Chapter Text
Tyler was hunched up, knees to his chest and face in his hands on the back of the bus. He was shaking like a scared chihuahua. Him and several others were heading to Shady Oaks Penitentiary. The bus screeched to a halt suddenly, and his body lurched forward, bumping into someone. The person turned and shot him a scowl. It was a man a great deal shorter than himself, but his glare and stature made up for that. He hurried past him to the front of the bus and was chided by the driver. While being guided, he mentally cursed at his past self for dressing this way before being arrested. His black skinny jeans and floral button-up were getting him looked at like prey. There was no way someone would take him seriously in this get-up. He tried to broaden his shoulders and make himself seem larger and tougher, but it hurt so he stopped.
As soon as they were in through the doors, he got a duffel bag thrown into his chest. He puffed out a grunt in response, not expecting the projectile. Upon closer inspection, it contained a couple pairs of orange jumpsuits. Their cleanliness was questionable by the way they smelled. He scrunched up his nose in disgust and continued to follow the guards as ordered. He was terrified, but tried to hide it behind a blank look. He was haphazardly shoved into cell block 21, falling to the ground as the bars were closed. “Well, that was unnecessary. You could’ve just asked-”
“Can it, Joseph.” The guard bellowed at him with a sneer. Tyler let out a long sigh before realizing he wasn’t alone in the cell. He got to his feet and his eyes darted around. Oh no, that was not a toilet in the corner. The man in the cell didn’t seem to be one for conversation, so he simply donned the jumpsuit over his clothes. He certainly didn’t feel like changing in front of a stranger. His twitchy fingers rubbed over the hem of the jumpsuit, finding it to be filthy. And why was it so large? It dangled off his limbs, making him think he could possibly trip over it if he walked. He decided it was better than his original outfit regarding the place he was in, and realized he was thankful.
Tyler finally looked up at the other man and scanned over him. He was short but fairly intimidating to him. He seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face. “What’re you staring at, kid?” He asked suddenly, voice grumbly. Tyler retreated to one of the bunks in an afraid way.
“S-Sorry, um, sir?” He honestly didn’t know how to refer to him. He did seem older, so ‘sir’ should be appropriate. The man shifted to get a better look at Tyler.
“Manners won’t get you nowhere in here,” he said slowly. “call me Pete. Pete Wentz, and don’t you fucking forget it, stringbean.” Tyler attempted to etch the name into is mind, because he had a feeling that he did not want to forget it.
“Y-Yes, okay…” He gave a short nod and a nervous, crooked grin. “I’m Ty-Tyler.”
“That ain’t shit,” he spat. “with a name like that, you won’t last a day.” Tyler was confused. What was wrong with his name? “If your last name’s tougher, go by that.”
“Joseph?” He squeaked, already feeling very uncomfortable.
“Tyler fucking Joseph? Did your parents hate you or something?” Pete scoffed. Tyler only looked away, anxiety growing by the minute. “Go by a persona then, kid. Only way you’ll survive with a wimpy-ass name like that.”
“How would I go about finding a persona?”
“Only you can figure that out. You’re real lucky you got roomed with me, the others would eat you right up. I was like you when I got in here.” Pete chuckled darkly. Tyler sighed and laid down, trying to ease his throbbing headache that was starting to develop from the loud noises. So many people were yelling. He unlaced his shoes and neatly set them on the ground. “What’re you in for anyway?”
“Manslaughter.” It rolled off his tongue easily, and he closed his eyes. Pete laughed again.
“You must be joking.”
“Maybe.”
…
“No, no! I hate you, leave me alone!”
Tyler awoke with a start, wondering how he could have possibly fallen asleep so quickly. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, seeing that things seemed mildly peaceful. He quickly realized the inmates were like toddlers. They were rowdy until they were tired. He sat up in bed, also taking note that the bars were opened. There were inmates walking around, and only a few patrolling wardens and officers were watching. In his opinion, it was unsafe. He reached down to put on his shoes, but nabbed at open air. He looked down and saw they were gone. Now shoeless and afraid, he glanced over at Pete, who surprisingly, was reading a bible. “Pete? Wh-Where are my shoes?” He simply clicked his tongue and turned the page. He was donning glasses, and in all honesty, Pete could pass as a grandpa by the way he looked.
