Chapter Text
Well, I'm not a zombie but I feel like one today
Self-induced comatose, chemical daze
Hi, my name is Eddie, I'm an addict
(Hi Eddie!)
Daddy should've never raised me on Black Sabbath
If someone had told Eddie Munson a month ago that he’d be busted for hard narcotic drugs, he’d have laughed in their faces. He rarely stocked them, and he was too smart to get caught anyway. His golden rules of dealing, never indulge in your own product, never take an IOU, and never leave your drugs out in the open, because you never know who might drop in for a visit. It was just his luck that paramedics had found his drugs, and then cops had come crawling all up his ass to sniff out the rest. True, paramedics found his drugs foaming from his mouth, but still, he thought it was shitty of them to report him, given the circumstances.
Fast forward an ER trip, a stay at county and the judge had been ready to drop the hammer on him. He’d already consigned himself to the fact he might be bunking with his Dad up at state penitentiary, there was no denying possession when it was flooded in his veins and had him being dragged to the hospital. Until Wayne had written a letter to the judge, pleading, begging but for the grace of God not to send Eddie to jail, give him anything but a custodial sentence.
So here they were, driving halfway across the state to appease a judge who could apparently be swayed by a working man sounding desperate. Everyone in Hawkins knew Judge Bancole. His son had overdosed at a frat party a few years before, thankfully not something Eddie had supplied, and despite Bancole’s reputation for harsh sentences for drug users, Wayne had apparently appealed to their shared trauma.
He’d been quiet the entire ride, sulking in his seat as Wayne drove his beat up 1976 Chevy Silverado. His was an ancient wheezing thing, a hideous beige with a cream stripe on the sides, and the aged brown leather bench seats still smelled of the years of cigarettes Wayne had smoked. His bag was thrown on the backseat, the judge being merciful enough to give him one last night at home, before he’d have to present himself for admission, or risk being recalled to jail.
Eddie stared out the window, scooped up tight in his seat as he refused to acknowledge Wayne or the situation he was being forced in to. They’d been on the road for nearly three hours now, and he’d been just as petulant when he got in to the truck back at Forrest Hills. They were headed north, taking the I-65 until they were a few miles from Shorewood Forest, that’s where the facility was, squirrelled away somewhere along a deserted lane within a valley of trees so no one would have to see it’s residents.
They turned off the smooth road on to a dirt track and Eddie couldn’t deny his reality any longer. He roughly sat up in his seat, flopping back with a heavy sigh.
“This really sucks.” he grumbled, for at least the fifth time since they set off.
“Well, it’s this or jail.” Wayne replied bluntly. “Might do you good to talk some things out.”
“There’s nothing to talk about!” Eddie hissed under his breath, jacking his elbow up against the window to drop his head in to his palm.
“Your little jaunt to the ER says otherwise.”
“I told you, it was an accident.”
“Mhmm.”
Wayne didn’t bite, didn’t reopen the argument they’d been trying not to have since he was released from hospital and slapped in cuffs. The dirt road steered to the right and soon enough they pulled up to a set of wide arching iron gates.
’New Havens Correctional for the ill and disturbed.’ It read, aged and rusted where the black paint was peeling off.
“Is that what you think I am? Disturbed?” He scoffed at Wayne, who’d already rolled his window down to press the buzzer.
“God, Ed, I jus’ don’t know what to think anymore. But this is the first step to figurin’ out what the hell is goin’ on with you an’ I want you to at least try.” He warned.
A voice came through the weathered speaker beside the driver’s side, and Eddie heard his name, before they’re buzzed through the gates.
“Time was you always said there’s nothing wrong with me.” Eddie said quietly, glaring at the gates swinging open to let him in, only to swing closed behind them.
The dirt road continued straight ahead, where it was lined by trees and green lawns, until thick walls rose steeply to border off their view, and the dirt gave way to crunching gravel. The building loomed out in front of them, gothic and Victorian like an old stately home, with steepled triangular roofs. Every section of weathered stonework was framed by windows, all with bars fitted outside and rot festering at the woodwork.
Wayne turned in to the parking lot to one side, already dotted with cars and turned off the engine. He turned sharply in his seat and Eddie just felt the pep talk coming, he could tell them from the way Wayne gave a long sigh.
“It’s not that there’s somethin’…wrong with you, kid. But you haven’t been happy for a long time, an’ if these folks think they can make you better then I gotta take that chance. You have to take that chance. Because I can’t find you on the floor like that again.”
Eddie had the decency to feel ashamed, an emotion that had been coming and going since that night. He avoided his eyes though, he couldn’t look at Wayne directly when they talked about this. Instead he picked at his ripped jeans, shaking his head.
