Mouse smiled at Summer as they got back to the prison. As much as she would never admit it, Summer's mood had noticeably brightened since she had seen Dillon during their work assignment.

"You know, you're going to start catching flies." Mouse teased her. "That's probably the first time I've seen you smiling since you got here."

"I haven't had a whole lot to smile about recently." She replied, fingering the tracking collar around her neck absent-mindedly. "He said that the Rangers are looking into my case. They're trying to get me out of here."

"So why aren't I bowled over with excitement?" Mouse asked her. "I thought you'd be dancing a jig."

"It's pointless Mouse." She sighed. "I did it. I killed those guys..."

"You don't know that." Mouse replied. "You said yourself you haven't remembered everything."

"My hand was on the knife Mouse." She reminded her. "I fought with them, but because I was drugged I couldn't beat them."

"Dillon doesn't believe you were capable of that." Mouse told her. "Maybe you should have a little more faith in yourself."

"I don't know Mouse, I just don't know." She muttered under her breath. "I'd like to think I didn't kill them, but I just don't know. After what happened before...I just don't know how far I'd have gone to stop them."

"What happened before?" Mouse asked, realising what she had said. "You were attacked before?"

"It was a couple of years ago." Summer told her. "I thought I'd gotten over it, but this whole thing..."

"Summer, I've only known you a couple of days and I already know this much about you." Mouse stated flatly. "You would never have killed them if you had another option. I've met more than my fair share of cold-hearted killers in here, and I know for a fact that you're not like any of them."

"Thanks Mouse." Summer said, putting a hand on her shoulder gently. "I swear I'd have gone crazy by now if it wasn't for you."

"Hey, just give me your share of desert the next time its apple pie and we'll call it quits." She replied with a smirk.

"It's a deal." Summer replied. "Now, if we hurry we can get a shower before dinner. I swear I smell like week old diapers."

"You haven't sampled the joys of recycling duty yet." Mouse laughed. "If you think you smell now, wait until you've had to work the recycling yard."

Dillon arrived back in The Garage, finding Ziggy, Scott and Flynn sitting around with a stack of papers. He came over to them, taking a seat.

"How is she?" Ziggy asked him. Dillon shook his head sadly.

"She's surviving, but that's all I can say right now." He sighed in defeat. "I've never seen her so vulnerable."

"Is she OK?" Scott asked him. Flynn looked on sympathetically. So far he was the only one who knew how much this whole thing had been affecting the Black Ranger. Only he knew how much of his heart was invested in getting her out of this situation.

"She's a little roughed up." Dillon told him with a weak smile. "The other girls don't play nice. Nothing she can't handle."

Despite his casual tone and his reassurance to the others, his heart was breaking to think of her in that situation. She was a strong person, but he knew from the look in her eyes that she was close to the edge. No one could defend themselves 24 hours a day. One on one, he had no worries about her facing anybody. Of course it wasn't as if the other inmates would fight fair and he knew it.

"We found a connection between Stephen Walker and the three victims." Scott interjected. Dillon noticed the way he had shut himself off and focused on the task at hand. All along he thought he didn't care, but he could now see that wasn't the case at all. His eyes betrayed the fact that all he wanted was to go and bring Summer home, but he knew that wouldn't help her. He had directed all of that passion, all those feelings into his drive to investigate the case. "They were all inside together."

"They went to prison?" Dillon asked him.

"Stephen Walker was in prison for six months for the illegal production of moonshine." Scott informed him, "Paul White, Marc Gallows and Terry Boller were all serving a year for purchasing controlled substances. They were all assigned the same cell."

"I guess Stephen just neglected to mention that when he was questioned." Dillon said a little sarcastically. "So there's a chance whoever the fifth guy was met them in prison."

"I think that's as good a lead as we have." Flynn sighed sadly. "Other than that, there's no connection."

"Ziggy, you have contacts in the prison..."

"Dillon, I don't have contacts in prison." Ziggy interrupted him. "I have guys that either want to hurt me...or kill me very painfully."

"I guess that's true." He conceded. "I just hoped to find out if there was someone else they spent a lot of time with."

"I guess we've got a long night ahead of us." Flynn stated, getting up from the table. "I'll put on a pot of tea. I'll be right back."

"Scott, I wanted to say something." Dillon said as he picked up a pile of paperwork. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" He asked.

"I know we've bumped heads a few times." Dillon told him. "I'm not used to having to take orders. For a long time the only one I had to answer to was myself."

"I will admit that you haven't been the easiest guy to work with." Scott told him.

"Well the thing is, this thing's really done a number on me." He admitted. "I've been so angry and confused and....I guess I just didn't notice I wasn't the only one hurt by this. When you didn't go nuts like I did, I thought you didn't care about Summer. I was wrong, I'm sorry."

