Chapter 19

Abig enough fight anywhere in Brixton resulted in the whole prison being on lockdown. For over seventy-two hours they'd been confined to their cells, not even allowed out to shower or wash their clothes. Cardboard-tasting food had been slipped through their hatch in the door to tide them over until they could next go to the servery.

Visits had been cancelled.

No one could use the phones.

It wasn't their first seventy-two-hour lockdown, and it wouldn't be the last, but it had coincided with Christmas Day.

And to add to the misery, most of the TV was consumed by how wonderful Christmas was, with TV hosts and endless films plugging the Christmas spirit.

Newt missed his family.

He missed them more than he had when it had been his birthday in the summer. When he'd turned twenty-two, he'd been able to call Stone. He'd heard Mickey and Robin wish him happy birthday, and they'd even managed to get Triton to bleat down the phone at him.

Christmas TV melted his brain, and the sound of Love Actually cutting out halfway through came as a relief. Newt rolled over in bed, peering down at Leo from the top bunk. Most of the time, Newt spent in Leo's bed, but occasionally he needed to stretch out and half suffocate himself in a pillow to add some variety to their lives.

Leo gave him space, or as much space as he could in their cramped cell.

The door rattled, and hope bloomed in Newt's chest. He shared a cautious smile with Leo, only to be disappointed when the hatch opened and not the door.

Newt slipped down from the bunk.

"I've got you something," Jude said.

Newt dropped to his knees, waiting patiently as Jude pulled something out from underneath his jumper. Red tinsel snaked onto the floor in front of Newt. Followed by an orange line of tinsel.

Newt stared at it emotionlessly.

"Is that for us to hang ourselves with?" Newt asked.

"Wow." Jude's eyebrows shot up his forehead. "Not the response I was expecting." He shifted so he could see Leo sat on the bed. "Is this your influence?"

Leo shrugged. "You haven't answered his question."

"It's for decorating your cell, adding a bit of Christmas cheer."

"There is nothing cheerful about this Christmas." Newt slumped, lowering his shoulders. "When's it going to end?"

"Soon," Jude promised.

"You said soon yesterday."

"It's not up to me, Newt. I wish it was."

With a sad smile, Jude closed the hatch.

"Come on, Starman," Leo said, pulling Newt back by the shoulder.

Newt leaned back against their bunk, sighing as he drew his knees up to his chest.

"What's Christmas at home look like for the Briggs family?"

Newt closed his eyes, picturing a typical Christmas. "Mickey gets the biggest Christmas tree he can find. One year it had a bird box nailed to it, and another year, when he shook it, a pine martin dropped onto the carpet."

Leo snorted as he lifted his leg over Newt's head. Newt shifted until he was comfortable between Leo's thighs. He sighed when Leo began rubbing his shoulders. "I always decorate the tree." Newt swallowed. "With red and orange tinsel."

Leo's hands paused. "Red and orange, huh?"

"Mickey says they clash, but I don't care. I like red and orange."

"The tinsel on the floor of our cell suddenly makes sense."

Newt hooked it with his foot and dragged it closer. "Jude cooks. Last Christmas he cooked way too much. I felt guilty eating it."

"Why?"

"He was cooking because he was stressed, but it still tasted amazing." Newt tilted his head to look back at Leo. "He really is good. He'll make anything you ask for. He made me a leek and potato soufflé once, and it was so good I almost cried."

"What does Stone do on Christmas Day?"

"He's the host, making sure things don't descend into anarchy. We have Christmas dinner late, then leave it a few hours before dessert, which is my job."

"You bake?"

"No." Newt chuckled. "I just know where the best cake places are around the city. Order something for each of my brothers, and then we wrap up warm, go outside and look at the stars. That's Christmas, or it was. There's a lot more of us now with Robin, Triton, Luck and Hope…and now Aaron." Newt swallowed the jagged lump in his throat. "And you."

"Me?"

"Yeah." Newt picked at the bottom of his jeans, clicking his nails against the fabric. "You'll have to come for Christmas."

