Title: Phoenix
Author: Inca
Feedback: Makes me see stars - slasherphiles@y...
Rating NC17
AU Liam/William
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, I just like to play with them
Spoilers: AU
Summary: Risen from the ashes, as an Angel
Authors notes: I apologise profusely for the many and glaringly
indulgent errors in this story. I do not know enough about
medication or personality disorders to be accurate; I only have
friends to go off. I have never been to
California's State Prison,
but I'm pretty sure it won't be anything like what is written here.
Ignore the things that don't make sense, feel free to write to me to
offer your wisdom. But try to suspend your disbelief, people. And,
again, really sorry.
WARNING – In the `
Phoenix' series there will be sex involving a man
who is mentally unbalanced (not in this chapter though). If this
idea offends you in any way, please do not continue reading.



~~~~




`So,' William looked down at his clipboard as he was let in through
the steel mesh door. He poke in what he hoped was a warm
voice. `Liam.'

The man sat staring out the grey metal-crossed window, his face
turned slightly away. His pink lips barely moved. `Angel.'

He didn't look at Will. His hair was longer than average, down to
his jaw and splaying out over his face, obscuring it from view. Not
dirty hair, just longish, flicking along the nape of his neck. He
was a large man, which explained the need for guards to be present.
Sometimes the patients got violent. Will sat down at the table in
front of him, smiling diligently as the man ducked his head and
warily leaned close to the window. Will noted the lack of distrust.
He jotted it down on his notes.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, the silent room filling with his
rough accent.

No answer. The man slowly leaned down so his head was resting on the
glass.

"You don't feel like talking, Liam?" he inquired understandingly.

"Angel." He said, more firm.

Will pursed his lips. "Is Angel what you'd like to be called, is it?"

"It is my name, so yes." His voice was deep and smooth. He spoke
almost in a whisper. He kept his back to the guard.

`Great. Angel. I'd like to start off by introducing myself. I'm
William, I'll be your therapist now Dr Calender has left." He waited
a moment to see if Liam would greet him with a handshake. None was
forthcoming. He persevered.

"I'm hoping we'll be friends. I'd like to help you."

"You want to be my friend." He said bitterly. His nails were bitten
down to the quick and he scraped his thumb quickly across the fleshy
pad of his other hand. He mouthed a word Will didn't quite catch.

"Yes, I do." He said, affecting sincerity.

Liam looked up, and the strands of dark hair fell from his face.
Will blinked and swallowed. The man was extraordinarily handsome.
It was strange to see someone so attractive where they were; it was
not synonymous with Will's job, really. His lips were straight; his
whole face had a seeming harshness about it that affected strength
and vitality. Stubble outlined his jaw. The man looked like he'd
just stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad. Except for his eyes. The
darkness in them was almost frightening, the brown haunted and
sombre. He again looked down through the window at the puddled
grounds below. It was raining. The clouded grey light flicked off
his small brushes of eyelashes, tipping the edges with gold.

"Where's Jana?" He asked. "They won't tell me where she went."

Will nodded. "It's not common practise."

Liam stared out the window. Will heard the guard stifle a yawn
behind him.

"Is she having a baby?"

Will's eyes widened. That was exactly where Dr Calender was. "Yes,
she and her husband have moved away. Which is why she can't see
you." Will wanted to make sure Liam knew that he wasn't the reason
Dr Calender had left. Patients get territorial sometimes, and can
have major adjustment issues when a therapist leaves, bordering on a
feeling of abandonment. Textbook reaction. Like a child whose
kindergarten teacher falls ill and leaves halfway through the
year. "Did she tell you about her baby?"

"Yes."

"Did she tell you a lot about herself? Her family life and tha'?" He
said, unintentionally talking slow and patronising.

"Yes."

"You must've been close."

"Well she talked to me like an adult, and not a child." Will felt
the dig at his methods. The man was sharp. Thunder clapped softly
and Liam searched the sky frantically.

"Dark." He said in an almost whisper. "Dark is when they come out."

Will watched the reaction carefully, made a note and spoke
calmly. "Don't worry about that."

Will had graduated from The British College of Systemic
Psychotherapy and Counselling the highest in his class, and the
youngest too. He had been raised up throughout his life; skipping
grades of high school and had entered the College on a scholarship
at sixteen. Since graduating, he had published papers, chapters in
textbooks and given lectures, all of which were applauded by
practitioners in the field older and more experienced than himself.
Dr Marvin Wilthos of the California State Prison had approached him
on one of those meetings and asked if he would be interested in a
job as the lead prison psychologist, running the entire psychiatric-
criminal ward while also caring for some specialised patients. He
had agreed because the flexible hours offered, and high paycheck in
the package, were suitable for his current book endeavour. One of
the patients sounded exactly like the sort of case study he would
need. A twist on the normal patient.

The man in the room with him who would not meet his eyes.

"So, Angel. Is there anything you'd like to ask me?"

