Home & Away 1. Prologue: Prisoner 697235, Eric Dalby

**Type of Story: **Long.

**Rating: **T.

**Main Characters: **Ric Dalby, Johnny Cooper and Caleb Baker (Original Character).

**Genre: **Drama/Angst/Romance.

**Warning: 1. **There will be a few spoilers. **2.** This is a prison fic so it is bound to get a little nasty, with warnings of **violence** & **language**. **3.** There is slash, which means a male/male relationship. It is only subtle but it's enough.

**Summary: **Ric has been sentenced and heading to prison with Johnny. While his friends try to rescue him, all Ric can do is take Johnny's punishment. That is until his cellmate comes from solitary confinement. Has Ric found help or has he found someone worse than Johnny? Slowly, ever so slowly, Ric begins to find out just who Caleb Baker is. That is when the chaos really begins.

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**Prologue**

**Prisoner #697235, Eric Dalby.**

It was over. The trial was over, and so was Ric Dalby's life on the outside. Even after hours of silence, he could still hear his girlfriends sobs as the verdict was read. Still hear the protests from his friends and family as he was taken away to his new life. He hadn't looked at them, opting to stare at the ground to avoid more pain and suffering. Whether he did that for himself or for the people he loved, he did not know. He had just followed the guards and did everything they demanded, still numb and in a daze.

That had been hours ago and yet Ric could not bring himself back. All he could do was stare at the walls that he would have to look at for the next eighteen years. No more and certainly no less. They would make sure of that.

Ric hadn't expected to be alone in his cell but when he had asked, he had been told a cellmate would be joining him soon. He couldn't decide whether to be thankful of the company or whether to worry about his possible cellmate. All he did know was that right now, being alone in that cell was a bad thing.

"Lights out!" came a shout, jolting Ric out of his thoughts. He glanced at the door, watching as the guards began locking the prisoners into their cells.

Just as he was about to look away and settle down, Ric finally caught a glimpse of him. He saw the look on his face, the wicked grin that was aimed at him. At that moment, Ric realized that being alone was a blessing. After all, it could have been worse.

If locking the door kept Johnny Cooper out, Ric would welcome the idea of being locked in that cell forever. It was bad enough that he knew his life would be made pure hell through the long hours, that would be day. Right now Ric Dalby loved being...alone.

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Chapter 1: A Welcome Gift

**Disclaimer:** I only own Caleb. The rest belong to other monkeys.

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**Chapter One**

**A Welcome Gift.**

He opened his eyes, staring up at the all too familiar ceiling, as the door was unlocked and it swung open, indicating that daylight was upon him. The sounds of his fellow inmates reached his ears, some joking around. He stayed on his bed, waiting for the noise to settle down. He had learnt, from the one week he had been there, that it was always noisy at breakfast time. Ric couldn't figure out why, since the food served at breakfast time could barely pass as edible.

He didn't want to move. Didn't want to venture out of his cell at all. Like the last seven days, all Ric had wanted to do was dodge Johnny and his gang of thugs. It wasn't an easy task to do in prison but he had managed so far. And while dodging Johnny and his pals, he had also managed to isolate himself from other prisoners who were trying to make an effort with him. Both tasks made seven days feel like seven years.

In those seven days he had stuck pictures on his wall, staring at the familiar faces for hours. He hadn't realized just how much he would miss them all. With this act, the cell had begun to feel like home, in a weird kind of way. It made it easier to stay in the cell all day. But like many things, hunger won over comfort. As Ric began to feel the hunger pains, he stood up and prepared himself for breakfast and the day ahead.

When he finally joined the queue, he was one of the last few. He glanced round, trying to locate Johnny or any of his thugs. Satisfied that they were no where in sight, he went to the nearest empty table and sat down, tucking in to the almost cold porridge he had opted for. But, after seven days of calmness, it was finally over.

"Now why would you wanna sit on your own when you could have the company of your friends?" came a familiar voice, followed by a bowl slamming down on the table. Ric didn't need to look up from the table; he knew who was offering him company. He could feel them watching him. Ric could practically feel Johnny's grin, but he did nothing. Didn't dare look at Johnny, for fear that anger would take over. So he just pushed his empty bowl away and placed his hand, palm down, on the table. A move he would come to regret.

"Why do I get the feeling you are avoiding me?" Johnny went on, revelling in the uneasy feeling he was bringing out in Ric. "I get transferred here just for you and all you can do is hurt my feelings."

"I didn't realize you had feelings," Ric spat out before he could stop himself. He dared a glance at Johnny, seeing that the wicked grin hadn't faltered.

