Wait to start the song.
***Trigger warnings for mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts later on in the chapter.***

Josh waited until the lights came on in the cellblock the next day to read his little sister's letter. He kept putting it off because he wasn't sure if he was ready to see what Abbie wanted to say to him. Maybe he just was afraid of disappointing her when he wrote back. He didn't know how to interact with her. He didn't know how to interact with anyone.

Still, he slid the letter out of the envelope as the other inmates in the rest of the prison were probably going to eat breakfast. Josh's would come to him though, so he made his bed and sat on it while he opened his letter. It was relatively thick, a few pages long. There was a drawing strategically tucked amongst the pages, so Josh decided he wouldn't look at it until he'd read far enough into her letter. His hands were shaking so hard that he couldn't read the words on the first page, so he set the pages down on the bed in front of him carefully before tentatively absorbing the words his youngest sister had given to him.

Joshua,

I think it's really important to start off this letter by telling you that I forgive you for what happened to those people and that I know you didn't hurt anyone on purpose. I believe you. I trust you. I love you.

That was as far as Josh got before tears blurred his vision. He wiped stubbornly at his eyes with his palms. He didn't want to cry. He wanted to read this. This was the first time in an extremely long time that one of his siblings had actually taken the time to fully write something out for him instead of tucking pictures and a few words into an envelope and dropping it into the mail. He wanted to give her his full attention.

Josh looked up when his cell door was unlocked. It was Hoppus who brought in his breakfast, which he probably wouldn't eat anyways. Even though Hoppus knew that, he set the tray down on the bed next to the letter.

"What you got there?" Hoppus asked curiously.

"My sister wrote me a letter," Josh replied, slightly relieved that Hoppus was here now. "I'm kind of scared to read it. I haven't even talked to her for years. Ashley said she's like I was when I was her age. She wants me to write back, but...."

Hoppus understood without Josh having to finish his sentence. "You won't ruin her or make her do what you did by writing back. I think not writing back would do more damage."

Josh sighed, looking at the letter again. He swallowed hard before picking it up and holding it out to the guard. "Will you read it first?"

Officer Hoppus's eyebrows raised, but he took the letter carefully. "Sure." He handed Josh his tray. "Eat while I read."

Josh eyed the lumpy bowl of grits in front of him. "Do I have to?" He asked as Hoppus sat down next to him.

"You do," Hoppus replied as his eyes scanned the first page.

The anxiety thrumming through Josh's veins distracted him from the actual taste and texture of the food he was eating. He felt kind of sick, but he wanted Hoppus to keep reading. He wanted to know before he read the letter if it was going to reveal to him that he'd destroyed her life or anything. Hoppus smiled slightly as he read though.

"She looks like you," Hoppus commented.

Curiosity won out and Josh sat forward to look at the letter. Abbie had taped her school photo into the letter. She looked so much older. Her hair was much redder than anyone else in their family's, and her eyes were rimmed with far too much black eye makeup. She could pull it off though. He could still see the little sister he remembered in the picture in front of him. He smiled even though the picture made his chest ache.

Hoppus chuckled. "You know what? I've known you for three years, and I don't think I've ever actually seen you smile properly until today."

"Whatever," Josh replied quietly, forcing the smile off of his face.

Hoppus rolled his eyes, nudging Josh with his elbow. "That doesn't mean you shouldn't smile. You should do it more for sure. It's a good look for you."

Josh ignored Hoppus as he picked up the coffee on the tray. Coffee wasn't bad in prison. Honestly, most food in prison was okay. Grits and oatmeal were always a gamble though. Nine times out of ten, Josh wound up sick after he ate them. He hoped if he drank enough of his coffee, Hoppus would let the rest of the meal slide.

"You didn't tell me she could draw like you," Hoppus commented, looking at the picture in awe. "Jesus Christ. How old is she again?"

"Thirteen," Josh replied, feeling a little bit proud of his sister.

He knew she could draw. She sent him drawings all the time. She was far better than he ever had been. Maybe that was why he'd stopped sending drawings back. It had become another part of his life that he was behind on.

"Damn," Hoppus breathed out, giving the paper one more impressed glance before moving on to the next page of the letter. It took about five minutes for him to skim it all for Josh and hand it back. "You better send her a letter back this time. This girl loves you like hell. I think talking to her would be really good for both of you. You have a lot in common."