“You gotta learn one way, right? Urie took ‘em. Cellblock 13.”
“You just let him take those? They were expensive…” He groaned. Pete just shook his head.
“It’s better than what he wanted to do. He had a nice sharp edge on his glasses he coulda’ killed you with for fun. I gently persuaded him to just go for the shoes. You’re welcome.”
“Holy crap...all this happened while I was sleeping?” Tyler ran a frustrated hand over his fluffy hair.
“I recommend you go assert yourself. Oh, and um,” His eyes flickered up to meet Tyler’s for a moment, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Tell ‘Trick I said hi. We’re not allowed in the same room anymore.” He handed Tyler a shank made of what appeared to be a toothbrush. “That’s for defense. You gotta’ establish that you’re tougher than you look. Or at least pretend to be. Now go get your shoes.” He turned back to his bible and hummed to himself. Tyler’s mouth gaped open. After a few lingering moments, he tucked the toothbrush into his sock, and went to go get revenge, beginning to swiftly walk to cellblock 13. He saw his beloved purple floral vans hanging over the bars, shoelaces knotted in a messy way. He reached up and went to take them happily, but dark, intense eyes met his.
“Those are mine,” The man said, staring straight into Tyler’s soul. “Hands off.” Tyler stumbled back in obedience, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Someone else piped up behind him in a cheerful way.
“Oh, come on Brendon! You knew Petey set you up! Just give him the shoes!”
“Shut up Patrick! Fucking Christ…” By the time Brendon turned back, Tyler was wielding his shank with shaky hands and a pale face. “What the-”
“Give them back!” Tyler demanded, but it was then that he was grabbed by the arms. He panicked and stabbed whoever the attacker was, and a round of gasps filled the air.
“That guy just stabbed a guard!” The entire facility exploded into noise as Tyler was taken down easily and was being dragged by several officers.
“You’re going in the hole!” One of them told him, having a very unnecessarily tight grip on him. He was viciously shoved into a small, dark room that only had a small ‘bean’ hole to stick food through.Tyler slowly sunk to his knees and started tearing up. He didn’t want to be there, and he was afraid. He didn’t even get his designer shoes back. He wept as quietly as possible, which in all honesty, wasn’t very quiet at all.
“Hello?” A small voice asked. Tyler stood up immediately.
“Who’s there?!” He asked frantically, voice cracking. The voice laughed.
“My name’s Josh. I’m in the room next to you…” The voice answered.
“I’m scared,” Tyler replied quickly. “A scary man stole my shoes and now I’m gonna die here…”
“With that attitude, you might.” Josh told him. He could practically hear his smile. “It’ll only be a few days for you to learn your lesson, then you’ll go back to your cell.”
Tyler sniffled and sat down on the ground. “Okay...okay…” He tried to calm himself down. “Just a few days?”
“Just a few days.”
…
“I can’t take it anymore! You always do this to me!”
“Rise and shine, buttercup.” The door is slammed open, and all Tyler can do is squint as the officers grab him on the shoulder and force him out of the room. He blearily pawed at his face and yawned as he was escorted back in with Pete. Josh had gotten out of the hole the day before him. He was curious as to what he looked like. Josh had been so kind to him. Soon, they let him go and he sat down on his bunk.
“I’d say that didn’t go well. You’re still shoeless. And you didn’t tell Patrick I said hi, you ass.” Pete told him, sighing. “I need some kind of message man to talk to him. In exchange, I’ll keep helping you out. How about that?”
“Sure, sure…” Tyler felt disgusting. He hadn’t gotten to shower. His spirits were low.
“Good. Go tell him that I can meet him during dinner if he sneaks over.”
“Wait, now? That Brendon guy is probably furious! And-And I just got out like thirty seconds ago…”
“Just go. He knows he can’t hurt a friend of mine.” Pete rolled his eyes and Tyler sighed. Once again, but with less intent to stab, he headed to cellblock 13. Brendon instantly sat up straighter as he approached. He was now wearing his shoes. Tyler nearly growled.
