'Hey Colin,' Tony said as he joined his colleague in the yard. 'How's it going?'

Colin regarded him with dull eyes. 'Same as usual, Tony. Did you think I found a hobby?'

Tony leaned against the wall, concerned. Colin appeared even less interested in his surroundings than a week ago. 'I came to say thanks, for your support. I'd never have cleared my name alone.'

The disgraced agent puffed on his cigarette, blue smoke billowing across the yard, fortunately in the opposite direction. 'We're supposed to back each up, right? Work as a team, etc. I'm not dead yet, Tony.'

The emphasis on the word "yet" disturbed Tony. 'Colin, you're fine,' he found himself saying, determined to cheer him up. 'How much longer are you stuck here?'

'Four months,' Colin muttered, disinterestedly.

'Hey, that's great, I'd sure swap places,' Tony sighed enviously. 'I could manage four months.'

Colin laughed mirthlessly. 'I'm not that sure. You haven't learned to bend with the breeze, you talk too much, you try to fix problems that are none of your concern, and you'd rather see yourself condemned than another. I'd estimate your life expectancy in prison at two months, possibly three.'

Tony rubbed his neck. 'Yeah, you're probably right. Sanchez keeps telling me I got a lot to learn.'

'He's wrong. You're aware of what's going on, your problem is you're too honest. You never lost a guy in combat, I remember that.'

Tony raised his head, moving his eyes from the concrete under him to his colleague's face. 'You remember that? It was a while ago.'

'I got nothing better to do except remember,' Colin admitted. 'You remember it too.'

Tony nodded. He had been new at CTU, struggling to cope with three separate tasks handed to him within half an hour by Jack, Nina and Colin. Someone had blocked off both entrances to a tunnel, threatening to blow the thing sky high, Jack had gone in with a SWAT team and managed to find an emergency entry inside and needed coordination, Nina insisted he track the terrorists' movements outside and he had been working on a list of their identities.

'Tony, where the hell's the background list?' Colin snapped, tapping his keyboard. 'I need to know who these guys are.'

'I transferred it to you a coupla minutes ago,' he replied, studying the infrared screen. 'Jack, there's a hostile at your five o'clock, concealed behind the blue sedan.'

'It's not here, Tony,' Colin told him. 'It's imperative Division gets this asap.'

Tony pulled a box open, nodding his head. 'Right there, Colin. Now let me…'

'Tony, that's the weekly report file. You were supposed to transfer this to my in-box.' Colin glared at him, copying the files and hurrying over to his workstation. Tony rubbed his face, ashamed. How in the world could he have forgotten that urgent protocols required intel transferred to a separate location? He had been told twice by Jack the previous day, and he had still failed.

'Tony, talk to me! How many more hostiles do you count? Where are you?'

'Right here, Jack,' he said, focusing on the situation. 'You got another three guys directly before you, with a hostage.'

Jack came over to his desk later that afternoon. 'You did good, Tony.'

Tony chewed his lip, swallowed and opened his mouth. 'Yeah, he's fine. Not bad at all for his first assignment.' Colin laid a hand on his shoulder.

'Thanks Colin, I owe you one,' Tony told him gratefully, pulling on his jacket.

'You owe me a dozen,' Colin joked, grinning at him. 'You can buy me a beer right now.' They sat together in the nearest bar, Tony's eyes on the table. 'Tony, I wasn't lying. You done an incredible job today. Hell, you never done this before. You worked your own station and Mark's.'

'I screwed up,' Tony muttered, his beer glass clutched in his hand.

'Only by sending the list to the wrong box. Come on, you collected all that data, Division was impressed. You think you're the only one who ever made the slightest mistake? Get real! Remember it and avoid it next time and get on with it! If you need a hand, Tony, just ask.'

It had been a difficult day when he had arrived at work and noticed his colleagues huddled in corners, discussing the names of three agents who had been exposed for accepting bribes. He had hated Jack for that, working on all routine cases as slowly as possible, giving lip whenever he was handed a new task. Jack was his friend now, but he wasn't duty bound to accept all his actions, and he still disagreed with the way the agents had been handled. He supposed it was the difference between them, he was always more lenient, willing to overlook, attempting to understand the circumstances that led to failure, reluctant to condemn.

'Tony, changed your mind about a smoke?' Colin inquired, regarding him with his inscrutable eyes. 'You had a real shit week.'