"Hey, we all care about her." Scott stated with a smile as he felt a connection to the Black Ranger he hadn't felt before. "She's been like a sister to me for longer than I can remember. All I wanted to do when the guards took her away was kick the living crap out of all of them and take her away, but I knew that wouldn't help her. The only way we can help her is to prove she didn't do this."

"You've never doubted her. Have you?" Dillon asked him. Scott shook his head.

"Not for a second." He replied.

Back at the prison, Morris had been called to the Warden's office. She stood before Ronan, her head hung low. She knew all too well his propensity for cruelty, and so she was more than a little nervous in case he decided she had done something to offend him.

"I understand you've been making our latest inmate feel welcome." He told her.

"We haven't gotten on if that's what you mean." She replied, fidgeting nervously.

"Well I didn't expect you would." He responded. He got up from his chair and stood nose-to nose with her. "I expected her to be broken by now."

"She's tough." Morris told him. "She's been close to breaking point a few times now, but that damned cellmate of hers, Mouse, has pulled her back."

"Mouse?" He asked curiously. "I didn't think she had any friends."

"She didn't until she came." Morris replied. "She actually punched me during the attack."

"She's never had the stones to look anyone in the eyes before, much less punch them." Ronan commented. "You're sure that she's the anchor keeping our favourite inmate going?"

"Undoubtedly." Morris told him. Ronan smirked and poured two glasses of whisky. He handed one to Morris and sat on his desk.

"I have to oversee the male wing this afternoon." He told her, sinking it in one swig. "I think it's been too long since Mouse paid a visit to the infirmary."

"I can change that." Morris replied. "How far do you want me to go?"

"Don't kill her." He instructed her. "But make sure she's out of the picture for a few days."

"No problem." She replied, drinking the whisky in one go. "She'll be eating through a straw by the time I'm finished."

Back at The Garage, the guys were going cross-eyed reading report after report about the time Stephen Walker had spent in prison. Dillon put down the report he was reading and rubbed his eyes wearily.

"I swear there has to be something we're missing." Dillon told them. "We've only narrowed this down to about four hundred people! It could have been anyone they were inside with. The prison has about a thousand inmates at any one time!"

"What about Guards?" Ziggy suggested. The others all looked around at him quizzically. "Look, the majority of stuff that happens inside is down to the guards. They're the only ones nobody watches too closely. Maybe we're looking at this all wrong. Maybe the other guy wasn't an inmate."

"You're a lot smarter than I thought." Scott said in a veiled compliment. "Maybe we should be looking at officers rather than inmates."

"Well there is one way we can narrow the field." Dillon suggested. "Stephen's in a cell right now. Maybe we should talk to him again."

"It beats the hell out of getting eye-strain from reading reports." Flynn piped up, pulling on his jacket. "Let's go."

Back at the prison, Summer had finished showering in the shower block, before putting on fresh clothes. She had never appreciated the simple joys of a warm shower so much before, but in this environment, it was heavenly. She arrived back at the cell to find Mouse lying on the floor, badly beaten and bleeding heavily.

"MOUSE!" She shrieked, rushing over and kneeling by her side, checking over her quickly. She had been stabbed in the stomach, and she had been badly beaten. "Mouse, what happened?"

"Morris." Was all she could say before finally succumbing to her injuries and passing out. Summer balled her fists in anger. This was because of her and she knew it. She walked purposefully from the cell and made her way to the mess hall. There, she found Morris sitting with half a dozen other prisoners, laughing and joking as she ate.

She grabbed a steel dinner tray and made her way over, smashing it into Morris' face, sprawling her across the floor.

She snarled, throwing the tray aside. The other inmates got up from the table. "Are you going to hide behind your cronies as always? Make sure we're under no doubt that you're a coward?"

"This one's mine ladies." She told her friends, gesturing them aside. "The Ranger bitch is mine!"

Meanwhile, over at the remand unit, Stephen Walker was sitting in his cell when Dillon and Scott came into the room.

"Hey, that guys a freaking psycho!" He screamed, gesturing to Dillon and retreating into the corner. "Get him the hell away from me!"

"Well, we only want to ask a couple of questions, and then we'll be out of here." Scott assured him. "We know that you, Paul White, Terry Boller and Marc Gallows were cellmates in prison."

"That was a long time ago." He said, his eyes never leaving Dillon. He remembered only too well his savage beating at his hands. His arm was still in a sling after being broken by the Black Ranger. "I didn't think it was important."

"Well we do." Scott informed him gruffly. "Was there anyone else you were close to inside?"

"No, we all kept to ourselves." He answered him. "It's the best way in there."

"What about guards?" Scott asked him.

"The screws?" he asked with a note of disgust. "Trust me, no one likes the screws."