"I have feelings but do you?" he asked. Before Ric could decipher the meaning of his words, Johnny showed him. The pain didn't hit him at first, his brain too focused on the object sticking out of his hand. It was only when Johnny twisted it that Ric felt the sharpness of the weapon. He gritted his teeth, biting back a cry of pain.

"We can make this whole experience easy for you if you work with us. Help smuggle a few harmless things in and we can take care of you," Johnny told him, the genuine tone in his voice scaring Ric a lot more than the pain in his wounded hand. Within seconds the weapon was out of his hand, blood beginning to pool in the shallow wound.

"So what do you say?" Johnny finished. Ric glanced at each and everyone of the gang before focusing his full attention on Johnny. He didn't respond verbally; he had been taught that actions speak louder than words. He stood, turned and walked away, carefully hiding the wound from the prison guards.

It was only when he got back to his cell and tended to the wound that he realized that he was shaking.

\\

He looked pale and tired. That was the first thing that Morag noticed as Ric sat down opposite her. She tried to hide the pain and shock of seeing Ric so... un-Ric like. Ten days in and he was already like a different person. She dreaded the thought of what a full sentence would do to him. It made her even more determined to overturn the sentence.

"How is everyone?" he asked, longing to hear about his friends and family.

"They are all working on freeing you. Matilda is doing everything she can think of to drum up support," Morag told him. The mention of his girlfriend brought a familiar spark to Ric. He smiled, as if knowing all that Matilda was doing for him.

"How is she?" Ric asked, wanting an honest answer. Lucky for Ric, Morag had never been one for watering down the truth.

"She is still struggling but is putting her energy elsewhere. After the sentencing she was a mess but we took care of her," she answered, Matilda's sobs still fresh in her memory. She had let the others take care of her, unable to handle the girl. It wasn't that she didn't care. It was because she didn't want to upset her even more.

"Promise me you'll take care of her until Beth comes back," Ric said, the worry for his girlfriend obviously more important than his own worries.

"Of course," was all she could say. They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, Morag subtly observing him. She watched as he scratched at his hand. It was only then that she noticed the material wrapped round it. With further inspection she saw the pinkish marks on the homemade bandage, knowing exactly what it was. When he caught her staring, he hid his hands under the table.

Morag took the hint.

\\

That afternoon, Morag did nothing but curse in her mind. She cursed the jury for being too blind to see the truth, she cursed Matilda for the evidence she gave in court and cursed Sally for ever giving Rocco Cooper a chance. But she was not angry at them. Deep down she was angry at herself. Years ago this would not have hurt Morag so much. Now, as she saw how much this had devastated the people she considered friends, Morag felt pain. Pure heartbreaking pain.

But she got her act together, her mask going back on, before she entered the house. She answered their questions in a professional manner, telling them what Ric had told her to say. Left out the information that Ric had pleaded her to keep confidential. After all, she did owe him that much.

The questions went on through the day, from various people of the small community. The words of support comforted her while the words that had no thought put in them cut like a knife. Yet she stayed professional.

In the late afternoon, when school was over, Morag came face to face with Matilda. The girls enthusiasm and hope turned out to be Morag's saviour. They discussed the case again, Morag explaining in detail the things that Matilda wanted to know. It was almost like the teenager was studying law.

When the day was over, and Morag was finally alone, the mask came off. As she sat sipping a drink laced with alcohol, thoughts of Ric locked away in prison whirled through her mind. His wounded hand continued to stick in her thoughts, haunting her.

Even though she didn't think it then, she would begin to thank her brother for knowing her so well. For knowing the professional manner which she addressed everyone was just a mask.

"The truth, Morag," was all Alf had to say to get the whole truth from her. With the truth out, Morag felt better.

\\

"If the wound begins to irritate too much then come back. It should be fine though," said the nurse, giving him a small smile. Ric didn't respond. He just stood up and left the nurse, heading back to his cell. As he walked passed other prisoners, he glanced at a few of them. Only a few looked at him before continuing with their activities. He knew he should join in and try to make friends but he just couldn't. It was too painful.

So he went straight to his cell to rest before dinner. But the thought of rest quickly disappeared when he walked in to find Johnny and two of his friends waiting in his cell. Johnny didn't look at him; his attention on the photo in his hand. One look at the wall and Ric knew which picture he had taken down.

"Put it back," he said, protective over the image of his girlfriend. That was when Johnny finally began to pay attention to him. He grinned at Ric before sticking the picture back on the wall, right where it had been before.

"Calm down, mate. I've done many things in my time but underage is not one of them," Johnny told him as he stood up. Much to Johnny's amusement, Ric didn't move back. Didn't even flinch as he stepped closer. All Ric did was stare at him, hatred in his eyes.

