Shuffling reached his ears as the steel door was unlocked and he was pushed through, followed by Colin. A row of cages met his eyes along the right of the corridor, the left a whitewashed wall. Three of them contained prisoners from other blocks who all stared as they were led past, two giving him hard looks. The cages at the end were empty and a guard ran his access card through the slot. It swung open with a familiar buzz and the first guard stepped inside, glancing round to make certain it was empty. 'Alright, get inside.' His remark appeared to be addressed to Colin, who moved forward wordless, his shoulders slumped. Once inside the door was slammed on him and he turned, pushing his hands through the slot.

'You gonna answer me next time I ask you something, Haughton?'

'Yes sir,' Colin muttered, while Tony clenched his fists.

'I hope so. I want to hear an apology first.'

Tony's mouth fell open, he closed it again rapidly. The guards failed to react, obviously being accustomed to hearing this. Dammit! Why won't they quit humiliating him? What possible use is it? It appeared Colin was lucid again. He mumbled an apology, head hanging. Morris appeared satisfied, turning to the neighboring cage. He ran his card through and Tony moved inside, relieved to see the steel door slam behind him. Moving as slowly as he dared he pushed his hands through the slot, feeling the cuffs removed. He pulled them close to him, standing in the middle of the cell, aware Morris was bound to make a few extra threats.

'Alright, it appears you're where you belong - in a cage,' Morris began. 'Let me run through the rules in case you've forgotten them! You're forbidden to move closer than one foot to the bars. You're especially forbidden to push any part of your body through them. You're forbidden to speak. Is that clear?'

'Yes sir,' they echoed, Tony longing to see the back of him.

'Ok, I'll leave you to it. I will not hesitate to punish either of you should I hear of any infractions.' He turned and strode away while Tony tilted his head to the side, shaking it.

'Sonofabitch,' he muttered under his breath, rubbing his thigh. His fingers felt the large welt across his skin and he hissed in pain. 'You ok, Colin?' he questioned, turning to peer through the bars.

Colin nodded, placing a finger to his lips. He moved over to examine his mattress, his back to Tony, revealing an angry red stripe on his shoulders. Tony swallowed his next sentence, hearing approaching footsteps. The guard walked past, running his eyes over them. He turned his back and took the short step over to his own mattress, unsurprised at its filth. He had a week of sleeping on the cold tiles ahead of him as did Colin, by the looks of his mattress.

Tony settled on the floor, wishing he had a glass of water he could bathe his thigh with. Seems like I meet the dregs of society here, sweetheart. Just last week they attempted to pin a narcotics charge on me, and they never even apologized. Seems they get away with murder…He moved restlessly, wishing he could delete that final thought. Gonzales had told him tales that made his hair stand on end, though he wasn't certain they were authentic.

Colin settled on the floor, head in his hands, trembling slightly. 'Hey, Colin, are you ok?' Tony whispered again. 'Look at me.' Colin remained in his position and Tony got up and shoved his mattress aside, reaching through the bars to lay a hand on his shoulder. 'Colin, talk to me.'

Colin looked up, despair evident in his face. 'They'll catch us, Tony. There's no talking, remember?'

'Yeah, but there's no one here now,' Tony whispered back. 'Why won't you tell me what's wrong?'

'I'm ineligible to be returned to society,' Colin muttered bitterly. 'They don't need me back. They'd be worse off if I returned.'

'Who would?' Tony asked, struggling to hear his friend's quiet whispers.

Colin rubbed his face. 'Everybody out there! The whole country. Everyone's happier if I stay here!'

Tony swore aloud. 'They couldn't have convinced you of that, Colin! Who told you so?' He had a feeling he knew already, and Colin confirmed his suspicions. 'Bloody parole board. Perez said they haven't a clue what they're talking about. Listen, they sure don't represent the entire country.'

His colleague refused to acknowledge him. 'Dammit, Colin, pull yourself together,' Tony hissed. 'How many people were there on that bus?' Receiving no answer he took a deep breath. 'There were fifteen, weren't there? You think the parole board represents their opinions? You know, I'm sure those fifteen haven't forgotten about you. You saved their lives! There were a coupla kids, weren't there?'

He was rewarded by the sight of Colin rubbing his eyes. 'Yeah, there were. They'd be adults by now. So what?'

