A/N: As I said, really random (and short) chapters, still modern day, mundane AU, and here's my next one…

"Caspian."

His name rung out in the silence of the room, and he kept his head down, studying his hands. They were still covered in blood, and his fingers hurt a little, but he didn't mind. The adrenaline had been so satisfying for a moment, so freeing, until it died off and he was just left with tiredness and indifference.

Now the handcuffs dug into his wrists, a bitter reminder of where he was.

The counsellor frowned, tapping her pen against the desk and shifting in her seat as she watched him. Did he make her nervous?

He hoped so.

"Caspian," she repeated, sounding exasperated at his lack of a response. "You realise how bad this is, don't you? Fighting with – no, attacking – another kid here? What were you thinking?"

She asked the question, as if he'd suddenly had a thought come to mind. As if it was that simple, when in reality, a million things raced through his mind, until he wasn't really thinking at all, and it was instinctual.

A sigh escaped her lips when he continued to ignore her, and she jotted down some notes, the pen sounding like it was scratching across the paper. He didn't bother to look over and read her notes. He was sure they were just riveting accounts of his terrible behaviour and his lack of respect for authority.

"You realise," she continued, her tone growing harder, "That you'll be sent to solitary confinement, after this?" She clasped her hands together on the desk in front of her. "Normally it would be a set period of time, like your last visit there. But this time, I want something else from you, before you can re-join the rest of your block. I think it will be good for you."

As if any of this was good for him. He'd been sent to a juvenile correctional facility – juvie, as they all called it – and he'd been there for a month already. It seemed stupid, so stupid to lump gang members together into the same block. Didn't they know anything? They were all stuck there until they completed their 'rehabilitation program,' apparently to help curb their bad behaviour, and to help with their future reintegration to society. Either that, or they turned eighteen and could be tried as an adult. Really, that couldn't come quickly enough. The program they'd set up sounded like one of the stupidest ideas he'd ever heard of, and he'd told them so, but it wasn't like they'd listen to someone like him.

The handcuffs rattled as he shifted to lean his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "I don't really care about your thoughts on what would be good for me," he drawled, slowly, just to infuriate her. "Considering you don't even know me."

He ignored her as she studied him closely. "Is this to do with your parents not visiting again?" she asked, causing his anger to rise. Of course his parents hadn't visited, and they'd never plan to, after he was arrested.

"It's got nothing to do with them," he spat, gritting his teeth. "They don't care about me, and I couldn't care less about them."

"It would have been nice for them to show up though, wouldn't it?" she pressed, leaning forward.

"No," he snapped. "I hate them, and if I never see them again, it would still be too soon." He took a deep breath, his silver eyes seething. "Listen, like I've tried to tell you before, I don't need your help or you digging around in my head. Got it?"

Finally backing off, she sighed again, leaning back in her chair. He supposed he was a rather hard kid to deal with.

He'd been in a gang for years, and he'd always been loyal. If he was told to steal, hurt, or do other things…he'd do it. He'd do anything for them. That was until one day when a robbery had gone wrong, and the police had been alerted. The others had decided to leave him behind so that they could get away in time. Better to sell him out, than themselves, obviously.

The funny thing was, he'd still never sold out their names or hideouts, even though he'd been asked on numerous occasions. As if he still had some sense of loyalty ingrained in him. Days had gone by, and he'd had some glimmer of hope, that maybe the gang would help him escape. That they'd realised their mistake, or it had all been some grand plan. But as the weeks dragged on, it was obvious that wasn't the case. Yet he still wouldn't break his silence about them.

"Caspian, I would be happy to release you again from solitary confinement, if you apologise to Xanthe," the counsellor stated. "He's having medical treatment at the moment, but I want you to think long and hard about your actions, and then I want you to apologise to him."

He looked over at her slowly, like she was crazy, and laughed. "If that's what you want, then I'm going to be in there for a long, long time."

It had been satisfying when his fist had connected with Xanthe's jaw. More than satisfying. It was like a release of tension and anger from the past month, and it felt nice to be in control of something. Then that made it hard to stop. Technically Xanthe had started it by taunting him; he had always known exactly what to say to get under his skin. Xanthe was a member of a rival gang – although Caspian had suspected he was a bit of a wimp, always running from a fight, or watching as his friends did all the fighting. It turned out he'd been right, and it had become less satisfying when he didn't fight back much, waiting for the guards, and calling out for help instead. It seemed he hadn't realised how close he'd become to pushing him off the edge.

"I hope you reconsider that in your stay there," the counsellor replied, rising and gesturing to some guards waiting at the door. "Please escort Caspian to solitary confinement."

They nodded, both grabbing his arms to pull him up from the chair, and drag him out of the room. Swearing under his breath at them, he held his head high as he was taken out of the hallway, and outside into the yard, as they led him to another building.

Members of other gangs called out insults as they saw him being taken away, a predatory glint in their eyes as they spat on him and called him and his gang names. However, he just laughed, his eyes glinting and hiding his true anger, as he memorised their faces in his mind so that he could get his revenge later.

He could take care of himself now, and he'd make sure they all knew it.