From the moment he awoke, agony overtook Ricky's body like an engulfing flame. Recalling the few times in his life he'd felt terrible physical suffering - breaking his arm as a kid, working 12+ hour shifts a handful of times, getting heat stroke once or twice - he came to realize it was a joke to call that pain. That was at least a hundredth of the torture he was feeling now. 

Before he could even fully get his bearings, he felt a strong hand press down on his chest. It wasn't hard, but definitely sturdy. A deep voice followed, speaking calmly in his ear, "I wouldn't open my eyes if I were you. Unless you'd like to be in even more pain. Your body has undergone a lot of change, both surgical and supernatural. You're going to be in a lot of pain until it heals, but it shouldn't take too long. A week, at most. And, on the plus side, you have a very beautiful little nurse to take care of you." 

Ryan stood up straight, removing his strangely comforting touch from Ricky's chest. Strange wasn't even a good word for it. The fact that an evil genius/psychopathic murderer had such a warm, relaxing touch was shocking and a tad disturbing. At the moment, silk bandages were wrapped tightly around Ricky's eyes. Even if he were to open them, he knew he wouldn't be able to see a damn thing. 

While Ryan had spent the past two days working in his shop, Chris had preoccupied his time making room for his new toys. He reorganized the train car closest to his own and turned it into a bedroom. There was still a lot of knick-knacks scattered about. Just enough room had been made for two twin size beds. They were made with off-white silk sheets, bordered with lace, and a faded floral print comforter. A hand knitted blanket had been thrown on top to help with the cold nights. The bedding looked, and smelled, like something out of a stuffy grandma's unused guest bedroom. 

For the time being, there was an IV in Ricky's arm, feeding him a healthy stream of fluids and pain medication. It wasn't good for him to be under much longer than he already had. Though Ryan knew he'd be in pain, it was safer to allow him to wake up. Plus, he didn't think he could keep Chris waiting any longer. His soft yet timid giggle entered the dynamic of the conversation. He was too shy to say any actual words, for now.

"Can you try to speak?" Ryan requested, "Tell us your name?"

Ricky sighed, his voice hoarse in his response, "Haven't you already gone through my shit and found my ID? Or are you going to tell me you're a respectful psychopath?"

"What's a ps-psy-psytopath, Daddy?" Chris whispered.

"A bad word. You don't need to know what it means." He replied, then kissed Chris' cheek, "Sweetie, why don't you go grab your coloring books and a few toys from the other room, so you have something to do while you watch him?"

He smiled happily, "Okay!" 

Ryan watched him run off with a little skip in his step. He was so precious. Sometimes, Chris made him forget he was such a rotten being. Those moments were brief, though. He was very quickly back to being a sadistic monster. Ryan leaned over again, speaking quietly yet viciously into his ear. 

"Of course I went through your shit and found your name. I was testing you to see how cooperative you'd be. I honestly don't care how rude you are to me, but you will be nice to my baby. He's the one that's going to take care of you, so it's the least you could do. I was the one that put you in this much pain, and I can make it much worse if you give me reason to. You will make him happy, and you won't upset him. Are we clear?" 

Ricky gritted his teeth. "Crystal." 

Ryan sighed and stood up straight, rolling back his shoulders. "Just remember, if he gets upset, it'll distract me from my work, meaning it'll be lot longer before you're reunited with your friend. Granted, it won't take me as much time to fix him as it did you. You were a fucking mess." 

"Thanks." He grumbled.

"Try to be a little happier." He replied, giving him a light hit on the chest. Given his current frail state, it felt like he'd been hit by a bus. Ryan completely changed his demeanor when his angel returned. "There's my beauty. Set your things down real quick so I can show you what you need to do for me." 

"Okay, Daddy." 

Chris laid out his coloring books and favorite toys on the unoccupied bed carefully. He made sure not a single stuffed animal was in an uncomfortable position. Then he reported to Ryan's side proudly. He didn't really understand much of what was going on with all the wires and gadgets around. All he knew was that they were important.

Ryan placed his hand on a small chamber connected to the IV. There was some kind of liquid in it, different from what was in the main IV bag. "See this little button? When you press it, it'll release some medicine. You don't want to press it too much because even though it is medicine, too much can hurt him. I want you to press it every time the big hand on the clock is at a number. If he's in too much pain, it's okay to give him a little more if he asks, but not too much. Okay?" 

