Hang on to your hat now! I think I can catch a glimpse of Brutus' long lost courage :P

And if you're celebrating it then: Happy Easter :)

Chapter 18 – That's what friends are for

Paul handed her the file across the table with a grave expression on his face. Ellie hesitated, before taking it from his hand.

"It's the date, isn't it?" she asked quietly, clutching the light brown cardboard-file with both hands.

"Yes," Paul responded softly. "The 9th of October. Three weeks from now."

Ellie cleared her throat. "I should go tell her. She's been waiting for this day, since we got here."

"How is she, anyway?" Paul asked. "Is she all right? Did they figure out what caused the seizure?"

"No one really knows," Ellie admitted. "Doctor Briscoe says it could be anything. And Alice is not helping: She says she's fine, but I can see she's not."

"Well, perhaps you could both use a good, long talk when she returns to the Mile today," Paul said calmly. Ellie nodded to herself, but she wasn't even sure that a talk, no matter how long it was, would help anything.

"When is Delacroix's execution?" she asked.

"Tuesday next week," Paul responded.

"Paul, if it's not too much to ask for…" Ellie began slowly. "Do you think Alice could be removed from E-block during the execution?"

Paul gave her a long look. "You think the execution had something to do with her seizure?"

"I don't know," Ellie lied, even though she was quite sure that the death of Arlen Bitterbuck was to blame for the seizure. It might sound strange that death could have such an impact on a convicted murderess, but Alice was not a heartless woman. She feared death as much as the next one. And when you stayed at E-block, death was always there, slumbering in the shadows – and there were nowhere you could hide. How could that not affect you?

"I tell you what," Paul said. "If Alice agrees, I could arrange an overnight stay at the infirmary. You know: Further examinations, if anyone ask."

Ellie smiled. "Thanks, Paul."

"Don't mention it." He made a gesture towards the closed door. "I will release you now: Dean must be ready."

Alice had been discharged from the infirmary, but before they brought her back, Ellie had finally persuaded Paul into letting her help out in the infirmary. It was just for a couple of hours, but she was looking forward to it. It was a great chance to gain new experiences – even though she was going to be guarded by Dean and Percy, who were already in the infirmary.

Dean was waiting for her at the front desk. The guards were enjoying the quiet afternoon (Wharton had an hour in the yard with some of the floaters), reading newspapers and playing cards, when she left the office.

Dean looked up. "You ready, miss Brent?"

"How long ya gonna stay at the infirmary?" Brutus asked her, putting his newspaper aside.

"Until the shift ends. I think it was nine o'clock."

He frowned. "There's no bus leaving after eight, you know that, right?"

She smiled. "I know. Doctor Briscoe will drive me home."

"Oh…" He caught the eyes of Paul in the door; his superior was smirking. "That's… nice of him."

"It is. So I'm saying goodnight now. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Brute," Paul interfered innocently. "Maybe you should pay the infirmary a visit later too. I mean, if your rib's still troubling you."

"It doesn't…" Brutus began in a haste, but Ellie looked at him worryingly: "What's wrong with you rib?"

"Brutal had an encounter with Wharton yesterday," Paul said on his behalf, before Brutus had a chance to answer. "We were afraid he might have broken something, but he doesn't want to have it checked out."

Brutus reddened, realising what Paul was up to. He wanted to have Ellie examine him. Merciful God, just the thought of Ellie touching him, was enough to make his blood rush to all the wrong places…

"It's not broken," he told Paul firmly. "It don' even hurt anymore. There no need for a check-up."

The last one was an outright lie: The ache had been worse, but it still hurt. He had been kept up half the night, unable to find a painless sleeping position.

Paul looked at him, his forehead slightly frowned.

"Well, if you're sure," Ellie said slowly. "But promise me, you'll go to the infirmary, if it gets worse."

"I will," Brutus said, looking away from her. She left. Brutus, who could sense the significant looks from both Paul and Harry, rose to his feet, snapped the clipboard and started walking the round among the prisoners. He had hardly reached John Coffeys cell, when Paul joined him.

"What's wrong?" he asked silently. "That was the perfect opportunity to talk to her alone."

"I'm not hurt," Brutus insisted stubbornly and crossed the aisle. Paul followed him.

