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*Yancy’s POV*
He was sure you wouldn’t show up. He was so certain that you wouldn’t make an appearance that he didn’t bother to shower. Now, don’t get him wrong, Yancy was grateful for the times that you came in the past. He wouldn’t trade those days for anything in the world.
The day he helped you escape Happy Trails Penitentiary was the day he realized he just let go of the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. He got to see your wonderful face just once a month since then, six times in total. Every third Sunday of the month was visitation and it sure made Yancy wish there were more Sundays in a month.
Dat’s how it works, right? Ah, shucks. Who even cares at dis point?
He got up from his small desk in his cell and shuffled over to the barred door. He glanced back over at the apology letter he had started and sighed.
“It’s probably all for nothin’. Last time we talked, (Y/N) wore such a cold expression. I was worried it was somethin’ I did, but she never told me what was gettin’ to her. If she don’t show up today, I’ll send her my letter and hope for da best.”
“Sounds like you’re gonna need more than a letter, son,” a Southern drawl chuckled outside the cell. Yancy looked up to find the Warden relaxing against the wall.
“I may not seem like it,” he continued, “but I’ve got a lot of… experience... with your situation.” The Warden constantly listened in on prisoners when they thought out loud and it was getting tiring, especially when he had no room to talk.
“Oh, ya do, do youse? How’s your wife?”
The Warden had been alone for quite some time now and had never had a relationship for longer than eight months. It was surprising how much personal information was revealed when he talked in his sleep.
He didn’t seem to appreciate that comment at all as his face quickly changed from calm to contemptuous. He took a few steps toward the cell but the smug look on Yancy’s face remained.
“Thanks for the input, but I thinks I can handle this myself.”
The Warden turned away and headed down the hall without another word.
Well, I knows I can be a bit intimidatin', but I didn’t know I hit THAT close ta home…
On that note, Yancy had just started to get settled at his desk when one of the guards came by his cell. He tapped on a bar with his baton and announced, “You’ve got a visitor.”
After a moment of Yancy staring at the guard in disbelief, he blinked and replied, “For me? I got… a visitor?”
“I didn’t stutter. Now come on, she looks pretty anxious to see you.”
The guard led a still bewildered Yancy down the hall and towards the visitation room. Before they walked through the door, Yancy stopped in his tracks.
What if it’s (Y/N) and she’s just here to tell me she don’t wanna see me no more? Or what if she has to tell me she’s movin’ outta town? What if she notices I didn’t take a shower? Do I smell?
A thousand and one questions raced through his head. He had never felt this way before, so scared to be around someone he so desperately wanted to see. The guard called after him and he made his way towards the door.
*Your POV*
You started fidgeting with your hands. They were getting clammier the longer you sat there. What’s taking so long? Does he not want to see me?
You couldn’t blame him after what happened last month. You had tried so hard to keep a positive face but Yancy saw right through it. You had just gone through one of the most difficult times in your life, but you desperately wanted to keep it from him. You could only imagine how he must feel every day in prison, let alone piling your problems in the mix.
You recalled the moment you two first met. A whirlwind of events would be putting it lightly. You started off robbing a museum with your friend Mark, trying to escape in a helicopter, and getting locked up in Happy Trails Penitentiary. Thing is, “locked up” doesn’t quite explain what happened.
You and Mark had decided that you would try to rally the prisoners so they could help you two escape. But then, he did that thing where he thought he knew what he was doing and utterly failed.
He was suddenly out of the picture, and that’s when you saw Yancy. He was seated on a table and proceeded to break out in song, very musical-like, questioning why you wanted to break out and explaining why he didn’t want to be free. But despite how cheerful he sounded, you knew that he couldn’t possibly want to stay in prison for life. When you persisted and told him you didn’t want to stay, there was a fight and you came out on top. Those four lousy weeks of mixed martial arts training came in handy.
