x-posted

Dec 21, 2005 16:59

And I'm back in the game! Inspiration struck me and so I bring you prison-y Christmas cheer.

Title: Maytag's Christmas Miracle
Character: T-bag
Prompt: 94. Celebrate
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Maytag's got the holiday blues.
Author's Note: T-bag/Maytag, a tad fluffy, but hopefully still in character.



Jason had always loved Christmas.

It was the one time of year when he was truly happy. Every year, on Christmas day, he and his mother would go over to his grandparent’s for dinner. They were his dad’s parents, his real dad, and they loved having him and his mother over. His stepdad was always welcome as well, but he never came. And Jason was glad. Lying there at night, tucked into the top bunk of the little wooden bunk beds his grandfather had built for his dad and his uncle, he’d drift off to sleep peacefully, knowing that no one was going to come into his room in the middle of the night.

His stepdad hated when they went. His mom always begged him to come, especially after Calli was born, but he never did. Jason didn’t understand why, his grandparents had always been welcoming to George, after all it wasn’t his fault that Jason’s dad died, but still, he was grateful. It was his one night away from the monster and he certainly appreciated it. Which was why Christmas became such a treasured holiday. He soon came to love everything associated with it.

Calli stopped going after a few years after George had taken it upon himself to haul her over to his parent’s place for Christmas day and the next year Patrick joined them. Soon his mom stopped going too. She asked Jason to come with them to George’s parent’s, but he refused. He told her that Grandma and Grandpa would miss him and be so lonely without anyone to come over and visit with them on Christmas. “Just let him go, mommy,” Calli had said, sticking out her tongue, then saying, “Granny and Grandad give way more presents anyway. And there’ll just be more for me an’ Patrick.” Jason had resisted the urge to punch her in her smart mouth. But he didn’t dare do anything that would ruin his chances of staying over at his grandparent’s and with a sigh his mother had relented.

So every year, on Christmas day, Jason went to visit them. Even after his grandpa died and his grandma moved into a little condo, he still came. Christmas just wouldn’t be the same without that annual visit.

And now he was stuck in a cold, dark cell with a murderer sleeping on the bunk below him and it was only three days till Christmas. He thought about his poor grandmother, sitting all alone at her kitchen table, no one to help her decorate her house, no one to come for Christmas dinner. He closed his eyes and imagined that he was back at his grandparent’s old house. The snores below him were his brother and any minute his grandma would come in and put an extra blanket on him.

“What is with you, boy?” T-bag asked as they sat shivering outside on the bleachers. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, the left one sliding over Maytag’s. “You look like somebody killed your dog.” He chuckled a bit at the thought, he’d killed many a people’s beloved pets as a child.

“S’nothing,” Maytag muttered, looking out at the frost covered lawn.

It wasn’t even snowing, at least then it would look a little Christmas-y. It was torture for it to be so cold and yet not even any snow.

“Ah, the holidays,” T-bag mused, “Always such a depressing time to be incarcerated.” He nodded at some of the inmates. “Most guys in here are walkin’ around like it’s the end of the world or somethin’. Me? I see it as just another day.”

Maytag didn’t say anything and T-bag grinned.

“Aw, don’t tell me you’re sad about being all alone on C-C-Christmas…” T-bag exclaimed, sticking out his lower lip in a mocking pout.

Maytag just glared at him.

“You are,” he said, then laughed, “You know you keep acting like that and you ain’t never gonna make it to the end of your stint, boy.”

He patted Maytag on the shoulder, then stood up, still chuckling. “Freshmen…” he muttered.

It was Christmas Eve and Maytag couldn’t have been any more miserable. He had nothing to look forward to tomorrow. No presents, no turkey dinner, not even a candy cane. Better just take T-bag’s advice and think of it as just another day. Still, he couldn’t get the image of his grandmother all alone out of his head. He felt the pangs of guilt and he shut his eyes tight as he lay under the thin prison issued blanket, his teeth chattering. Just another day.

“Wake up sleepy-head, it’s Christmas morning.”

The cheery voice roused Maytag from his sleep.

“Mom?” he asked as he blinked blearily.

“What did you just say?”

Maytag rubbed his eyes and found T-bag’s face staring back at him. The killer was standing on the edge of his bunk, looming over Maytag menacingly.

“Um…what did you say?” Maytag asked quietly.

T-bag hopped away from the bunk. “I said ‘get the fuck up, it’s almost time for count’,” he replied.

“Right,” Maytag said as he heard the doors of the cell clang open.

“Buchanan, get your ass out here,” Geary said as he approached the cell, “You got a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Maytag asked, “Who?”

“How the fuck should I know? Now you comin’ or not?” Geary replied irritated.

Christmas cheer indeed. Maytag shrugged and hopped off his bunk, before following Geary outside.

He felt his heart warm when he reached visitation. There was his grandma, sitting there in her Christmas best, a little smile on her face. He sat down at the table across from her and beamed.

“You came,” he said, in awe.

“It’s tradition,” she replied.

He looked away from her, his smile fading now. “I didn’t want you to have to see me here.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Jason,” she said, “You’re still my grandson. And I still love you. And nothing’s gonna keep me from seeing you on Christmas like I always have. Not even this place.”

Jason looked up at her. “I’m glad you came. Merry Christmas, grandma.”

“Merry Christmas, dear.”

“You have fun on your little visit?” T-bag asked when Maytag returned to their cell.

He was lying on the top bunk, Maytag’s bunk, reading a magazine. Maytag could have sworn he almost sounded hurt.

“Yeah, it was nice,” he said, leaning against the wall.

He knew better than to sit on T-bag’s bunk without permission.

“Who was it that came to see ya?”

“My grandma. We always uh, well…I used to go to her place on Christmas day.”

He looked down at the ground. He hated talking about family after he’d heard the rumours about T-bag’s. It always made him feel guilty.

“You’re really into this whole Christmas celebration, aren’t you?” T-bag asked as he hopped off the bunk.

“Yeah. I guess. Why?”

“Well I just happen to have something for you.” T-bag reached into his pocket and held up a little sprig of mistletoe. Maytag was amazed. He wondered how the hell T-bag had ever acquired it. “Now you know what the tradition is with mistletoe, right?”

Maytag leaned forward, but T-bag pushed him away.

“I meant the X rated version,” T-bag said, grinning, as he pulled down his pants, still holding the mistletoe over Maytag’s head.

“Hey T-bag, hang a fucking sheet, why don’t you?!” a con yelled from across the way.

“Shut your fat mouth, fuckface!” they heard Trokey yell from the cell next to theirs.

“Yeah, easy for you to say, you don’t have to look at it, snowflake!” C-Note called back.

“Shut the fuck up!” another con yelled from down the block and soon the whole place was filled with the sound of inmates yelling at each other.

Maytag just rolled his eyes. “Merry Christmas,” he said.

T-bag laughed, then he looked over at the little window at the top of their cell.

“Is it…snowing?” he asked.

He pulled up his pants as both of them walked over to the window. T-bag stood on the chair as he peered out, looking at the falling flakes of white with disgust.

“I don’t believe it,” he muttered, hopping down and going over to the door to hang a sheet, then he added sarcastically, “It’s a fucking Christmas miracle.”

Maytag just stared out the window happily. It hadn’t been the best Christmas, not by a long shot, but at least it was something.

“What are you smiling about, boy?” T-bag asked as he smacked Maytag upside the head and pulled down his pants again, “Get to work!”

“God bless us, everyone,” Maytag thought and he smiled as he got down on his knees.

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