He shook his head. 'No thanks.' A guard approached them and he fell silent, aware they needed no reason to pull him up.

'Convict Houghton! You're real lucky Mr. Lee sent me to get you. What the hell do you think you're doing, out here? Move it.'

Colin handed his packet of cigarettes to Tony. 'Watch it for me, would ya?' He passed his lighter across and followed the guard along the wall and over to the gate, which was opened for them.

Tony frowned puzzled and wandered over to Perez. 'What's that about?'

'He's got another parole hearing,' Perez informed him. 'Didn't he tell you?'

Tony shook his head. 'No. What do you mean, another? How many has he had?'

Perez shrugged. 'I don't remember. Four at least. He always gets rejected, they say you're not sufficiently rehabilitated to be allowed out at present and they stamp "rejected" on your appeal.'

Tony's fists clenched . 'Why the hell would anyone reject his application? He was never a menace to society, he just slipped up once.'

'The good people on the parole board think differently. Now then, Tony, you look like shit. Would you like a little coffee?'

Tony's mouth fell open, all thought of parole boards forgotten. 'What?' he choked.

The Mexicans laughed aloud. 'You got him there, Señor. Looks like he does.'

'You guys don't have coffee,' he said, regretfully. His mouth watered and he swallowed, tasting coffee, smelling it, hearing it bubble in the coffee maker.

'Let's give you some,' Perez said, grinning. To Tony's astonishment he produced a flask, removed the cup from the top and handed it to him. 'Hold that.' Tony held it steady, his nostrils filled with the aroma of rich coffee. The moment his cup was full he raised it and sipped the scalding liquid, running a small amount over his tongue.

'Gracias, that was worth all the hassle I went through last week,' he told them truthfully. They laughed aloud, asking how many cups he had drunk daily. 'Around eight,' he admitted, longing to lick the remaining drops from the cup. 'My wife gave me a limit of two, I used to sneak around behind her back and get the rest. It was kinda funny.'

'So have another cup,' Perez told him, noticing the pain that filled his eyes whenever he mentioned Michelle. Tony had a second cup, feeling a little optimism return. He had after all managed to clear himself of narcotics charges, and Jack's words lingered in his brain. He might even get me out of here. And if he can't, well, you have after all already escaped custody once before. He remained with Perez, listening to his warning about the need to stay vigilant.

'Almeida, your colleague's back,' Lopez told him. 'He doesn't look good.'

Tony turned, watching Colin lean against the wall and shut his eyes. 'I'll go talk to him,' he said, and they nodded. The man's posture indicated defeat and Tony hurried across the yard, searching his brain for calming advice. 'Here, have a smoke,' he began, handing over the pack and the lighter, determined to dispel his dark mood. 'I take it things went bad. You weren't in there long.'

'I was first,' Colin muttered, his tone dull. 'Thank God you'll get spared this charade, Tony. It's totally pointless, just work for beaucrats, that's all, and you already know that, but you can't help hoping.'

'They're bastards,' Tony told him, rubbing his neck. 'It hardly matters though, Colin, you're out in four months anyway. I can use your company until then. Once you're out, I got no one to speak to, not really.'

'So you're in luck,' Colin muttered, emotionless. Tony frowned, knowing he had failed to cheer him up. He spent the remainder of yard time with him, discussing their military careers, forcing Colin to repeat his greatest successes.

'Almeida, keep an eye on him,' Perez warned him as they returned to the queue to head indoors. 'He's gonna end it all soon.'

'No he won't,' Tony argued. 'He's been trained to accept defeat. He's a Marine, he fought in the Gulf War, he won medals for courage, you don't know him.' He glared at the Mexican, terrified he was correct.

'I don't know that gringo, but I've seen thousands of men in prison, and he won't last the week,' Perez repeated.

'I'm getting real sick of hearing that word,' Tony snapped. 'He's name's Colin Haughton, ok?'

A guard interrupted their amateur psychology, yelling at them to move with the rest of the queue. Tony returned to his cell, his worry plain to read, stepping carefully over the untidy piles of cards Sanchez had laid out around the door. 'You really got to play right there?' he demanded, removing his shoes and climbing into his bunk. He gazed moodily at Michelle's picture, before he returned it under the sheets and withdrew her latest letter. It had arrived the day before and he had been thrilled, knowing she was coming to visit him that week. A visit and a letter, he was indeed lucky.