Hearing Hoppus confirm that it was a good idea to write back made Josh feel a million times more confident in doing so. He didn't smile even though he probably could if he tried. His mom had told him once that his lips just twitched whenever he was supposed to smile, like he was forcing the smile back down. He didn't know why he murdered every smile that tried to make him feel like he was going to be okay, but he did it every time. He didn't mean to. He just didn't want to smile. It never felt real.

"I'm going to go finish my rounds. I'll be back to get your tray in twenty minutes. That food better be gone," Hoppus told Josh sternly, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly as he did so. Josh couldn't help but lean into the touch.

"Thanks, Da-Hoppus," Josh said, catching himself before he could fuck everything up. Anxiety balled up in his stomach as he realized what he'd almost said.

Hoppus smiled at him though, making him relax slightly. "Anytime. Now eat up and get to reading that letter. I'll be back soon."

Josh nodded, watching his door close behind Hoppus. He wished he could go with him. He wished he could walk around and not feel so trapped. Maybe this was better though. If he went out there, he'd have to see the other inmates. They weren't in solitary for their own protection. They were in solitary because they were dangerous. They were the kinds of guys who did what Josh had done, but they had done it on purpose. There was no remorse in those other cells.

Josh set his coffee back onto the metal tray his food had come on, setting the whole thing onto the floor before starting to read the letter. Hoppus could yell at him later, but he didn't feel like eating. He just wanted to focus on Abbie's words.

I'm thirteen now. The same age you were. Mom made Ashley and Jordan go to therapy when they turned thirteen, so I'm guessing I'll have to too. Mom almost made me go last year because she found cigarettes in my room. I didn't tell her I found them in yours and kept them. I never planned on smoking them. I just liked knowing you'd held the box.

Josh smiled at that. He was surprised his mom hadn't ransacked his room after the fire and found all of the stupid stuff he'd been hiding in there. He'd done a lot of stupid stuff back then. Looking back now, he had no idea why he'd done any of it. He was just glad Abbie was smarter than he was.

His fingertips trailed lightly across the picture of Abbie that had been taped below those words. He wanted her to come visit him. He wanted to tell her it was okay to see a therapist and that she could take whatever she wanted from his stuff as long as it wasn't going to hurt her or someone else. He wanted to be her big brother in a normal sense. None of that was an option though, so he just kept reading.

I still go in your room a lot even though it annoys Jordan. He thinks I'm going to wind up in prison too, but I won't. I don't go in there to plot world destruction or anything. I just go in there to look through your old sketchbooks and to lay on your bed and to try and figure out why everyone thinks we're so similar. Sometimes I try to remember what you smelled like too. I don't know if your room still smells like you or if it just smells like the rest of the house. I wish I could remember everything about you, but I can't remember much at all. I'm hoping that when I hug you in June I'll be able to remember if you always smelled like you do right now.

I really hope you get out in June. I want you to see what our house looks like now and to meet Ashley's cats and Andrew and to be here. I really want you to be here. If we're as alike as everyone always says we are, maybe you'll understand me more than the rest of our family does.

I'm sorry I haven't come to visit you. I wish I could, but I think Mom's afraid that if Jordan and I see you, we'll wind up in prison too. It's stupid. I know. We fight about it a lot. Jordan says you used to fight with Mom and Dad a lot too. He said the only time they even talked to you was to yell at you. He thinks you got in trouble on purpose so they'd pay attention to you. I hope that's not my fault. I know that Mom and Dad had to give me most of their attention because I was little. I wish they'd paid more attention to you. Maybe then you could be here right now.

Josh reread that paragraph over and over. Had he gotten in trouble just so his parents would pay attention to him? He couldn't really remember what his relationship with his parents had been like before he'd been arrested. So much of his childhood was a blur. One of the many therapists he'd had over the years had told him he was probably blocking out memories as a coping mechanism. Remembering what he was missing out on could destroy him. He couldn't remember if he'd had a good childhood or a bad one. It had never felt important.

It hurt to think about his mother telling his little siblings they couldn't come visit him. He'd always thought they just hadn't wanted to. His mom had always said that maybe they'd come another time. He hadn't known she wasn't letting them visit him.

