Rating: T Beta: Melanie39, huge snuggle for Melly.
Disclaimer: I still don't own The OC, Ryan or Benjamin McKenzie.
Story: AU - What if things had gone a little differently for Ryan when that Camero crashed. What if he didn't get off quite so lightly?
Notes: This chapter is tame but it will be getting a tad nasty as time goes by.
ETA: Forgot to mention that this fic is dedicated to our lovely maudegonne as I've been promising her a juvie fic for blooming ages.
Lock Down
"Take it Ryan, just take it. I can't be found with this shit on me man, I'd be fucked."
Ryan remembered Trey's words as he listened to the judge sentencing him to thirty-six months inside. His PD had managed to work miracles as it was his first offence, and his sentence could have been a lot higher, but even he hadn't been able to make the intent to deal rap disappear.
To put it bluntly he was screwed.
Now he was traveling to the place that would be his 'home' for the next three years, The Herman G. Stark Youth Correctional Facility in Chino. It was something that parents used to scare their kids with as they were grew up… 'If you don't behave we'll send you to stay with Uncle Stark, that'll make you change your ways'. Ryan remembered watching a harsh documentary about the place the previous year. It had a high suicide rate and about an eighty percent re-offending rate. Even though the state had obviously tried to show the facility in a good light the seething violence was plain to see, threatening to bust out of the crisp, white, sanitized layer the governor had lain over the grey brick buildings. The place had scared the shit outta him back then and that was when he was safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't be doing anything that would mean a stay inside. Of course, that wasn't accounting for his brother Trey deciding to teach him how to steal cars and dumping eighteen grams of horse on him.
Fucking great, huh? What were big brothers for but to land you time in the big house? Of course it was his own fault for going along with Trey. He could have refused to take the zip lock baggie but to be honest a crashed stolen Camaro with the cops bearing down fast had not exactly been a conducive place when it came to making life-changing decisions.
His PD had done his best to change his mind, he'd seen through the tissue of lies that he'd spun regarding the drugs. He'd never been a good liar and his public defender had taken one look at Trey's record and come up with pretty much the exact series of events in the car just before he'd been arrested. His lawyer told him like it was. He could get him probation for being a passenger in a stolen vehicle but he was going down for the class A's found on him unless he told the truth. As much as he wanted to trust the guy with the easy smile and outrageous brows he couldn't. He couldn't rat out his brother. That might be what they did in New York where his lawyer grew up but it wasn't what you did in Chino. No way. Ryan could never have lived with himself knowing he'd been the one that landed his brother with a big sentence, and if people in Chino found out he'd sold his brother down the river then what good was probation if you were dead for being a rat bastard? Nope, as far as he could see it he had no choice, no matter what his lawyer told him.
He'd have to suck it up and get through the next three years the best he could and hope that he'd get time off for good behavior.
Ryan shifted in his seat in the back of the prison van. His clothes were already creased and he didn't know why he'd bothered dressing good for his hearing. It wasn't like they had made any difference but Theresa's mom had insisted he dress to impress and show the judge respect, she even insisted on buying the clothes for him. It had embarrassed him to have to once more accept his neighbour's charity. Ever since they'd first moved to Chino he'd had to rely on Theresa and her mom, and seeing as his own mother had skipped town and dumped all his belongings in the trash he'd had no choice but to continue to lean on them for the help he always seemed to need.
He felt like he'd let them down big time. Their faces showed the heartbreak clearly, he'd fucked up again.
The handcuffs bit into his wrists and he couldn't sit back without cutting off the blood supply to his hands so he sat forward with his head bent, not looking at the other occupants of the van but choosing the floor. Already the fortified glass at the windows was starting to freak him out. They were all heading to the same place and he didn't want anyone to see the fear in his eyes. Where he was going showing any form of weakness was a recipe for disaster, he knew that, but he needed to get his head around the fact that from now on he would be watched twenty-four seven. If it wasn't the guards then his fellow inmates would be picking at any thread that they could unravel. To Ryan that scared him more than anything. He was solitary by nature and not being able to escape scrutiny filled him with dread more than his sentence did. The grills at the dirty windows seemed to make the other cars on the road want to swerve closer and look in, like they were getting a free show at the zoo. It was just something he'd have to deal with, but for now he stared at a piece of crud on the floor at his feet and tried not to think of what the hell he'd let himself in for.
The van came to a standstill and the sound of slamming doors told him that they'd reached their destination. The doors were wrenched open and a voice told them to stand, which they all did. They were then told to file out one by one. Ryan stood on the hard, dusty ground and took his first look at The Herman G. Stark Youth Correctional Facility. They were stood in a large courtyard, the walls behind him were tall and topped with several levels of razor wire and beyond that seemed to be another chain link fence, similarly topped with the obligatory wire. Several lines of bleachers banked either side of them and a couple of rusty hoops were nailed to the brick walls. Somehow Ryan didn't get the sense that free and easy games went on here.
One of the guards stepped forward with his hands on his belt. Ryan's gaze was drawn to the can of pepper spray and nightstick hanging pride of place from the polished leather. The guard was about 5"10 of solid muscle and a sardonic smile a mile wide. He introduced himself as Officer McCray but they could call him 'sir'. He started to bark at them immediately. Ryan was taken back to watching 'Full Metal Jacket' with Trey. The guy was obviously a frustrated Marine Corps drill sergeant.
