16. ♞ THE NURSE

       THE SOUND OF PACING ECHOED around the cell block as the warden, Pope, walked back and forth across the cell block, giving every single inmate a look of disappointment, not that any of them cared. Phoebe and Michael were sitting silently in their cell, Phoebe laying on the bottom bunk as Michael continued to scrape the bolt across the floor, only about an hour after the talk they'd had. They hadn't said much to one another since.

       "I really don't know what to say to you, gentleman." Pope said loudly as his eyes wandered from cell to cell. Phoebe rolled her eyes at the fact that he'd only said gentleman, but then again she was the only female in the whole cell block and she hadn't even participated in the chaotic event. "I try to give you the benefit of the doubt." Phoebe turned her head to look at Michael when she suddenly heard movement, seeing him desperately remove his button up shirt, leaving him in his long-sleeve shirt. "I try to treat you with respect." Pope continued, "You can't even respect yourselves." Pope voiced as he paused his pacing and stood in the center of the cell block. Phoebe held a small wet rag to the back of her head, trying to ease the pain that came with the wound. "So, there's going to be a forty-eight-hour lockdown." Phoebe sat up slowly with a groan.

       "Forty-eight hours? Fuck." She mumbled more to herself than to Michael. Michael ignored her, putting his face in the crooks of his arms as he rested them against his knees. Phoebe gulped, pulling the rag away from her head and turning it over to the clean side before putting it back on.

       "No mess, no showers, no visitation." Pope drawled on. "And I strongly suggest that you all learn to get along." Phoebe scoffed quite loudly at this, earning a glare from an inmate at a cell across the cell block from theirs.

       "Like that's ever gonna happen." Phoebe quietly snarled to herself again, a sudden wave of anger brewing inside of her. She didn't know why she was so angry suddenly, and it even caught Michael off guard, although he didn't react to it. "Stupid fucking racist pigs." Phoebe snarled again quietly. Michael gulped awkwardly. Phoebe didn't usually speak this way, but when she did, it made Michael nervous for some reason.

       "Otherwise, the next time it's gonna be a week and the time after that it's gonna be a month." Pope threatened. "Think about it." He instructed with a nod that barely anyone actually saw. Pope then left the cell block, leaving them all alone again. Phoebe awkwardly laid back into the bed again as Michael went back to scraping the bolt into shape. They sat in a cloud of awkward silence, not looking at one another or speaking a single word. Lucky for them though, Bradley showed up outside their cell with a small smirk and nodded at Phoebe, and Michael was able to quickly and discretely hide the bolt in his sleeves.

       "Baldwin, let's go." Bradley instructed as he demanded for the door to be opened. As it slid open, Phoebe helped herself up painfully and winced.

       "Go where?" She asked quietly, removing the rag again from her wound and setting it on the bed. Bradley rolled his eyes.

       "Thought you were in need of stitches, weren't you sweetheart?" Bradley teased. Phoebe shuddered at the nickname and followed him out.

       "Don't call me that." She demanded in a low tone as Bradley led her away.

       "Oh, getting feisty are we?" Bradley taunted between chuckles as he pushed Phoebe in front of him, making her trip over her own feet and fall to the ground with a harsh thump.

       "Ow, what the hell?!" Phoebe snarled, pushing herself to her feet. Bradley glared at her, tightly gripping her upper arm and dragging her behind him. "You're hurting me!" She hissed quietly. Bradley released his grip on her and turned to her with a glare.

       "Keep it moving, sweetheart." He growled in a low tone. Phoebe clenched her jaw as tears welled up in her eyes and she rushed to lead the way to the infirmary so Bradley wouldn't see her tears. As they stepped into the infirmary, she spotted a doctor down the hall, with his back facing them. Phoebe guessed it must've been Sara's replacement for the nights, since she didn't work late. Bradley allowed Phoebe to enter alone and sit on a stool as he went back down the hall and disappeared around a corner. Phoebe winced as she gripped her own arm carefully, pained by the harsh grip Bradley had on her earlier.

       Phoebe looked down at her feet, tears welling in her eyes again as she wondered how she'd gotten there. She had to admit, sometimes she really regretted helping Michael out. Things weren't too great between them at the moment and there was danger lurking around every corner. Hell, she couldn't even take a piss without feeling watched or exposed; which she was. A few tears slid down her cheeks, her eyes squeezing shut angrily.

       "Are you okay?" An all too familiar voice asked. Phoebe sighed and clenched her jaw, quickly wiping away her tears before looking back up.

       "I'm fine, Cameron. What the hell are you doing here?" Phoebe asked as she crossed her arms, staring at Cameron as he stood in front of her.

       "I'm the doctor for the night. Nothing ever really happens here at night, so they don't keep a doctor around. If anything mild happens, they let me take care of it. If it's anything serious, they call Tancredi." He explained with a small smile, shutting the door behind him and pulling up a stool besides Phoebe.

       "Great." Phoebe responded sarcastically. "Get to it, then." She said. Cameron smiled slightly, standing up and gathering the needed materials from a cabinet besides them. They sat in awkward silence as Cameron gathered the items. Great, Phoebe thought, more awkward silence.

       "Do you... do you hate me?" Cameron asked quietly as he slipped on a pair of blue latex gloves after washing his hands thoroughly. Phoebe sighed and shrugged.

       "I don't wanna talk about that." She snapped. Cameron nodded and made his way back to her, standing behind her as he began to move her hair away from her wound and clean the area. Phoebe hissed at the pain, but said nothing.

       "I haven't seen you since..." Cameron paused, carefully cleaning Phoebe's wound and shaking his head. "Never mind."

       "I said I don't wanna talk about that." Phoebe repeated angrily. Cameron nodded to himself and sighed.

       "Alright, chill. I didn't even say anything to make you mad." He said with a groan. Phoebe scoffed.

       "Just shut the hell up already, Cameron." Phoebe said between clenched teeth, her hands curling into fists in her lap. She was in pain, but she was also confused, annoyed, and angry. Everything mixed together with the pain she felt from the wound and the pain she felt from seeing Cameron again was getting to her.

"Dammit Phoebe, I'm not doing shit!" Cameron hissed back. "I'm literally just cleaning this, and I didn't even say anything bad! You're so fucking dramatic!" He snarled quietly to avoid catching Bradley's attention. Phoebe crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

"Just shut the fuck up and do your job so we can get this over with." Phoebe retorted. Cameron bit the inside of his cheek to keep from responding, stitching Phoebe's wound up quietly.