Untangling
Characters: Mojo and Reece Setting: Rece's room, evening
Reece finally got away from the crazy girl, grateful for the painkillers that Cal had given him as the lack of sleep was starting to bring on a headache. He owed someone else a visit, but considering he was too tired to completely function, he let his feet take him farther away from the clinic he guessed Susanna was still in and into the elevator, back towards his room.
He was never much of a speedy person, but his steps down the hallway towards his room were even slower than usual, heavier than usual. There was still blood on his clothes, not as much as before, but it was still there, smattered across the undershirt he was still wearing. He’d lost a shirt to helping Susanna. Again. He’d gone through the exact same thing he’d gone through before being arrested. All at once he felt it, warm blood soaking fabric, foaming in a way that only blood can foam, over his fingers, warm and wet, then sticky and tacky as it started to dry and his friend started to die.
The dark cloud that usually loomed was hanging lower, clouding his features as he trod along.
Mojo was never one to labor under that kind of cloud, and right now seemed no different as she walked away from the activity room with a bounce in her step. Her arms were full with plunder once again, this time a few small jars of paint and a pack of fresh brushes she’d stuffed in her pocket. Pressed to her side and held in place with an arm was a thin book she’d grabbed earlier from the library, and between that and the paints? It seemed like Mojo had a good setup for entertaining herself through another day.
Then? She saw Reece. And whatever she might’ve said first got sidetracked by the splash of color she saw on his undershirt, the undeniable color of blood. The fuck? Mojo thought, refusing to flail even if the detail spiked some anxiety in her. What was happening in here today? What was wrong now? “Dude, Fancy,” she called as they got closer to each other, “You working on a remake of ‘Die Hard’ or something?”
He made a face as she called out to him, the nickname not registering at first. The comment was a good one though, enough to amuse him even if it didn’t really show more than a half wave. “Kind of wish I was,” he said, the usual humor out of his tone. “What are you up to? Find more things that need decorating?”
“My room, my chess set, all that fun shit,” Mojo confirmed with a nod. “I already rocked some cleaning today, figured it was time for some Me Time, but, um...” she trailed, awkwardly waggling the fingers of one hand at Reece. “That’s kinda irrelevant. What’s going on here, Reece? With the blood and the looking like crap and all?” she asked, letting the vague amusement that Mojo perpetually wore slip away to show faint lines of worry. “Who got hurt?” Mojo asked in a quieter voice.
“Looking like crap? Thanks,” Reece said, hearing the words come out harsher than he ever was with her. Rubbing at his face a little he shook his head. “I haven’t slept. Susanna got hurt. And then I got to spend the night playing warden or whatever they’re going to call us to her attacker who took a blow to the head.”
There had definitely been some jealousy with Mojo before, when she’d spotted Reece leaving Susanna’s room the other day. She’d refused to admit it of course, how could she be jealous if she wasn’t open to anything physical herself? But it had been there. Now, though, it was hard to let any of that linger or feel like she could seize some advantage with Reece. How could she be spiteful knowing that Susanna had gotten hurt? “Who the hell attacked her?” she asked in surprise, “I... you heading to your room? C’mon, I’ll walk with you.”
Reece rolled his eyes and stared towards his room. “One of the blonde pixies. The trailer trash one,” he explained, fingers snagging on Mojo’s arm to pull her with him. “You can decorate my room if you want,” he suggested, too tired to think the offer through. It just seemed like a good idea.”
“Meg?” she blurted, digging in a heel as Reece started to pull. She wouldn’t have used those terms to describe the younger woman, but Mojo knew they fit damned well. But she needed to knowif it was her. “She’s in lockup? Is she hurt or anything?”
He stopped and looked at her, frowning for a moment before nodding. “That would be the one,” he said. “And yeah, giant bang to the head,” he said pointing to his own head. “And her face has looked better. But she also stabbed Susanna with a knitting needle.” He was too tired to filter it and how he felt about things, which was completely confused and not sure where he sat on things, was showing in his features.
