The blaring alarm startled Dick awake at an abrupt six o'clock. He jerked upright out of hazy nightmares he couldn't understand or fully recall. He dropped back onto the bed, groaning in pain. Everything hurt. His right hand burned with the very fires of hell. It was swollen and red with a deep purple bruise centered just centimeters back from his middle finger. His stomach ached in intense pain and hurt when he even breathed, never mind moved. His left shoulder was stiff and twinged acutely, making him hold it as still as he could. And his face, oh God his face. It felt hot and swollen and pounded in time with his heartbeat. He could feel dried blood caked to his face. His mind moved sluggishly. All he wanted to do was curl up in his uncomfortable bed and pretend that life didn't exist.
The blaring of the alarm refused to let him do that though. He heaved himself out of bed and blearily tried to get his socks and shoes on. It hurt so bad to do even that. Apparently, he wasn't allowed to kneel in the middle of the cell, though. A foot landed solidly in his stomach, knocking him back so that the back of his head smashed into the metal frame of his bed. He groaned in agony. His roommate said nothing. He simply walked out of the now open cell door.
Dick wearily shoved himself up and followed after the boy. He was shoved back and forth between the many boys as they all herded through a maze of hallways towards what Dick discovered was the washroom.
The washroom was a long, rectangular room with white tile covering the floor and walls. On the opposite wall was a mass of shower heads placed at periodic intervals. Drains were set into the ground every so many feet. On the right side of the room was a doorway through which Dick could see a room full of lockers. The doorway was surrounded on both sides by a row of sinks. Above the sinks on either side of the door were two long mirrors. The left side of the room was composed of stalls and urinals. Occupying the middle of the room were many rows of long benches.
Dick saw all the boys heading towards the room of lockers. He followed them. Everyone seemed to know which locker to go to. Dick grabbed the left breast of his jumpsuit and shrugged. He looked for the locker with a number that matched his ID. He eventually found it in the back corner of the room. He opened the locker, which had no locking mechanism. Inside he found a clean orange jumpsuit, exactly like the one he wore now, a new pair of white socks, white boxers, a white undershirt, and a white towel. There was also a bar of soap, a toothbrush, and toothpaste.
Dick looked around nervously. Boys all around him were undressing. Dick was uncomfortable. He had never been in any situation like this. His mom had always told him that nudity was not allowed in public. He couldn't run around streaking like he did when he was two. (How many times had he asked her not to tell that story? Now he could only wish he could hear her tell it, tell him anything at all.) But all the other boys were undressing, so he did, too. He put his shoes in his locker and placed his dirty clothing in the same laundry basket as the other boys did. He grabbed the towel and held it in front of him, embarrassed. None of the other boys seemed uneasy. Dick grabbed the soap and raced out to the showers, hoping to get this over with as fast as possible.
Dick picked a shower head in the far corner, as far away from the other boys as he could. He dropped the towel on a bench nearby and soaped up quickly. God, this was horrible. His hands shook with how nervous he was. He found he couldn't even enjoy the feel of the warm water on his aching body. At least he could feel the dried blood washing off his face. That was something.
Just as he turned the shower head off, a hand grabbed him by the nape of the neck. Oh no! He was spun around and shoved into the wall. Nikolai's hand firmly held him there by his already pained left shoulder. His green eyes were cold, perfectly matching the smile on the boy's face. Behind him stood Jack and Dan, the two lieutenants. All three wore only towels around their waists.
Dick whimpered softly. Slowly, Nikolai raised the hand that wasn't holding him to the wall and ran the back of it tenderly down the younger's face. Dick cringed back from pain and fear. He had almost forgotten about how bad his face hurt. "What's this?" Nikolai crooned softly. "Something happened to pretty boy's face. He ain't so pretty anymore."
Dick was shaking in fear. It didn't matter that Nikolai wasn't harming him anywhere other than his shoulder. It didn't matter how softly the boy spoke or touched him. Nothing Nikolai did or said, Dick knew, could bode well for him.
He was right.
"Maybe I should help pretty boy feel all pretty again. Hm? Would you like that, pretty boy?"
Dick didn't know what Nikolai had planned, but he was terrified of it, nonetheless. "N-n–" he began to stutter.
