Off To See The Wizard            [Home | Quicksearch | Search Engine |
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 Many thanks to my fab beta pixelarious.
  
  Off To See The Wizard by sistersleep	

 Still in his first week in the Land of Oz, Ryan continued ignoring his
bunkmate. Barely even registered his face after that first day. Looked
only long enough to learn what he had needed to know. Guy was nothing.
Some scumbag that knew enough to keep his head down, didn't even snore. An
old hand like Ryan. He knew to stay out of the fucking way. He posed no
danger. Lasted this long, though. No use trying to manipulate him. Ryan
wouldn't be here for long, anyway. Ryan wasn't antagonizing him though. A
connection here couldn't hurt once he was elsewhere. Never hurt to keep
your hand in. He threaded his arms through the bars, resting against them
as he looked out upon the cellblock. The smooth press of metal against his
skin was coldly familiar. 

 Fucking cellblock was familiar, too. Like a second home, worse than the
one he'd fled with Cyril once they'd started trading tits and spilled
blood for enough cash to dig their own little hellhole away from their
Pops. Faces similar to those on the streets filled this place. Trapped in
between these grey halls now just the same as they were trapped in the
life outside. Stupid fucking prison issue clothes that made them all look
like wayward mechanics, trying to make them stand out from the rest of
humanity and blend together at the same time. All tucked snug in their
beds with bitter dreams at the moment.

 Same old smells, too. Toilets. Sweat and stone and metal. Blood buried
deep underneath it all. Ryan tuned out the accompanying sounds in disgust.
Grunts, the low slam of body to body, and muffled crying. What being caged
with animals always sounded like.

 Ryan avoided his thin cold cot for the landscape of his mind, instead of
curling up in resignation or pursuing some after hours release like
everyone else. Thought better standing up, in this case. It motivated him
to move, speeding along his plans to get out of here. 

 Someplace with a slightly better view.

 He knew better than to try some half-assed escape plan. His only escape
plan was long term. Keep the blood off his hands and the shit out of his
particular fan, until he had served enough of his time to smooth-talk a
parole board. He'd be trapped in the particular hellhole of Oswald for
another decade. One of many stays Ryan had made in the prison system of
his fine state. They all looked the same, no matter how the layout
changed. Different paint, different uniforms, different walls. Didn't
matter. Same old hotel, just a longer checkout time.

 But Oz, Oz had a little something special. Or so he'd heard. Some crazy
little idealist tucked away, trying out a new kind of punishment and
reform. Good news for Ryan.

 Somewhere, along the piss-yellow brick road, there was an Emerald City. A
place with more amenities. Privileges. Looked fucking good on your sheet
to a parole board, too. Ryan wasn't a perfect handpicked candidate. He'd
been thrown in with the anonymous scum right from the start. Guess the
bastard in charge hadn't seen his...potential.

 Ryan would change that. He would get there anyway. He knew it, even as he
watched the guard patrol the shitty little cellblock he was currently
housed in.

 "Lights out! That means you!" 

 Ryan felt the rattling vibration in his teeth, down to his bones, as the
Hack's billy club clanged against the bars, bare inches from his arm.
Ryan's nerves stayed steel.

 Without a single betraying twitch at the jolt, Ryan smirked and slowly
backed off. Like he'd been planning on bunking down for the night right
then anyway. Couldn't look like a pussy, but wouldn't do to antagonize a
Hack at this juncture either. Ryan balanced it perfectly. 

 He stretched before climbing into bed, throwing off his shirt and shaking
off the stiff chill from the bars. Ryan curled up under sheets, closing
his eyes. Still able to see all he needed to see.

 The path to Emcity, all the bricks along the way.

 All roads intertwined in this life, making his goals that much easier and
harder at the same time. Everything connected. If you knew how to spot the
junctures, which thread crossed which, where each tug would stress,
strain, and unravel, knew how to finesse it all...it was yours to dictate
the pattern. If you didn't know what you were doing, couldn't see all the
threads, were clumsy or slow -- then you were fucking screwed. Fuckers who
were blind or dumb just ended up ensnarled. 

 Not him. He saw what he needed to see. Had more finesse than ten of these
fuckers put together. 

 For Ryan, even Emerald city was more than just a destination. His hand
slid over his chest under the blanket, subconsciously searching even as he
settled in, grazing a soft long pucker of scar tissue with his fingertips.
Didn't need to see it to find it.

 Here, in the dark, he was back there again. Same cold, same scents
blending together from the hints in the air. Could almost feel the weight
of his old gun tucked away against his body. Phantoms. The smell of
gunmetal and burning atmosphere. Heavy taste of blood in his mouth.
Distant memory of that fucking sharp shock ripping through him.

 Ortolani. Wop who'd made this mark on Ryan's skin, and earned him a
shorter stay down the road when he'd given the cocksucker up. He was right
there smack dab in the middle of Ryan's soon-to-be new home now. Probably
planning his own revenge. 

 Everything connected. It was all in how you worked it.

 Ryan was faster than Dino. Better. Wop didn't stand a chance.

 He'd leave a nice hole in that new unit for Ryan to slip right into.

 **

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