| This one? |
[07 Dec 2005|02:21am] |
Who: Maria
What: The morning of Ryan's surgery
Where: Her purse
Tucked into her purse, under her 700-dollar Chanel wallet and beside her day planner are four pictures of a dress, on a dressmaker's dummy with a lot of padding added out front, printed out on Maria's best photograph paper.
It's obviously in the process of being completed, with pins holding parts of it together, but it's unmistakably elegant. On a post-it, in Ryan's nigh-on indecipherable handwriting, it reads:
How about this one?
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| Meaningless |
[04 Dec 2005|03:01pm] |
| [ |
music |
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Static-X - Bled for Days |
] |
Who: Tommy
When: December 5th, a few days before Ryan goes in for surgery.
What: Wedding Plotting and snark, oh my.
Ryan's perched on the edge of the computer chair, shoulders hunched and brow furrowed as he painstakingly types out an email, one keystroke at a time with the index finger of his right hand. It's about as much fun as having teeth pulled, but he needs to write this email.
ten dozen of each should be good for the church, am not sure what table dec. will be yet.
thanks,
rw
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| Happy Birthday Baby |
[08 Nov 2005|06:11pm] |
Who: Maria, Josh and Ryan
When, What: BIRTHDAY!
Probably about two o'clock in the afternoon there's the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, and the increasingly uncommon sound of Josh laughing, bright and high as he pushes the door to the kitchen open. "In this way, Señor. Just be very careful..."
And Ryan tumbles in, his cheeks red and his smile broad on his rounded cheeks. He looks around, trying to see where Maria is. Whereisshewhereisshe...
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| About Her |
[08 Sep 2005|10:53pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 worried |
] |
Who: Maria
When: First week of September
What: Not telling. ~_^
After the chaos of cleaning up after the hurricane and the added stress of his first few pre-op appointments there came a lull in the life of Casa Mendoza, and Ryan took advantage of it. He made some discreet calls (with the aid of Bethany, who was down to one visit every few days, to help out with niggly things like the occasional cath flush and cleaning his bridge, which he is so, so not willing to let Maria or Josh do for him) and managed the side door all by himself, which he was quite proud of, really. By the time he got settled in the gazebo in the cramped little back yard, a secluded glade behind its big stucco walls, he was actually quite tired, but he stifled a yawn behind his fist and kicked his feet a little, what, do they make these things for giants? as he waited.
On the kitchen table there's a white rose and an envelope adressed To Maria Mendoza in neat, old-fashioned embossed script.
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[04 Jul 2005|01:42pm] |
Who: Maria
When: About the same time Greg gets Gregnapped
Where: The Hospital Room o'Doom
What: Ryan gets released, finally!
Just less than two weeks after his relapse, Ryan's sats are finally sitting above 95 consistantly, and his chest tube's been out for a few days without any signifigant trouble. The doctor agrees, on stipulation that he have twice-daily visits from a home nurse and constant supervision, that Ryan can be released. Bethany does what she playfully refers to as a debriefing, and agrees to handle all of the set-up stuff in the spare room to equip it with all the necessary perephernalia so he can stay without any major difficulty.
He does pass out when Bethany takes the catheter out, and by the time he's all dressed (yoga pants and a soft white t-shirt, with a no-nonsense blue shoulder brace over it that looks suspiciously like it was designed by a sadist with questionable aesthetic sense) and sat up in bed, he's sworn his undying hatred for the diminutive blonde nurse at least eight times, and his equally undying love four. He's doped up, but other than that, he feels... As normal as he has, since he was attacked to begin with.
Bethany pats him on the arm and gives him a little smile, and says she's going to call Maria to come pick him up, then leaves.
God, I never thought I would live to leave this damn room.
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[31 May 2005|09:57pm] |
Who: Nick
When: ~1 week before Ryan gets out of the hospital, almost a week after Maria gets attacked
Where: Duh. :p
---
Ryan was actually awake for once, not just concious but more-or-less lucid, which would have been far more enjoyable if he'd had anything to do. Greg was at work and Maria was too, and Josh was at the Art Center down on Calle Ocho teaching classes, which left him? All alone, free to count the dots in the ceiling tiles.
