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Beta'd by Erin.

Go Straight to Hell, Boy - part 1/17

by Ralu

Time...timing. Deciding your entire life in one split second turned into eternity. Right in front of you like an endless sea - still, breathless, like an old photograph you can't even remember having taken, forever spinning in circles...that's what time is in Oz until you eventually die. Kaput.

And, fuck! you're still young, Tobias, it's gonna be a long time until you finally exit the scene forever! Unless somebody does you a favor, first. *Not with my fucking luck!*

And the thing, the THING that really gets Toby down more than anything is the fact that he put *himself* - eyes wide open - back in Oz. He should have known better, but it was like he was blinded or something... That *trust* (you know - the T-word!), that fucking feeling of believing in him.

He never thought, not for a second, that he *knew* Keller, but that didn't matter because he actually felt like the man cared about him more than anybody else, and that would only make Chris want for Toby to be happy. And HAPPY is on the outside. With his kids. His life. Or what's left of it.

Viewing Chris' actions and pleas through his own pattern of behavior, through his own mindset, thinking and believing that Chris wouldn't fuck him over like that, just because Toby himself wouldn't have done it to him, if the situation would have been the other way around...

Thus, ignoring the very first thing he should have known (and never have forgotten) about the whole fucking saga: Keller is *not* like him; he is not like Keller.

They're different...and that's what Beecher forgot long enough to land his ass back in Oz. And even if this makes the shit he is in right now his own doing, his fault; he cannot, will not forgive or forget. 'Cause he trusted him. And he took that trust and used it, just like he uses everything, and all that they had between them meant absolutely nothing for Keller in that particular moment, walked all over it, like it was utterly useless, unimportant. All that intimacy, wasted. All that Beecher cherished the most. Thrown in the trash.

So Keller can go and pretty much fuck himself from now on. It was over, couldn't be any other way.

All that tenderness, that soft spot in Beecher, had been broken into pieces, dissolved, leaving behind only that steel core Beecher always had inside, the one that had helped him survive in Oz the first time - smooth, untouched, untouchable.

A cold, emotionless, almost mechanical Beecher more ready than ever to make it out of Oz, like setting himself one all consumming goal that he would reach, one way or the other. And he's not gonna stop at anything.


Sister Pete's office:

"You know, Schillinger is going to be moving back to Em City. Tim and I decided that, given the fact that he and Tobias have come to some kind of truce... They have both promised to avoid each other. How do you feel about that, Chris?"

"What am I *supposed* to feel about that, sister?..."

The man standing across Peter Marie seemed unbelievably tired and broken, like a truck had run him over or something. His face kept an empty expression, but she could see the tension behind those dark eyes. Keller was pissed, but something in his usual attitude seemed to have disappeared, like it had gradually poured out of his body... Pete couldn't quite put her finger on it, though. Still, that was one of his usual bored-annoyed *don't-wanna-tell-you-don't-wanna-think-about-it* standard answers.

Like he just wanted to get the fuck out of there.

"How is Bonnie feeling?" Pete asked, trying to get some kind of reaction across the desk, who was rubbing his face with his palms - like trying to scrub something off - hard.

"Listen sister, this is..."-- a beat, slowly breathing out, like surrendering-- "she's not well...she's not well at all. Hurts".

The word, so quiet, it seemed unsaid. His hands, covering his face completely.

And a moment later, the whole thing was over. Time had ran out on both of them, leaving Pete trying to ignore that odd picture of what did not look like Christopher Keller at all, and Keller himself to just...walk away. Go back to the wonderful surroundings of Em City and its wonderful, wonderful people. The people he's gonna have to see every fucking day for the rest of his life. Every motherfucking second.


Three bright and shiny days later, Vernon Schillinger, granddaddy of all that's pure and white and sparkling (you know, like your *teeth*, mint-fresh, all clean and...sharp, sweetpea!) puts his stuff on the top bunk in a pod in Em City, still wondering what the fuck was going through McManus' head to make him finally put him back in his golden cage (where he belonged in the first place). Thank God, no nigger for a pod mate, just some stupid, mean, ugly-looking biker...he can live with that.

Turns around, looking at the crowd gathered casually in front of the TV, his cold blue eyes immediately spotting his favorite plaything, Tobias Beecher. His blonde head, his tense shoulders, like the fuck somehow knows he's being watched...by Vern, of all people.

They're supposed to ignore each other, that was the main condition for him to get back to Em City. He can do that, 'cause he doesn't wanna screw up and go back to Gen Pop, that rat infested shithole nobody would ever want to end up in...and he can do that cause he's got Discipline. Self-control.

*So fucking stop staring at him, then!...*

Instinctively, he looks around after his second favorite man, *Chris-to-pher*...and he's nowhere to be seen...nowhere near Beecher, that's for sure. And that could work to his advantage, if he is to actually give it a thought.

(But for now, caution is his number one pal.)

Where the fuck is that slut, anyway? Looks (as much as he can, from where he is) inside the other pods, and--Oh! there you are!

Lying down in his bunk...sleeping?! That's fucking abnormal, in the middle of the day!

(But that bitch was always lazy.)

Wait, he's moving...he ain't asleep, no, he's just lying there!...

Something resembling a smile stretches across Vern's face while his almost-gone eyebrows raise dismissively: the bitch's in...*pain*.

Oh, whatever...

Leaving his pod, Vern notices pretty much nothing has changed in McManus' little house of cards since the last time he'd been in it.

People (the ones that matter) still giving him proper respect (apparently), the others (niggers, spics, Sicilians - take your fucking pick!) and that shithead O'Reily...eyefucking him, just like he's eyefucking them back.

And Beecher, completely *oblivious*, like the man who raped him and terrorized his family wasn't even in the room! Okay, if that's the way we gotta play this...so be it.

I can do it, let us see if you've learned anything about self-control, already.

(Hell, you've managed to get yourself back in here...you don't have that much self control, Tobias.)

But the man doesn't even look up, eyes locked on the TV screen, headphones on, not giving a shit about anything and anybody. Locked inside himself.

And Keller, Vern finds himself realizing, is still nowhere in sight.

A whole day passes, things nice and cosy, then lights out, and Schillinger lays down in his bunk, kind of pleased, already sleepy, hoping the ugly fuck on the other bunk's not gonna snore, (or he's gonna have to suffocate him) when something hits him, making his body raise almost automatically, eyes locked on Keller's pod, all light and shadows, Keller's body still: The fuck hasn't come out of his fucking pod all damn day!

---end of part 1/17---
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