The letter unfortunately had been brief, explaining that her workload was so heavy that she was unable to take a couple of days off to make the trip to Nevada. She would have to miss her visit that month but she would certainly be there in four weeks. He should take care of himself and suppress any wise comments he undoubtedly had, and she loved him.

Tony rubbed his eyes, having memorized the letter the day he received it. So you can't make it, Michelle! You're real busy this month, well, what makes you so sure you'll have more time next month? You might be even busier. I was gonna thank you for arranging my lawyer's permission to conduct his investigation, and especially to thank you for finding the security tape tampering. Without you I'd be facing a year of solitary. Thanks sweetheart. He returned the letter to his pile and lay back, tracing the pattern of the cracks above him.

'Amigo,' Sanchez questioned, sensing his dark mood. 'What's wrong? Did you get burnt up outside?'

Tony shook his head. 'No. I'm a little worried about Colin,' he said softly, sitting up and hanging his legs over the edge. 'He got refused parole again and he's taking it bad. He's only got another four months left, I can't understand why he looks like he's got a death sentence.'

'Not because of those four months,' Sanchez answered, collecting his cards. 'I guess they said some pretty harsh things to him down there. Parole board always acts so self-righteous, they make you feel shit.'

Tony jumped the remaining two feet to the ground and picked up a few cards. 'They insult you?' he questioned.

'Not exactly. They just look you in the eye and explain that you're unfit to be returned amoung decent human beings. It's like a kick in the guts.'

Colin sure doesn't need that at the moment. He's real low on confidence right now without being pushed further. 'I wish I knew what to say to him,' he sighed. 'He's a good guy really.'

'And here's another "good guy"' Sanchez told him sarcastically. 'Watch it, Almeida, Lee's coming.'

Tony tossed his head, irritated. 'What's he doing here now? Another shakedown? Did he plant anything else on us?' he wandered aloud.

Supervisor Lee paused outside the neighboring cell, without sparing them a glance. Tony breathed a sigh of relief, replaced a moment later by a frown.'Convict Houghton, stand your gate! How dare you ignore me when I bring you something? You've just earned yourself a D-report. Now you left without signing this application. Do so and I'll add it to your C file.'

From the frown he read on Lee's face, Tony could see his colleague had failed to comply. 'Convict Houghton, I'm sure as hell not gonna repeat my instructions. You've got a week in A-Seg. This document requires your signature. It's hardly my fault the parole board agreed with my assessment of your character. We're not convinced you fully appreciate the gravity of your crimes. Accepting bribes from criminals and turning up to work at organizations such as CTU are incompatible.'

Oh shit, they're sending him to the strip cell. How am I supposed to keep an eye on him? Perez could be right, he's reached the limit of his endurance right now. He might just attempt suicide, and he'll manage it without any problem. He's been trained just as I was. Tony shook Sanchez's hand off his mouth irritated. 'Lemme go,' he hissed, leaning against his door. 'You're right, sir! It's an occupation best reserved for corrections officers.'

Supervisor Lee turned to regard him in astonishment. 'I'm writing you up for attitude, Convict Almeida,' he snapped, pulling out his notebook.

Tony nodded. 'Yeah. It's better than being charged with dealing, right?'

'I won't tolerate your giving lip,' Lee told him, outraged. 'Just what are you implying?'

Tony shrugged. 'I was always taught that the person without sins should cast the first stone. You real sure you're that guy, sir? You never took a bribe as you wandered through the block?'

'That's it!' Lee exclaimed, pulling out his handcuffs. He beckoned to the guards who patrolled the lower floor. 'Stick your hands through the slot,' he ordered, glaring at Tony. 'You've just earned yourself a week in A-Seg. You're a fool, Almeida, keep giving me lip and I'll keep sending you down as many times as it takes!'

Tony scowled and put his arms behind him, forcing them up through the slot. Cold steel circled his wrists and he remained immobile, waiting for the guards. Sanchez shook his head at him.

'Lugged again,' he sighed, watching Lee move to meet the four guards he had summoned. 'Don't look at me like that, Sanchez, I'm not crazy. I just wanna keep an eye on Colin, he's taking this real bad. I'm not gonna let him kill himself so close to his release.'

They were led along the floor in full view of all the cells, Tony behind Colin. Perez met his eyes as they were led past and he gave Tony a slight nod of understanding. The door banged behind them and they crossed a wind swept yard, unable to pull their arms round themselves for warmth. The block they approached threw a dark shadow across the yard. Tony failed to stop a cold shiver down his spine as a guard unlocked the gate and they were pushed inside a narrow courtyard, and halted before the inevitable steel door.