Leo didn't reply, but he didn't stop rubbing Newt's shoulders either. His thumbs were firm, pressing circles against Newt's skin.

"What's your typical Christmas look like?"

Leo rested his chin on top of Newt's hair and exhaled. "A few beers, a microwave meal."

"Then you don't have an excuse not to come to one of our Christmases."

Or all of them, Newt thought but didn't dare say.

"Maybe," Leo said, swinging his leg back over Newt's head. "But right now, this Christmas, we need to brighten up the cell a bit."

"With two strings of tinsel?" Newt asked, scrunching them in his grip.

"All we need is a Christmas tree," Leo said, rubbing his chin.

"No problem, I'll just scream out the window for Jude to get us one."

Leo smirked. "Snarky little thing today, aren't you?"

He grabbed a tube of toothpaste and used it like fingerpaint to draw a huge Christmas tree on the wall by the door. Newt sneezed at the overwhelming smell of mint, but it did drown out the lingering smell of curried noodles they'd been living off for days.

Leo ripped up the magazines he'd been buying from the canteen, all different greens Newt stuck to the wall in the shape of the Christmas tree. The tinsel required so much toothpaste to keep it on the wall it became matted, and the colours muted, but it didn't matter. When Newt stood back and admired their makeshift tree, he smiled.

"We've just made a new Christmas tradition," Newt said, twisting to face a smiling Leo behind him.

"I'm sure Stone will be thrilled with you smothering a wall with toothpaste every year." He snorted, then looked down at what he held in his hand. A wonkily ripped-out star. "Here, Starman."

Newt took it from him and, with a blob of toothpaste, slapped it to the top of the tree.

"Perfect," Leo announced.

It was far from it, dripping, and smelling so strongly Newt's eyes burnt, but those imperfections made it right for their home in Brixton.

* * *

"Shit," Jude said after finally opening the door. He gestured to their makeshift tree with his thumb. "I had no idea things got that bad."

"Are we out of lockdown?" Newt asked with a yawn, escaping Leo's heavy arm over his side. Jude didn't comment, or react. It wasn't the first, second or third time he'd walked in and seen their sleeping arrangement, and Newt had assumed he'd be taken aside and quizzed by his brother, but it never happened.

"Yes," Jude said. "Bull and his team have opened the servery, and they're ready for customers."

"About time," Leo grumbled, throwing off their duvet.

They got ready in record time before stumbling out onto the wing on weak legs. Thomas and Scott appeared, both stretching and groaning, with a bouncing lilt to their stride that everyone seemed to have after being locked up for so long.

Scott smiled, bumping his shoulder into Newt's, who bumped him in return.

"How did you pass the time?" Scott asked.

"We made a Christmas tree out of toothpaste and torn-off bits of paper. You?"

"I drew Thomas naked." Scott flashed his blue eyes in Thomas's direction. "My best work if I do say so myself, and it took days to get it right."

Thomas huffed. "There's now something worth masturbating over in my cell."

Scott tipped his head back and laughed. Thomas's mouth spread in a pleased smile. Leo grimaced at the sound, distancing himself a few steps from Scott and his cackle.

"I can't believe I even missed that sound," Newt said.

Bull waited, and instead of his usual scowl, he had a warm smile and gestured frantically to all the trays of food. "Get your fill, boys. Who knows when they'll next bang us up for days on end."

Newt pointed to the hat on Bull's head.

"Present from Riley," Bull said, briefly touching the cowboy-looking hat he'd come to Brixton with.

Leo queued for the porridge, and Newt waited for Bull to make him some fresh toast. He smothered both slices with marmite and strawberry jam. Unable to wait until they were back in their cell, he tore off a corner of toast and got a loud tut from Leo.

"You're missing the best bit." Bull hurried up the servery and lifted the lid on the last tray. A mountain of mince pies waited beneath. Newt looked away as everyone crowded them, arguing over the least burnt ones, but with soft voices in case they were banged up again.

"Are they vegan?" Leo asked on Newt's behalf.

Bull shook his head. "Sorry, Starman."

