CELL

/ SEVENTEEN /

"Shhhh!"

Someone, somewhere, shushed him. Doing so was dangerous, but Ryan knew how loud he had shouted. There was no way They hadn't heard it and there were going to be repercussions, without a doubt. The person was putting themselves in danger, issuing that warning, however, it was a wasted effort. The door was already opening.

The girl? The girls? It was a fucking dream?

What the hell was wrong with him? Who was she to be invading his head even when he slept?

He didn't have time to ruminate, as the door to his cage was opening. He backed away from the sound of someone entering, though he could see nothing, of course. There wasn't even the spark of the requisite taser.

"Don't fight. You know it won't do any good. Just come with me."

"Jarvis?" Ryan asked as quietly as the other's voice had been.

Why were they whispering?

"Just come on. I'll let you walk or can drag you, your choice."

So, someone did actually have consideration for their prisoners. That was surprising. Perhaps they were not all like Bradley. She enjoyed what she was doing, that was clear. Maybe not all her staff felt the same.

He nodded, then realised Jarvis wouldn't be able to see.

"Sorry," he said before also realising Jarvis wouldn't know what he was apologising for. Fuck. Get it together! "I'll..."

"Walk, yeah, I saw you nod. It's fine. Keep the talking to a minimum."

He... what? How?

"How did y...?"

"Quiet. Don't you listen?"

"Sor..." Ryan did finish the word. The sharp jab in his ribs cut off the last couple of letters.

"One more word." The whisper had an acid edge to it now, that ate away at the patience evident at the beginning of the conversation. "I'm giving you a chance. One. Got it?"

Ryan nodded again, and didn't apologise this time. He knew Jarvis could see him.

He felt a hand close over his wrist and pull. He followed the guidance and bum shuffled across the floor. At the entrance to the cage, his wrist was released. He heard the movement of Jarvis turning to exit and didn't stop to think. If he had, he might not have kicked out as hard as he could. He might not have aimed his feet at an upward angle, taking into account the extreme height.

If he'd had time to think, he would have probably have followed Jarvis out of the cell, across the room and through the door. He would have taken his punishment.

Ryan didn't think. He acted.

Pushing his heels out and pulling his toes back, he rammed his feet into what he hoped was the middle of Jarvis' back. It wasn't entirely a kick for pain or debilitation, but rather one for shock and for opportunity. The jolt of impact and grunt from the man in front of him told him he was on target. Instantly, he charged forward. He expected Jarvis to be sprawled just past the door, and he was correct. It meant he was prepared for the obstacle, so only stumbled a little.

Jarvis was down, but not out. As Ryan scrambled away, Jarvis kicked out himself, making contact with the fleeing man's ankle. It was only a glancing blow, so had little effect other than spurring the ankle's owner on.

Ryan was out of reach in a second, running into the eternal night. He heard pained movement behind him and couldn't resist a smile. His blow had been more effective than expected. He couldn't believe what he was doing, and his stomach was churning as wildly as his heart was beating. There was no way to know where he was going or if there'd be other cells in his way. It didn't matter. If there were, he'd go around them. He was running blindly, but he wasn't the only one. Jarvis was...