That didn’t sit well with Mojo, screwing her expression up with worry and confusion to match Reece’s own. “The fuck?” she muttered, “I... the fuck?” It was only a partial story, sure, but if Meg was in a cell that meant she was taking the blame for this, and she hadn’t struck Mojo as the sort to just go off and stab someone else. “Do you know why she did it or anything? Can I see her at some point?”
She was clueless about how that side of the facility was meant to work, but Mojo realized that she knew two of the wardens. That had to count for something with one of them, and hopefully it’d be Reece. “Not, like, now... you look like you need a break,” she clarified before urging him towards his room once more.
“Yes. Exactly that,” he said waving towards her and rubbing at the space between his eyes before she started him towards his room. “Not really? Because Susanna’s a bitch was the explanation I got. When I found them they were well into a cat fight and if I hadn’t pulled Susanna off her, Meg’s head might more like bashed in.” He looked at Mojo, frowning for a moment. “You want to see her? I don’t see why not, but she’s sort of...a giant pain in the ass. And making anyone south of the Mason Dixon line look like shit.”
“She’s also my friend,” Mojo pointed out smartly, biting back the insult that should’ve gone with those words. Reece didn’t need it right now. Maybe after he got some rest she’d give him the grief she was repressing... “You ever think that maybe it’s a valid explanation? I mean, it’s not like stabbing someone is a fair reaction or anything, but Susanna is kinda a bitch,” she pointed out quietly, glancing sidelong at Reece as they walked. “You even said it yourself; if you hadn’t pulled her off of Meg...” Mojo trailed, feeling a little sick at the idea that either of the women could’ve been seriously hurt.
“She isn’t very friendly,” Reece said shaking his head since she’d been pretty damn bitchy to him considering he’d saved her life. Twice if keeping her from dying in her sleep counted for something. “She stabbed her after I’d pulled Susanna off her and away. While I had a handle on Susanna.” Reece ran his hand over his head, feeling length his hair had grown in just the few short days. “Though I never said Susanna wasn’t a bitch.” Which was what really had him torn. That woman confused the hell out of him, not sure what to make of her from time to time and now he was feeling the same way about Meg.
There was a tiny smile at his last words, just a little quirk in Mojo’s lips that might’ve been missed entirely as they walked. “That’s some dirty pool on Meg’s part, no argument here. Sounds like it’s fucked up on both sides, and it makes me wonder how it even started.” She could guess, but ultimately it’d only be a guess, and one based on Mojo’s sole dealing with Susanna. Still, even then the other woman had managed to belittle Mojo, and she had a hunch that Meg just reacted differently to shit-talking than her. “Whatever, I guess... I’ll go see Meg when I can, but right now? Get your relaxation on, catch a shower, I’ll paint some literary quotes on your walls,” Mojo urged as they neared Reece’s door.
“Fuck if I know. Thank god that’s not my issue to figure out,” Reece said standing in front of his door for a moment, trying to remember where is key was before he pulled it out of his pocket and let himself into his room. “Go down there whenever you want. Anyone else gives you shit, tell them I said it was okay. Just don’t bust her out before the trial or whatever the hell the jury thing is.” He stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out if he wanted her painting on his walls, but the idea of her sticking around was definitely appealing. He waved her in the room, then pulled at his shirt, looking at the blood on it before tossing it towards a borrowed basket from the laundry room. “Make yourself at home.”
That was always a risky offer to make to Mojo, though luckily for Reece, their topics so far were somber enough that she didn’t go full-tilt with it. Still, she let her eyes linger on Reece for a moment as she walked in, then away from him to regard his walls and ceiling intently. “Yeah, because I’m some master crook who’ll organize a tiny jailbreak inside a bigger, fancier jail,” she joked with a glance at Reece, amusement flashing in her eyes for a moment. “Just gonna smuggle some cleaning products and whip up a little bomb to blast her cell open. Or? I’m gonna figure out where to paint some scandalous Joyce quotes so you get a halfie every time you look at them... maybe right over your bed?”
