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fredbassettTitle : Within These Walls, Chapter 11 of 30
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Stephen, Danny, Nick, Connor
Disclaimer : Not mine (except the OCs), no money made, don’t sue.
Word Count : 59,000 words in 30 chapters of approx. 1,500 – 2,500 words each
Spoilers : None
Warnings: Aftermath of rape.
Summary : Ending up in Dartmoor prison for refusing to recant their belief in evolution is only the start of the problems facing Nick, Stephen and Connor. And Sir James Lester soon ends up with other problems on his hands than just an over-crowded prison population.
A/N : For acknowledgements etc please see Part 1.
Stephen did his best to ignore the jeers and the cat calls directed at him as he walked back to the cell. The pain from his arse was harder to ignore. It was bloody obvious that Fraser had already spread the word of what had gone on and Stephen’s cheeks were hot with embarrassment.
“Just keep walking,” Quinn said quietly, pacing at his side like an unlikely guard dog. “Ignore them.”
Stephen just wished he’d heeded the man’s warnings and not ended up in this mess.
“Don’t worry, Hart,” yelled one of the men who’d been with Fraser in the showers. “You’re too old for Quinn, but your little mate had better watch out!”
“Nah, he’s way too old for Quinn.” A prisoner lounging against the wall threw his head back and laughed loudly. “Yours were half his age, weren’t they, Danny boy? Must have been a great job for you on Vice. Shame you couldn’t keep your dick to yourself.”
Stephen fought to keep a neutral face but inside his stomach was crawling like a sack full of ferrets.
“Don’t listen to them,” Quinn hissed. “They’re lying.”
Stephen concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. The heckling continued, following them all the way back to the cells. As he walked he could see Gordie Fraser lounging at ease in a chair by the far wall, watching their progress along the wing. The man raised one hand and waved to Stephen, a broad grin on his face. Stephen kept his eyes fixed on his goal as the cell door came steadily closer. Last night he’d never thought that the cramped cell would ever represent any sort of haven, but now he was just glad to get away from the stares and jeers of the other prisoners.
As Stephen stepped through the narrow doorway, Cutter jumped up off his bunk, his eyes anxious, his hand reaching out for Stephen’s arm. Unable to stop himself, Stephen flinched away from the contact.
“Sorry, sorry…” Cutter mumbled, look awkward. “We heard… are you…?”
Stephen held up a hand. “I’m OK, Cutter. It could have been worse, and it’s thanks to Quinn that it wasn’t.” But Stephen’s head was now whirling with the innuendo being bandied about by the men outside on the wing, and despite Quinn’s help and support, Stephen wasn’t sure what to believe or who to trust now, and it was clear from the looks that both Cutter and Connor were shooting their cell-mate that similar rumours had now reached them.
“I can explain,” Quinn said quickly. “I was set up.”
Despite their situation, Stephen felt a laugh bubbling up inside him: part-hysteria, part-disbelief. “We’re in prison. Isn’t that what we’re all meant to say?”
Quinn ran a hand through his ginger hair, making it stand up straight from his head. “I was a copper,” he said slowly, his eyes meeting Stephen’s steadily. “I did a stint in the Vice Squad, and vice is the right way to describe it. The majority of them were on the take one way or another. A blow-job without paying for it, a cut from a pimp to let the girls work a particular patch. You name it, it was going on. Yeah, sure, I’d broken the rules a few times – you show me the copper who hasn’t and I’ll show you a good liar – but not like that. Not trafficking in someone else’s misery. Most of them were just kids, too scared to say no if some bastard who should have been better than that wanted a freebie.”
“You told me you weren’t a nonce,” Stephen said, his voice quiet and level. Quinn had helped him; he didn’t want to believe what the men outside the cell were saying, but in a place like this, how was anyone meant to know the truth?