"Ellie's not gonna be here forever, you know," he said. "If you wanna ask her out, you better move your big ass, before she leaves for good."

"I'm not gonna ask her out," Brutus said hardly, hoping that would put an end to that case. It didn't…

"Why?" Paul continued. "I thought you liked her?"

"I do," Brutus said in a quiet, hoarse tone. "God, you have no idea…"

"Then what the hell is holding you back?"

"It's…" Brutus began, but the words failed him. "It's complicated, okay?"

"Complicated!" Paul exclaimed. "You have been head-over-heels in love with Ellie, since she got here. There's nothing God damned complicated about that."

"Paul, just… let it go!"

In his umbrageous state of mind, Brutus didn't realise they were standing right in front of Delacroix' cell, until the Frenchman started moving on his bunk, all ears.

"That's true?" he said, popping himself up on his elbows. "You hot for Mad'moisel' Brent, boss Howell?"

Brutus shot his superior a resentfully glare. Thanks a lot…

"That's none of yer business, Del," he growled at the tiny Frenchman, but Delacroix ignored him completely.

"You know what will melt her heart?" he said. "Flowers. Tournesols."

"Tourne-what?"

"Sunflowers," Delacroix said with a sly smile. "That's 'er favori."

Brutus stared at him. "How the hell do you know that?"

"Becas' I talk to 'er," Delacroix responded and he could might as well has added a 'dumbass' to that sentence, because that was exactly what his tone indicated.

"I talk to her too," Brutus defended himself and Harry gave a scoff of laughter from behind the desk.

"You can't say two words to that girl, without blushing like a school boy," he said. "Hell, you wouldn't even let her check out your injury."

"Because there's nothing wrong with me," Brutus snapped back.

Harry chuckled. "You just won't let her see the weaker side of you."

Brutus walked down the aisle and tossed the clipboard on the desk. Harry winced back.

"Just leave me alone," Brutus said gloomily. "Both of you."

oOo

They found him in execution room a couple of minutes later. He was polishing Old Sparky with ragingly movements and a very dark look on his face.

"What now?" he growled, hardly looking to there side.

"What's the matter with you?" Paul asked him. "What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid," Brutus said bluntly and kept rubbing the armrest.

"Yes, you are. It's the rejection, isn't it? If she doesn't reciprocate your feelings…"

"I'm not afraid!"

"… and says no? Hell, Brutus, no one has ever died from being rejected, but you're gonna regret for the rest of your life, if you doesn't ask her."

Brutus rose to his feet.

"Why the hell can't you just stay out of it?!" he cried out indignantly. "Nothing is ever gonna happen between Ellie and me! Her life has hardly begun and I'm already too old for this goddamned job!"

He tossed the cloth back in the wax-bucket, knocking it over. The metal bucket clattered down the platform, before finally laying still by Paul's feet. He looked up at Brutus.

"Alright, this might be a wild guess," he said dryly. "But is it the age different that had gotten the best of you?"

Brutus ran a hand down his face; his ribs hurt again.

"She's too young for me," he mumbled.

Harry snorted. "She's twenty-six."

"And I'm forty-three!" Brutus snapped back, a little harder than he intended. "That's seventeen years of difference."

"So? She's no kid – she's a grown woman."

"Exactly," Brutus said darkly. "So she should be sensible enough to realise, that I'm not a horse worth putting your money on."

"Oh, will you please stop playing the martyr," Harry growled at him. "Ellie likes you, end of story. We've all seen how she looks at you. It's the same looks my wife gives John Barrymore, every time we walked past the theatre."

Brutus was ready to protest, when Paul joined in:

"And she asked me questions about your marital status," he said gently. "You don't do that, if you're not interested."

"And what'd ya say?" Brutus asked, trying so sound like he didn't cared a hang about the answer.

"I told her you're gay," Paul responded, with the most deadpan expression he could muster.

"Wha-… Like hell you didn't!" Brutus exclaimed, but it was very hard to stay offended, when both of his co-workers broke down with laughter and all he wanted was to take part in the joy. He had been friends with Paul and Harry for a long time. They wouldn't lie about something like that. But the thought about Ellie having feelings for him, was almost too good to be true.

"Aw, come on, Brutal," Harry said, wiping tears from his eyes. "Ask her out, for crying out loud! And even if pigs start to fly and she says no, that's not gonna be the end of the world: She'll be outa here in three weeks and you'll never see her again."