"How's the hand?" he asked, one of the thugs laughing. Ric lifted it, showing off the clean bandage that had been placed on his wound. Though he hadn't wanted to involve anyone else, Morag had persuaded him to go to the prison hospital to make sure it was really okay. He wanted to thank her when he saw her next. Johnny glanced at the hand, noticing the familiar prison bandages. He wasn't impressed.

"If I find out you told them then that is it," he threatened. It was Ric's turn to smirk. In a flash he was up against the wall, being pinned in place by Johnny.

"Scared?" Ric asked, the grin still firmly in place. The look on Johnny's face was enough to know that he was in for a beating. Ric just laughed.

"Play time is over. It's time for your welcome present," Johnny replied. He pushed Ric hard against the wall before letting go, backing away.

Ric had taken just one step away from the wall before he was manhandled by the other two, one holding his arms tight while the other held him still, his hand clamped over his mouth. All Ric could do was watch as Johnny pulled out a metal knife, along with a lighter. His eyes went wide as Johnny began to heat up the metal, the flames licking at the weapon. When Johnny began to step towards him, Ric struggled and tried to get away. His head was roughly pulled to the side, exposing his neck. He tried to shout but the hand on his mouth muffled his attempts. Later he would kick himself for not thinking about biting the hand but at that moment, all his mind was focused on was the hot metal that was edging closer to his skin.

"This will only hurt for a second," Johnny murmured, that wicked grin on his face. Ric closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as the metal finally fell on his neck. The first few seconds there was nothing but a tingling sensation. Then the feeling caught up with him and he let out a muffled scream.

"Okay, so maybe I lied," Johnny said before laughing. Ric kept his eyes closed, using his hearing to determine when it would be over. And it didn't take him long to realize that Johnny was just getting warmed up.

When dinner time came round, Johnny just told the guards that Ric was feeling unwell. None of them went to check on him.

\\

Lights out had been an hour ago, the darkness welcomed by Ric. He had spent most of the evening crouched on the floor, his forehead resting on his knees. He had rocked back and forth gently, his eyes closed, as the pains from the burns began to subsided. When the lights had been turned out, the door slammed shut and locked, relief fell over him. He had stood up and moved over to his bed, laying down as his eyes had adjusted to the dark.

Now he stood in front of the mirror above the small dirty sink, his eyes on the burns on his neck. Through the darkness he could see the red of each line that Johnny had inflicted on him. He touched the three neat lines, wincing at the pain. Years of safety lessons finally became handy and he turned on the tap, letting the water become almost ice cold. He placed his hand under the water, letting it get thoroughly drenched.

This time when he touched the burns, he did not wince. He kept soaking the raw skin with water until it became numb, his eyes never leaving the reflection.

**To Be Continued...**


	3. Chapter 2: Playtime is Almost Over

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 1.

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**Chapter Two**

**Playtime is Almost Over.**

"But what does it mean?" she asked, desperate for the meaning and irritated that none of them would give her a straight forward answer. Peter glanced at Lara, who had been watching them since the teenager had walked in to the station. She knew that he was silently pleading for her to take the girl and explain it, but she was enjoying the scene too much to interrupt.

Matilda just kept staring at the detective, waiting for an explanation to the letter that she was holding in her hand. At first she had just been confused by the words, unable to understand no matter how many times she read them. Now, after Peter had tried to help, she was just full of rage. He had tried, and failed, to explain it as gently as possible. It was on to plan B for Peter Baker.

"It means your visiting rights are restricted. You'll have to communicate through phones and there will be something separating you," he told her, watching as her face paled and the rage, that she had been clinging to, flowed away.

Matilda looked down at the letter in her hand, her eyes roaming over the words printed on the rough paper. When she had read the letter the first time, she had guessed that it was telling her that there would be some things different with her visit. She just hadn't wanted her suspicions to be correct, so she had gone looking for Morag. When she couldn't find her, she went to the second best person to ask. Which is how she had ended up at the police station, in Peter's office.

She wasn't impressed with his answers.

"Why?" was all she could ask. Even though she looked pale and near breaking point, like a lost little girl, her tone was that of a fighter. Peter couldn't help but think that Matilda had been hanging round Morag for too long. She stared at him, one eyebrow raised, as she waited for another answer. He wanted to lie to her but he couldn't. After everything, he owed her the truth.

"You are too young to be put in a visit where there are others around. You are going into a prison that holds murderers, drug abusers and possibly paedophiles. If anything goes wrong then this way, you aren't being put in danger," he told her, giving her a half truth. He tried to decipher what she was feeling but within seconds, Matilda had managed to put a barrier up. It was obvious that she was angry still.