"It's okay." Newt directed a smile at Bull's breasts on his apron. "I didn't fancy one."

He'd never eat a mince pie again, not because of guilt over what happened to Jeffery Sharpe, but because of Jeffery's mother. She'd been warm, friendly, as she always had been to Newt, and he'd handed over the mince pie, knowing it would kill her son but not thinking about how it would affect her.

There was guilt for his crime, but not for Jeffery.

"You okay?" Leo asked softly.

Newt nodded.

"Want to go back to the cell?"

He nodded again.

They'd only been out of the cell for fifteen minutes when they returned with their trays of breakfast. Leo kept the door wide open though, showing them both it was a choice to be in the cell that morning.

Scott stopped by on his way back. "Shaw has invited us to his cell later. Seven o'clock during association. He has asked us to discreetly bring our mugs."

Newt frowned. "Bring our mugs?"

"Yep." Scott winked.

* * *

Shaw welcomed them all to his cell like it was his house. He shook Bull's, Thomas's, and Leo's hands, bowed his head at Scott, fist-bumped Welsh, then lastly, ruffled Newt's hair as he stepped inside the cell.

There were playing cards on the table, and dominos, and what looked like a chessboard. Bull rubbed his hands together, sitting down at the table. "Now we're talking."

It was a squeeze for all of them to fit. Thomas, Scott and Shaw sat on the bed, Bull, Welsh and Leo each took a chair, and Newt glanced around helplessly until Leo pulled him over to sit on his lap. Thomas looked over to him, and Newt gasped.

"Your eye."

Instead of the blue orb, he had a green snake eye. "Present from Riley."

"Come on," Bull shouted. "Let's get on with this."

They played Bull's favourite, Bullshit, followed by a game of Spoons, but instead of spoons, they used their mugs. Then Thomas and Welsh were locked in a bitter battle of chess while Scott made a domino run along the floor.

Newt and Leo had spent lockdown creating a minty fresh tree, Scott had pencil-drawn Thomas Titanic style, and Bull revealed he'd spent his time perfecting a new game with his cellmate Welsh.

"Rock, paper, scissors, mince pie." Newt glared at him until Bull shifted back in his chair, scraping the legs against the floor. "Hear me out, it's like the standard rock paper scissors, but you can also use mince pie which, inspired by our Starman, means poison."

"What does mince pie defeat?" Shaw asked.

"Everything, but the thing is, you can only use it once during a game of three, and if you both use it at the same time, you both die. No previous game counts."

Shaw shuffled to the edge of the bed. "Come on then."

The ‘mince pie' added very little to the game, but Bull was adamant he was on to something and needed to patent it quickly.

Riley poked his head in the door. "Everything okay?"

"We're good, Riles," Shaw replied, flashing him a grin.

Riley frowned but left them to it.

"Ready?" Bull asked.

Shaw nodded. "No one should check again for at least an hour if we don't get too rowdy."

Bull bounded over to Shaw's closet, searching through his clothes before revealing a plastic bottle of orange-tinted liquid. He spun off the cap and took a great whiff.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Bull said, tapping the table.

Everyone put their mug down.

"You don't have to drink it if you don't want to," Leo whispered by Newt's ear.

"What is it?" Newt whispered back.

"Only the finest prison hooch," Bull replied. "It's taken two months, but it's fermented up good and proper." He poured a generous helping into each mug.

"What's it made out of?" Newt asked, swishing the liquid. There were bits floating, and it held the aroma of raw bread dough.

"It's best not to ask that." Welsh smirked. "And don't ask how Bull's been keeping it warm either."

Shaw lowered his mug before it touched his lips. "I thought you'd found a place to hide it in the servery."

Bull shook his head. "Couldn't risk someone finding it. We've kept it in our cell."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Scott said, studying his own helping.

"Bull's been hugging it all night, every night," Welsh said.

"Hey," Bull snapped. "It needed to be warm."

"Our cell stinks like a brewery."

Bull shoved Welsh. "What the hell are you complaining about?"

"It wasn't a complaint, it was a brag."

