Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

The door to his cell slid open with a not-so-subtle clatter, and as he looked inside, he felt his blood run cold. His cell-mate was incredibly familiar to him, and that fact unsettled him. They had had a rather successful hit-and-run business for a while there, where he would nab the victims and Chris would attack them. After all, the brains and the brawn had been distributed that way, and why mess with the natural order? But, as it turned out, maybe the Neanderthal had a bit of a brain after all. He'd wised up to Chris' plan and tried to turn him in. It didn't work.

Now, Chris stared into the eyes of his former partner-in-crime, realizing that only a few feet stood between them now. And soon, even those would be eradicated. With a forceful shove, he stumbled into the cell and listened as the door slammed closed with a clack. Once the lock slid into place, he knew that he was on his own. Now unshackled, he moved backward until his back was pressed against the door. The bald man rose off his bed, the metal creaking from the relief from the weight. Chris swallowed hard. So, this was how he would die.

A meaty hand slapped him in the chest, a few centimeters below the throat. It cut off all of the air to his brain and for a second, he blacked out. But then, that hand closed around his throat and shook him violently for several seconds. The black dots came back more viciously this time. He felt like he was about to upchuck, not that anyone would have cared. There was a special hatred amongst the cops and inmates for those who had hurt children, and Chris had just hit that pet-peeve on the head. His throat raw, he tried to force out words. It was useless.

With a measly flick of his wrist, he sent Chris flying across their tiny little cell. Wasn't it just perfect that he would get stuck with this monster? He knew that this monster was messed up in the head, knew that he was psychologically unbalanced, but did he really deserve this? And then he thought yes, yes, he did deserve this. That little girl could have died, and maybe he had only used her as a means to an end, but she was still Adam's daughter and he could have ended her life there. He could have killed an innocent six-year-old girl.

When his former partner lifted him up and threw him over toward the beds, he didn't protest. He deserved to be manhandled by this monster. He hit his head on the side of the bed, blood leaking into his sandy blond hair. The sickly smile on the man's face only caused his heart to sink further into his chest. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable end. But it never came. Instead, the bigger man took him by the bloody hair and lifted them so that they were eye-level. Chris swallowed hard, tasting the coppery tang of blood.

"So, I hear you tried to kill a six-year-old girl…"

Ryan hovered at the man's bedside, staring down at him with a distant, closed-off look on his face. How long had it taken to convince himself to come here? He didn't know. He didn't like it here. But then, that almost seemed foolish to say. Not many people liked to be in the hospital. Hell, not many people enjoyed sitting at the bedside of one that they cared about, one that they loved, and watch them rot in a vegetative state. Softly, he brushed the South African's hair away from his face. He looked so innocent there, even oddly… peaceful.

Their baby girl, Annalese, cooed softly in his arms. Her toothless mouth had taken a wad of his shirt and she was gnawing on it softy. Her drool was all over the place, but Ryan didn't mind too terribly. It always used to make Justin laugh when she would slobber all over her teething toys. And, to be quite honest, it was better than having her try and take a bite out of his arm. Ryan lifted a hand and stroked her soft tufts of brown hair tenderly. She laughed, waving her chubby little arms around in wide circles. She was so much like him.

At six-months-old, it was the sad truth that Justin had only been able to hold her once – the same day that she was born. There had been some post-birth complications that required Justin to stay in the hospital, but Annalese had been cleared to come home. Ryan had taken her home, not knowing that that would be the last time he would ever be able to speak to his husband. With trembling hands, he rolled Annalese around on his lap and let her look at her Mommy. She continued to coo sweetly, bubbles of drool coming out of her mouth. She didn't know.

"Why? Why would you do it? Why would you hurt him when he's done absolutely nothing to you!" Ryan screamed, slamming his hands down onto the table. Why he had been allowed this interrogation, he would never know. But he would enjoy every minute of it.

Justin's attacker tilted his head to the side, a sickly-sweet smile on his face. He still had the South African's blood underneath his fingernails. "Why would I hurt him? Really, Ryan, I thought you were smarter than that. I hurt him because I could." He shrugged nonchalantly.

It took all of his self-control not to reach across the table and strangle him then and there. "You think you're funny, bastard?" The man remained silent, just staring into Ryan's eyes. "This isn't a joke. I want the truth. I don't want to hurt you," that was a lie, "but don't leave me no other choice."

"Fine, you want to know why I hurt him." Ryan nodded. "Because he was mine, and that baby should have been mine, and if I couldn't have him… well, why should I let you have all the fun?"

Ryan stared down at Justin. Six months he had been in a vegetative state, thanks to his killer. The doctors were able to identify that he had been stabbed in the stomach while pregnant, and that the blade had missed Annalese by mere centimeters. However, it had cut into a major organ and he was now bleeding internally. Every day that he didn't wake up on his own made his chances of survival even slimmer. And now, Ryan could feel that it was time to let go. He couldn't hold onto him anymore.

He turned to the doctor and nodded. "It's time." He said.

"Are you sure?" The doctor asked. Ryan nodded, holding Annalese closer to him. She had started to wail, but he could barely hear her. All he could hear was the siren call of the flat line on Justin's heart monitor.

Tears streaked down his face as he took hold of Justin's hand, kissing him one last time. "I love you, baby. Goodbye."