"Shouldn't it be up to me?" she asked, determination in her voice. He glanced at Lara again, still trying to plead with her. She shrugged and gave him a look that told him he shouldn't lie to the girl. It was okay for her though; it wasn't her who had to explain to the teenager. Peter looked at Matilda again, finding himself unable to look her in the eye. That was when she realized. "Tell me the whole truth."

"Ric is one of those murderers. We all may know the truth but they are convinced that he killed Rocco and will treat him like they treat all murderers," he told her. The barrier came crashing down, her cheeks going red and her hands clenching into fists. It was obvious to both Peter and Lara the rage Matilda had been feeling before was nothing compared to how she felt now. Lara watched in new found fascination, seeing the glare that was being aimed at the detective. She couldn't decide if Matilda was going to just walk out or if she was going to slap Peter.

With the way he had handled their whole conversation, Lara was hoping to see him slapped. But all Matilda did was slam the letter down on Peter's desk, turn and walk out, pushing passed Jack as he made his way in. He glanced at Peter and then at Lara.

"What did I miss?"

\\\

"I bet you thought you would be bored in here," were the words that made Ric smile. He glanced at the person who had spoken, seeing a responding smile.

"I guess I didn't realize what you guys got in prison. This almost makes up for being caged," Ric replied, as he took a book off the shelf. Old man Walter, one of the few inmates who was still trying to be friendly to Ric, just watched him.

'That's a good book. Should keep you out of mischief for a while," he said, humour in his voice. Ric laughed as he took a seat at one of the tables in the room. He opened the book and began to read, welcoming the silence that he found in the room. If he had known how relaxing it was in there, he would have ventured out of his cell days ago. There was no point in spending every hour in his cell now; Johnny had made that perfectly clear.

With his concentration fully on the book, he found himself fascinated from the first page. He was so engrossed that he didn't hear the prison guard come in until he spoke, making Ric jump.

"The governor wants to see you," he said, his words aimed at the only other person in the room. Ric glanced at Walter and smiled when he saw him roll his eyes. The older man followed the guard, Ric watching them go. It was only then that he took a good look round.

The room, which could only be described as a lounge area, was quite big. There were stacks of books to choose from and, from what he had been told, they were changed every two month. There was one pool table and other games for them to play. The lounge was a relaxing place. Somewhere for him to find a small amount of peace and quiet. Or so he hoped.

Ric looked down at the book in his hands, grinning to himself. It had been a long time he had been able to concentrate on reading an actual book. He had given up school because he couldn't concentrate enough to study. Things had changed when Flynn had died, including how his mind worked. He preferred to think of it as a good change but right then, he wasn't so sure.

The thoughts of Flynn wiped the smile off his face. Since the trial, he had thought many time about how Flynn would have reacted. He knew deep down that there would have been no disappointment but his mind played tricks with him. All Ric could think was that every single one of his friends were probably disappointed in him. That would have explained the lack of visits.

"No," he murmured. His voice may have been barely audible but his tone shook off all doubts. To think that his friends would turn their backs on him made him feel guilt. Ric put a stop to the thoughts, going back to the book that he had found interesting moments before.

Ric had gotten through two chapters before he was joined in the lounge. He heard them walk in but didn't look up, not bothered. If he had bothered to look up, he would have realized it was time to leave. It was a few seconds before someone hit the back of his head and ruffled his hair. He glanced up and watched as Johnny took a seat opposite him. Ric didn't move or show any fear, getting used to Johnny showing up. Johnny just smirked at him. Ric book-marked the book and placed it on his lap, giving his full attention.

"Is there something I can do for you?" he asked, wanting to get out as quick as possible.

"I saw you in here on your own and we figured you would want company," Johnny explained. Ric glanced at the other two in the room, finally realizing that he was being watched. He glanced at the door as a third man walked in and shut the door, blocking the small window. Still he didn't show any fear; he just put his full attention back on to Johnny.

"I'm touched but I prefer being alone," Ric told him. Johnny laughed, the others following on. That was not the reaction Ric was hoping for. Johnny moved his chair closer to Ric, taking the book from his lap and reading the cover. "I didn't know you were a bookworm."

"There is a lot you don't know about me," Johnny shot back, throwing the book down on the table. He stared at Ric, his amused gaze falling on the red marks on his neck. The burn marks had stopped hurting days ago but, as Johnny kept staring at them, they began to itch. It was like his gaze had the power to re-burn the marks, causing more pain and suffering.

But Ric just stared back, unwilling to show the fear that was deep inside him. He glanced one more time at the others in the room before moving to stand, wanting to get out of there and away from them. Johnny's hand on his arm stopped him and he was roughly pushed back into his chair.

