I know it's been far too long since I updated I apologise. I was really busy with university stuff and then the holidays hit and inspiration left lol. I'm sorry, I hope I still have some readers lol. As always I appreciate everyone who reads and reviews. Hope you enjoy the chapter.


"This nickname of Kentucky can refer to its landscape or its music"

Jeopardy continued to blare in the background intermingling with the hustle and bustle of the common room.

"Hey fish!"

Hanson slumped downwards, his head barely raised above the back of the chair as he desperately tried to blend into the background.

"Fish!"

Hanson turned his chocolate coloured eyes unblinking as he stared into the flaming coals of Nail.

"Do you know the answer?" he smirked, his thin lips curled upwards mockingly.

Hanson shrugged before returning his attention to the TV.

"Come on pig you can be more polite than that!" scoffed Nail, his eyes glinting dangerously.

Hanson gazed at him, a sour look scarring his features. Pig, fish – what next? Horse?

"Why would I know the answer?" he snapped furiously, all pretence of humility erased from his tone.

"You needs to be smarts to be a cop do youse not?"

Hanson stared at him, his mind whirling as he tried to decipher the meaning of the words amongst the mess of grammatical inaccuracy and weird dialect.

"I tell you what fish me and you, we'll play a game" announced Nail softly when he received no reply from the former cop, "If you can answer all the questions on Jeopardy I'll leave you alone"

Hanson glanced at him from the corner of his eye. He hated quiz shows, despised them with a passion.

He remained mute; his brown eyes a vortex of desperation.

"If I win, then I get to play with you" smirked Nail, continuing as if Hanson had asked him a question.

Whoops and hollers of vicious excitement bristled through the room, the thrill of this outsider, this small helpless cop finally getting his just deserts elicited anticipation to the highest degree in the other prisoners.

"No" he muttered quietly flicking strands of hair from his bruised face.

Nail's eyes darkened and burned with stubbornness at Hanson's refusal.

"You ain't gonna play?"

"What you deaf and dumb?" spat Hanson his fury increasing at his own fear and intimidation.

An eerie hush spread through the prisoners like wildfire, silent admiration at Hanson's brashness and anticipation at his foolishness clouded the room.

"Boy you just signed your own death warrant"

"Don't recall signing shit" spat Hanson the bitter edge of fear wavering through his words.

He ran his tongue over his chafed lips once more, the bitter sweet sting of saliva reminding him that, at least for the moment, he was still a member of the living. Confined but alive at least.

He tried to push the dark thoughts from the back of his mind. No matter what happened death was not the more favorable option he reminded himself sternly.

The night bell shrieked in the silence. Nail kept his eyes locked on Hanson, the smaller man refused to drop his gaze. Hanson hardened his yielding chocolate coloured eyes into blazing black pools of fury and defiance.

With a clatter the common room door slammed against the unsteady wall, Collins stood flanked by several prison wardens his face a mask of annoyance.

"Bell's gone boys, you all gotta go to beddy byes" he mocked

"Bite me" hissed Nail

" You want some time in solitary Nail?" enquired Collins a smirk plastered to his greasy face.

"And deprive fish over there of all the quality time he and me's gonna be sharing? No thank you Mr. Collins," said Nail his eyes shimmering with enjoyment.

" Ah Hanson I see you're making more friends with each passing day"
Hanson remained mute, rubbed his fingers against his palm firmly in an effort to quash the frustration he could feel building. He couldn't afford to let it peak, lashing out wasn't the answer. Was it?

"Yeah me and Hanson's best buds aren't we Angel?"

"No"

The denial slipped before he could prevent it. The irony that this bully thought he could manipulate him, continue making him the butt of his jokes irritated him deeply. How dare he compare himself to Doug? How dare he attempt to horn shoe himself into the spot of best friend. Just because he was in prison didn't mean he was suddenly cast off from old friends. Did it?

Didn't Doug visit this morning?

Hanson felt the smile creep across his face at the thought, his heart swelled at the memory. So what if he hadn't actually got to see Doug, he'd been here and he would come back. It was enough for now.

He floundered, was roused from the happy thought as he felt the harsh nails of Collins cut into his slender shoulders. He winced at the brutal treatment of his already tender frame.

"Come on Hanson time for bed" his harsh tone caressed and crackled against his earlobe.

"Don't touch me" snapped Hanson acrimoniously, his heart thumping in his chest manically.

"Tell them that, not me sweetheart" whispered Collins maliciously, "There's beating your ass and then there's beating your ass and trust me sweet cakes my gate doesn't swing that way"

Hanson shuddered inwardly; the sexual undertone of the threat was not lost on him.

"Just let go" he pleaded finally, his voice dry and thin.

"First you and me need to have a little chat" said Collins softly as he steered the young inmate down the corridor into his office.

"Have a seat"

"I'll stand" replied Hanson quietly.

"Sit!" commanded Collins aiming a threatening finger in Hanson's face. He tried his best not to flinch out of reach.

"Boy either sit voluntarily or I'll knock you down where you stand" hissed Collins furiously when Hanson refused to move.

"You're not supposed to treat me like this" whispered Hanson his voice strained. Still he stood, his fatigued body oozed resistance as he stared searchingly into the face of the cell block captain. He understood now why he despised himself, he hated the way he was so weak in the presence of these bullies. He loathed the fear that stifled his heart every time they looked at him and detested the shiver of trepidation that shot through his spine every time somebody spoke directly to him.

"You're not supposed to break into someone's house and then shoot them dead in cold blood but you did that. You're not supposed to be a cop and then go drag racing. But hey you did that too. What is it Hanson one rule for you and another for the rest of the world?"

Hanson stared at him feeling his chest contract as he struggled for breath over the lump he felt building in his tightening throat. Was nothing his anymore? Not even his past?

"I didn't kill him" he croaked eventually

" Didn't drag race either? Didn't break into a fellow officer's apartment?"

Hanson stared, he parted his lips slowly before bringing them to a close.

" It's all in your file"

Hanson peered at him; cast his glance from the cell block captain to the filing cabinet.

"You don't like rules very much do you Hanson?"

"You're the one breaking them" whispered the smaller man, "Not me"

"How did I break the rules Hanson?"

Hanson stared at him his eyes dull and sparse, the vibrant glow snuffed to the darkness of despair and defeat.

" Come on Hanson!" barked Collins harshly, " You're so great at running that huge mouth of yours, how did I break the rules?"

"I wanna go back to my cell"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU WANT!" exploded Collins sending the items on his desk crashing to the floor. He yanked Hanson against the pine his chest heaving with fury. How dare this little fuck up constantly speak out of turn, question him and disobey his instructions. Even after the beating he'd dished out this morning.

The fact that the former cop couldn't be visibly cowed irked him beyond belief. The way those soft doe eyes refused to water and weep in his intimidating presence made his blood boil. He dug his fingers into the brittle and already tender flesh of the small man. Hanson's refusal to allow his spirit to shatter enticed Collins - the thought that he could toy with him; chip away at his worth for the next fifteen years practically had him salivating at the mouth. He ached to destroy him, to shred his soul, to sever the baby-faced youth before him.

He'd break him yet. Just like all the others.

Hanson balked at the rage filled face before him, the red pulsating flesh made his stomach churn. The manic look in the storm wrenched holes of hatred made his skin crawl.

And he thought it was the inmates he had to be scared of.