It was almost one when Sandy, Kirsten, and Seth arrived home. Sandy went to his office instead of to bed, wanting to go over Ryan's file in greater detail and write down Seth's version of the night while he still remembered it. Unfortunately, Ryan's file was thin and didn't give much information. When the police arrived, the fight was over. Ryan had been on one side of the alley, the victim on the other. The victim had head trauma, and was dead at the scene. The police surmised he had obtained the wound in the course of the fight. Ryan had admitted they were fighting over a girl, but that's all the information he had given.

Sandy rubbed his hand over his face, trying to stay awake a little longer. He decided to give up the fight for the night. He needed to be alert the next day for the arraignment.

He woke up early the next morning. Even though Ryan's arraignment wasn't until noon, he wanted him brought to the courthouse with the people being arraigned at nine. He wanted to keep Ryan out of jail as much as possible, and he wanted as much time with him as he could get to figure out what happened and how they could fix it.

It was six a.m. when he first called the jail. He got a message that no one would take his call until seven a.m. So he waited an hour and called back. This time, the woman he talked to said Ryan couldn't be transferred with the early prisoners, because there wasn't enough time to get all the paperwork in order. She told Sandy he should have called earlier. Sandy tried to calmly explain that he tried to call earlier, but there was no one to answer the phone then. He then asked if he could meet with Ryan at the jail that morning instead, but she informed him that prisoners who were being transferred to the courthouse weren't allowed visitors. Sandy thanked the woman for her time and slammed the phone down. Why was nothing going right?

Kirsten was walking by as Sandy slammed the phone. She kept walking to the kitchen, to get the coffee started. She hadn't slept well at all that night. She just couldn't wrap her head around it. Had Ryan really killed someone? It didn't seem like the Ryan she knew. But how well did she really know him? How well could you get to know someone in two years? He did have a temper – she knew that. He hadn't been in a fight in over a year, really. She shook her head. He was a good kid. Sandy would fix it.
Ryan woke up when a loud buzzer disturbed his sleep. He had been in such a deep sleep that he wasn't sure where he was, but as soon as he tried to move, the aches and pains that assaulted his body reminded him exactly what had happened and exactly where he was. As he got up and made his way over to the toilet in the corner, he felt like the sloth he had seen on the Discovery Channel with Seth once. Each movement was slow and deliberate, and he didn't feel like he'd be breaking any land speed records in the near future.

He had just finished splashing water on his face when a guard came by to unlock his door. "Line up on the white line for breakfast. Keep your hands to yourself and follow the person in front of you."

Ryan nodded and did as he was told. He wasn't especially hungry, but the guard's orders didn't seem optional. As they walked towards the mess hall, he recognized a few of the guys from the ride over the night before. He figured they were in single cells because they arrived so late the night before and would be redistributed to the general population sometime that day.

He kept his head down as he made his way through the food line. He took a muffin and some juice, but passed on the eggs. There was no way his stomach could handle industrial scrambled eggs that morning.

He found an unoccupied table and sat on the end, trying to keep to himself. It didn't work though, and he was soon joined by a group of guys.

"I think they sent you to the wrong place," the leader said as he sat down opposite him. "You don't look old enough to wear orange. What did you do – steal someone's tricycle?"

His cohorts laughed as Ryan felt heat rise from his neck and on his ears. He knew he looked young and he didn't know what to do about it.

"He killed a guy in a fight."

Ryan looked down the table and saw Tough Guy from the night before. He didn't know why he was sticking up for him, but didn't think it was out of kindness.

Leader, as Ryan was referring to him in his head, narrowed his eyes at him. "That true?"

Ryan shrugged in the affirmative. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but he was pretty sure he was about to see a pissing contest between Tough Guy and Leader. He was also pretty sure he didn't want to be caught in the middle of it, but that was where he appeared to be.

"What?" Leader said. "Do you let him speak for you?"

He glanced at Tough Guy and then back at Leader. This wasn't good at all. He was being asked right here and now to pick sides and if he picked the losing side, he'd be screwed. But if he picked the winning side, he'd be indebted. He didn't want either. He wanted to be left alone to mind his own business. He looked Leader in the eye. "No one speaks for me but me."