“Wayne, I told you-“
“Well if you go inside an’ make a real go of it maybe we won’t have anymore accidents in future.” He interjected, not unkindly, but firm in his tone.
Wayne didn’t wait for Eddie as he climbed from the truck, slamming the old door behind him to be sure it caught. Eddie grabbed his stuff from the backseat and followed, looking around as Wayne locked up. The trees and flowerbeds didn’t do much to budge the perpetual dark cloud that seemed to hang over the place, the aura of dilapidation and decay seeped from the masonry and wrought iron bars. He knew it must be packed with people but so far it felt deserted and not inviting at all. He hadn’t expected rainbows and all mod-cons, but this was worse than he thought it would be.
Wayne had borrowed him his old army dufflebag, a cylindrical green thing that cinched closed at the top, and he slung it over one shoulder as they headed across the gravel. The front of the building was decorated with potted plants and the grass was a healthy green, but the doors looked like a bear trap, and he hated that he had to walk through them willing. The tall brown oak doors looked daunting as they climbed the long trail of stone steps and approached. They stared at the heavy knocker for a long second, a huge hoop that Eddie was tempted to bang loudly anyway, until they spied a plastic doorbell to the side. It gave a cheery tune when Wayne pushed it and Eddie had to roll his eyes. He never expected he’d be committed to an asylum, let alone to the tune of When The Saints Go Marching In.
The door swung open with a loud creak and a metallic groan, to reveal an attendant in white pants and a crisp tucked in white shirt, even his shoes were white. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of the 1950’s, with his hair in a neat wave and that cheery permasmile.
“Good Morning. You must be Eddie, please come on in.” He grinned, stepping back to extend his arm.
Eddie just stared at him, sensing the biggest gingerbread house of his life. He was still thinking up something snarky to fire back when Wayne gripped his shoulder and marched him inside. The door closed behind them with the same screaming groan and it took a second for his vision to adjust to the darker room. There were lights hanging with green glass shades from the high ceilings above, the teal and white tiles squeaked under those ridiculous white shoes and the entry corridor was cut off with white bars from floor to ceiling. A receptionist sat out front behind a wooden desk, skittering on a typewriter and looking over her chained glasses at the text.
“You must be Eddie.” She grinned when they approached, and Eddie slapped on his best smile as he leaned over and briefly took her hand like she was an upper class lady.
“Yes, ma’am. And who might you be?” He grinned.
“I am Doris, I’m the receptionist around here. I decide who goes where and when.” She smiled, with perfectly white teeth as she adjusted her pink cardigan and string of pearls.
“Really? Well, that’s very useful to know.”
“Ed, goddamn it.” Wayne sighed. “Serious, remember?”
“I am taking it serious.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as Doris continued to look over his ripped jeans and ratty band shirt with a sceptical eye.
“Mr Munson,” She said, turning her attention to Wayne. “The Warden begs your apologies but a meeting ran over and he’s unable to greet you himself. But Adam here will take you through processing and take Eddie where he needs to go.”
Permasmile Adam stood to attention like he might click his heels at the praise, and led them toward one of two metal gates behind the desk.
“May I take your bag?” He smiled, as he held it open for them to pass through.
“No.”
Eddie marched ahead, his petulance returning as he felt the cage tightening around him. Adam led them up several flights of stairs and down a series of corridors, mouth running a hundred miles an hour as they walked. The walls were nondescript pale blue on the bottom half and white on top, paint peeling in the corners and punctuated by locked doors and corridors with locked gates in front of them. He realised the building was a horseshoe, and they were led down the east wing.
“I’m not usually on your wing, I’m afraid. I usually care for the ladies on the west side, but you’ve got me for today.”
Adam himself wasn’t bad looking, a fair complexion, sandy hair and dimples, but his sharp blue eyes set Eddie on edge, and he wasn’t trying to make friends here. They were led through a locked gate to another reception. ‘D Wing’ it read above the counter, which was enclosed besides the hatch in the middle. A bored looking man sat at the hatch, making no attempts to hide the fact he was reading a Playboy and smoking mid shift.
“Hey, Tony. Got a new one for you.”
Tony dropped the magazine and gave Eddie as much a look of disdain as he did Adam. He tapped the ash out of his cigarette and set it in an ashtray.
“Processing?”
“Advanced. There are red labels in his file.”
Eddie didn’t know what that meant but he guessed this wasn’t going to be fun. He shot Wayne a look of contempt that he was having to put up with any of this nonsense, but he didn’t look the least bit apologetic.
“Bag up here.” Tony said, slapping the counter.
Eddie frowned and hesitated, tightening his hand on the canvas bag slung over his shoulder.
