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X. March

"How are you doing today, Lawrence?" the fat shrink asked.

Law grimaced. He fucking hated being called "Lawrence". Almost as much as he hated fat, patronizing shrinks.

"Fine", he muttered resentfully.

"You don't sound fine."

Law turned a seething glare of the guy. Patronizing asshole. "I'm chained to a friggin' chair."

The shrink considered him for a moment, peering over his stupid half-moon shaped glasses. "If I have the restraints removed, are you going to be cooperative?"

Sometimes it was just too much. Law leaned back and grinned sardonically. "Ya have any idea how much ya sound like a third-rate spy movie?"

The doctor sighed. "Very well. What would you like to talk about today?"

"Tell me 'bout cha wife. She hot?" He had been in the psych ward for over a month, and fear of what they might do to him had had plenty of time to be replaced by the familiar hatred. I'll kill you, old man. Law's smile widened at the thought. But he wasn't crazy enough to say it out loud, in spite of what they said.

"Let's talk about your family."

"Screw you."

"Lawrence…"

Law shrugged. "Parents dead, no brothers, don't know where my sister is. Maybe she's dead, too."

"What was your relationship with your father like?"

"I loved him to death and he loved me to little bitty pieces and we went fishin' every Sunday." Law's tone was low and mocking.

"How would you like to go back to the general population?"

"I don't give a rat's ass where you put me."

"The orderlies tell me it has been over a week since you've displayed any violent behavior."

Law got as comfortable as the cuffs would allow and tuned out the ensuing psycho-babble. For a while there, they'd had him so drugged up that he couldn't walk straight. Now he played back what that had felt like and let the rage and hatred flow through him. Couldn't even remember most of that time. Just holes. Yawning black holes. Gaps filled with nothingness. Who knew what the dirty bastards had done to him. He looked up at the fat shrink (still talking, of course) and felt his skin crawling with revulsion. It complimented the hatred nicely.

He wasn't aware he was clenching his fists. And he almost wasn't aware of the fact that as soon as the orderlies got here and un-cuffed him he planned to lunge across the desk and bash the fat shrink's head in. Law just managed to catch the tail end of that thought and pull it back to the front of his mind. He considered it almost lovingly as he watched the fat lips opening and closing. Imagined the sound of the man's face smashing into the cheap imitation wood. The nose would break first. It would make a wet crunching sound. Law knew that. What would it sound like when his skull cracked?

"So, I believe you're well enough to return to your old cell." The shrink was wrapping up. Law said nothing. It was taking all his concentration to kill the plan he had just been thinking of. The plan was dying damn hard.

The shrink pressed the button and the orderlies came traipsing in like clowns out of a clown car. They un-cuffed him and Law bit the inside of his cheek hard (Would it be a crunch or a crack?). Finally, the vision of killing Ol' Fatty receded.

Then Fatty was actually coming toward him, his hand extended. Just asking for it. A thought- I'm not drugged up this time- flitted through Law's mind. And on the heels of that came a nightmare image.

"Get the fuck away from me, suckhole", Law snarled. The look in his eyes was so rabid that the psychiatrist, who had been working at the prison for 21 years, drew back a couple of steps. All thoughts of shaking hands were promptly dismissed. He nodded at the orderlies, and they took the patient away.

***

The next morning after breakfast (some unidentifiable slop which Law ate without comment) they returned him to his cell. Harry looked up fearfully as Law entered. "You want anything, boss?"

Law remembered Harry, and he knew he ought to do something to make sure Harry remembered him. He'd handle that later. Maybe tonight. For now he only muttered, "Fuck off, ya pansy." Then he lay down on the bunk and closed his eyes.

"Um, boss?" a timid voice said quite close by. Law slit his eyes open.

"What."

"I'm really sorry to disturb you, boss…"

"Fuck's sake, what?"

"Are you taking the bottom bunk, now? I mean, is it okay if I sleep in the other one? Do you want both, or…" Harry's voice had faded to a whisper sometime during this speech, and eventually it just trailed off altogether.

Law propped himself up on an elbow and looked into Harry's pale, scared, sheepy face. He had completely forgotten that the bottom bunk was Harry's. After a moment, he began to laugh. It wasn't a pretty sound, and it sent Harry scurrying off to the other end of their cell. That made Law laugh harder. He turned on his side and lay back down, feeling almost content. Harry was damn amusing. Maybe he wouldn't hurt him too badly tonight.