Inside by InSilva

Summary: Eleven men go into the joint. (With apologies to otherhawk for the paraphrase). One-shot.

Disclaimer: none of the Eleven are my creation.

A/N: Firstly, I have no doubt you will guess where the inspiration for this came from. And I have to acknowledge an offpage conversation. And to apologise in advance. Oh, also, this story's about as long as this A/N. Probably too short to post but OWWTH.


Danny went inside minus a wife and minus a partner which only fuelled his determination to reclaim both when he got out again.

The first week, he became Daniel Ocean: easy-going, easy-talking, moving never too fast and never too slow. Never intimidating but never a pushover. Hiding himself in a part he played to guard and con alike.

At night, he would emerge from the husk, stare at the bunk above him and plan. Danny believed in putting spare time to good use.


Frank had known what to expect. His cousin, Marcel, had been to the same prison a year previous and he'd given him a first hand account.

The first week, Marcel's name opened up some friendships amongst the old-timers and saved Frank a month or two of building acquaintance.

Frank kept his head down and yessirred and nosirred to the right people on both sides of the bars. It kept life smooth and that was what Frank wanted.


Yen did not say much to anyone. He scowled a lot though and word got round that the little Chinese guy could curse with the best of them.

The first week, Yen studied the walls and floors and tiles and spaces as well as committing the guards' routines to heart.

At the end of the first week, Yen had disappeared.


Reuben had been lavish with his gifts to the warden and had found a cell for one waiting. It was not the luxury he had come to expect but the regular food and cigar parcels from outside helped.

The first week, the parcels also helped people understand that Reuben could get anything for anyone. And once that was understood, life was sweet.


Turk ended up in a fight before the end of the first day on account of what someone had said about his brother.

The first week, he went underground with his fists. People started betting on him and he discovered a generous cut from the illegal fights was enough to buy him protection.


Linus was as nervous as he ever was. Wide-eyed and worried, he'd followed the guard along the corridor and into the cell where his new cellmate was waiting.

The man introduced himself as Kirby and Linus swallowed because Kirby looked as if he could handle himself. Then he found out that Kirby had been paid – "shitloads of money" ­- by Bobby to look after him.

The first week, Linus came to realise that he did indeed have immunity and he started to relax.


Saul played the part of a frightened, old man and didn't have to act too hard. He kept himself to the background and let himself be pushed around a little.

The first week, he established himself as generally harmless and people's eyes glided over him. Job done. He was left alone.


Basher treated prison as a bit of a laugh. He was confident and smiling and didn't take no shit from no one. He was immediately popular.

The first week, he became liked and respected and after that he was merely counting the days.


Virgil wondered if he might find prison inspirational. He started his first poem the first night and shared its truth with his cellmate.

The first week, he was on his way to filling a notebook and had become revered as the man who spoke honestly with beauty.

He also led the rooftop protest. Both times.


Livingston didn't stop sweating from the moment of arrest till the moment the cell door shut behind him. Then the sweat stopped. For all of a nanosecond.

He slunk a lot and tried to hide but ran into trouble almost immediately. As fists were drawn back, he begged them not to hit his body as he had sensitive equipment concealed. One fist landed anyway before saner heads prevailed and curious hands patted Livingston down and he was asked to explain the wizardry uncovered.

The first week, Livingston became the man you went to for free and secure phone calls anywhere in the world.


Rusty stopped washing as soon as he was arrested and he let his hair and beard grow.

The first week, he spent gathering information and picking fights with the toughest: letting himself be known as a man who could handle himself, punch hard and who fought with a gleam in his eye so dangerous that you couldn't trust him to stick to any kind of rules.

Then he'd come up against the biggest and hardest man in there. As he picked himself up from the floor for the seventh time, the other declared him to have big cojones and clapped him on the back.

Rusty told him he'd heard that he lost at poker a lot and asked if he'd like things to change.

From then on in, he was grinning through his beard all the way to his release date.