This chapter had me down with a slight case of writers block, but I think I beat it. It much harder to go back to work after 2½ month of schooling, than I thought, so I apologize for the length: I decided to split this chapter in two, so it wouldn't take another month before an update!

Hope you're all well on the other side of the screen (:

Chapter 10 – Lies and apologies

"You're awf'ly quiet today," Dean noted in his usual mellow manner. "Everything's alright?"

"What? Yearh, of course," Brutus snapped at him belligerently. "Why shouldn't it be?"

Dean eyed him over the armrest from the other side of Ol' Sparky. It was late in the morning and they were polishing the electric chair, a job that Brutus usually found relaxing, as strange as it might sound. But today is just gave room for too many unwelcome thoughts about a certain half-British nurse…

"Gee, you sure carry out that pretty nickname of yours these days, Brutal," Dean said, his soft tone now slightly dry. "But I gotta tell you: Being a prick doesn't suit you very well."

Brutus felt instantly guilty.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I have a lot on my mind, I guess."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really, no." He dodged the unpleasant questions. "Perhaps I'm just tired, you know…"

"No wonder! How mine night shifts have you had this week?"

"Don't know," Brutus lied. But he knew exactly how many: Five. Five nights avoiding Ellie. She had already finished her shift, when he met at work and he was already on his way home, when she returned. This was his first day shift since the arrival of John Coffey.

Dean sighed resignedly.

"Right… He stood up, raising his arms above his head to stretch his back. "I need a break. You want some more coffee?"

"No, I'm fine, but thanks."

"Well, suit yourself… Hello, miss Brent."

Brutus rose from his knees, so fast he knocked over his can of polish, so it clattered down the platform. Blushing from neck to brows, he turned away from Dean's amused expressions, something between a frown and a sheepishly smirk, to look at her standing in the doorway.

"Hi," he said automatically.

Five days of absence had done nothing to damp his feelings. Quite the contrary. She looked more wonderful than he remembered, her warm, deep-blue eyes sparkling in the dusty sunlight. She wasn't wearing her nursing cap and her hair, shining in dark gold- and chestnut color under the light, was being hold back in a loose braid.

"Am I interrupting?" Ellie asked.

"No, not at all," Dean responded. "We were just discussing whether to have a coffee break or not."

She gave a light smile. "Now would be a good time. I just saw Mr. Terwilliger make a fresh pot."

"Well, it's settled then. I'll be right back."

Dean left them in awkward silence. Ellie looked around, clutching what seemed to be a black handkerchief in both hands. Brutus fought in vain to find something clever to say, but all he could think about was, that he was standing in his shirtsleeves, sweaty and covered in furniture wax, and she looked like an angel in white…

He hardly noticed when she started talking.

"What?" he asked stupidly.

She looked slightly embarrassed.

"The hut," she repeated, placing the black cloth on the nearest chair. "I have fixed the hole in the sewing. I just wanted to return it."

It wasn't until now Brutus recognized the silky, black fabric, she had been holding: It wasn't a handkie, but the black hut, that covered the face of the convicted, before they pulled the final switch.

He looked at her. He had a million things he wanted to tell her. But all that came out was: "Oh, right," and he flinched on the inside.

"You guys need help with anything?" she asked.

"Uh… No thanks. We're almost done for now."

"Oh." Her disappointment hit him harder, than he expected. "Okay, then…"

His mouth went dry, when she turned to leave. Christ, what was he doing? This was all wrong! In his desperation to spare himself and his feelings, all he did was hurting her and make himself more and more miserable. She was a fine girl – the finest – with a good heart and she didn't deserve this.

God, when did you turn into such a selfish bastard?

This had to stop. He had no idea how, but I had to. He took a step forward.

"Ellie, wait…" he began.

"Please, tell me something," she said at the same time, turning around in the doorway. "I don't quite understand what is going on: Have I done something to upset you?"

Her abruptness took him off guard.

"No," he responded breathlessly. "No, 'cos not."

"You sure?" She looked pained. "Because you used to be…" She cut herself short, taking a deep breath of discomfiture, before continuing: "You are treating me, like I have done something wrong. And if that's the case, I would really like to know, what it is I have done."

"You've done nothing, trust me," he replied desperately. "I'm really sorry, Ellie. You weren't supposed to be the one to suffer from this."

"From what?" she asked.

Suddenly his mind was completely empty. He panicked. What? What?!

"It's… my dad," someone blurted out, in his voice and with his mouth. "He's sick."

You dad hasn't had a day off, since you were a boy! his inner voiced protested, but to his own horror, he just kept babbling: "There's something wrong with his heart. I think it might be quite serious and I can't seem to get it out of my head. I think about it night and day and it's wearing me out."

He was halfway through the jabber, before realizing, that he wasn't even talking about his dads fake sickness, but his own heartache caused by her.

"I'm so sorry, Brutus," she said quietly and her genuine sympathy didn't make the fact, that he was lying his ass off, any better. "I had no idea."

He shook his head.

"I should be the one to apologize," he responded. "I know I have been acting like a jerk recently. But it won't happen again, I promise."

"Don't worry, it's quite understandable," she said gently. "It's never easy, when someone you care about is sick. Trust me. I see it everyday."

He just nodded, not knowing how to response. He was already out of his depth, as it was.

"Ellie, could you please not tell the guys," he asked. "They don't know about and I'm not sure I wanna tell them just yet."

"Of course. Take your time."

"Thanks."

She looked like she was about to return to the Mile, but then change her mind.

"You know," she said softly, "Mr. Terwilliger asked if I would like to play a game of Chinese checkers, before lunch. You are very welcome to join us, when you are done with the chair. Dean too, of course."

A part of him faintly recalled that he hated board games, but suddenly that seemed quite insignificant.

"I'll love that," he said and meant it.

She smiled at him and his heart made a funny little skip of joy, when he realized, how much he had missed her smile.

Oh, hell, he was willing to live with a shattered heart, a massive lie and unrequited love, if it meant her being happy.