Oz Graffixation #4
Artist:
ellu_ellu
Under Glass by dustandroses
Title: Under Glass
Author: dustandroses
Beta: ozsaur, my hero and shit
Character: Dino Ortolani
Rating: PG13 for Language and talk of Violence
Warnings: Here there be bugs, descriptions of serious illness and homophobia.
Summary: Trapped behind the transparent walls of Em City, Dino struggles to keep himself sane in a world that is clearly in need of a good pest exterminator. Only thing is, sometimes it’s hard to keep straight who exactly are the pests?
Spoilers: Season One, Episode One, The Routine
Word Count: 1552 words
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em - not making any money off 'em. Dern it.
That was a big cockroach. Not huge like the ones they got in the cafeteria, but still damn big for a fucking roach. It sat there on McManus' desk under a glass, trying to climb up the sides, even though the glass was too slick for it to hang onto for long. It scrabbled at the sides as it slid back down, then finally just surrendered to the inevitable and sat there, its feelers wiggling.
Dino was immediately drawn to it, he felt just like that himself, every fucking day. The glass walls of Em City were a transparent prison Dino could never escape. He grabbed a pen off the desk and tapped on the side of the glass, attracting the roach's attention. Like the fucking hacks, tapping their sticks against the Plexiglas walls of Dino's prison. Might as well be waving their dicks, showing how big they were - how much more powerful they were than the scum inside the cages. Cockroaches under a fucking glass.
Dino had to laugh when McManus spoke about how even a lifer could still have a purpose. Shit. That sick fuck was obviously on the good stuff. If they could bottle his idealistic bullshit they’d make a mint. Dino was going to die in Oz - the only ‘purpose’ for someone like him was to take as many people down with him as he could when he finally flamed out.
Jesus. McNutjob really liked to hear himself talk. Telling Dino how terrible he was for bashing in the face of that fag. The fucker got what he deserved. Showing off in the showers, grabbing his dick and getting it hard right in front of Dino. What the fuck did he expect would happen if he did shit like that? Dino was a man, for fuck's sake. He didn't take that fag shit lying down. He wasn't gonna put up with that crap from anybody.
When that fucking bastard said he was being transferred to the AIDS ward, Dino lost it. He ran the kitchen! That was his job, and he was good at it. No one was going to take that away from him. It didn’t matter what he said, Dino wasn’t getting near those diseased fucks. McManus thought he was so far above the rest of them, sitting up here in his office, all safe and protected from the slime he wanted to ‘save’ from themselves.
So much better than the rest of us, huh? See how you like it when we crawl out from under our cages after your ass. He grabbed the cockroach and threw it at the fucker. McManus lost his cool then, cursing and calling Dino names. He didn’t like getting that close to the roaches, did he? Fucking McCunt.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” D’Angelo looked like he might puke. “I can’t believe McManus fed you to the fucking queers in the AIDS ward, man.”
“It’s mostly junkies, Joey.” Dino found himself echoing Schibetta’s words, trying to make himself feel better about his situation. He couldn’t believe Schibetta was making him wipe the asses of those diseased fucks. He hadn’t figured out how to do it yet, but he’d make McFuckass pay for sticking him there. He’d only been on bedpan duty for a day, but already he was sick of it. He’d kept his face mask on the whole time he was on duty - it helped filter out the smell of disease and decay that was rank in the air. It was like the dying men oozed that shit out of their pores or something.
He’d come back afterwards and taken a second shower to wash the stink off his skin. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done - staying in that ward for his entire shift. But he was damned if McManus was going to hear that Dino was a pussy who couldn’t take the shit he had to shovel in the AIDS ward. He’d bring McManus down over this, one way or another.
Dino leaned back against the shelf of canned goods and took another puff of his cig. He pointed his finger at D’Angelo, the smoke trailing behind as he gestured. “The headline reads: McManus is going down. Even if I have to go down with him to keep him there, that fucking prick is dead.”