“Just some checks to keep everyone safe.” Adam grinned. “It’s standard procedure for new intakes. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Eddie didn’t look so sure, but Wayne cleared his throat and that slab of guilt slammed into Eddie again. It was the same little cough Wayne did when making a teen Eddie apologise to a teacher for being rude, he resented it as much then. He stepped forward and shoved his bag through the hatch, glaring so they knew he certainly wasn’t happy about it. With startling ease, Tony, the slightly overweight sweaty looking attendant, swiped through his possessions like it wasn’t invasive at all. His clothes were shaken out, his boxers waved around like a white flag, his notebook shaken until he worried pages would come loose and his toiletries inspected like they were bombs.
“While Tony does that, if you’ll just follow me this way,” Adam grinned. “We just need to get you changed and patted down.”
“And what?” Eddie spat. “Go pat yourself, I’m good.”
“Again, standard procedure, I’m afraid.” Adam grinned. “It’s very quick and of course we do our best to be respectful.”
He looked sharply to Wayne again, argument primed on his tongue, but this time spared Wayne the need for an instructive cough. Eddie huffed as he stomped along behind Adam, who led them to a small room to the side, empty besides a desk, a cabinet and a curtained screen.
“If you’ll just slip behind the curtain and strip down. It’s a very quick external check and nothing to be frightened off.”
Eddie shot him a look at the insinuation he was afraid and headed behind the curtain. He wasn’t embarrassed of his body, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to parade it in front of strangers. Within a few minutes he was stripped nude, made to squat and cough, his clothes were stacked in to Adam’s arms and he was given a set of white sweats and white slip on shoes. Everything’s cotton so at least it’s comfortable, but as he pulled them on he could tell they’d been worn several times by God knows who. He rejoined Wayne in the corridor with pinked cheeks and a deathly glare.
“All good?” Wayne asked carefully, and Eddie refused to grant him a response, as they settled in to nearby chairs.
Adam slunk inside the reception with Tony and together they ordered his things, most going back in to his bag and a small pile being made on the counter. All his clothes are packed away, even his boxers, back in to his dufflebag. He’s not allowed his Walkman and tapes, has to surrender all his jewellery, belt and chains. His toiletries are sealed in a paper bag, even his hairbrush, and they go back inside his duffle too. He’s allowed to keep his notebook and copy of the Hobbit, after the pages have been thoroughly riffled through, but they take his pen, and that felt like the final straw.
“What the shit! That’s not some cheap ballpoint you know!” He yelled, launching from his seat against the wall.
“I see that. It’s also a very pointed article. You can get crayons from the craft room once you’re settled in.” Adam grinned, and Eddie was starting to wish he could smack it from his face.
“Jesus fucking Christ. I can’t even have a pen!”
“We had an attendant stabbed with a pen. So no.” Tony grumbled, eyeing the packet of Camels he’d just found hidden in a pair of socks.
Eddie shoved his arm through the hatch and snatched them from him before he could claim them. In the end he’s left with two books and his cigarettes, though they took his lighter. They even take the hair ties on his wrist since they had metal on them, swapping them for rubber bands.
“You can get replacements at commissary.”
In borrowed clothes, sans underwear and jewellery, it’s the least dressed he’d ever been. His fingers felt bare without his rings, and the familiar jingle of his chain was missing as he moved. Even his footsteps felt lighter without his bulky sneakers on his feet. His body, after being stripped both figuratively and literally, felt alien to him. By the time they’re done, he’s devoid of everything that makes him who he is. Maybe that’s the point.
He dropped back in to his seat with a scowl and a pout, ignoring Wayne who tried to remind him at least he’d gotten to keep his books and smokes. Wayne was called up to the desk to sign some paperwork and with nothing to moan about, Eddie ended up scanning the halls for what he could see. He did a double take when he could have sworn he saw a ghost sweep across the far end of the hall, behind the locked bars. Not an apparition or phantom, but solid, like the cutesy ghost costumes made of bedsheets. He got up and wandered closer, only now paying attention to the people he could see lingering at the far end of the hallway.
They wore the same white sweats he now wore, and the same daunted expression. From here he could see a rotund man in frantic conversation with a doorframe, hissing and giggling under his breath. An older man was sitting in a wheelchair, gripping the wheel to rock himself back and forth with a serene expression. And then surprisingly a woman, her arms wrapped tightly around a bundled sheet as she stroked it irreverently and held it to her cheek. They all looked a little dirty, a little unkept, and very disturbed.
When he’d been told he was being put in a placement to promote positive mental health and corrective therapy for drug use, this was not what he had in mind. He looked to the right, seeing another locked hallway that was empty to the end and then turned up in to stairs. All he could hear was hissing, animalistic noises and crying somewhere distant. He turned back and jumped when he saw the rotund man was stood closer than expected, behind the bars but his face pressed sharply between them. He was laughing at something under his breath, gripping the bars and scratching at them as he looked wideeyed at Eddie, or through him really. Eddie backed away, weary of how far those arms could reach.
