The first week had been absolute hell. People were being dragged off left right and center for any sort of misdemeanor – from leaving wrappers behind after meals to talking too loudly to fist fighting. They always came back solemn-faced and refused to say exactly what had happened behind the closed doors. By the end of the third week it seemed nearly half the population had been pulled aside at one point or another – including Torres. I'd just about had a heart attack when the guard came up and purposefully knocked the basket of laundry out of her hands, and then took her away when she refused to pick it up.

I thought she'd punch him; she seemed the "destroy everything when indignant" type but she just kind of went limp and let him lead her off. Granted I didn't know her all that well – but at least two people had shouted during Loki's speech, so it seemed strange that not a single person had raised hell when they were unjustly… rearrested. There were a few who complained about "not doing anything wrong" but… shit even I would aim a kick at their shins before they pulled me off. My cellmate came back thirty minutes later, changed clothes, and went straight to the gym to hit some punching bags. That was the Torres I… sorta knew.

I was watching her throw herself around, dodging, and flailing like the punching bag had declared war upon her and her descendants. She had also refused to speak about what had happened after the guard dragged her off – which I was not happy about because how else was I supposed to prepare for the inevitable. I didn't push it though; people were beginning to form groups of two or more and the last thing I needed was to be the friendless one out. There was one particular group of five people that was beginning to attract quite a bit of attention though. They had the most weight to throw around, and had first dibs on everything from the front of the line during meals to first to the showers. That part really sucked because the water was lukewarm at best, and by the time the general populace got to it it was ice cold. They weren't the largest group – the biggest clique was fifteen members strong - but for some reason that group of five was the popular one.

According to my limited knowledge on prison culture that I'd gleaned from scary Netflix documentaries; they would eventually become our overlords and rape the world, sell drugs, kill people, and bribe the guards. Well… if this was a normal prison anyways. Despite all the attention though, the five original members stuck together pretty fiercely – it was clear they weren't looking for new members no matter how hard the rest of the world tried to weasel its way in. One of them I (and most others) knew by surname – Draper – he wasn't very good at hiding his identity; even before the SHIELD incident. He had a bit of an ego and plastered his name all over his products – like, his real name. He made hack tools and programs and sold them online for less experienced 'hackers' to buy and go around DDoS-ing and hacking every website or user they came across. He seemed like a good candidate to be the hacker – I don't know why Fury didn't sentence him and let the rest of us go.

"Hey." Torres suddenly dropped down beside me and took a swig of water from her bottle.
"Better?" I asked nonchalantly.
She shrugged and stretched her legs out in front of her. I took it as a, yes but I'm not still not talking about it. I wondered which one of us was the clinger and who was being clung on to. Could go either way at this point.
"Have you seen the five-group?" I asked randomly. It surprised me how terse our conversations always were; one word answers was the best she ever gave me, and I found myself doing the same in response.
"Yeah." I caught the scowl she gave at the end of it.
"Know any of 'em?"
"Nope."
Not even Draper? He was practically the Tony Stark in terms of ego in the hacking world. I vaguely considered jokingly telling her about the documentary I saw once, but she wasn't exactly the conversationalist type. She probably wouldn't think it was funny anyways. "I'm…" I looked up to the clock on the wall; we had a whole two hours left of free time. "Gonna go sleep."
"Mmm." She threw her head back and sucked on the spout of her water bottle again.