"Yes. How old are you." Faltering eye contact. Will had to stay
dominant, he could already feel if he let Liam slide on anything, he
would have no chance to help him. This man was not the sort who
would confide in anything less than an alpha male. He rolled the
blue sleeves of his jumpsuit up over his lean forearms.

"I'm twenty six." He said smoothly.

"Aren't you a little young?"

William smiled tightly, with no benefit, as the man was distracted
by the puddles outside and not looking at him. Don't let him win. "I
graduated early."

The man made a `well, yeah' look out the window. William was losing
ground. He was becoming a joke.

"Now, how old are you, Liam?"

The man's face tightened and clouded over. He was perfectly still.
Wrong name. Shit. Recover, recover. "I'm sorry, Angel." Liam took a
breath.

"Twenty-seven, but then, you already knew that." He said with a
pointed look at the clipboard and assorted notes Will was
holding. "Pencils."

Will proudly didn't react to the random word. "Well I wanted to make
sure they
wis' correct. Now tell me a little about yourself."

"You have everything there in the file." He brushed his hair behind
his ear, snuffing a little as it fell back down.

Will tried the same tactic as before. "I'd like to make sure it's
right."

"Jana wrote it all. It will be. I was a favourite of hers."

"Does that make you proud?"

Liam looked at him like he had just pulled out a bong and offered
him a toke. "No. I was just saying."

They sat in silence, the water dripping down outside. Liam scratched
his blunt nail over the desk in short motions. He was tense. Will
made a note.

Someone slammed a door down the hall and Liam shrunk down at the
noise. Will hadn't flinched. Liam saw he didn't flinch. Upper
hand. "What sports do you like then?"

He answered, much to Will's happiness. "Hockey."

"Now's that Grass hockey or Ice?'

"Ice." His dark eyes were searching the sky. He flicked his head up
and his hair fell back behind his ears showing his stubbled neck
with a patch of soft pink scar tissue. Will tried not to look. Faced
with the reminder of Liam's crime, he suddenly didn't feel so alpha.
Don't show you're scared. There is a guard; no need to feel scared.

"Ice hockey. I don't know how to play that."

"It's a good game. You should learn."

"I should. I'll put it on my list." He said cheerfully. He wanted to
get Liam talking, and then leave, so Liam would remember that he had
been fun and relaxing, and therefore willing to talk more quickly
next time. "I like football myself."

"Yeah? Any good?"

Will made a faux-modest face. "Little." He said conspiratorially.
Liam smiled. His teeth were large and square and white. His whole
face softened with the smile. He looked so normal compared to Will's
usual patients. Liam was making more eye contact, now. Eye contact
could be good or bad. Bad eye contact would be a brutal stare. Will
was glad Liam wasn't an oppressive patient. He never admitted it but
he hated that kind. The kind that would scream about what they'd
like to do with their mothers or children. Will preferred the
cleaner side of psychiatry.

"Not much hockey where I come from. Not ice anyhow.
London's not
really an ice hockey town."

"I've never been to
London." Eye contact for the entire sentence.
Questioning. "I always wanted to see
Buckingham Palace."

"Well
England's lovely really, as long as you like it cold." He
smiled. He shouldn't really talk too much about the `outside'. Liam
couldn't go there.

Liam's eyes had changed, no longer scared.

"Well," He said, standing and looking down at his watch, "I have to
go."

"That's it?" Liam asked, still seated placidly, almost a little
disappointed.

"Yeah. Sorry, but I'm trying to meet and greet a few people today."
He smiled. He hadn't said patients. Good.

He made his way to the door, Liam didn't follow, he had to be seated
and stay seated long before and after his doctor came to see him.
The guard let him out and he walked past the chain link almost
fencelike enclosure Liam was seated in. Liam gave him a small smile
before disappearing behind the wall of the corridor Will walked
through.

Lovely man, he thought to himself. He seemed, towards the end
anyway, like any normal bloke down at the pub.

Certainly not a man who had raped and murdered his wife and
children. Will felt ill, his stomach chilling at the realisation he
had chatted to a man that had done that.

He sighed, all part of the job.

~~**~~

"He was pretty nice."

Allen looked at him, they were sitting outside on the grounds
together, sharing a cigarette.

"He was. Bit young."

He thought about the man. William. Shorter than him. Pale with
chestnut hair and he wore jeans and a shirt to see him. That was
new. He was used to Jana and her perfect tan coloured expensive
looking suits. Where were his pencils? In your room, he reminded
himself. He focused on Allen.

"How old then?" he asked, lilting the words with his accent.

"Twenty-six." He took the cigarette and puffed it.

"Younger than you."

William's skin was white. Like the good china his mother used to
bring out for company. His voice was cockney and rough.

"Yeah."

Allen had been found guilty of premeditated assault on a man he
claimed he knew was going to murder a girl. Angel believed him. He
wouldn't have before he himself was arrested, but now he did.

