Dog Pound

•2•

"Lights out!"

It's nine o'clock on the dot. The CO turns out the lights and watches as the boys groan and climb into their separate bunks. Patrick kicks his shoes off and climbs into bed but he's not tired in the slightest, the only choice he has is to lie awake until he's able to clock out.

The other boys easily turn over and fall asleep while Patrick is still lying awake, staring at the bottom of the top bunk and listening to the others as they toss, turn and snore. To his right, he notices that his fellow inmate is fidgeting, the one he'd sat with at dinner. He's thrashing, groaning and muttering something Patrick doesn't understand. He's sweating and panting like he's unable to breathe. He jumps up out of his sleep, sitting up straight, breathing heavily and making sounds like he's about to vomit. He runs his fingers through his slightly damp hair and looks over, seeing that Patrick is watching him worriedly.

The boy takes a few deep breaths until he's able to breathe somewhat normally again. "How much did you see?" He whispers.

"Enough." Patrick whispers back.

The boy grimaces like he's going to be sick then tosses his covers aside, getting out of bed and heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" Patrick sits up on his elbows as the boy grabs the handle. He looks back at Patrick but doesn't give him an answer, opening the door and looking both ways as to watch for any guards then he exits, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Patrick climbs out of bed and follows him, far enough so he won't know that Patrick is there. He watches as the boy cautiously disappears around a corner and Patrick tiptoes after him until he sees him open a door and go inside, specifically the door to the locker room. Patrick quietly walks down and enters the room, surprised that the heavy door doesn't creak, and allows the door to silently click shut behind him.

Stifled sobs echo through the empty room, pointing Patrick in the direction of the showers where he sees nothing but the silhouette of someone sitting in the corner and hugging their knees.

"Hey," Patrick whispers into the darkness. "you okay?"

The shadow lifts its head and is quiet for a moment, then says, "What the hell are you doing in here?"

Patrick takes a hesitant step. "I just thought, maybe, you needed-"

"Needed what?" The boy interrupts, speaking in a fit of anger. "A friend to pat me on the back and make me feel better?"

Patrick shrugs because he doesn't know what the boy needs exactly.

The boy scoffs then wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "There's no such thing as friends in here. Loneliness is my only friend."

Patrick walks over and takes a seat against the shower wall beside the boy. "Are you friends with your nightmares, too?"

"You don't know shit about me." The boy spat. "Mind your business."

Patrick raises his hands in surrender, he shouldn't have brought it up, the boy has a right to be angry with him. "Sorry," Patrick mutters.

The boy stares at Patrick for a moment, "Who are you, anyway?"

"Um, I'm Patrick?" He says, unsure of what his bunk mate is asking.

The boy looks away, silently gazing down at his sock covered feet and instead of offering his own name he says, "If you value your sanity, you won't follow me anymore." then faces Patrick once more. "You should get back. If you get caught it's three days in the box."

Patrick nods in understanding like he's just been scolded by his mother then gets to his feet and shuffles out of the locker room, leaving the boy alone in the darkness.

***

Patrick is woken up the next morning by a CO barking and flicking the lights on and off. Come on, that could make someone seize in a second. He groans in irritation and turns over on his side, seeing the dark haired boy covering his face with his pillow. At least he came back without getting caught.

He slowly pulls the pillow down, revealing his eyes to Patrick and staring at him a moment before moving the pillow away completely. "Rise and shine." He deadpans then crawls out of his bed, Patrick doing the same a few moments later.

All of the boys get up and make their beds, tucking the covers under the thin mattress and smoothing out the wrinkles, making sure everything was pristine and tidy. Once finished they stood at the end of their bunks awaiting inspection. The CO makes his way from one end down to the other, eyeing the boys and examining their beds with a careful eye. Patrick honestly didn't get the point of making beds, they were just going to get messed up again anyway later in the day so why bother.

When the CO is finally finished glaring everyone down and is satisfied with the job the boys have done, he heads back to the center of the line and shouts, "Hit the showers!" and the boys all scramble for the locker room.

If Patrick thought the squat and cough thing was uncomfortable, he was really in for it when it came to the showers. He's never showered with a bunch of guys before, let alone a girl, and he was more the music geek in school, not a jock. He didn't want to stand naked surrounded by a flock of boys but he needed to shower so he puffed out his chest and dropped the towel he was holding around his waist, stepping into the very same shower he and his bunk mate were sitting in the night before.

The shower wasn't nearly as bad as he had imagined, everyone washed and kept their eyes to themselves, well everyone except for two. The one who served the food in the cafeteria, Frank, Patrick remembered, kept stealing glances at the boy with the silver hair more often than not.

Patrick was the last one to leave the locker room, just like when he was in school. He just dressed a little slower than everyone else, that's all. But he soon discovered that he wasn't alone, hearing a locker slam shut on the opposite side of the room. Patrick pulls on his sweatpants, slides on his shoes, then goes over to where he'd heard the noise.

It was his bunk mate. He was putting the top to his orange jumpsuit on and didn't notice Patrick standing there until his head popped up through the shirt, jumping back a little then sighing in annoyance when he realized it was only Patrick. "First you follow me, now you're watching me get dressed?"

Patrick makes a face at the boy as if he's stupid as to hide his slight embarrassment. "I thought I was alone."

"Well you thought wrong."

Patrick rolls his eyes then glances down at the boy's pants, noticing there was a stain of blood striped along the leg. "You're, um... you're bleeding."

His bunk mate looks down at himself, pulling at the fabric to get a better look. "Shit." He mutters then looks up at Patrick who's still watching. "D'you mind?"

Patrick turns on his heel and leaves the boy to clean himself up, heading toward the cafeteria for breakfast.

Patrick doesn't have an issue with the server today, he must've been having a good morning, and Patrick takes his food over to the same table as yesterday. He sits alone for a few minutes quietly eating his mini waffles and enjoying the fact that no one is bothering him, then his bunk mate shows up with his plate of food and takes a seat across from him. He wants to ask about the blood on his pants but decides not to, it's too early for arguments.

"Get any problems from Frank today?" He asks, picking up his fork and turning it sideways as to cut his waffles.

Patrick shakes his head, unable to talk because his mouth is full of waffle. He swallows his food then makes slit eyes at the boy. "And you care because...?"

The boy rolls his eyes. "Just making conversation." He says before eating some of his food.

They eat in silence, and Patrick glances at the boy in front of him noticing a bit of ink on his collarbone. He eyes it for a moment, poking his fork into his tray distractedly and when he hears the scraping of plastic he looks down. He's out of food. Patrick scoots his chair back and goes to dump his tray but his bunk mate stops him with a, "Where are you going?"

"Um," Patrick points toward the trashcan with his free hand, then adds, "I have to do laundry today."

The boy nods, picking up his half eaten waffle with one hand and grabbing his tray with the other. "Me, too." He says, then sticks the waffle in his mouth.