TW: Police brutailty, mention of a suicide attempt

"Well, this fuckin' sucks," Ace slammed his food tray down at the lunch table. Whatever Townsville County Jail tried to pass off as mashed potatoes and meatloaf splattered onto Arturo and Billy's trays beside him.

"Watch it, man!" Arturo snapped.

Ace grunted and sat between the pair. His nose, still bruised from the Professor's attack, was roughly bandaged up by the jailhouse nurse shortly after he arrived before she sent him on his merry way. His orange jumpsuit was a few inches too short and dug into his nuts, and the constant chatter of the other inmates was really starting to piss him off. "Those fuckin girls, that fuckin' Utonium. I swear when I get outta here I'm gonna-"

"Look, can't we just eat in peace for once?" Arturo cut him off. "You're acting like you're the only one getting screwed over here. I didn't even do anything to that chica," he gestured over to Billy. "Neither did he."

"We'll figure it out," Ace said. "I'm still the mayor, ain't I?"

"Mayor," Arturo cursed under his breath in Spanish, and stood up, grabbing his tray. "I'll see you two later. If I stay here I'll lose my appetite."

"Arturo!" Billy started to get up from his seat to follow him, until Ace grabbed him by the wrist.

"Leave it," he snapped.

"Boss," Billy's mouth twitched in sadness. "I think Arturo's mad at us."

"He'll get over it. He's been acting pissy since we got here." As the gentle giant's lip began to quiver, Ace quickly added, "I'll talk to him later. He just needs time to cool off."

As Ace turned his attention back to the slop the jail passed off as food, he felt a finger poke him in the back.

"What?!" he snapped. He balled his hands into fists, ready to beat the snot out of whoever touched him.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean any harm!" the man flinched back.

Ace sized him up and down. He was a short, bald, middle aged man with glasses who looked as if a strong gust of wind could blow him over.

"What do ya want?" his eyes narrowed, letting the stranger know he was running severely low on patience.

"I… I just…" the man stuttered. "I just wanted to tell you; I'm a huge fan! The way you took the girls out of the crime fighting business, how you beat the great Mojo Jojo and took over Townsville. It was positively inspired!" he gushed, breaking out into a goofy grin.

"And heck, I was a free man for nearly a full week when you pulled that prison break of yours! Of course, my lawyer called me an idiot and I'm probably going to get a few extra years, but what's life without a bit of risk?" the man shook his head, and smiled. "Anyway, I'm rambling. Do you mind giving me your autograph?"

"My autograph?" Ace asked incredulously. "You can't be serious."

The man continued to stand there with the most sincere expression he had ever seen on a prisoner before and a pen and a piece of scratch paper in his hands to boot.

"You are serious," he deadpanned.

"Of course I'm serious. You're a legend around here. Bossman and his ilk will sulk for days and Lenny will be positively green with envy. No offense, of course," he quickly tagged on. He gestured toward a table a few feet away, where an overweight man in his late thirties with severe acne and a ponytail looked over at them curiously, while the fucking Amoeba Boys of all people scowled at him. Or at least, the big one was. The other two stared off into the distance, as if even they forgot they existed.

Ace snorted. "Nice crew ya got there. It's a wonder how ya haven't taken over the place yet."

"W-Well, I…" he stammered. "Between you and me, they're acquaintances more than anything. I'd much rather work with serious criminals like yourself, people who know how to get stuff done," he rocked back and forth on his heels. "In fact, if you're looking for a new member…"

Ace barked out a laugh. "You? Really? You ain't even green!" Ace shook his head. "I've met jellyfish with more of a spine. I don't even know who ya are."

"My name is Harold Smith," he said, his eyebrows furrowing and his back straightening out in what was a feeble attempt to appear more intimidating. "And I'll have you know I come from an infamous crime family and my very name strikes fear into the hearts of the citizens of Townsville."

"Harold Smith…" Ace racked his brain, the bland name sounding vaguely familiar. He widened his eyes, and let out a chuckle.

"You're that Suburban dope who lost your marbles back in the day! Didn't ya try to melt the Professor's head with a hair dryer or somethin?"

