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fill | heavy in your arms [3b/?]

[anonymous]

warnings: VIOLENCE, HOMOPHOBIA (above, SORRY ;___;) + more of the same to come oh and um, I stole from Holy Rollers. I couldn't think of something and then it kinda fit. Ish.
Sorry about that, I meant to warn but you know, anon = no editing, plus I am not well right now. Sorry!

He stays in the cell the next day whenever he can. He eats, works, eats, works, hides, eats and returns to his cell. Jesse leaves for rec, but Andrew has never seen him in the yard - he assumes he goes back to the library.

After two more days of this, Jesse stands by the cell door waiting for it to open. He’s staring at Andrew, whose pillow is bunched up against the bars of the cell door as a backrest. Andrew has long finished The Chrysalids and is reading To Kill a Mockingbird for the thousandth time.

‘You should go outside,’ Jesse says, leaning against the wall. Andrew looks at him from over his book. Jesse’s fingers crook against his pants, like a nervous twitch, though his face doesn’t look anxious.

Andrew swallows. ‘I don’t really want more broken ribs,’ he says, voice hard. ‘But thank you.’

‘You need to go outside, or you’ll go insane,’ Jesse tells him, blinking once. ‘I’ve been here for three years. I know.’

Three years. Andrew is at this prison for the rest of his life, and yet three years sounds like an infinitely longer period of time. It’s tangible, while life seems so impossible, abstract. (When he thinks too hard about it though, it is solid and painful, envisaging a future where he’s eighty years old and lying on an uncomfortable bed in a cell. If he even makes it to eighty.)

‘What did you do?’ he blurts before he can stop himself. He bites down hard on his lip, leaving an imprint on the inside of his mouth from his lower teeth. Jesse looks at him, considering, sucking his bottom lip in to rest between his teeth.

‘I made some very poor decisions and ruined the lives of a lot of people,’ he says. ‘I’ll tell you, if you leave this cell.’

Jesse is bargaining with him, though it's beyond Andrew why he cares.

At least he’ll be next to Jesse this time. Jesse knows what he’s getting into, it’ll be his own fault when he gets half of the beating.

Andrew isn’t even really sure why these men want to hurt him. The ring leader has changed since the first attack, but it’s the same men as back-up. He has a feeling it’s to do with him being gay - something the court reporters had put in their articles - and about Kiera and Carey.

‘Okay, fine.’ Andrew accedes finally, standing up just as the cell doors slide open.

Jesse starts talking as they walk toward the staircase leading to the ground floor. ‘I have an anxiety disorder, and I got pulled into drugs as an escape,’ he says. ‘My parents aren’t rich. My mom is a retired clown, and my dad is a professor.’

‘You still talk to your parents?’ Andrew asks. His stomach feels like there is a hook inside it, pulling down from his navel. Jesse looks at him sideways, curious, as they walk in pairs toward the yard. ‘Yeah, they visit every two weeks.’

Andrew wants to start crying again. Jesse doesn’t ask.

‘I started smuggling to pay for the habit. There are a lot of small Jewish smuggling rings,’ he explains. ‘We used young Jewish kids and it worked for a while. I made some serious money.’ He shrugs. ‘It was stupid, and I’ll never stop paying for it, but one of the kids I was watching got scared and told the cops. He died overnight in a holding cell, and it’s my fault.’

‘You didn’t run the ring though,’ Andrew says, half asking as they step into the sunlight outside the prison block. He really wants to ask if Jesse is Jewish, he's really curious.