Mikael was watching them. Angel looked up and saw him blow a little
kiss in his direction. His stomach trembled. Mikael wasn't that bad
really… every thing he did Angel ended up liking anyway. Just not
afterwards.

Doyle flipped him the bird, which was brave considering how big
Mikael was.

Mikael was a liar.

He wondered if he should draw the bird he could see sitting on the
fence. He started humming to the music he could hear buzzing around.

"So – reckon he'll believe you?"

"I hope."

"I believe you, don't worry."

"Yeah, I know."

Mikael had pulled his cock out and was stroking it. Angel tried not
to look.


~~**~~


Will was sitting in his office, large lovely office, with the man's
file. His office was exceedingly comfortable, as he realised; he'd
be spending most of his time here. The bookshelves were now lined
with his books and the bed in the adjoining sleeping area –for all
nighters or when he was called in, had his sheets on it. He had
duplicates of all his soap and shampoo in the small white bathroom.
He put a picture of he and his older friends from college on his
desk, changing the positioning a few times before settling on a
place.

He had met two more of his patients today, a man who had been
imprisoned for setting children on fire and a man who had like to
rape girls with sharp instruments and leave them in the woods. The
pyromaniac had been chilling, but the rapist had been just as cheery
and agreeable as Liam. More so, in fact. William found himself more
scared of that man than any other patient. He was not looking
forward to their next session.

He shook his head to focus on Dr Calender's notes. Liam's was most
definitely the most interesting case. He seemed to have transference
issues, not wanting to take blame for his actions; he had
constructed a very vivid story to protect his psyche. Will re-wound
the tape of Calender's session.

"I didn't kill them alright? I would never do those things! Ever!
Ever, ever! EVER!" Liam was shrieking though the tinny speakers of
the tape player.

"Calm down Angel" Jana's voice was soft and reassuring.

Sobbing.

"Angel."

More sobbing, deep and croaking.

"Angel, look at me."

Sniff.

"Who killed your family?"

"Noooo."

"Yes Liam. You say you didn't kill them. If you know, who
did it?"

"They did it." A whisper.

"Who Liam?"

Groan, sniff.

"Vampires."


He turned the tape off and looked at the assorted newspaper articles
he had pulled up on his computer.

"... local businessman, Liam Alaise, has been arrested for the rape
and murder of his wife and two children. Alaise was found, early
this morning, laying amongst the severed bodies of his family, by
Brian Novonus, a colleague of Alaise's, who sought out the man when
he didn't arrive at work.

A disorientated and violent Alaise was taken into police custody,
where he assaulted three officers before he was able to be calmed.

Aliase pleaded his innocence, and alleges the murder of his family
was the work of 'vampires'..."


A knock jerked him away from his reading. He rubbed his face and
looked at the time, seeing he had been reading his files for almost
three hours straight. The door opened. The thin pale form of Dr
Wiltho's entered in its silent gliding way.

"Hello, I just came by to see if you were settling in okay?" He
asked. His small glasses perched on the end of his beak.

"Fine, doing some research, actually."

Wiltho's glanced down at the desk. "Ahhh Liam. Yes. How did you find
him?"

"Charming, agreeable."

"Yes." He nodded encouraging more speech.

"Now that you're here, I was wondering if you could fill me in on
these … `depressive states' Dr Calender has recorded?"

"Oh? Yes nothing too drastic, muttering to himself, sitting in the
very corner of his room refusing to come out. Oh, and Liam hates the
dark."

"Yes, I've read." William indicated the file, disinterestedly. "To
be expected really."

"Hmmm, yes. Well he seemed fine after your visit, was talking
animatedly about you to, Allen Doyle?" the man walked around the
office on his spindly legs, peering at everything and generally
invading Will's privacy.

William shook his head to show he didn't recognise the name.

"Not one of your patients. A man Liam has befriended in his five
years here. Allen Doyle was placed with us after assaulting a man he
saw killing someone in his `premonitions'."

"Right. Do you think I should go to any lengths with this Allen
Doyle?"

"No, no he's fine, he's under Harris."

Harris was one of the other psychiatrists working in the ward. He
was glad Liam had seen their visit worthy of conversation.

"So with Liam, he seemed quite pleasant today."

"Yes often is with new people. Didn't used to be. But has to spend a
lot of his time alone, away from the other inmates, so he's always
looking for friends."

Will frowned, and picked up one of Liam's files. "Why's that? The
loneliness?"

Wiltho's smiled indulgently. "Come now, Doctor, surely you are not
naïve of the presence of same sex relations in a prison?"

William felt his eyes bug at the realisation of what Wiltho's was
saying. He tried not to show it. He remembered Liam's face, how
handsome he was. And he remembered prison movies he'd seen, that's
all he had to go off really.