"It was a laser gun!" Harold snapped, his hands balled into fists. When a few of the nearby inmates and guards looked over at them, he blushed at his outburst.

"Smith!" one of the guards yelled. "You have thirty seconds to sit down and shut your mouth."

"S-Sorry, Officer," Harold stammered. He took the empty seat by Ace that a few minutes ago belonged to Arturo.

"Hey, did I tell ya you could sit here?" Ace snapped. "Go back and sit with the other losers! You wasted enough of my time."

"Wait!" Harold cried. "I… I can prove I'm useful!"

"Yeah? And how are ya gonna do that?"

"I have information about your previous right hand man, Snake."

At this, Ace's sunglasses nearly fell off his face. He quickly pushed them back up and twisted his expression into a scowl.

"This better be good."

Harold sighed in relief. "Thank you. Shortly after his arrest, the guards came into my cell one morning and told me he was my new cellmate. I was intrigued at first to be meeting a member of your renowned gang in person, and well, I guess you could say I was a tad starstruck," Harold's expression turned dark. "But when I found out what he did, what he was, well, I was beyond disgusted. If you ask me, there's nothing worse a villain could do than be a snitch," he shook his head.

"Word spread pretty fast when you and your friends were on the news for your attempted takeover of Townsville and his subsequent betrayal, and let's just say poor little Snake wasn't having a good time. It got so bad that the guards had to put him in segregation for his own safety."

This gave Ace pause. "Segregation, eh? That's a nice way of sayin' the hole."

Back in his juvie days, Ace himself ended up spending time in the hole a handful of times. Usually for fights, sometimes contraband. A couple times for nothing at all; a fellow inmate he pissed off would lie to the guards to get him in trouble, or a guard who didn't like the way he looked would accuse him of some bullshit and shove him in the six-by-eight cell with a shit eating grin that made him mad enough to kill.

"You almost sound like you feel sorry for him."

Ace snapped out of his childhood memories, and shot Harold a glare. "You don't know shit about nothin."

Harold instantly paled. "I'm sorry mister, I didn't mean to offend-"

"And don't call me mister! I ain't no damn suit."

"What do you want me to call you then?"

I don't want you to call me nothin! Don't talk to me ever again! Ace thought, but reconsidered. He looked at Harold and sighed. As skinny and pathetic as he looked, he could come in handy.

"Just call me Ace," he said. "For now. If ya play your cards right, I might let ya call me boss. I got an openin' for a second-in-command," he took the pen and notebook from Harold's hands and quickly scrawled his signature onto it.

"Here," he handed it back to the starstruck dope. "You and your buddies can hang out with me and my boys as long as ya do me a favor. You hear any news about Snake, you let me know directly."

A few moments later, the guards were ushering the inmates out of their seats and leading them back to their respective cell blocks.

"You can count on me," Harold said. "I've been here a long time, and I know which guards like to gossip."

"We'll keep in touch," Ace reached out his hand, and Harold eagerly shook it.

Snake once again closed his eyes and tried to will himself to go back to sleep, but ever since his arrest he'd probably slept less than a few hours at most.

Bang! Bang! Bang! The sound of various other inmates pounding the walls with every ounce of strength they had on every side of him, interrupted only by occasional bouts of screams. He grabbed his paper thin pillow and squeezed it over his head, the only break he got from the constant fluorescent lights above.

Ever since he was brought down here, none of the other guards spoke more than two words to him, no matter how much he begged for answers on what was going on, how long he had to stay down here, if his sister knew where he was and if she got ahold of their mother. They would just drop his meals through the flap on his door, which was the only way he was able to tell time. There were no clocks, no books, TV, or radio, and no windows aside from the skinny rectangle that allowed him to glance out into the hallway.

It was just him, his thoughts, and the banging.

"Let me out!" One particularly loud voice rang clear above the cacophony. "Get me the fuck out of here! I didn't do shit, it was that little red bastard-"

"Shut the fuck up!" the sound of a baton hitting metal boomed through the hallways. It sent goosebumps down Snake's arms. "No one believes your bullshit!"