“And I’m not.” Quinn continued to meet Stephen’s eyes. “I wouldn’t play ball with their little games, so they planted kiddie porn on my computer and then sent a tip off to my guv’nor. He wasn’t too keen on me, either, so he added a few bits of his own. End result: the trial was a sham and I end up banged up for seven years. They used to put coppers who ended up in the nick on seg for their own safety, but not now. The prisons are too crowded to bother with segregation, so I had to take my chances with everyone else. I was lucky ending up with you three. Albany wasn’t quite so nice.”
“And so someone decided to give you a taste of your own medicine, or so they thought.”
Quinn nodded. He hesitated, then said, “You can believe me or not, Hart, but I’m telling you the truth, just like I did this morning. I’m no nonce and I was set up.”
The man’s blue eyes were steady, his craggy face studiously expressionless, but below the surface he could see a revealing mixture of pain and resentment simmering in a stew of frustration. Stephen hadn’t doubted the sincerity of Quinn’s revelation earlier that morning and, to his surprise, he didn’t doubt him now, either. Quinn had put himself at risk coming to Stephen’s aid, so who was he going to believe? A bunch of men who thought it was funny that he’d been forced to take it up the arse from Gordie Fraser or the man who’d done his best to help him?
No contest, really.
Stephen put his hand out to Quinn. “I believe you.”
The look in Quinn’s eyes was one that Stephen wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Despite the man’s tough exterior, he’d obviously become used to being treated with suspicion, one of the lowest of the low in the prison system, but despite that he’d still stuck his neck out for someone he barely knew.
Quinn gripped Stephen’s hand firmly. “Thanks, Hart.”
Stephen dredged up a smile from somewhere, despite the fact that his head was pounding, his arse felt like someone had shoved a flagpole up it sideways and if he didn’t get horizontal soon, he’d probably fall down. “Call me Stephen, if you like.”
Quinn flashed him a cheerful grin that failed to give the lie to the pain clouding his eyes. “Thanks. My friends usually still call me Quinn, but I’ll answer to Danny.”
Cutter and Connor had been watching the exchange closely. Connor’s nervousness still lurked below the surface, but the belligerent expression had faded from Cutter’s face, leaving behind the sort of embarrassed unease that marked him whenever emotions threatened to intrude where they weren’t wanted. Stephen had seen the same look once when one of his third year students had dissolved into tears during a meeting to discuss her dissertation and admitted that her boyfriend had just walked out on her. Cutter had looked horrified, failed to find a clean handkerchief and scuttled off, leaving Stephen to provide a shoulder to cry on.
But a cell this size didn’t come complete with hiding places, so they were just going to have to deal with this one as best they could.
“I’m fine, Cutter,” Stephen said. “My pride’s hurt and I feel like a fucking idiot, but I’ll get over it.” Stephen knew that if Cutter offered sympathy, he was likely to break down, and that wasn’t something Stephen was prepared to do, not with Fraser and his cronies in earshot.
“Suspect your arse hurts, too,” Quinn commented, with a rueful grin. “I know mine did.”
Stephen rolled his eyes. “Do me a favour, Quinn, don’t spoil my tough-guy act.”
Grabbing the edge of the top bunk, Stephen hauled himself up, doing his best to suppress a groan at the pain that bloomed throughout his body. He sprawled out on his stomach, his face pillowed on his arms, trying to ignore the hollow feeling inside. An hour later, still lying there, he started to shake. Not long after that, tears started to come as well, but if any of his companions were aware of what was happening, they respected what little was left of his privacy and simply left him alone.
It was all anyone could do for him.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Stephen, Danny, Nick, Connor
Disclaimer : Not mine (except the OCs), no money made, don’t sue.
Word Count : 59,000 words in 30 chapters of approx. 1,500 – 2,500 words each
Spoilers : None
Warnings: Aftermath of rape.
Summary : Ending up in Dartmoor prison for refusing to recant their belief in evolution is only the start of the problems facing Nick, Stephen and Connor. And Sir James Lester soon ends up with other problems on his hands than just an over-crowded prison population.
A/N : For acknowledgements etc please see Part 1.
