prison cellmates!jjafe. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday season and has an even better new year <3
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BZZZZT. LIGHTS OUT. ALL INMATES TO REMAIN IN BEDS UNTIL 0600.
Rafe leaned over the edge of the bunk. Itās bolted into the wall securely enough that he felt comfortable hanging half his torso off the edge to nose in on what JJ was doing. Doodling, it seemed, with a golf pencil and some scratch paper, illuminated by a tiny book light Rafe had no idea where he got. Maybe a friend brought it in for him.Ā
The lights in the unit were never totally out, but no one wanted eye strain from pushing it without the overhead fluorescents. The teeny battery must have been dying, only powering enough of a glow for the artist to see his work, but Rafeās sharp blue eyes were able to make out that heās sketching their cell, and that it wasnāt very good. Perspective was all wonky, he was pressing too hard in some of the shading, he left the top bunk empty.Ā
āDonāt know why youāre trying to document this place,ā Rafe murmured, picking up JJās attention with that practiced timbre that only cellmates can catch. āThereās nothing here that I want to remember when I leave.ā In eight years, ten months, and sixteen days.Ā
The little pencil kept scratching on the page as he filled in the shadow below the sink, and he ignored the snark. He was always quiet in the cellā quite the contrast to how he ribbed around with the other inmates during the day, in the cafeteria, out in the yard. JJ arrived a few months ago and didnāt make the typical mistake of over-exerting his presence, bowing up to a huge guy to establish dominance and hilariously getting body slammed into a bench. No, he was justā¦ easygoing. Talkative. Always offered to spot other guys at the racks and didnāt argue about what the TV was set to in the rec room. He even joked around with Rafe playing bones with the chipped dominoes, so he knew it wasnāt anything personal when they retreated to their hole and the boy went mute.Ā
Stillā¦ it stung when the bids for attention were left hanging. He kept trying.Ā
āAre you ever gonna really tell me why youāre here?ā Rafe prodded. He knew it was bad etiquette, and he didnāt go around taking a census of everyone he met, but he figured itād be in his best interest to ask about the recent history of the man he slept above each night.Ā
Exceptā he was annoyingly secretive about it. Not that he refused to talk about it, the opposite; in the short time heād shared a cell with the guy, heād heard no less than six different crimes that landed him there. None of the guards cared to spill, and nobody went to the same courthouse as him to corroborate or deny his stories, so he seemingly rolled with whatever popped into his mind when questioned in casual conversation. Burned down a Wendyās. Caught moving six hundred pounds of green. Dogfighting bookie. Busted selling counterfeit Yeti cups to suburban moms. It was clearly a joke to him, something to brush off the discussion and move back to whoās supposed to deal the next round.Ā
Amateur. Rafe was too nosy for that aversion.Ā
āMānot gonna judge you,ā he added, honestly. āI mean, if you touched kids, youād already be with the other chomos. So what happened? You try to outrun a cop and realize you canāt outrun the radio?ā
That got a soft laugh, just a little puff out of his nose, and for him to look up. His angular face caught the underlighting around his cheekbones and eyes, crinkled up at his bunkmate. āWhy do you wanna know so bad?ā
Rafe lifted a land lazily, a shrug without even using his shoulders. āBonding.ā
Another giggle. JJ went back to filling in the texture of the concrete walls. Bed checks had been about fifteen minutes ago, meaning no one would poke around their cell for another hour or so. Rafe clambered off the bunk until his light feet hit the floor, then dropped down to sit cross-legged on the cement.Ā
āDo you know why Iām here?ā Itās a peace offering: a reminder that, most likely, nobody had any room to judge if they were in the same damn cell. Information wasnāt free, anyways.
