My brain doesn't feel like it's even working, this place I'm in seems to drain me of everything that makes me who I am. With a loud and frustrated sigh, I lean my head back against the cold wall, the thin orange jumpsuit barely protects me from the cold, a shiver runs through me spreading from the goosebumps on top of my bruised skin all the way down to the depths of my bones. Feelings, memories and fears have been the only thing on my mind. The first time I was in prison I knew there would be a day I would get out, a day that I would really see the world and breathe fresh air again, and that's exactly what happened. Jack and MacGyver got me out of this hell hole, I traveled the world, I saw places and experienced things I never thought could ever happen to me. Then the other shoe dropped.
I did something very bad with good intensions, just like the first time I did something knowing I would end up stuck in a little room in this horrible orange jumpsuit. I would never let anything bad happen to the people I care for. No. The people I love. However, the biggest difference this time there will be no freedom, I'm not getting out. Saving the people I love has cost me my own life, my own freedom. This little room and orange jumpsuit is my life now, and this is exactly where my life will end.
A tear slips down my cheek. In any other situation, I would have wiped the tear away, never wanting to show any sign of weakness. Now, what's the point? I've been beaten senseless and even if Jack or MacGyver wanted to get me out they wouldn't be able to, they wouldn't even want to try, with what they think I've done I wouldn't be surprised if they never came to visit. I have no hope anymore.
Time in a place like this is different to the outside world. An hour feels like a year, and a year feels like 10. I'm not exactly sure how much time had passed before my cell door swings open reveling on very angry looking man and one younger looking lad. The older man uniform looks well-worn with what looks like old ketchup stains on his front, or maybe its blood, who even knows in a place like this. The second man doesn't look much older than 20, his baby face down make him intimidating in the slightest, he even looks like a gentleman, the type of man every woman hopes her daughter would date. I wonder how he ended up in a place like this?
"get up" guard no.1 demands, he takes a few steps forwards before pulling out his nightstick.
"are you fucking def? I said get up", I can't even bring myself to fear the guards or worry they might decide to have ago at beating me as well.
"miss, you have visitors" just as I suspected, guard no.2 is polite and respectful.
I knew the authorities would come asking questions about exactly what damage I caused. Gingerly raise myself from the floor, all my bruises and abrasions pulling and screaming for me to stop. I wince as I take a step forward, my left leg is especially sore from the 'welcome back to prison' beating I received. Motioning for me to keep going I slowly walk out my cell. Guard no.1 grabs my forearm tightly forcing me forward, however guard no.2 has a hold on my forearm as well but he is much more gentle, I'm sure he has noticed my injuries. Looking up I give him a small thankful smile, he nods his head obviously trying to stay professional.
A small spark of hope runs though me, last time I was in this room I was given a second chance at freedom, now I know I'm just going to be bombarded with unwanted question that I can't and never will answer.
When we get to the door guard no.2 stays behind as guard no.1 pulls me forward into the room. There is one stainless steel table bolded to the floor and two chairs, naturally guard no.1 practically throws me into the chair forcing a quiet whimper to escape my lips. Roughly he pushed my chair forwards and handcuffs me to the table, pulling the cuffs extra tight causing them to pinch my skin painfully. My head leans forwards, hair covering my face and hopefully all my visible bruises. Of course, I can't hide the ones decorating my arms.
The one-way window has always given me a weird feeling, the people on the other side could be doing literally anything and I would have no idea, I hate the feeling of not knowing. The sound of the door opening makes my heart jump, I so desperately want to look up but I don't want to show any of my bruises to my 'visitors'. When they sit down we stay sitting in silence for what feels like a long time, I stubbornly will not be the one to break the silence, that's up to them.
"Riley?"
Without even meaning to my head snaps up and my eyes connect with Jacks. I'm speechless, I was so sure they would never want to ever see me again and even if they did visit it would be to yell and accuse me of all my crimes and wrong doings. I especially never ever thought they would speak to me with such gentle tones and look at me with such loving eyes. Ever again. Once my shock subsides I look to my right and my eyes meet MacGyver's. The words never seem to form in my mouth, it's up to one of them to speak.
"Riley, we came here to talk to you about…what happened"
More like what I did. I can barely breathe, I'm so happy to see familiar faces but my happiness is short lived and it quickly turns to embarrassment as I watch them take in my physical condition, self-consciously I shift in my seat trying to fiddle the cuffs or try and get my rolled-up sleeves to cover my arms.
"Riley what- what the hell happened to you?"
I was jack this time, concern written all over his face. MacGyver has the same look mirrored on his own features. Jack glances towards the one-way mirror, making me wonder who could possibly be on the other side. Could it be Thornton? Or even Bozer? Maybe Nikki?
"oh, you know, just a 'welcome back to prison, hope you haven't forgotten who's boss around here' beating"
I try to sound light heated but that becomes more difficult with the constant pain my body is in. Both Mac and Jack look horrified by my care free demeanor, honestly though they would probably be even more horrified by how I really feel. Mac visibly takes a long deep breath before continuing.
"we need to know exactly what information you leaked"
Back to business I guess.