Megan Louise Mills (inspiteofall) wrote in rrinitiative, @ 2013-02-28 06:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | cal, cal and meg, cal and reece, day twelve, meg, meg and reece, reece |
Behind Bars...Again
Characters: Meg, Reece and Cal
Setting: The detention area, morning
Really it was inevitable that Meg had found herself in one of the detention cells, even without her run in with Susanna, it was only ever going to have been a matter of time before she got herself into trouble. Still, she wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed with herself or impressed that she had wound up as the detention centre’s first ‘visitor’, back to the bars as she resolutely ignored the man who had put her there. Instead she stared at the bare wall in front of her, as yet unmarred by any kind of graffiti and wishing she had something on her she could use to change that - didn’t seem right, a prison wall with nothing written or scratched into it. Deep down she knew she wasn’t doing herself any favours with her behaviour but didn’t care enough to stop, regardless of what kind of picture she was painting of herself.
Reece was fucking exhausted. He already hated this job even if he was good for it and now he hadn't left since sometime yesterday afternoon. The night had been spent banging on the bars every so often because of her concussion which meant he'd gotten even less sleep than she had. Looking at the clock on the wall he glanced at her. "Still alive?" He asked leaning against the wall near her cell.
The ache in her skull may have dulled down from the pounding sensation of the day before but it was a long way from gone which, teamed with a distinct lack of proper sleep, meant she was feeling distinctly uncharitable towards the man who had spent the night keeping her awake, regardless of the fact that it had been for her own good. She had nowhere near enough energy to summon any kind of witty come back to his question, let alone get annoyed so she settled for flipping him the bird with her left hand, the right still too tender from where Susanna had twisted it during their fight to use.
Reece rolled his eyes with a scowl. "Check one on the trailer trash bitch then," he said wondering if it would have been easier if she had just passed out or not made it through the night.
Meg actually let out a huff of amusement at that and let her head loll to the side so she could see Reece. “So what the cat fight upstairs didn’t count as check one?” she asked. “‘sides, I thought the outfit gave me away on that score.” She held no illusions about herself in that regard and unlike many she’d met, had never shied away from the trailer trash label, instead wearing it like a perverse badge of pride.
"More checking off that you aren't dead yet," he said, voice gruff and unamused. He wasn't trailer trash, not that much better, but enough to look down on the type. "Shame."
“Feeling kinda hostile this morning are we Kentucky?” she said, twisting slightly to get a better look at him.
"Considering I haven't slept and you stabbed a friend of mine, yes." Reece glared for a moment but then wound up rubbing his forehead. He was too tired for the nonsense.
“Didn’t ask you to stay up all night baby-sitting did I?” Meg pointed out. “Coulda just let me sleep, got some shut eye yourself but you didn’t so don’t go poutin’ about bein’ tired and it bein’ a shame I woke up this morning ‘cause that was your choice, not mine.”
He watched her for a moment, still obviously not amused, but wound up rolling his eyes at himself. “What can I say? I’m actually not a bad guy. Nor am I the bad guy here.” He looked at her again narrowing his eyes as he studied her. “What were you even thinking?”
“Never said you were Kentucky but then considering where we are, you can’t exactly claim you’re one of the good guys either,” she said, letting herself slide down the bars so she was lying flat on the cot, no longer looking at him. She didn’t need to see his face though, the tone of his voice making it abundantly clear how much he was judging her, something that got her back up enough to make an all too flippant reply to his question. “That your gal pal Suzie would look really cool with her belly button pierced so I thought I’d do it for her.”
“Who said I’d ever claim to be a good guy,” he said reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a cigarette, rolling it between his fingers. He wouldn’t light up down here, not with the room being underground and everything. Her comment got something close to growl out of him. “You want to screw yourself out of a second chance, that’s your own business.” His voice was terse, through gritted teeth.
Meg couldn’t help but laugh a little at that, the small amount of hope that had dared blossom in her chest after talking to Mojo having been thoroughly stamped out since. “Like they were ever gonna let me out,” she said, reaching up with her good hand to let her fingers curl around one of the bars. “I ain’t under no illusion ‘bout what I am and now your friend knows it too, bitch shoulda walked away when I told her to.”
“Sometimes I wonder what the hell goes on in her head,” he said shaking his head slightly. He rolled the cigarette then shook his head. “Why wouldn’t they let you out? I’m still deciding if they really would let anyone out, but here is better than prison that much is for sure. Not sure why the fuck you’d want to give that up.”
