Chapter Five – Just Fine

Riley looked up at Maggie then nodded at the door as he said to Tomkins. "Disappear." Tomkins nodded curtly and slipped past Maggie then hurried down the hallway. When he heard the door at the end of the hall thump closed, Riley nudged the unconscious man sprawled on the floor of the dingy cell with the toe of his boot. "I don't think this one's going to be much use to you, Mom. He's too full of attitude. He was mouthing off to me the whole time… well, at least until he passed out."

Maggie stepped close and leaned down to look Spike over. "You did a lot of damage, Riley. This is going to take a while to heal. Maybe when he's better, he'll see things differently."

Riley shrugged. "Yeah, maybe, but I'm doubting it." He nudged Spike again. "So, what do we do with him in the meantime? That new nurse was here earlier and wanted to examine the inmates down here. Should I call her down to take care of this one?"

Maggie shook her head. "No. Take him up to the infirmary. She can work on him up there."

"Is she going to be a problem?"

Maggie thought about that for a minute. "I don't know, actually." She looked down at Spike. "This might be a way to find out. We'll see how she handles this and decide from there if she'll be able to handle more. If not, we'll just keep her away from the business. She'll be busy enough with the rest of the prison, and if we need to, we can find someone else to tend to the workers."

"All right. I better get him up there so I can get back down here and get the rest of them moved in." He bent down and grabbed Spike's arm then roughly pulled him up and slung the unconscious man over his shoulder. "God, he stinks. Do the rest of them smell this bad? You're not gonna make any money off them if they do."

Maggie followed him down the hallway, shaking her head. "No. They've all been cooperative, so they're allowed showers and entertainment and such. I've only kept them down here so they can't talk to the other inmates. If that idiot construction crew had completed the job when they were supposed to, they would've only been down here two weeks."

"What about the construction crew? Aren't you worried they'll talk?"

"No. They've been paid handsomely for their silence, and if it's ever broken… it will be dealt with."

Riley stopped and pressed close to the wall at the bottom of the stairs to let Maggie slip past him to get the door. She smacked Spike's head as she scooted past Riley in the narrow hallway. "This one has been giving me grief since I selected him for the program."

Riley trudged up the stairs, shifting the body on his shoulders into a more comfortable position… for him, anyway. He smiled at Spike's low moan of pain as he bounced harshly. "What are you going to do if he won't work?"

Maggie stepped out into the brightly lit hallway and waited for Riley to step through then pulled the door closed. "He'll work one way or another. I was hoping he'd come around; he'd make us so much more money if he was willing. With his looks, I could charge a lot more for him than the others and he'd have a lot more clients, but I do have clients on the list who don't require a worker's cooperation, and some actually prefer them to be unwilling. He could service them, I suppose, and then when his time is up… his time is up."

Riley chuckled. "And how does that work?"

"He'll be released and driven to one of the towns with a bus ticket and two hundred dollars in his pocket. Sadly though, he'll be accosted not far from the bus station, his money stolen, and tragically, he'll be shot and killed. Of course, no one will have witnessed the attack, so the perpetrator – that would be you – will never be brought to justice."

Riley laughed as he rounded the corner of the hallway leading to the medical wing. "I love how your mind works, Mom. I'm guessing the rest of them will end up the same way when their sentences are finished?"

Maggie smiled coldly. "Well, not exactly the same way. Different towns, different tragic endings. As long as they don't die here, nobody will be the wiser, and I won't be saddled with a pile of paperwork or have any government officials poking their noses into my business."

"There isn't a way we could just keep them? I mean, process them out and file all the paperwork, but never actually take them anywhere?"

Maggie nodded thoughtfully. "We could keep the ones who won't be on parole after release, but if they're supposed to report to a parole officer, then they'll have to die."

"Will this one be on parole?"

Maggie's cold smile was back. "No, so once he's moved downstairs, we'll be able to make money off him for years."

Riley stopped in front of the door to the infirmary, shifting Spike again as he waited for Maggie to open the door. He stepped through and frowned when he saw that the office was empty. He pulled his prison phone from his pocket, flipped it open, and punched a number. "Patch me through to the Nurse."

"Hi. One of the inmates was leaving his cell and uh… fell down the stairs. He's unconscious and it looks like a few of his ribs might be broken. We're bringing him up to the infirmary now. Where do you want him?" He smirked as he flipped the phone closed and dropped it back into his pocket. He walked through the office and into the first patient room on the right, dumping Spike unceremoniously onto the bed. "Should I wait?"

