First day of spring! And this story has nearly had 5200 views, since I started it :D Thanks a lot for all your kind response to this story, especially Innocently Insidious, WinnieBoo, witchbaby300, samantha01 and the rest of you wonderful people, who keeps coming back, ignores by stupid grammar mistakes and reviews my (slow) progress :)

Thought I was going to present Will Bill in this chapter, but I had to move him to the next one, because this one was already too long :P

Chapter 15 – Just a dream…

She's in the execution room. It's empty. Silent. Or so she thinks.

"Looking for someone?" he says in his soft, husky voice behind her.

She turns and the chair is behind her and he is sitting on it: Legs apart, resting his elbows on his knees, a crooked, daring smile on his face. He has the sponge in one of his big hands, which doesn't quite make any sense, but of course, this is a dream, so sense is not a part of it…

She closes the distance between them with just a few steps. Her heart is hammering.

Brutus looks up at her, as she walks up the platform and the tiny elevation feels like a mountain, but finally she's there and she gently places her hands on his strong jaw…

She kisses him, like she has never kissed any man before and she hears the sponge fall from his hand, with a surprisingly loud clonk. He is palming her thigh, sliding his big hand up under her dress and she can't seem to be close enough to him, before he puts his arm around in a tight embrace and pulls her to his chest. So close, she can fell the vibration of the purring from his torso… Wait – what?

A sharp noise splintered Ellie's dream. She opened her eyes and found herself staring right into the bright, golden glare of Nansen. The cat meowed again. He had curled up on the duvet, like a laying hen, looking very comfortable; his purring was so loud, he could drown out a tiny car engine. Ellie stroke his soft fur and cast a sleepily glare at the clock on the bedside table. No need to get back to sleep: The alarm would go of in fifteen minutes anyway.

"Some timing you have, Nansen," she yawned, stretching. Nansen jumped to the floor and rubbed himself around her legs as she got out of bed, still purring like he was going for the world record.

It wasn't until she reached the closet, that she discovered the source to the weird clonking sound in her dream.

"Aw, Nansen – you little rascal."

The rug underneath the window was smeared with soil and broken leaves. In his eagerness to find a way into her bedroom, the cat had probably headbutted the window open, knocking one of the plants to the floor.

She gave the feline a resigned look, as she closed the window. "Well, your owners warned me, didn't they?"

Nansen purred an answer; his amber eyes half closed.

Ellie kneeled. The thick rug had saved the pot, but the plant had lost a branch. She carefully put it back on the sill, reminding herself of telling her landlady when she had the chance.

The sun rose and filled her combined bed- and living room with warm, golden light, while she got dressed. And still not a single cloud in sight; it would be another day in weather-hell.

Ellie slumped onto her bed and felt back with a sigh. Nansen jumped up next to her and Ellie buried her fingers in his soft fur and closed her eyes, listening to his soft purring.

The dream returned, as if it had just been lurking in the shadows of her unconsciousness and she did nothing to stop it. On the contrary, she recalled it, until she could almost feel his arms around her, his hand on her skin, his lips against hers…

The alarm went off like a scream in the silence. Ellie jumped, her heart racing and her cheeks flushing of embarrassment. She rubbed her face, forcing the image away.

Why are you doing this to yourself? You and him – it's never going to happen…

"Oh, shut it…" she mumbled to the voice of sanity, as she rolled on to her side to kill the alarm.

oOo

The atmosphere was quiet and tense, when Ellie opened the door to E-block a couple of hours later and the sight of the empty cell of Arlen Bitterbuck made the heart cringed in her chest.

"G'mornin', miss Brent," Bill Dodge greeted her in a slightly low voice; he was the only one sitting at the front desk.

"Good morning, Mr. Dodge."

"I'm glad ya here. Paul wanna talk to you, if you're not to busy. It's about…" He felt silent and nodded towards Alice's cell. Ellie followed his glare; the old woman was lying on her bunk, her back turned against them. She didn't move.

"She's been like that, since the execution," Bill mumbled.