“Fuck if I know, all I can tell you is that girl was looking for a fight.” Because if anyone could tell that, she could, especially now she had the benefit of a clear, albeit achy head, and hindsight working for her. “And prison is what it is, I don’t care how much they try pretty it up, it’s still the same shit they want us to swallow. Least in prison, you know where the goal posts are.”
That made Reece make a face tucking the cigarette behind his ear. Why would Susanna be looking for a fight? That was a curious thing. She was an interesting woman, but that didn’t quite seem like her. Or the side of her he saw. He was getting the feeling that he didn’t see the real part of her. “Might not know what the hell we’re doing here, but I like the idea that I can sleep in my own room, eat real food, and get laid every now and then. I’m not a hard man to please.”
“Well I’m glad you’re havin’ such a sweet time of it here,” Meg replied, the sarcasm in her words no less potent for the quiet way she spoke. “Ain’t exactly been a hay ride for me though and no amount of real food or my own room is gonna fix that.”
“So you just wail on someone and make it so that even though she was itching for a fight, you’re here and she’s next door with the doc.” Reece shook his head. “I’m hardly smart, but that sounds plenty stupid.”
“Yeah, well maybe I am stupid,” she said, letting her arm drop back down to lay over her face. “I sure as fuck don’t care ‘bout bein’ in here.”
“More like probably you are,” Reece said shaking his head. “Why don’t you care?”
Meg pulled a face, not caring that it was obscured by her arm and therefore a wasted effort on her part. "You sound like a shrink," she replied, distaste clear in her voice. "What the hell does it matter to you if I care or not?"
“I am no shrink,” Reece countered, his voice full of the same distaste. “And I don’t give to two shits, but I figured I might as well ask seeing as we’ve got nothing else going on.”
“If you wanna start playin’ twenty questions, you coulda least pick somethin’ interesting to ask about,” she countered, mollified a little by the fact he seemed to share her opinion about psychiatrists.
“What’s more interesting than you having a death wish or wanting out of this fancy but weird gift we’ve been given?” he asked leaning his head back against the wall and staring at the ceiling. He didn’t want to be here. Someone else needed to show up and let him leave. Or tell him she’d survive if he left.
“I don’t have a death wish, if I wanted to be dead I wouldn’t still be here would I?” Never mind the fact that she had three failed attempts at checking out prematurely to her name, that she had been on suicide watch at Tutweiler up until the day she left and for all she knew still might be, after all there was no telling what the people behind the cameras were watching for. “And I didn’t say I wanted out neither, just that I don’t care.”
It must’ve seemed like Reece summoned Cal, given how neatly timed his arrival was. Stepping in with his medical kit bag in hand, Cal didn’t quite have his usual grin of warmth in place. There was just too much going on today to worry about, from his talk with Susanna earlier to Wu’s open request for patrol volunteers. It was one more step towards what he worried over, though this situation? This wasn’t a step in a better direction.
“Reece,” he greeted with a nod, “Everything goin’ okay down here? Thought I’d stop in and take a look before whatever ends up happenin’ with the jury.” And as worrying as that was, Cal was also fascinated on some detached, clinical level. Inmates forming a justice system and deciding punishments... it was going to get bad.
“She’s still here,” Reece said. “Though she doesn’t seem to think she has a death wish, though I think she’s wrong. Just a matter of time at this point.” Reece sounded as tired and annoyed as he was. Apparently he was the only one bothering and he just wanted to sleep.
“Can’t say a fistfight shows much of a death wish,” Cal agreed wryly, setting his bag down and popping it open. “Or a stabbing, either. Shows a lack of impulse control and a skewing in moral relativism, sure, but that’s a different thing...” That got a smile from Cal as he popped a couple of pills from a bottle, offering them to Reece with a bottle of water. “Ibuprofen, I figure you gotta have some pains and such after your night.”
Meg didn't move from her position on the cot when Cal came in, instead just opted for lifting her arm off her face and tilting her head back until the doctor came into view which, given how tall he was, wasn't actually that far. Rolling her eyes a little at being spoken about like she wasn't there, she couldn't help but smirk a little at Cal's assessment. "Jee Doc, it's like you've known me my whole life," she quipped, poking her hand out between the bars. "You got any painkillers for me to go with that astoundin' insight?"
Reece took the pills with a smirk and a nod, mentally thinking this man was a lifesaver and not just in the literal sense. "Alright so she doesn't have a death wish, but I gotta say she's lucky I showed up and helped out. Otherwise she'd look even worse than now." He moved out of the way of Cal, letting him do his thing and going back to the far from comfortable chair he'd spent the night in.