There was a moment of silence as tension rang through the unit. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him and Snake got off of his metal slab, and looked through the tiny window on his door, his only connection to the world outside of his cell.

"You guards are all the same. You really think you're the man out there, huh? You on the outside, with all your weapons and shit while I'm trapped in this fucking box?" the inmate snapped back. He couldn't see the inmate or the guard's face, but only the back of his head as he spoke through the door of the cell across from his. "If you had half the balls you pretend to have, you'd come in here and tell me to shut the fuck up to my face. I've taken out plenty of dudes twice your size."

The guard paused for a moment before pulling out his radio.

"Samson," he said. "Yes, you junior. Your dad is too busy for this shit. I need backup to help with the rounds. I'm gonna be busy for a while." He clipped his radio back on his belt and pulled out a pair of keys, unlocking the door to the inmate's cell. He stormed inside, and Snake heard a sickening crack and an ear piercing scream. He sat back down on his "bed" and covered his ears.

"I warned ya this would happen," Ace's voice rang through his mind. "I offered you an out, ya got nobody but yourself to blame for this."

"Ssshut up, Accce," he hissed. "It'sss called having a conscience. Whatsss would you know aboutsss it?"

"Enough to know that your little 'conscience' fucked all of us over," the voice snapped. "You're such a goddamned hypocrite. You're the one who killed people, you turned snitch. If you ask me, you got exactly what you fuckin' deserved."

Screams and the wet sound of metal hitting flesh pierced Snake's eardrums no matter how tightly he gripped onto his ears. He hugged his knees to his chest, ignoring the soreness he felt as he touched his bruised, aching body.

"Make it ssstop…" Snake pleaded, to whatever cosmic being listening. "Pleassse, just make it ssstop. Let me sssleep."

It continued like that for god knows how long, before a voice cut through his train of thought right outside his door.

"Ingleberry," the voice boomed, causing Snake to jump. "It says here you're due for a shower. Put your hands behind your back and through the slot."

"O-Okay…" he said in a shaky voice. He obeyed the guard's commands and felt the familiar feeling of cold steel around his wrists. He stepped forward and turned around as the door opened.

"Follow me," he commanded.

Wordlessly, Snake did as he was told, and tried not to look back. He eyed the guard up and down. He looked fairly young; maybe in his mid to late twenties. He had dark brown hair with unruly curls, and the hint of a five o'clock shadow. But most importantly, Snake didn't recognize him.

Must be new, he thought to himself. That could be a good thing or a bad thing.

"Thank you, officccer," Snake said. "It'sss niccce to sssee a faccce, any faccce. It'sss easy to forget the outssside world existsss sometimesss."

The officer stayed silent. Snake sighed.

"I don't know if you know anythingsss about my case, but my sssister, Ivy-"

"We're not here to chat," he responded coldly. "Keep it moving."

Snake closed his mouth and looked down at his feet. The sound of banging and screaming followed them down the hall.

"Pleassse," he whispered, not caring how desperate he sounded. "I've been locked up in here for I don't even know how long. My family, we have money-"

The guard let out a bark of laughter. "You really think playing that card is gonna work? Everyone knows you haven't talked to your daddy in years Ingleberry."

Snake felt his stomach drop. "Has my sssister called? Has ssshe got ahold of our mom-"

"No, she hasn't," the guard spit out. "And what the hell is up with that hissing? Do you talk like that on purpose?"

"I…" Snake stuttered. "It's a ssspeech- er, medical condition."

"It's obnoxious is what it is," The guard gripped onto his shoulder tighter, giving him a shove.

"Either way, I wouldn't count on Mommy to save you either," he said after a moment. "Crazy bitch nearly drove her car off a bridge. Mr. Ingleberry put her in the nuthouse."

"Wait, what?!" Snake cried. He froze in place and stared at the guard in disbelief. "Why, what happened? Is ssshe okay?"

"If I had to take a wild guess, I'd say her son becoming a terrorist had something to do with it."

