Abyss (R) (Smash) PART 9
Title: Abyss
Author: blackpoetcat
Rating: R
Character: Derek Wills
Disclaimer: NBC owns all, just playing drama with
Summary: Everyone knows he doesn't give a shit about anything but the show. So when Derek's life capsizes, will anyone give a shit about him?
( Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8)
Though Derek did eat at least some of the dinner -- which actually turned out to be not that bad at all -- it was not because he had been hungry, despite the fact that he hadn't had a decent meal in two days. It was just a rational decision to stay in fair condition. Nevertheless, he was deeply exhausted, if only mentally, and so finally got his first night of sound sleep since he learned of Tracy's death.
After the wake-up call they were led in groups of ten to the showers, granted a period of time that felt like less than five minutes including undressing and redressing, and shepherded back. But Derek was grateful enough to shower at all, even only briefly and with some cheap kind of liquid soap he wouldn't touch with gloves under normal circumstances.
Breakfast was a bit more tolerable than dinner, but afterwards, Derek started feeling bored and restless. He simply was not used to sitting around without any kind of occupation. The book trolley was not due for a few hours, O'Shaugn told him on his way back from the showers. What time Bellamy would arrive with the toiletries and writing stuff he had no clue, so he started to pace his cell, if somewhat more slowly than the last time.
"Hey, Brit! Stop that. You're making me nervous." The black man who occupied the cell across the corridor addressed him.
Abruptly, Derek came to a halt and looked at the man, a sharp retort already on his lips; but he swallowed it, for the open face didn't seem to mean any spite or harm. For a few moments Derek contemplated whether he should get involved with anyone here at all. But the thought of having absolutely no one to talk to for weeks or even months -- except Bellamy and O'Shaugn, when he was on duty and had some time -- drove him to change his mind.
"Since I already am nervous, how about you help me to calm down and I stop walking?" he suggested, somewhat uncertain if this was the right way to deal with inmates.
"Seems fair to me." The other man grinned. "So, let's start with introductions. I'm Kevin."
"Derek."
"Okay, Derek. Nice to meet you," Kevin replied, and though it seemed surreal to Derek to discover civil manners in a place like this, his impression grew that this man was not any common scoundrel. So he decided to treat him with the same respect as the officers -- at least as long as he was sure he wasn't befriending a murderer or rapist or something equally heinous.
"Nice to meet you, too, Kevin. May I ask why you are here?" he inquired carefully.
"Of course you may. Secrets don't last long around here anyway. I punched a man who insulted my wife. Unfortunately, he crashed through a store window and was injured badly by the glass," Kevin explained and sighed, shaking his head. "Didn't want that, just wanted to teach him a lesson. But it happened and so I'm charged with aggravated assault, and on top of that, lost my job."
"Oh." With a sigh of his own Derek leaned on the bars and ran his hand through his hair. Not only was he surprised to feel sorry for Kevin, but he actually empathized with him. To tell the truth, he knew exactly how his fellow inmate felt right now.
"My sympathies. I was fired yesterday, too."
As he heard himself speak the words, Derek realized that he was sharing his own personal catastrophe with a complete stranger. He stiffened, didn't have the heart to look at Kevin anymore. What the hell had he been thinking? Now he would not only lose any respect he might have had, but become the laughingstock of the Boston County Jail. The great Derek Wills -- fired like any untalented flop! He didn't dare to imagine the tone of the headlines which were most likely broadcasting the news today.
"I'm sorry, mate." Kevin's voice reached his ears. No mocking, no malice could be heard in his words, so Derek finally raised his head and carefully gazed at Kevin again. Still he read only sorrow and sympathy in the dark eyes and out of relief he managed to produce a small smile.
"Thanks."
"Well, it seems you'll be here for a while, too. What's your charge?"
Of course Kevin would ask. Derek should have known. Yet he still was more than uncomfortable with speaking about the horrible nightmare into which he had manoeuvred himself. But he also refused to break up a newly-formed contact which would probably be the only one he could have for a long time. Nevertheless he had to fight his very own demons of arrogance and bitterness before he was able, eventually, to answer.
"Involuntary manslaughter."
His voice sounded hoarse and he wasn't even sure he spoke loudly enough for Kevin to understand, but when he observed how the black man's eyes widened, he had no doubt about that anymore.
"Damn. How the hell did that happen?" Kevin inquired. "Aside from your outburst yesterday, you don't seem the violent type to me."