“Told you before, Meg,” Cal replied with a little nod to Reece as he stepped over, “If I don’t get to call you ‘miss’ then you don’t get to call me ‘doc’. It’s Cal, and that does me just fine.” Still, he shook free a few pills from the bottle as he moved over, offering another water between the bars before clicking a pen to readiness. “Now, you end up fallin’ asleep at all since the fight?” he asked first, “And any new pains you want to share? Anything strange with your senses? Weird smells, hangers-on in your vision, echoes... anything like that?”
Although she scoffed a little at Reece’s comment, Meg didn’t actually reply, instead sitting back up on the cot so she could take the pills. That done, along with chugging a good third of the water she’d been given, she actually swung round a little so she was sideways on to the doctor, Cal having earned enough of her respect to warrant voluntary eye contact during a conversation. “Aside from passing out in the courtyard, I reckon no more than I woulda done normally,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Not that it got me very far, Kentucky kept waking me up so.” She gave a small shrug. “Head still hurts but not as bad as it did right after, wrist is aching like a bitch but neither of them are that surprisin’ really. Everything else seems pretty normal but I ain’t tried walking about much.”
“I have a name,” Reece pointed out, but that was it, going back to just watching Cal do his job and notice the way Meg seemed to respect him far more than she did Reece. Made sense, but at the same time, it was a painful reminder of his place in life. Something that wouldn’t have bothered him too much if he’d gotten real sleep the night before.
With a little grin at Reece’s protest, Cal kept his eyes on Meg all through her explanation of her condition, nodding and leaving his pen still on the paper. “Doesn’t sound like you got concussed, luckily,” he assuaged after she finished. “And I won’t make you go through the balance test since we’ve got us an audience, but c’mere so I can check your pupils.” It was a formality more than anything, and something to keep them casual with each other, to hopefully keep Meg talking and get her side of the story without directly asking for it. With this girl? Asking and accusing tended to overlap, it seemed.
“Good to know,” Meg replied, shuffling around so she was facing Cal and leaning forward, chin propped up by her good arm. “‘s happened to me before, not exactly in a hurry to repeat the experience.” There was also a perverse kind of smugness that came with knowing that Susanna hadn’t inflicted nearly as much damage on her as she’d given out.
Squinting through his glasses as he studied Meg’s eyes, Cal was quick and diligent, bringing up a little exam light to shine in each eye in turn. Dilation seemed proper and response time was good, and he doubted there’d be any long-term risk from her injuries. “Yeah, I’ve had a couple myself,” he shared as he examined Meg, “I know how much it can throw the world off-tilt. Must’ve been somethin’ bad that started all this off with Susanna for you to risk it.” Which was simultaneously leading and sympathizing on Cal’s part, a gentle push for Meg to give her version of events that he prefaced with the notion that he understood.
Blinking in the wake of the small light to try and clear her vision, Meg shook her head at Cal’s comment. “I weren’t the one looking to start somethin’,” she said, voice mostly free of the defiance that had coloured it when she’d spoken to Reece and Aaron about it, instead replaced with a tired sounding acceptance of the facts.
“Lemme see your wrist, please,” Cal requested with some slight gentility, holding a hand out palm-up on his side of the bar, “And while I check the strain you put on it, maybe tell me what went down? Particulars if you can recall ‘em, I’d say a short-term memory test’ll let me put concussion fears to bed entirely...” And give him a reason to ask for details. It was strange for him, though; he knew Meg’s history well indeed, at least what was published, but from what he’d seen of her here? He just felt bad for her, like maybe it wasn’t her fault entirely.
As asked, Meg slipped her hand between the bars though it was accompanied by an unimpressed face at Cal’s paper thin justification for her to tell him what had gone down with Susanna. “You know, you wanna find out the gossip you can just ask for it,” she said, offering him a wry smile. “Don’t start feedin’ me bullshit ‘cause you think it’ll get ya further ‘cause I tell you this now, it won’t get you jack squat.” That said, she was plenty willing to talk to Cal about it, probably because compared to who she’d spoken to so far, she actually trusted the doctor. “Ain’t a whole lot to tell though, not really. I was mindin’ ma own business, making a bracelet for the new pendant things they gave us, bitch comes in, starts baiting me. I ain’t gonna lie, say I didn’t rise to it ‘cause I did.” She let out a small sigh and looked down at her lap. “I always do.” The quiet reflection didn’t last long though and after a few seconds, she looked back up at the doctor. “Then she brought up Dom and I told her to walk away ‘fore I lost it with her. She didn’t, I lost it. End of story.”