Snake began to feel lightheaded. He grabbed onto the guard's shirt, ignoring the feeling of the cuffs digging into his wrists. "Pleassse," he begged again. "You have to let me out of here. I need to call her, sssee if ssshe's okay-"

The guard backhanded him on the mouth, hard on the mouth. Snake crashed to the ground. In his mouth was the familiar taste of iron.

"First of all, you don't touch me. Ever. And second, I don't take demands from terrorists," he snapped. "Your daddy hates you. Your gangster buddies hate you. Your momma is a headcase. You're gonna spend the rest of your miserable life down here and when the day comes to give you the chair, I'm gonna go out and get drunk off my ass and celebrate with the rest of Townsville."

"But until then," the guard said. "I'm gonna make sure you never see daylight again."

A moment later, two nurses wheeled a bloody, unconscious man in prison scrubs in a hospital bed past them. His face was so bruised and swollen he barely even looked human.

"Hello, Officer!" Sedusa greeted the pudgy, balding man brightly. She offered her delicate hand toward who she knew was Officer Samson, the new Chief of Police, as she approached him with a winning smile. Like most men, he looked slightly dazed looking back at her, and cracked a smile back.

"Hello Ma'am," he said eagerly. "And what brings a bright young thing like you here today in a place like this?"

Sedusa giggled good naturedly. "My name is Justine St. Claire, and I represent Ace Copular, Arturo de la Guerra and William Williams. And now, the City of Townsville itself."

Within an instant, his smile faded. "I see," he said. "You're that lawyer that Ms. Bellum hired."

"Yes," she said. "I'm hoping that we'll be able to come to an agreement today for their bail and their future going forward?"

"Bail," Officer Samson shook his head. "I don't think there's a single inmate here that's less deserving of it then those lowlives. No offense Ma'am, you seem like a nice lady, but those three…" he trailed off.

Sedusa nodded, her expression never faltering. "I understand your concern, sir. Why don't we take this conversation to a more private location? Perhaps your office?" She brushed her blonde "hair" to the side and stood up straighter, emphasizing her chest.

Officer Samson raised his eyebrows and coughed. "Excuse me. Yes, I'll show you where it is." He gestured for her to follow him down the hallway.

When they got to his office, she handed him the tin in her hand.

"I bought some cookies earlier today. I saw the bakery down the street and couldn't help myself. I hope you like chocolate chip?" she looked up at him through her long dark eyelashes.

He widened his eyes. "Chocolate chip is my favorite," he said.

How original, she thought to herself. "They're mine too," she grinned. "My mother would always bake them for us for Christmas."

"I've always been a bit of a momma's boy myself," the pudgy oaf admitted, almost embarrassed. "It's been a while since she passed, but do I miss her."

"It's a wonder how certain memories stay with us, isn't it?" she said. "Family has always been important to me, as I know it is to Ms. Bellum as well. When she told me that her brother and his wife all but abandoned their daughters…" she sighed. "Well, she knew her place was in Canada, taking care of her nieces."

He sighed. "I know Ms. Bellum is in a tight position right now," he said. "But surely there must be a better solution than letting those yahoos," he grimaced. "Take over the city."

"I am only the messenger," Sedusa said. "This is what Ms. Bellum wants, and as she's my client it's my job to follow orders. She has already signed the paperwork, and all that's left to do is for Ace to sign off on his end. But first, he must be freed." At his distressed expression, Sedusa gave him a soft smile. She rubbed her foot against his under the table, causing him to stiffen.

"I can assure you, Officer Samson, that I will do everything in my power to whip those boys into shape. I'll be the angel on their shoulder, guiding them towards the right path. I know very well how to handle unruly boys."

"I… I don't doubt that, Mrs. St. Claire," he stammered.

"It's miss, actually," she corrected him. "But you can call me Justine."

At the man's dumbstruck expression, Sedusa pulled out her papers.

"Now," she turned her green eyes on him. "How about let's get these bail negotiations out of the way, and then maybe we can get a few drinks?"

"Hey Ivy, it's for you," Cassie told her when she answered their work phone. The office they had rented out for their new startup was small, but it was progress. And most importantly, something of her own that she could share with people she trusted.