"We had terrible trouble with him when he first came. Twenty-two and
a very attractive man, he drew a lot of … attention. He had a bad
time of it, till we just had to start separating him from the
others. Allen had his parole pushed back when he attacked one of
Liam's would be rapists. The two became friends afterwards."

William felt sorry for the man, until the screen of his computer
flicked into view. "Wife and children raped, murdered in
Bakersfield". His heart hardened.

"Did he reveal what he is to you?"

"Sorry?"

"Did he tell you he believes himself to be a vampire?"

"No, but I saw it' in the notes. Because the," he scurried through
the notes and started reading them aloud, "`vampires' that night bit
me and I woke the next day. I rose from the ashes." Explains his
name."

"Yes. Angel." Wiltho's smiled. "I'll leave you to it, Doctor."


**


"Hey Angel." Will said happily as he wandered into the huge empty
art room. The art room was either fantastically painted or a
tragedy. Bright swirls of paint covered one wide wall, the rickety
wooden tables coloured likewise. The prisoners had probably
decorated them. Another wall was whitewashed with black painted
writing covering it. A lot of it was profanity, but what looked like
a poem about rejuvenation covered the main part of the wall. Six
long windows spotted along the back wall, where easels and pottery
wheels sat, enough for a big group. A door to a kiln was in the
graffitied wall. All in all it was pretty good, for a prison.

Liam was sitting at an easel in the sunlight that was filtering
through the somewhat dingy window. He peeked around the large canvas
at the voice. He smiled. He was wearing the blue prison jumpsuit,
opened against the heat of the day over a white vest, the sleeves
hanging around his waist. His arms were bare, browned and elegantly
muscled. His chest was wide, and Will found himself vaguely
comparing his own body to that of the man in front of him.

He'd been told that Liam sat in the art room a lot, not wanting to
be harassed by the other inmates. A guard was always with him, and
he liked art, was in fact an artist and art dealer before he was
arrested.

"
Hello Dr… sorry I don't think I got your last name. But I'm always
horrible with names."

"Telleck. But just call me William or Will, if you like."

"Will. Hello." He picked up a pencil and started sketching on the
paper over the canvas. Will couldn't see the picture it was facing
away, but he sat on one of the painted tables to chat to him. A
guard stood behind them, this ones name was Geoff. Will was making
an effort to learn their names. "Come to see me again so soon?"

"Yes. I was told by a few people that you like the art room."

"I do, its fun and besides, there's always good music here."

Will side-eyed the man, noting the distinct lack of any music
whatsoever. Liam was humming to something.

"What, ummm, what are you listening to?"

"Oh, I don't know the name, it's always sung here."

"Right." Will said, amicably, "Who sings it?"

No answer besides the scritch of the pencil on paper.

"What have you done the last few days?" he tried again, trying to
start a conversation.

No answer. Just scritch scritch and Liam's eyes appearing beside the
easel every now and then.

"What are you drawing?" Will said as a polite lead in.

"You."

Will faltered. "Sorry?"

Liam peered past the canvas at him and then leant back. The pencil
scratched scratched across the paper. Will wasn't sure what to do.
Should he let him continue, stop him gently, forcefully? What if he
drew a cartoon and made him look stupid? That would ruin his
standing so early in the game.

"Don't look worried, otherwise it won't be nice."

William pasted a smile on his face. He pushed his glasses up his
nose self-consciously. Suddenly everywhere seemed to itch. He tried
to take the focus of himself by asking Liam questions but was
stopped when Liam answered monosyllabically or not at all, engrossed
in his picture. He kept staring at Will with dark eyes, scrutinising
him.

"Done. So why did you come looking for me?" he asked, idly shading
the paper.

"To chat."

"Uh-huh." He looked at him. "About?"

`Anything."

"Therapy stuff?"

"If you like."

"No, thanks."

"Alright then not therapy stuff. What would you like to talk about?"
Will asked, cordially

"What's your favourite chocolate?"

"Uhhh." William tried to scan the question, as he'd been taught, to
find anything in his answer that could be misconstrued by the
patient. The question was so random.

"Come on" Liam urged, not taking his eyes of the picture. "You must
have one."

"Um, okay, ahhh, chocolate and honeycomb."

"Ooh. Nice." Liam agreed. "Mines the chocolate with liqueur inside.
Good stuff."

William's stomach suddenly growled for chocolate.

"So William," His name rolled around the man's tongue like a
sweet. "When's our first session?"

"Three days."

"Hmm. Cool. I need to pee. Here. For you." He gave Will the picture
as he walked out of the room, the guard following him. "See you."

He looked down and saw a mirror perfect picture of himself, looking
slightly embarrassed. He reached up to realise his hair had fallen
down over his forehead and pushed it back, almost surprised when the
carbon man on the paper didn't do the same. A lot of care had gone
into his lips and eyes, tiny pencil strokes to make his features
flawless.

