In the first couple of weeks, Erik clung to Lyle as his shadow, like he always had and haunted his rear. Wouldn't eat, barely drunk water and jumped at every yell, bang and crash which happened virtually every 20 seconds in jail. He was losing weight and starting to smell.
Worse - he wouldn't stop crying. Lyle had to protect him dozens of times already from someone who wanted to push Erik around (like steal his food which he didn't want anyway but that wasn't the point) and saw him as an easy mark.
After one such incident, Lyle grabbed his brother forcefully by one arm and dragged him to their cell during recreation time. He badly needed to try to shake some sense in him. 'You can't cry at every tiny thing in front of the others.' He shook him in frustration. 'I can't have your back 24/7! They already look down on us as spoilt rich kids who killed their parents for their money!'
'Only because they don't know why!' Erik wailed.
'And we aren't ever going to tell them!' Lyle grabbed Erik by the shoulders and eyeballed his little brother. 'Are we?'
'No…' Erik agreed then looked down but then cried, 'But I can't…I can't…take it here anymore!'
'Tough.' Then Lyle softened. 'Bro, we can't show weakness in here.' He grabbed him by the top of his arms and squeezed them hard to make his point.
'Ow!'
Lyle let him go and sighed. 'You need to grow up, Erik, and stand up for yourself like a man. You're not a kid anymore, sweetheart.'
Sometimes he called him by names like Erik was his girl but he saved them for when his brother was practically inconsolable. You would have thought they would remind him of their dad's insults but the opposite was true. They seemed to comfort him and besides, it was their little secret.
Erik was his girl.
Then he confessed to something that froze the blood in his older brother's veins.
'I'm scared to go in the showers, alright!' Erik wept, thin chest hitching up and down, his sexy model cheekbones more prominent than ever, his bare ribs and shoulder blades jutting out of his too tight stretched skin over his naturally lanky, lean frame.
To think of it, Lyle recalled he'd only ever seen his brother wash down with the grimy soap and water in their cell. His whole body.
Of course, he'd been watching him but it hadn't clicked that he'd never seen him shower. Or even go there with his towel. It was so hard to have to look and not touch…Not really comfort him like he longed to…
'Oh baby, …of course, you are…I've seen the way some of them look at you…' Lyle hugged him to his chest then and didn't call him a sissy or a coward, typically he understood right away.
Because he knows the reasons why his brother was so terrified of being naked with other men. And the looks his beautiful brother had been getting weren't lost on either of them.
'Shh', he reached under his prison gym T-shirt and caressed the skin on Erik's back. 'Nobody's gonna do anything to you that you don't want…'
'You sure about that?' Erik raised his tearful face up to look at him unconvinced. 'What if they gang-rape me?' He cried and trembled in terror, his shoulders shaking.
'They won't do that. Besides, I won't let anyone hurt you, OK? We'll just make sure we always go in together.'
'Thanks, Lyle.'
'I love you and I'll always protect you.'
He put his arm around him.
'I love you too.' Erik curled into him and rested his head on his shoulder. Lyle leaned down to peck his lips.
'And you have to start eating…You'll waste away if you don't…'
'But I can't eat that slop they give us!'
'Well, The Family said they'll send us some money to buy food from the tuck shop we can eat. So, don't worry.'
'But it won't be organic, low fat, low sugar, low salt…I want smoked salmon, avocados, eggs that aren't fried, sushi…I need the protein to build muscle…'
'Erik, are you kidding me?' He held his face with both hands and laughed. 'We're in jail, not a health spa!'
…
They were in their cell and Lyle had one arm around his baby brother. He was trying to spoon-feed him the slop that passed for mince-meat and mashed potato but only half-heartedly. Erik refused to eat any other way if he did at all.
It was just like Lyle was 6 and when Erik was 3. Mom was passed out on the sofa in the other room and she'd forgotten to finish feeding his little brother in his high chair. Lyle tried making the spoon into an aeroplane and zoom the food into Erik's mouth like he'd seen their dad do.