Reece was only half listening to her, undoing his jeans until she got to the last part and he stopped, halfway out of his jeans looking over at her. “Is that really your plan?” he asked watching her for a moment more then stepping the rest of the way out of his jeans and watching her in just his boxers. “Do whatever you want. You know I’ll only be thinking about you.” He headed into the bathroom to start the water, not bothering with closing the door. Worst case? She looked. She wouldn’t be disappointed. Or no one had before.
“You say that...” Mojo trailed as Reece stepped into the bathroom, her tone suggesting she doubted him, but she was smiling all the same. There was never anything wrong with a little flesh on display. Maybe with the appetites that seeing it stirred up in her, but the flesh itself? Definitely not. “Just so you know,” she called after him, dropping all of the jars of paint onto Reece’s bed before sauntering towards the bathroom door, “If I lean in there and catch an eyeful? It totally doesn’t count for the ‘whip it out’ occassion you owe me. I’m saving that one.” For a public moment, just to call Reece’s bluff.
“I say that because it’s true. Oh, well you and Megan Fox. That woman...whew.” He grinned over his shoulder, not really worried about her catching anything with his boxers on the floor once she was in the doorway. “I’m pretty sure it’s the exact same thing. But if you keep trying to get me naked I’m going to start getting the wrong impression.”
“It’s different,” Mojo clarified, “Because this way I can try to make you flop some dong during a facility meeting, or at a party or dinner or something. Which is why the promise matters.” The grin was richly evident in her voice as she leaned on the doorframe, glancing at Reece’s well-muscled back fleetingly before she cracked the slim book that had been tucked under one arm. “And really? Start getting the wrong impression? Are you saying that me getting naked the second time I saw you didn’t do that?” she asked with a little laugh, head shaking at herself. Tough as it had been, Mojo had been good since that night in the pool, and she honestly felt proud for it.
“You are more than good to look at, but I’m not sure you’re good enough looking for me to drop my shorts somewhere where it’s not just you seeing it.” He shook his head and got into the shower, not caring if he flashed her at all. “Alright so I had the wrong impression from the jump,” he said over the water. “But since you haven’t gotten naked since, I’m starting to think you don’t actually like me.”
Yeah, she looked when he climbed in, and there was a flicker of something in Mojo’s eyes as she did. Amusement, attraction, something else entirely, there was no way of knowing... she certainly wasn’t saying when Reece’s last words hit her ears. “Oh bullshit,” she accused sharply, “Are you seriously trying to say that I need to flash my growler to prove that we’re cool with each other, Conner? Really?”
He shook his head even though she couldn’t see it, sticking his face under the water for a moment before pulling back. “I s’pose not, but you know I’m in for it. “ He knew she had reasons not to, it made sense, but it didn’t stop him from wanting it. Reaching for the soap he worked it into a lather and started washing himself.
“Oh I know,” Mojo assured him, watching the outline of Reece beyond his shower curtain. It was screamingly obvious every time she saw him, in his eyes and voice and body language, in the ways he found reasons to touch her. It was something Mojo was very good at spotting. “But it puts me in a weird spot when I feel like that’s the motivator for you even being around, like we’re not friends, but I’m just someone you’re waiting to tap,” she confessed, “And I know it’s shitty to hit you with this right now. You’re tired, you’re trying to clean up, you don’t need to hear me calling bullshit.”
Reece thought about it, rinsing himself off while he did so. He didn’t speak again until he finished, turning off the water and pushing the curtain open to grab a towel. “Probably the best time to ask as I’m not bothering with worrying about what you’ll think.” He dried himself off then wrapped the towel around his waist. “I was, and in a way, probably still am, but I do like being around you, being your friend.” He smirked a little then let his face fade to serious as he got closer to her. “But I know why and I’m not that big of a dick.”
“So I saw,” Mojo teased, nose crinkling up as she grinned at Reece for a moment. “Seriously, though? Don’t hold your breath waiting for me, I... I actually kinda like this whole no screwing thing. Which is crazy? But it’s like the extra energy’s got me hyper-aware, all cylinders firing upstairs.” And it was odd to even admit, but liberating too. “I mean, sometimes it sucks, yeah, but I just like not having that extra game to play with people, y’know? The ‘when are we gonna slap bits’ game?,” Mojo asked rhetorically, her voice getting quieter as Reece got closer. “Besides, it’s not like you don’t have anyone to play it with without me.”