“Ed, get over here.”
He hurried back to Wayne, casting a look over his shoulder only to see those wide blue eyes were following him. He felt like he’d somehow tripped into a Stephen King novel, he didn’t think places like this were real. Wayne was just pushing some paperwork back through the hatch at Adam, Tony having wandered off.
“Wayne, you can’t leave me here, these people are nuts!” He hissed. “I swear, Jack Nicholson’s gonna jump out any second!”
“These people are sick, an’ tryin’ to get well, just like you.” Wayne said patiently, placing both his hands on Eddies shoulders.
“I am well.” He insisted.
“Ed, this is happenin’ whether you like it or not. Now you either stay or you get recalled to jail for the possession charge. You’re lucky I could talk the judge out of it at all.” Wayne said sternly, his voice only raising a little in that way it always did when he was stressed, never yelling but raised. “Look, jus’ do what they ask an’ try to engage with it, it might do you some good.”
“This blows!” Eddie spat, shrugging off his arms and moving to drop back in to his chair, crossing his arms and glaring at the floor.
“Don’t worry Sir, we’ll take real good care of him.” Adam chipped in.
“Hey champ, how about you suck my nuts for me?” Eddie shot, flipping him the finger with a deep scowl.
“Eddie!”
“Don’t worry Sir, I’ve heard worse.”
“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie grumbled, as he watched that weirdo under a bedsheet cross the end of the hall again.
Once they finished up with the paperwork, Wayne entered his peripheral, carefully taking a seat beside him.
“You can be angry if you want to. I’m jus’ tryin’ to do what’s best.” Wayne said softly, elbows to his knees and hands clasped.
“What’s best is to let me go home!”
“You know I can’t do that. I ain’t arguin’ over it again.”
If he was being honest with himself, jail scared Eddie. He’d been kept at county lockup while Judge Bancole made up his mind, mixing mostly with speeders and alcoholics on a Friday night. But jail, real jail, it made him shiver. His Dad came home with stories of rubbing elbows with murderers and rapists, big time drug dealers who shipped the stuff in from Mexico, and people who thought nothing of kidnapping vulnerable women. His Dad made it sound like some sort of club you earned your entry in to, but it always scared Eddie, since he visited his Dad there and no one really looked any different to the everyday people he saw on the street. You couldn’t tell the murderers from the rapists, you didn’t know who you were sleeping next to. He didn’t want to go to jail, he knew he wasn’t cut out for it, and he was terrified of the stories he’d heard about the showers. He might be gay but he knew what that was all about, and the thought had kept him awake at the county jail, let alone state.
“How long am I even gonna be here?” He conceded.
“‘Til you’re better.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me!” He whined, sighing heavily. “It was an accident!”
Wayne didn’t bite, didn’t fall back in to the same argument and it rankled Eddie. He wanted him to shout, wanted him to yell, even against his own nature. But Wayne didn’t, he rubbed his hands together and sat a little straighter.
“Call me when you can, I wanna hear how you’re doin’. An’ I’ll see you when you can come home.”
Wayne got to his feet and watched Eddie for a second, as he stubbornly refused to meet his eye, let alone offer any type of farewell.
“Boy, get on your feet an’ hug me goodbye.”
Wayne’s tone was kind, and his soft lilt had Eddie crumbling in seconds. He gave way to fear and stood to cling to Wayne for as long as he could. He’d been under Wayne’s wing for as long as he could remember, in one way or another, and the thought of being here alone made him uneasy. When they pulled apart Wayne gripped his shoulder, stooping a look him in the eye.
“Now, I love you. An’ I want you to be better. Ok?”
Eddie stubbornly nodded, biting his lip as Wayne gently knocked his chin with his knuckles. Eddie didn’t say it back, he never said it back.
“I’ll see ya, kiddo.” He said, patting his shoulder. Wayne followed Adam back through the locked gate, and suddenly, Eddie was alone.
Tony snapped him out of it a few long seconds later, barking at him to follow. He scooped up his few meagre possessions and followed him, thankfully down a different corridor to the ones Eddie had seen. He passed through a locked gate, flinching when it slammed shut behind him and Tony officially locked him in. They passed a few attendants, mostly men in the same white ensemble as Adam, though none were smiling like he was. It seemed the welcome committee only extended so far, since none of the attendants greeted each other, or even looked bothered to see there was a new face on the wing.
