No Such Thing As Perfect

Jade

Tears that glistened like gold weaved down Raine's cheeks, mixing with dark streaks of blood. Pain and fear filled her eyes, and he forced himself to look away. He couldn't see her like this. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. He was a traitor, a coward.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Jade's eyes opened and he raised his hands to shield his eyes from the harsh fluorescent light. He had been dreaming again. Not simply dreaming, but remembering.

Coward.

Slowly he lifted himself off of the bed. His muscles screamed, and he recalled how agonizing it had been to lie down the night before. He inhaled a deep breath, grimaced at the pain in his chest. Gripping the hem of his blood-stained shirt, he pulled up the fabric to check the damage. A bruise stretched across his chest, dark purple and hideous. He gritted his teeth and pressed his fingers to his ribs. Remarkably, they were unbroken.

He took a step closer to the door. Stumbled. His hands scraped against the chipped concrete, breaking his fall.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

Reaching out with a scuffed first, he pounded out two knocks on the thick metal door. Then he curled in on himself, wrapping his arms over his chest. Deep breath. Cough. Deep breath. He could feel the mucus settling in his lungs. His chest hurt, but he'd rather breathe painfully than add pneumonia to his list of maladies.

The door swung open, missing him by inches. Boots thudded against the floor and he flinched as strong arms dragged him to his feet. He found his balance, shook the guard's grip from his shoulders.

"I can walk by myself, old man," he growled.

"Call me old man again and I'll call in that favor Wiles owes me." The guard shoved a bundle of fresh clothes into Jade's hands. "I'll tell him to break your jaw instead of just bruising it like he did this time. Teach you not to mouth off."

Jade touched his fingers to his jaw. It had swelled a little overnight, still sore. Wiles could throw a mean right hook.

"What's that smile for?"

"I don't think your director would enjoy trying to get answers from someone with a broken jaw." His voice dripped with contempt and a false tone of fearlessness. "Would she, old man?"

He expected the guard to backhand him. Instead he received only a cold glare. He knew that look well. The face of a man plotting revenge. It usually involved a fist, but Jade was used to that. He didn't care anymore.

They stared each other down for a moment longer, then he motioned to the hallway.

"Shall we?"

The showers were empty. The other inmates had either come and gone or were still resting in their cells. There were no clocks so for all Jade knew, it could be four in the morning and he had been the first to awaken. Nightmares didn't care how early it was.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

He reached for the knob on the wall. There wasn't Hot or Cold, just a spidery scrawl carved into the concrete by an anonymous inmate: good luck. Some days, the water was freezing. Other days, it felt like Mordor. The showerhead sputtered for a moment, then water flooded out. Jade hissed and fisted his hands as the hot water came in contact with the fresh cuts on his bare skin. The handcuff connecting his left wrist to one of the bars on the shower wall rattled and a memory surfaced. He shut his eyes tight. The pain made him want to snap.

"You're lucky I don't ruin you for what you almost allowed to happen," the spider had screeched. Jade remembered how the man who had been scheduled to stand guard while he showered had stood completely still as she spat profanities and threats at him. His face was grim, but there was fear in his eyes. Being superfluous wasn't a good thing, especially in a place like this.

Jade could see and hear the ordeal through the glass window that separated his room from the rest of the infirmary. He had eventually closed his eyes, waiting for the painkillers to kick in so that his swollen throat would stop hurting.

"Two minutes." The guard's gravely voice called through the curtain.

Jade grabbed the bar of soap. It stung, but he scrubbed it across his skin anyway. Sweat and grime and caked blood washed down the drain.

The curtain shook, hooks rattling on the metal bar. "Still alive in there?"

It wasn't a joke.

"Would you be disappointed if I said yes?"

The guard grunted from the other side of the curtain. A wry smile crossed Jade's face. It had been months before the spider allowed him to do anything without a guard breathing down his neck, watching his every move. The next time he was escorted to the showers, he found the vinyl curtain had been removed. He'd quickly become accustomed to showering in shorts. Several months after the incident, the spider had reluctantly allowed the curtain to be replaced. Jade hadn't bothered to ask how long it would take for her to trust him with a bedsheet in his cell again.

Even now he still remembered the feel of the ripped fabric around his neck, how it had cut off the air from his lungs. He remembered most of the incident like that, in little details. The muffled sound of a guard shouting at him. The shower curtain being jerked away. Hands frantically tearing away the sheet around his neck, and oxygen being dragged into his lungs again. He had lost consciousness mere seconds after the guard had rescued him, and awakened in the infirmary.

Rescued. Was it still a rescue if he didn't want to be saved?

The last bit of soap was swept down the drain and Jade turned off the water. He stood there for a long moment, listening to the painful drag of his breathing and the echoing droplets of water falling around his feet. Touching a hand to his forehead, he ran his fingers gently along the scar. Then he smoothed his hair to cover it.

Three years. It felt like an eternity and yet, somehow, only a day.

He heaved a sigh.

"Alright, old man. You can take the handcuffs off now."