'So what?' Tony echoed, shocked. 'Come on, Colin, you gave them a chance to grow up. Those people who convicted you never saved anything. They haven't got a clue what's going on everyday. Neither does the parole board. They live in happy oblivion to the world's problems, worrying about what shoes to wear, or which tie to put on!' He fell silent, drawing away from the bars as a guard walked along the corridor, rubbing his face. Despite his best efforts he had been unable to shake the depression from his friend. 'Colin…'

'Look, Tony, you're being real decent, don't think I'm unaware of what you're doing,' Colin assured him. 'You got yourself another rules violation report coming here with me.'

Tony shrugged; relieved to see he was able to communicate. 'Plenty of space in the C file,' he said wryly.

Colin appeared to pull himself together. 'Tony, you got beaten! I'm real sorry.'

'Hey, it's ok,' Tony assured him. 'It was only one stroke, I can barely feel it.' It stings like hell, Colin, but I'm doing my best to ignore it. Main thing is, you're back.

'How long are we here for?' Colin asked, gazing round the cell for the first time since their arrival.

'A week,' Tony replied, folding his arms and hunching over to keep warm. 'It'll pass. Then you just got a coupla months and you're free!'

'Free to go where? My wife abandoned me, Tony. Can't say I blame her. You want the truth? I don't care if they keep me in for three more years! I got nowhere to go.'

Tony bowed his head, remembering the self confident agent he had known at CTU. 'Go stay with your mom for a bit,' he advised. 'She'll be glad to see you. At least you got that option.' He fell silent, picturing his parents' house the way he had last seen it, cars parked on the driveway and a few weeds on the lawn. Eyes closed, he was able to picture himself walking up the path, bending his head to avoid getting scratched by the overhanging bougainvillea and knocking on the door. He had pictured it so many times he knew the next scene by heart, the door opened and his mother stood in front of him, reaching out to clasp him in her arms. He brushed a hand across his face, longing to see the place again.

'Tony?' He felt a hand on his shoulder and blinked rapidly, turning to face Colin. 'I'm real sorry. I should think of something to say to you, not the other way round. How the hell can you bear this?'

Tony leaned against the bars and pondered the question. I'm not really coping too well. Inside I feel like howling and banging my head against the wall, I just don't show anyone. I can barely resist begging my visitors to take me home with them, but somehow I manage not to, and I smile and say goodbye…Dammit Colin, I'm supposed to be helping you!

'Just forget everything except the present,' he mumbled, falling silent as a guard wandered past.

The man stopped in front of his cell. 'I'm keeping my eye on you two! I catch either of you talking, you'll regret it!' They remained silent, Colin staring at the ground, while Tony met his eyes, defiant. He held his gaze for a full minute, Tony refusing to lower his eyes before he moved away.

'What the hell are you doing, Tony?' questioned Colin. 'You're a little too old to be playing chicken! You see, that's what I meant out in the yard, you don't bend.' He looked agitated and Tony congratulated himself for pulling his friend back towards the land of the living.

'Sure I do,' he protested. 'Do you know how many insults I sat through? I lost track!'

'So sit through all of them,' Colin advised. 'Shit its cold in here. Was it this cold when you were here before?'

Tony shook his head. 'No. They got a new supervisor here too; I'm guessing he's from Alaska!'

Colin's eyes lit up in amusement and he turned his face towards the back of his cell as the guard walked past.

An hour later the guard still had not managed to catch them talking, though he paused often enough to glare threateningly at Tony. Colin moved restlessly, twisting his fingers together and Tony studied him intently, guessing what his problem was.

'Dammit Tony, I really need a smoke,' Colin admitted. 'I just got to.'

'And I need a coffee!' Tony muttered with feeling. 'Forget it; we won't get a thing this week.' He leaned against the corner of the strip cell, cold and hungry.

'I can't forget it,' Colin insisted, growing agitated. 'I need to smoke! You can't just ignore that; you might as well order yourself to quit breathing! I got to smoke! I got a cigarette.'

Tony turned in astonishment, watching his colleague pull out a bent cigarette from his pants. Colin put a little in his mouth and chewed it. 'Hey, what are you doing?' Tony protested. 'You can't eat that, it'll make you sick.'

'I know that.' Colin sounded worse. 'But I haven't got a lighter! You conjure me up a lighter, Tony; I'll smoke it the normal way!'

Tony rubbed his thigh absentmindedly, wincing at the pain. Careful, Almeida. He's about to lose it again, and he's just struggling with coping. He really needs something to pull himself together. 'So gimme a moment to think,' he replied, frowning. 'That guard that keeps coming, he's a smoker, I can smell it from a mile away!'

