Work Text:
Lyle’s assignment for the day was to clean the rec room. As he stood in the middle of the room, looking at the mess around him made him want to cry. Being condemned to rot in a 6 x 8 ft prison cell made him want to cry.
The way that Luke had gotten piss all over the toilet seat that morning and hadn't bothered to wipe it off made him want to cry.
Carefully, Lyle got to work, picking up the loose used tissues, crumpled pieces of paper, and candy wrappers off the floor. When he threw them away, he stacked the crossword puzzles, word searches, and coloring books on the table. He was sweeping up a pile of dirt when he heard someone come in.
He looked up and saw Luke, who waved at him awkwardly. “Hey Lyle. I thought I'd come see if you needed any help.”
“Okay, thanks. Yeah, if you don't mind, will you finish sweeping?” Lyle smiled and handed Luke the broom. “Seriously man, thanks.” Lyle pinched Luke's cheek affectionately and left the room.
When he got to the door, Lyle heard Luke mutter under his breath. “Shit, I shouldn't have said anything!”
“Sometimes, the person you're really angry at is yourself.” Dr. Poplin, the new psychiatrist, pursed his lips and gave Lyle a shallow, patronizing, holier-than-thou look that made Lyle want to slap him.
“I'm not angry at myself. I'm angry because I want to see my brother, and I'm never going to get to see him again. Don't you think that's a little fucked up?” Lyle spoke slowly and enunciated every word.
“Lyle, that's not helpful.” Dr. Poplin stared at Lyle’s cuffed hands for a few tense moments before he looked up again.
“Lyle, I'm not supposed to let you in on anything personal, but one thing you should know about me is that I haven't seen or spoken to anyone in my family for years. In all likelihood, I will never see or speak to them again. The last time I spoke with my mother, I tried to talk to her about the Lord, but she didn't want to hear it. That's how unbelievers are; the Lord makes them so uncomfortable that they can't stand to hear about Him.”
“Oh my god.” Lyle groaned and pressed his face against the handcuffs. Dr. Poplin misunderstood him.
“Yes Lyle, that's it!” he said excitedly. “Just call upon the Name of the Lord, and you too shall be saved! Just call upon the Name of Jesus, and your sins will be forgiven in His Name and by his precious blood!”
Abruptly, Lyle stood up and walked out the door. He walked down the hall back to his cell, and when he stepped inside, he found Luke asleep on the bottom bunk, which was his bed. “Hey, get up. You know this is my bed, Luke.”
Luke groaned and rolled over, pulling the thin blanket tighter around him. Lyle dug below Luke's side and pulled him out of bed, dropping him onto the floor. “I said get up, damn it!"
“Okay, okay!” Luke sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, Lyle. I thought you'd be gone longer.”
“Well, here's the thing…” Lyle smiled and raised an eyebrow. “So I think what happened is that I went to the chaplain’s office instead of the new shrink's. I hope so, anyway.”
Still on the floor, Luke curled his legs into his chest. “What happened? Did he talk to you about Jesus or something?”
“Yeah, he gave me the whole evangelistic spiel. He told me to call upon the Name of the Lamb, and to be washed in his blood, or something like that. I don't know. I mean, I'm a Catholic. They never really talked about that stuff in the church I grew up in."
“Consider yourself lucky, then. I'm a Baptist. I had to hear that bullshit every single Sunday of my life, until I turned 18 and stopped going.” Luke laughed and climbed the ladder to the top bunk.
Lyle felt a sudden chill so strong that he rubbed his legs together. “Hey Luke, I'm sorry I got a little rough with you. And hey, while I'm thinking about it, do you know the new shrink's name?”
“It's alright, Lyle, don't sweat it. Yeah, I met with him yesterday. His name's Dr. Parker.”