Deluca

TWENTY-EIGHT

Eleanor sent another prayer up to whoever had been listening to her prayers that had woken Francesco up. Except now, she was praying for patience. Francesco woke up on his worst behavior, mad that he'd been shot. Mad that he had to heal, mad that he couldn't work.

It had been a little over a week — eight days exactly since Francesco had first awoken. He was groggy and in pain, but soon after the doctors were able to get him to calm down with a heavy dose of morphine.

He had healed incredibly well for his body to have taken so much damage. While healing hospital-wise had been graceful, the pain and sensitivity he felt had been less than.

After discharging him, he hadn't been able to move around the house properly, unable to completely stand on his own. Tonight would be their first night on their own, but until nightfall, the family was there to assist.

One of his blessings was that he had plenty of family members nearby who would take care of him — not that he was thankful for it at all.

All of his frustrations were taken out on whoever had been standing nearby him. Quite frequently Eleanor went unharmed while Giselle, Giuseppe, and the nurse took the brunt of it all.

Through it all Eleanor was grateful to finally be home. It stood as if it had been waiting on the family's bustling return, and now that everyone was here the chaos felt welcome.

Eleanor stood off the side of their bed, waiting for Giuseppe to help Francesco sit up for the nurse. Francesco let out a string of curses before he was fully sitting up on his own, but still not letting go of Giuseppe's hand.

Eleanor watched as her husband's voice blew out in rage words that she couldn't understand. She tried her best to hold her tongue as she watched his equally stubborn family curse back at him.

Before she let her willpower break, there was a soft knock on the bedroom door. Everyone turned at once to see just who stood in the doorway.

Enzo stood with a cocky grin on his face, he looks self-satisfied as he looked at the pitiful state Francesco was in.

"Just when I thought someone had finally killed you." Enzo chuckled walking into the room and slapping Francesco a little too hard on his back.

"Get out of here, asshole," Francesco grumbled at him.

Eleanor pushed him away, "If you aren't here to help you might as well just leave."

"I am helping, I am the tension relief." Enzo shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed. Giuseppe stepped back watching Francesco finish adjusting himself on the bed.

They had managed to set up a room downstairs for him so Francesco would have the ability to move around the house without worrying about the stairs.

The room they were in was admittedly neglected, but Eleanor and Cara spent the morning preparing the room, trying to make it as comfortable as possible.

Giuseppe had even done the due diligence to purchase a television for the room to keep Francesco from getting bored, though Francesco was likely to not linger in the room for long.

He was itching to get back to work, and he had made it obvious to Eleanor every chance he got. Each time she managed to placate him without agreeing, knowing it wasn't possible for him to truly argue back any of her demands.

"You should be set now, of course, I will keep acting as you until you're fully better." Giuseppe said, "You have nothing to worry about."

"I have everything to worry about when you're in charge," Francesco grumbled.