"I don't know…" Brutus began slowly. "I don't even know where we should go?"

"I was thinking that carnival in Baton Rouge next week," Paul said. "Me and the misses gonna be there to. Preventing you from making a complete fool out of yourself."

Brutus pulled a face at him. "Har har…"

Paul smiled. "That didn't sound like a 'no' to me. So you're gonna do it?"

Brutus hesitated.

"What about Percy?" he mumbled.

Paul glared at him. "Percy?"

"Yearh, you said he wanted to ask her out. Aren't there something going on between those two?"

"What? I've never said that. Barry is the one, who wants to ask her out." He chuckled. "You really thought that? She can't even stand Percy."

"Well, she seemed surprisingly eager to please him, when we talked about Del's mouse," Brutus said quietly.

"Sure she was," Paul said dryly. "He gave her the impression, that she would be a horrible nurse, if she let the mouse stay. She was crushed. What else could she do?"

Brutus said nothing. He was fighting a sudden urge to smile sheepishly. So Percy was out of the game. And Barry… surely, he was a fine looking man, but he was smarmy like a piece of soap and even though Ellie was always kind and polite towards him, her voice missed the sincere warmth when she talked to him, that Brutus had fallen in love with.

Now, take it easy, okay. Just because she's not interested in Percy or Barry, doesn't mean she's gonna be all over you…

His stomach twisted. If she said no… He couldn't even bear to finish that thought.

"So?" Paul said, a smile playing on his lips. "What'ya say?"

"Well, I don't have anything to lose, have I?" Brutus answered, trying to sound casual, but his voice came out all hoarse with nervousness.

"That's the spirit, Brute." Paul patted his shoulder with a wide smile. "Ask her out tomorrow. Or I swear to God, I'm gonna do it for you."

Brutus just nodded. He wasn't sure his voice could drown out the violent flapping of the butterflies in his stomach anyway.

oOo

Brutus still felt slightly nauseated, when he left E-block that night. It was a hot night, but the air felt sultry and to the west the sky darkened every second. It would be another night with heavy rain and thunder, no doubt. Brutus crossed the parking lot, his mind wandering.

It was ridiculous, he knew it, but he kept imagine all kind of weird scenarios of her rejecting him. He even had a minor panic attack, when he thought about what to wear, if she said yes. He hadn't been on a proper date in years; pretty much every item in his closet was out of fashion. It wouldn't surprise him, if the rules of dating had been change completely and he would just stand there like an old fool, not knowing what to do, when…

He had almost reached his car, when a voice interrupted his thoughts; a warm, female and very familiar voice: "Hi, Brutus. Going home?"

His heart pounding so hard, it was almost laughable, he turned around. Behind him, next to doctor Briscoe's car, Ellie smiled at him.

By the mother of God, he wasn't ready for this. He had just resigned to the idea, that he had an entire night to practice his asking-Ellie-out speech – not half a minute!

"Hi," he said breathlessly. "I… uh… Yes, I am. Shouldn't you have been home by now?"

"There was a suicide attempt over at B-block just as we left," Ellie responded. "Doctor Briscoe had to go back to the infirmary, until his replacement shows up. He told me to wait here, so I guess he'll be back soon."

"You sure? These things usually take a while?"

Ellie looked back at B-block thoughtfully, but before she could response, someone walked through the gates, calling her name:

"Miss Brent!"

It was one of the young medics – Brutus just knew him by appearance, not name – and he looked slightly out of breath when he reached them.

"Doctor Briscoe's replacement has been a bit delayed," he said, addressing Ellie. "It will take another half an hour or so, before he returns. But you can wait in the infirmary, if you want, 'till the doctor's finish."

"That's probably for the best," Ellie said, looking up at the sky. "I think there's a storm coming."

"Or I could drive you home," Brutus blurted out.

He wasn't sure who seemed most surprised by that statement: Ellie, the medic – or himself.

"But that's a huge detour for you, Brutus…" Ellie began.

"I will be more than happy to do it," he responded sincerely. She looked up at him, a smile on her lips and for a moment the only thing that kept him for just following the cry of his heart and kiss her, was the medic.

"Thank you, Brutus," she said gently. "That would be nice."