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fill | heavy in your arms [4c/?]

[anonymous]

Jesse comes back from isolation about half an hour after dinner. Andrew doesn’t open his eyes at the sound of the cell door sliding open beside his head, or at the noise of Jesse’s handcuffs coming off. There’s murmuring between Jesse and a guard outside, then Jesse says ‘oh,’ very quietly, sadly. Andrew’s neck burns with shame: now Jesse knows too.

Jesse doesn’t say anything further, just steps very quietly, like he’s being careful not to wake Andrew up, and then there’s the sound of him reading, the papery noise of fingertips tracing odd tracks across pages. He isn’t on his bunk: Andrew would have felt the bed shake as he clambered up.

‘Jesse?’ he asks softly, into the open air of the cell. The noise from the corner stops. Andrew opens his eyes. Jesse has frozen, staring at him.

‘Yes?’ Jesse asks quietly.

‘Why did you, I mean - there’s no reason you should have done that,’ Andrew begins, and winces. ‘You could have just left them to it.’

No emotion crosses Jesse’s face, he just stares at Andrew.

‘You,’ Jesse pauses, then grates at his lip with his teeth, an action Andrew knows well - it’s one of his habits too, to bite at his mouth to stop the words coming out all stuttering and wrong. Jesse swallows. Those blue eyes stare directly at Andrew. ‘You don’t seem like a rapist,’ Jesse says cautiously, and Andrew laughs one angry bark at the air. ‘And you definitely don’t fight like someone who killed three people in the space of half an hour.’

‘I,’ Andrew says, but his mouth wont let the other words out. ‘They were my friends,’ he says instead. ‘How could I have ever hurt them like that?’

Jesse’s eyes flicker, then his gaze stares directly out the gate of the cell. ‘That wouldn’t be a concern for some people,’ he says, finally. Andrew closes his eyes.

‘I can’t keep-’ Andrew begins, then stops. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Jesse says, and silence falls.