The morning sun poured in through the window, seemingly defying the crooked and mangled blinds in an effort to irritate the sleeping form that lay against the disheveled bedsheets.

Dan flinched, groaning as he raised his hands to his eyes and groaning discontentedly before finally shoving the covers aside. Shifting into a sitting position, he recalled the thoughts that had haunted him the past few days as Stone Temple Pilots Wicked Garden droned on the radio in the background.

Walking to his closet, he carefully picked his attire for the day which was different, to say the least. Gray faded jeans and a powder blue polo shirt were draped over the bed railing as Dan went to the bathroom, emerging later having showered and styled his hair so that it was unusually smoothed completely unlike his usual spiky mess of hair.

He slipped his clothes on and moved toward the cluttered nightstand, fingers and eyes searching alike until the small card was located. Taking his wallet, he placed the card inside. It would prove very useful later.

He took a deep breath for a moment before reaching for the bottle of Reposado that lay beside his bed and took a quick drink. At least this would calm the anxiousness he already felt.


In part he dreaded what lay ahead, but it was necessary to put things to rest.

The drive was conveniently uneventful for the most part. He was surprised that the information was so easily obtained for where he needed to go. Of course, having firsthand access to someone who'd been incarcerated made things so much easier. He half smiled at this as he reached over to the radio, finding himself growing tired of the drivel of radio talk shows and instead opting for a worn CD of Judas Priest that his once friend Ted had left in his car.

After nearly nine long hours of driving in sweltering heat, the building loomed in sight over dry flat desert – the infamous High Desert State Prison of Susanville CA. This was the mighty fortress; the unrivaled of correctional institutions in all of California. Only those with innumerable crimes went here. It was also this sort of prison that could either harden or break a criminal once and for all. Few left the same as they went in if they left at all.

Pulling up to the guard station, he cursed as the CD player had decided to malfunction, instead continuously playing Painkiller. After a few frustrated attempts at pressing buttons, he instead opted to lower the volume right as the guard stepped up, waiting impatiently for his ID.

"Alright, Mr. Wellington. You seem to be on the visitation roster." The hulking officer confirmed and pulled a lever opening the gates.

Dan merely smiled and waved his thanks as he left for the parking lot. Once parked, he cursed under his breath at how he detested such pleasantries, openly mocking himself for being reduced to such behavior. Then again, a prison teaming with police and guardsmen was the last place in which anyone should attempt rudeness.


Taking a look at the building he took in the sight of it, standing in awe before finally entering. He could've easily been the one in there instead of the one who so foolishly had stolen his identity. It was he who really belonged locked away. He swore if his imposter fucked this up for him..

Inside the halls of the visitation area rang with the curses of unruly inmates and the stench of pine scented cleanser hung thickly in the air. Making his way to a desk, he again showed his false identity earning a nod from the officer seated there. He took a seat, shifting awkwardly in his chair as a call was made to the holding area. The familiar thoughts and feelings began washing over him like a deluge of scalding water, much to his dismay. Why now of all times? This earned a look from the officer across the desk and Dan feigned a weak smile.

"Your first time visiting a prison facility, I take it?" the burly man asked, offering conversation.

Dan fiddled with his shirt collar for a moment, somewhat resentful of his nervousness as he forced himself to answer with his best lie. "Yes, I'll admit it's a bit intimidating what with the dangerous sorts here."

The officer smiled reassuringly as he sorted a few papers together on his desk.

"Well, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. The booths are completely separated by a thick sheet of shatterproof plexiglass. We haven't had a single incident yet."

Tapping his fingers impatiently against the well worn wooden arm of the chair, Dan awaited the arrival of his imposter. He'd intentionally referred to himself as his brother which would permit that they could talk in a closed off however guarded room free of barricades, if he so chose. Of course with such a privilege, a strip search was required of both visitors and inmates for safety reasons.

Not too long afterward the loudspeaker rang out announcing the arrival of his nemesis and Dan stood, walking with some hesitance to the booth. Taking a seat, he made it a point not to stare at his him until he was seated, which was noted in curiosity by the identity thief.

The imposter himself hadn't changed much at all visually. Aside from the slight stubble that covered his face, he maintained the illusion of Dan just as well as Dan himself had remembered.

"What brings you here, Biff?" The imposter asked with somewhat of a dark undercurrent to his voice, but still as smug as ever even despite his situation.

Dan hesitated for a moment, before swallowing whatever nervousness remained. Was he really going to tell him why he had come here? No, that might not be a very good idea. But what other reasonable explanations were there? To torment the one whom he'd falsely imprisoned? That seemed like a good enough facade for the time being.

Folding his arms across his chest, he smiled. "It occurred to me that I hadn't taken time to follow up on you. I just wanted to rub it in your face that you'd lost. I'll be doing this for a long time, I promise you that much." His grin turned from innocent to venomous after such a remark, but whether or not his act was believable remained to be seen.

The imposter's own expression grew dark almost as though he could lose it for a moment until the realization sunk in and a smile replaced the scowl he'd had for a split second.

"That was very clever. You almost had me there, Biff." You don't have to say anything. I've learned enough when I'd studied you before. It won't take me long to find out what you're hiding.

Dan on the other hand maintained his calm, even despite wanting to punch the smug look off the imposter's face.

"I'm not hiding anything. You should quit assuming you know everything, it's really unattractive. I assure you, my only reason for being here is to watch you squirm and fester from the consequences of your stupid little mistake." He spoke with an edge to his voice.

The imposter merely smiled back at him, leaning slightly back in his chair. "If that's so, why was I informed that you listed yourself as my brother?" He watched with great pleasure as the real Dan's expression faltered, and apparently searching for an excuse that he couldn't give.

"None of your fucking business, that's why." Dan spoke through gritted teeth as he loomed closer to the plexiglass.

The imposter took all of this in, his smile becoming wider by the second.

"I've caught you in your little lie, admit it, Biff. I mean if you really hated me, why would you go through all the trouble of saying we were related? I'm sure if you felt the way you say, the last thing you'd want is to even think that we shared genetic DNA. There is something you aren't telling me, isn't there? You're whole trip will have been pointless unless you just admit it."

With this, the imposter perched his boots on the small ledge on his side of the booth awaiting Dan's next response.

Dan's eyes roamed the room, as he took note of several other people at the other booths. This limited what he wanted to say. The very idea of revealing the truth in front of an audience left him feeling more than uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you here. Listen, since I've listed myself as being related to you, they'll permit us to speak in a special meeting room. I'll just be a minute." The imposter simply nodded as he watched Dan leave. This revelation that whatever Dan had to say was so secret that it required isolation from everyone else had made him both eager and somewhat hesitant. Regardless it was only a matter of minutes before he'd have his answer.