Maybe that made sense. He didn't want to screw them up. He loved his brother and sisters, or at least what he remembered of them.

He turned to the next page of the letter, seeing that it was a new date scribbled at the top. She'd sent him more than one letter. That made him smile. She'd thought about him for more than one day. That comforted him greatly.

Joshua,

I was right. Mom made me go to therapy today. It didn't suck as much as I thought it would. I've been bribing Jordan so he wouldn't bring me for a couple weeks now, but my psychologist is okay. He's nice actually. I told him about you. He said I should start sending you these letters again. I hope you write back this time. I miss hearing from you.

I decided the best way for you to know about my life since you can't be here to see it yet is for me to draw the important parts. The drawing on the next page is my therapist. He said I could send you the drawing I did of him during my first session. I think he's cuter than Ashley's husband, but she was mad when I told her that.

Josh took the drawing out from behind the page he was reading and looked it over. Abbie really was an amazing artist. He smiled as he looked at the person she'd drawn. His eyes were dark and so was his hair, which was fluffy and messy. Josh wondered if his lips were really as red as Abbie had drawn them or if that was just the only colour she'd had available for his lips.

Josh leant down and pulled his box of letters out from under his bed. He dug through the organized piles within it and pulled out the envelope containing pictures from Ashley's wedding. He set one of the pictures beside Abbie's drawing, looking at Ashley's husband before looking at Abbie's psychologist. Maybe it was just because Josh harboured a bit of unfounded resentment toward the new family member he'd never met, but he agreed that the man in Abbie's drawing was better looking than Andrew.

He kept reading then.

Ashley and Jordan don't really like me that much. Mom says it's because they wish I was you or something like that. I don't really know what that means. Jordan pretends he doesn't miss you, but he goes in your room sometimes too. Ashley gets mad when I say I miss you because she says I didn't even know you. I want to though. I really want to.

I have a secret to tell you. I was going to wait until you got out of prison to tell you, but I want you to have something to look forward to when you get out in June. I've been getting you a Christmas present every year when I get one for everybody else. Since I can't send them to you because of the stupid prison rules, I keep them under my bed. I got you one this year too. Hopefully next Christmas I can give you yours on time and in person. Until then, I have a bunch of stuff to give you when you get out. Some of it is embarrassing because I bought it when I was little, but I hope you'll like everything anyways.

How could Josh not like whatever she was going to give him? He hadn't had Christmas in years. Yeah, his mom usually visited him a few days before or after Christmas and put some commissary money into his account, but that didn't feel like Christmas.

Josh complained as a kid about going to mass on Christmas and having to pretend Santa existed for his younger siblings' sakes, but he would give anything to have Christmas now. Even if that meant he just got to see the tacky Christmas tree his mom had them decorate every year, that would be enough.

I'm going to start sending you these letters more often, even if you don't write back. I really want you to write back, but even if you don't, I just want you to be able to know that I'm thinking about you. I'm always thinking about you. It sucks that I don't get to see you. I have to see Jordan every day, and I don't even like him. I'd much rather he was the one in prison.

I love you, Josh. I'm excited for you to come home. I'm going to hug you for a whole week and never let go. I know you don't get to hear it every day so I'll write it a couple more times. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Love you always,
Abbie

Start the song. It's Nesting Behavior by Mothers.

Josh wanted to laugh, but there were tears in his eyes. He wanted to see Abbie and to talk to her and to tell her he loved her too. He wanted to know if he still smelled the same and to be there with her next Christmas. He wanted to be her big brother. He really did.

"You didn't eat," a voice said, jolting Josh out of his thoughts.

Josh felt like he was still the little boy that was too scared to cry in the back of the police car as he was driven away from the fire he'd caused. He wondered if Abbie and Jordan and Ashley and his parents ever felt like he'd burned to death in that building too. Did they wish he had? Sometimes he did. He didn't know how to cope with the things Abbie had said to him. He didn't know how to wrap his mind around someone wanting him to get out of here. He felt scared and small, but he couldn't tell anyone in here that. That was too dangerous.

