As expected, my body wouldn't stop trembling from the cold. It felt like it was night, but the concrete made it hard to determinate completely. I lay my arms around my self, feeling the fresh burn marks on my shoulders. My body was full of bruises and scratches from head to toe. There were a few cuts and bite marks here and there too.

Conaire used his knife now, but luckily, he only made small cuts with it. Conaire was responsible for the bite marks, cuts and most of the scratches, but the soldier had done all the bruising. His way of getting information out of you was a simple beating.

Conaire wasn't after information, he had said that himself, but if he were, I'd fancy the soldiers method instead of Conaire's.

I heard the well known sound of the door opening, but I didn't respond to it. I lay with my back against the door, so I would surely receive a kick for that if my quest was Conaire.

I listened to the footsteps; they weren't almost soundless and small, like someone walked on their toes only. It wasn't Conaire then. They were neither strict nor loud, so it wasn't the soldier either.

I raised my eyebrows and looked at the door now. Other then those two, the sniper had only been here once together with the medic, but they had only looked at me and then left. I looked back at the wall when the steps stopped in front of the door. I could hear someone breathing quickly outside the door. I stayed down on the floor, still looking at the wall while waiting for the door to open. When it finally opened, it was a slow and unsteady movement.

The silence of two people breathing remained. It felt like minutes before my guest spoke.

''Y-yo… so you're the chick…'' he stopped speaking and I started,

''Oh yeah, I'm the chick''

I heard him moving his feet impatiently or nervously.

''Yeah… that…'' he murmured and the silence reappeared for a while.

''Why are you here?'' I asked, still not turning around to face him. If he wanted the same as Conaire, or just one of the things Conaire wanted, I hoped he would settle for blowjob. I could still feel Conaire's treatment from yesterday.

''Ugh, ya' know… I just…'' his voice died out shortly, ''I-I brought you food'' he murmured and the noise from a plate being put down mingled through the cell.

I felt my muscles tense; I didn't now when the last time someone had brought me food.

''Hey, how long have I been here?'' I asked while thinking about the question myself.

''It's a week today…'' he murmured and I sighed.

''Okay, so besides the food, what do you want me to do?'' I asked exhausted, hoping to get done quickly.

''W-what do you mean?'' he asked surprised and started to feel angry.

''What do you think I mean? Seriously, why the hell do you think they keep me here? I have no more information to tell them, but that sick bastard, Conaire, and the soldier keeps me here for their sick needs!'' I yelled in anger and closed my eyes before turning my face to him, knowing he would notice the bite marks that followed my jaw line,

''look at me…'' my voice was only a whisper now and I kept my eyes closed. I heard him choke on a gasp and taking a few steps back.

''W-wait… Y-y-you're…'' he stuttered and I opened my eyes, looking directly at him.

The silence returned as we stared speechless at each other.

''Russ…'' I whispered and slowly tried to get up.

There was no doubt about it, it was Russel. The bruises and scratches on his face were gone, so the rest of them probably were too. For the first time in over a week, I smiled. It was a faint smile, but it was there.

''Russ, you're alright…'' I whispered happily. His eyes were still confused but he quickly came closer and helped me up.

''Cyan… Cyan, what the hell are you doing here?'' he spoke quickly and almost yelled.

''The same thing as you'' I spoke quietly, still smiling while looking up at him. He had gotten taller the last three years, but that was only natural.

''B-but why did you- and even on the RED team? Fucking hell?'' he groaned before turning his back on me and pressing both his hands against his head.

''They asked… a guy asked me after the others and I had finished our baseball game… I guess he saw me running and they needed scouts… and I kinda needed the money…'' I murmured, ''Come on Russ, I didn't even know you were still alive!'' I wanted to get closer to him, but my knees let me fall when I tried to take a step.

Russel quickly turned and almost fell down to me. He didn't say a word and I looked down on the floor while pressing my lips together. I felt one of his hands slowly lift my shirt a little, so he could see my stomach. It didn't take many second before he let it fall back down.

''Conaire, that fucked up French queer and fag face!'' Russel hissed in anger and stood back up. ''I swear, I'll do something to him! I'll-''

''Russ…'' I interrupted him softly, ''I don't care what else you do, just, please, get me out of here…'' I whispered in a fragile voice.

He sat next to me with clenched hands for a while, thinking. Well, he had never been the brightest person, but his will replaced that.

''I heard some of the fags talking about moving... We kicked your team ass' yesterday, fucking queers...'' Russel smirked but groaned when I smacked him in the back of his head,

''Talk nice about my team or you're the freaking queer'' I smiled faintly and he glared at me,

''Let me fucking finish... if the rest of the fags move to that crappy base, someone gotta stay behind'' Russel murmured to himself and looked at me with an emotion that was close to grief. ''Ya' know, it's kinda my fault that you're here… If I had noticed that bomb a little faster then this-''

''Oh shut up, Russ…'' I interrupted him again.

He usually never took the blame for anything; he was too proud for that. But if he ever did, then he would struggle with the guilt for a while.

''So… that or those persons will only act as defence?''

Russel nodded slowly, still looking like he was thinking for two.

''I'm sorry to say it, but you're a scout, we really aren't made for defence…'' I smiled faintly.

''True… but that doesn't mean that they won't allow me to stay, oh sure, I'm the best runner and yeah, I hurt people pretty good, but-''

''But it was kinda you who were hurt earlier'' my smile grew and he glared shortly at me,

''BUT! I'll just tell them a lie or some crap… maybe I should talk this over with Aussie… he's usually good at shit like this…'' he murmured the last part to himself and stood up.

I looked softly at him. He was still his usual self; a little arrogant, proud and determined about his choices. It had really been three years since our last baseball game and our usual races in the small alleys and streets of southern Boston.

He would be 20 now, since I was one year younger then him and I was 19.

I used to like him, quite a lot too… and now where I was with him again, I guess I still liked him. I looked at the plate, remembering the food and I instantly started to shove it into my mouth. When the plate was empty and I had swallowed the last food, Russel exhaled heavily.

''I better head back to the others… I'll keep Conaire busy with something, but I dunno if I can keep that shit head away from here…'' he paused and looked like he was struggling with the words, ''if… if the others ask, tell them I did some shit to you or something fucked… if they know, that we know each others, then I can't do a shit… got it?'' he looked seriously at me and I nodded quietly.

He shoved his hands down into his pockets,

''see ya'…'' he murmured before leaving a little quick.

I didn't say a word; I just waited for the last door to close before smiling to myself. Right now, I didn't care much about Conaire. I was just glad that Russel was okay…

A/N

Okay, first, again, I hope you like this story.

Second, Russ, short for Russel, means red and it's an American name.

Third, Cyan means blue and it's also an American name.

Fourth, as we all know, scout isn't very old, so I thought that was an okay age for him.