Colin glanced at him outraged and Tony shrugged apologetically. 'I got an idea. Sit tight, ok?' His friend nodded and Tony rose, waiting for the guard. Tony met his eyes on the next patrol. 'Sir, I need to go to the bathroom,' he begged, surprised himself how genuine he sounded. 'It's real urgent,' he added, clutching his stomach and pulling a miserable expression onto his face. The guard glared at him and shook his head. 'Sir, we missed our afternoon toilet break.'

The guard frowned, aware every prisoner was permitted three bathroom breaks. 'Very well, convict. Stick your hands through the bars,' he instructed, and Tony turned, feeling his hands cuffed behind him. A second guard arrived and unlocked his door and he was escorted along the corridor and into a dingy bathroom. He took a deep breath, holding it, aware of the overwhelming stench. The guard helped him remove his trousers while the second guard remained outside, guarding the bathroom door. Tony turned, slipping his hand into the man's pocket, feeling something hard. Breathless, he withdrew his hand and moved over to the toilet. Back in his cell he slid it underneath his mattress, resolved to pass it to Colin at his first opportunity.

'How the hell did you manage that?' Colin exclaimed, unable to believe his eyes. 'Tony? How did you bribe him to lend you a lighter?'

Tony chewed his lips, refusing to meet his eyes. 'Just have your smoke, ok! Try and spread it round.'

Colin's fingers shook as he lit his cigarette, drawing the smoke deep into his lungs. A peaceful expression crept across his face and Tony shook his head, pulling the lighter back through the bars. We got ten minutes before the guard comes again – hopefully he'll have finished by then, and somehow I got to return this.

'Hey, you, pass me that lighter,' hissed a voice, and Tony turned in dismay, observing a thug covered in tattoos pointing at him. 'You wanna broken neck?' he snapped.

'Where's your cigarette?' Tony demanded, aware the situation had suddenly deteriorated. There was no way he would hand a lighter over to anyone of that appearance.

The man swore for a full minute while Tony remained silent, unflinching. 'Look, you haven't got a cigarette, so I'm not giving this to you.' He turned his back, relieved the prisoner was housed in a different block to his own. The thug slammed his fist into the bars, the clang echoing through the corridor. 'Watch it, Colin,' he muttered and his friend finished smoking the butt, burning his finger tips. The door slammed open and two footsteps approached.

'What the hell's the problem? This is a silent area.' They reluctantly granted the thug's request to use the bathroom without threatening him, to Tony's surprise.

He held the lighter in his palm, determined to seize the first opportunity to get rid of it. Minutes later the door opened and the guards returned, locking the thug up. 'Alright, you scum, that toilet is now unacceptable.' He glanced along the row before turning to Tony. 'Convict Almeida, you haven't had a turn cleaning yet. Hands behind your back.'

Tony pushed the lighter into his pants and pushed his hands through the bars, glancing at Colin as he was led away. The stench hit him as he was pushed inside, the cuffs removed, and his feet shackled. A bucket and cloth were set before him. 'Move it, convict. Supervisor Morris will check this place in half an hour, he don't take too kindly to odors.'

'Where should I start?' Tony questioned, watching while the guard turned to point to the far corner before he returned the lighter. The work disgusted him. The block's solitary toilet required several flushes before he could even bring himself to pour disinfectant inside, his mind dreaming of home. Wet through, he watched the door open and the guards return with Morris, who poked his head inside and gave him a hard look.

'You think that's acceptable, convict?' the supervisor questioned, the entire corridor holding their breath. 'Maybe in some provincial third world town, but not here! Seems you require a little lesson. Move it.'

Tony shook his head, struggling to remain silent. He was pushed along the corridor and onto the main floor, led into the reception area and into a small room that opened from it. It was bare inside, devoid of any furnishing, grey cement surrounding him. Pull yourself together, Almeida. This won't be good.

The supervisor stood in front of him, folding his arms. 'Care to tell me why you're here, convict?' he inquired. 'Look at me, dammit.'

Tony raised his eyes, not having dared to do so before lest the man take it as a challenge. 'Not because of the bathroom,' he ventured.

The supervisor shook his head. 'You're not stupid. I want to know who was smoking, convict, who stole Officer Coombes' lighter.' Tony studied the wall beyond him, hoping to hear the proposed punishment. Morris glared at him and removed a nightstick from his belt. 'I suggest you tell me right away, before I haul that shell shocked con up here to join you!'

