OVER AND OUT

Day Four Hundred and Ninety-Four...continued.

I'm a complete fucking idiot.

Giving a damn about anyone else gets you nowhere. Except further in the shit. Should have learnt that lesson the last time.

Should have damn well known better than to get involved. Maybe it's me who's the dumb one in our family after all.

My hands are shaking, I can feel the panic rising in me as the guards start looking at the crowd. Hell, it must be obvious that it was me. For all the shit I've ever been caught up in, I ain't never seen a guy die before, let alone killed anyone. Yet here I am covered in blood and shaking like a little girl, wouldn't surprise me if I start bawling in a minute.

I almost wish the guards would just get on with it, 'cause while I'm standing here waiting for them to figure out what's happened I just can't stop staring at Walt and wondering why he had to be such a damn fool as well, and I know everything's screwed up for sure.

Nothing's been changed by me getting involved, Walt's still on the floor, that guy's there next to him, he's still... dead, the only thing different is that I ain't going nowhere any time soon. Except back to solitary. Won't get that parole, won't even be getting out of here in three years no more. Probably going to be stuck here for more years than I care to think about.

More and more guards are streaming in, and although it feels like hours, it's probably only a matter of seconds 'til they spot me in the crowd, drag me out, cuff me. Then the next second they also grab Bobby too, take the both of us away to be dealt with.

xxxxxx

We've been in this room for maybe an hour, been knocked around a bit by the guards, only now their chief is here with the warden, going to speak to us himself apparently. I'm sitting here, saying nothing, trying to hold it together. At least when they put me in solitary there won't be no one there to see me be such a fucking mess. In the meantime, I'll do like Bobby told me when we were in the corridor being dragged here - keep my mouth shut and follow his lead.

The chief guard is standing right in front of me, glaring, as the warden starts his speech. "You know what, you sure as hell have caused me more grief than needed on a Monday afternoon. Two bodies isn't exactly a good start to the week, even for this damn place. You like it here a little too much Shepard? I hear you two been involved in shit together before. What is it this time, don't want your parole, and don't want to leave your buddy in here all alone?"

I don't know what I'm supposed to say, just want to tell the the smug fucker exactly what I think about him, but even I got just about enough sense left to know that won't help me none. So I don't say anything, just sit back in my chair, stare at the floor.

"Wasn't him. Was me."

Stunned, my head snaps round to stare at Bobby.

"Really? Because the guards seem to think it was him, say you were just brawling."

Bobby laughs and right now he's a world away from the nervous looking guy I met on my first day here.

"Hell, I'm the one with form aren't I? He's just some dumb Tulsa street punk who ain't got the first clue what's going on in this place, wouldn't have a clue how to kill a guy."

"Yeah? So why don't you tell me how it did happen then, smart guy?"

Bobby's got near enough as much blood on him as I have, from the fight and from checking Walt over. And he does a real good line in selling them a story, just carries on talking every time I try to say something to set him straight. So by the third time he's repeated it, it seems they're actually believing it. Hell, he'd convince me if I didn't know it was all lies.

We don't look that much alike close up, but I guess he's a similar height, got dark hair, and from across the room in the middle of a scuffle it'd be harder to tell the difference. Not that I think the guards really give a damn anyways, so long as there's someone to pin it on. And no one else who was there is going to confirm any details. Even if they know what happened they'll settle things their own way, not through the system.

So finally we're on our feet 'cause it's been decided Bobby's heading to solitary, being as they can't exactly extend his sentence no more anyways, while I'm being taken back to the cell block. The guards are busy shaking hands with the warden, occupied with their own conversation and I take the chance to quickly ask him a question.

"What the hell, Bobby, why you doing this?"

"Guess I don't owe you no more, Shepard."

"But—"

"Don't worry about it."

"But—"

"Listen, Tim, I got no chance of ever getting out this place so I figure you might as well, ain't no sense in you getting stuck here too. Just don't fuck up again alright? Besides," he adds, cracking a grin at me, "could do with a few weeks peace."

xxxxxx

Day Five Hundred and Ten.

I guess even Brannigan must believe it was Bobby that was responsible 'cause more than a week has passed and I've only had a couple of minor beatings, still got the use of both of my legs. I've been trying to keep my head down, keep a low profile, but realistically if they want to get me I know it'll happen sooner or later no matter what I do.

Lately I've been spending most my time back at the cell, on my own, and I'm here on my bunk when the guards turn up. For a few seconds I think it's all up, that they're here for me. Except then I see the guy behind them, dragging a thin mattress in his hands.

"All right, this is it. You get the bench."

It was only a matter of time before we got a third, 'cause apparently there's way more criminals than beds, and they've been working their way along this block tripling up the cells all month, and today it's finally our turn. From the corner of my eye I can see the guy is looking me over, but I honestly cannot be bothered to do anything, not even acknowledge him, just close my eyes again and I'm relieved when pretty soon Ray appears to take control.