Derek snorted.
"If I really am responsible for the girl's death, it was an accident; but I don't know. I was drunk and had a black-out," he confessed. "I don't remember anything. I don't even know if I have an alibi or not."
"God, that's a really bad situation, particularly for a man of your kind. You're quite a character, if I may say so."
"You may say as you like, Kevin," Derek replied with a bitter smile. "I lost my freedom, my job -- and certainly every last bit of reputation and respect I ever had out there. Why should I give a damn about what people might think anymore? Especially when I never cared before..."
Though he knew the instant he finished the sentence that he probably had insulted Kevin, despite sympathy and the need for someone to talk to, he didn't break eye contact or make an attempt to apologize. But to his relief Kevin seemed to understand his mood.
"Relax, Derek," Kevin suggested. "It takes a few days to adapt to jail routine and come to terms with the charge, but it will be easier to live with. At least until trial. I'm still afraid of what kind of sentence I'll get and whether my wife can cope with the outcome and stay by my side."
"She should. After all, you punched that bloke on her behalf," Derek said. "But if you ask me, I wouldn't count on her. Women are all alike. One day, they adore you, second day they sleep with you, and from the third day on they cling to you as if their life would crash the very moment they let go. But as soon as you are honest enough to tell them you don't like anyone attached to you like a limpet, they get spiteful and yell and call you a liar, or worse -- and do something incredibly stupid to ruin everything. No, Kevin. Better count on her leaving. And if she actually stays, you will be at least positively surprised."
Silence enveloped the whole corridor and it was at that moment Derek became aware that not only Kevin, but almost every prisoner in hearing range had listened to their conversation. He swallowed and cleared his throat out of an unfamiliar sensation of embarrassment, ready to defend his personal opinion about relationships with women -- but a few sounds of laughter and cheeky remarks from other prisoners eased him up.
"Seems you have a lot of experience," Kevin chuckled. "But thanks; I think I'll go on trusting her as long as I don't learn of any reason not to."
"Dig your own grave, but don't come complaining when she's gone," Derek replied and felt at least a little bit relaxed for the first time since he had been arrested. Maybe it wasn't so bad to get involved with imprisoned people after all.
Continued in Part 10
Author: blackpoetcat
Rating: R
Character: Derek Wills
Disclaimer: NBC owns all, just playing drama with
Summary: Everyone knows he doesn't give a shit about anything but the show. So when Derek's life capsizes, will anyone give a shit about him?
( Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8)
Though Derek did eat at least some of the dinner -- which actually turned out to be not that bad at all -- it was not because he had been hungry, despite the fact that he hadn't had a decent meal in two days. It was just a rational decision to stay in fair condition. Nevertheless, he was deeply exhausted, if only mentally, and so finally got his first night of sound sleep since he learned of Tracy's death.
After the wake-up call they were led in groups of ten to the showers, granted a period of time that felt like less than five minutes including undressing and redressing, and shepherded back. But Derek was grateful enough to shower at all, even only briefly and with some cheap kind of liquid soap he wouldn't touch with gloves under normal circumstances.
Breakfast was a bit more tolerable than dinner, but afterwards, Derek started feeling bored and restless. He simply was not used to sitting around without any kind of occupation. The book trolley was not due for a few hours, O'Shaugn told him on his way back from the showers. What time Bellamy would arrive with the toiletries and writing stuff he had no clue, so he started to pace his cell, if somewhat more slowly than the last time.
"Hey, Brit! Stop that. You're making me nervous." The black man who occupied the cell across the corridor addressed him.
Abruptly, Derek came to a halt and looked at the man, a sharp retort already on his lips; but he swallowed it, for the open face didn't seem to mean any spite or harm. For a few moments Derek contemplated whether he should get involved with anyone here at all. But the thought of having absolutely no one to talk to for weeks or even months -- except Bellamy and O'Shaugn, when he was on duty and had some time -- drove him to change his mind.
"Since I already am nervous, how about you help me to calm down and I stop walking?" he suggested, somewhat uncertain if this was the right way to deal with inmates.
"Seems fair to me." The other man grinned. "So, let's start with introductions. I'm Kevin."
"Derek."
"Okay, Derek. Nice to meet you," Kevin replied, and though it seemed surreal to Derek to discover civil manners in a place like this, his impression grew that this man was not any common scoundrel. So he decided to treat him with the same respect as the officers -- at least as long as he was sure he wasn't befriending a murderer or rapist or something equally heinous.
