Behind Cell Doors.

The peeling grey stained wall was beginning to numb Franks brain, his wide awake feelings succumbing him to an almost comatose state,

"Look alive sunshine." A loud clang of metal on metal interrupted his skulking, causing the small male to wince and blink aimlessly as he was blinded by the bright white of the timed lighting that was switched off from 10 until 6.

"Fuck off." He hissed as he tugged the plasticky sheet up and over his bare torso, covering his face also. Frank had never liked the prison clothes and seeing as he didn't have a cell mate he didn't have to worry about his body when banged up for the night.

"Aye, come on prisoner 1078-934," the warden joked, teasing the bed headed male by using his cell number as he yanked away the covers,

"Got a little suprise for you today." He continued and Franks attention was captured,

"What?" He sat up on his elbow, brow knitted with confusion as he squinted in the light. What could it be? A visitor maybe? No, his dad was long gone and his mom, well, he had no idea, and having no kids, wife or even friends meant outside contact only ever came from the crumpled, pre-read letters that were rarely sent to him.

"Ah, you'll see." The guard tapped the side of his nose, acting unusually happy for a fully geared out prison warden as he continued his way around the three storeys of rooms. Frank's mind flickered like an old movie between ideas as he dressed, the scratchy orange material causing him to exhaled loudly, his breath falling back onto his face as he stepped out onto the balcony that looked out upon hundreds of cells and the main room that was dotted with other orange inmates. It was all pretty open plan and modern for a prison, the greying concrete giving it that "you're gonna die here" feel.
Just as the raven haired male began to make his way to the canteen, he found himself in the middle of a sudden and violent scuffle, nothing that wasn't out of the usual. Today it was between a man who usually slept a few doors down from Frank, Lance was it?, who was slashing at a scruffier new boy with his broken razor blade.

"Ya' wanna go?!" Lance hollered, his spittle visible to the spectating Frank, even from his now backed up distance,

"Go on then, I'll 'av you!" The scrawny man below the more muscular male had a hand about Lance's throat and began to squeeze, the skin dipping below his grip just as a pair of uniformed guards men made their way over.

"Alright you little shits-" One of them called and Frank turned his back on the bundle, not giving a toss as he left the sight as just as smoothly as he'd appeared, his nose following the scent of day old food. As he teached the near empty food counter, he tapped his tray on the congregated metal until one of the workers, man or woman? Frank couldn't decipher, offered him the choice of one of the lukewarm yogurts, a bowl of crusty porridge, probably a mixture of all the left overs from yesterday's breakfast, or one of the thousands of brown bread slices. The tiny male swayed from one bare foot to another, finally settling for a bowl of oats, the stodgy mixture and pasty coffee he'd been served meaning he now felt a little more able to face the day.

--

"Cell mate, eh?" Franks lips stayed in a straight line of dissatisfaction,

"And I get out of this, what exactly?" The cool silver of the metal cuff slid down his wrists as he rested his chin on his palms, the restraints stopping at his forearm where the muscle widened the inked limb.

"Maybe a friend? You're really losing yourself y'know, its not good." The warden sat across from Frank leant back in his chair, his own face a mere mirror of the man opposite,

"And, look at it this way, you don't have a choice so I wouldn't want to make it any more of a struggle than its going to be already." Franks insides bubbled with well disciplined anger, he couldn't share a cell, he needed his privacy. And what if this new "cell-mate" was a psycho-path or what if he was some kind of sex offender. Frank knew that it was hypocritical but it was true, its like the equivalent to dirt in prison, you're scum to anyone and everyone if you've raped someone. Even serial killer's are treated better than a low-life rapist.

"Now, during the space of this conversation, we've moved the new inmate into your cell, his number is 1089-134. Play nice." The warden grinned, brushing off Franks previous worries and stacking on a pile of new ones. As he stood, the chair screeched and he paced round to Frank obviously basking in the pint-sized criminal's frustration as he lead him out the isolation room and back into the main room, his eyes gazing expectantly up at the second floor to where the "134" cell door was wide open. Unlocking the cuffs, the officer strolled off without a word, heading for his look out perch on the top floor of which Frank had been moping around on, avoiding human contact when he'd been found and taken to have his shared room fate sealed.
As the inked male stood in the middle of the room, he found that he was split between the idea of whether he should go and check out the new inmate or whether he should just go about his business until the guy came down. He went with the second option, deciding that he'd delay meeting him for as long as he possibly could.

Notes

A.N ~

Ok so guys, this is my first chaptered fic and I thought I'd ask you lot for some help?

Comment ideas if you can, its a Frerard Prison fic and I'm kinda basing it on "You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison" by the websites namesakes •-• and "Let's Start A Riot" by Three Days Grace.

And a rate, subscription etc. always helps c:

Urgh can we just be friends already and fangirl together?! xD

Any whoooo, thankie, mwah xx