Ten minutes… Ten fuckin' minutes then there'd be no turning back, 5:00, lockdown. He'd be safe for the night, safe from the junk, and safe from himself.

Keller hadn't even looked up as he briskly passed on the way to his pod. He smiled though, casually touching his cock under the table, Ryan the only one in a position to see.

*Fuckin' cold ass bastard…*

Ryan tried to moisten his caked and cracking lips but his tongue was just as dry. Pinched three orange drinks from the kitchen and still couldn't get that fuckin' bitter taste out of his mouth, Chris' taste.

He looked toward the sink. *Too far away… too fuckin' cold. *

Shakes violently wracked his body. They had started hours ago and hadn't let up since. His breath shuddered while his muscles convulsed like he was naked in a snowstorm leaving him feeling beaten and bruised. Ryan had been through it before and knew that only one of two things would end his pain, time or more tits.

He wrapped himself tighter in his blanket. Nine minutes…

His stomach turned as he heard the curt rap on the pod glass. Knew who it was without looking. Like Toby, Keller had this presence that seemed to announce him long before he ever showed up.

Inviting himself in, Chris entered the pod. *First undeniable sign that he lost respect. *

Chris studied Ryan's gaunt and pale face; it looked almost white against the dark green/gray of the scratchy wool blanket. His damp dark hair matted against his scalp as perspiration cascaded down his forehead.

"Hey, you didn't stop by…" Chris almost sounded concerned, but stopped himself mid sentence, mild insult creasing his brow as, while staring at the vast nothing in front of him, Ryan continued to tremble with chill and fatigue paying no attention to him.

Cocking his head, Chris listened to Ryan's chattering teeth as he closed the distance between them; so casual, so insouciant. "Hey, earth to O'Reily…"

Ryan's shaking just grew more violent forcing him to burrow deeper into the blanket. This was a particular trait of Keller's that Ryan had always found disturbing. The man seemed to have no remorse, no idea that he had even done wrong.

In Chris' mind, he and Ryan had come to an understanding, bonded even, but as Ryan continued to disregard him, Chris' demeanor abruptly changed.

*Rather go through this than to come to me? Fuck you, O'Reily. *

Tossing the bag onto the mattress, Chris spat angrily. "And to think I almost felt sorry for you. I told you it was a freebie!"

Unflinching, Ryan looked at the bag lying in front of him on the blanket. *Oh, so you're not a liar, just a crazy fuckin' rapist. My mistake. * Still, he remained silent.

The quick conversation was one sided, Ryan only half hearing the harsh words, wincing only slightly whenever Chris would lean in trying to force eye contact. "…didn't fuckin' force you the second time… was *you* suckin' *my* dick, O'Reily… could a' fuckin' killed you… … low life user… Next time, Ryan, …not so fuckin' nice."

He stared at the bag for a long time after Chris left. *Next time* echoing clearly through his mind. No question, he was going to snort it.

"Count…"

Ryan wasn't sure if he could stand, much less walk, but if he didn't get in line it would cause a scene and earn him an instant trip to the infirmary.

*They'd strap him down in restraints. He wouldn't have his junk, have to go through withdrawal in front of Gloria. She'd probably give him a thorough physical too… Find out that… Find out…*

Unsteadily, he slid from the cot, standing for a moment as he tested his legs. Rubber bands.

Slowly he moved into line outside of his pod. *Murphy. Good…and bad. * Murphy'd know at a glance that he was all fucked up and sick. He'd insist on taking Ryan to the infirmary, but Murphy he could bargain with. Any other hack would drag his ass kicking and screaming.

A sudden wave of dizziness caused him to sway and subtly collapse upright against his pod. "97P904…" Murphy glanced up from his clipboard, got one look at Ryan and… "Fuck, O'Reily, what the…"

"F-flu," he tried stating nonchalantly but broke out into a coughing fit.

Murphy looked him over curiously noting that Ryan's eyes didn't contain the fever-glassed look that went along with the flu; rather, they were dull, his skin pasty not flushed with temperature. Reaching out, Murphy took him by the arm. "Come on, I'm taking you to the infirmary."

Ryan pulled his arm away sharply. "Nah, I'll be fine. Just need some sleep." He waited for the okay, watched as Murphy made up his mind to let him wait it out then turned for his pod, Murphy watching as he struggled to climb into bed.

"Mineo!" Gesturing for the older C.O. to take his place, Sean handed the clipboard to his colleague and entered Ryan's pod.

"What's up, O'Reily," he asked pulling the blankets down as Ryan slid beneath. "You get a hang nail and insist you'll die if I don't take you to see Dr. Nathan, now, you look like death warmed over and suddenly you don't want to go? What gives?"

He couldn't will his body to stay still. Ryan rolled away from the C.O. clutching the bag underneath his pillow as the bunk rattled beneath him. He flinched as Murphy's hand skimmed across his forehead. "You're on fire, Ryan."

"Don't…" It sounded as though he was going to say more but swallowed it.

Murphy waited, but Ryan only settled further into the mattress trying to warm his exposed skin. After a minute of silence, Murphy pulled the blankets up around Ryan's shoulders and leaned in.

"All right, but if you're not any better by tomorrow, I'm taking you to the infirmary. Got me?"

Murphy sighed deeply at the inmate's reserve and added quietly. "You need something during the night, let Mineo know. I'll leave word with him to keep an eye on you." He paused but still there was no answer. "See you in the morning, Ryan."

****************************

Downstairs, Keller listened curiously to the silence. He knew that the disruption was most likely due to O'Reily's appearance and smiled inwardly. In his current state, Ryan would never give him up.

****************************

"What's going on between you and O'Reily?" Toby's voice echoed off of the ceiling of the darkened pod.

Chris stared up at the bottom of Beecher's bunk. "Nothing."

"Didn't look like nothing at breakfast."

"Checkin up on me Beech? I'm flattered." Chris smiled, before deciding to turn the tide of the conversation. "Or were you checkin' up on him?"

"Chris…" Toby's tone was curt, his temper growing short.

"It was just some business, Beech," he sighed in annoyance.

"What sort of business?"

Fuck, he should have known that Toby wouldn't let it go. "None of yours, Beecher, now go to sleep."

"Chris, anytime you and Ryan do business, bad shit happens."

"Tobe, do me a favor, if you're gonna' keep flappin' your gums, put that mouth of yours to some good use, huh? If not, shut the fuck up and go-to-fuckin'-sleep."

Rolling over, Toby pulled the blankets up around his neck. He hated the way that Chris ran hot and cold. One minute he was the most gentle lover that Toby had ever known and the next, a cold hearted asshole. It was like an illness…

"Fuck you, Chris."

"Love you too, Tobe. Night."