The guard in front of him studied his face for a moment when he didn't reply. Josh folded the letter back up with shaky hands before sliding it back into the envelope. His movements felt mechanic, and he knew his mind was trying to suppress what he was feeling already. Hoppus sighed.

"Do you want to go talk to Debby?" He asked Josh carefully.

Josh shook his head, setting the envelopes from Abbie and Ashley back into the box on the floor before sliding it back under his bed. He didn't want to speak. He didn't want to do anything really. He wanted to go home. He wanted to feel like things were okay.

"Talk to me," Hoppus said as he unlocked the cell door and walked over to pick up Josh's unfinished tray. "What are you thinking right now?"

Josh shrugged, sliding his thumb along the scabs on his wrist that the cuffs had left behind. "I don't know."

"Are you feeling safe?" Hoppus pressed, looking worriedly at Josh.

Josh nodded even though he wasn't sure. He hesitated before looking to Hoppus. "Do you think I started burning shit so my parents would pay attention to me?"

The guard sighed. "I don't know why you did it, Josh. You'd have to tell me that."

Josh chewed at the inside of his cheek as he looked down at his hands. His right thumb nail dragged along the knuckle of his left thumb, and he wished his mom was here. He wished he was wherever she was. He wished he wasn't afraid of the possibility of ever being in his childhood home again.

"Hoppus...." Josh didn't know why he'd started speaking. He didn't know what he wanted to say. He didn't know how to communicate whatever it was he was feeling. He didn't know anything. "I wish they'd take me out of solitary," he finally said.

The guard shook his head. "Trust me. It would be worse out there. They'd kill you."

"Maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing," Josh replied quietly, not looking up from his hands.

He was surprised when Hoppus set the tray down on the bed before pulling him up and hugging him. This was definitely illegal. This was definitely not allowed. Hoppus definitely wasn't allowed to do this, especially with someone who'd committed a violent crime like Josh had. Still, Josh felt overwhelmingly relieved by the touch. He was too afraid to hug back, but he let Hoppus hold him for a moment.

"Don't say that shit, okay? That would be the worst thing. It would be to me, and it would be to the girl who sent you that letter. Don't talk like that," Hoppus said in a gentle tone that Josh hadn't heard since he was eighteen.

It made him miss his dad. Why didn't his dad ever visit? Why didn't anyone ever visit?

"How am I supposed to survive six more months in here? How am I supposed to survive if they don't let me out in June? If I don't get out, I'll kill myself. I know I will. I can't survive in here. I don't want to die here, but I can't-" Josh shut his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't let himself cry. Not now. Not here. Don't cry. Don't cry.

Josh remembered being sixteen and sharing a cell with a kid who'd beaten some other guy into a coma over an ounce of marijuana that hadn't been paid for. He remembered seeing that kid cry himself to sleep at night every night. He remembered being angry that someone who only had to serve a couple years would be so whiny about it. He remembered waking up to find out that kid had slit his wrists in the night. He remembered how his mom had cried the next time she saw him and hugged him over and over again. He remembered telling her to stop being so dramatic over some stupid kid that found a way out before he had to go to a real prison. Was that when she had stopped letting his siblings come see him?

"I won't let you die in here," Officer Hoppus assured him.

Josh remained completely unresponsive to the arms wrapped around him, too pathetic to pull away and too scared to hug back. "Maybe that won't be up to you though," he whispered. "Maybe that's not something you can control."

His heart sank when Hoppus released him, pulling the cuffs off of his belt and locking Josh's hands behind his back. "Well, if that's the case, we're going to go see Debby. I'm not going to let you hurt yourself. I have control over that. It's my job to protect you."

"It's your job to keep us from getting out and hurting anyone else," Josh mumbled, feeling even more helpless than before.

"That's part of my job," Hoppus agreed. "Part of my job is to keep you from hurting anyone else. It's also my job to keep anyone from hurting you, though, and that includes yourself."

Josh didn't respond, letting Hoppus lead him out of his cell and through the cell block. He didn't hear the terrible things the other inmates yelled at him this time as he passed their cells on his way to see Debby. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears and that same question that burned through him every day of his life. What was his biggest mistake? The fire? The people it killed? Being caught? Being outside of the building when it collapsed instead of inside? He didn't know. He didn't know anything. Most of all, he didn't know how to survive this, even after eight years.