He couldn't stop staring at it.


**

He made his way round the ward, which was entirely too depressing,
painted in army greens and browns, and met most of the staff. The
guards `yes-sir'ed him and the nurses were lovely and trained well.
He watched them easily subdue a shrieking patient, calmly and
efficiently. There were only two female nurses, the rest were men,
obviously, but the women – Marge and Sally, took the insults from
the patients well, like water off a ducks back, as his mother would
say.
Jana had pulled the number of female psychiatrists to one, but had
left because she had found her patients were too obsessed with her
body to ever help them. Not Liam of course. She had decided to leave
to work at a female correctional institute, after, of course, she
had her baby.

He went back to his office and busied himself with making it more
his own. He picked up the photo of his friends and him from the
desk. Smiling and happy. Drusilla was in the picture, a girl he had
met when he was younger. She had studied to be a children's
therapist, and a few of their classes had overlapped. She'd sat down
and grinned her big smile and asked his age. That happened a lot.
He'd said seventeen, blushing furiously and she'd laughed and asked
if he was going to be the Beethoven of the College. Will smiled. She
would be a good kids therapist, she always seemed to Will like she
had a bit of child in her anyway. They could relate. He didn't see
her much anymore, she had graduated a year before him. He chuckled
at her extra-wide smile. Her smile had been what had attracted him
to her in the first place.
He sighed, at twenty-six his life had finally slowed down enough for
him to enjoy it. From teenage to now, the years blurred together
with study and interviews and papers and articles about him and more
study. He never had friends his own age, finding them childish. But
now, now he just wanted to regress and do whatever he felt like. No
responsibility, just sit and watch the tube or drink. He had started
to relax enough to do those things and was proud of himself. Most
people get a sense of themselves in their teenage years but his were
filled with books. He liked to think he was an individual in the
field, his methods unorthodox enough to catch on, and the creator
young enough to be a flavour that others could chew on. But he liked
his job and that was more than most people had. Liked the people
associated with it, it was a smart field and he often met people on
his `level', as the school counsellor called it.
He cocked his head, and pushed his hair back from his forehead. He
should really get it cut, he thought as he reverently put the photo
down.

His desk was a bombsite, so he apathetically tried to clear it. He
stopped with a curl of his lip when he figured he really couldn't be
arsed. Jana's notes had been thorough, and he noticed a few pictures
as well. He plucked them up and shoved them into a manilla folder,
glancing at them as he did.

One was Liam when he had first arrived. He was sitting in the fenced-
in interview room in the corner, his fingers twined through the
metal screen, his head on his knees. The next was much happier, Liam
in the art room, painting a huge picture of … something. It was
happy anyway, bright colours and picasso-ey looking. Liam had a dot
of blue paint just beside his nose and yellow across his neck as he
laughed, frozen by the photograph.

He put the file away with the rest of Liam's, paper sticking out
everywhere in his messy attempt. He couldn't be arsed really, he was
just gonna have to pull it out later and go through it sheet by
sheet again. He had started going through the reports about three
weeks before he started at the ward, so he knew Liam's expected
behaviour pretty well. He pulled out the drawing Liam had done of
him. It was really, tremendously good. He'd have to find some art of
Liam's and see what he used to draw before … before. He was glad
Liam was creative, it was much easier to get an insight of someone
when they had an outlet, and an artistic outlet was better. He
looked at the picture again and then folded it, tucking it into his
briefcase.


**


Two days later, and Liam wasn't quite the boy down at the pub as
Will had first placed him.

He jogged down another apathetically designed hallway to reach the
sleeping area. He quickly passed door after anonymous door, each
with a little square of enforced glass at the top until he found the
one he was looking for. It was easy to find.

This door was open and two nurses stood in front of it looking a
little out of their depth. A wicked howling was emanating from
inside. A book flew out of the doorway. Will hesitantly peeked
around, seeing the blue sheeted narrow bed in the cream coloured
walls, seeing the disarray of the small shelves and desk. The small
lamp was overturned, as was the chair for the desk.

"Liam, come out." He said firmly.

He could only see Liam's hands, splayed out on the ground. The rest
of his body was shucked under his bed. All bedrooms were single.
William winced as the incessant screeching kicked into shrill. Cor,
he thought, how is he even making that damned noise?

"Angel." He snapped firmly. "What's wrong?"

Sobbing, the hands retreated under the bed. William knew better than
to crouch down, Liam could be holding something in his hands ready
to jab at a perceived threat, could become violent. He leant down
anyway; crouching next to the bed, surprised to see small drawings
stuck to wall underneath the bed. Good drawings. Liam was lying on
his stomach on the dusty floor. The screeching stopped and sobbing
took its place quickly.

"Angel."

Liam looked at him, his eyes filled with tears. He was scared.

"Remember me? William. I'm here to find out what's got you in such a
state."

"Scared, have to hide, God will eat me."

"Why do you say that?"