"Oh!" she asked. "Is it a new client?"

Cassie's voice grew low. "It's your father."

Ivy's face fell. After their last interaction at the hospital, Ivy had blocked her father's phone number, though she didn't expect him to try to reach out again either way.

"Tell him I'm not available," she said. "Whatever he has to say, I don't want to hear it."

"It kind of sounds like it's important," Cassie said. "He said it's about your mom."

Ivy froze. The last time she had spoken to her mother was on the day of Snake's arrest. She tried explaining as delicately as she could what had happened, but before she could ask if she knew any good lawyers from her paralegal days, her mother started sobbing and hung up. Since then, it's been radio silence.

"Fine." She snatched the phone from Cassie, harsher than she intended.

"Okay, I'm here," she said. "Talk."

"You just can't stop hurting this family, can you?"

"What. Do. You. Want?" Ivy stated through gritted teeth. "I was told you had information about Mom, but if that was just some sick mind game-"

"Your mother tried to kill herself," her father stated. "She raided my liquor cabinet, got inebriated out of her mind, and nearly drove her car off the bridge just a couple days after you tried to drag her into your brother's mess."

"Wait," Ivy shook her head. "Mom did what?!"

"You broke her," he said, venom in his voice. "You and your brother. What were you thinking? Not only telling her her son is a domestic terrorist but asking her to help him get back out onto the streets?!"

"Where… where is she?" Ivy heard her voice get shaky. Her hands got clammy and she rubbed them on the side of her pants. "She's okay, right?"

"She's alive if that's what you mean," her father snapped. "Once she got checked out at the hospital I had her sent to a facility where she can get the help she needs."

"What's the name of it? I want to talk to her-"

"Absolutely not," her father snapped. "You've done enough. You said you didn't want anything to do with this family anymore, so do us both a favor and stay out of our lives. I can't be going around watching her all the time and run Ingleberry Industries. With all the damage you and your brother have done, and now the mess with your mother, the shareholders are starting to wonder if I can run my company when I can't even keep my own family in check."

"That's all you care about, isn't it?" her voice rose. "Mom almost died and your son is facing life in prison and all you can think about is how it makes you look?"

"Your mother has always been good to me, and I want her to get the help she needs," her father said. "And that's exactly why I need you to stay away from her. She's already in a fragile state, and you'll just make it worse."

"So why did you call?" Ivy fought to keep her voice steady. She could feel the tears begin to prick at her eyes. "Just to tell me what a horrible person I am?"

"I called you to let you know that your actions have consequences," her father said. "And I will not forget about this."

Her father hung up, leaving Ivy slack jawed and standing there, the dial tone ringing in the background.

"Ivy?" Cassie spoke up. "Ivy, are you alright?"

Ivy closed her mouth, and hung up the phone. She wiped the corners of her eyes with her sleeve, and turned to her coworker.

"I'm just fine," she said. "You don't happen to know how many mental hospitals are in the general area, do you?"

"Mrs. Ingleberry," Dr. Compton's voice murmured through the door. "May I come in?"

Sharon turned her gaze from the well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice on her lap. As terrifying as this place was to her, she was grateful she had a copy of one of her favorite novels to comfort her. She sat up straighter on her bed. "Come in."

The doctor opened her door and gave her a smile. Her brown hair was tied back into a ponytail, and she pushed her black-rimmed glasses over her nose bridge.

"How are you feeling today?" she asked.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking," Sharon answered, smiling. She liked Dr. Compton; she was always so friendly and gentle with her. She even went out of her way to make sure she was well-equipped with all her favorite books. She held up the novel. "Nothing better for the mind than a good book."

When Charlie came to see her in the hospital after the incident and suggested she be taken to a mental hospital, she had kicked up a fuss at first. Charlie, who in nearly thirty years of marriage had shown an emotion other than anger maybe a dozen times, did not understand her despair. He had written off their son years ago, been not only indifferent towards him but even spiteful in a way that if she was being honest, scared her.