"We haven't finished talking yet," he warned.

"What do you want from me?" Ric asked, his voice calm. Johnny stared him right in the eyes and when a grin appeared on his face, Ric knew that he saw the fear in them.

"You've been here for almost a month and have only had one visitor, but from what I've been hearing, that is about to change. The way I hear it, you're about to see your girlfriend again and that means everything to us all," Johnny explained.

"No," Ric said instantly, knowing exactly what they wanted. Johnny laughed again but this time there was no humour.

"I'm not asking you to do something for me. I'm telling you," he replied.

"And I'm telling you no," Ric said as he stood up again. He moved to go to the door, intent on getting out any way possible. But Ric was too slow. As one of the thugs blocked the door fully, a hand grabbed his arm again and he was roughly turned round, a fist connecting with his face. He stumbled back, right into one of the other thugs. All he got was a knee to the stomach. Ric doubled over in pain, falling to the floor. Not wanting to be left out, the other thug kicked him in the ribs. It was obvious that he hadn't done it as hard as possible to make sure he didn't break any bones. Ric wanted to laugh at that, but the feeling of pain took up all of his abilities.

"Ready to reconsider?" Johnny asked. When Ric stayed silent, he was hit in the face again by Johnny. He just watched as Johnny signalled at one of the others, Ric's eyes going wide as he was thrown a pool cue. Johnny waved it a few times, as if teasing Ric. "That's the problem with prisons these days. Not enough guards to watch every room."

"Do I look like I care?" Ric mumbled, his jaw cracking in protest at being hit twice. They laughed at him, their enjoyment of the situation obvious.

"So the pretty boy doesn't mind a few bruises to the face?" Johnny asked, putting the pool cue under Ric's chin and making him look up. "How would she react to a few bruises?"

"Leave Matilda alone!" Ric said forcefully, anger instantly appearing in his eyes. Though Johnny would never admit it to anyone, he was impressed with the protectiveness that Ric had for his girlfriend.

"It's not like I could do anything anyway. Remember, I am locked in here with you," he told Ric. The anger Ric felt did not disappear. Johnny moved the pool cue away and twirled it again, staring down at Ric with a sick grin on his face. As soon as he saw the look, the anger in Ric faded, replaced with defeat.

"What do you want me to do?" Ric asked, his voice flat.

"Make your girlfriend bring in a few things for us," Johnny told him. Ric, still holding his stomach in pain, slowly got to his feet.

"She is coming tomorrow," he said, no emotion in his voice or on his face. Johnny put his hand on Ric's shoulder, happy with the way things were going. He hadn't expected Ric to agree so easily.

"See what happens when you cooperate with us. We can get along just fine in here with a little cooperation and understanding," he told Ric.

"I see her tomorrow and when she asks if there is anything I want brought in next time..." Ric said, stopping to weigh up the situation. He wanted to cooperate, for some reason knowing that if he did then Johnny would stop the torture, but he knew that saving himself would sacrifice Matilda's safety. And when her safety is on the line, there would be no contest. He took a deep breath, knowing what was going to happen. Matilda's safety was worth it.

"... I'll tell her no, you sick son of bitch," he said, showing Johnny no fear. The hand that had been resting on his shoulder dropped, Johnny shaking his head at the words.

It wasn't long before the pool cue connected with his face, knocking him off his feet. As soon as he hit the ground, all hell broke loose. He felt every whack of the cue on his back and sides, knowing that the welts would be there for weeks. But he didn't care; all that mattered was that Matilda was kept out of harms way.

Fifteen minutes later they both walked passed guards and prisoners as they made their way up to his cell, Ric leaning on Johnny for support. No one asked questions about the state that he was in. They just glanced at him, some with pity in their eyes. Johnny, being the gentleman he was, helped Ric all the way into his cell and placed him on his bed, watching as Ric just winced as he tried to lay down on his back.

"You might want to turn over," Johnny told him, amusement in his voice.

"Get the fuck out of my cell," Ric murmured, making Johnny laugh. He knelt down to Ric's level, Ric watching his every move.

"You can't tell me what to do after everything you took from me. Playtime is nearly over and trust me, when that is over then you will want to take anything that is offered," he told him, the words chilling Ric to the bone. He looked at Johnny, really looked at him, and was shocked at the difference. There was no amusement and no sick playful look; just a man still in mourning. And that is what scared Ric the most. Within seconds that side of Johnny was gone and Ric watched as he stood up and walked to the door. Before he left, he glanced back at Ric.

"Remember what I said," he said, before leaving. As he left, someone took his place in the cell. Walter watched Johnny leave, making sure he was far away, before taking a closer look at Ric. The bruises on his face were already beginning to go black and blue.

