[ a/n: if you are not crying along with that gif, you are not human ]

NANCY SIDLED UP ALONGSIDE DAMIAN as they were headed back to the room they were in previously. "I want you to do something for me," She whispered into his ear, and he turned to look at her quizzically. It was then that she realized just how sexual that could sound.

"Enlighten me," Damian whispered back with a wink and a sly smirk.

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Once we get to the room, I'm going to start up a conversation, and you're going to psychoanalyze everyone's response."

"Who said I was going to do that?" He teased and she gave him her best evil eye. "Fine."

"Thanks," Nancy stood on her tiptoes to pat him on his head. "There's a good boy!" She cooed while he swatted at her hand.

"Stop it!" He whined. "How dare you take advantage of a very wounded boy like that!"

Nancy stopped, processing what he just said. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

"Nancy, it's okay, I was just kidding with you."

"No, you obviously weren't! I mean, look at you! You're still limping, your face is swollen to, like, the size of of a dinosaur egg, or - or something-"

"I think I'll go with the 'or something'." Damian cut in.

"-and you're super stiff from those burns and when I-" Nancy was beginning to sound frantic, so she was a little thankful when he decided to interrupt.

"I'm glad you've decided to take inventory of my injuries in your free time, but further listing won't be necessary."

"Okay," She agreed. "I was running out of things to say, anyway."

"Nancy, you wound me! Internally!"

"Deal with it," Nancy said, wishing she had a pair of shades that she could rip off and throw to the ground. Although, maybe later in the day she would. She couldn't believe that her parents had actually got the message and were on their way. Hopefully they would make it in time.

She and Damian were shoved into their respective cells, with the other three in the ones across from them. Then the outer door was slammed, and the five of them were left to their own devices.

"So..." Nancy started. "I figured since we're in our last few hours alive, we might as well share our stories with each other. Anyone want to go first?" She looked to Damian for help, who nodded encouragingly.

"Ladies first." He grinned.

"I guess I'll go then," Nancy obliged. "My name is Nancy Michelle Swan and I'm sixteen years old. I used to live in Maryland but we moved here when I was six. Um... my mom and dad are dentists, just in case you were wondering why my teeth were so white," Nancy wasn't sure what else to say, and Damian snickered at her nervousness, which wasn't exactly helping. "And my sister is out to ruin my life. Well, you've met her so you should know. Other than that, my life is pretty boring - I haven't really committed any crimes or anything, I'm not quite sure if I'm even supposed to be here. I mean, a normal day in the life of Nancy is get up, go to school, come home, do my homework, go to soccer practice, and... yeah. That's pretty much it. No tragic events, unless you count my cat dying last year."

"I'd say your life was tragically normal." Damian remarked.

"Let's see you top it then," Nancy challenged, and suddenly his expression went from goofy to dead serious in what seemed like the blink of an eye.

"Well, I'll start out you did, but then it'll take a turn for the worse," Damian promised solemnly, and proceeded to tell the rough sequence of events that were his life. "I'm Damian Murphy Pullman and I'm eighteen years old. When I was three years old, my mother committed suicide right in front of me. I-I didn't know what was going on so I couldn't stop her. She left me with my father, who, um, physically abused me... pretty bad. At one point, I had to go to the hospital because of it. And I had to lie, and say that I had fallen off the swing, not that he had..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. " Anyway, er, he used to do it to my mother, too. That's why she took her life.

"By the time I was five, I had decided that I wanted out. So I made plans to run away. The day that I had finally worked up enough courage to follow through with everything, he told me that I-I would never amount to anything. That I was nobody, and that's all I'll ever be," He faltered to a stop, sucking in a deep breath. Nancy scrambled over, grabbing his hand - and he squeezed it so hard she thought it would fall off.

She looked into his eyes and saw tears that were threatening to spill over. She could tell this was the first time he had ever told anyone this story. "You don't have to continue if it's too much," Nancy offered up, but he shook his head and continued.

"I've based my entire life off of that statement. Everything I've ever done - every little thing - was an attempt to prove him wrong. Eventually I did end up making a break for it, but I stuck around a bit longer to show him what I was worth. He never took it back, though. I was on the run for about a week before I was caught and thrown into a foster care system when I refused to go back home. Ever since then, I worked towards being emancipated. When I got that, I moved here so I could focus on my studies, and got into Stanford. I was supposed to graduate as Valedictorian. It looked like I was going to have a happy ending, until, well, this." Damian finished. "Who's up next?" There was a long silence while everyone took in his story.