The hallway gave way to doors, one after the other on both sides, some doors open, others not, all with a big red button beside them. He caught sight of a guy in a rocking chair, another pacing within his room and one violently masturbating, though Eddie looked sharply away as his face burned red. He glanced back up, walking with his things clutched to his chest, to catch the barest glance of wide brown eyes and chestnut hair, watching him thoughtfully through a gap in the door. They were the most alert set of eyes he had seen so far, knowing and careful as they scrutinised him. Before he walked closer and the door slammed shut with a quick snap.
He had passed some rooms that had two beds in, and he panicked for a long moment about who the hell he was about to be locked in with. His Dad always said how your bunk mates, or cellies as he called them, could be your best friend or your worst nightmare. Eddie didn’t know if they’d be trading smokes or if he’d be sleeping with his back to the wall, one eye open.
So he was immensely relieved when they stopped opposite those curious eyes, and he saw his room only had one bed. There’s another bed frame but no mattress adorned it, and no signs of someone else staying there. The room itself was cripplingly basic, with a bed, a toilet and sink, a small set of drawers and a nightstand. Tony was grumbling along beside him, and Eddie only caught the latter end of what he was saying.
“-And since you’re on watch, you’ll be given your things as and when you need them.”
“What things?” He blinked.
“Toothbrush, comb, that kinda stuff. For now we’ll keep them locked up in the bathroom, for when you need them.”
“Gonna wipe my ass for me too?” Eddie scoffed under his breath.
“You’ll get a change of clothes with laundry tomorrow, for now you sleep in what you’ve got. You’ve missed dinner so hope you had lunch, breakfast is at 9 and if you miss it you gotta wait until dinner.”
With that curt explanation, Tony turned on his heel and left Eddie alone. He scanned the room, and when he looked back behind him to hear someone making strange noises not too far away, he quickly closed the solid metal door. He wasn’t locked in, which was a small mercy but between the tiny slit window running along the top of the wall opposite and the caged in lightbulb above his head, there wasn’t much to explore. He set his things on the small set of drawers and dropped to sit on the mattress. It didn’t squeak which was another mercy, but it’s also hard. He lifted the thin cotton blanket to find the mattress consisted of a few inches of thick padding and the bed itself was metal grating. The pillow was so thin he’d have to fold it and he was already feeling a chill.
He didn’t want to go on to the ward yet, he wouldn’t admit it but he felt a little afraid. There’s not much to do besides read, so he huddled in to the corner of his bed and wrapped the blanket around himself. Then he let himself slip in to the world of warm, cosy Hobbit holes and tried to forget about where he was. Hours later, he didn’t get any warning when the lights turned off at ten, and without a lamp it was impossible to read. He gave up and lay down, burrowing in to the blanket and wrapping his arms around to try and contain the little body heat he had. Then the noises started up, howls and screams, yells and crying, like a fucked up backing track. He missed the sound of crickets. He missed the sound of Wayne’s snores. He missed the sound of the raccoon that lived under the trailer, even if it did keep him up.
After a fitful night of tossing and turning and trying to guess which direction the crying was coming from, Eddie learned the only positive about his room was that it stayed pitch black even in to the early hours, thanks to the high walls and thin beam window. That worked great for him since he couldn’t sleep with any light pouring in, but that was rudely interrupted in the morning, when he was startled awake by the light turning on overhead and banging on his door.
“You alive in there?” A male voice called, already opening the door.
“Fuck you.” Eddie grumbled, stuffing his pillow over his head only to bump his head on the firm mattress.
“Get up. Laundry in five, breakfast in thirty.”
“I just fell asleep an hour ago.”
“I look like I give a fuck. Up. Now!”
There’s a sharp bang and Eddie flinched at the metallic clang that echoed in his ears, radiating through the metal bed frame. He pushed himself to sit up to see these attendants had batons, thick wooden sticks that apparently weren’t important enough to show on the welcoming tour. Eddie glared after the man who skirted out of the room without a care in the world, and rubbed his eyes when he was finally alone again.
His hair was a nest, as it always was, but since his comb had been confiscated he had to resort to finger combing, not that it did much. His breath felt thick and he craved peppermint, as well as black coffee, though he doubted they were taking orders. He hefted himself out of bed to find he’d slept in his shoes, which felt cold since he didn’t even have socks yet. He stumbled to his door, still wiping sleep from his eyes to blink awake sharply when he saw everyone else stood at their doors too. Like soldiers, each resident was stood in their doorway in their white sweats, standing to attention and waiting for the two carts that were moving along the corridor, one on each side.
He watched as each person tossed a pile of clothes in to the cart and was handed back a fresh set. The ladies pushing the carts, in blue polo shirts, didn’t seem to notice or care when some of the more unhinged residents didn’t give up their clothes freely, just snatched the bundle and stuffed a clean set in to their hands. Eddie didn’t have anything to handover when the lady reached him, but she eyed him for a second.
