Hey guys!

I had a blast writing this chapter, especially the part about Brutus being slightly daring in the execution room x) Heh! Please don't hate me for it, I couldn't help myself!

And to all of you, who I'm driving crazy with Brutus' lack of courage… ;) Don't worry! I promise – cross my heart – that something will happen in chapter 19! So hang on! And don't forget to R&R, it always make my day (;

Chapter 14 – Taming the beast

Ellie splashed cold water on her face and neck and shivered. She was tired. It had been another dreadfully hot night, but the heat had not been the only thing keeping her awake since three a.m.

Her thoughts had been wandering all night, revolving around two men.

One was Arlen Bitterbuck, who was right now sitting in his cell, watching the last sunset in his life. Was he scared – or was he ready? Soon he would be ordering his final meal. He would have the last walk in the yard, breathing fresh air and feeling the sun on his skin for the last time. Ellie couldn't even begin to imagine, how it was like to know, that this day, would be your final. That life would stop.

She grabbed the towel and dried her skin. How someone could know that and still be sane would forever be a mystery for her.

The other man occupying her mind had, of course, been Brutus, but that didn't mean that her thoughts about him were in any way happier.

She had never felt so powerless in her whole life. She knew that she liked him – more than like him to be honest, but she had no clue on what to do with him. She had been kind, she had been closely and she had even tried to be flirty. She was no longer dropping hints at him – she was throwing it at him. But no matter how interested he seemed to be, he would always come to that point, where he hit some kind of invincible boundary, that kept him from getting to close to her and he would back of again.

She was getting sick and tired of it and the worst part was, she wasn't even sure, whether it was him or herself, that had put up that stupid boundary. And was it even possible to tear it down again?

Ellie walked back into her bed room – which was actually the only room on the tiny, rented apartment. Here she had her bed, a table and a chair and her dresser. There was also a radio and a book shelf, but most evenings she was too tired to try either one. Working a twelve hours shift a day every day, even though it was only temporary, was exhausting. But after nearly three weeks, it had started to become routine: Up at five a.m, cleaning up, getting dressed and go downstairs, where Mrs. Potter (bless her soul) had her breakfast ready. And then there was an hour drive in the bus, before arriving at Cold Mountain around seven.

Ellie pulled her nightgown of and picked up her undergarments. Put when she reached her tights, she hesitated.

"You know what?" she said. "Sorry, head nurse Baker, but not today. Give me just one day, where it doesn't fell like I'm melting away."

She threw them on her bed and buttoned up her dress, before walking down the stairs.

oOo

E-block was humming with life, when Brutus arrived at work at 9 o'clock. Harry and Percy were struggling with a huge ladder, who was stuck in the doorway of the superiors office.

"What's goin' on?" Brutus asked wondering.

"Mouse hunt," Harry responded, as though it was the most obvious thing in the whole world. "Paul's orders."

"Okay," Brutus said slowly. "And who's going on the ladder?"

"Me, you nitwit," Harry said goodhearted. "Like it could ever carry you and your fat ass."

"It ain't fat – it's muscles," Brutus protested.

"Yeah right, Mr. haven't-been-a-fit-quarterback-since-you-were-thirty. Now don't just stand there, come and help!"

Brutus scoffed, but finally grabbed the ladder from the other side and helped pushing.

"Where do we start?" he asked.

"The execution room," Harry responded. "Where we saw it disappear yesterday."

"Paul wants it clean before we put the chairs up for tonight," Percy said, panting as they carried the ladder down the hallway to the execution room. He sounded more exited than he had done in days, by the prospect on being able to kill an innocent creature. "He thinks it's nesting in the air holes."

Brutus snorted with disbelief.

"That mouse's smarter than any of us," he muttered. "It ain't waiting in an air hole, for us to find it."

"It's a stupid vermin," Percy sneered. "It's not like it can make plans, dumbass."

Even though his words pocked his anger, Brutus ignored him; Ellie was in the next room and he wasn't sure she could forgive another confrontation.

"Watch your mouth, Percy," he said coolly instead. "I'm still higher than you, whether you like it or not." You little piece of shit…

They could finally maneuver the big ladder into the execution room and placed it up against the wall. Percy didn't have the patience to wait for them the search through every single air holes. He left them and went on his own one-man mission in the execution room, his hickory bat already out of it's holster, so he could smack the poor creature, when he found it.

Brutus and Harry exchanged looks.

"He's a bit eager to kill that thing, ain't he?" Brutus muttered.