 "I volunteer as tribute," Drew stepped up. "Okay, so, I'm Andrew Stephen Benedict, and I'm sixteen years old. I've lived here my whole life, and apparently everything was normal until I was ten and my parents and I got into a car crash. They didn't make it, but by some miracle I did - although I can't remember anything that happened before then. So after that I was sent off to live with my paternal grandparents on the other side of town. And by then, so much of my life was missing - I wanted to find the pieces. When I was eleven, I decided to dedicate my life to being a detective. I wanted to help others in those areas that I couldn't help myself. And I kind of just went from there." Nancy was beginning to feel incredibly lame as she realized how hard everyone else had it.

"How convenient. Of course he doesn't remember anything," Damian muttered next to her. "Seems to me like he's hiding something."

Before Nancy could respond, Jess spoke up, "I'll go next," she offered. "I'm Jessica Marie Phillips and I'm seventeen years old. If you want to know the semi-sob version of my life, since that's what everyone else seems to be doing, I'll give that to you. I have a brother who's two years older than me, and ever since I was born, it was like there was a competition between him and I to get our parents' attention. And he always won. When I was eight, we took a trip to Disney World and they left without me. They were all the way to South Carolina before they even realized they were missing a child," She laughed bitterly. "But that's just life, I guess. I decided to start acting up to get their attention, because that's what all the kids in the movies did. My latest stunt was beating that girl up, which is what got me here. It wasn't worth it, though. My parents picked me up, gave me five minutes of their time, and then went back to doting over my brother."

"Who's your brother?" Damian asked.

"Oh, you wouldn't know him. He's nineteen. Off to college and all that jazz." Jess answered vaguely.

"What college?"

"Duke."

"Has he ever visited?" Damian leaned forward. "I just like to be able to know the majority of people in town. Or, you know, just establish facial recognition."

"We only moved here a month ago - a day after you. He's been away at college the whole time." Jess shrugged. "It's a busy place."

"What did you say his name was?"

"I didn't." Jess answered, and apparently that was that.

"Something about her story doesn't quite add up," Damian whispered to Nancy after dropping the matter to the rest of the group. "It just sounds like a bunch of typical sob stories you find online rolled into one."

"You're just paranoid." She murmured back.

"Hey, you're the one who asked for my opinion." He mumbled in response as Gunnar began his turn.

"Okay, I'm Gunnar Travis Clements and I'm fifteen years old. A lot of you probably know about my family because we're the laughingstock of the town, but I'll tell you it from a Clements' point of view. I'm the third oldest, next to the the twins, so my parents expect me to get like five jobs to take care of their other six kids. Which, I don't even know why they had so many if they can't afford to keep us. I mean, they each only have one job, but they want me, Eliza, and Liam to uphold multiple jobs on top of school? How do they expect us to do that? So, under the insane amount of pressure, I cracked. I started stealing food from the grocery store, and passing it off like I had bought it with the money I had gotten from my job there.

"At first, it was small things like a bushel of bananas here, or a box of cereal there. But then times got especially rough. Or, at least, rougher than usual. My mom lost her job, and we were barely making enough to keep out house. Our two room house. So then I started stealing bigger things. Eventually, I ended up shoving an entire rotisserie chicken into my backpack after one shift and hoping that nobody noticed that it was more stuffed when I went out then when I had came in. And now I'm here, and my family is probably starving to death along with being worried for me. I never should've done something so stupid. I should've just asked my boss if he could pay me in food instead of money. This is all on me."

"It's okay, G-man," Jess comforted him. "We're all here because we screwed up one time or another. It's not on you. It's on us."

Drew looked back between them and Nancy and Damian, whose hands were still intertwined. "Damn, I'm incarcerated and about to die, and here I am, feeling like a total fifth wheel."

"Let's spend our last night like normal teenagers." Nancy proclaimed.

"We're playing Truth or Dare." Damian announced, eyeing Jess - and Nancy knew he was going to pursue his quest in getting answers for his earlier thoughts and suspicions.

"Fine with me," Jess held his glare, not letting on that she was even the slightest bit intimidated. "In fact, I'll start. Truth or Dare, Nancy?"

"Truth." Nancy responded, scared that somebody would dare her to lick the bottom of her shoe - maybe she should use that on somebody before they got the chance to use it on her.

"Did your sister ever mention the name of her boss to you?"

"Well, we aren't exactly buddy-buddy, so that's a no," Nancy responded. "And if she had, I definitely would've mentioned it by now. Truth or Dare, Drew?"

"Dare." He wiggled his eyebrows. "I like to live life on the edge."

"Alright, then. I dare you to lick the bottom of your shoe." Nancy was proud of herself for thinking that one up.

"Oh, Nancy, that's gross!" Drew complained, but took his shoe off despite his obvious reservations. Tentatively, he stuck his tongue out to touch the sole of his sneaker. "Ew!"

