Title: Lock Down
Chapter: 12
Rating: NC17 for my pottymouth and some situations.
Beta: None because I just want to post it before I fiddle any more.
Disclaimer: I still don't own The OC, Ryan or Benjamin McKenzie.
Story: AU set in the first season. Due to showing loyalty to his brother Trey, Ryan finds himself sentenced to thirty six months in the harsh Herman G. Stark Youth Correctional Facility. It's all fiction.
Lock Down
Chapter 12
The kids on the roof had all but stripped the terracotta tiles and were now ripping up anything else they could get their hands on.
The men in suits had disappeared; no doubt to a war room somewhere to pace and nervously smoke out of the sight of the press as they hurriedly talked about who they'd blame for the mess they found themselves in.
Ryan sat on his bunk and stared at his hands, Alverez's blood turning to a tawny black where it caked around his ragged cuticles. His hands trembled as he stared and saw in his minds eye Pico lying on the floor, not moving.
He drew his knees up and rolled onto his side, wrapping his hands around his head to try and block out the sounds of footsteps and shouts that crashed and swooped through the prison like a soundtrack to chaos.
He felt tired.
The blind panic he'd felt when he'd hit Pico had suddenly given way to confusion at being dragged unceremoniously back to his cell by Ronk and Silvio. They didn't pause along the way and only spoke as they locked the door on him, telling him to 'keep his fucking head down and not say squat to anyone'.
Now all he felt was a strange torpidity. Disconnected from everything that was going on around him. He was lucid enough to be concerned that it wasn't normal. He supposed that maybe it was shock setting in or maybe just the after affects as his brain crashed down from its adrenaline rush of the past couple of hours. All he knew was his body hurt just about everywhere but he didn't care and he couldn't focus on anything other than the deep sense of fear that blocked everything out.
He was screwed. He'd killed a prison guard and in the laws eyes that was probably just one-step down from being a cop killer even if it had been self defence. Who'd listen to him?
He shut his eyes and wondered when it had all gone wrong.
His mom had always told him he was the good one; obviously she'd revised that proclamation if her absence from his visit log was anything to go by.
Now he'd killed a man and it was all over for him.
He'd never felt so alone.
Sandy watched as truck after truck pulled up, spilling manpower out of every door as people shouted orders.
He found himself seriously wanting to punch someone, to shout and shake someone in charge until he got answers. He hadn't experienced the feeling for a very long time but something was obviously happening and no one was telling him anything. He felt like a spare part, left on the fringes of something important like a child watching a grown up party and he was getting pretty pissed.
He just wanted news of Ryan. Needed to know he was okay because ambulances were turning up at an alarming rate and were lining up…waiting.
The static crackled over the airwaves as the order came.
Enter the building.
Use force if necessary.
Get control back by any means.
Dante charged along the corridor, pushing bodies out of his way as he went. Covering his eyes and mouth with his tee as the canisters of acrid gas bounced behind him, smoke billowing. Napoleon and his crew were further along scuffling with several cops in full riot gear.
He aimed a full force punch at the neck of a cop who had Silvio in a headlock.
His blood pumping hard as he felt a force crash into his back and was flattened against the floor. Next thing he felt was the cold snap of cuffs being clamped around his wrists as someone knelt on his back.
"Get your fucking hands off me," He spat as his eyes and nose streamed from the gas but to be honest he felt a sense of relief that it was all coming to the end.
Dante hoped that it had all been worth it.
They eventually found McCray's body stuffed in an air vent. His face had been slashed from ear to ear with a blade and there was a boot print across his neck.
One week later….
Sandy pulled a chair up to the bed and placed the bag of grapes he'd brought with him on the table next to him.
Ryan was sat on the edge of the bed wearing sweats and a baggy black vest that gaped loosely.
"Hey kid. Looking better..." He lied.
Ryan still wouldn't look him straight in the eye for longer than a couple of seconds before he'd become interested in something else in the room and that depressed him but Ryan did thank him for the fruit so that was an improvement.