His eyes were wide. "God … evil, red, done it to, evil blood evil,
have to hide, God will eat my soul." The screeching scream came back
full force.

Lucky I came to work early today, Will thought. Now I get to deal
with this.

"God is …" William was about to launch into a well used explanation
that God only punishes the evil doers of the world, and then
realised Liam classified as one of those and that wouldn't help. "…
merciful. He won't punish those who want to be forgiven."

Liam started sniffling. His nose and eyes were leaking and red-
puffy. His lips quivered. He didn't come out, though he seemed to
have calmed.

"What's wrong Angel?"

He was quiet for a few moments before he answered.

"I miss my family." He quietly snuffled into the floor.

William had no idea what to say to that. He watched Liam begin to
talk to the floor animatedly.

"No. no, I cant. Stop it. Play that."

"Angel?"

Chocolate eyes flicked back to him, vacant and innocent, bright with
tears.

"Do you want to come out?"

"Dark."

Will looked up at the
eleven o'clock sun streaming through the small
square window set into the bricks. "Not dark, Angel, its bright."

Liam looked distrusting, but he peeked out from the bed. After
finding that it was indeed sunny, he slithered his long body out
from the bed, but immediately stood near the wall, crossing his arms
over his chest as if he were cold, his head down, eyes flicking up
to watch Will. He was just wearing sweatpants and a wifebeater, and
Will could see the smooth skin of his arms was covered with fresh
little welts.

"What are they?" He asked pointing.

Liam looked down at his arms and swivelled away, so he was facing
the corner of the room, his back still hunched. He crossed his arms
again and fine lines of his large flat shoulder blades slightly bent
out around the cut of the vest. His spine was lightly protruding as
well, the knobbles disappearing under the white cotton and up into
his messy hair. A few dark lines of a tattoo on Liam's right
shoulder blade poked out. Curled lines.

William swallowed. If he was an artist this is what he would draw.



~~**~~

"Shut up whore or the vampires will get you." Mikael said in his
strange accent.

Angel was scared of the vampires. He was quiet. He sat down on the
ground, feeling a little more than worried that no one could see
them, and even more worried because there was no music here. Ben
pulled his cock from his pants and put his boot on Angel's shoulder
pushing him down on the ground. He yanked at his cock.

"Are you a whore Angel?"

He nodded.

"Good whore."

~~**~~



Liam was already sitting in one of the wire fenced in interview
rooms, the same one as when they first met when William arrived the
next day. He looked nervous. He hadn't spotted Will yet and his
chewed fingernails were back tapping quickly on the desk. He stared
out the window, slouching in his dark jumpsuit.

"Hey Angel."

Liam looked up, eyes circled with dark.

"Hey." He said quickly.

William took his time sitting. Liam seemed a little different every
time he saw him. "So Angel, today I want to talk about you."

"Nah." He didn't take his eyes off whatever they were fixed on out
the window.

Will faltered but started again. "Okay what do you want to talk
about?"

"You."

"Alright, then we'll talk about me for a while and then you. Agreed?"

Liam searched Will's hands with his eyes and then nodded hesitantly.
He pulled feet onto the chair he was in so he was sitting with his
knees near his chest. He was trying to steal glimpses of William,
and his face was set in an anxious frown.

"What do you want to know?" Will asked openly.

"What are your parents like?"

Will quickly scanned the question. Could he answer it neutrally?
Yes, possibly.

"My mother and I are very close. My father left us when I was very
young."

"Is that why you're a fag?"

Liam stared at him, a grin came onto his face when Will
blanched. "That's not a suitable word for us Angel." Damn it, Liam
had set him up to be shocked by that question, it came out of
nowhere.

"Alright. I apologise if you're offended by homosexuals."

Great, he was trying to rile him up. He'd play.

"I am not offended by homosexuals."

Liam smiled, believing he had him, bouncing slightly. "So you are
one then?"

"Yes." Will answered blithely.

Liam's smile dropped from his face. He stared at Will to see if he
was joking. The white face was impassive.

"Are you really?"

"What do you think?"

Liam shrugged. He picked at his chair. By the way he was jiggling
he'd obviously been given some pep pills without Will's knowledge or
consent. Will didn't like that, but he'd get to it later, just in
case Liam had bargained for them in the yard.

"I'm bisexual." Liam offered, his fingernail in his mouth as he
watched Will's reaction closely.

Will was surprised but he didn't let it show. Nowhere in Jana's
notes had it suggested that Liam was anything other than straight.
Was he lying? Was he attracted to him? That could definitely be a
bad thing.
Maybe it was a joke. William had to analyse Liam so much harder than
everyone else. Every word he uttered seemed to have a hidden meaning.

"What does that mean to you?"

"I like men and women. Sexually."

Liam was staring at him. Will sighed inwardly. He liked Liam, he
hoped Liam didn't try any sexual advances, he never felt right
treating someone who tried to seduce him.

