Compared to Ian, Rick was unhinged, the hostility tightening his muscles and twisting his lips really grinding in the difference. While Ian was predatory and had personal space issues, he wasn't cruel. At the most, he was irritating and scared the crap out of him, but Rick instilled in him a different fear. The kind that froze prey in its tracks for self-preservation and sank his stomach with a rock that had him so sick that he couldn't move. Something depraved stood before them, disassociated from any conscience and ravenous for blood.

The front door opened and slammed on its hinges just as hard as when Rick had come in, and if Nathan could move an inch, he'd tuck himself behind Ian's back. There were two more people living at LC Penitentiary and Nathan was not ready to meet them, less so when cold onyx eyes pinned Rick and Maggie before striding forward with purpose.

"You left this on the porch," Conny said in a low growl that warped his expression with rage that Nathan could have never imagined the man had when they'd played on the basketball court.

Conny pushed Maggie to the wall with one hand, brought an empty beer bottle up in the other, and without hesitation, cracked it over the side of Rick's head. Unlike in the movies, it didn't shatter. The blow was solid, and Rick fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Red stained the carpet, and flashes of Randy falling down the stairs took over his vision.

Nathan brought trembling hands up to his head to try and block them out, but all he could see was blood seeping from the boy's body, crawling into his white shirt and blossoming on contact with the fabric. His breaths came in quick gasps and the room spun, but he couldn't stop any of it. In the background, more than one person said his name, but the voices were so muffled that it sounded more like grotesque monsters crying out for his soul.

One voice he knew from earlier that day, with soft tones and a gentleness only a father could have, and the other ran over him so close and powerfully that it gave him tremors. Neither fully penetrated, but they at least shook him from his living nightmare and dropped him back into the living room. All he wanted to do when he landed was disappear, but there wasn't anywhere to go with everyone gathered at the junction to the kitchen, living room, and stairs.

Arms slipped under his knees and behind his back, but he was in no condition to struggle as someone lifted him from the couch. From the faint smell of smoke and the sting of his cologne, Nathan knew it was Ian, but he couldn't meet his eyes. Holding his head was the only thing keeping the racing thoughts buried.

"Maggie, I'm sorry. I didn't know," Conny whispered behind him, but Nathan couldn't respond as his voice faded, replaced by the creak of stairs.

It wasn't long before he sank onto something soft, and he shivered before a blanket fell over him. Something touched his head, and he flinched back, letting out a whimper that sounded like it was from someone else's mouth. Whatever had touched him retreated, but not long after, fingers threaded through his hair. They had him stiffening until the motion repeated without harming him, and the fear faded as his body gave up the fight.

It had been a long time since someone had tried to soothe him, and he closed his eyes and let the tears slip out. No one had cared about him while he was in jail, and the guards had treated him like he didn't deserve any sympathy. He didn't want to break down like this, to be weak, but his heart beat in his chest just like everyone else's.

"Nathan, you're safe up here." Ian's voice was barely audible.

At some point, Nathan's hands had started clutching his arms unbidden, and he couldn't stop shaking. Despite willing it, he just wasn't calming down.

Why couldn't he respond?

Speak.

Move.

Anything.

"It's all right. Just get some sleep." The hand on his head disappeared, and it left him cold and frightened. He didn't know why. It wasn't like he felt safe around Ian, but he'd also been so starved of touch lately that it didn't matter who it was.

Tucking his face into a pillow, he inhaled the flowery scent of dryer sheets, and it only renewed his tears. It didn't smell like home, like the citrus detergent his mother always used. Over time, the scent faded to just the hint of lemon that lingered from the wash on everything. Before all this, he'd never thought about how his room smelled, but it didn't smell like this. This wasn't his home, and he was stuck here.

Something heavy pressed against him, and he jerked back, snapping his eyes open to a comforter as Ian tucked it around him. For just a moment, Nathan met his eyes, and Ian let go of the blanket to take a few quick steps back.

"I won't hurt you," Ian said quietly, backing up further.