I got up and pushed down the urge to say 'bye' to her. Torres, honestly, was about as easy to read as a braille webpage - and it was a bit hard to be friends with someone like that. Besides, last night she stole my towel and I was still kinda pissed. Also, why the hell wouldn't she tell her cellmate-circumstantial-friend what the hell happens when SHIELD calls you in? Did they make you pinky swear not to say? Did they erase your memories? Was that a thing? If it was a thing, was that more or less unethical than what they were doing to us now? Were there laptops back there to steal? I need to know.

~~~~~~~01100101 01011000 01100101 00100000~~~~~~~

Jennifer hadn't expect to be called in so soon – she thought she was doing a decent job. After the guard had knocked the basket from her hands and dragged her off, her quarry had stood stock still in the middle of the hallway looking mutinous. She'd done that part of her job correctly then, if the hacker was at least considering rescuing her. She passed through the door and after it clicked shut the guard had released her and nudged her with his elbow.

"Think I pissed off your friend." He cackled.
Jennifer snorted. "I got an easy one." She tugged at the uniform lapel around her neck, "Am I in trouble?" she asked as he led her down the hall.
"Nah. The director's been calling everyone inta' talk'n update files'n stuff." He glanced over at her with a concerned look etched across his face. "You 'kay?" She was still tugging at the collar.
"Yeah. Think I'm allergic to whatever soap they use to clean these things."
The guard unlocked a second door for her and ushered her in. "Tell the director."
"Mmm." She wouldn't.

They climbed the stairwell up to the second floor in silence and stopped halfway down the hall to bang on a door.
"It's open!" a voice called from inside.
Jennifer took a steadying breath and entered, greeted by the sight of Fury, Natasha, and Loki all seated around a long table.
Fury looked up briefly from the file before him to look her over, and then went back to the file. "Agent Jennifer Malotte, right?" He asked, "Mal-ot… or.. Mal-o…" he clicked a pen and scribbled something across the top.
"It's pronounced Mal-o." She answered and walked further in to stop at the end of the table.
Fury waved her to sit and pulled a page out from the manila folder. "You're going by… Juliana Torres and you're in cell two oh eight correct?"
"Yes."
"Assigned to inmate twelve."
"That's right." she confirmed again.
"So…" he said, tossing the folder to the middle of the table apathetically. "Anything new?"
Jennifer frowned and looked to her mentor for help. Natasha was too busy grabbing at the file that Fury had discarded to notice the silent plea.

It was Loki who spoke up from his side of the table. Jennifer could hear the clink of the chains as he tucked his ankles more comfortably beneath his chair. "What we need to know is…" he said softly, "has anything changed? Do you remember your charges… basic information?"
"Of course." she answered icily, rising to the bait he was obviously laying. She'd studied the hackers file backwards and forwards since she'd been assigned to the job. A little over a year now; she could say she knew the target more thoroughly than they did themselves.
"And?" he asked again, enjoying her poorly-hidden scowl.
"They're still going by their intake name, Cambell." Jennifer could easily list all forty seven names that the target had taken, but was simply content to see that Loki wasn't satisfied that she was completely incompetent.

"And what's the first name they're using?" Natasha asked, still distracted by whatever was in the folder.
"Not given; it's just Cambell." Jennifer answered sheepishly.
"It's been three weeks Miss Malotte," Loki sighed, "Surely you're on first-name basis by now."
"They're guarded." Jennifer shot back.
"Or you just haven't given them reason to trust you." Loki answered just as quickly. "That's your only job – to gain their trust; and if you can't even perform the simplest task of your profession-"
"Thank you, Jennifer." Natasha snapped the file closed and gave a wry smile. "Try to work on getting their first name or any other information you can at this point." She waved the folder until it made a 'wobble' type noise. "This one's a bit thin."
Agent Malotte nodded jerkily and waited to be dismissed.

"Jennifer…?" Loki asked pleasantly. She forced herself to look him in the eye.
"Yes?" She glanced around nervously, unsure of his position within SHIELD. The 'sir?' part of her question came out gratingly.
He smiled. "I know you're… terribly busy, but…" He motioned with his hand toward the one-way window that overlooked the cafeteria. "While you're at it, there's a group of five out there without an agent in it. Do try your hand at infiltration – I can't be everywhere."
She nodded again and was saved from saying, 'yes sir' when Fury dismissed her.
"Don't make anything up if they ask." Romanoff called a second later, "Just don't answer – and keep 'em out of trouble! A couple of agents let theirs get out of control and into fistfights earlier." Jennifer waved an affirmation and stalked all the way down the hall, muttering a quick 'thanks' to the guard that held open the door. I need to punch something, she fumed.

~~~~~~~01100101 01011000 01100101 00100000~~~~~~~

Torres entered in a huff and threw herself face-down onto her mattress.
"Shh." I growled angrily. She'd woken me from my half-dream state... wow she stinks. She'd really put her heart into beating that bag.
She kept her face in the blankets. "It's almost dinner," she said, muffled.
"Thanks."
She looked up and frowned, clearly annoyed. "We should go."
"It's too early man!" I snapped and rolled over to face the wall.
"Fine." She got up again. "Don't come crying to me when they haul you off and beat your ass 'cause you didn't listen."
I turned over to look her up and down. She didn't have any bruises, or… visible ones. "That what they did to you?" I asked as casually as possible.
She didn't answer and left our cell. The doors weren't locked during free time – it was a pretty relaxed prison in that sense. The people who had gotten into a fist fight earlier were locked up though. We were given quite a bit of freedom if we were well behaved; I'd hate to have my ability to wander around aimlessly impeded because I'd slept through dinner.

I stumbled up sleepily and half-trotted down to the cafeteria, just in time to hear the gates click locked behind me. Fuck me that was close... stupid clocks' probably five minutes slow. The food line was short because of my lateness, so I lined up and grabbed a tray; then waved my barcoded wrist-bangle under the scanner. I used the time that it took to log me in to figure out where Torres was – she wasn't in our usual spot by the third pillar. I should have just left with her, I griped, now I'm gonna have to sit somewhere else. It was like high school all over again. The little machine greeted me by the fake name that I'd asked the intake agent to call me by, and sent my information back to the lunch ladies. I wasn't allergic to anything.