"It's not just the mouse," Harry mumbled back. "He's been going on about Bitterbucks execution the entire morning. He's as exited about it, as a little boy before Christmas Eve."

Brutus shook his head. "Hopefully we're gonna pick that out of him tonight."

Harry just shrugged and started climbing.

They spent the rest of the morning searching high and low in the execution room. When they returned from the break, Percy had given up and the only hiding place left was the big ventilation shaft behind the chair, nearly ten or eleven feet off the ground, just below the roof.

Brutus and Harry both cast a sidelong glance at the rickety ladder.

"Well…"Harry began.

"Oh, don't tell me you're gonna chicken out now," Brutus teased. "It's just a tiny bit higher than the airholes…"

"Yeah, not more than five feet," Harry said dryly. "You know what? I think it's your turn now."

"After you called me fat? Forget it!"

"I could do it," came Ellie's soft voice from the doorway. Both men turned around and stared at her.

"You?" Harry repeated. "But… Wait, that's actually not a bad idea. Miss Brent is the smallest and lightest of us all…"

"Now, wait a minute," Brutus interfered nervously, shifting his gaze at her. "That's not a good idea! That ladder is an old piece of shit. It has been repaired a dozen times. It's not safe."

"Don't recall you being so anxious, when I was the on the ladder," Harry noticed, sounding offended.

"I…" Brutus began, before realizing that he couldn't come up with a proper answer, that didn't make him sound like a male chauvinist. Or an overprotective fool in love…

Harry took advantage of his hesitation and waved Ellie closer.

"Listen," he said, patting the ladder. "You jus' have to crawl up and look through the slats. I'll go get a screwdriver, 'case we'll need it to get the grate down."

He left.

Brutus cleared his throat and made and awkward gesture towards the steps. "Ready when you are…"

Ellie just smiled and started climbing, nimble like cat. It didn't took her long, before she was at the top – and Brutus' eyes widened.

He hadn't noticed it before now, but she was bare-legged under the dress. Very, very bare-legged… She wasn't wearing her thighs and that meant…

Oh, merciful God…

He swallowed and tried to look anywhere else, but it was suddenly impossible. With pounding heart and the same joyfully feeling of guilt like a little boy staring at the pretty girl sunbathing in the garden next door, his gaze left her ankles and slowly moved its way up her slim calves.

God, you're pathetic, he told himself, but he still couldn't take his eyes of her naked legs. They were the nicest pair he had seen in a long time. If he leaned just a bit to the right, he could see all the way up to the soft skin on the inside of her thighs…

"He's not in here," Ellie called from above and he hastily removed his gaze, his cheeks glowing like irons. She looked down at him.

"Not even a crumb. But you have a pretty amount of dust balls, who is about to start a new career as tumbleweeds."

"That doesn't surprise me," he said, staring at the floor and babbling. "Don't think it's been cleaned in there, since the Great War. Or last winter – something like that."

She chuckled, as Harry walked in, not looking satisfied.

"Couldn't find it," he growled. "Guess we'll jus' have to do without it."

"It's okay, Mr. Terwilliger," Ellie said and the ladder shook slightly, as she started to climb down again. "I could peek through the slats. He's not in there."

Brutus turned to Harry, something he immediately regretted. The older guard shifted his gaze from Ellie and raised his eyebrows at Brutus, giving him a clearly crooked smile. Nice view?

"Shut up," Brutus mouthed, his ears glowing as he stepped back, so Ellie could get down.

Fortunately, he didn't have to listen to Harry's teasing. Ellie had barely touched the floor before Paul came bursting in, a strange and slightly bewildered look on his face.

"You need to see this," he said, his voice sounding odd, as though he didn't know whether to laugh or not. "You're not gonna believe it…"

oOo

The Mile was echoing with the sound of laughter – a quite strange noise in a place dominated with death – as they walked down the aisle behind Paul. Brutus met Ellie's eyes and she smiled by the sound.

Paul led them to the cell of Delacroix and they crowded at the bars. The little Frenchman looked out at them, his eyes shining with glee and they all gaped.

The mouse was sitting on his shoulder, calm like a tiny, furry parrot.

"Look," Delacroix said, his voice shaky with laughter. "I done tame meh dat mouse."

"You sure have," Paul said slowly.

"Watch," Delacroix said with a sparkle in his eyes. "Watch dis. Watch was 'e do."

He gently picked up the mouse with his good hand and stretched out his arm. The mouse scurried all the way up his forearm, crawled behind his neck and finally sat down in his still bandaged palm. Delacroix laughed like a little boy and the guards stared.