“I ain’t seen you. You the new kid?” She squinted, almost suspiciously.
“Uh, yeah, that’s me. Just got in yesterday.”
Without another word she leaned under the cart, handing him another set of sweats, a basic set of pyjamas consisting of cotton bottoms and a plain white tshirt, a single rough towel, a washcloth and a weird looking toothbrush with something stuck to it. He was more than a little excited when she also handed him a thicker quilt, and a pillow cover, clearly they’d been missing yesterday, and he didn’t want to think about why they’d needed to be washed so urgently before his arrival. He stood as each item was loaded in to his arms with little care, but he was glad of them anyway.
“You swap what you need. You forget to swap, you don’t got what you need. Got it?”
“…Got it.” He nodded, clutching the pile in his arms.
She moved on with her cart to the next room and he stood in the doorway a moment longer as the others tossed their dirty laundry. They all looked like marshmallows in their matching sweats, some of varying shades of grey, and the portly man down the end reminded him of the Stay-Puft guy from Ghostbusters.
He smirked and glanced across the hall, to the room slightly along to the right. There were those eyes again. The same wide brown eyes surveyed him then quickly darted away just as soon as they met. The boy was beautiful, roughly the same age, about the same height, broader, muscular but soft somehow. He was still waiting for the cart to reach him, but Eddie noticed even his dirty laundry was neatly folded. He huddled in an oversize mustard yellow cardigan over a plain white tshirt, and hid behind floppy brown hair and gold wire framed glasses. Eddie watched as he traded his dirty laundry, setting them carefully in the cart, for fresh ones. As the lady walked away, the boy glanced up to catch Eddie’s eye again, but this time he turned a pleasant shade of pink. Eddie watched as the boy spun on his heel and darted back in to his room, closing the door with a snap.
Back in the privacy of his room Eddie made use of the washcloth, cleaning as best he could since they hadn’t even given him soap. The toothbrush was half the size it should be, made of basic wood with a single pellet of dried toothpaste stuck in to the plastic bristles. It didn’t taste like peppermint but at least his mouth was clean. He changed into the fresh sweats and found the cord had been taken from these ones too. He vaguely wondered how many people had tried to hang themselves with sweatpants. Not that he would. He just wondered.
Once he felt moderately clean, he shoved his smokes in his pocket and stuck his head out in to the hall, to find the other residents heading towards the far end of the corridor, so he followed. There were three doors at the end, only one open at the moment, which led in to a cafeteria on the left. A enclosed kitchen and a serving hatch stood to the left side of the room, with the same blue polo shirted staff, and tables were scattered around with plastic chairs. He joined the line to find the offerings were pitiful, either stale cereal, stodgy porridge or dry toast. But he did have a choice of trifle, chocolate pudding or fruit, all in sealed plastic cups. At the end of the line, once he’d resigned himself to porridge, fruit and a weak cup of instant coffee, he greeted a medicine cart with numerous pots and pills laid out. He frowned, no one had said anything about medication.
“Nice try, Munson.” The brown haired attendant scoffed. “Keep it moving.”
“Medication time!” Eddie grinned, wider and wider until the attendant looked slightly unnerved, then glared and turned on his heel to find a seat.
Eddie found a corner to hide in and eat his lumpy breakfast, and watch the noisy spectacle of others being forced to down pills. He observed the fellow residents, most of whom seemed docile right now, whispering or muttering to themselves, some slapping at their faces for reasons known only to them, or so checked out they had to be moved around by the attendants. He kept his eyes up to see if the chestnut haired boy would put in an appearance, but he didn’t.
Like clockwork another line formed and he followed blindly to see what he was supposed to do. They were led back to their rooms and shortly after a call rang out for ‘showers!’, for whoever wanted one. He grabbed his towel and damp washcloth, and joined the line. After being led down the hall, in the opposite direction of the cafeteria, and around the reception to a wooden door, they lined up against a wall and slowly shuffled along each time someone else finished.
The bathrooms were as bare as the bedrooms. A fan slowly rotated above them, and although the large blurred windows let in a lot of light, they were still framed in bars. The tiles were white, on the floor and the walls, and looked like they hadn’t been cleaned since they were installed. The room stank of sweat and stagnant water, the general haze of grimness hanging in the air like a vapour. In the middle of the room were three freestanding bathtubs in a row, and as one person got out, the attendants began to fill it up again. Classical and operatic music played over a crackly tannoy and Eddie smirked at the portly man sitting in a tub like he was a king, unfazed by others in the room. He moved his arms like he was conducting, and has the something of ‘mob boss’ about him, with beefy arms but a gentle smile.