The pressure on his shoulder increased tenfold and didn't let up. Dick screamed bloody murder. Everyone turned to look before quickly turning their eyes away. Dick didn't notice. His eyes had overflowed with tears, and he couldn't stop screaming. Finally, he broke. "Yes! Yes! Please, just do whatever you want!" he blubbered.
Immediately, the pressure released him entirely. Dick crumpled to the ground sobbing. His head rested against the wall behind him as he looked up at Nikolai through tear-filled eyes. He stared on horrified as the boy dropped his towel and grabbed his…his…a-and peed all over Dick. Dick sat there shaking in mortification, utterly appalled as the warm liquid streamed down his body and coated his skin. He cried through the whole shameful incident.
When it was all over, Nikolai bent down to grab his towel and tapped Dick roughly on the cheek. "There now. Pretty boy has a nice perfume to go with his new look." He stalked off, his two lieutenants following behind, leaving Dick quivering in the corner of the room.
The rest of the boys in the washroom continued on with what they had been doing as if nothing at all had occurred. After two full minutes, Dick shakily pushed himself up off the floor. He turned the water back on for the shower. But no matter how much soap he used, he couldn't make himself feel clean. He quit his efforts with a sob and turned the shower off. He dried himself off quickly and headed back to the lockers. At least he could get into some clean clothing.
On his way there he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His stomach was a mess of blacks, purples, and blues. Some of the bruises were clearly fist shaped, while others were just masses of color. His left shoulder, front and back, was an angry black-purple. Distinct finger marks could be made out. His right hand, as he already knew, was swollen, red, and bruised. What really surprised him was his face. The skin around his eyes and cheeks was very puffy and probably red from tears underneath all the blacks, purples, yellows, blues, and browns. Overall, he looked like a nauseous rainbow had vomited all over him.
As soon as he was done dressing and brushing his teeth, Dick was herded with the rest of the boys to the cafeteria. Dick got in the back of the line and miserably waited his turn. First meal consisted of runny scrambled eggs and burnt hash browns. It didn't matter to Dick, though. He was starving, and this plate looked like heaven.
After receiving his tray, he turned to look at the whole room. He clearly saw Nikolai and his table, just waiting for him in the middle of the room. The older boy waved him over with two fingers. Dick glanced at the other tables desperately, hoping that some magical event would stop his feet from moving towards the one place he didn't want to go. Nothing happened.
Dick sat down miserably next to Nikolai, much closer than he was comfortable with. He was greeted with a smirked "Good morning, pretty boy" from Nikolai.
Dick merely mumbled back a "Good morning," knowing that it was expected of him. He could do without a beating right now, thank you very much. He already felt like seven shades of crap, and he was sure after seeing himself in the mirror that he looked like it, too. He did not need to add to his current miseries.
Dick sat hunched over with his head directed straight down at the table. His thick black hair, still damp, hung in his face, blocking out much of the world. Dick used the curtain to safely look out at the rest of the table, only moving his eyes. It was just like it had been yesterday. Jack and Dan sat across from Nikolai and Dick. A wide space surrounded the four of them. A couple boys sat on the fringes of the table. No one besides Nikolai was eating. The difference today, though, was that Dick knew better than to reach for his fork without permission.
So, while Nikolai began eating, Dick took the opportunity to analyze everything around him. He hadn't been thinking clearly yesterday, new to the trauma of this unfamiliar life. He was still foggy and uncertain, in lots of pain, and plenty humiliated after the shower incident, but he found he was slowly growing accustomed to it all, however sad that was.
Jack and Dan, big brutes that they were, sat side by side, silent as ever. He still didn't know which was which, and by this point he doubted he'd ever find out, but he was able to pick up certain physical differences between the two that he hadn't noticed yesterday. The one on the left, for example, had a blocky jaw, droopy eyes, and a thin mouth, giving him an overall look that screamed "unintelligent," though Dick's mami would have told him it's rude to judge others.
The boy on the right had a slightly narrower face and round eyes. His nose was bulkier and his eyebrows were very bushy. His face seemed almost too narrow to hold all the exaggerated features on it. Both of the brutes had extremely large ears.
Dick glanced at the rest of the table, but couldn't remember if these were the same boys as yesterday or if it was a new bunch. They all seemed very nervous and were barely talking, and Dick wondered why they decided to sit at this table. Dick had no choice. If he didn't sit here, Nikolai would beat him. But these boys, Dick was pretty sure, had a choice in the matter. Dick saw no good reason to choose to sit at this table, especially since you had to wait for Nikolai to tell you that you could eat. But then Dick noticed that although the boys at the other tables in the room were talking at a good volume, none of them were eating. And most of them kept glancing at Nikolai every few moments.