You had just been sent to your cell and decided to lay down for a bit but Yancy was already there, helping you to break out. It was such a kind gesture. He didn’t have to help you at all, but he did. That was when it hit you that he cared. Before you knew it, you were standing on the other side of the penitentiary gates, looking in at Yancy as he explained that he really shouldn’t be out in the real world yet. It broke your heart to think that would be the last time you saw him, but then he mentioned that visitation was every third Sunday. When you got home that night, you circled every third Sunday of the month in neon orange for the remainder of the year, and as soon as you got next year’s calendar, you filled it up too.
The first visitation you attended was memorable. The way Yancy’s face lit up with pure joy and glee as soon as he saw you filled you up with warmth.
He had said, “I didn’t think youse would come back to see me!”
You had laughed at his statement and told him that you wanted to see him every chance you got. You two talked for a long time about your pasts, interests, hobbies, everything. You had found it so endearing when he told you about his M&Ms.
“I pour all my M&Ms out of the bag, sort them into blue, red, green, brown, orange, and yellow piles and eat one from each pile in order. Youse gotta restart when youse gets to yellow until they’re all gone.”
You were smiling the whole time he talked. At first, he was worried you were making fun of him, but you took his hand in yours, looked him right in the eye, and assured him that you would never judge him. You both knew that meant something more than the M&Ms.
A door opening interrupted your train of thought. You were fixated on it, waiting to see if Yancy would be walking through it.
Sure enough, there he stood, nervously peeking into the room. When his eyes met yours, you felt comfortable knowing he still wanted to see you after you were very cold with him last month. You just hoped he would hear you out and forgive you.
Yancy walked over to the table and sat down in haste. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but no words came out. You decided to start.
“Yancy… I am so terribly sorry about what happened last month. I was bitter, and distant, and it was wrong for me to act like that around you.”
You desperately examined his face to try and uncover any sign of emotion. One minute he was readable as a book and the next he was deadpan as a rock.
Then, just when you were debating whether or not to leave, a single tear rolled down his cheek.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask, still bewildered at his lack of facial expression. After a brief moment, he answered.
“I was just… I was so scared that youse was never gonna come back.” He shifted his eyes to his hands. “Or if youse did, youse would tell me that youse didn’t wants to see me no mores.”
“Yancy, look at me,” you said with a soft voice. He turned his eyes back to yours. “I will never, ever stop coming back here to see you. Until the day you’re released from this place, I will be here, every third Sunday. Always.”
A small but highly anticipated smile makes its way to his face. It grows into a warm grin as he lets what you just said sink in.
“Gee, (Y/N), I dunno whats to say,” he said as he wiped the tear from his face.
“You don’t have to say anything,” you reassured. “I just want you to know how much I care about you.”
With that, Yancy looked at you with seriousness and empathy and said, “Do youse wanna tell me what was buggin’ youse last month? I mean, youse don’t have to if youse ain’t comfortable but I wanna see if I can help.” He gave a reassuring smile.
You gave him a concerned look and replied, “Well, I’m very happy that you care, but I just…” your voice trailed off.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“I didn’t want to tell you anything before because I didn’t want to burden you with my silly problems.” You forced a half-smile to try and lighten the mood.
Yancy’s face turned into one of worry as he furrowed his brow and the corners of his mouth drooped.
“(Y/N), youse never has to worry about burdenin’ me. It don’t matter how minor or how serious youse thinks youse’s problems are, I wanna hears about ‘em so I can help you out and make youse happy and content again.” His dark brown eyes softened as he saw a genuine smile on your face.
“So, let’s talk. Youse can tell me anythin’, doll.”
He brought his hands up to yours and held them, allowing you to feel comfortably at peace. Then, for the first time, you knew that both you and Yancy cared about each other so much more than you could have imagined. You told him about how you had lost one of your closest friends a month ago. She had died in a car crash because the other driver sped through a traffic light. The whole time, he held your hands tight and reassured you. He told you that he would do whatever he needed to do to make you feel better.
“All I need is you,” you whispered. You could feel your cheeks start to get red.
Oh come on, now isn’t exactly the time for these feelings!
Yancy chuckled when he sensed your timidness.
“Well then, kitten, I’m all youse’s.”