She, too, had tried to write him off. But when she heard the news about him, and City Hall…

"I'm so glad you're doing better. And since you're doing better," the kind doctor looked hesitant. "I wanted to run something by you."

Sharon raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Your daughter," she said. "She called and was quite insistent on seeing you. Mr. Ingleberry was very specific when he said that he didn't want any visitors, but personally… I think it should be your decision," she said. "What do you say?"

Sharon froze. Ivy, her eldest child, had been the one who broke the news to her over the phone.

"Mom," she told her. "I just wanted to let you know, you're gonna be hearing some pretty horrific things about Snake these next few days, but there's a lot more to the story that you don't know yet. Please, let's set up a time to meet up and talk things out. I know you used to be a paralegal and maybe you can help him out…"

In the end, Sharon hung up on her the moment she started mentioning bombs. She grabbed her laptop and looked up the local news website and saw the image of the decimated City Hall.

She broke down, there was no other way to describe it.

She cried until she couldn't breathe, and for once forgetting her husband's temper, found her way into his wine cellar and drank everything she could get her hands on. All she could think about was the sweet baby boy she had taken home from the hospital, to the angry rebellious preteen he was before he ran away, and then to the murderer he had grown to become.

And in that moment, she knew she had truly failed at being a mother in the worst possible way, and life was no longer worth living.

She grabbed her car keys and walked out with only one goal in mind.

"What were you thinking, Sharon?!" Charlie barked at her. He didn't even ask if she was okay. "I told you I had an important meeting today, and you go and pull this stunt?!"

"Charlie," she sobbed. "Oh Charlie, thank god. Our son…" she cried. "He's been arrested for something awful."

Charlie's eyes narrowed, as they always did when their son was brought up in conversation. "That boy is always up to something awful. What else is new?"

"This is different," she said. "Sanford, he… he's been arrested for blowing up City Hall. The mayor is dead. Ivy told me everything," she cried. "Charlie, he could get the death penalty for this."

Charlie had taken her into his arms and patted her on the back for a few moments before letting her go.

"This whole situation is clearly making you sick," he said. "I think it's best for everyone if you go away for a while."

"Go away?!" she exclaimed. "Charlie, what are you saying? What about Sanford-"

"My decision is final, Sharon," he said. "I already lost both my son and my daughter. Will you have me lose you too?"

"Ivy," she breathed. "She wants to see me?"

"Yes," Dr. Compton nodded. "Very much so. Would you be okay with that?"

A smile broke out onto her face. "More than anything."

When Ivy entered the psychiatric hospital her mother was staying at, she didn't know exactly what to expect. She didn't quite expect to see her mother in a padded room and straitjacket like they showed on TV, but something akin to it.

Instead, she sat on the twin sized bed in the tiny, claustrophobic room they had given her, looking at her with dark circles under her eyes, bare and uncovered with concealer for the first time in years.

She had probably called ten different facilities in the surrounding area asking if they had any patients by the name of Sharon Ingleberry before she was finally able to find the one her mother was sent to. And even then, it took a lot of convincing before she was able to even get them to give a chance to prove she was who she said she was and visit.

"Ivy!" she pulled her into a hug. "I'm so glad you could come by."

"I'm glad to see you too," she looked her up and down. She had looked so unlike her normal, always put together self. No makeup or jewelry, and in a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants that were about two sizes too big. Her blonde hair looked like it had been hastily run through with a brush moments before she arrived.

"How are you doing?" Ivy asked. "Dad called me and told me what happened."

Her mother sighed. "Oh yes, that. It was a lapse of judgment," she answered. "That's all."

"I'd say it's a bit more than that."

"I don't want to talk about it, the whole ordeal has been embarrassing enough as it is," she said firmly. "Are you doing alright, dear? You look a little thin. I know with everything going on with your brother…"

Ivy's stomach dropped. "It's bad Mom," she said. "All my calls have gone unanswered. When I drove up to the county jail, they told me he was in solitary confinement for his own safety. God only knows what that means."

Her mother's face fell. "He's in danger," she whispered.

