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Chris almost makes a comment about how quiet Toby’s being, but something inside stops him.
Yeah, he just got back from his firstborn son’s funeral. Nine years old, never going to reach double-digits, an innocent little boy Toby helped create.
It’s a little surprising Toby isn’t rhyming, attacking every Aryan on sight, or simply outright howling, but quietness in the face of everything is understandable.
He doesn’t know what to say or do. If he’d known all this would happen, he’d have made sure the stab in the gym killed Vern. He would have killed Vern the second Toby started listening to all that bullshit Saïd sprouted about making things right with Vern.
Memories of bones snapping make him shudder.
Mixed in the memory of the gym is three other men, and he covered his tracks good enough Pierce and those like him shouldn’t ever be able to find proof.
Not unless he did something incredibly stupid such as telling someone what he did.
Go to bed, he tells himself. Try to find a way to help Toby tomorrow.
“Hey, Toby?”
“Hmm. Yeah?”
Toby’s voice is quiet, contemplative, and it reminds him of when Toby was talking to O’Reily about Operation Andy.
If Toby wants Vern dead, if it wasn’t Vern (unlikely), and Toby wants whoever did it dead, he’ll be happy to help.
“Those men Pierce told you about. I did kill them.”
In the mirror, he sees Toby sit up more fully.
“But the thing is,” he goes over, “I didn’t do it for the reasons he thinks. I’ve been with other men, Toby, and- most of them are still alive. It wasn’t about the sex. That was just a way to get them in position.”
Toby’s eyes are filled with unreadable emotion. “Why did you, then?”
“Here, I’m coming up.”
Hopefully, Toby coming back from Gary’s funeral will make the hacks give them leeway tonight.
“I can’t- look, Toby, there are some things I can’t tell you. It ain’t about trust or me trying to mislead you. Those men did something to some people, and I objected to this. What they did was bad. It isn’t my place to say much about the people they hurt.”
Toby nods. “You hurt them, killed them, because, they hurt someone you- you disagreed with them hurting these people?”
“Yeah. Other than that,” he carefully reaches over to touch Toby’s hair, “I’m not lying about ever feeling this way. I married Bonnie twice, because, what I felt for her was deeper than what I felt for any other woman. You, no man’s ever made me feel the way you do. I love you, Toby.”
When Toby doesn’t block the kiss, he feels hope go through him.
Then, Toby asks, “Were you part of the kidnapping?”
Admittedly, the words that slip out of his mouth probably don’t help his case, but all the same, to hell with Beecher, if he could think for one minute-
He’s at the door when he remembers: Pod’s locked. Storming out isn’t an option for about eight more hours.
If threw something at Toby, he’d get sent to the hole, and that- that would preferable to-
Again, broken bones flash through his mind.
The last time he hurt a kid, he was still a kid himself. Toby’s kids-
He’d prayed on his knees for them to come home safely. Even knowing how unlikely it was, he’d prayed one-handed Gary would come back alive. He’d prayed Holly would come back with both hands and her big brother.
Taking a deep breath, he goes back over, and climbing back up, he ignores Toby’s surprised look.
“No. How could you even think that?”
The shrug Toby gives is so insulting he wants to- Hurting Toby would only make things even worse.
He can’t imagine things can get much worse, though.
“Timmy Kirk told me you have a kidnapping charge on your record.”
“And you believe anything that piece of shit says? He’s the one who put a baby in a rat-infested dumpster.”
He doesn’t regret the words, but- it’s a good thing he never tried to defend himself in court. Turns out, those uncaring, overworked legal aid pricks and that one woman likely did get better for him than he would’ve got for himself.
Cursing, he takes another deep breath. “He was telling the truth, but still, you’d just believe him without asking me my side?”
“What is your side?”
“I’ve told you Angelique’s sister has shitty taste in men, baby daddies included. One day, her son had a medical appointment out of town, and she left her girls with the youngest’s dad. They called Angelique crying. I went over to get them, and he said I could only take the oldest. It turned out, legally, he did have a leg to stand on, but I did the right thing when I took them both to Angelique. Charges were dropped when he realised there was a good chance that he might ended up charged with abuse if certain things came out.”
He almost offers to give Toby her number, to call her to let Toby talk to her, to have her come visit, but no. He broke Toby’s bones, and Toby didn’t tell. Now, he’s told Toby about the murders.
This has to be enough. Toby has more than enough to destroy him.
It’s not fair. He has nothing on Toby.
Love is only fair and painless in kids’ storybooks, cleaned-up fairytales, and sappy Hallmark movies.
And suddenly, he’s looking at a shank.
“I’m going to kill whoever killed Gary.”
This strikes him as a great idea until the realisation hits: Toby might have-
“Planning to kill me, Beecher?”
Shrugging, Toby sets it over on his lap.
You truly are insane, goes through his head.
He’s not entirely sure which one of them the thought is directed at.
“Toby. Answer me. Were you planning to kill me?”
“Would you forgive me if I was?”
Sliding down, he wipes it before finding a hiding place.
Part of him is tempted to crawl in his own bunk. Another part says to get the hacks. Hole, infirmary, protective custody, Gen Pop, even the psych ward, anywhere anyway from Beecher.
Not bothering to keep his sigh in, he gets back up on Toby’s bunk. “I won’t if you try while I’m sleeping. I’m taking the glass. If either of us ends up on the floor, it’ll be you.”
He gets them both under the blanket, and everything is quiet until Toby starts crying and shaking.
All he can do is hold him, whisper quiet words, and wonder if not trying before- it doesn’t matter. He is now.
Once sleep comes, it’s short.
Turns out: His head hitting the glass when Toby is twitching from nightmares hurts.
But when lights on comes, they’re both still alive, and the shank remains hidden.
“You need to go to the infirmary.”
“Nah, I’m fine.”
“Chris, please, go to the infirmary.”
His name, Toby’s soft, hurt, worried eyes- heaven help him, he’s not going to hold a grudge over Toby thinking the worst. Planning to kill him.
It’s something. The shank’ll be gone soon, and telling anyone is unlikely to do anything good. Even if people believed him, his own actions after finding out-
But he knows. Toby might be a better person, but Toby came close to doing worse than breaking bones.
Besides, he’s no longer tempted to ask if Toby shanked him in the storage room.
It doesn’t matter.
He planned to hurt someone who’d never done anything to him, and he went through with it even after he found himself in love.
Shanking would have been somewhat fair.
Despite all he’s done to prove himself, earn Toby’s love and trust, Toby still believed the worst of him.
Only difference is, in the end, Toby didn’t go through with it, and there’s still a chance for both of them.