Here's Looking At You Kid
Characters: Adam and Grace Setting: Around Block A, pre-dawn
Adam had tried sleep. He really had. But it had been fitful at best and after an hour or so of listening to music and trying he’d given up, sending Wren a note of a song he’d found that she might like and dragging himself to the activity room to play video games until he was supposed to go on patrol. Being signed up for a late night patrol probably wasn’t going to help the whole sleeping matter, but it wasn’t like he could ignore the need for help. He wanted to help. And the bar wouldn’t be open in the morning. He’d nap after. Maybe.
Just before the time he was suppose to start he went to the kitchen, digging around in the fridge until he found a Diet Coke, relieved that someone somewhere knew that they couldn’t be healthy with just water and juice. Sometimes the caffeine and bubbles were needed. Sipping on it, he wandered back towards the picnic bench in the courtyard, pulling out his test kit to check his blood sugar before they started wandering around. He didn’t want there to be trouble, but just in case, it was good not to be massively out of target.
Adam wasn't the only one having sleep issues. Grace had long given up the idea of sleeping before her patrol. She had went many nights without sleep before, so she figured that she would be fine. She first decided to head down to the kitchen and get herself a drink, grabbing a soda before heading out to the courtyard. It seemed like a lovely night, so why not enjoy it?
When she got outside, she spotted Adam sitting out on a picnic bench. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said, more to announce her presence than anything.
Adam had just finished sticking his finger and holding it up to the meter, glancing up at the voice before sticking the still bleeding finger in his mouth. Waving with one hand he sucked away the last of the blood then got up more. “Uh, no. Just making sure this is in check.” He smiled then the meter beeped and he held it up, making a face at the number and tucked it away. “Grace?” he asked, shoving the meter into his back pocket and pulling his insulin pump from another pocket, his eyes drifting from her to it as he gave himself a dose of insulin.
She smiled when he said that she wasn't interrupting anything. Good. That meant that they should likely be able to do their patrol soon. She wasn't sure what they were expected to find, but she knew she'd rather go out and find nothing than have no one going around and more 'incidents' occurring. "Yes, and I take it that you're Adam?" She recognized the diabetic paraphernalia. Her father was starting to deal with similar issues in the last few years.
He pushed the button on the blue insulin pump, waited for it to beep and give the does before tucking it away and holding out a hand to her. It wasn’t something he would have done twelve days ago or so, but rationally he was thinking, ‘it’s a handshake and she looks like someone’s mom’. Of course thinking Grace looked like someone’s mother was weird considering the jail time thing, but he didn’t let himself dwell on it. “I’m Adam.”
Grace actually was someone's mom, but she doubted that many would approve of the after school jobs she had gotten her children. No matter now. With a smile, she reached out and shook his hand. "Pleasure to meet you," she said to him. "So, should we go ahead and get started?" He looked like he was done, but she wasn't totally sure, either.
Adam answered his smile with a half one of his own and nodded. “Might as well.” He grabbed the can of coke off the table and waved for her to lead the way, ladies first and all that. He couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting towards Kyle’s room, just a habit. “You live on this block?” he asked, feeling like he should know that, but not at all sure.
She watched him as he got up and then started to lead the way, walking slowly but steadily back toward the hall. "Yes, I'm Room 19," she told him, eyes flicking to each room's door as they moved. "Are you as well?" One reason that she was looking forward to her job at the store was that she was looking forward to meeting the people in the facility that she hadn't had the chance to speak with yet.
Adam made a noise close to a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m actually two doors down from you, tewnty-one.” He looked bashful when he glanced over at her. “Sorry I didn’t realize that. But yeah I was the guy with all the writing on his door up until a few days ago.” He let his eyes drift away from her, wandering back around the facility, keeping an eye out for whatever it was they were supposed to be keeping an eye out for.
Grace smiled at him when he said that they were neighbors, but she frowned a tad when he said that his was the door that had been graffitied. So, one of the reasons that they were doing the patrols then? Hopefully, they could stop these hoodlums and assholes with this. "I'm sorry that your door got graffitied," she told him. "Were you able to get all of it off?"