'I brought you two federal agents,' Supervisor Lee told his counterpart at administrative segregation.

The man laughed aloud, shaking his head. 'Come on Lee, quit fooling. How long am I to have the pleasure?'

'A week each. This one's Haughton, he likes to ignore orders and pretend to have a hearing impediment, whilst his colleague Almeida's got the opposite problem, won't keep his mouth shut! Almeida's to be placed on reduced rations.'

Tony had listened in mild amusement to the two guards' comments until that point. 'Why?' he demanded. 'You gotta have a reason for that!'

'I do,' Lee told him. I'm real SICK of you. I want you to keep an eye on the pair of them, Morris.'

His colleague nodded. 'You can count on it. They'll jump when you so much as look at them after this. Remove your clothes,' he snapped at them as they stood in the center of the room. 'You already know the drill perfectly well, Almeida!'

Lee straightened, paying close attention to the guards who examined them, disappointed to find nothing on either prisoner beyond Colin's cigarettes and lighter. 'I'm off.' His colleague followed him to the door and they spoke at length in the corridor while Tony and Colin were permitted to put on their underwear. They stood in silence, cuffs returned to their hands as they waited for the suprervisor to return. Tony glanced at Colin a few times, alarmed to notice his colleague no longer appeared aware of his surroundings.

Presently Supervisor Morris returned and glanced through his files, assigning them two cages. Tony watched their clothes carried over to the other side of the reception area to a large steel cabinet with numbers on the front resembling a locker at a swimming pool and bundled inside. He wandered why they remained in the room, remembering he had never been left inside long enough to watch his clothes put away. A horrible thought came to him which he pushed away firmly. There's no nightsticks in this prison, you haven't seen one here! He glanced at Colin who remained focused on the door, his eyes those of a condemned man who had made peace with his sentence.

Supervisor Morris cleared his throat. 'Alright, you two federal agents,' he began, 'listen real well. Once upon a time the pair of you took orders from your superiors and done a little work! Now I'm a firm believer in rehabilitation, salvaging whatever speck of decency remains inside you cons and working on that It's obvious you're unfit to hold any kind of position, but whilst you're here you WILL take orders! Think of me as your boss. I will not tolerate the slightest hint of rebellion! Is that absolutely clear?'

'Yes sir,' Tony replied, unwilling to annoy the man, despite his being, in his opinion, a complete jerk.

The supervisor gave him a hard look and turned to Colin. 'IS THAT CLEAR?' To Tony's dismay his colleague remained silent, eyes glazed over. Morris gave a snort and moved behind the counter, emerging with a nightstick.

'Don't do it sir, he's sick,' Tony exclaimed. 'Just give him a day, he'll be fine by tomorrow.'

The supervior turned to regard him with ice cold eyes. 'You got a medical degree, convict?'

Tony chewed his lip, his eyes on the nightstick in the guard's hands, noting how he tapped his palm with it. Bastard won't replace this without using it. He raised his eyes, reading only cruelty from the man.

'I asked you something, convict. I expect an answer!'

'Sir, I've done an intensive first aid course and used it to treat men injured during combat.'He hoped Morris would leave things and summon some guards to lock them up, but the man clearly felt the need to vaunt his authority and refused to consider his words.

'First aid! And what, in your expert opinion is the matter with that convict beyond plain obstinacy?'

You're a real bastard, you're not gonna back down, are you? 'He's shell shocked, sir.'

Morris's mouth twisted in scorn. 'Shell shocked!' he repeated. 'That's real good, Almeida! I mean, the war's not that far, is it, just round the other side of the globe? I suggest you quit diagnosing patients.' He raised the stick, the swish plainly audible as he brought it down on Colin's shoulders.

Tony noticed him jump, a wild look in his eyes.

'Ok, that's a lot better. Now Almeida, you can explain what I just told you to your colleague. I don't repeat myself!'

Tony drew a deep breath, struggling to contain his rage. 'I'll give you a brief summary! He says he's in charge here, like a boss,' he muttered. 'He won't tolerate rebellion.'

'That's about the gist of it, yes, Almeida,' Morris told him, his face darkening. 'And just so you remember it,' he raised his stick and brought it down with full force on Tony's left thigh.