'Leave him alone,' Tony muttered, his heart racing. 'We both know he lacks the ability to do anything right now.'

'So you're confessing?' Morris asked, a strange gleam in his eyes.

'Yeah,' Tony agreed his heart racing. You're gonna be taught a lesson now, Almeida, about keeping your mouth shut back in D Block, picking pockets, diagnosing Colin, and even for beating your narcotics charge. You don't imagine they'll just let it go?

'I thought you might,' Morris agreed, his eyes burning brighter. 'Place your hands against the wall.' Tony shuffled forward and obeyed, feeling his undershirt pulled over his head, blocking his vision. 'Begin,' the supervisor ordered, and he heard the swish of the nightstick flying through the air, gritting his teeth to avoid screaming. Ten strokes later, as he struggled to remain silent, the supervisor spoke again. 'That will do. Step away from the wall.'

Tony turned to face the guards, breathing heavily, hoping his tears would remain at the back of his eyes for the next few minutes. He hung his head, hoping he looked sufficiently contrite. 'You look bruised, convict,' Morris told him, amused. 'Like you need to bathe those shoulders.' He turned to the guards. 'Unfortunately we don't have a shower block! Take him outside and hose him down.'

Tony stared in dismay, remaining immobile until two guards grabbed his arms and forcibly pulled him outside. He found himself in a tiny space between the block and the wall, a perpetually shaded area. 'Stop,' ordered the supervisor and he stood immobile while a guard turned on the tap and drenched him with icy water. 'That will do,' Morris said a few minutes later. 'You ready to take the rules more seriously, Almeida?'

Tony nodded, shivering in the breeze. 'Yes sir.' He longed to be returned indoors and dried and locked back in his cage. Surely he had been punished sufficiently?

'Alright, let's go,' Morris ordered, and the guards grabbed his arms, hauling him back inside. Tony found himself marched across the main floor and into the corridor, watched in shocked silence by all the segregated prisoners. He was halted outside Colin's cell.

'Convict Haughton, thank your friend for taking your punishment. Maybe when you see the discomfort he's experiencing you'll learn to obey orders.' He gave Colin a hard look as Tony's cell was unlocked. 'Get inside, Almeida. If I have to speak to you again you'll get a lot more, that's a promise! And you thought you were ready to be released?' he sneered, turning back to Colin. 'You can't even stop causing people trouble inside!'

Colin let out a strangled cry as the group moved away down the corridor. Tony knew he should say something to prevent another episode of self recrimination, but he was in too much pain to attempt it. Instead, he pulled off his sodden underwear and sank onto the tiles, rubbing his body with the wet undershirt to wipe the drops off. Somehow he missed Colin's covert actions, spending a dismal night shivering on the floor, each breath aching. His colleague slept through the night without stirring, and he must have fallen asleep too at some stage, for he awoke with a start to an angry order. 'Convict, stand your gate!' He was about to struggle to his feet when he noticed there were no boots outside his cage.

Tony forced himself up, hissing with pain, in time to observe Colin's door unlocked and both guards move inside, one kicking him with his boot. His friend remained strangely silent. Senses heightened, Tony stumbled across his cage, calling his colleague's name. 'Colin, wake up. Dammit, wake up.' He won't, Almeida, you already know that.

'He's dead,' a guard said softly, pulling out his radio to inform Morris.

Morris entered a minute later, pulling on his jacket as he rushed down the corridor. He laid a hand on Colin's neck, nodding. 'Yeah, he's dead. Call a doctor.'

'You killed him,' Tony began, unable to keep silent. He had failed, he had taken his eyes off his colleague for just a few short hours, preoccupied with his own misery, and Colin had committed suicide. 'You killed him,' he repeated louder. 'Why'd you have to tell him he was responsible yesterday? I took his punishment! You got to beat someone, wasn't that sufficient for you?'

'That's enough, Almeida,' Morris told him. 'Remove that convict; take him to the next corridor. I won't have him disrupt the doctor!'

Tony was returned to D Block a week later, filled with hatred against the people who were supposed to protect Colin and had failed him, including himself. They had been right to interrogate him, demanding he tell them where his colleague had hidden that fatal shard of glass, but he had been truthful when he denied all knowledge. I would've removed it from him myself, had I known what he possessed. I'm real sorry, Colin.