"Hey, move!"
I jerked out of my reverie and realized that I was holding up the line. "Sorry." I muttered. I placed the tray up on the ledge and watched the lunch lady fill the compartments with various food stuffs. At least the foods better than it was in high school. Just as I left the line to find a place to sit down, I saw her.
Torres was sitting at the five's table.
Though… not quite; she was clearly unwelcomed at their end. She had saved face by talking with another person to her right though. That asshole. The bench across from her was empty, but it was right next to a slightly-psychotic looking girl from their group. She could be… okay. Kitty-corner from her, though, was a guy who looked both willing and capable of crushing every skull within a three mile radius with his bare hands. I'd just have to sit somewhere else.

Fuck this. I dropped down at the nearest table and mentally dared the two people to say something about it.
One of them looked up and waved his spork at me cheerfully. "Hi, I'm Mark Zuckerberg."
Great, a fucking comedian. No wonder no one sits here.
His friend sighed, clearly pained, and squished his pear cubes more forcefully. "I've seen you before…" he squinted out the corner of his eye, "Don't you usually sit with that blonde chick?" he asked ruefully.
Did Torres really stand out that much? "Yeah, she's over there." I motioned with my plastic knife towards where she sat.
"What?" he jerked upright and zoned in on her table. "…Huh." He watched her for a beat longer and then slumped over again to idly flick the fruit around the tray - he seemed more awake now though. After a full minute of the fruit flicking he quickly got up and picked up his plate. "James," he said, "you're on your own." He waved goodbye and walked over to the trash.
"Wha-?" 'James' glanced up and watched his friend leave with a startled look across his face.

The friend dumped his stuff out and casually made his way over to plop himself down across from Torres.
Is he seriously hitting on her?! I fumed, is this what happens when I leave for thirty seconds?!
The group eyed the newcomer distrustfully, and then went back to laughing at whatever hilarious story the old man was telling them.
"What just happened?" James asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose.
I glared at the back of his friends head; he and Torres were hitting it off like old friends. The person that she'd been talking to originally was also leaning over to them too.
I cannot believe this bullshit. I felt completely left out –not to mention that if they got two more members they'd be a rival force to the group next to them.
"Hey…" James fiddled with his napkin nervously and smiled at me sweetly. "You wanna-"
"Nope." I got up and left as well.

~~~~~~~01100101 01011000 01100101 00100000~~~~~~~

"Have fun at dinner?" I had rehearsed what I was going to say beforehand, but the pout still sounded clear in my voice.
Torres snorted and slipped out of her day uniform without either of us turning. We'd long since given up on that civility. "I'm just surprised you even made it down in time." She answered.
I frowned and waited for her to finish with the buttons. "You still haven't told me what they do when they pull you back."
"Just…" a pained look came over her, "just don't do anything and they won't-"
"You didn't do anything!" I cried out.
"I didn't pick up the laundry." She muttered sullenly.
"That's bullshit man!"
"I didn't say it wasn't." she murmured. "Just do as they say. It's not all that bad they just-" She caught herself and edged further onto her bed. "Just keep your head down and we'll get out soon enough."
Is it seriously that bad? "Well…" I bit my lip and tried to formulate my next sentence as gently as possible. "Did you… see the layout of this place at all? Ordidyoujuststayinonearea?"
"Wha… what?" She asked.
"I mean, like," I picked at a blanket fuzzy, "The… guards…? Oh for fucks sakes, did you pass a security room?"
Her gaze narrowed and she leisurely pushed her back up against the wall. "Security room?" she repeated slowly.
"Uh…" I prayed silently that Torres wasn't a whistleblower, "Yeah you know. Like, ha… the… uh… old fashioned looking rooms with fifty TVs stuck into the wall? They… show… all the camera feeds… ahem." My fuzz picking intensified. At this rate the blanket wouldn't keep me warm anymore.

"No…" she murmured, still scrutinizing my fuzz harvest.
"I mean, I just…" This isn't working. "…what… if… THERE ARE CAMERAS IN THE SHOWERS?!" I cried.
She was silent, then "Cambell, if you're thinking-"
"Fuck no, I just-" I sighed. "Sorry. I wouldn't... it's just weird not knowing what the hell is going on."
"Mmmm." She agreed.
Should've kept my mouth shut. I pulled at a loose string and watched the corner of my blanket unravel. But she's a hacker too, and if we're gonna leave we have to work together. "Well night." I said suddenly, and rolled over to face the wall.
"…Night." She repeated a moment later.

Torres watched the faked slow rise and fall of her targets chest… they were terrible at mimicking sleep. This is definitely worth a file update. It was just in time too; the first round of elimination processes would begin next week - and unfortunately for her target their outburst had just knocked them off the 'definitely not the hacker' list.
She couldn't wait to see that smug look on Loki's face wiped clear off.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and stuff you guys! You're all so awesome! (sigmapsisin, can you tell how much I BS? ;))