"He's been in danger," Ivy insisted. "And the public defender they gave him is an absolute joke-"

"I can't help him," her mother said, her voice shaking. "I…I was just a paralegal. I haven't worked since before you were born. I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Do you still have your boss's contact information?"

"It's been years Ivy, he might not even practice law anymore," her mother said. "But I can try to find it, as soon as I'm released. They never told me how long they intended to keep me here."

"I'll talk to the doctor," Ivy promised. "I know it will mean the world to Snake to know you're on his side. It means the world to me. When you get out and we can go visit him-"

Her mother shook her head. "I can't go and see him," she insisted. "You told me he was trying to save you and I believe you, but he still…" she grimaced. "I just can't, Ivy. I can't face him. Not after everything. It's too much to bear."

"Mom," Ivy's voice turned pleading. She grabbed her by the hand. "His life is on the line. He could be spending the rest of his life in prison, or even get the death penalty. Last time I saw him, he was hanging on by a thread. He needs support now, more than ever. Townsville needs to see that people support him. It could be his only chance."

"Your father would hate me," she said softly.

"He hates me, and yet I'm still standing," Ivy grinned wryly. "I let my fear keep me from doing the right thing for years, but I refuse to live that way anymore. Not when the people I love are on the line," She squeezed her mother's hand.

"I'm asking you to be brave Mom. We can't change the past, but we can be better now and try our best to fix our mistakes. You didn't stand up for him before, or for me, but you have a chance to now when we need you the most."

Her mother's eyes filled with tears. "Ivy…"

"What do you say?" Ivy asked. "Will you help me fight for your son's life?"

When Ace, Billy, and Arturo got pulled from their respective cells to meet with the Chief of Police, Ace wasn't exactly sure what to expect. Regardless, he was careful to keep his expression controlled and careless. When he entered his office, he hid his apprehension and swaggered inside as though he didn't have a care in the world.

"So what's the problem, officer?" Ace gave a lazy smile. "Need directions to the local donut shop?"

The cop's eye twitched. "Ace Copular," he nodded towards the others. "Arturo de la Guerra, William Williams, you've gotten bail. You're free to go."

"No shit?!" Ace broke out into a grin. He turned toward his boys and playfully punched Arturo in the shoulder.

"What did I tell ya? We'd get out lickedy split!"

"Yay!" Billy hollered. "Billy free! Billy free!"

Arturo, who had been avoidant and surly since they got there, widened his eyes and turned towards Samson.

"Really?" he asked. "We're free? Seriously?"

"Against my better judgment…" he grumbled. "Your lawyer is handling the paperwork as I speak," he said. "She should be back any minute."

"Hope you didn't miss me too much, Jeffy-" a familiar female voice sounded behind Ace, and he turned to see the smoking hot blonde woman from TV. When she saw him, she stopped in her tracks, and grinned.

"I see you have already fetched them for me," she placed the stack of papers in her hands on the table and reached out her hand.

"My name is Justine St. Claire. I know you don't know me, but I've been sent by Sara Bellum to help guide you in your newfound freedom and political journey."

"Hey, as long as you're gettin' me out of this dump I'll let you take me on any type of journey you'd like," Ace gave her his best charming smile.

Justine chuckled. "Of course. You and your friends just need to sign a few papers and then we can be on our way to the Mayor's Manor."

"Which is empty. Because of your lowlife friend," Samson muttered. When Justine turned to look at him, he blushed.

"N-Not that any of that's your fault, of course," he assured her. She gave him a warm smile, and like magic his eyes lit up.

"Here's a pen," Justine pulled one out of her chest, and delicately placed it in Ace's hand. When her fingers brushed against his palm, Ace immediately got goosebumps.

"Now, just sign here, here, and here as well," she pointed to a few lines, and Ace did as he was told. When he looked at the last line, he frowned.

"Hey, what does this mean?" he pointed to the last line. Justine walked over and smiled.

"'I, Ace D. Copular, agree to take on all tasks and responsibilities as Mayor of Townsville and refrain from any illegal activity for the duration of my term," she looked back at him. "It's just saying that you agree to obey the law, dear."