Leader leaned over closer. "Is that right, little man? And what are you saying? Are you crying for your Mama?"

"My mama's not worth crying for," Ryan said. "My dad's in State Prison in Corcoran; my brother's in Chino. I'm just joining the family business."

"You think you're tough, punk? Let me tell you. You ain't seen tough. But you will." He got up to leave, indicating that his posse should follow.

The guy next to him drove his elbow into his side before he got up. His ribs screamed out in protest, but he did his best not to let them see how much it hurt. Once they were away, he let his breath out. Then he noticed Tough Guy still sitting down the table from him.

"You think you don't need my help?"

Ryan just looked at him, eyes wide.

"You'll regret it; don't you worry."

As Ryan was considering the fact that he'd made two enemies before breakfast was officially over on his first day in jail, a guard started reading off the names of the people who were being arraigned that day. He heard his name for the 10:30 bus to the courthouse and hoped Sandy would be there to meet him and that he could do something to get him out of here.

Sandy arrived at the courthouse early. He'd had a hard time getting out of the house without Seth, who had wanted to come along. He had convinced him that he wouldn't get a chance to talk to Ryan at all, and the plan was for Ryan to be home that afternoon once they could get bail posted. Seth would just be in the way at the courthouse and Sandy didn't need the added distraction.

He expected he'd have about an hour with Ryan before the arraignment started, and he planned to make good use of the time. He had an associate scheduled to come take photos of Ryan's injuries, and he needed to get Ryan to tell him exactly what had happened.

The door opened and Sandy was relieved to see Ryan again. Ryan shuffled forward, his movement restricted by the leg irons around his ankles.

The sight of Ryan chained set Sandy off. "What's he doing with shackles on?"

"Standard procedure," the guard said. "He's a violent offender, and all violent offenders require leg shackles."

"Take them off of him right now."

"I can't be responsible for what he might do if I take them off."

This was just the last straw in an awful twelve hours for Sandy. "Take them off." Sandy's jaw was clenched to the point of causing himself pain.

The guard removed the leg irons and handcuffs. "Okay. But you're responsible if anything happens. And I have to put them back on for his court appearance."

Once the restraints were off, the guard left and Sandy turned to Ryan sitting at the table. "Now, you are going to tell me exactly what happened last night. You are not going to leave anything out which you might think is irrelevant. That's not for you to decide. If I find out an important detail later on that you should have told me, believe me, you'll regret it."

Ryan was staring at the table. He pursed his lips and simply nodded at Sandy, without looking up at him. And that was when Sandy realized that as bad as the past twelve hours had been for him, they would have been infinitely worse for Ryan.

He sank into his chair and softened his voice. "I'm sorry. I'm just extremely frustrated and I'm tired of getting the run-around. Tell me what happened."

Ryan took in a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry, too, Sandy. For putting you through this. I'm destined to screw things up."

"No, you're not. Just tell me how you ended up in that alley. And start from the beginning."

When Ryan finished telling his story, Sandy was pleased that his version of the line-up incident paralleled Seth's. "So you didn't instigate the fights?"

Ryan was staring at his hands on the table. "No. He was looking for a fight, I think. Didn't matter what I did."

"Okay, so you were just defending yourself from him."

"I guess."

Sandy nodded, feeling better about things already. "At the arraignment, you'll plead not guilty. Then we'll need to set up a meeting with the DA at some point this week. It's obviously self-defense, and hopefully they'll agree and just drop the charges."

Ryan's face showed a glimmer of hope for the first time since Sandy saw him that day. "Do you think they will?"

"How can they not? The evidence seems to support it."

Just then, Sandy's associate arrived with the camera. He made Ryan strip to his waist, so they could get all the bruises. They took pictures of his face, his neck, his battered torso, his bruised hands.

Then the guard returned, but Sandy couldn't watch as he reshackled and handcuffed Ryan for the arraignment.

