February
"Thus the jury finds that one Third Degree is found guilty of the unintentional homicide of villain Secondhand. Because of the evidence presented in court and the testimony of time agency members Fintan and Emma, his sentence is reduced to two years in prison."
I looked over my shoulder at Lydia. She, Knight and her father all had tears in their eyes as they watched the guards lead me away. I faced the doors before I was led through them, stalwart though my sentence was yet to be carried out. Two years? Hell…I could handle that, and on the other side, Lydia would be waiting.
Five days later I wasn't so sure of myself. Saving my entire family from the terror of the Mortis Angelus had not stopped prison from being the hellhole I remembered from another life. If I had been smart I would have kept my head low, learning the lesson that the other dimension should have taught me. Instead I was suffering déjà vu almost every day. Especially today…
I craned my head around, trying to look for an escape. Stitches leered above me, looking insanely normal without his villain get-up. I saw my panicked expression in the piece of glass he held. Blood dripped down the glass and into my face from his hand. He didn't seem to mind that the weapon was gnawing into his own flesh- as long as he had a chance at cutting mine.
"Hoity-toity little pyro isn't so proud now," he crowed in a sing-song voice, "Been here almost a week and I still haven't marked you. We all have to have a mark. HaHaHAHA!"
I grimaced as the glass stuck into my cheek. The sounds of the guards struggling to open the cell door were drowned out by my own growl of pain. Wasn't Stitches supposed to be locked up in some asylum? He certainly looked too crazy to be stuck here with the reject criminals of the villain world, people, who like me were convicted for crimes they weren't really responsible for, or for minor offenses that would keep them in jumpsuits for a year or two.
Struggling with the crazy man, I managed to roll over on top of him. His hand flung the glass, narrowly missing my head as it shattered on the far wall. The sound alerted the guards to work more urgently and in a minute they were through the door, pacifying us both with annoying force. I grunted into the floor, trying to form the words to explain away my own guilt in the whole situation.
"Solitary for both of them," I heard one of the guards say as we were both locked in handcuffs. I saw Stitches' head turn to grin at me as he was taken away.
"Wait," I grunted as they dragged me to my feet, "Wait, he attacked me! It wasn't me!"
"Yeah, yeah," the guard answered, not at all interested. He noticed the cut on my face then, "We'll take you to get that cleaned up- and then it's solitary. You can have visits again in two weeks."
I growled, frustrated as they dragged me away through the halls. Two weeks wasn't anything, but this time I had Lydia. This time I knew she'd be coming, and this time I could actually talk to her. Two weeks was forever with that knowledge.
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"How'd you get the scar?" Lydia asked with a frown, tracing it in the air behind the other side of the glass window.
"Rat attacked me in the middle of the night," I offered with a half-hearted smirk. Self-conscious of her staring I ran a hand over my shaved head and stared at the dirty counter in front of me.
"Really?"
"Might as well have been."
"Warren," she said, in a pleading sort of way. I looked up and noticed she looked paler than normal, swallowing nervously. "Warren I have something to tell you. I knew before the trial, but I didn't want to make things harder for you- I guess it's best to just say it." She ran a hand through her auburn hair, strands tempting me to reach through the glass to touch them.
"Then say it."
"I'm pregnant," she offered, glancing down, freckled brow wrinkled with worry. "It's-"
"Twins," I finished with her, grinning madly. Her head shot up and she returned the smile, color returning to her face.
"I thought you'd be upset…"
"Couldn't be if I wanted to," I answered, pressing my hand against the glass. I wished I could just melt the damn thing and touch her face and hands and lips and tell her how happy I was. The emotions I'd avoided feeling during my first couple weeks behind bars bubbled up at the words, forcing me to look down and blink rapidly. There was no way I was going to cry, even if she was by the time I looked up again.
She scooted forward on her chair and put her hand to mine over the glass with a smile. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she wiped them away with an annoyed expression.
"I'll be alright. Don't worry about me. Shyla's already getting everything planned and your mom has been thinking of moving in with me in a couple of months. Don't be mad, but she knew before you…and your dad did too. We saw him last week. He was so happy Warren."
I nodded.
"You're not angry right? About them knowing?"
"Course not," I answered, unable to tear my eyes away from her face. Things suddenly seemed to be moving so fast while I watched, like someone was fast-forwarding time. I wondered what it would feel like to see my children behind this window, missing their births and lives until they suddenly appeared in that window. My children.
"Don't cry Warren."
"I'm not," I answered irritably and suddenly wondered when the guard was coming back. I looked back at Lydia and forced a smile, "I'm happy Lydia, really happy."