Right Room, Wrong Inhabitant
Characters: Jackson and Rebekah Setting: Outside Jackson's room, dawn
It was a little bit chilly out, but with her long sleeves, jeans, and tennis shoes, Becka hardly felt it. She just hurried from her new room, locking the door behind her, and headed down the stairs, keeping close to the wall. As she passed rooms, she couldn’t help but pick up her pace, hoping that their inhabitants were still fast asleep and would not notice her hurrying past. It seemed luck was with her, as no one peeked through their drapes or opened their doors, and then she was standing outside Leandro’s door.
Sucking in a deep breath, she let it out slowly as her hand hesitated in the air. Was she sure about this? Leandro was nothing if not enthusiastic, and despite the fact that they’d slept snuggled together the other night, she found herself uncertain about whether or not she could actually handle what she was here for. The desire to see him, to have just a moment of normalcy that she was sure he would be able to provide outweighed her fear, though, and she finally knocked on the door.
Jackson was having the loveliest dream. He was curled up on his unfamiliar bed, arm tucked under his head and pillow bunched up against the headboard. In his dream, there was a man spread before him, tied down to a bed and looking up at him in wide eyed fear. Jackson gripped his head firmly in his hand, keeping him from turning away as he brought the scalpel down to one bright blue eye. “This is what you get for looking at others,” Jackson whispered fiercely. Over the protests and screams from his captor, he heard another sound. He looked up, twisting his head around to look at the bedroom door. “The fuck?” he muttered.
And then his eyes opened to reality and he found himself on his unfamiliar bed with the beautiful guy gone, and the sound of knocking coming from the other side of his door. With a groan, he rolled out of bed and padded his way barefoot to the door, opening it a crack to see who was on the other side. When he saw the girl standing there, he frowned, opening his door wider. “Can... I’m sorry, but can I help you?” he asked, confusion etched on his face.
With the early hour, she hadn’t expected a response right away, but that didn’t mean her resolve didn’t start crumbling when it took a minute for her to hear movement inside. While she waited, she tugged her sleeves down and shifted awkwardly. She shouldn’t have have come here, and... The door opened, and Becka realized that she really shouldn’t have come here. “I... You... You’re not... Is Leandro here?” she murmured, eyes wide in surprise and confusion. Had Leandro ended things with Kyle and moved on to someone else? She knew they’d had some issues, but she’d hoped that they would have worked things out.
Jackson’s frown deepened. Leandro? He looked behind him as though someone would materialize out of thin air, this mystery man named Leandro. He looked back to her and shook his head once. “I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his eyes and wondering if he was still dreaming. “I don’t know anyone named Leandro, so I don’t think he’d come to my room. I’m Jackson. I just moved in.” If you wanted to call it moving in. This place was weird for him. After 3 years in prison, he didn’t know what to think of a place that allowed so much freedom, even if those freedoms appeared to be slowly being taken away.
As confused as Jackson seemed to be, Becka was even more so, her mind having difficulty wrapping around what should have been obvious by that point. Leandro wasn’t here anymore. “I... No, this is Leandro’s room. He... You just moved in? When?” she asked, thinking that it was of vital importance to know just how long Leandro had been gone.
“The other day?” Jackson answered, now uncertain of himself as well. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I’m sorry....who are you?” he asked, trying to make sense of what was going on. He looked at his wrist for a watch but realized he wasn’t wearing one. “What time is it, anyway?” He looked out his window and saw it was still dark outside. Which meant it was too fucking early o’ clock.
The other day. So he must have been gone even before... Before. Why? Why would they have taken him away? Or maybe he’d just moved rooms. But that didn’t seem right, not when he’d gone to so much effort to put his room just the way he’d wanted it. It was like a kick to her stomach, and she felt her eyes filling with moisture. It was selfish of her, she knew, because she just wanted him here. But he wasn’t, and the guy who’d taken his place was talking to her, and she tried to focus on him. “Umm, I don’t know. Early. I’m sorry, if I’d known... I woke you up, and I should... I should go,” she babbled a bit, her arms wrapping around her middle as she took a small step back.
Jackson looked at her closely, seeing her eyes filled with tears. Sure, he was in here for torturing and killing many men, but that didn’t mean he was heartless. He opened his door all the way and stepped out into the hall, his face drawn with concern. “Hey,” he said quietly, his voice gentle. “Don’t cry, okay? I’m sorry you didn’t find who you were looking for. Maybe you just have the wrong room?” he offered, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “I can help you find your friend if you’d like. There aren’t too many places he could go.”
When the guy stepped out of his room, Becka couldn’t help but take another small step back, shaking her head at his words. No, she knew that she didn’t have the wrong room, but all thoughts of it were pushed from her mind when he touched her, and she flinched heavily, taking a few quick steps away from him. God, she hated this! She hated to feel so overwhelmed by what was supposed to be a light, comforting contact, and she’d never hated someone more than she hated whoever had attacked her, nevermind the fact that she didn’t actually know who she was hating. “No. He’s... This was his room. If he’s not here... If he’s gone, he’s gone. He didn’t have any reason to switch rooms, and so he’s gone, and there’s nothing to do for it. They do this, they take people away for no reason.” Or maybe they had given a reason, she didn’t know. She was just guessing at this point.
