Solitary Echoes

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Summary: There’s no such thing as silence.

AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: catw00man@cryptoffic.com
RATING: R
SERIES: Because You’re Mine
CHARACTERS: Hawk (Kevin Harvick), Hawk POV.
PROMPT: Taming the Muse #64 (#39 for me) - Promise
COMPLETED: October 12, 2007
WORDS: 1,306
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Alright, I’ve gone off the deep end now. LOL What is it with me and new ideas? Anyway, I’ll be honest, this is probably the most “Original Character” thing I’ve ever written, especially considering neither Kevin or Junior have been in PRISON! This is definitely not the Kev and Dale you are used to.
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Solitary Confinement: Los Angeles Corrections Facility

You hear a lot of rumors about solitary.  It seems everyone has their own theory of what exactly will drive you insane.  Loneliness, lack of human contact, silent isolation, these are all popular theories that people swear will make you mad.  And then there’s the claustrophobia, walls closing in and total lack of control.  Your entire world is under the control of someone else’s whim until you don’t even know day from night.

But none of these things bother me.

In the end we’re all alone.  Five years in this place have taught me that.  You have no control from the moment you walk into your cell for the first time.  This is just a variation on a theme.  There really are no degrees of control.  You give up your freedom the instant you’re sentenced so, no, it’s not the lack of control that bothers me.  It’s the one thing they never warn you about that can really drive you mad.  The one thing no one ever seems to think of…or chooses not to mention.

Why didn’t anyone ever tell me how loud my own fucking mind can be?

Oh, I know the answer to that too.  Shift back on the hard, metal bed and stare up into the blackness, hands behind my head.  No one talks about it because no one wants to think about why they’re really here.  Sure you have those who like to claim innocence or pretend to be so hard and calloused that they don’t care.  But spend a week in here and see if you don’t start to doubt yourself for a moment when the only thing you can hear is the screaming in your own mind.

Just.  Unjust.  What is the honor of a sister really worth?  Throw a punch, just one; no one is supposed to die.  Genetic defects and other technical shit that no one really understands.  But a body’s a body and in the end that’s all that matters.  Ten to fifteen for an instant of your life that you can’t take back and probably would do all over again.  So what do you do?

You think of something else.

Roll off the cot and onto the floor, still unable to see an inch in front of me.  But I don’t need to see, only to feel as I start doing push ups, one of the few things I can still do even in this isolation.  I’ve spent enough time thinking about what brought me here, what changed my life forever.  I did what needed to be done and I’ll deal with the consequences…not like I have another choice.

They’re very few choices left in my life anymore.  When you eat, what you wear, when you sleep, all of these things are taken away from you so when you do have the opportunity to make a choice, it makes it all the more important.  Who your allegiances are, what favors you can do…and collect from, when and when not to take a stand…these are the things that define you in here.  It doesn’t matter who you were on the outside because that person might as well be dead and gone.  That person has no place here.  Here you just have to survive and beyond all else….

Trust.  No one.

I can’t even begin to list the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done that would have horrified me on the outside.  But that will drive you crazy, trying to make parallels between lockup and the rest of the world.  This isn’t part of the world.  This is another reality where only the strong survive.  It’s as cutthroat as anything in the animal kingdom and maybe that’s all we are now.  Animals.

Rest flat on the ground for a moment and feel the burn in my arms and pain in my ribs as I breathe deeper.  Roll to my back on the floor and maybe I shouldn’t have pushed it so soon.  I did spend the night in the infirmary two, maybe three nights ago?  Took a hell of a beating but at least I know I took all three down with me.  Part of me still wonders if I made the right choice, but any excuse to pound Rodriguez’s face can’t be too wrong.  Close my eyes, not that it makes much difference, and think back to what landed me in the “hole.” 

Fresh meat always turns everyone’s head.  New, scared, and completely disoriented, they make the perfect prey.  Whether you just wanna take anything they have, kick some ass or make yourself a new bitch, they’re prime for the taking.  It used to be disturbing, the sound of their screams crying out in vain for help that never came.  But you can’t help them all.  You wouldn’t even want to.  Some just aren’t strong enough to survive and helping them just prolongs the inevitable…not to mention gains you a fucking shadow. 

I don’t need complications.  That’s why I almost walked away when I heard the scuffle in the bathroom.  It was the raised shouts in Spanish that actually drew my attention.  I’ve had my own run-ins with that “gang” more than once so I decided to see what, or who, had them so excited.  I swear it was like seeing a pack of scavengers the way they circled him, bending him over the sink and pinning him down...and I still almost walked away.  Oh, I don’t approve of gang rape.  Not like that.  But there’s only so much you can do….

It was the look in his ice blue eyes reflected back at me through the mirror that caught my attention.  He wasn’t weak.  He was a fighter as evidenced by his bruised jaw and bloodied knuckles.  But there were too many and they jumped him I’m sure.  I watched him struggle only a moment, searching his eyes from my hidden vantage point.  He could be strong enough to stand on his own.  I could see it.  So I made my decision and didn’t look back.

Scrub my hand over my face and gingerly crawl back up on the cot as every ache and pain reminds me of what happened next.  The skinny ass redhead must have been assigned cleaning duty, at least that’s what the discarded mop made it look like.  It made the perfect weapon.  Took me less than a minute to unscrew the handle and bring it down across the back of the one about to strip Red of his jailhouse virginity.   The rest was more of a blur as I took on all three at once.  I was the last one standing, even if I was barely still on my feet.

The crazy part is now the only thing I really remember before being carted away by the guards was the look on his face.  His eyes were wide and he had his arms wrapped around him to hold his torn orange jumpsuit closed.  He was terrified.  And now that I think about it, I wonder if he was more scared of them or me.  I think he was afraid I was gonna end up bending him over right there and taking my turn with him.  But that’s what he didn’t understand.  That’s not how I work.  I’m not a rapist.  But he does owe me.

I could hear them coming as I stared directly into his eyes and told him loud enough for Rodriguez’s crew to hear me clearly, “You’re mine now, Red,” and that should buy him a little time.  At least until I get out of here.  And then I can find out if he really was worth my time.  Either way, the promise is made. 

He’s mine.  Until I decide he isn’t.

He just better not turn out to be a fucking, useless, shadow.

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Catw00man - catw00man@cryptoffic.com