"Dillon, I'm just stepping outside for a second." Scott stated. "Let me know if he becomes more talkative."

"NO WAIT!" He screamed as he realised that he would be alone in the cell with Dillon. "There was one guy we met inside. He processed our parole papers. He acted as our parole officer."

"He was the parole officer for all four of you?" Scott asked him. Stephen nodded. "What's his name?"

"Ronan Wells." He answered.

Back at the prison, Summer and Morris brawled back and forth in the mess hall as the other prisoners cheered on. Summer got the upper hand, sending Morris to the ground with a hard punch to the face. As she reached for her grounded opponent, Morris lashed out. She felt a searing pain in her side and looked down to see a large, open gash. Looking back to her opponent, she saw Morris holding a blood-stained shiv fashioned from a piece of broken glass.

"I'm going to cut you in half!" She spat in her anger.

"Go for it!" Summer snapped in response. Morris lunged at her, narrowly missing her with the blade as Summer dodged aside and hooked her arm. She twisted it painfully, just as she had been trained so long ago. She felt the bones snap under the pressure as she bore Morris to the ground. She turned her over to face her, before picking up the shiv and raising it overhead.

She looked into Morris' eyes and saw the unmistakable look of fear in her. She felt her mind being assaulted again by flashbacks to the night of the murders. She looked to the hand holding the shiv, covered in blood and got a vivid image in her mind. It wasn't a piece of glass, it was a knife. Her hand was on the handle as she looked into his lifeless eyes. She tried to pull it out, she tried so hard, but she just didn't have the strength.

"I didn't put the knife into his chest." She murmured to herself. "I was trying to pull the knife out."

She threw the shiv aside and held her head, closing her eyes to focus as more images came to her. She had thought it was a shadow before, something meaningless, but now she remembered. There was another man in the apartment. He was wearing a black hooded top, and she couldn't see his face. She remembered seeing him covered in blood with something in his hand. The knife.

"I didn't do it!" She muttered as she got off Morris' chest slowly. "I didn't kill them, he did."

At that, she felt a sharp blow to her kidneys and collapsed on the floor as the guards finally entered the room.

"Take Morris to the infirmary, Ranger girl here's broken her arm." One of the guards stated as he handcuffed Summer's hands behind her back. "The Warden wants to see her."

Summer was hauled roughly to her feet and led from the room. Before she knew it, she was back in Ronan's office. He waved the guards out of the room before gesturing her to take a seat.

"I told you before, how easy your life is depends on you." He taunted her, pouring himself a whisky. "If you continue to pick on the other ladies..."

"She hurt Mouse." Summer interrupted him. "Your guys did nothing to stop it!"

"Your friend will be fine in a couple of days." He informed her. "By the time you get out of the hole she should be back in general population safe and sound."

"You're sending me back to the hole?" She asked him with a defiant sneer. Ronan pulled a nightstick out of his desk drawer and held it menacingly under her chin.

"Don't test me girl." He hissed aggressively. "In here I'm God! I rule your existence. I decide what happens to you. I can make you hurt in ways you'd never imagine in your worst nightmares."

"Your breath's handling that already." Summer replied. Ronan sent her to the floor with a back fisted slap. He knelt over her and grabbed her collar, pulling her up to face him.

"Remember, I am God here." He sneered. Summer spat in his face. Ronan staggered away a little, before pulling out a handkerchief. As he looked back to her, Summer got a good look at his face, splattered with blood from the fresh split in her lip and she got the most vivid flashback yet.

She was back in the apartment, fighting for all she was worth when she felt blood splattering across her and saw the first of her attackers falling away. The man in the black hooded top had stabbed him in the neck. All she could hear was screams and all she could see was blood as he butchered the others. As he rammed the knife deeply into one of her attacker's ribcage, he fell to the bed. Tears stung her eyes painfully as she tried in vain to pull out the knife, somehow hoping that removing it would make him live. The stranger's hood slipped and she got a good look at his blood splattered face.

"It was you!" She shrieked as she came back to reality. "You killed them!"

"Have fun trying to prove it!" He sneered as he began beating her savagely with the night stick. A guard came into the room, finding Summer in a bloody, beaten heap on the floor and Ronan standing over her breathless from the exertion of the beating.

"Take her to the infirmary to stabilize her." He ordered. "Then she goes into the hole for a month. Restricted rations."

"But sir..."

"I'm the warden here!" He roared as the guard started to protest. "Do as I say or find another job!"

"Of course sir." The guard replied, picking Summer's unconscious body up off the floor. "Infirmary, then the hole."

"I'm glad we understand each other." Ronan snapped as he left. He poured himself another whisky and gulped it down quickly. He was sure the memory loss caused by the drugs would be permanent, but she now knew the truth.

"Who will everyone believe?" He said to himself as he poured another glass. "I own her."