"Enough," Shaw said, then he downed the lot. He folded over, clutching his throat. "Jesus, Bull."

"That good?" Bull asked before taking a swig. He spluttered into his elbow before bursting into laughter. Shaw joined him, rumbling with smirking fits. Scott, Thomas, and Welsh followed them into the land of giggles after downing their generous shots of the hooch.

"You don't have to," Leo reminded Newt.

"What if I want to?" Newt asked.

It was one of Mickey's rules. Don't drink or take drugs.

Leo ran a hand up his back. "Then I'm right here."

Newt took a sip, grimacing at the taste.

"It's best to do it all in one," Bull said, refilling everyone's mugs.

Newt nodded, then knocked back his drink. His throat caught fire instantly, his tongue dried to a husk in his mouth, and he wheezed into Leo's shoulder. The others all cheered, and soon Newt recovered enough to squeak in Bull's direction that it was the worst thing he'd ever put in his mouth.

It didn't stop Newt from having a second shot of the stuff, and he soon joined the raucous laughter of the cell.

"Try it," Newt said, knocking his mug into Leo's.

"I'm looking out for you."

"You can do that and still have one."

Leo sighed. "Just the one."

He didn't react at all when he downed his mug. Bull poked Leo in the chest. "Hot damn, do you have a throat of iron?"

"Something like that."

Between the six of them, they finished the bottle. Newt slipped down in Leo's lap until he was sprawled out, Leo his personal armchair behind him. Newt rubbed his cheek against Leo's chin, smiling as his five o'clock shadow scratched his skin. Leo's hands were clasped together around Newt's middle, beneath Newt's T-shirt. They were skin on skin, and Newt let out a blissed sigh when Leo brushed his thumb over Newt's stomach.

"It's lockdown in five," Shaw said, checking his watch. He looked around each of them. "Are you alright getting home, or should I call you each a cab?"

It was a weak joke at best, but they laughed until it was hard to breathe. Thomas and Scott left first, followed by Bull and Welsh.

Then it was Newt's and Leo's turn to amble across the wing in a calm and reasonable manner, so as not to arouse suspicion.

Newt needed Leo's arm around his back to help him, and they managed the stairs without issue, but then Newt spotted Jude and waved a floppy hand for his attention. "Hey, hi, Jude! Over here. I'm here. It's me. It's Newt!"

"Christ," Leo growled, picking Newt up. He carried Newt over to their cell as Newt continued to wave, no longer blurting out hi, but ‘bye, goodbye, cheerio' instead.

Leo lowered him to the bed and shushed him.

"Have you got my little brother wasted, Leo?" Jude asked from the doorway. He raised his eyebrow. Newt sprung off the bed, ramming a finger in Jude's direction, wanting to tug down his gravity-defying eyebrow. Jude widened his eyes as he caught Newt's hand.

"He's just high on Christmas spirit," Leo explained, tugging Newt back to the bed.

"Well, Christmas spirit smells a bit like a dumpster."

"Tastes like it too," Newt said before hiccupping.

Jude sighed. "I'll see if I can get some aspirin sorted for tomorrow."

He locked the cell.

Newt grabbed Leo's face in both hands and kissed him. He kissed him hard. Newt melted against him, and he dared to open his mouth, just a little to allow his tongue room to slip against Leo's bottom lip.

"Hey," Leo whispered, turning his head. He broke the kiss. "As your brother said, you're wasted."

Newt shook his head. "No kissing while I'm wasted?"

"Not the kind of kissing you were trying to do."

"Trying to do," Newt repeated glumly. His face grew warm.

Leo pressed a soft kiss to Newt's mouth. It felt like an apology.

"You want to try kissing like that, we can," Leo promised. "But when you're not riding high on giggles and hiccups."

Newt slapped a hand to his mouth to hide a hiccup, but Leo heard and felt it go through Newt.

"Tomorrow?" Newt asked. "When we wake up?"

A smile crinkled Leo's eyes. He looked at Newt like he knew something Newt didn't.

"We'll see."