start a fight [muke af]

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xxxii

Ashton pulled on the back of Luke's shirt, dragging him away from his unit.

"Hey, hey, chill, I can walk," Luke said, trying to free himself from Ashton's grip.

"Don't tell me to chill," he responded, letting go of his worker, "Your lovebird is refusing to talk to anyone except for you."

Luke rolled his eyes, "I told you not to call him that, it makes me—."

"I don't fucking care if I hurt your feelings, Hemmings, I have a prison to run," he spat. Ashton unlocked the gates leading down the corridors, taking his officer to isolation where Michael sat once again. "This dude has so little time left in here, I need him to behave."

"I don't understand how this involves me, Sir."

Ash stopped in his tracks, causing Luke to run into his broad back. He turned around, glaring at the blue-eyed boy. "Because he will only talk to you. We can't medicate him without a consent and he won't give us an okay. He's legal, we can't go calling his mother."

Luke looked down at his feet, suddenly ashamed of himself. He knew he should have stayed quiet, just did what Ashton told him to do. "Sorry, Sir."

"Let's go," he growled, a sigh mixed in between.

Luke followed him, silently this time. He got comfortable with Ashton after being there for half a year, today though, he was scared again. Ashton was his boss, and Luke forgot that sometimes.

They got outside of the isolation rooms, Ashton barging in. He watch Luke step in, closing the door behind both of them.

"There, Luke is here." Ashton was obviously annoyed, he's been dealing with Michael throughout the night then into the morning. Sergeant would definitely be giving himself a day off soon.

"I want you gone," Michael said, not lifting his head up from staring at the ground.

"I didn't really wanna be here in the first place, Clifford," Ashton commented. He slid his ID card through the slot, letting himself out.

Luke was left alone in the silent room with the infamous Clifford once more. All the papers were filled out by the night shift and laying flat on the metal desk. Luke sat in the uncomfortable seat, looking over the papers.

He expected a fight, not a breakdown. The papers made it clear that they thought Michael was a danger to himself and the entire unit. Luke looked up from the papers, seeing Michael look so weak in front of him.

"What's up, Bud?" Luke asked, placing the papers face down.

Michael shrugged, squeezing his fists together. "It's getting to me."

"What's getting to you?" Luke knew that the cameras were watching them, he knew someone was listening to every single breath they took, every single word they said. There was no privacy in prison.

"This place."

"Every day is closer to your release, though."

He wiped at his running nose, rubbing over his eyes next. "That scares me. What's it like out there?"

"It's pretty good out there, Michael. There's so much to do, so much to see. Much better than being in here, I assure you that."

Michael liked the way Luke spoke. He was so calm, so friendly. He made Mike feel although nothing was his fault, ever. "I killed my father," he admitted. Those words haven't left his lips since court.

"It was self-defense, though. I've been through your file, I know you didn't just go around killing people." Luke stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles over one another. He crossed his arms over his chest, his head leaning against the cement wall. He watched Michael react to his words, his shoulders falling in comfort.

"He used to hurt my mom and I, all the time, in every way. And, in court, Mom had the nerve to cry over his death. I did it for her, and she still stayed on his side. That's awful, Luke, it's awful." Michael looked up, his green eyes glassed over with tears. "I never wanted to see my mom cry again, and I thought getting rid of him would end the tears."

"Stuff happens," he answered, not sure what else to say. "You were protecting your mother, you love her endlessly. I get that, I really do."

"I'm a Mama's Boy, just like you," Michael laughed through his cries, "I fucking hate that. I hate all of this, I've hated my entire life for the last three decades."

"But, think of the next ten years, yeah? You and your mom are together again, you don't have anything else to worry about. You're going to be free, you're going to finally live your life the way you were meant to." Luke wanted to uncuff Michael's hands, he felt bad watching the man cry and barely be able to wipe his eyes.

"Mom didn't talk to me for a solid year. I was alone in here with absolutely no one and it sucked." He heaved in a breath, moving around to curl himself against the opposite wall of Luke. "She started talking to me again, and I still felt awful. This place is awful. It's worse than living with him."

"He's not here anymore. I don't think killing anything is ever a good answer, but you can't change the past. It happened, there's nothing you can do about it now."

"I hate you," Michael said, "I really do."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Luke said, his heart dropping against the ground, "I think you're pretty cool."

"You're perfect," he sighed, "In every single way."

"Mike—."

"I hate that you're perfect, and I hate that I can't have you."

Luke stayed quiet, not responding to the inmate. "Three months," he whispered.

Michael looked up at him, hope instead of pain in his eyes. "What?"

"You get released in three months." Luke failed to hide the smile on his face. "Let's see where we are in three months."