Easy to find out.

"I'm a man, are you attracted to me?"

"Yes." Dark brown gaze fixed placidly on his own. William felt an
unwelcome squiggle in his belly.

"Are you attracted to many men?"

"No."

"Do you understand we can't have a sexual relationship?"

"Yes." Same gaze.

"Good." He smiled.

"Would you have sex with me?"

He frowned. "I thought we just said –"

"Not `will' you `would' you?" Pretty face cocked to the side and
staring at him quizzically.

"Hypothetically?"

"Yes." He'd stopped jiggling erratically.

Will smiled. "I guess we'll never know."

Liam slapped the table sudden and angrily, making the guard snap to
attention and Will draw back in his seat. The anger lost, he sat
back calmly and looked at the floor. "I guess." He said cheerily.

William cursed his nature to be a smart-arse. He could've shoved the
walls up forever with that stunt.
William decided to try and soften the blow, thinking Liam could've
just been angry at the rejection.

"Thankyou for your picture of me. It was wonderful. I took it home."

"I'm glad." He was staring at his nails now, wide eyes his forehead
raised into crinkles.

"You used to be an artist?"

"That didn't change."

"So you still like to draw?"

Liam looked at him eyes jumping around Will's face. "I use pencils
the most. I still draw."

"I asked if you still enjoyed it."

"Yeah."

"Will you show me other pictures you've drawn?"

"Maybe."

"I hope so. You're very talented."

Liam was jiggling up and down almost sickeningly. His eyes were cold
and empty, and he was starting to shiver in the warm room.

This was not expected behaviour; Liam had a very accessible
personality. Warmed up quickly.

"Angel?"

"Hmmm?"

"You do realise taking anyone else's medication can seriously affect
your treatment and your health?"

"Yes."

"You've been taking something that is not prescribed to you."

"Yes."

Will nodded.

"Hmmm, what is it?"

"Don't `member."

"Alright. I'll explain to you, because I don't know if Jana ever
did, but you are not on strong anti depressants as they don't react
well with what you really need to be taking to control your…
tendency to see things that aren't there. Those are anti-psychotics,
the little blue pills you take. But, if anything stressful happens
you feel very bad on those, so that's why there's me, so you can
tell me, if something bad has happened, something that would cause
you to need a pick-me-up, so to say. Then I can alter what you're
taking."

He continued jiggling. His chair was clicking as he moved, like an
extremely fast metronome.

"I'm a whore."

"Alright, why do you think that?"

He stood slowly, pushing his chair back with his legs and pulled the
jumpsuit down dreamily. Across his left pectoral the word `whore'
had been scratched in deep and covered with black ink. It was fresh;
the skin around the cuts still reddened.

"Did you do that?" he asked as Liam slipped back into his jumpsuit
clumsily.

He shook his head playfully. Will understood now why he'd been so
focused on sex since he got here.

"Who did that?"

Will hoped he didn't say vampires.

"Round the back of the grounds."

"The guards didn't see?"

He shook his head, still smiling.

"Who were the men?"

"Nah."

"Yes, Angel, tell me, come on."

His face slipped from its cheery mask to that of a bare, ghastly
haunted look, then back to the cheerfulness.

"They told me to be quiet, and I was cause I didn't want the
vampires to hear me, so I sat on the ground. He kicked me back and …
do you have any pens?"

"Angel. Come on, now I said I'd answer things about me, if you'd
answer about you. Now what were the names of the men?"

"Ben Sunder and Mikael."

"Good, Angel, that's great, you did a good thing by telling me."

Liam looked proud. He was looking very sleepy, but still jiggling up
and down.

"Okay, I have to go now, but I'll see you soon, alright?"

"Alright." He put his arms onto the desk and laid his shaggy head on
them. The top half of his body looked asleep but his legs were
twitching under the desk.

William took the guard aside out of Liam's earshot.

"Hey, sorry mate, what's your name?"

"Barry." The heavyset man said, puffing up with importance of being
pulled aside by the boss.

"Hi Barry, Will." They shook hands.

"Now do you know a Ben Sunder and Mikael? They exist?"

"Yep." He seemed less than happy with the names. "And seems like ol'
Liam would be telling the truth about what they did."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, he seems to wander off with people."

"No ones watching him? I thought he had a guard all the time."

"No no, you got that wrong," Barry smiled. He looked in at Liam who
appeared to be sleeping, his back rising and falling in a slow
rhythm. "He's only got a guard when hes not with anyone else. Liam's
not dangerous, not on his meds anyway, sad fact is we got to look
after him most of the time. Protect him from the others."

Will decided not to bring up the obvious tone of affection that
Barry seemed to have for a murderer.

"Okay great, whose care are they under?"

"Harris and Everett."