New guy is called Tommy, but I honestly couldn't tell you anything else, don't listen to a word him and Ray say to each other. He seems decent enough, but I ain't doing it again, I'm not intending to get caught up giving a damn about anyone else in here. Walt's gone for good, Bobby's down in solitary. So the less I know the better. I don't know anything about the guy I killed either, but sometimes in the night I wonder whether he was an alright bloke. If maybe he's got a girl back home crying and hating me for what I've done, a family that's missing him. And then I wonder how many people back home would miss me if things had gone the other way.

xxxxxx

Day Five Hundred and Twenty-Four

Today Bobby is getting out of Solitary. I've just got back to the cells, finished my shift, only there ain't no sign of him and straight away from the look on Ray's face I know that something's not right.

"Afternoon."

But he don't speak.

"Ray? What's going on?" He's pale, unsteady, ain't ever known him be this quiet in all the months I been here.

"Bobby."

"What about him? Where is he?"

"Infirmary."

My stomach lurches. "Why? What happened?"

"Didn't even make it back down here after getting out of solitary. Brannigan was waiting for him. They beat him up so bad you can't hardly tell it's him apparently."

"He's gonna be okay though?" He has to be, there can't be another death on my conscience.

Ray just shrugs. "Don't know, depends if he wakes up again. I damn well told you not to get involved in that fight. There wasn't nothing you could do for Walt, and now look, you've just dragged everyone else into it too."

Then he lays into me, punching me. And I just let him. Because he's right. This is on me.

Walt might have brought it on himself, for trying to escape his problems by hiding behind the drugs. The other guy, well he deserved everything he got for what he done to Walt. But not Bobby. He's beaten half to death just because he done something to help me out.

And I've got to live with that fact. Can't change that it's done, only thing I can do is make sure it didn't end up like this for nothing.

xxxxxx

Day Five Hundred and Sixty.

It's really happening, I'm nearly there. The streets are finally recognisable, the distant skyline of the city has given way to the familiar buildings of downtown, and a couple of minutes later I'm at the bus station, stepping out into the evening sunshine. Looking around I spot a bar across the street and wonder if I've got enough cash on me to go get blinding drunk, find myself a girl and not think about McAlester for a while, not think about the guys who won't ever get to go home.

Heading towards the open door I can already hear the noise of the jukebox and the early evening drinking crowd, and I'm feeling good when some girl starts to head my way, smiling. She ain't exactly my type, but then again I'm not gonna say no. Not tonight.

It ain't long before I'm sat at the bar, a beer in one hand and my other arm round that same broad, pretending like I'm interested in what she's saying to me, that there ain't only one thing that I want from her. Reckon the same thing is on her mind too though, the way she's leaning up against me with her hand on my thigh and I'm looking over my shoulder, wondering if there's someplace out back we can go. Must be real obvious how desperate I am 'cause she whispers to me then takes my hand, leads me towards the back part of the bar and into some tiny storage room. We ain't in there all that long, but it was good enough, for her too apparently, as she's telling me about some party we could head to later, offering me a repeat performance.

Seems I'm well on the way to what most the guys would take as the perfect first night of freedom. Only then it hits me that I don't actually want all that—not tonight, anyways.

There'll be plenty of days for drinking and screwing around, for living up to my reputation. Instead I find myself wanting to just go home. Letting other people in don't seem to bring you nothing but trouble, but even after all that's happened I still find myself wanting to be around someone I actually give a damn about right now.

Before the broad can protest, I'm on my feet heading across to the payphone. Dialling the familiar number, I take a deep breath and pray it ain't Harry who answers 'cause it's a hell of a long walk home from here.

"Hello?" Guess it really must be my lucky day.

"Hey, kid."

"Tim? What's the matter, you ok?" my brother asks, confused. "Where the hell are you, why's there music?"

"I'm okay. You still got my car, Curly, or you managed to trash it?"

"I ain't done nothing to it. Why, who's been telling you shit? Was it Angela? In them letters she sends you? Lying little—"

"Curly, just shut it. I need you to drive downtown. Right now."

"What? Why? I don't understand."

"I'm home, kid, I need you to come pick me up, quick as you can. There's some dive bar, across from the bus station. You know the place I mean?"

"Yeah, but how come—"

"Ain't answering your questions now. Just hurry the fuck up, I'll be waiting outside."

Hanging up, I walk out the bar without a second look at the girl, pace about impatiently then lean against the wall, all the while wishing I'd bought some smokes. Finally I let myself smile when I see my wreck of a car turn the corner onto the street, then grin even more as I realise Angela's hopping out the car, and she's running over and hugging me like she used to when she was little, before she decided she was too cool to barely even speak to me in public, let alone hug me. Curly's stood behind her now, grinning and cursing at me for not telling him I was getting out. And even though I'm pretty sure that within days—if not hours—they'll both be driving me mad, it feels pretty damn good to see the pair of them again, to know someone's glad I'm home.

Reckon I got enough reasons right here to keep my promises, to make the most of being out…to never go back.

A/N: Huge thanks for reading to the end - it would be great to hear any thoughts you have on how it's turned out, even if this has been posted a while, so I'd be really grateful if you could take a moment to leave a review? Oh, and if you liked this and would like to read any more about what happens next for Tim, then 'Back to the Start' takes a look at his life now he's out of McAlester.