Erik turned his head away and irritably pushed his hand away and the spoon cluttered to the floor. He'd always been a fussy eater, even as a baby.
'Now, look what you've done!'
Lyle knew he would want the ground to swallow him whole if their fellow inmates caught them. With an exaggerated sigh, he picked it up.
He was determined not to give up. 'Come on. Open up.' He coaxed.
Suddenly, Erik shot back so far across the cell and just sat on the floor, back to the wall and hugging his knees. Gasping for air.
'What is it?' Lyle crouched down in front of him, aghast. 'What did I do?'
Erik shook his head and trembled.
Before the inevitable tears fell.
Lyle touched his knee.
'No, no, Dad. Get off me!' He jerked back in terror. 'No!'
But Lyle knew he would never have dared say 'No' to Jose in real life. Only once.
And what good had it done him?
Erik started to sob for real now.
Lyle inwardly rolled his eyes. Even though inside, his heart was breaking for his little brother. But he knew Erik had to toughen up to survive life inside. He couldn't keep having CPSTD little breakdowns although mercifully, he hadn't had any embarrassing and revealing flashbacks in public.
'Sh…I'm sorry. I didn't know saying that would…Come here. Are you seeing the therapist?'
'No. What's the point if I can't talk about anything?'
'It's supposed to be confidential.'
Now, it was Erik was looking at Lyle with big brother mocking condescension. 'It's not! Don't you know, they're spying for the prosecution?'
…..
A couple of months later, they put them in cells next to each other instead of sharing one night because of Lyle's stupid escape note - it had been a bit of fun really, not serious - some wishful thinking.
Unfortunately, the guards took it very seriously.
Still, at least they could hold hands through the bars.
But that didn't last. In the morning, when they separated them in different blocks so they didn't even share the same yard or showers, Erik had screamed and fought them to get back to Lyle. His brother meanwhile remained calm and called over his shoulder, 'Sh...It won't be forever!' as he was dragged in the opposite condition. Despite this, Erik became suicidal without knowing when he could be reunited with Lyle. He continued his hunger strike and would have almost faded away to nothing except he kept on with his workouts. Meanwhile, the memories of his father raping him and torturing him preoccupied his waking hours more than ever. Worse - during the lonely nights where they made him sleep alone in his cell, he'd wake up screaming and crying hysterically all the time. None of this earned him the respect of the other prisoners and annoyed them of course.
He'd sob childishly and beg for his brother to the jeers and shouting 'Shut-up, mommy and daddy killer, I'm trying to get some shut-eye' or 'Brother-fucker' or 'Spoilt, little rich cry baby' and 'Where do you think you are, Princess?'
Lyle for his part, lay awake every night they were separated thinking of Erik and worrying about him. His arms ached to hold him…and do other things. It killed him not to be there to protect him because what if his brother's fears were proved right and Lyle had got it wrong?
All these men looking at his beautiful brother, their eyes raking over his naked body with unconcealed lust…
Images came unbidden and unwanted of his baby brother being violated and torn apart by a mob of men at the same time…doing his best to bravely swing at them and fight them off at first before he was overwhelmed then pinned to the shower room's tiled floor…running with his blood…both holes being abused…hands, nails raking over his perfect skin while he tries to scream but he can't because it's full of…Then him just lying there lifeless as the light went out of his eyes and he gave himself up to them…Like with…
He shook his head trying to clear it. Eric surely would have died eventually either by his own hand or their father's if Lyle hadn't found a way to make it stop…
Erik was safer in jail than with his father.
But Lyle just couldn't make himself believe that…
Had he and Eric only killed their parents to put his fragile, little brother in a far worse situation?
These thoughts tormented Lyle and he clutched himself as he sobbed silently into his pillow every night they were apart.
He didn't want the new cell-mate he'd been given to hear him.
Feeling utterly desperate and hopeless after a fortnight, Eric dared to ignore his terror of the shower room one day to pick up a razor someone had dropped and slit his wrists.