\\\

She watched as they filed in, one by one, and found their loved ones. Some paid attention to nothing but their visitors. Others took a good look at each and every one of the visitors behind the glass. Which was what one prisoner, older than most there, was doing as he caught sight of Matilda. Recognition entered his eyes, yet she had never seen him before. Her initial reaction was fright but she soon banished that, finding the old man unthreatening. If anything, the smile and little wave he offered her put her at ease a little.

As the old man moved on, Matilda sat back in her chair and waited while the last of the prisoners made there way in. She watched the last person as he slowly wandered in, his head down and his arm to his stomach. As he got closer and took a seat, careful not to lean back on the chair, Matilda finally got a good look at her boyfriend. What she saw made her want to scream. His face was covered in bruises, a mixture of black, purple and red. Upon further inspection, Matilda noticed that it wasn't just his face that was injured. As her eyes travelled down to his neck, her heart missed a beat. Though the burn marks were healing nicely, the scars were there for all to see. They made her feel sick.

Ric just stared back at her, the sight of his girlfriend taking away all of the pain that Johnny had inflicted on him 24 hours before. It was obvious that she was assessing the bruising, burns and wounds that were visible to her. And there were many. He reached out, picking up the phone and waiting. She mirrored his actions, putting the phone to her ear.

"It's good to see you," he said, all emotion behind his few words. The raw emotion was like a slap in the face. Matilda looked down, not wanting Ric to see the pity and the tears in her eyes. He watched her, thankful. When she had her emotions under control, she looked at him once more.

"How are you?" she said, feeling stupid for asking. He gave her a small smile, though it did not reach his eyes.

"Tell me what I have missed," he replied, avoiding her question. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, determined not to break.

"Cassie and Macca are moving back to the Bay. It was actually Macca who suggested it and he is helping in a big way. I think he feels he owes you. Kit is about ready to cut the baby out herself but that is to be expected. She never has been the most patient Hunter," Matilda said, smiling when Ric laughed.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"I nearly slapped Peter yesterday. But in my defence, I was provoked," she replied, trying to act innocent. Ric nodded, the smile still on his lips. Seeing the spark beginning to shine again gave Matilda hope. The hope was short-lived.

"How is Sal? And Pippa?" he asked, his love for his family coming through his voice.

"Sally is working hard on your appeal, just like everyone else. And Pippa is..." Matilda said, stopping a little too abruptly. She wanted to tell Ric that his baby sister was getting on fine but she couldn't lie to him. And he didn't _want _to hear a lie.

"Tell me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"She may be a small child but she understands something has happened. She keeps asking for you and we keep telling her you'll be home soon but she cries for you," Matilda replied, her voice cracking as she thought of the many times she had heard Pippa screaming out for her brother since the sentencing.

Ric just watched his girlfriend, unable to crack like her. He refused to let the emotions get to him, even though he was breaking inside. It was in this moment of pure sadness that Matilda could ask the one question she had wanted to ask from the moment she had seen his battered and bruised face,

"Is that the work of Johnny?" she asked, her eyes on the scars that graced Ric's neck.

"I can handle it. Do not worry about me," he told her, his tone forceful. At that moment a sound filled the room, indicating that it was time to say goodbye.

"I'll come back soon," Matilda told him. He didn't reply. He just put his phone back and placed his hand on the glass. The reason behind the move was obvious; he didn't have the strength to say the words. So she just laid her hand on the glass, covering his, and mouthed the words that he just could not speak. The glass went from cold to warm and to both, it felt like they were touching. The feeling didn't just comfort Ric. Within seconds the moment was broken and Ric was being guided away by the old man who had first put her at ease. All she could do was watch as the love of her life was thrown back into the pit of hell.

Fifteen minutes later, as Matilda left the prison, Johnny watched her from the yard. From her features, and her actions, it was obvious that Ric had failed him. And no one ever failed Johnny Cooper.

\\\

"One hell of a girl you've got there," he said as he sat on the window seat right next Ric. All he got in reply was deafening silence. Ric had heard him but he stayed silent, unmoving and unblinking, as he stared at the wall. Johnny just watched him, waiting for a reaction, any reaction, from his new 'friend'. He became disappointed very quickly.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" he asked, chuckling as Ric finally looked at him.

"I don't like the sound of my own voice. Guess that's one thing we don't have in common," Ric replied, glancing at the guards and other prisoners in the lounge room. He was thankful that they were around, knowing that Johnny would never try anything with witnesses around. So Johnny just sat closer to Ric and put his arm round his shoulders.