"Nancy, that's the most classic yet disgusting dare in the history of dares," Damian commented. "I like the way you think."

"Okay, Truth or Dare, Gunnar?" Drew questioned, to Damian's dismay.

"How come nobody asks me?" He whined.

"Patience, young grasshopper," Gunnar joked. "I'll ask you next. And, truth."

"What's the coolest thing you've ever stolen?" Drew asked, referring to Gunnar's tale.

"I've ever only stolen food, so I guess Nutella...?"
The group laughed. "Nice one," Jess grinned. "If you didn't steal Nutella, I'd be concerned for your mental health."

"Truth or Dare, Damian?" Gunnar inquired after sticking his tongue out at Jess playfully. "Think this through caref-"

"Dare!"

"Or just cut me off, I see-"

"You didn't have to cut me off!" Damian and Drew chorused together, and then exchanged looks of new-found respect.

"Okay, I dare you to... um, kiss Nancy." Gunnar blurted, playing matchmaker.

"That's gonna be hard to do because of the bars, but, hey," Damian turned to Nancy, shooting her a not-so-subtle wink. "Nothing can come between our love."

"Shut up, Damian, we've only known each other for four days." Nancy concealed her laughter behind a forced frown as Damian gasped and Drew continued singing the verse he and the aforementioned boy had started earlier.

"Make it like it never happened and we were nothing! I don't even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough!"
"For your information, Nance, I think Drew is my actual soulmate, so I don't have time for you anymore." Damian teased.

"Awe, Damian," Drew placed his hands over his heart. "I knew you felt the same way!"

"My god, will both of you just shut up and get on with the dare already?" Jess asked.

"With pleasure." Damian pecked Nancy on the cheek through the bars, leaving her yearning for more - but she would never admit that to anyone.

"Truth or Dare, Jess?" Damian moved on quickly, though, finally getting to the part he had clearly been anticipating.

"Dare." Jess had probably been waiting for this too, and wanted to avoid being required to tell him the truth about anything.

"I dare you to tell me where your brother actually is." Damian challenged.

"Oh, come on, Damian, don't play like that," Nancy said. "It's no fun."

"I know what will lighten the mood," Jess declared, pulling out a flask from her waistband. "I almost forgot about this."

"Where did you get that?" Nancy asked, amazed by the find.

"Your sister," Jess answered. "I swiped it off of her while we were in the booth room. She has one with her at all times, you know."

-

Zoe was drunk again; Nancy could smell it on her breath from all the way across the room. "Hey, Nance," She yelled from he position on her queen-sized bed, a silver flask in her hand.

"Z, are you drunk again?" Nancy asked, even though she already knew the answer. "That's the third time this week!" And it was only Wednesday.

"You mean it's the third time you've caught me," Zoe corrected.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Nancy wondered aloud. "Is this because of that new guy you're dating?"

"No," Zoe laughed. "Of course not."

"Then why are you dating him?"

"Because he's on the police force," Zoe responded simply, as if were the obvious choice.

"Why? Do their uniforms turn you on?" Nancy joked, but was half-expecting that to be the actual reason.

Nothing could prepare her for the real answer.

"No, silly," Nancy's sister patted her on the head, in a sort of daze. "Because I need someone on the force to get rid of the drug and alcohol abuse charges on my records."

Nancy gaped at her older sibling. "You do drugs?"

"Don't act all high and mighty, missy. I know you do them too."

"No, I really don't," Nancy retorted in all honestly. "So you're using your boyfriend illegally?"

"Yeah, but only if I do stuff for him in return."

"Like what?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Yes, I would. Now tell me, what kind of stuff does he make you do, Z?" Nancy pressed, concerned for her sister's well being - even though Zoe didn't seem to care about how she was doing very much.

"Promise you won't tell?"

"I promise."

"Really bad stuff," Zoe whispered. "Really, really bad."

"Like what?" Nancy repeated her earlier inquiry, but it was starting to look like she'd never get a straight answer.

"He has really pretty eyes," Zoe flopped back into her pillows, a far-away look on her face.

"Is that why you stay with him?"
"Really, really pretty eyes."

"Hey, Z, what did you say his name was again?" Nancy asked, wanting to find this guy and talk to him in person.

"They're like the ocean."

"What?"

"His eyes. They're like the ocean." Zoe avoided answering the question.

"Zoe, I need you to tell me his name." Nancy persisted, sincerely worried for her older sister. She was in a constant downward spiral these days.

"Trenton Anthony Phillips," She slurred, and closed her eyes, out like a light.

-

Nancy didn't know how she hadn't made the connection earlier. "Oh my god," She blurted, addressing Jess. "It's you. You're the traitor."

a/n: who saw that one coming? going once, going twice?