Eddie was thankful when he spotted the line for the shower cubicle, which at least had a small door on them for privacy. The shower was filthy, but at least he was given a tiny bar of soap this time, so he scrubbed himself down in record speed and redressed just as soon as he was dry.
He was allowed to walk himself back to his room this time, or maybe the attendants had stopped caring already, so he tracked the hallways and learned his way around, heading back to put his things away first.
The ward was busier now, the residents milling about and the attendants dashing from place to place to feed, wash and dress those incapable of doing it for themselves. No one seemed to pay him any mind, so he found himself wandering, exploring really. He headed back down the hall to find the other two doors have been opened. One was empty, of people at least. He stuck his head in to see an old piano, an easel and a table with craft things spread out, paper and wax crayons. He snagged a few and stuck them in his pocket, since they took his pen. There were no windows in there, and since he didn’t fancy drawing right now, he headed back to the room he heard noise from.
The rec room was larger, and seemed to be where most of the residents spent their time. To the left of the door was a cluster of assorted chairs beneath a TV, that was housed high up in a wire cage. Opposite the door was a rug with cushions scattered around an armchair, currently occupied by the portly man from the bathtub, and this time he was conducting for real, wearing headphones extending from the record player beside him. Eddie’s ears pricked up at the sight of it but he decided against disturbing anyone, he’d take a look later. Especially at the small bookcase pressed against the wall. To the left of that was a set of tall windows in an alcove, framed by long red curtains, with two high backed armchairs in front.
“Hey,” he called, heading toward a red headed attendant that was hovering near the wall, casting a watchful eye over the room. “Any chance I can get a lighter? Haven’t had my morning smoke yet.”
Eddie didn’t recognise this one, so he tried to grin and be cheery, maybe charm the attendant in some way, but he looked nonplussed by Eddie talking to him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, handing Eddie one solitary matchstick.
“You’re serious?” He stared at him.
“We house arsonists. Be grateful you’re even allowed to smoke.”
Eddie rolled his eyes and turned away, hovering around the numerous chairs until he could see what was on the TV. It was some nature show, talking about birds. He sighed and lit his cigarette, scratching the match against his stubble. Shit, he hadn’t even thought about razors. Of course they were banned, but how the hell did he shave? He’d have to ask someone, he couldn’t stand it growing out.
He sucked on his cigarette until it burned down to the nub, soaking his veins in nicotine and softening his mind. His thoughts were interrupted as he leaned back against the wall, when that boy walked in. His hair was wet so he must have been for a shower, and this time he was in a pale blue cardigan, a white tee on underneath. Eddie wasn’t sure if there was a meaning to the colour or how he got his hands on them, but it complimented his tan complexion well. He’s slightly pink cheeked Eddie noticed, perhaps from the shower being too hot, and he walked with his hands hidden in his sleeves. He caught Eddie’s eye as soon as he entered and immediately ducked his head down when he saw Eddie staring, pushing his glasses up his nose. The boy headed directly to the window, settling in to an armchair that he pulled to a tighter angle, so he couldn’t be seen.
After only an hour, that felt like an eternity, Eddie realised real quick just how mundane his time here was going to be. The residents were allowed to mix, with women wandering in to the rec room as the morning went on. But those capable of speech had little in way of conversation to offer, blinking at Eddie like he’d grown another head when he tried to say hello. And the TV offered nature documentaries or quiz shows at most, with the attendants changing the channel if something came on that they deemed inappropriate.
Giving up with a sigh, Eddie headed back to his room to find his copy of the Hobbit. He didn’t want to hide away completely, since he didn’t want his room to feel like a cell, but when he got back to the rec room his seat had been taken, by someone who clearly had no concept of what Eddie was trying to tell them. The second armchair in the window was still empty, he knew that much. He didn’t want to disturb anyone but he also didn’t want to sit on the floor. He wandered over, book in hand, and hoped he wasn’t crossing some unwritten rule, like his Dad said prisons had.
“Can I sit here?” Eddie asked politely, stepping between the two chairs.
The boy looked at him sharply, then blankly, then looked away. He pulled up his legs to curl in to a ball and tucked his head to his chest, like he was getting ready to take a nap. Eddie took it as a yes and sat down, sitting crosslegged and flipped back to his place. He got the distinct feeling of being watched but decided not to look up, since the guy would probably only run away again. And because this was the closest he’d gotten to company since he’d got there, and he didn’t want to resort to talking to the walls like the rest of them. After a while he felt the prickle on his skin again, of eyes wandering over him. Eddie had barely looked over and the boy was already springing from his seat. He disappeared in a blur of blue cotton and Eddie craned to look around the high back of the armchair to see him fleeing, presumably to his room. He slumped back in to his seat, huffing. He had a feeling New Havens was going to drive him insane, if he wasn’t already.