"You're a funny guy but comedy won't keep you in my good books," Johnny whispered in his ear, Ric shuddering at the closeness. The hand resting on his shoulder became tighter, the fingers digging into his flesh. It would have been bearable, if the grip hadn't been on one of the more painful bruises, courtesy of Johnny and the pool cue. But right at that very moment the pain that shot through his shoulder was enough to blur Ric's vision and he closed his eyes tight. Oh course, this made Johnny grin in happiness.

"Open your eyes," Johnny instructed, Ric doing what he was told for once.

"What do you want from me?" Ric asked through gritted teeth.

"I just came to see how your visit went. I saw her leave and she seemed very happy for someone whose been told to bring a few supplies in next time," Johnny replied, feeling Ric tense up even more as he looked down at the floor. He waited for Ric to speak, to admit that he hadn't asked. Even after the beating he had taken, he had still rebelled by saying nothing. If it had been anyone else then Johnny would have been impressed by the braveness. But Johnny could never be impressed by the person who took away his only brother. So he waited, and waited, until finally Ric found his voice again and spoke.

"I was going to ask but I couldn't. She is just a kid," he said, knowing that it was a lame excuse. Johnny laughed, genuinely amused.

"A kid that you seem to care about a lot," Johnny commented. "I told you that playtime will be over for you soon. Next time she visits, you ask her."

"I would rather suffer more beatings than do your dirty work," Ric murmured, knowing that he was playing a dangerous game. But then Ric had never been one for the safe path. Johnny roughly pulled Ric closer.

"That can be arranged. You should be thankful you are still breathing after what you did to my brother. Lucky for you, I am a patient man and believe me, I am going to enjoy every single day of torture until you realize that your life doesn't belong to you anymore," Johnny whispered in his ear, the words chilling Ric to the core. Knowing that the words had gotten through, Johnny's mission was complete. He patted Ric's bruised back, kissing him roughly on the forehead, and then he was gone.

The chill stayed with Ric for the rest of the day.

**To Be Continued...**

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	4. Chapter 3: Unsettling News

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 1.

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**Chapter Three**

**Unsettling News.**

She stared at the brown envelope that was being offered, her eyes narrowing. It was as if she thought that it would bite if touched.

"Take the flamin' thing," Alf said, placing the offending envelope onto the table. She stared down, taking in the unfamiliar curved handwriting. There was no indication that what was inside was important, but she knew. She knew that what was contained in that envelope was not just about Ric, but about something much bigger. The only way to know more was to take a look.

She opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, Alf watching as she skimmed over the words. He was used to Morag staying like a stonewall, so imagine his surprise when the default expression on her face shifted to a look of shock. He was not the only one who noticed.

"Is something wrong?" Sally asked.

"Ric is getting a cellmate," Morag replied. The words didn't shock Sally; they scared her. As soon as she heard the words cell and mate, her mind went to the worst case scenario. Her only thought was that, if Johnny could get himself transferred to the same prison block, he could get himself put in the same cell. The thought terrified her. She dropped down onto a chair, waiting for Morag to tell her she was wrong.

But no words came. Morag was too focused on the letter, a look of curiosity on her face.

"Very interesting," she murmured, mostly to herself, as she folded the letter and put it back on the table. They just watched her as she stood and picked up her bag before leaving. Her reaction put Sally at ease and made her just a little bit curious. She glanced at the door once before picking up the letter and reading. With each sentence read, Sally began to understand Morag's reaction. And she knew exactly where she was heading.

\\\

She knocked with purpose, waiting for someone to answer. She knew they were awake; she could hear VJ playing. So Morag waited and waited, until finally someone answered. Leah greeted her with her usual cheerful smile, moving to let her in.

"What can I do for you this morning?" she asked, even her voice coming out cheerful. Morag followed Leah into the kitchen, finding both Dan and Peter sat at the table.

"I'm glad you're both here. I received an interesting letter this morning from the prison," Morag told them, her attention solely on the Bakers.

"Is Ric okay?" Leah asked, concerned.

"He is fine but that is not the topic of the letter. It seems that Ric is finally getting a cellmate," she explained. That grabbed their attention. "The man in question has been in solitary for quite a few years."

"What does this have to do with us?" Leah asked, not seeing the smile on Dan's face disappear almost immediately.

"His name is Caleb Baker," Morag finished, ignoring Leah's question. She watched for a reaction and, when Dan looked down at the table with new found interest, she knew that she was on the right path of thought. The reaction from Peter was much stronger. The colour drained from his face, making him as white as a sheet. At that moment Drew walked in, noticing the looks immediately.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. He got no reply.

\\\

She didn't know what to do and he had no idea what to say. They had tried to hold a conversation but failed miserably. It wasn't that they had nothing to say to each other. It was just hard to talk with an audience watching.