“Oddly it wasn’t a big deal. Just someone trying to help,” he said smiling a little even if there was a pang in his stomach at the thought of Wren. He needed to not do that to himself. He’d never known. It was fine right? “I got a new door a few days back. So not really an issue.”
She nodded. "I might be a little more upset if someone had written on my door, whether they were trying to help or not," Grace admitted. "That's just me, obviously." She gave him a slight smile again. "So, what all do you think we should be on the look out for? Anyone making mischief?" She couldn't stand the thought of just walking without talking, so she was mostly making conversation at the moment.
“I was upset,” he said, meeting her smile though his didn’t get to his eyes. “I yelled at her, but...she was the one that got through. Gave me a reason to get better.” He owed Wren so much and realizing that made Adam hurt as much as ever had. He really had screwed things up. Again. Relieved for the change of subject, he smiled again, weak and half faked. “I suppose. Like the person who burned the books?”
She nodded sympathetically when he explained his situation to her a little better. "It's good that you got better," she said to him. "That's part of what this place is about, getting better. Whether we get through it from what the tell us to do here or with the other people doesn't matter." She liked to think that the people getting help here was the important thing. She nodded quickly when he mentioned the book burning. "It's like a person burning their own items in a fit of rage. Those were placed here for all of us to use, and they burned them up. Could have started a fire around the whole compound if it hadn't been raining." Grace personally had a problem with book burning, it seemed.
“Oh I am miles from better,” Adam said shaking his head. “Probably the farthest thing from it, but...I’m trying.” Which was also true. He was talking to what felt like the right people, though he probably needed to give Cal a better shot to try more. Cal did have the credentials after all. He watched her when she spoke, trying to study her. “It was a stupid thing to do that’s for sure,” he said. “But some people are like that. We are in prison.” He looked around. “I guess we’re also looking for anything dangerous. People have gotten hurt lately.”
"First step in getting better is trying," Grace said to him. "So I'm told, anyway." Some would say that she wasn't trying, since she wasn't completely sure that she had done anything wrong. She had been supplying a good that people wanted, after all. Was it really anyone else's business what someone put in their body? She didn't think so? Anyone who worked with her knew the type of person that she was and what they were getting into as well. "We are in a prison," she agreed with a nod. "I had just hoped that everyone would take the idea of being here and being allowed a second chance a little more seriously."
“Seems like that’s right. Or it’s what I keep hearing too.” He listened to her, feeling like he was making progress on his own accord, but sometimes he felt like he was spinning in circles. “Maybe not everyone is capable.” It was a soft thing, an admission of what he was feeling.
She shrugged a bit. "It's what I hear, too. Besides, I figure that the worst thing you can do is not try at all." Even she was putting forth an effort by working in the store and doing what those above her told her to do. "I like to think that everyone is capable of some sort of change. It's a matter of whether or not they are willing. A lot can be done if you're simply willing."
“Sounds like reasonable advice, trying. Though I might need to do better with that.” Since here he was, ignoring Autumn’s advice and not sleeping. He looked at his feet and shook his head. “I’m not sure I agree. There’s a lot.... a lot of people I don’t trust to know any other way. Or to be capable of any other way.”
"I heard something once. At the end of our lives, it's what we try to do that really matters," she said to him. "Intentions count for a lot." She ran her fingers along the wall as they walked. She sighed at what he said. "You may be right. Some people don't want to learn how to be better." It was a sad fact of life.
“Isn’t the other saying something about the path to hell being paved with good intentions?” Adam asked, rubbing at the back of his head. The soda wasn’t helping him wake up, he was starting the feel that itch of exhaustion. It was normal, something he was used to, but it was getting fuzzy. “Or can’t.” He was thinking of the crazy people in his life.
She couldn't help but smile a bit when he said that. "Then I suppose it depends on your own beliefs then," she mused. She didn't think of herself as a terribly upbeat person, but tonight she was sounding like it, wasn't she? Maybe the message of this place was starting to permeate. "Maybe," she said with a bit of a shrug again. "Kind of a dark way to think, though."