"Ugh. Mojo wouldn't have had to obey any stupid laws if he took over Townsville," he muttered to himself. He turned toward her. "If I sign this, does this mean that me and my boys ain't comin' back to this place?"

"For the moment," she said. Even though she was smiling, her voice sounded strained.

Ace turned back to Billy and Arturo, and grinned. "Well guys," he said. "Townsville's finally ours."

When Justine drove him and his friends to the Mayor's Manor, he looked around for a few moments, and whistled.

The place, simply put, was a mansion. It looked more like a hotel or fancy restaurant than somebody's house. The chandelier was a bit lame, but hey, if he was that rich he would've spent his money on stupid shit too just because he could.

"Damn, can you believe this, guys?" he grinned. "I feel like a Morbucks."

Justine looked around, unimpressed. "Hardly. That brainless oaf could barely afford to fly first class. Richard has a private jet in every major city in the country."

"Richard?" Ace turned toward her, and raised an eyebrow. "The way you talkin' it almost sounds like you knew the guy personally."

"Oh I did," she grinned. Her eyes grew dark. "Very personally. It's a shame things didn't work out between us. He served his purpose for a time, but between the baggage from his previous marriage, his ego, his brat from hell…" she sighed. "Let's just say, it wasn't meant to be."

The smile fell from Ace's face, and for the first time, he really looked at the blonde woman in front of him. "Who are you?"

She broke out into a grin, her perfectly white teeth shown in the light. "Oh, I think you know. Should I put on something more comfortable to jog your memory?"

Within a few seconds, Justine had taken her disguise off, revealing her all to familiar red lingerie and bald head.

"Sedusa," Arturo whispered under his breath.

"In the flesh," she grinned. "Oh, I can't tell you how much of a relief it is for it to all be out in the open. That wig itches like hell," she frowned.

"What the hell are you doin' here?!" Ace snapped. "You think you can just waltz back into our life as if you didn't use us and throw us away like trash?"

"Sedusa made Billy cry," Billy interjected.

"Now, is that anyway to talk to someone who just saved your asses?" she snapped. "If it wasn't for me, you'd be rotting away in jail. And not only are you free, but Townsville is yours."

"So what?" Ace crossed his arms. "You're doin' this to get on our good side again?"

Sedusa snorted. "Hardly," she looked down at her nails. "I'm only helping you because HIM asked me too, and he promised to return something very dear to me," she rubbed her head miserably. "Well, except for the business with Bellum. I would've done that for free."

At the mention of HIM, a chill ran through the room.

"So you want ya magic hair back and ya got beef with Bellum, big whoop," Ace said. "What does that have to do with us? We don't trust ya. I don't trust ya. And I don't see why I shouldn't tell all of Townsville who ya really are and throw your ass in jail."

"Oh now, that would be very stupid," Sedusa sauntered over to him and rested a red gloved hand onto Ace's shoulder. "Don't think that just because Townsville is yours on paper that you'll be able to actually keep it for more than a few days, tops." She walked over toward the couch in the living room and sprawled herself over it.

"Right now, Townsville despises you. It's only a matter of time before a particularly brave citizen decides to play hero and assassinates you, or organizes a lynch mob to take you out. Buttercup herself attempted it before you were even officially in office," she turned her bright green eyes straight toward Ace. "You need someone who can help bring the dear citizens of Townsville onto your side. And trust me, you can't do that on your own."

Ace gritted his teeth. "And how exactly do you suggest I do that?"

Sedusa grinned. "I'm glad you asked," she pulled out some papers and threw them on the coffee table. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

PPGGuy06: Haha well, as you can see Snake is kind of on his own at the moment...

GGG Fan: Thank you! Yeah, Ace's actions are starting to affect him, though probably not as much as they should (yet). Unfortunately for him, his problems still aren't over

Anon: Not quite yet, unfortunately for Snake. But they'll definitely be seeing each other in the future

Visitor: Aww thank you lol. But yeah, we still got a bit of a ways to go. But yeah, things aren't looking too great for the Professor...

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and still reading this story! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Feel free to let me know what you think :)