"You will listen to what we say at all times. You will obey us and you will address us as 'Sir' at all times. If we say you run, you run. If we say sleep, you will sleep and if we tell you to take a shit then you'd better be ready to take a shit. Got that?"
It was obvious he was enjoying his little power trip but Ryan knew that he wasn't all talk like some bullies. This guy had the cold, dead eyes of a sadistic bastard; Ryan had been up close with enough in his time to tell that this guy had the back up to his words.
"In here you'll be treated like adults. From this point in be ready to give up sucking on your momma's titties because you are now the property of the Californian correctional program…we own you ….no one gives a crap about you once you are within these walls. You're scum and you'll be treated accordingly. This is no state funded trip to summer camp and you better believe that us upstanding taxpayers will make sure our tax dollars are not being wasted. I can guarantee that your time here will be harsh…learn from it and we'll all get along fine but if you think you can come in here and run the show like you've been getting away with on the outside then you are in for a world of shit." The guard smiled a slow and deliberate smile that didn't reach his eyes. Several of the other guards gave snorting laughs at his words.
All through the rant Ryan kept his face impassive and his eyes to the front, not looking directly at the guard as he walked up and down in front of them. He kept his stare neutral and stared at a point always just beyond the guard's head, neither challenging nor indifferent. First impressions lasted but Ryan could feel the kid next to him shaking and he didn't need to look to see that the kid was crying or fighting tears. Ryan cringed internally. His personality dictated that he offer some form of reassurance that this would be okay but he also knew from growing up in Chino that allegiances made now could make or break you and the way that the guard was enjoying the discomfort of the kid next to him told him to keep looking ahead.
"Well, lookee here, it appears we have a Mary-Sue amongst us." Again the other guards sniggered and it was clear that they were the lap dogs to McCray's wolf. He stood in front of the kid.
"What's your name, boy?"
The kid stuttered.
"Sam…S…Sam B…b…ourdain."
"Sam Bourdain…what?" He turned his back.
Sam didn't say anything and Ryan could feel confusion radiate off the kid.
"You have five seconds, boy!" McCray said coldly. "One….two…"
Sam shifted and his shoulder rested against Ryan. He could feel the kid trembling. The other inmates in the row all started to shift in waiting expectancy as to what was going to happen next. Ryan could feel the excitement swell around him and relief that they hadn't been the ones to fuck up.
"Three…" McCray's back was still facing them as he counted but his hand was twitching on his nightstick. Ryan had a bad feeling about this. Shit…why the fuck had he the misfortune of standing next to the green kid who obviously didn't know the rules?
Fuck.
"Four."
"Sir." Ryan hissed out the corner of his mouth.
The kid next to him stiffened.
"Sam Bourdain…S…sir." He may have been a wuss but at least the kid was quick on the uptake.
McCray slowly turned and his lip curled into a shit-eating grin as he locked his eyes on Ryan.
"Well, well…it seems that we have a mother hen to go along with our Mary-Sue and what might your name be, hen?" McCray shoved his face so close to Ryan's that he could smell the sour tang of salami and pickles he'd obviously eaten for lunch on his breath.
"Ryan Atwood, sir." Ryan kept his voice steady and even. He still deployed his tactic of focusing on a point in the distance.
"Atwood…Atwood? Now where have I heard that name before?" McCray stared at him and Ryan's heart sunk. He had a pretty good idea as to what was coming.
"Let me see…Atwood…any relation to one Trey Atwood, I wonder?" He gave Ryan an evil grin.
Ryan shut his eyes briefly. The next time he saw his fucking brother he was going to pound the crap out of him. All his life he'd lived with the legacy his brother had left for him... and it wasn't a good one.
"Yes sir…my brother, sir." It stuck in Ryan's craw to have to say 'sir' to the guard but the game was well and truly on now.
"I have many fond memories of your brother, we all do." He half turned and acknowledged that the other guards could join in.
"Oh yeah…Trey was a riot." One guard said.
"He was a fucking prick." Another snarled.
"Trey certainly was a stand up kinda guy. I'll look forward to getting to know his little brother." Again the sick smile played on McCray's face.
Fucking great, Ryan thought.
He'd been at the facility less than twenty minutes and already he was marked out, thanks to Trey. He'd heard enough of his brother's drunken stories of his time here to know these guys would want payback.
McCray stepped back and walked over to the other guards. He said something that sounded suspiciously like 'watch him' and Ryan had no doubt that it was him they were talking about. Ryan deliberately didn't move or show that he was bothered by their scrutiny. He felt like his lungs were going to burst and he realized that he'd been holding his breath….waiting.
Then the moment of tension was gone.
They were all ordered to file into the block to be processed and given a once over by the facilities medical officer.
Sam whispered a hurried thanks to his back but Ryan ignored him.
Why hadn't he just kept his mouth shut? Maybe then he could have flown under everybody's radar for a while until they focused their ire onto someone else but no, he had to jump in with both feet, didn't he?
When would he learn?
TBC