the office at seven in the morning
Steve tells him to come back in an hour to pick him up and Eddie ignores the goodbye Gareth says to him
And Steve pretends nothing is wrong at all, goes through the usual temperature and blood pressure check, asks how he’s feeling and gets a grunt in response, asks if there’s any pain and gets an eye roll
But Eddie met his match in Steve because Steve then pushes him to the center of the workout room, where a large mat is out and a walker is set to the side
“What’s that?”
“Your walker.”
“I don’t need one seeing as I can’t fucking walk.”
“You are today.”
And Steve knows he’s pushing and he hates being pushy
But he knows what his clients are capable of, and he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Eddie is ready to use the walker for five to ten minute increments. He has the leg strength and the stubbornness, he just needs the belief in himself
“Do you want me to hurt myself worse?”
“Of course not. And if you get tired, the seat on the walker is right there. But you can walk and you will walk.”
“And if I call Gareth to come get me right now?”
“Then I don’t believe my services are of value to you anymore and I’ll wish you the best.”
It pained Steve to say it because he knew he was fucking good at what he did, maybe the best in town. His clients often had to wait for his availability to open for weeks or months at a time because of how many people were referred to him
But he said the right thing because Eddie huffed, groaned, and cursed under his breath before wheeling himself to the edge of the mat to hold onto the walker
He pulled himself up
His legs were shaking from not being used for the last few days more than the bare minimum, but his determination was clear
Steve slowly pulled the chair away as Eddie unlocked the brakes of the walker and glared at Steve as he took one step, then two
Sure, he was relying pretty heavily on the walker, maybe more than Steve would’ve liked to see, but he was moving
He made it across the mat and then locked the brakes, sat down on the pad on the walker, and gave a sarcastic grin to Steve
“Happy?”
“Are you?”
And maybe Eddie wasn’t ready to be asked that because he was suddenly sobbing, covering his face as tears flowed down his cheeks
Steve gave him a few seconds before moving to kneel in front of him, pulling his hands away
“You deserve to have your life back, Eddie. You’ve been lucky to have the chance to walk again. Let’s not waste it, okay?”
Eddie spent the rest of the session walking across the mat and taking breaks every two minutes or so
It was better than Steve even expected, but he reminded Eddie not to do too much at once
Eddie didn’t miss any more appointments with Steve, and every appointment, he seemed to be more charming and flirty, more like “the old Eddie” according to Gareth, who drove him most days
Steve never admitted it out loud, but he knew what he felt for Eddie was different from other clients. It felt more personal, and it felt like it could be more someday
When Eddie graduated to a cane, Steve’s services were officially no longer needed
And Eddie decided that he should probably take Steve out on a date
“Since I can walk and hold your hand now,” he winked.
Steve should say no, but he doesn’t
Because holding Eddie’s hand feels even more right as his boyfriend than it did as his physical therapist
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I'm experiencing the worst nasal congestion of my life as I'm typing this so I'm begging for a villain pampering a sick hero, make it fluffy pls 🙏 (only if you want to write this ofc)
“Shirt off,” the villain ordered and the hero — despite protesting — took it off. “Fine. Swallow this.”
The villain gave them the painkillers and a glass of water. Unfortunately for them, the villain needed the hero alive. They were working together but the hero had gotten sick.
And they hadn’t stitched their wounds yet.
“Good. Lie down on your stomach.” The hero rolled with their eyes and sighed, annoyed beyond compare, yet they followed the order.
“I’m fine, you know,” the hero said but the cold had changed their voice and the wound had been looking quite nasty for two days now.
The villain didn’t answer, instead they sat down on the hero’s lower back and pulled the thread through the needle’s head. The hero wanted to turn around to look at them but the villain pushed their head back into the pillows.
“Do you have to sit on my ass?” The villain’s fingers brushed the swollen flesh around the hero’s wound, making the other hiss in pain.
“You can’t keep fighting when you’re injured,” the villain said. “I need you alive for the mission.”
“Because I have all the information?”
The villain didn’t answer. Their fingers were still in the hero’s hair, right where they had pushed them into the pillows. Before they took the alcohol from the nightstand, they let their fingers slide down the hero’s neck.
“You know, people die when they’re sick and working out.”
“It’s a mission,” the hero reminded them. “I can’t afford to get sick.”
“Incompetent behaviour.”
“Rude caretaker,” the hero answered. The villain cleaned the needle and the wound.
This time, the hero’s reaction was something close to a cuss-shriek and the villain felt a little bad for cleaning the wound without a warning.
“Easy…” Once again, their hand went through the hero’s hair and they were more than glad that the hero’s face was buried in the bed. “I need to stitch this and then you can sleep for as long as you please.”
The hero was ready to sacrifice everything, especially themselves and the villain wasn’t satisfied with that decision.
No one matched them in battle like the hero.
No one laughed at their jokes like the hero.
And no one looked at them like the hero.
“Relax, you’re being dramatic,” the villain said, rubbing their hand over the hero’s shoulder. “I’ll be quick.”
“Fine,” the hero mumbled into the pillows. “Can I put my hand on your thigh?”
“Yes.” The villain knew they were blushing. “Squeeze if you have to.”
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