start a fight [muke af]

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xxix

It was the beginning of March, Luke has been back in Unit 2 for a little over a week. It was weird for Luke to be completely alone on his shift once again. There were always other officers working other units, but he was the only one in his unit now.

There'd be rookies at time with him, watching over what he does and helping out when needed. If there was another fight in another unit, Luke would go help out while a rookie watches over his unit.

It was nice not to be the rookie anymore.

There wasn't a single fight for nine days. There were some pushing, a little bit of shoving. There was shouting, there was threatening. But, there was no fighting.

The infamous Clifford broke that on the ninth day with his great buddy Barakat.

Barakat and Clifford were something special, they were something different. They were friends, but they fought a lot. They enjoyed fighting. The tiniest things would set them off, and they'd be throwing fists into each others guts.

The next day, they'd be fine. They'd be playing chess and making penis jokes.

Luke got involved first, other officers from units coming in to break it apart. It was in the middle of the lunch area, so there were many officers on patrol.

Luke pushed Michael back, but Michael pushed back harder. He got to Jack once more, brushing his knuckles upon the other boys jawline.

Luke used the very little muscle he seemed to have to push Michael further back, he kept shoving him until the older boy's back crashed into the cement walls. Mike was heaving, his face red and his eyes dark.

The blonde kept his elbows bent and locked against Mike's chest. Michael's struggling only hurt Mike more and more.

"I thought you weren't going to fight," Luke said, his voice raised.

"I'm going to fucking kill everyone."

"Don't say that, it'll get you in more trouble than you're already in." Luke raised his hands up, afraid that he was depriving Michael of his own breathing. He watched Michael's shoulders collapse down as his green eyes continued to look behind Luke, his eyebrows furrowed in anger. "Michael, stop trying to fight him."

"I want out of this fucking place," his hoarse voice said.

Luke put his hands on Michael's jaw, harshly turning his face until he looked at Luke. "You need to calm down, right now, Michael. We can talk about it later, you need to calm down." Luke kept his legs apart, keeping his balance steady against Michael. Michael was smaller than him, but wider and much more muscular than him.

"I hate being in here, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!" He yelled, causing Luke's ears to ring.

Luke kept his hands on Michael's jaw, forcing the older man to look Luke in the eyes as he threw a fit. "The more you fight, the more time you get."

Michael tried to wiggle out from Luke's grasp, but the blonde only held him tighter.

"I want to go home, jail is not home. This is not home. I don't want to be here."

"Let's go talk to the psychologist, yeah? We can go spend some time alone and talk it through."

Mike tried to push him off again, only causing Luke to move his hands down to Mike's shoulders and push him tighter against the wall. "Just get me out of here." Michael's eyes glassed over as he stopped fighting against Luke's grip. "I hate it here."

Luke wanted to comfort Michael but he couldn't do that. They were standing at the edge of their main area, Luke still pinning Michael against the wall, Michael still heaving breaths and eyes darting behind Luke's head.

"I need to cuff you up, Michael. Okay?" Luke wasn't used to asking an inmate that.

Mike brought his hands in front of him, allowing Luke to take a step back. The blonde held Michael's wrists tight, locking his hands together.
"We're gonna go downstairs, talk it out a bit more, yeah? We'll get the therapist you like in there, too, and—."

Michael shook his head. "Just you and me," he said, "I just want you and me."

Luke nodded, knowing it wasn't time to argue with him. He started to lead him down the corridors, making sure Barakat was already in a private cell.

They got to the familiar isolations room, Luke letting Michael walk in first. The blonde grabbed the paperwork by the door, following Mike in and waiting for the click of the many locks.

Michael sat down on the metal slate that would be his bed for the next twenty-four hours. His bruised fingers gripped the edge, the pain of bending his fingers made him jump, but not enough to stop his action.

"Are you bleeding?" Luke asked, filling out the top of the packet.

"No."

"Bruised?"

"Yeah."

"Need medical attention?"

"No."

Luke moved to the next column, filling out personal information about Michael. He seemed to have had his ID and such memorized by how many times he has had to do this. The blonde took quick glances up at Michael, making sure he wasn't trying to start anything up.

The older man was looking up at the fluorescent lights, watching one of them flicker a few times. His eyes were still glassy, a dark green hue lining them. His lips were chapped and his cheeks were red. He wiped at his nose, trying to pretend he wasn't about to cry.

Sometimes Michael's mind is a few steps ahead of him.

"I'm really supposed to bring in a therapist or your psychologist when it comes to stuff like this, especially out of the blue," Luke said, trying to get comfortable in the metal chair.

"I know."

"Can I call them down here?"

"Whatever."

"I don't want to make you upset or—."

"Whatever," Michael said again, this time more stern.

Luke knew that their conversation was over. He folded up the packet and gave him a warming smile. Michael didn't look up. "I'll be back in about five."

Luke didn't come back alone. Michael wanted him and only him.