As Ryan shuffled the bag of grapes behind a scratched, well worn plastic jug of water. Sandy's eyes were drawn to the smudges of green, blue and red ran down Ryan's arms and across his chest. The bruising on his face was less vivid than the last time he'd visited but the twin moons of purple still ringed his eyes and the livid yellow across his cheek still made him wince.
Ryan still hadn't talked about what happened the night of the lock down. No matter how much he probed. The kid could make a mute seem talkative when he wanted. When He'd brought up the deaths of the guards Ryan had all but shut down, showed no emotion at all but Sandy had learnt to read his eyes and they told a different story.
Something was troubling the kid big time.
All Sandy knew was Ryan had been one of fifteen or so inmates that hadn't been let out of their cells for one reason or another when the prison had erupted. He'd eventually been found badly beaten and semi-conscious on his bunk and had been taken to the local hospital along with some of the other prisoners who weren't considered a threat to the staff or a huge flight risk. They were still being watched but at least they had better care than the inmates who had ended up in the prison medical wing.
Ryan's injuries thankfully hadn't been severe, mainly bruising and contusions, a few broken ribs and a cracked collarbone but a nasty concussion and a lingering fever were keeping him from being discharged. For that, Sandy was thankful, as it had given him time to pull strings like he'd never pulled strings before. That was the main reason why he was sitting beside Ryan again but things were still worrying him even though he'd just got the best news he could have hoped for that morning.
The official story that Sandy had been spun was that as a new prisoner Ryan hadn't wanted to get involved in the riots, so had been singled out for violence as a consequence.
Whilst Sandy was relieved because although by officially spinning that particular tail Ryan was exonerated from any of the deaths and violence that had occurred during that night… it didn't ring true from what he knew of Ryan. Here was a kid who was inside because he'd blindly followed his brother and Sandy doubted that he'd just sit back and let everything go on around him.
A contact at the police dept had already talked of a total cover up regarding the illegal activities going on inside. And the guards that had died were being canonized as men who'd bravely lost their lives protecting the public by trying to stop violent offenders escaping but Sandy knew different. Waddell had told a very different story and Sandy was pissed that it was being suppressed. He'd always had faith in the system but it seemed that the system was as corrupt as it had always been.
And whole thing stunk to high heaven.
But Ryan wasn't talking and neither was anyone else so he couldn't prove anything. He just came across as a campaigning liberal rattling his sabre to make some noise against the establishment.
Sandy had tried to get Waddell to repeat his claims but the old guard had back-stepped and refused to bring things out in the open. The next thing Sandy knew was he'd shut up house and vanished. When Sandy spoke to Waddell's neighbours, they thought that he'd gone on vacation to Florida or maybe Vegas, they talked of a sudden windfall.
Windfall?
Sandy thought it sounded like a big fat dirty payoff to keep his mouth shut but proving who'd made it was impossible.
Sandy needed answers but the one person who could tell was staring at the floor whilst picking at his plastic hospital wristband.
Sandy took a deep breath and hoped what he had to say would make Ryan trust him more. Make Ryan realize that he kept his promises.
"Kid, I told you I was wasn't going to give up on you didn't I?"
Ryan looked up wearily and didn't say anything but Sandy could tell he'd got his attention.
"So, here's the deal. The prison board have reviewed your sentence. I made an appeal that your sentence did not reflect the crime and considering it was your first offence the state of California were amiss to hand down such a sentence and quoted the statistics of several cases that set a precedent. I may have also made a recommendation that…" Sandy couldn't help grinning. "…in light of what happened that it would be a shame if you were to put in for a large compensation claim against the state, that maybe it would be best to give your care over to a responsible adult in lieu of further time inside. You're not going back kid."
"What?" His brows knotted in confusion. Ryan looked like he didn't believe him, didn't trust himself to believe.