“Sounds like people just make shit up so that they feel better about what they do.” Adam hated how cynical that sounded out loud, that wasn’t really like him, but he wasn’t liking the holes in things. “You don’t know the people I knew before I got arrested.”
She almost laughed when he said that it sounded like the shit people made up to feel better about what they did. He had a point, actually. People did make up all sorts of things to make themselves feel better. "That's true. What sort of people were you around?" she asked, curious.
“Crazy people,” Adam concluded. He was really coming to terms with that. That they were crazy people. Jeffrey and his whole damn family had been crazy. His best friend included. There was no real avoiding that at this point.
Grace had to bite back a chuckle when he said that. She happened to like people when they were almost wonderfully blunt like that. "Legitimately crazy people do usually find it harder to change their ways," she agreed with a nod as they continued to walk along. She didn't like dealing with truly mentally ill people. Too unpredictable.
Adam quirked her a smile and nodded. "No you are. It makes sense just wasn't sure what you were going for. Thought you might mean the actual society definitions were funny. Like they weren't clear." He cut his eyes back to the facility around them, thinking of Mazie and having the same debate. What she thought was right and he was worried was more stupid. "Nothing wrong with rambling," he added.
"I think nights are the perfect time for rambling. Something about the dark just makes it easier to talk, I think." Maybe it was being a little tired that helped to relax a person enough to make them talk more. "Glad that I'm making sense, though," Grace said, smiling. She didn't usually ramble on like this, so she felt a little silly for doing it tonight.
"I'm not really used to having someone to talk to so I wouldn't know but I can see that. Flaws less in the light an all." Adam shrugged and looked at her again. Why was she here? She didn't seem the type. But then again neither did he.
In another life, Grace simply would have been a high powered business executive. Her father had been running a drug empire, though, and she had the drive to want to be apart of that. "I'm starting to think that this place makes me talkative, too," Grace admitted. It wasn't as if prison allowed for many times to talk to others.
Adam tucked his hands in his pockets and smirked. "I'm actually a pretty decent listener, if you wanted to talk about something in particular."
"You do seem like a more than decent listener," Grace said. "Give yourself some credit there." She smiled at him. "I will certainly keep that in mind and take you up on it plenty." She had enough thoughts going in her head to feel the need to.
"Probably because I'm a bad talker," Adam said though he knew that was only half of it. He'd gotten used to listening to Jeffrey and as a result was the type to listen through anything. "Name the time and place."
"I don't know. You don't seem so bad at it to me," Grace countered. It seemed that many of the people here had self esteem issues. She wasn't too shocked by that, but it seemed like all the nice ones. "I'll make sure to make an appointment soon."
Adam laughed, but it wasn't a humor filled noise. "Maybe I'm judging myself too much." He somewhat doubted that though. "You should, my calendar fills up quick." There was a smile with the tease, something playful, even if it was only masking how he was feeling.
She could see a bit that he was hiding deeper pain. She hoped that he had or was developing someone to talk to. "Do you have a secretary that I can call?" Grace asked, keeping up the playfulness.
Adam's smile got a bit bigger. "I did, but she's completely unreliable. Had to let her go." It was fun at least, teasing like this.
"Guess I'll just have to call you personally then, won't I?" Grace asked. She hadn't figured that a patrol of a prison ground would turn out fun, but it was! Go figure.
"Sadly yes. I answer messages too. And for an added fee, might even play a devil's advocate." Yes, this was definitely easier than dwelling. So Adam was latching to it, playing along.
Sometimes it was easier to just play around than think about anything. "Usually I'm the one playing devil's advocate to people," Grace admitted with a laugh.
"Well then you're definitely in need of my services," Adam concluded. "I take food as a fee. Always."
"Well, I can cook, so those are payments that I can make." Grace wasn't as good as Carmel, but she had the belief that if you couldn't cook, what sort of wife (or ex-wife, in her case) were you?
"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," Adam said, trying out his best Bogart, which really wasn't that great. It was a still a wonder he remembered the lines to all the old movies, but that was what happened when growing up with a grandparent.