D’Angelo shook his head, “He’s not worth that, man. Stick it out for a while, and Nino will get tired of me bitching about the kitchen and he’ll pull some strings and get you back here where you belong. You’ll see. Just don’t bitch at him, okay? The more you push him, the harder he’ll dig his heels in. You know Nino - he’s stubborn as hell. You let me do the complaining, and he’ll see that he needs you here.”
“You’ll do okay.” Dino shrugged. D’Angelo wasn’t the leader that the kitchen needed. He did a decent job as Dino’s second in command, but without Dino’s muscle to back him up, he’d have a hard time keeping the kitchen crew in line. “They’re paying attention to you, right? I threatened to kick their asses if they didn’t treat you right.”
“Yeah, they’re working for me. But Dino - I need you in charge so I can do my job. I can’t do both at once. It ain’t gonna work.”
“Its okay, Joey. Just do the best you can, alright? I’ll be back soon.”
D’Angelo nodded. “Once you’re back, we’ll let McManus get settled. When he thinks he’s safe, then we’ll take him out, and you’ll be in the clear. We’ll take care of that fuck, Dino. You’ll see.”
Dino dropped his smoke, grinding it out under his heel. He saw the hack he’d bribed to let him into the kitchen looking at his watch. “Shit. Look, I gotta go.”
D’Angelo glanced over at the hack frowning. “You just got here.”
“Yeah, well, I guess a pack of smokes don’t get you as far as it used to, huh?” He clapped D’Angelo on the shoulder. “Hang in there, man. Next time, don’t let them talk you into keeping damaged tomatoes, okay? Nino was not happy with his salad. You got a perfect right to refuse that shit, so don’t let them saddle you with crap.”
“Yeah, all right.” D’Angelo ducked his head, looking embarrassed. Well he should be. Those tomatoes had been fucked. He’d hear about it tonight from Schibetta, but that was actually in Dino’s favor. The worse job D’Angelo did in the kitchen, the sooner Schibetta would bring back Dino.
The hack took a sudden step backwards, his eyes focused on the floor, wide with shock. “What the fuck is that?”
Dino laughed, crossing to crush a huge-ass roach into the cement with a well-timed stomp. “What? You never saw a fat cockroach before?”
He wiped his shoe off on the floor as D’Angelo joined them. “Sorry pal, I squashed your favorite pet roach. What did you call that one? Timmy boy?”
Joey snorted smoke out his nose, laughing. “Nah, that one was Leo. Timmy’s still wandering around here, somewhere.”
“That’s enough, gentlemen. Let’s go, Ortolani.”
Dino guessed the hack didn’t like the comparison. If the shoe fits, asshole.
Dino started awake in the early hours of the morning, gasping for breath. His dreams had been full of AIDS junkies with scabby sores on their faces and cockroaches crawling out from under hospital beds with faces that he recognized. They’d all been there: Schibetta, D’Angelo, Keane, Adebisi, that new Muslim guy Said, even that fucking Nazi Schillinger - now there was a real slimy roach if he ever saw one.
He got up and stuck his head under the faucet, letting the cold water cool his fevered skin. He leaned on the door of his pod, staring out into the dim of nighttime Em City, water running down his neck and soaking into the fabric of his undershirt. He flashed suddenly on the roach on McManus’ desk, scrabbling against the glass as it struggled futilely to escape. That was Dino - a fucking cockroach under a glass. That was every fucking one of them in here. Fighting their prison, but getting nowhere. Where did they think they were going, anyway?
He turned away from the glass wall and sat on his bunk, reaching underneath for a pack of cigarettes. Lighting up, he blew the smoke at the ceiling, watching it spiral away. He turned and fell back against his pillow, ashing off the edge of the bed, wishing he could at least dream about the future. But he was here for life, no parole, no escape. He was here until they dragged his sorry ass out in a pine box. There was no place left for him to go except hell.
He stubbed out his smoke and threw the butt under the bunk to join the others already there. He tried to see himself at fifty, doing the same things he’d spent half his life doing; following the same fucking routine over and over again. Shit. Dino hadn’t had an ounce of luck since that fucking Fed had tried to arrest him and he’d shot the fucker dead. Luck? He laughed bitterly. If he was lucky, he’d be in hell a fuck of a lot sooner than fifty.