Jackson was alarmed when she flinched away from him, and wondered for a brief moment if she recognized him. But that was silly. If she recognized him, then that would mean she’d know what he was in for, and that would mean she’d know he was no threat to her. There must have been another reason. His alarm only grew when she mentioned how they just took people away without reason, his eyebrows drawing up to his hairline. “They do?” he asked, looking up and down the hall suspiciously, wondering if anyone lurked around the corner, ready to jump out and pull him away, kicking and screaming. He could feel his anxiety rising and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be moved around anymore. I thought when they brought me here, this was where I’d stay.”
Becka was so alarmed by the fact that Leandro was apparently gone that she was having trouble focusing on anything else at that moment. She didn’t know who this guy was; all she knew about him was that he was the guy who’d taken over Leandro’s room. His words did manage to push through her mind, and she bit her lip as she looked up at him. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen it happen, but I know people have been removed. Some of them to other facilities.” Dominic. God, what would he say if he knew everything that had happened since he’d left? “Others, I don’t know, maybe back to their previous prisons. Have you been moved around a lot?” she asked, distracted for the moment at least.
Jackson shook his head. “No, I was at the last place for 3 years before I came here, but this is a huge change and I’m having trouble adapting, the last thing I need is to be moved again.” He glanced both ways down the hall again before focusing his eyes on her. “Who would dream up a place where there are no guards between people? What’s to stop us from killing each other? By the time someone responds, it would be too late.” He looked along the ceiling, searching out surveillance cameras. “I just don’t know what to make of it here. There’s alcohol free for anyone to drink, a kitchen free for anyone to enter. Some people shouldn’t be allowed around such things for the safety of other people.” He looked back at her. “Wasn’t that the whole purpose of bars?”
As the man spoke, Becka both hated and couldn’t help the suspicion that rose up in her. It would be too late. His words echoed in her head, flashes of both memory and images her mind had made up from things she’d heard going through her mind. Caroline falling to her death, Wren being attacked, the darkness that had surrounded her the night before last. No, they weren’t safe here. She knew that all too well. He said he’d got here the other day, and so what if? What if he’d done it and was just too good of an actor to let it show? What if he was just pretending not to know who she was or what was going on around here? She felt her pulse begin to race as panic overwhelmed her. She tried to focus on everything else he was saying, on the question he was asking, but she couldn’t quite get there with her thoughts and fears swirling around her mind like a tornado.
Jackson was still looking for cameras still when he noticed she hadn’t said anything. He looked from the ceiling to her, his eyebrows raising in question. “You alright?” he asked. He knew they weren’t safe. No one was really safe. You don’t unleash a monster and then expect it not to hurt people. Even if it wasn’t on purpose. He was supposed to be okay. He was supposed to be doing better. But sometimes at night he still laid in bed, looking up at the ceiling and painting it in blood.
The thoughts and fears were like a deafening static in her mind, and it took her a minute to realize that he’d asked her something more. She looked at him blankly for a moment, trying to process whatever it was he’d asked, and when she did, she shook her head. “I’m fine,” she lied poorly. “I’m fine,” she repeated, firmer this time. “I’m sorry I woke you up. If I’d known Leandro was gone... I’m sorry.” Hadn’t she already said that? She couldn’t remember and she was just feeling so overwhelmed and even a bit sick.
Jackson took a step backwards towards his door, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “Alright,” he said, wondering if maybe something happened to her that made her.....he didn’t want to use the term ‘off her rocker’, but that seemed like the best way to describe it. So far, all the ladies he’d met were quite interesting. “Well,” he began, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry about your friend. Wherever he is, I hope he’s okay.” He almost reached for her again to comfort her but thought better of it.
Becka wrapped her arms a little tighter around her middle and gave a short nod to the guy. She wasn’t making a good impression, she knew that on some level, but at the same time she just couldn’t help it, not with the whirlwind of emotions she was feeling. “Thanks, me too.” This was decidedly awkward now, and she couldn’t think of a graceful exit, so she went with abrupt and effective instead. “Umm, I’ll let you get back... to sleep or whatever,” she said, lips lifting in a pathetic attempt at a smile. “Sorry again,” she added as she took a step back away from him and toward the stairs.
Jackson was torn at this point. Part of him wanted to reach out to her, offer her some sort of reassurance and comfort. But how could he reassure and comfort anyone when his own head was a mess? He licked his lips, watching her as she backed away, debating on what he should do. Invite her inside, a small voice in the back of his head whispered. She could be a friend to you. But another, much louder voice was telling him to just let her walk away. In the end, it was the louder voice that won out. “Good night,” he said quietly, though really it was almost day now.
Although it was a knee-jerk reaction to point out that with the sun up, it was hardly night, Becka merely gave him a slight nod and turned to walk away. Apparently she’d missed out on a heck of a lot during her self imposed isolation, and it was very disconcerting. So, she made her way back to her new room with the intention of attempting to catch up on as much as she could.