Ellie bit her lower lip. "Is Mr. Edgecomb in his office?"

"He's in the execution room, miss, cleaning up after yesterday."

Paul and Dean were stacking the chairs, where the witnesses had been seated the night before and even though they had the doors wide open, there was still a weak smell of burned flesh in the air.

"Miss Brent, good morning," Paul said, when he spotted her in the doorway. "Have you been talking to Bill?"

Ellie nodded, wishing this conversation could take place in his office instead. Mainly because the smell and the thought of what had happened in here last night, gave her an uneasy feeling. But also because the room made her realize, that the dream was still mocking her from her subconscious. It was truly a strange dream, when she thought about – on the verge of being slightly disturbing. The crazy symbolism of making out with someone in the execution chair would make any psychologists clap their hands in joy. Especially if they knew, that besides the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, she could sense something lighter and warmer spreading in her entire body, because the chair reminded her of Brutus' dreamlips against hers…

Oh my… That's it: This place has officially turned me mental…

"Perhaps you should talk to her," Paul said in a serious tone and wiped his pale, sweaty face and hands in his handkerchief. "I think the execution of Bitterbuck jolted her a bit. Even though she wasn't there, it's always difficult the first time, when the lights flashes and you know someone is being killed on the other side of the wall."

"I will," Ellie said. "Is she allowed to go to the yard? I think the sun and fresh air would do her good too."

Paul nodded and crooked a finger at Dean, who had already pulled out his keys. When the younger guard had left, Paul leaned against the stack of chairs, rubbing his forehead.

"Mr. Edgecomb," Ellie said indulgently, "don't you think it's about time you went to see the doctor?"

"God, you sound like my wife," Paul said with a snort and she smiled. "But I can please you too, by telling you, that I am actually gonna visit the doctor today. Happy?"

"Yes."

But Paul didn't look satisfied at all. To be honest, he looked more somber, than in actual pain.

"Mr. Edgecomb?" Ellie said softly.

He sighed. "Hal Moores wife is sick. The doctors found a tumor on her brain, too deep to operate on. They say, she'll be dead before Christmas."

"Oh, no," Ellie said silently. She had never met Mrs. Moores, but she like the warden. He had been very kind to her, since her arrival and she felt like she owed him a great deal: He had never tried to stop her from following Alice to the prison.

"Don't tell anyone outside of E-Block," Paul said. "He hates the pity."

"Of course," Ellie promised. "I won't."

oOo

Alice was far from her usual self. When Ellie asked, if she would like to join her for a walk in the yard, she rose from her bunk without a word and followed her and Dean outside. She didn't even comment on Ellie's bare legs; not even a significant glance in her direction and she was almost as pale as Paul, but when Ellie asked her how she felt, she swept her concern aside with a quick hand movement.

"Alice," Ellie said gently, when the door slammed behind them and the dusty air stroke their skin. "Are there something you want? I could ask the guards for you."

"Let us just walk," Alice responded faintly and took her arm.

They paced slowly along the fence. Ellie was chewing on the inside of her chin, trying to come up with a good way to start the conversation, but she found none. So she decided to jump right into it.

"Mr. Edgecomb told me everything went smoothly last night," she said. "I was very glad to hear that."

"Yes," Alice just said.

"Alice, I know how hard it can be, when you are suddenly faced with death, so if there's anything, you want to talk about…"

"Let's sit," Alice interrupted in that funny, weak voice that didn't sound like hers at all. They had reached the other end of the yard, where someone had placed a lonely bench – which to be honest was just a plank on top of two stumps. Ellie sat down next to her, feeling slightly useless.

She was a nurse, not a psychologist. She knew how to comfort and calm people down, not remove their misery and heal their broken soul.

A movement at the door stole her attention for a second; Paul and Brutus had replaced Dean and the sight of the tall guard, made Ellies heart skip a beat.

Brutus must had sensed her glance, because he turned his head towards her and smiled and Ellie, who had never thought of herself as shy, found herself blushing and smiling back at the buttons on his uniform jacket like an awkward school girl.