"Of course…you'll have to keep your nose clean for the next year and see a probation officer but I think it's a good result."
Sandy could see the wheels turning in Ryan's brain as he tried to process it all.
"So I'll go back to mom's?" For the first time in a week Ryan showed real animation. Ryan looked so hopeful that it broke Sandy's heart.
He slowly shook his head.
"Sorry…we…I tried to find her but it looks like she skipped town. The house was empty. No forwarding address."
From what he'd seen of the woman when Ryan had been arrested Sandy thought it was a good thing but her son obviously didn't and the look of pain that shot across Ryan's face made him want to say a few choice words to Dawn Atwood.
"Right…So that's it right…" The defeated look was back.
Sandy took a breath and said what he'd wanted to say since he'd brought it up with his family when he'd found out that Ryan needed someplace to stay.
"I've spoken to my wife and my son and we'd like you to come and live with us."
Ryan shut his eyes briefly then stared at Sandy.
The reaction was not what he'd hoped for.
"Thanks for the offer but I…I can't. It wouldn't work."
"Why? We've certainly got the room and Seth is already compiling a Cohen welcome pack." Sandy raised an eyebrow and wondered if Ryan really wanted a copy of 'Goonies'.
Ryan got up off the bed and walked to the window. Sandy had expected reserve from Ryan as he didn't seem to be the type to jump up and down with joy but the silent staring out of the window wasn't part of the plan.
"No, Mr Cohen."
"Why…give me one good reason why this wouldn't work?" Sandy put a hand on his shoulder but Ryan shrugged it off and moved away.
"You shouldn't want me around your family…I did something…I didn't mean to hurt anyone but…." His voice quiet and again he seemed to deflate but there was also a pleading look behind his eyes that begged Sandy to understand. "You're a decent man and your family seem really, really nice and I appreciate you trying to help me but…if you knew about me, trust me, you wouldn't be trying to help me…"
Sandy sat back down. He felt bad for using the moment but for the first time it seemed like Ryan was weakening. His silent resolve seemed to be crumbling in front of his eyes.
"Ryan, I'm not leaving until you tell me what happened to you and let me tell you I'm as stubborn as you are…so you'd better start talking. Who did you hurt?"
Sandy folded his arms and waited, his heart in his mouth wondering if he really wanted to hear what Ryan might say but trusting his instincts about the boy in front of him.
They hit a stalemate that lasted for a full ten minutes before Ryan started talking. His voice low and husky.
It all came out.
He told Sandy about McCray and Pico locking him in solitary for days on end, keeping him in the dark, the beatings and turning the ice-cold hose on him.
Ryan told Sandy the real reason he'd refused to see him. His voice shook when he told about McCray threatening to have his brother killed.
Sandy's mouth went dry when Ryan's flat monolog detailed the brutality of the shower block with everyone betting and baying for blood as he and another inmate punched each other senseless.
Ryan faltered when he got to McCray giving Pico a gun. His voice became an almost whisper.
The gunshot.
Wrestling with Pico.
Then hitting Pico's head against the tiles again and again until he dropped the gun.
Sandy shut his eyes and could picture the whole thing. He couldn't imagine being in the same situation.
But still Ryan talked.
He told of the panic he'd felt as he tried to stop Alverez from bleeding to death.
Finally he went silent after saying he'd been bundled back into his cell and told not to say anything.
Ryan finally looked up at him as if he was trying to gauge what the reaction to his tale would be.
Sandy slowly got up and walked towards Ryan. Here was a kid the same age as his own son but the difference couldn't have been more marked. He'd always protected Seth from harm but it seemed that no one had protected this kid and now Ryan was torturing himself over something that any man would have done put in the same situation. He knew one hundred percent now that his instincts had been correct. Here was a kid who could have stayed silent, could have lied and nobody would have been able to prove a damn thing but instead Ryan had chosen to speak the truth and give up any hope of a life that most cons would have only fantasized about.