Maggie nodded, pleased that Buffy had chosen this room – no camera meant fewer witnesses. Even though most of the guards were fully aware of what was going on underground – they'd been handpicked for their discretion and willingness to not be constrained by something as asinine as a moral code – there were still a few of the old group that weren't privy to the new business venture – and she wanted to keep it that way. "Yes, I'll go. Don't give her too many details about how he received these injuries. We'll see if she can figure it out. As bright as she is, I imagine she won't have any problem with that and then we'll see where she stands. If she's going to be a problem… well… she'll have her own tragic ending, I suppose." Maggie sighed tiredly. "And then I'll have to hire someone else." She brightened slightly. "But I think our luck has changed for the better, so let's just keep our fingers crossed that she'll be on board."

Riley dropped into the chair next to the bed as Maggie started for the door. "Yes, ma'am." He reached out and poked repeatedly at one of the dark bruises forming on Spike's torso, smiling when Spike winced even in his unconscious state. "Yeah, this was fun, Willy. Have to do it again real soon. Maybe I can talk Mom into letting me have you when you're not working. My birthday's coming up and some fun with you would make the perfect present." He leaned his head back on the chair and closed his eyes, a sadistic grin lighting up his face. "Perfect."

XXXX

Xander bolted to his feet, shooting Willow an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I have to go…"

Willow nodded. "Go, Xan. Bring her back for dinner if you can and we'll talk then."

Xander nodded as he stepped through the door, pulling it closed behind him, "Love you, Wils."

Her call of "Love you too, baby," was muffled by the door as he bounded down the steps, catching up to Buffy who was moving quickly toward the outside entrance of the medical wing. "Buffy, slow down a sec."

She looked over at him but didn't slow her pace. "No."

He had to scramble to keep up, even though his legs were longer. "Buffy, something's fishy about the whole stairs thing."

She slowed down a fraction, her brow knitting. "What's fishy?"

"Well, the inmates aren't allowed in their cells during the day. Once they leave for breakfast, they don't have access to their cells until after dinner, so there's no way one of them would've fallen down the stairs. They're not even allowed to go up there."

That slowed her down. "So you think…"

He nodded. "Yeah. It's probably one of the guys from solitary and I have a pretty good idea which one."

Her pace picked up again. "Right. So how should I play this? Should I let on that I know what really happened? Or should I pretend to accept the stairs story?"

Xander shrugged. "I have no idea, but we need to find out what the hell is going on down there before we can really do anything about it, so maybe…"

Buffy nodded. "I should try to make them believe that I'm cool with pummeling the inmates or whatever they did to him. Maybe I can gain their trust and get them to let me down there or something."

Xander nodded. "Yeah… that might work, but then what? Even if we find out what's going on, and it's bad, who do we tell? Walsh is out… completely… and we're not under state control anymore so I don't even know who to talk to. I doubt any of the cops anywhere around here are going to want to tangle with Walsh, so that leaves us pretty high and dry."

Buffy grinned. "Oh, don't worry about that, Xander, I know just who to tell. I already told you that Walsh doesn't know who she's dealing with, and if you think I'm scary, just wait until you get a load of my sister."

Xander peeled away and headed for the main entrance as Buffy took the last few steps to the medical wing door. She slid her card then pulled the door open and a whoosh of cool air enveloped her that smelled faintly of disinfectant. She hurried through the small antechamber that sat outside her office, calling out as soon as she stepped through her office door, "I'm here."

A deep voice answered, "So am I."

She skirted her desk and hurried toward the patient rooms, colliding with a man-shaped wall of muscle as she stepped into the hallway. "Ooof!"

He reached out; grasping her upper arms as she bounced off, then held her tightly until she was steady. "Sorry about that, ma'am. You move fast for such a tiny little thing."

She backed up a step and looked up. Way up. "Oh… sorry." He dropped his hands and she backed up another step. "Um… thank you."

"No problem." He looked her over from head to toe and back again. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, really not liking the way he was looking at her like he was a Weight Watcher's meeting and she was the fully loaded pizza with a side order of spicy hot wings that had been delivered there by mistake. It was giving her a major wiggins and she suppressed a shiver as she dropped her eyes from his hungry gaze and noticed his bloody and bruised knuckles. She stepped closer. "Are you all right? You have blood on your hand."