Inside she gave herself a mental facepalm.

With a silent sigh she shifted her eyes to Alice, who was still staring through the fence without really seeing anything.

"Do you want to go inside again?" Ellie asked her.

"No," Alice said meekly. "I just need…"

She didn't finish her sentence. Instead she got up from the bench, took a few steps towards the fence – then her entire body stiffened up and she started to sway, where she was standing. Ellie jumped to her feet and grabbed her on her way down.

"Mr. Edgecomb!" she cried, as Alice collapsed against her.

Alice was twisting and jerking by her side, her entire body cramped and her hands clenched into fists. From her mouth came a horrified, choking sound. Ellie pulled Alice against her, to keep her on her side and raised her chin, to ease her breathing.

The men finally arrived and dropped to their knees, Paul on the other side of Alice and Brutus beside Ellie. Paul seized the old woman's arms.

"No, don't restrain her," Ellie told him. "Just hold her up, so she stays on her side."

Paul looked slightly confused, but stayed on his knees beside Alice, so she couldn't roll onto her back.

"Brutus, I need your jacket," Ellie said, still gently holding her chin up. "To support her head."

Brutus half-rose beside her and slid of his uniform jacket. He folded it and stuck it under Alice's head, which was jerking back and striking the ground.

"Should I get the doctor?" Paul asked.

"Yes and tell him to bring a stretcher. She needs to get to the infirmary."

Paul nodded and switched place with Brutus, before running back to the block. Alice was still cramped and jolting, but not as violently as before and Ellie stroke her hair.

"It's okay," she said in a low voice. "You're going to be okay. We're here…"

"Shouldn't we put something in her mouth?" Brutus asked worryingly. "To prevent her from biting her tongue or something?"

"We would do more harm than good, by trying to force her jaws open," Ellie said. "Her muscles are locked. And she could choke on whatever item we put in her mouth, in case she vomits."

The seizure was over in nothing more than a minute of two, but it felt like hours, before Alice's body finally became limp with a shudder and Ellie could put her in the recovery position, while they waited for the doctor to come.

"Is she okay?" Brutus asked.

"She's unconscious, but I think she's okay." She felt her pulse. "I've seen worse."

"It's looked like she was…" Brutus began, before he suddenly stopped himself, looking slightly guilty.

"… being electrified," Ellie finished softly. "Yes, it does look violent, but mostly the victims will be just fine afterwards."

He looked up at her. "And you? Are you okay?"

She smiled and nodded.

Her stomach made a sudden jolt, when he reached out and gently grabbed her hand, which was resting on Alice's shoulder. His palm was warm and pleasantly rough and her hand disappeared completely in his. Ellie felt the blood rise to her cheeks like boiling water in a kettle.

"You're shaking," he said gently.

"It's just the adrenaline kicking in," she responded meekly. "I'm fine, really."

He smiled his lopsided, half-shy smile and when he let go of her hand again, Ellie found herself desperately wishing he hadn't.

oOo

Alice's had hardly regain conscious, before doctor Briscoe gave her something sedative that made her go right back to sleep. Not knowing what else to do, Ellie left the infirmary and went back to E-block, which she found surprisingly empty.

She joined Brutus and Paul in Paul's office, were they had already sat down to eat lunch.

"Where are all the others?" she asked, as Brutus handed her a wrapped sandwich.

"They're picking up the new prisoner," Paul said. "They won't be back until this afternoon."

"That's right." Ellie slumped down on the nearest vacant chair. "I had forgotten all about that."

His name was William Wharton and his paper had told them, that he was going to be every guards nightmare: 19 years old and already cold as an Alaskan winter. He had robbed banks for years, killing several people, including a pregnant lady, before finally getting caught in a holdup.

"How's Alice's?" Brutus asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"She's sleeping. I hope I will get a chance to talk to her tomorrow."

"You think her seizure had something to do with the execution yesterday?" Paul asked.

"It might," Ellie said slowly. "But everything could be a trigger: Bright light, lack of sleep, hunger, illness…"

She felt silent, suddenly remembering her encounter with Percy.