Matilda tried to keep her attention on Ric but she found herself wandering to another prisoner. And the new bruises this prisoner had inflicted on her boyfriend. She had gone in thinking that he would be fully healed, as Morag had promised. But, as he had walked in, she had seen the fresh bruising on his face and neck. And then, to her amazement, Johnny had walked in and sat in the next booth, giving her the most charming smile. It made her want to vomit.

That had been almost half an hour ago and he still kept aiming that smile in her direction. It didn't just put her on edge; Ric felt equally uneasy. Part of him wanted to be stubborn and pretend they weren't being watched but the other part cared too much. There was only one thing he could do.

"Send them my love," he said, hanging up the phone and leaving before she could protest. She sat in stunned silence for what felt like hours, worry and hurt going through her.

"I thought he had more manners than that," brought her back to life. Her eyes refocused and she stared at the man who had taken the place her boyfriend had been moments before. The charming smile was still in place. She moved to hang up the phone but his next words stopped her.

"It's great news about your boy," he stated, watching for a reaction. She tried to give him nothing but she found she couldn't; she was curious. Her head was telling her it was good news but her heart was telling her a different story. If it was good news she would be hearing it from Morag, not Johnny.

"What news?" she asked finally, her grip on the phone getting tighter, her fingers going white from the pressure.

"Ric is getting a cellmate. The word in here is that he is one hell of an inmate. Solitary confinement, mental wards," he explained. "He makes me and my boys look like the perfect prisoners."

"You're lying," Matilda mumbled, all the colour draining from her face.

"You have every reason to not believe me. But how about asking Detective Baker? Or his brother? I'm sure they would both be willing to tell you about their own cousin," Johnny replied. She sat back in silence as he gave her one last grin before leaving.

Hours later, when Leah opened the door, she found a fragile looking girl. When Dan saw Matilda, he knew exactly why she was so upset.

\\\

He sat on his bed, his back resting against the wall and his legs drawn to his chest, his hands resting on his knees. His head was bowed, his forehead resting on his hands. Long dreadlocks of black and red fell, giving his face a veil. Though he had headphones on, his favourite music filling his ears, he had heard the squeak as the metal window in the door had opened . But he didn't look up to see why they were bothering him, not really caring.

He was used to his own company, being in solitary for longer than he wanted to admit. So when a voice came through the little window and into his lone cell, his head came up and he took notice. His eyes opened and he stared at the little window, seeing someone staring back.

"Stay where you are seated," he was warned before the eyes disappeared. More than a little confused, and curious, he stayed still. The sound of keys turning locks echoed in the room and he tilted his head, not used to the sounds. He wasn't used to being bothered unless on certain days. And he was pretty sure that day was not on the schedule.

The door slowly opened, as squeaky as the metal window, He just watched as a prison guard walked into the room and stood in the corner, watching him like a hawk. The prisoner was about to say something when another man walked into his cell, this one dressed in a suit. As soon as he noticed the suit, he knew he was face to face with the Governor. He switched off the music and took off the headphones, running a hand through his deadlocked hair.

"A visit from our ever faithful governor. This must be serious," he said, his voice deep and rough. He slowly stretched out his legs, knowing what would happen with any sudden movement. He stared up at the Governor, waiting for him to say what he wanted and leave. The words that came from the Governor were not what he expected.

"I've been going through your file recently and discussed your case with a few others. Did you know that your parole hearing is coming up soon?" he asked, looking at the man. The prisoner glanced at the guard before looking down at his bed. The Governor noticed the move, understanding the problem. He looked at the guard, giving him a nod.

"Leave," he instructed. The guard was about to protest, but when he saw the look being sent his way, he did as he was told. When it was just two of them left, the Governor sat down on the bed as the prisoner scooted forward, his feet planted on the floor.

"I'm going to take a stab in the dark and say that one of those people you discussed my case with was my doctor. And I can see where this is heading so please, don't say anything and just leave," he said, not looking at the Governor. The silence that the prisoner was used to was becoming more deafening to him and he closed his eyes, counting to ten.

"We voted against your doctor. You'll be getting a parole hearing," the Gov said, watching the reaction. The prisoner looked at him, not believing. "Your last trip to the institute was nearly a year ago and we've been monitoring you."

"Why tell me now?" he asked, confused.

"Because I think you need time to prepare. It's been almost 10 years since you have been near anyone but doctors and prison guards," the Gov explained.

"So you mean..." he said, coming to a stop when the Gov nodded.

"Pack up your things, Caleb. It's time to move to the main prison."

**To Be Continued...**

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Home & Away, Drama