He lifted his hand, looking at it as if he'd never seen one before. "Oh… yeah. I'm fine."

She looked up at him again. "So, I'm guessing you're not the patient."

He chuckled and she suppressed another shiver. "No. He's in there." He turned and walked back into the room and over to the chair. He dropped down and watched her walk over to the bed, frowning when it blocked his view of most of her small, yet enticing body.

Buffy, on the other hand, was glad the bed was so large because she could feel his eyes crawling all over her like ants on a cupcake. She wasn't quite able to suppress the shiver this time as she turned her gaze from the man in the chair to the bloody mess sprawled on the bed. 'Christ on a cracker. What the hell happened to him?' She looked the man over quickly, tallying up the numerous injuries as her eyes moved from his head down to the waistband of his ratty pants. She took a deep breath and almost gagged on the stench rising from the bed. 'God, he stinks.' She couldn't see his legs, but if his arms, torso, and face were anything to go by… 'Yeah, he fell down the stairs… and I'm the freaking Queen of England. Bow to me, peons.'

She glanced at the man lounging in the chair and tried to keep her expression neutral, although what she really wanted to do was kick him in the head. A lot. While wearing steel-toed boots. She walked to the supply cabinet in the corner and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. "What's your name?"

"Riley Finn. You?"

"Buffy Summers. What's his name?"

"William Pratt."

She nodded as she slid her fingers into William's hair, feeling around his skull for damage. He had a couple of large goose eggs on the back of his head and one of them was still leaking a little blood. She pulled out her penlight and lifted each eyelid, shining the light into his eyes. "Pupils are equal and reactive."

"What does that mean?"

"That he most likely doesn't have a brain injury. Won't know for sure until he wakes up, though."

She looked back down at William. 'He's got blood on his lips. They're split, obviously, but it could also mean a punctured lung.' She pulled out her stethoscope and settled it into her ears then pressed it gently to his chest. She listened in several places, grimacing at the heavy bruising covering almost every inch of his way too thin frame. His ribs were prominent and the hip bones peeking out of the waistband of his pants were sharp, making the concavity of his lower torso more noticeable. 'He looks like he hasn't eaten in a while or hasn't been getting enough to eat for a long time.'

She lifted the stethoscope away from William after listening to his lungs and heart, then pulled it from her ears and draped it around her neck. She felt lightly down his ribcage, pressing in slightly at the points of the heaviest bruising. He had several cracked ribs on both sides, but they didn't seem to be completely broken. "He doesn't appear to be in any immediate danger, so I'll do a full examination and some x-rays and get him cleaned up. You can go, if you want. I've got it from here."

She busied herself getting her patient straightened out and into a somewhat more comfortable position, feeling along his limbs for breaks as she did. She looked closely at his hands as she settled them on the bed, noticing that except for being streaked with blood and grime, they were fine – no scrapes, broken nails, or bruising. 'So he didn't fight back. At all.' Riley didn't move from the chair until she'd settled William's leg and straightened up. He pulled a set of hand cuffs from a pouch on the back of his belt and lifted the bed railing on his side, locking it into place. He clipped one ring of the cuffs around the bed railing then reached for William's wrist. Buffy reached across the bed and clamped her hand down on Riley's. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Cuffing him to the bed. If he's not being guarded, he has to be restrained. Prison rules. He could hurt you."

Buffy snorted. "Seriously? Look at him. Do you honestly think he's in any condition to do anything? For one thing, he's unconscious and probably will be for a while. For another, even if he does wake up, he'll be in too much pain to even get out of bed, much less come after me. And for a third, I could wipe the floor with him if he did try."

Riley pulled his hand back with a derisive chuckle, "You? Wipe the floor with him? Right. I'll just stay, make sure you're safe."

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and glared. "I could wipe the floor with you, too, Riley. I don't need protecting; I need to do my job, so if you're staying, you're helping." She stalked to the cabinet and grabbed a pair of gloves then tossed them at Riley. "Put those on. We need to get him cleaned up so I can see the extent of the damage. I'll start at the top and work my way down. You start at his feet."

Riley's look of horror almost made her giggle, but she clamped down on it as he sputtered, "No! I'm not cleaning him! That's not my job."

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and nodded toward the door. "Okay. Bye."

He dropped the gloves on the floor beside the chair and sat down forcefully. "I'm not leaving, either."