Much fun, that.
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[18 May 2005|01:54pm] |
And almost five weeks after he punctured his lung, Ryan just... got better. It wasn't a fast thing, because his body had taken almost more damage than it could recover from, and it sure as hell wasn't easy, but one night his O2 sats clicked up to 95, and stayed. The congestion in his chest started to clear up, slowly, and they cut back on his pain meds tentatively, to see if it would last, if he really could hold out.
And he did.
The doctors confided in Greg that if he showed no signs of back tracking and got a little better, he'd be home within the week.
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[04 May 2005|08:04am] |
Who: Greg
Where: The Hospital.
When: Immediately Following Nico's departure and Greg's phone messages
What: Generalized Angst and Suffering.
( Read more... )
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| FLASHBACKS ARE FUN! (otherwise known as wherein we feed our Ryan/Maria fixation) |
[23 Mar 2005|03:25pm] |
Who: Ryan and Maria
Where: FSU
When: Fall, '98
Ryan walked into the library, olive green backpack on his back and his hands squeezed into tight fists at his sides, resisting the urge to tug at the cuffs of his pale blue button up, he knew they were even. Just like he knew that it was stretched too tight across the shoulders and far too long for his short torso, denying his attempts to tuck it into his pants without making him look like a complete idiot. Bit his lip as he paused, dark eyes under shaggy brown hair wide with something approaching panic as he scanned the tables for this Maria Mendoza, CHEM I, major undeclared.
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[22 Mar 2005|09:03pm] |
Who: Ryan, Greg, and Maria
Where: The Apartment of Sin and the House of Whacks
When: Saturday after medweek
What: Adult Content Warning
It's about two in the afternoon when Ryan finally works up the courage to ask Greg, rubbing his shoulders lightly, straddling the small of his back in the ubiquitous black silk pajama bottoms. It had been a good morning, all slow breakfasting and equally slow making out, and he could almost ignore the need burning in his gut. Almost. "So, um."
This is Ryan Wolfe, most well spoken man in the universe.
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| WHEN: Monday (Er, two-three days ahead of most of the current action?) |
[09 Mar 2005|06:59pm] |
Monday morning dawned - Greg professed that it was far too early, but then, Greg would - and with it came Ryan's newly altered beginning-of-the-month ritual. First he kissed Greg, got up, kissed Greg some more, managed to take a shower without doing anything other than kissing Greg (which he now knew from experience was practically a miracle in and of itself). got dressed.
Watched Greg eat his Fruit Loops, smiled. Love him so, so much. Even if he does have an irrational love of processed foods.
Finally got ready to go, kissed Greg again. Verified that he'd be home by five. One of the perks of being your boyfriend's bodyguard is that suddenly, people were less likely to guilt you into working overtime, and when they did, it didn't tend to work. Left, got in the Jetta, drove down to the corner store. Bought his pills and a bottle of water, asked Mr. Hernandez if he was alright, why were his hands shaking?
The old man just shook his head and mumbled. Shrug. Poor old man must be having a bad day.
Got back in the car, snapped the cap off the water, took his meds. Put them under the passenger's seat for safekeeping.
Go to work. Smile.
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[21 Feb 2005|06:39am] |
Ryan surveyed his apartment one last time before he closed the door, dark eyes scanning for anything that might be out of place. It was a nice apartment - gorgeous, really, with a killer view - decorated tastefully, but it still seemed... barren. Like it wasn't really lived in, most certainly not for the three years he'd had it, almost since he'd graduated. With a faint nod he closed the door, listened for the security system's beep almost without thinking, and made the drive to the crime lab in his geriatric Jetta, far too clean and orderly to have been a college car.
When he pulled into his parking space he paused for a moment after killing the engine, stared blankly at his hands, wrapped securely around the wheel at ten and two. Is it always going to be like this? He couldn't help but wonder as he raised his eyes to stare past his windsheild, at the fascinatingly complicated, terrifyingly unordered world. Even if it is, all I've gotta do is get through today.
And with that comforting thought he slid his keys into his pocket, opened the door and stepped outside, economical strides propelling him through the impending panic of chaos, and towards the blessed order of the Lab. Somewhere he could almost - almost - feel at home.
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