Stephen did his best to ignore the jeers and the cat calls directed at him as he walked back to the cell. The pain from his arse was harder to ignore. It was bloody obvious that Fraser had already spread the word of what had gone on and Stephen’s cheeks were hot with embarrassment.
“Just keep walking,” Quinn said quietly, pacing at his side like an unlikely guard dog. “Ignore them.”
Stephen just wished he’d heeded the man’s warnings and not ended up in this mess.
“Don’t worry, Hart,” yelled one of the men who’d been with Fraser in the showers. “You’re too old for Quinn, but your little mate had better watch out!”
“Nah, he’s way too old for Quinn.” A prisoner lounging against the wall threw his head back and laughed loudly. “Yours were half his age, weren’t they, Danny boy? Must have been a great job for you on Vice. Shame you couldn’t keep your dick to yourself.”
Stephen fought to keep a neutral face but inside his stomach was crawling like a sack full of ferrets.
“Don’t listen to them,” Quinn hissed. “They’re lying.”
Stephen concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. The heckling continued, following them all the way back to the cells. As he walked he could see Gordie Fraser lounging at ease in a chair by the far wall, watching their progress along the wing. The man raised one hand and waved to Stephen, a broad grin on his face. Stephen kept his eyes fixed on his goal as the cell door came steadily closer. Last night he’d never thought that the cramped cell would ever represent any sort of haven, but now he was just glad to get away from the stares and jeers of the other prisoners.
As Stephen stepped through the narrow doorway, Cutter jumped up off his bunk, his eyes anxious, his hand reaching out for Stephen’s arm. Unable to stop himself, Stephen flinched away from the contact.
“Sorry, sorry…” Cutter mumbled, look awkward. “We heard… are you…?”
Stephen held up a hand. “I’m OK, Cutter. It could have been worse, and it’s thanks to Quinn that it wasn’t.” But Stephen’s head was now whirling with the innuendo being bandied about by the men outside on the wing, and despite Quinn’s help and support, Stephen wasn’t sure what to believe or who to trust now, and it was clear from the looks that both Cutter and Connor were shooting their cell-mate that similar rumours had now reached them.
“I can explain,” Quinn said quickly. “I was set up.”
Despite their situation, Stephen felt a laugh bubbling up inside him: part-hysteria, part-disbelief. “We’re in prison. Isn’t that what we’re all meant to say?”
Quinn ran a hand through his ginger hair, making it stand up straight from his head. “I was a copper,” he said slowly, his eyes meeting Stephen’s steadily. “I did a stint in the Vice Squad, and vice is the right way to describe it. The majority of them were on the take one way or another. A blow-job without paying for it, a cut from a pimp to let the girls work a particular patch. You name it, it was going on. Yeah, sure, I’d broken the rules a few times – you show me the copper who hasn’t and I’ll show you a good liar – but not like that. Not trafficking in someone else’s misery. Most of them were just kids, too scared to say no if some bastard who should have been better than that wanted a freebie.”
“You told me you weren’t a nonce,” Stephen said, his voice quiet and level. Quinn had helped him; he didn’t want to believe what the men outside the cell were saying, but in a place like this, how was anyone meant to know the truth?
“And I’m not.” Quinn continued to meet Stephen’s eyes. “I wouldn’t play ball with their little games, so they planted kiddie porn on my computer and then sent a tip off to my guv’nor. He wasn’t too keen on me, either, so he added a few bits of his own. End result: the trial was a sham and I end up banged up for seven years. They used to put coppers who ended up in the nick on seg for their own safety, but not now. The prisons are too crowded to bother with segregation, so I had to take my chances with everyone else. I was lucky ending up with you three. Albany wasn’t quite so nice.”
“And so someone decided to give you a taste of your own medicine, or so they thought.”
Quinn nodded. He hesitated, then said, “You can believe me or not, Hart, but I’m telling you the truth, just like I did this morning. I’m no nonce and I was set up.”