He felt even worse when Ryan flinched as he pulled him into a hug. Jesus. The kid had been living in hell for weeks.
"It's okay. It's okay."
Ryan pushed him away.
"How can this be okay? How can this be okay…I killed a fucking guard!" His voice was ragged with emotion.
Sandy ran his fingers through his hair. Something was nagging him. Something had itched at his brain when Ryan told him about Pico.
"You stay here. I'll be back. Ryan…this is not your fault. You did what you had to do remember that, you had no choice…I'll be back…soon."
Seth and Kirsten sat at the kitchen counter eating brownies straight out of the baking tin.
"Do you think we should get him a TV for his room?" Kirsten mused. "Maybe he won't like the pool house. He could have the spare room."
"Mom, the guys been inside…he'll love the pool house. His own bathroom…his own shower…no Buba asking to share his soap."
"Seth!" His mom's mouth hung open. "That doesn't really happen… does it?"
Seth grinned at his mom. He hadn't seen her this interested in something other than work for a long time.
Sandy rang from his office He paced as he waited for the phone to be picked up the other end.
"Lieutenant Sumner." The gruff greeting changed when he heard who was calling. "Sandy…you owe me a shrimp taco."
"Mike, I'll owe you two, plus a beer. I need another favour. I need to check something on the deaths at Starke."
"Okaaay, Sandman, fire away."
Sandy detailed what he needed to know.
"Give me five and I'll get back to you. And my rates have just gone up…a bottle of the good stuff." Sumner chuckled.
"Hell, you can have a whole case if you get me the info I need." Sandy promised.
He drummed his fingers on his table as he stared at his phone. He almost jumped when the thing chirped into life less than ten minutes later.
He grabbed the handset and listened.
"Are you sure about that?" He asked.
"Yeah, it says right here. Men don't usually suck a pan full of john water into their lungs if they are already dead. It's here in black and white…cause of death 'drowning'. Coroner thinks his head was held in the can due to the fact that he had urine, faecal matter and disinfectant water in his airways. Damn, I can think of better ways to go." Sumner made a gagging noise. "I take it that's what you wanted to hear?"
"That is the understatement of the centaury. Mike, not only do I owe you a case of the finest whiskey known to man but you can even sleep with my wife!" Sandy laughed.
"Do you want to tell her that or shall I?" Sumner grinned.
Ryan looked up at the house as Sandy got his briefcase out of the car.
He couldn't help but widen his eyes. The place was a freaking palace. The guard on the gate should have warned him but this was just mind-blowing. Sandy had even told him that he'd have his own space…with a kitchen and everything. Incredible! He still had to pinch himself that this was really happening.
The entrance hall was stunning, the sweep of the staircase, the marble. Shit, you could have fitted the whole of his old house into the space.
Sandy rushed off calling for his wife.
Ryan walked slowly towards the sound of a TV.
A geeky looking kid with a mass of curly hair wearing a tight tee, jeans and sneakers was engrossed with the Playstation. The kid looked up as he entered.
"Hey!" The smile was genuine, he held out a controller. "Wanna play?"
Ryan instantly felt himself relax.
He sat down.
"What are we playing?"
Dante was prodded by a guard and told he had a phone call.
He'd spent a week in solitary for his part in the riot. Thankfully the wall of silence had held and McCray and Pico's deaths were quickly swept under the proverbial carpet. Oh people knew what had happened but knowing and proving were two different things but Napoleon had got payback for Alverez that was for sure.
And McCray?
McCray had been all his.
Dante picked up the handset and barked at whoever had disturbed his smoke break.
"Thanks."
It was just one word but it felt good to hear it. Where he came from people didn't thank one another.
"No problem...just don't fuck up again or you'll have me to deal with."
He put the phone down and smiled. Maybe there was something in doing things for other people.
Then again, maybe not.
Dante pushed past a guy as he walked over to where Ronk, Silvio and co sat playing cards.
The End