Kirsten sat in the courtroom, nervously twisting her rings. Sandy wanted her there so she could post the bail immediately, and get Ryan home faster. In theory she agreed, but she couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that he had killed someone. Ryan. The sweet, quiet, funny young man who had captured her heart had killed a man. How could it have happened? It didn't seem real.

She didn't know how she could look at him the same again. Would he be the same again? Maybe he wasn't the same. Maybe he wasn't who she thought he was in the first place. He killed a man. She couldn't get that out of her head.

She felt Sandy sit down next to her; she looked over at him as he took her hand, stilling the nervous twisting. She wanted to know what Ryan said, but she was afraid to ask. "How is he?"

"He's pretty battered, but he's doing okay." Sandy paused, and Kirsten waited for him to tell her what she wanted to know but couldn't ask. "It was an accident, Kirsten. The guy was attacking him and he kicked him away. He didn't know he was dead until he was arrested."

Kirsten nodded, trying to figure out what this meant, how this fit. Killing a man by accident – did that make it better or worse? Then the judge came in and started the arraignments. Drug dealers, armed robbers, murderers. Ryan didn't belong with these people, though the police believed he did.

The clerk called Ryan's case and Kirsten watched him being led in. His hands were cuffed and his legs were shackled. She was shocked to see him like that and wondered what he might have done that would require leg shackles. The guards seemed to think he was dangerous – did she really want to post bail if he were considered dangerous?

But then she looked at his face and her fears were pushed aside and replaced with worry for him. He was bruised and cut and his whole body language spoke of defeat. He didn't deserve chains. She watched as Sandy approached Ryan, putting his hand on his shoulder. Ryan barely looked up at him, nodding as Sandy pointed in her general direction. She wanted to catch his eye, to reassure him that she was there for him, but he wouldn't look back at her.

She barely heard his response of "not guilty" when the judge requested a plea. She felt sick when the DA started to describe Ryan and the crime – bar fight over a girl, refused to cooperate with the police, rich family who could easily pay bail. Sandy defended Ryan's character – his 4.0 GPA, his involvement with school and soccer – and the judge fell in the middle of the DA's request for no bail and Sandy's request that Ryan be released on his own recognizant. Not really the middle, since the bail was set quite high, but not high enough that she was worried about it. She hurried over to the clerk, because Sandy said they can be stringent and refuse the bail if it wasn't paid immediately. Then they'd have to pay it at the jail, and it would take longer to get Ryan released. She saw Sandy slip out of the courtroom, hoping to find Ryan again.

Sandy was on his cell phone when a guard brought Ryan back to the meeting room.

"Kirsten got your bail paid," Sandy said as he hung up the phone. He sat down at the table as Ryan stretched his arms out. "The paperwork should all be in place by the time you get back, and I'll be waiting for you when they release you."

Ryan tried to protest. "I can't let you guys do that for me. It's too much."

"Hey, don't worry about it. Unless you're planning to run, it shouldn't be a problem."

But to Ryan, it wasn't a matter of them getting the money back or not; it was something they shouldn't have to be doing. Not that he wasn't grateful, and not that he wanted to spend one more minute in a cell, but he figured he could survive for a few more days until the meeting with the DA where Sandy said they could probably get the charges dropped.

He felt Sandy's hand on his shoulder. When he looked up, Sandy was staring at him earnestly. "We're going to work things out. We're here for you. And we couldn't imagine leaving you in jail when you don't have to be. Trust us."

Ryan nodded. "Thank you."

Sandy smiled at him. "Don't mention it, kid."

Sandy got Ryan to tell him about his night again while they waited for the arraignments to be completed. Sandy had taken plenty of notes by the time the guard came to take Ryan back to jail. Ryan stood up to endure the humiliation of the cuffs and shackles one more time. He concentrated on the guard's movements, watching as the cold metal encircled his wrists, as his ankles were tethered together to restrict his movements. He didn't want to see Sandy's face; he didn't want to see his own embarrassment reflected in his eyes.

But when he looked up, Sandy was staring steadily at him and he didn't see embarrassment. He saw understanding, and maybe a bit of hope. "I'll be right behind you. Okay, kid?"

Ryan waved back at him the best he could as he shuffled off with the guard.

TBC