The man’s blue eyes were steady, his craggy face studiously expressionless, but below the surface he could see a revealing mixture of pain and resentment simmering in a stew of frustration. Stephen hadn’t doubted the sincerity of Quinn’s revelation earlier that morning and, to his surprise, he didn’t doubt him now, either. Quinn had put himself at risk coming to Stephen’s aid, so who was he going to believe? A bunch of men who thought it was funny that he’d been forced to take it up the arse from Gordie Fraser or the man who’d done his best to help him?
No contest, really.
Stephen put his hand out to Quinn. “I believe you.”
The look in Quinn’s eyes was one that Stephen wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Despite the man’s tough exterior, he’d obviously become used to being treated with suspicion, one of the lowest of the low in the prison system, but despite that he’d still stuck his neck out for someone he barely knew.
Quinn gripped Stephen’s hand firmly. “Thanks, Hart.”
Stephen dredged up a smile from somewhere, despite the fact that his head was pounding, his arse felt like someone had shoved a flagpole up it sideways and if he didn’t get horizontal soon, he’d probably fall down. “Call me Stephen, if you like.”
Quinn flashed him a cheerful grin that failed to give the lie to the pain clouding his eyes. “Thanks. My friends usually still call me Quinn, but I’ll answer to Danny.”
Cutter and Connor had been watching the exchange closely. Connor’s nervousness still lurked below the surface, but the belligerent expression had faded from Cutter’s face, leaving behind the sort of embarrassed unease that marked him whenever emotions threatened to intrude where they weren’t wanted. Stephen had seen the same look once when one of his third year students had dissolved into tears during a meeting to discuss her dissertation and admitted that her boyfriend had just walked out on her. Cutter had looked horrified, failed to find a clean handkerchief and scuttled off, leaving Stephen to provide a shoulder to cry on.
But a cell this size didn’t come complete with hiding places, so they were just going to have to deal with this one as best they could.
“I’m fine, Cutter,” Stephen said. “My pride’s hurt and I feel like a fucking idiot, but I’ll get over it.” Stephen knew that if Cutter offered sympathy, he was likely to break down, and that wasn’t something Stephen was prepared to do, not with Fraser and his cronies in earshot.
“Suspect your arse hurts, too,” Quinn commented, with a rueful grin. “I know mine did.”
Stephen rolled his eyes. “Do me a favour, Quinn, don’t spoil my tough-guy act.”
Grabbing the edge of the top bunk, Stephen hauled himself up, doing his best to suppress a groan at the pain that bloomed throughout his body. He sprawled out on his stomach, his face pillowed on his arms, trying to ignore the hollow feeling inside. An hour later, still lying there, he started to shake. Not long after that, tears started to come as well, but if any of his companions were aware of what was happening, they respected what little was left of his privacy and simply left him alone.
It was all anyone could do for him.
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no subject
Date: 2014-04-26 04:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-05-03 02:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-26 04:39 pm (UTC)**huggles all four boys carefully**
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Date: 2014-04-26 09:10 pm (UTC)Poor Stephen. Am saying that a lot. :( That said, if one of them had to get raped Stephen's probably the one who'll deal with it best. And now it becomes clear that Danny needs his new cellmates as much as they need him.
At least Cutter and Connor didn't say/do anything well-meaning but stupid as I was afraid they would.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-03 02:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-27 06:16 am (UTC)Lovely description!
Poor Danny, being set up like that, and good for Stephen, accepting the truth in spite of the experience he'd just been through.
his arse felt like someone had shoved a flagpole up it sideways and if he didn’t get horizontal soon, he’d probably fall down.
Um, ouch?
Cutter’s face, leaving behind the sort of embarrassed unease that marked him whenever emotions threatened to intrude where they weren’t wanted.
LOL! Nice use of humour to diffuse the tension a bit.
*sniffles* on Stephen's behalf at the ending.
Still an amazing fic. Loving it!
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Date: 2014-05-04 06:38 pm (UTC)