Buffy grumbled and turned back to the cabinet, grabbing the supplies she'd need to clean up her patient. She dropped them on the table next to the bed and fetched a tub of warm water from the bathroom, setting it next to a pile of soft cloths. She dipped a cloth into the water and wrung it out then started gently wiping the blood from William's face. "So… what really happened to him?"

"Fell down the stairs."

Buffy looked up at him, eyes flashing. "Just because I'm blonde doesn't mean I'm stupid, Riley, and I can put two and two together. I know you did this to him. His blood is all over your knuckles. What I want to know is why. What did he do?"

Riley considered the small woman as she resumed her task. Dip, wring, wipe. Dip, wring, wipe. 'This is it. This is where we find out where she stands.'

Buffy was trying not to look at Riley… and trying not to appear as nervous as she felt. 'This is it. This is where I either earn his trust and find out what the hell is going on around here… or not.' She focused on William's face as she swiped the cloth gently over his cheek. 'God, you're a mess, William. Nobody deserves this… inmate or not.'

Riley cleared his throat and she looked up. "He refused to follow instructions. Got mouthy. I had to let him know his place." He reached over and poked William harshly in the darkest bruise on his torso then smiled when he winced. "He just wouldn't shut up, so it took a while."

Buffy managed to keep her face from screwing into a look of horrified anger only by sheer force of will as she dropped her gaze back to her patient. She nodded slightly and hoped her sudden and overwhelming rage wouldn't bleed through into her voice as she said, "Oh. Makes sense."

Riley looked at her curiously. "It does?"

She nodded again, not daring to look up at Riley, because if she saw that satisfied smile plastered on his face, she knew she was going to absolutely lose her shit and he'd end up in the room across the hall in far worse shape than William. 'And my chance to stop whatever's happening down in those cells will be gone… along with my job.' She turned to the tub of water and took her time rinsing out the cloth while she considered what to say next. She slowly swirled the cloth around in the dirty, bloody water, then wrung it out and turned back to the bed, keeping her eyes on her patient. 'I hope you're as out of it as you look, William, so you don't hear what I'm about to say.'

She spoke softly, the words flowing from her lips causing bile to rise in her throat. "Yeah, it does. I know I'm new to the whole prison thing, but I understand that you have to keep them in line. I mean, there's more of them than there are of us, so if one gets away with disrespect, then it gives the rest of them ideas." She swallowed the bile down, her stomach churning as she shrugged and swiped the cloth along William's neck, wincing inwardly at the finger-shaped bruises she uncovered. "Sometimes you have to make an example of one to ensure control of all."

Riley beamed a smile over at her when she glanced up at him. "That's exactly it!"

She dropped her eyes back to William, her inner Buffy doing a little happy dance. 'You're an idiot, Riley Finn. I can't believe you bought that, but it looks like it worked.' She dropped the cloth into the tub then turned and exited the room, coming back a few minutes later with the medical chart for William Pratt. 'Time to seal the deal.'

She flipped through a few pages to a blank page then set the chart on the small rolling tray table at the foot of the bed and started writing. She also spoke the words aloud, feeding Riley her entire line of bullshit and giggling to herself like a maniac as he ate up every word. "Patient reported to have fallen down a flight of stairs. Upon initial examination, he presented with several cracked ribs and a few contusions. Slight head trauma noted, although neurological signs are positive. X-rays will be performed to confirm diagnoses of rib fracture."

She clicked her pen and slapped the chart shut. "All right, I think I'll get the x-rays done so I can see how bad his ribs are before I clean him up anymore. If they're not too bad, it would be easier to give him a regular bath than keep up with the sponge bath. Maggie said something about some of the guards assisting if needed. Do you know which ones? I could use some help getting him imaged."

Riley shook his head. "I'm new here myself… haven't met very many of the guards." He pulled out his phone. "Let me call Mom and I'll get someone down here to help you."

She nodded as she picked up the tub of dirty water and headed into the bathroom. "Thanks, Riley." She poured the water down the sink as she heard Riley step into her office then she dropped the tub onto the floor and leaned back against the wall, scrubbing her hands over her face. 'God, if I ever get the chance… I'll show that sadistic shit how it feels to be made an example of.'

XXXX

"Hi, Mom, Buffy needs someone to help her with x-rays. Can you send down whoever does that?"

"Yeah, she figured it out right away, but she wrote down the stairs excuse in his chart, even though she knows I'm what happened. I think she'll work out just fine."