Tough to tell if heād piqued his interest when he wordlessly flipped the page over and started sketching on the back. A few more moments of silence and Rafe wouldāve yielded and crawled back up the ladder, conceding to try another day.Ā
āYou killed your old man.ā
The story was out but slightly skewed. Rafe had no issue admitting the charges on himā driving under the influence, vehicular manslaughter. Multiple bad decisions in a single night, his father shouting at him in the passenger seat, a thick tree trunk that came out of nowhere, swerving to avoid it andā nothing more. He woke up handcuffed to a hospital bed with nurses that sneered at him and a preset court date.Ā
āYeah.ā Rafe thumbed at a crack in the floor, then gagged when his hand came up dirtied. He wiped it on his canvas pants. āSo itās not like Iām here for donating too much to charity. Iāve fucked up. You can tell me.ā
If he wasnāt encouraging him to open up, he was at least entertaining. JJās lip curled up into a little smirk, but it disappeared when he pressed his lips together uncomfortably. Rafe was inches from almost pouting, begging to know what was so awful he couldnāt confide in someone who pinned his flesh and blood father between the center console and a hundred-ten year old magnolia. But just before he jutted out his lower lipā
āSame reason as you, actually.ā
His jaw dropped. āNo shit.ā It was a hair too loud, and the burly guy next door stirred. They both froze, waiting for the creaking to stop as he found his sleep again, then Rafe continued. āSorry, justā really?ā
JJ nodded. āIt wasnāt the same, though. I meant to do it, and Iād do it again if I had the chance.ā
If ever there was a time to shut up, Rafe knew this was it. This chick had to hatch alone.Ā
āHeā¦ didnāt treat me too good. I guess one day, I just snapped.ā He wouldnāt make eye contact now. JJ focused entirely on his drawing until the pointed tip of lead broke off his little pencil. He sighed, then pressed the pad of his index finger against the loose graphite. āI beat him with a whiskey bottle. He was chasing after me, trying to choke me out, and I grabbed the first thing I found. I know one hit wouldāve been fine, but once I saw him on the ground, finally defenselessāā
JJ pinched the lead tip until it crumbled between his fingers. He brushed it off his bed, careful not to fling it too hard towards Rafe. Still didnāt look at him, though.Ā
āI know I probably deserve to be somewhere worse. For longer. But the judge went easy on me.ā His lids fluttered shut and he leaned his head on one of the bars of his bed. āI lifted my shirt at one of my hearings, and I still had marks on my ribs and chest from him. The man was dead, and you could still see what he did to me. Hard to walk away from that with more than the minimum sentencing, in a prison far from the rest of his family.ā
He went back to drawing, face pinched in concentration as he worked with the broken graphite. It was a good thing the kid wouldnāt make eye contact, because Rafeās were probably bugging out of his head. JJ couldnātā he wouldnāt hurt anyone. He didnāt even like watching WWE. Not like Rafe didnāt know the idea of a limit being broken, though.Ā
āIt wasnāt an accident,ā he blurted, and JJ finally, finally looked up from his paper. His brows were furrowed, and Rafe gasped when he realized what heād just admitted. āWhat I did. Everyone thinks it was, even my lawyers and family.ā
He thought for a moment heād already said too much, but there was no stopping the words that spilled out.Ā
āMy father was an evil, powerful man, and Iām not the only one heā¦ā Rafeās thoughts drifted away, gaze locking on the scuffed wall behind his cellmate. āI had to stop him and I didnāt care if it killed me. Literally. I donāt know how Iām alive, I thought I drove hard enough into the tree to take us both out. I told the cops I was on coke and a saliva test came back positive because Iād done it the night before. Iā¦ā He remembered what JJ said earlier. āIād do it again, too. Fuck, Iād try different methods to see which felt the best. I donāt care. And I donāt remember much, but I hope it wasnāt instant. I hope he suffered.ā
Several beats passed before he caught his breath. Jesus Christ. What was wrong with him? He blinked hard, scanning over the boyās face for some indication that heād gone too far, that heād revealed what a disturbed fuck he really was. One whiff of connection and he sang like a canary.Ā
Like he could read his goddamn mindā āBirds of a feather.ā JJ smiled, utterly unfazed. āThey stuck us together for a reason, huh?ā He calmly flipped the paper up again and held it to the light, revealing the rough sketch of Rafeās face. Shockingly a much better portrait artist than of interior space. āCāmon. Letās get some sleep.ā