"Nice to meet you, too, Kevin. May I ask why you are here?" he inquired carefully.
"Of course you may. Secrets don't last long around here anyway. I punched a man who insulted my wife. Unfortunately, he crashed through a store window and was injured badly by the glass," Kevin explained and sighed, shaking his head. "Didn't want that, just wanted to teach him a lesson. But it happened and so I'm charged with aggravated assault, and on top of that, lost my job."
"Oh." With a sigh of his own Derek leaned on the bars and ran his hand through his hair. Not only was he surprised to feel sorry for Kevin, but he actually empathized with him. To tell the truth, he knew exactly how his fellow inmate felt right now.
"My sympathies. I was fired yesterday, too."
As he heard himself speak the words, Derek realized that he was sharing his own personal catastrophe with a complete stranger. He stiffened, didn't have the heart to look at Kevin anymore. What the hell had he been thinking? Now he would not only lose any respect he might have had, but become the laughingstock of the Boston County Jail. The great Derek Wills -- fired like any untalented flop! He didn't dare to imagine the tone of the headlines which were most likely broadcasting the news today.
"I'm sorry, mate." Kevin's voice reached his ears. No mocking, no malice could be heard in his words, so Derek finally raised his head and carefully gazed at Kevin again. Still he read only sorrow and sympathy in the dark eyes and out of relief he managed to produce a small smile.
"Thanks."
"Well, it seems you'll be here for a while, too. What's your charge?"
Of course Kevin would ask. Derek should have known. Yet he still was more than uncomfortable with speaking about the horrible nightmare into which he had manoeuvred himself. But he also refused to break up a newly-formed contact which would probably be the only one he could have for a long time. Nevertheless he had to fight his very own demons of arrogance and bitterness before he was able, eventually, to answer.
"Involuntary manslaughter."
His voice sounded hoarse and he wasn't even sure he spoke loudly enough for Kevin to understand, but when he observed how the black man's eyes widened, he had no doubt about that anymore.
"Damn. How the hell did that happen?" Kevin inquired. "Aside from your outburst yesterday, you don't seem the violent type to me."
Derek snorted.
"If I really am responsible for the girl's death, it was an accident; but I don't know. I was drunk and had a black-out," he confessed. "I don't remember anything. I don't even know if I have an alibi or not."
"God, that's a really bad situation, particularly for a man of your kind. You're quite a character, if I may say so."
"You may say as you like, Kevin," Derek replied with a bitter smile. "I lost my freedom, my job -- and certainly every last bit of reputation and respect I ever had out there. Why should I give a damn about what people might think anymore? Especially when I never cared before..."
Though he knew the instant he finished the sentence that he probably had insulted Kevin, despite sympathy and the need for someone to talk to, he didn't break eye contact or make an attempt to apologize. But to his relief Kevin seemed to understand his mood.
"Relax, Derek," Kevin suggested. "It takes a few days to adapt to jail routine and come to terms with the charge, but it will be easier to live with. At least until trial. I'm still afraid of what kind of sentence I'll get and whether my wife can cope with the outcome and stay by my side."
"She should. After all, you punched that bloke on her behalf," Derek said. "But if you ask me, I wouldn't count on her. Women are all alike. One day, they adore you, second day they sleep with you, and from the third day on they cling to you as if their life would crash the very moment they let go. But as soon as you are honest enough to tell them you don't like anyone attached to you like a limpet, they get spiteful and yell and call you a liar, or worse -- and do something incredibly stupid to ruin everything. No, Kevin. Better count on her leaving. And if she actually stays, you will be at least positively surprised."
Silence enveloped the whole corridor and it was at that moment Derek became aware that not only Kevin, but almost every prisoner in hearing range had listened to their conversation. He swallowed and cleared his throat out of an unfamiliar sensation of embarrassment, ready to defend his personal opinion about relationships with women -- but a few sounds of laughter and cheeky remarks from other prisoners eased him up.
"Seems you have a lot of experience," Kevin chuckled. "But thanks; I think I'll go on trusting her as long as I don't learn of any reason not to."
"Dig your own grave, but don't come complaining when she's gone," Derek replied and felt at least a little bit relaxed for the first time since he had been arrested. Maybe it wasn't so bad to get involved with imprisoned people after all.
Continued in Part 10