My God, Dick realized, he decides for everyone.
Dick glanced at Nikolai, half in awe and half in instilled fear. The boy sat eating, completely content. His back was straight, his shoulders stood proudly, and his head faced forwards. He didn't look around or seem unsure of himself. Nikolai knew exactly who he was and exactly how much power he held.
Dick admired that, even if it was in this boy he was coming to fear and hate. Dick wanted to be strong like Nikolai was. He didn't want to be the one that everyone beat on. He didn't want to be the one at the bottom of the hierarchy. And I don't want to eat last, he grumbled silently to himself when he saw Nikolai gesture to allow everyone else in the cafeteria to eat.
Dick didn't dare reach for his fork. He had learned his lesson yesterday. Once was enough.
Dick waited until Nikolai finished eating. Then he waited some more. The boy showed no signs that he was considering letting Dick eat. Dick became concerned. Surely Nikolai would let him eat! He was starving! The boy had to let him eat. To do otherwise would just be cruel. Nikolai couldn't do that to him, could he? Dick's stomach growled in protest. He wrapped his arms around himself as if to comfort it. Suddenly, Nikolai's hand came to rest on Dick's neck. Dick wanted to cringe in fear and shout in relief at the same time. Surely this meant he could now eat! Dick looked hopefully up at Nikolai, but the boy only stared ahead contentedly.
What did that mean? Was Dick allowed to eat? But Nikolai hadn't expressly told him he was allowed to eat yet. If he ate without permission, Nikolai would surely beat him. Dick didn't think he could take that just now. He decided not to eat, no matter how much he wanted to. Better to not eat than to risk Nikolai's wrath.
When the guards called an end to first meal, Dick almost whimpered. Nikolai stood up and waited for Dick to do the same. When Dick stood right next to him, his tray still full and untouched, Nikolai leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Good boy."
After first meal, apparently, was school time. The boys were divided by their age and put into the appropriate grade. Each grade went to its own classroom where all the subjects for that grade were taught from 7:30 in the morning until 4:00 in the afternoon. No breaks. The only good thing about this, Dick thought, is that I get eight-and-a-half hours away from Nikolai.
Dick had never been to a real school. Unless performing at one with the circus for a day when he was seven counted. It was impossible to go to school when you lived on the road. So Dick's mother had homeschooled him right out of their trailer. She had always said he was a very bright young boy.
"All the moms say that about their kids, mom!" he complained. He was sitting on the green, floral-print couch-bench at the kitchen table in their trailer with her. The tan linoleum tiles that made up the floor in this area of the trailer were peeling up in some places, as was the tan wallpaper. The dark brown shades that covered the four windows in the living area no longer moved very well, if at all. The green rug that ran under the table and rimmed the pullout couch was worn and stained beyond "good use," as his mother liked to call it.
But this was their trailer, their home, where they belonged. And Dick loved it.
"Of course all moms tell their boys that they're special and smart," his mother replied to his protests. "But no mom means it like I do!" She then proceeded to tickle him until he no longer had the breath to laugh. All the while she told him, "You're my special boy, my little Robin. You're smart and funny and handsome and the bestest son a mother could have."
Dick pulled out of the painful memory, quickly wiping away the tears that had escaped his eyes. He tried to focus again on the lecture the man at the front of the room was giving, but he really couldn't care less. He couldn't even be bothered to know if it was history or math that the guy was talking about. (Heck, he couldn't even remember the guy's name.)
Dick remembered that when he was little…in fact just a few weeks ago, back when he lived with his parents at Haly's Circus…he remembered that he'd always loved to learn. It didn't matter what it was that he was learning, he wanted to learn it. He had mopped everything up like a sponge, his mother had always said. He learned things faster than normal boys, he knew, because he was two grade levels ahead of where he should be for a boy his age. His mother had said that there was no reason to hold him back from learning more if he was ready for it. Dick had especially loved math. He was four grades ahead in math. His mother had sometimes had to actually force him to stop reading the math book and study other subjects.