Tears flooded Nathan's eyes, and he turned away and wrapped the blankets tighter around him. No matter how hard he tried to wash it away with other sensations, the look in Conny's dark eyes kept returning. There had been nothing left of the man who'd laughed with him on the court. There had been nothing but malice. Which side of him was real?

A shiver ran down his neck with the touch of Ian's hand against his hair again. The slow trail of it warmed him, and he breathed slowly through his mouth to keep from passing out. Staring at the wall, he counted his breaths as he followed the path of Ian's fingers over his hair in his mind.

The touch was gentle, so unlike how he'd been that morning. Why was everyone here a flip of a coin? And why was Ian caring for him? Shouldn't he be ridiculing him, or telling him to deal with it? This was a prison where violence was common place, and he couldn't even function from seeing it. If someone attacked him, would he just crumble to nothing?

"Do you think I'm weak?" Nathan whispered into the wall, and Ian's hand stopped.

"Nathan, you're not weak, just out of place. It's all right to be frightened in a strange place with no one to turn to for safety. You're not the only one." Ian's last sentence piqued Nathan's interest, and he turned on the bed to find Ian sitting on the floor.

"What do you mean?" Nathan croaked, pulling the blankets with him like they could protect him from anything.

"No one likes to be torn away from what's normal," Ian said with a sigh, tucking his hands into his lap, likely so Nathan wouldn't worry about them. "When we first got here and Maggie let us out of our cells, Tanner hid himself in a corner. You couldn't pry him off that couch even if the house was on fire. It was a little shocking seeing a man that big huddle in fear."

"You're lying to make me feel better." Nathan lowered his eyebrows in frustration.

"I promise I'm not." Ian's chuckle was pleasant, and it eased the tension out of his last stubborn muscles. "Mags had just pulled him away from the electric chair, and he expected everything under him to give way at any moment. It took time, like I'm sure it will with you. Each and every one of us had to adjust to being here, and we all found different ways. You just have to find yours."

"How do you cope?" Nathan asked with sincerity, but Ian just barked a laugh at him.

"I smoke." Ian flashed his teeth in a wide smile. "Really, I didn't at all before prison, just like Rick wasn't a blackout drunk. Some of us adjust poorly, and I hope you find something that isn't a vice."

"Me too. I don't like cigarettes." Nathan's eyebrows crunched together, and Ian's smile fell.

"I won't smoke in the room while we're sharing it. Perhaps fixing up yours so you have a place to go will help you get a feel for the pen that isn't frightening," Ian offered, and Nathan nodded against his pillow. "It's late anyway, so try and get some sleep. I'll be in the corner if you want some lonely gay guy to keep you company."

A smile tilted Nathan's lips, but it fell as Ian flopped on his bed and reached to the shelf for a book to read. There were no blankets on it, and Nathan looked at the one wrapped around himself guiltily.

"Do you want it back?" Nathan asked across the room, and Ian lifted his eyes from the bookmark he'd pulled out. "The blanket," Nathan specified as Ian tried to make sense of his words.

"Oh. No. Consider it payback." With a smug smile, Ian relaxed against his pillows.

"What are you paying me back for?"

"Not me. It's you paying me back for how I tortured you today. I'll freeze as penance."

"You don't have to." Nathan sat up, unwrapping himself, but before he got far, Ian jumped up and pulled the blanket back around his neck. Nathan stiffened from how quickly he'd moved and how close he was to his face.

"Keep the blanket," Ian repeated, standing up and retreating back to his bed just as swiftly as he'd gotten up. "You're so skinny that you'll freeze to death much faster than I will. It's fall, and it gets down to forty some nights."

Nathan hesitated, and Ian narrowed his eyes.

"If you give the blanket back, I will get off this bed, hop into yours, and keep you warm with my body." Ian's hissed the words, and Nathan shifted until his back was against the wall. A cackle from Ian chased his fear, but Nathan calmed as Ian dimmed the lights and relaxed under a desk lamp to read.

Awkwardly, the same man who'd terrified him this morning had spent most of the day with him in peace, and had even calmed him when he'd been on the brink of losing it. As his consciousness faded, he wondered what darkness lurked under the gentle hands of someone who was used to consoling others.

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Word Count: 1750