Eddie didn’t see him again until dinner, having sat alone reading for hours. A bell rang out just before five, and he looked over to see people beginning to shuffle around, so with a sigh he followed the line back in to the cafeteria. Like worker ants they trotted along, shuffling forward until they reached the serving hatch. Eddie was craving another smoke, and the absence of weed in his bloodstream made him a little too alert for comfort. He scanned the line, wondering if he was close enough to the front to get anything good, when a flash of blue in his peripheral made him turn.
The boy was right behind him, clutching his tray in hand. His eyes were already fixed somewhere near the ceiling and he swayed in his cardigan, rocking almost, turning his body until he was facing away from Eddie despite not moving his feet. Eddie had done that before, trying to look as innocent as possible when a cop car went by, or when he got caught looking in the locker room that one time. Eddie smirked as he turned back. The guy was adorable, and Eddie considered messing with him just to see if he’d blush again.
Thankfully dinner was better than breakfast, though only marginally. Today it’s meatloaf, nowhere near as good as Wayne’s, and dry, but at least it’s a bigger portion than at breakfast. And it was better than the sloppy joe’s on offer, that looked more slop than meat. He did get a choice between a trifle or a chocolate pudding cup, both with red tartan pattern lids, he took the latter. At home he’d have snacked at lunch and then some, but here it as two meals, take it or starve. So Eddie took his tray, and turned to find a seat.
Eddie sat alone at the corner table again, facing the room so he could see everything and grimaced his way through his meatloaf. The boy, pretty in powder blue, balked the second he turned from the hatch and saw Eddie’s eyes already on him. He unfroze quickly and skirted around the tables to sit at an empty one, far enough away that he looked alone, but close enough that Eddie knew his placement was deliberate.
He tried to catch his eye, no one had said two words to him in hours and Eddie was craving a little interaction, but the boy was suddenly in a world of his own. He was very focused on his food, and didn’t cast an eye at Eddie as he cut his food up in to precise cubes. Eddie had never seen such care taken over a meal before, but as he looked around he realised this guy he wasn’t the only struggling with his meal.
The portly conductor was being fed his food by an attendant, though it came out as quick as it went in, like a baby slurping a purée. An older woman looked oblivious to the fact food was in front of her, a man was sniffing each bite like it was poisoned and there was a girl having a breakdown, sobbing as she pushed it around her plate. No one else seemed to mind, maybe they’re used to it. Eddie watched as she fled after a few moments and two attendants dashed after her, taking the plate with them.
Eddie knew he’d messed up, accidentally overdosing the way he had, and he was grateful Judge Bancole had kept him out of jail, but he wasn’t so sure this was where he was meant to be. These people seemed to have problems, real problems, not the dumbass shit he tended to worry himself over. He gritted his teeth and reminded himself, within a month he’d be out of here, time served and he’d never have to think on it again. The only highlight of dinner was the chocolate pudding that, judging by the delicious taste, had been ordered in.
After dinner they were taken back to the rec room. After hours of rereading The Hobbit, he hated to admit it, but he’d gotten bored. There was only so many times you could reread a book and he’d not long read it again, so starting over felt a bit mundane. He searched the small bookcase to find a few titles that caught his eye but they were mostly in tatters, and he could bet there’d be at least a few pages missing.
In the end he joined a table of other residents who were working on a jigsaw puzzle, in the sense that they drooled and he worked on it, only to find pieces missing in the end. He was tempted to strike up conversation with the attendants, just for someone to talk to, but they were unfriendly when handing over matches so he doubted they were open to nuanced conversation.
He checked his watch and gave up around eight, taking his stack of borrowed books and a spare matchstick back to his room. He was surprised in the corridor when the doe eyed boy was striding toward him, hair wet again, with a washbag and towel clutched to his chest. He kept his head down, hiding behind his swooping fringe and delicate glasses, as they crossed paths and Eddie caught the scent of sandalwood and coconut. Eddie watched him go from his own doorway, then noticed the blank chalk board beside his own door, and looked across the hall to the boy’s sign. ‘Steve’s room.’
“Steve.” He read aloud, soft and appreciative.
Steve looked to him sharply, like a deer in the headlights just as he’d opened his door, and Eddie realised he’d spoken. The boy seemed frozen, hovering on tenterhooks to see what Eddie might have to say, and his brain scrambled for something less weird than knowing the name of a stranger.
“…Goodnight.”
The word had barely blurted from his mouth when he watched cherry blossoms swell in Steve’s cheeks, rosy under light gold glasses and contrasting sharply with his tan skin. He gave two blinks and then hurried in to his room without a response, and Eddie couldn’t help but smile, slipping in to his own room with a chuckle.