“Pete wanted me to say that you can meet him at dinner if you sneak over. Also, apparently, I am your message man.” He muttered, trying not to let it bother him that his once favorite shoes were now scuffed up and dirty. Patrick squealed.
“Oh great! Tell him I’ll be there.” Brendon rolled his eyes at Patrick’s cheeriness. Tyler forced a grin and started trotting back to cellblock 21, but someone stopped him, holding out his arm.
“Want a cig?” He asked Tyler, flashing a pack of cigarettes. He shook his head shortly.
“Oh, no, I don’t smoke…” The burly man then grunted, pulling a single one out.
“You do now. Take it.” He ordered, and Tyler took it out of fear. He then cowardly continued on his way, looking at the cigarette in his hand. Pete did a double take as soon as he came in.
“Where did you get that?” He demanded.
“A-A guy told me to take it! You want it?” Pete slapped it out of his hands and gripped Tyler by his shoulders.
“Nothing is free here, dumbass! He’s gonna make you repay him, and that can range from smuggling drugs to being his b-” Tyler suddenly screamed, even more distressed.
“I don’t know what to do! I’m gonna get murdered! ” He wailed, wanting to burst into tears, but he bit back that desire.
“Calm down!” Pete told him, gritting his teeth. “You’ll find your clique here and you’ll be fine!” The world was spinning too fast and he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. Tyler went limp suddenly. Panic attacks weren’t uncommon for him, and they quite often ended with him unconscious.
…
After waking up and calming down a very afraid Pete that thought Tyler was dead, he decided to do some exploring and head out to the yard. Some inmates were playing ball. He recognized Brendon and Patrick playing cards, but that was it. Pete muttered something about, “Seeing ‘Trick,” and left him alone with his thoughts. Tyler just stood there awkwardly, then wandered awkwardly. He wasn’t sure where to go. Everyone was in their own group participating in some activity. Then, he saw the guy that gave him a smoke. He attempted to hide his face, but the burly man was already approaching.
“Hey, kid!” He called, stomping over. Tyler swallowed thickly while looking up at him. He hadn’t realized how… large he was. The man’s fist was probably the size of Tyler’s chest. He couldn’t say anything, finding it physically impossible to breathe. “I got a job for you,” He started, tilting his head. “That guy right there, Stump, he owes me a lot of cash. Go sucker punch that bitch and we can be even.” The man pointed straight at Patrick. Tyler wrung his hands nervously. He had seemed so cheery and kind, he couldn’t hit him for no reason. But, it didn’t seem he had a choice. With a heavy sigh, he waltzed over to the small group of Pete, Patrick, and Brendon. He punched the bright-eyed blonde right in the nose with a sickening crunch. He reeled back and held his already bloody nose, and tears rolled down his face. Tyler felt terrible. However, before he could even begin to explain himself, Pete stood up with vigor in his eyes and grabbed Tyler by the throat.
“What the fuck!?” He hollered in his face, starting to wring his neck through his hands. Others crowded around, wondering what the fuss was about. His vision was turning red, and he was sputtering, trying to regain control over his breathing. Suddenly, Pete was ripped off of him. Tyler laid on the ground, clawing at his throat. He looked up at his savior. He was a man that looked to be in his twenties, like Tyler, but he had bright dyed red hair. He shoved Pete into Brendon, causing them to fall into each other. The mystery man held out his hand to Tyler. He gratefully took it and stood up.
“I’m Josh,” The man winked. “I thought I recognized your crying.” Tyler beamed and chuckled, momentarily forgetting the situation.
“You’re the guy from the hole…”
“Yep. Salutations.” He shook his hand that he was still holding onto. Tyler tilted his head.
“Crackers?” He smiled awkwardly, confused. Pete was up again, helping Patrick and trying to stop the bleeding, all the while glaring at Tyler.
“Something like that. Come on, let’s get out of here. They’re staring.” Tyler obeyed and trotted behind his new friend, going back into the building.