He made a face at her comment, not liking that at all. “I’m not holding my breath,” because really, he supposed he wasn’t. It was the ideal situation, but he wasn’t really pining over it. “Doesn’t always have to be a game,” he told her, leaning against the wall near her, so he was close. It didn’t have to. Sure it could be, but it didn’t have to be. Shaking his head a little he ran his hand through his hair again. “More proof that I have shit taste in women. And I already told you, it’s not a thing.”
She leaned right in to the side, bracing a shoulder against Reece’s bare, still-damp skin and nodding. “I know it doesn’t have to be a game, but thinking that it might not be with someone here? That spooks me just as much as the shit I’ve got to come to terms with,” Mojo admitted. “Like, if it’s casual with someone in here, I can handle that normally. Lately, not so much, but normally? Sure. But if it’s more, I... shit, Conner, you already know I’ve never been like, serious about someone. And for me, that’s when it’d stop being a game. And I don’t know what to do there.”
Mojo had to sigh softly, head shaking as she looked up at Reece. “You already told me, but I didn’t buy it then and I don’t now,” she pointed out wryly as she leaned against him. “You’ve hooked up twice, spent a third night just drinking and talking, if there was nothing there that list would be a lot shorter. And three instances is already pretty short. Why’re you so dead-set on denying it? Because of me?”
“Why’s it so different here than out of here? It’s going to be scary shit if it gets serious with anyone, in here or not. I know. I’ve been in probably two serious relationships in my life and no one else would call them serious but me.” He was going to move away but that she was touching him, so close, that was distracting and in a way really comforting after the night he had.
“Why don’t you buy it now? Beyond those three moments, you can add a fourth where I hung up that bar thing ballerina’s use, and that’s it. I’m dead set on denying it because I know it’s nothing more than that. She said that I think.” He was quiet for a moment, like he was trying to gather his thoughts but his sleep deprived mind was moving slower than he would have liked. “Yes you,” he finally admitted, voice lower. “Because this is far more distracting and sticks with me a lot longer than anything else.” Which was a new feeling for him, something as almost mundane as her being close to him, sticking to his bones and invading his thoughts. “And the fact that she’s fucking Ryan on the far more regular and I hate that guy. And the part where I don’t know what to do with her exactly. She just seems...like she’s hiding something all the time.” And while he wasn’t much for puzzles, that one kept winding up in his face and it confused the hell out of him.
“Reece,” Mojo said quietly, chewing her lip for a moment as she withdrew from the shoulder-lean, “Me distracting you doesn’t mean I deserve your full attention. It means I’m distracting, I know I am. And... and it’s been like ten days, you know that’s not enough time to get hooked like you say you are.” It was flattering, sure, and maddeningly tempting to think that if she wanted to? Mojo could pull that towel off of him and run her fingers over Reece’s scalp like he had, then over every other inch of bare skin. BUt like she’d said, it was freaky too, and that was enough to hold back.
“And it’s different because if I meet someone in here that I decide I give a damn about, then I have to wonder what happens when we get out. Where they end up. If I can find them. Or if it goes bad in here... if they can find me,” she explained at length, head shaking slightly. “I’m glad I know you, I trust you, I know I can find you if I’m in a pinch or just not feeling safe... but that’s where I’m drawing the line. And not just with you, either; there’s a velvet rope up in front of Club Mojo, no one’s getting in.”
"I wasn't saying it was serious," Reece said shaking his head. "And I'm not hooked like that. I just..like being here." He gestured to her being close to him. "Haven't really had this in five years or so. Forgot what it felt like."
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, nodding slowly. "I haven't done much thinking of leaving. Hell, here is much better than anything I had out there since I left home. But even if it isn't like that...you're bound to make friends you don't want to lose right? Though, my guess is you'd get out and leave me behind." He dared to touch her, brushing his hand over her hair, then wrapping his arm around her in a half hug. "I can't say I won't stand outside the rope waiting, but I get it. Just still a guy."