Paul frowned. "Miss Brent?"

She raised her head.

"I have been thinking about Delacroix's mouse," she said quietly. "You sure it's a good idea to keep it here? Mice carry all sorts of diseases."

Brutus looked like she had just expressed a desire to sacrifice the mouse to Percy.

"You want us to get rid of it?" Paul asked in astonishment.

No! "I… It's just… It could be a health risk. Percy… Mr. Wetmore… says the same thing."

Brutus looked utterly bewildered. "Percy? You agree with Percy?"

"Wasn't Percy the one, who found a box for the damn thing?" Paul asked. "Boy, that kid is changeable like the wild wind."

"Geez, Louise," Brutus muttered and happened to glare at the clock above Paul's door, when he shook his head in disbelief. "Shit, I have to go. I promised Bill I'd be at the infirmary by lunchtime."

He left in a hurry. Paul looked at Ellie.

"You really mean that?" he asked in a low voice.

Ellie swallowed.

"Listen, I know it's harsh," she said, "but they are vermin. They carry diseases like Weil's syndrome and Tularemia, who can be lethal, even for healthy individuals."

"I don't think a man, who has less than a month back of his life worries about that," Paul said indulgently.

Ellie smiled faintly. "I'm not just concerned about Delacroix. It could as easily infect the guards and spread to the rest of the prison. Mr. Wetmore says so too."

Paul gave her a long glare, before blurting out: "Has he threatened you?"

She laughed in bewilderment. "Excuse me?"

"Forgive me, miss Brent," Paul said firmly. "But you don't even believe a word, of what you're saying yourself. What's the matter? What has Percy said to you?"

Ellie felt her smile faint. She looked away, her mouth suddenly dry.

"He said I was unprofessional," she muttered and couldn't meet his eyes.

Paul wrinkled his brows. "He called you that?"

"Well, he insinuated it. But the point is, he's right: I would never have allowed a mouse in the hospital, not even if the patient begged me."

"Of course not," Paul said softly. "Because this is not a hospital. Far from. This is a dark place, with its own set of rules. We keep men alive, so we can kill them when we finally get the order and in the meantime, we have to fight our own battle to stay sane. So when something innocent and real from the outside world peaks in, we greet it with open arms. Even when it's just a silly, little mouse, who can spin a spool like a circus elephant."

Ellie could fell a slow, careful smile spreading across her lips.

"And your not unprofessional," Paul continued warmly. "Take it from someone who has just seen you in action in the yard. You are a very passionate, first-class nurse with a good heart."

Ellie looked down in embarrassment.

"I don't want you to get rid of Mr. Jingles," she said. "I really like having him here – and I know how much Delacroix loves him."

"I figured that much," Paul said with a smile.

Ellie rose from her chair and picked up the used plates. Brutus had forgotten his uniform jacket, which was still dusty from Alice's seizure. Ellie touched the fabric and smiled by herself.

"When is Brutus coming back?" she asked.

"Oh, sometime this afternoon. He promised, he'll help in the infirmary all day."

"He's not married, is he?"

"Nope."

"So he lives all by himself?"

"Yes," Paul said softly and she could fell his eyes on her. "Well, he has a dog, but there's no one special in his life. Why'd you ask?"

Ellie shrugged and tried what she hoped was a casual smile. "Just wondering…"

oOo

Brutus rubbed his shoulder with a grimace, as he walked his way back to E-block that afternoon. Thank God moving the infirmary wasn't a permanent job, he though while turning around a corner, because it was hard as hell…

He collided with someone one the other side of the building: A tiny figure that ran directly into him and he grabbed whoever it was, before they stumbled back, without even thinking.

When his brain finally caught up with the rest of his body and he recognized her, his heart stopped. For a staggering second he was sure he was dreaming. Because it was Ellie he held in his arms…

The sweet moment was short, though. She looked up at him and when he saw her eyes, wide and dark with fear, he instantly knew that something was completely wrong.

"Brutus!" she gasped. "William Wharton is killing Dean!"