"Ain't he sumpting now?" Delacroix asked softly and slightly proud. "Ain't Mr. Jingles smart?"

"Mr. Jingles?" Paul repeated.

"Dat 'is name. He whisper it in my ear." Delacroix smiled at the mouse and said: "Hey, cap'n. Can I have a box for my mouse? So he can sleep in 'ere wi' me?"

"I notice your English gets better, when you want something?" Paul said, his eyes on the mouse, as though he couldn't quite believe it.

Delacroix raised his brows. "Wanna see what els' he can do? Hmm? Watch, watch…" He held the mouse in both hand and said in a low voice: "Wanna play fetch? Wanna play fetch, Mr. Jingles?"

He placed the mouse on the floor and picked up an old wooden spool. The mouse stood up on its hind legs, already looking excited as Delacroix held the spool over its head. He tossed it. The spool bounced back of the wall and the mouse went after it, like a dog chasing a stick. When the mouse reached it, it started to roll the spool back with its front legs.

"Sweet Jesus…" Harry mumbled and scratched the back of his head

"He fetch it ev'ry time," Delacroix said, a grin splitting his face in two. "Ev'ry time…"

"That some smart mouse, Del," came a deep rumbled from across the hall. Brutus turned around and saw John Coffey standing at the bars of his cell, watching the show like the rest of them. "Like a circus mouse or something."

Delacroix clasped his hands in delight. "A circus mouse! Dat jus' what 'e is, John! And when I get outta here, 'e's gonna make me rich and…"

His voice died. Brutus saw the smile disappear from his face, like someone had smacked him and in the sudden silence they could all hear the squeaky sound from Percy's shoes.

"Well, well," the young guard drawled. "Look like you found yourself a new friend there, Del?"

Delacroix picked up the mouse and its toy and held it against his chest. He swallowed.

"Please, don't hurt 'im," he said quietly.

Percy looked at the mouse, like a cat would stare at a canary. "Ain't that the one I chased?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Paul responded calmly. "Del says his name is Mr. Jingles."

Percy crooked his head. "Is that so?"

"Del is asking for a box," Paul continued. "He thinks the mouse will sleep in it, I guess. Might keep it for a pet."

Percy kept looking at the mouse and Brutus could feel Ellie shift uneasily by his side, like she feared the young guard might lunged for both the tiny Frenchman and his new companion. He couldn't blame her.

"You know what?" Percy finally said, almost thoughtfully. "We oughtta find a cigar box. Get some cotton batting from the infirmary." He nodded to himself. "Yeah, that should do real nice."

He walked of, leaving them all dumbfounded.

"Is he… sick?" Brutus said

"Worse," Harry mumbled. "He was nice."

Paul just looked at them. "Well, you heard him: The man said, get a cigar box…"

oOo

Brutus and Dean were sent of to hunt down a cigar box and Ellie the cotton filling. Paul told her to look in the cabinet in the execution room, where they had a small stocking of everything and nothing, before asking in the infirmary.

On the bottom shelf she found some cotton cloth, she figured no one would miss. They were old, but clean and soft and she was sure that both Delacroix and Mr. Jingles would be pleased.

She turned around to leave – but was startled by Percy in the door.

"Oh, blimey," she breathed out; she hadn't heard him come in. "You scared me."

Percy didn't answer, not at first that was.

"So you think it's a good idea then?" he asked.

Ellie frowned. "About the mouse?"

"Yeah," Percy said and met her eyes. Ellie felt like she was staring into the empty eyeholes of a mask.

"Why shouldn't I?" she asked.

Percy shrugged and looked around in the room, before fixing his eyes on Ellie again.

"I was just wondering," he said slowly. "Since you're a nurse, you must know how much a health risk a mouse represents in a place like this. Surely you don't have mice running around at the hospital, right?"

"No," Ellie said faintly. "Of course not."

"But of course," Percy said, a smooth smile finding its way to his lips. "Del's already lost his heart to it, so it would be horrific to get rid of it now, even though it's gonna question your professional judgment."

Ellie said nothing, because she didn't know what to respond.

"But to be honest," Percy continued, slowly twisting the hickory bat in its holster. "I'm a bit disappointed: I never though you would risk the health of both inmates and employers, just to make one guy happy. A guy who, in case you forgot, raped a girl and killed several people. But perhaps that's just what we can expect from you…"

He smiled and left and Ellie could feel herself flush from anger and shame, as she stood all alone and flabbergasted in the execution room.

But it wasn't because of his words.

It was because she knew he was right.