He had been especially good with languages as well. He had a natural talent for them, his mother had said. It helped that they had traveled a lot to many different countries. His parents had been insistent that he be able to speak at least passingly with the customers. His parents' "complete immersion" practice had helped. As soon as they entered a new country where they would be performing for any length of time, they would start speaking only in that language. His mother would teach him from the school books, of course, but it really was their immersion policy that helped him the most. The entire circus had joined in on it, too, over the years. Sometimes Dick would go days without really understanding a thing anyone said to him. They would only switch to his native Romani if it was really important that he understand what was going on, like with safety measures, or to understand a word that he just couldn't grasp.
Dick was only half Romani, on his father's side. But he had been really proud of his heritage, and Dick's mother had supported him in that. Plus the fact that most of their circus troupe was Romani or part Romani. So Dick had grown up with that being his primary language. But since they had traveled all over Europe and North America, Dick could speak a good handful of languages with at least partial fluency.
Dick wondered where his zest for learning had gone. A few weeks ago, his mother had to pull him out of his math book by luring him with promises of acrobatics practice. Now he could barely pick his head up off of his folded arms as the teacher droned on about he-couldn't-care-less-what.
Eight-and-a-half hours later, Dick sat in his place under the basketball hoop once again. It was free roam, now. Which meant that all the prisoners were allowed to roam freely, so long as they stayed inside the gated and guarded yard surrounded by watchtowers. Dick knew that English was not his first or even second or third language, but he still thought that the Detention Center was the one who didn't understand the word 'free' here.
Dick was exhausted, physically and emotionally. He was tired from the lack of sleep and the nightmares he had suffered all night long, from the beatings and the pain and the starvation. He was tired because his parents were dead, because his world and his family had been taken away from him, because there was this cruel boy that seemed to live to torment him, and because he could no longer find a reason to keep going. His life was a living hell. Dick didn't know how it could get any worse, but he was sure that if Nikolai thought of a way, he would make sure it happened.
Dick was falling into a well of despair, one he had never known before. His life had always been untroubled and happy. He had been a carefree boy living a life of freedom and bliss. Now he was caged in a nightmarish prison, and his joyous world had turned to one of darkness and pain.
"Pretty boy, go get the ball." Nikolai's order shook Dick out of his thoughts. He ran to retrieve the ball as told, determined not to be punished this time. When he returned to Nikolai's side, Dick cautiously handed him the ball. Nikolai took it and grabbed Dick by the nape of the neck. Dick flinched instinctively but no harm came to him this time. Nikolai leaned closer so that their cheeks brushed each other and whispered in his ear, "Good boy."
Last meal couldn't come soon enough for Dick. By the time six o'clock rolled around and the guards called them in from the yard, his stomach was cramped with hunger, and Dick's head was aching from all the times the ball had hit him. On the plus side, he only had to be punished for seven misdemeanors so far today.
Dick waited under the hoop for Nikolai to give him permission to come. When he finally did, after waiting for everyone else to go inside first, Dick followed Nikolai dutifully inside. Once in the cafeteria, Dick waited for Nikolai's cue before walking to the back of the very long line while the older boy cut to the very front. Dick was the last to get his food, as he was sure was Nikolai's plan. Dick didn't even care what the food was. He was so hungry he would eat shoe leather at this point. He'd only eaten a tiny breakfast at the GCPD yesterday and half his dinner here yesterday, and he hadn't eaten anything at all today. Dick didn't know what he would do if Nikolai didn't let him eat now.
Nonetheless, he obediently sat by Nikolai's side while the boy, and then everyone else, ate. When Nikolai finally finished eating, he once again wrapped his hand around Dick's nape. Dick shook from hunger and pain and fear.
Finally, he could take it no more. He looked imploringly up at Nikolai from under his bangs.
The boy looked down on him impassively. One eyebrow rose in question.
"Please," he whimpered. "Please, Nikolai, can I please eat?" He had been reduced to begging for food, and he hated himself for it. But he was just so hungry.
The boy just continued to stare at him emotionlessly for a few moments more. Then finally, he smiled, self-satisfied. "You may eat now, pretty boy." His tone was an odd mixture of affectionate and smug.
Dick partially sagged in relief, almost forgetting who this boy was and what he had done to him. "Thank you," he whimpered. "Thank you." The scary thing was that, at that exact moment, a part of Dick was truly thankful to this boy.
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