She didn’t fight him on it, going with the light hug and lingering in it fleetingly. Detached and uninformed in her social cues or not, Mojo could tell when someone was feeling needy or uncertain. And maybe Reece was just tired, or maybe it was the other two; she didn’t know, she could just give him this moment. “You’re talking about it like summer camp,” she teased quietly, “Seriously? If I get out of here, I’m gonna start knocking on doors or making calls or whatever I have to do to find out what happens to everyone else in here. I don’t give a shit if they’re a quintuple-murderer or a serial jaywalker; we all got the offer, we all get out.” She’d told Evan as much too, and Mojo meant it adamantly. The people running this place would just have to deal with their own actions.
“What’s out there?” he said shrugging, but staying close to her for as long as she’d let it. “I’m just not sure I’m going anywhere. I might. I might just stay here, teach all the new fish the ropes when they show up.” He wasn’t sure he was cut out for the real world. He was trying to be better, but he had a track record of finding trouble even when he didn’t mean to. Being a box wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“What’s out there?” Mojo echoed, eyebrows raising as she fixed an incredulous look on Reece, “Everything, Conner. There’s so much past this place, past fucking Kentucky... you literally can’t even imagine it.” She withdrew a bit, backstepping through the bathroom door as if she expected Reece to just follow after. “Why would you stay here? To stay out of trouble? I mean... do you really want to agree to being locked up somewhere just because it’s comfy?”
He let her pull away, watching her for a moment before following after. “Okay, so there’s everything, but I have a dark cloud of bad luck chasing after me,” he said shaking his head and digging into a drawer for a pair of boxers. “It’s better being stuck here than getting in trouble again and wind up locked up back where I started. Again..” It wasn’t the best methodology, but Reece was being honest. He hadn’t done much thinking into the getting out of here part, because he wasn’t sure he was getting out.
She couldn’t help a pronounced sigh at Reece’s logic, even if it wasn’t unexpected to hear. Mojo had heard it before in the outside world, from friends she’d had in Denver who’d been there their whole lives. “You’d rather miss a million good things just because you can avoid one bad one,” she repeated doubtfully. “That’s not living, Reece, and I think it’s not what anyone really wants for themselves either. It’s just the easiest way to give up responsibility for yourself and decide that prison’s an inevitability when it’s not. You could have something better outside of here, and you won’t even daydream about what...”
Reece pulled on the boxer shorts and made a face at her. “You remember why I’m here right? Because they decided I was responsible for something I didn’t really do?” He let out a sigh then dropped to sit on the bed, running his hands over his hair again. “I guess it isn’t living, but I did a lot of my own brand of living and it didn’t do me much in the way of good,” he told her, glancing up at her as he finished it. “Plus...they say we’re starting over. Who am I if I start over?” It wasn’t something he’d put into words yet, but with how tired he was, the itch at the back of his mind was coming foward.
“Whoever the fuck you want to be!” Mojo blurted at him in exasperation, laughing humorlessly at the fact that this was even an argument. She couldn’t make the jump to a different mentality, couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t already be embracing a perspective like hers. “Jesus, Reece, do you know how many people would shit themselves over this kind of chance? Not even convicts, just... people! If we get out of here we can be anyone we want, go anywhere we want! Maybe I’ll still be broke and uneducated, but everything else? Is my choice,” she stressed zealously, stabbing a finger into her own chest. “A fresh start doesn’t take away the things that make you who you are, it just means that the mistakes you made getting there don’t count against you. Does anything sound better in the world than that?”
“Mojo, it’s not a fresh start. It’s a new life,” he said shaking his head. “And maybe it’s lame, but Reece Conner with a too damn big family, from Kentucky...that wasn’t all bad if you ignored the frequent brushes with the law. So yeah, there’s a few things better than that.” He had a family that it sounded like he might not see again, or he might not be part of. Sure, they were pissed that he’d gone completely bad apple, but they hadn’t written him off completely.