He nodded, "Got it."

"One more thing." He picked up a thermometer, which was a foreign object to Chris. "Every few hours, I want you to take his temperature. So, you have to put this end in his mouth, and press this button. Wait a minute, and when it beeps, check the numbers on the screen. If it's only two numbers, it's okay. If it's three, then I need you to come and get me. Try to keep the lights dim and talk quietly, so you don't hurt his head. If he wants to sleep, make sure to be real quiet. It's important for him to get good rest to make a good recovery."

"Okay, Daddy. I promise I'll do a really good job! I'll take very good care of him." Chris beamed.

"I trust you, Baby. I better go get to work, now. You know where to find me if you need me." Ryan gave him a sweet kiss on the lips and a tight hug before leaving.

Upon his departure, Ricky actually felt a little bit of weight lift off of him. That man carried such a heavy, evil vibe wherever he went. It wasn't necessarily evil as much as it was intense. He had a strong presence about him, despite the fact that he didn't speak loudly or boast. Chris, of course, never noticed it. That had always just been his Daddy, his creator, and his caregiver. He'd never felt the gravity of Ryan's soul.

Chris sat down on the bed across from Ricky's and crossed his legs under him. He pulled his teddy bear into his lap as he stared over the stranger. This was the first time they'd been left alone since he came here. Actually, this was the first time he'd ever been left alone with someone that wasn't Ryan. It was scary, but intriguing. 

Ricky was much paler than the last time he'd seen him, but the artwork on his arms looked more vibrant. His hair was a few inches longer and noticeably thicker. Once he was fully healed, he'd look even more amazing. Ryan never failed when it came to his work. He was a master at his craft, to say the least. 

"Well, you already know my name," Ricky said, deciding to start up a conversation. Talking was somewhat of a distraction from the deep rooted pain coursing through every bone and muscle of his body. "But I don't think you've told me yours." 

"...Chris." He shyly replied.

"Chris," Ricky repeated to commit it to memory, "How old are you?"

"Three, but Daddy says I look a lot older than most three year olds. That's just the way he made me, though." 

His breath briefly got caught in his throat. Ricky felt his lungs tremble in the moment. "He made you?" 

"Mhm. He's my Daddy, after all. Who else would've made me?" Chris softly giggled, "Daddy makes dollies and toys. That's his job. He has to make them for a collector, but he got lonely. So, he made me to keep him company."

"Why hasn't he made more of you? More like you, I guess I should say." 

He frowned, "I've asked him to make me friends, but he says he's not allowed to anymore. But," He quickly smiled again, "Now I have you!"

"Yeah, I guess you do... So, there's no one else down here, except you two?" Ricky asked.

"No one that I like..." Chris muttered, changing the subject suddenly, "Why'd you come down here? Daddy said not a lot of people do, and they usually only come down here for bad reasons."

"It wasn't a bad reason. I do photography on the side, and I like to take pictures in abandon places. We thought this place was abandon, anyways. My friend, Ghost, is really pretty, and I like to take him to these places with me to have a model. I heard there were some flooded tunnels down here, and that's what we were looking for."

"There are!" He cheerfully replied, "I've seen them a few times. Daddy doesn't like me going down there. He says it's dirty, but maybe he'll let me take you there when you're better." 

That instantly made the wheels in his head start turning. It'd be easily to manipulate Chris into helping them leave, if Ricky played his cards right. Despite how young he was, he knew his way around this place. "Have you ever left the tunnels?" 

"I've tried. I wanna see what it's like up there, but Daddy's caught me every time. He says I'm not allowed to leave, even though he does. It's not fair." He huffed. 

"There are bad things up there. Bad people, but there's just as much good. You just have to know where to look."

"Will you tell me about it? Please?" Chris pleaded.

Ricky sighed shortly, "Maybe a little later, Sweetie. I'm actually really tried right now and I'd like to get some sleep."

"Oh, okay. I'll be here when you wake up." 

Well, there were a lot worse people he could be stuck with as company. A toddler was of the better options, compared to the many possibilities for the given situation. Ricky, much like Ghost, had realized that this could've been a lot worse. It was still fucking terrible. They were being held hostage by a sick bastard that somehow gave life to fucking doll. At least they weren't dead.