With what Susanna had told Cal, and the deliberate framing she’d used in her version of events? It fit closely enough that he could believe it, even if he wouldn’t have wanted to think Susanna capable of baiting Meg like that. And with all the research he’d done on Meg in the past, there had never been a diagnosis from anyone involved in her case that hinted at a tendency to lie. Violence, sure, and detachment from the idea of consequences, but lying hadn’t been in her wheelhouse. “I wasn’t lookin’ for gossip, Meg,” Cal said eventually, giving a softer smile of his own, “Jus’ your version of what went down. Some folks take that question as a time to rally a defense, an’ all I want’s the run of events from start to end.”
He didn’t want to condemn her for it or even reprimand her, despite Cal’s distaste for violence in all forms; Cal had just been after the truth, and he felt like he’d gotten more of it from Meg than he had from Susanna... “I’m sorry she did that, too,” he went on as he looked away from Meg to her wrist, “I know it’s been hard for you without Dominic, even if I can’t know just how hard...” He was sympathetic, clearly, as Cal examined her wrist and gave a few little turns to check the range of movement.
“An’ I know it’s not much for good news, but I think you’re gonna be okay here. Wrist’s swollen, I’ll leave somethin’ to ease the pain and reduce the swelling, but a few days of downtime oughta do wonders. Right now I’d say you’re due some proper sleep, and I’ll make sure whoever relieves Reece has some food sent down for later.” Which was almost him acting like an authority in the house, Cal realized, but if he was going to spend his days tending to the others like this? Maybe it was owed, maybe he deserved that authority, however minor it was.
As it had on their first meeting, the relaxed but honest way in which Cal spoke to her teamed with the surety of his actions as he gently manipulated her wrist put Meg at ease, his genuine sympathy about Dom only helping matters. “‘s good to know I got somebody battin’ for my team,” she said, offering the doctor the first real smile she’d mustered in what felt like days. “Even if it ain’t a winnin’ one.”
Cal smiled at that, a flash of teeth in a lazy grin as he shook his head at Meg. “Girl, you forget where we are? Ain’t no winnin’ teams in here period, doesn’t matter if you got bars in front of you or not,” he joked, trying to keep them on the same level in her mind. “Now when they start lettin’ us out, might be a different story. But ‘til then? I always got your back if you need it,” Cal stressed, giving a miniscule squeeze to Meg’s hand before he let go. If someone could somehow look past the violence, the murders, the proclivity for absolute chaos? That was where the charm in the girl showed itself, as Meg’s smile plainly displayed.
Meg’s smiled widened a touch and she shook her head a little in amusement. “‘s lines like that got me convinced you’re probably the smartest guy in here Cal,” she said, heartened by the way he’d squeezed her hand as much as by what he’d said, especially given the lack of enjoyable physical contact she’d had since last seeing Kyle. “How the hell you wound up babysittin’ us lot I don’t know but I’m sure glad you’re here.”
“Process of elimination, plain an’ simple,” Cal quipped as he stepped back from the detention space. “I got the qualifications for it and a lack of violent priors, plus I’m bettin’ someone got a psych profile of me and just knew I’d dive in headfirst ‘fore I ever checked how deep this went.” If he were one of the people in charge, it was absolutely what he would’ve done in those first days. And it killed him to think of that as he dug out the medication he had promised Meg from his kit, setting a little bottle of assorted pills next to Reece.
“Four hours from now you have whoever’s down here dole out two of the round ones an’ one oval, same thing tomorrow,” he explained patiently, figuring Reece wasn’t long for this place. “They give you any sass, you tell ‘em they can come knock on my door for confirmation, and if there’s anything else you need Meg? Do the same, get someone to send me word.” Someone had to take care of her, after all; who knew what was going to happen when the jury got assembled?
“You got it Doc,” Reece said with a nod, going over the instructions in his head again to be sure his tired self got it right. He’d listened to the whole thing, staying out of the way, curious about all of it, but not voicing his opinions. He didn’t need to voice them to Meg. No, he was starting to think they needed to be voice to Susanna. He was going to have to find time to get her alone and ask her just what the hell was going on in that head of hers.
Meg didn’t reply, instead offering the doctor a crooked smile and a lazy salute before letting herself fall backwards onto the bunk, planning to take full advantage of Cal’s suggestion and get some uninterrupted and long overdue shut eye.