And that was the glaring weakness of Mojo’s inability to really empathize; she hadn’t even considered the idea that Reece had family. It was a damned good reason to want his life, not the blank slate they were being offered, but it was a reason Mojo would never think of. “I... sorry,” she said as the realization hit her, “I didn’t even think about your family, but could they even visit you here or anything? Do they know you’re here at all?”
He just made a face, not taking the apology well. “I haven’t seen anything about it. Which is fine, they only came by a few times a year.” Reece’s shoulders rose in what might have been a shrug, but there wasn’t anything behind it. “I have no idea. I try not to think about it. There’s nothing I can do about it right?”
“I don’t know,” Mojo admitted, shrugging weakly as Reece went about his dressing. “I just feel like deciding that this place is enough is a cop-out. I guess that if you hold a light to it, there’s a lot of questions like that. People here have families, they have stuff they couldn’t just abandon for a fresh start. I did that all the time...” Once more wouldn’t be so bad. “This isn’t what you need to be dwelling on. Seriously, I’m sorry.” Yeah, she was feeling like a bitch now.
“I feel like getting my hopes up for more than this place is waiting to get let down,” Reece said, finding an undershirt and pulling it on before looking back at her. “Not everyone moves with the wind Mojo.” It didn’t sound like he thought it was a bad thing. Really, he kind of admired it. He’d talked about getting out plenty of times and he’d never really wandered that far from home. “Don’t apologize. You couldn’t have known.”
She had another short laugh for that, moving to gather up her paints again. “Story of my life,” she said, not elaborating on the sentiment. The walls and ceiling were still bare, but Mojo didn’t much feel like flipping through her book to find passages worth painting now. “I...” she hesitated, glancing to Reece, then down to her shoes, “I think I should let you get to resting. You’re on for patrol or some shit tonight, yeah?”
Reece wasn’t sure what was going on and it showed on his features. He sort of had the idea that she was sticking around, but now she was talking about rest and such and when she brought up the patrol he swore under his breath. “Yeah I do. And I probably will wind up back at the jail again.” He rubbed at his forehead and looked at her. “We okay?”
A couple of little nods slipped out first, becoming steadier things as Mojo managed to look Reece’s way and conjure up a smile that steadied itself after a moment. “We’re okay,” she answered confidently. “Sometimes I still get thrown by what I think is normal shit for most people? But it seems like you’re willing to stick it out while I deal with it, which, by the way? Good,” Mojo encouraged as she moved closer to the door. “I just need to sort out my brain, not everyone likes to give me time to do that.” And it’d give him time too, time clear of her messy influence.
“I think normal depends on who you are,” Reece said, trying to fight a yawn. He wasn’t bored of her, nor did he want her to go, but just sitting somewhere that wasn’t a metal chair near a jail cell was relaxing enough to bring his exhaustion to the forefront. “Where else am I going to go? Might as well stick it out and it’s not like we’re rushing off somewhere soon,” he added smirking a little. “For the record, just because your brain needs sorting doesn’t mean you’re not welcome here.”
“I know,” Mojo assured him, lingering near the door. “Something seriously fucked up would have to go down before I felt like I couldn’t come by. I just... sometimes I do better not being around temptation, and for me? Most of life is temptation,” she admitted with a grin, “So since you’re not going anywhere, and I have time... if I take some of it and I’m hard to find? I’m just untangling mental knots, not ducking your or something. Shoot me a message and I’ll write right back, probably in a bitchy, cynical way.”
He smirked at her a little and nodded. “Nice knowing I fall under the category of temptation,” he teased lightly. “I will be sure to bother you if you go missing for too long. ‘Course I’d get lonely if I let you go missing for that long.”
Popping the door, Mojo leaned back into it to ease it open as she started to slip through. “I don’t think you ever get that lonely, Conner,” she teased, “But I’ll be around, just so it doesn’t happen...” She grinned Reece’s way as Mojo stepped more and more out of his room, lingering at last with just her head hanging in the doorway. “Stay pretty, Fancy. I’ll see you when I see you.”