**I wrote this a few years ago and I wanted to upload it here so I can re-read it XD. I apologize for no quotations, I originally wrote it on my phone.**
Correctional Officer Sam Healy walked down the hallway. All of the inmates we're in their bunks. The loss of Tricia Miller had taken it's toll quickly on the girls. The other correctional officers we're shaken up too.
She was young and even though she was a heroine addict, Tricia Miller had her whole life ahead of her.
Sam always believed the inmates could shape up. But now they lost one. And Sam felt like it was all his fault. He could of stopped it. Could have helped. Should have done something.
And now he had to go home. To Katya. The cold-hearted Russian "wife" of his.
Or not.
He had a sofa in his office.
Blanket.
Extra shirt, just in case he ever spilled on his.
He could stay at his office.
But he did need some food. He started to make his way down to the mess hall. Maybe Red had some left overs so he could make a sandwhich.
The empty halls always had a creepy factor to them. The idea of Tricia's death still lingered in the air, an odd silence filled every nook and cranny.
There was a single light on in the kitchen, it looked to be like the office light. Red's office. She had to be broken-hearted. Tricia was one of her girls. It looked like his sandwhich trip would take a detour.
He knocked on the door and Red hissed at him to go away.
Red, it's me.
Sam and Red had always had a weird relationship. A simple respect to each other, but they knew far too much about each other. But they had a deep connection with each other.
Oh, she scrambled out of her chair and unlocked the door. Sorry. I thought it was one of the girls. I just…I just needed some time alone from them.
She wiped away the tears from her face.
Here, Sam pulled out a hankie and wiped them from her cheek, lingering there. She was so soft. Her cheek so warm.
In the bottom of his stomach, Sam felt a knot form. The kind that felt like butterflies and needing to vomit at the same time. It was a feeling he hadn't had since Katya first came to the states.
But when she sighed, turning her face into his hand, they both stopped.
It was wrong.
Wrong on many levels.
He was an officer, she was an inmate. He was married and so was she. Hell, she had three boys.
I'm sorry, he sputtered out. Sam jerked his hand away from her face, but as soon as he did, Red flung her arms around his neck, bring her face in his shirt and began sobbing.
Oh shit, Red. He patted her back, trying to calm her. He'd really fucked up this time.
I should have been there, she sobbed. Her body wracked with sobs. She clung to him, grabbed him and held him to her.
From the weight she put on him, he could tell he was keeping her upright. And that hit him right in the gut. This wasn't about him, and pressing his boundaries, it was about Tricia.
She was letting him see a new side of her, a soft and needing sign. And in return, he felt needed.
Here, here. Sam pulled back from her enough to see her face. Let's go where you can sit down and we can talk.
Together, they walked down the hall and into his office. Sam sat her down on the sofa and then sat next to her. She stared at her hands. And Sam wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He could feel her relax into him, again resting her head on his shoulder.
This time mostly sniffles came from the chef's mouth.
I could have done something too, Red. Could have said something.
They relaxed into each other more, like a couple sitting down at the end of the day. Red pulled one of her legs up under her and shifted her weight against Sam. And he let his hand wander from her shoulder to her firey hair. Running his hand through her hair calmed him. And he could tell she started to calm down as well.
Healy, she whispered. I–just wanted to say thank you, her hand patted his thigh.
She started to get up, but Sam stopped her by grabbing her hand.
Red, stay. Talk to me. We don't have to talk about Tricia. Let's get your mind off of her.
He spun her around and grabbed her other hand.
This is wrong, but you mean the world to me and I need to know you're okay.
The world?