"Great." He gestured to Liam. "Take him down to a nurse, get him
checked out."

The guard nodded, opened the door and gently woke Liam up. Will
heard his sleepy murmurs as went to find Harris.

*

"Hey William." The happy smile fell from the mans face, "You look
worried. What's wrong so early on?"

"I have reason to believe Liam Alaise has been raped." Will said
quietly as he entered the staff kitchen.

Harris nodded. He was tall and strong looking, with black hair that
seemed to want to curl. He looked about thirty-five, and he stirred
his tea like it was a Zen exercise.

"Uh-huh. And what else is new?"

Will blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Look it's nothing new. It happens every couple of weeks maybe more.
We can never seem to stop it." He nodded. "Mikael Suderson? Did I
guess right?"

"Yes, one of them." Will frowned.

Harris nodded and picked up his tea. "He's my patient. Since Liam
arrived five years ago has become steadily more obsessed with him.
Draws pictures of him, writes poems for him, steals his cutlery
after hes used it, his underwear and clothes. Just between you and
me of course, ethical problems and that, but all his sessions tend
to revolve around Liam and how much he needs to be …defiled and what
he'd like to do to him. Trust me, some of the stuff is not nice.
Found him many times holding poor Liam down in the hall way with his
friends while he … yeah."

"He must be a big man."

"6'5. Exceedingly hard to treat." He leant forward. "Some of the
guards are afraid of him."

"Ah. I hope that's not why Liam keeps getting abused."

"No, no, course not. Just, Liam tends to walk off with Mikael.
Mikael's nice to him for a while and Liam trusts him, then Mikael
turns on him. And over and over."

He rolled his eyes in an exasperated helplessness. William burned.
How dare this man just give up and roll his eyes? What an ass.

"Alrigh'. Just though'd you should know." Will sniffed, his accent
roughening in his distaste.

"I'll bring it up next session, increase his sedatives."

*

He found the first aid room and walked in, immediately averting his
eyes. Apparently prison patients didn't receive all that much
privacy. Liam was lying back on one of the beds wearing only the
white vest of his uniform; his knees pulled up to his chest as
Sally, a weighty nurse of about thirty, pushed a gloved finger into
his rectum. His lean thighs were twitching and Will didn't dare look
at anything else in that region. Barry was there, not watching but
still very much in the room, along with two other male nurses.

"Well done, you can get dressed now, sweetheart." She bubbled as she
flicked the glove off.

Liam pulled his long body off the bed and tried to hazily push his
legs into his cotton boxers. Sally pulled Will aside as she wrote up
the report.

"Yeah he's had sex all right, rough sex, rectal and anal tearing,
he's swollen, semen inside him's still wet so it was this morning or
very recently." She whispered as she scribbled notes into a folder.

Will looked back at him, the nurses were helping him back into the
prison suit.

"Drugs he took were Ben Sunders'. A clinically depressed we have
here. Explains why hes been so jittery this morning but now the
highs wearing off so it'll be night-night for him soon. They didn't
give him many so it shouldn't affect him much more than this. Sent
blood off with Marge for an HIV test. Anything else you want me to
do, Doctor?"

"No, `at's fine. Thankyou."

He and Barry took Liam back to his room his arms draped over their
shoulders. Liam was coming down hard. He put him on the narrow bed
and nodded for Barry to leave. He did so, with a salute, which Will
smirked at.

His smile slid off when he looked down at the still body lying on
the bed. He stood and reached up to close the curtains on the
window, before resting on his haunches, looking into Liam's face. He
was lying on his chest, his hands up near his chin.

"Angel? You want to tell me abou' it?"

"About what?" he asked quietly.

The air conditioning was chilly, Will felt his skin prickling.

"Abou' what happened this morning with Mikael."

Liam murmured the word `whore' into his pillow.

"No. You're not." He put his hand on the back of Liam's shoulder,
even though he knew he shouldn't. Anyone could scream sexual
harassment these days. "You were a victim. It was done to you."

"I feel sick."

"That's probably `cause you took someone else's medication."

"I feel sick."

"Yes." Will rubbed his shoulder soothingly and Liam relaxed into the
touch. He made a breathy sound of pleasure into the cover and Will
snatched his hand away.

"If you want to talk. Ask to come see me."

Liam started snoring.

Will sighed.



**

He was on a boat. A huge boat. Doyle was there, but he was lying on
the deck his eyes glassed over and yellow.
He was dead. A fly buzzed into his open mouth. Angel ran. He looked
up and the sky was black, the waves were blood and hairless bodies
floated face down in it. As the ship slowly floated through them,
thuds echoed into the emptiness as the cadavers hit the bow and
bobbed away in the wake. Angel tried to find someone but the liner
was empty. He looked out across the horizon.
A huge black shiny fleshed animal breached the blood waves in the
distance, before ducking back down. Angel panted in fright. He tried
to get inside but the doors were locked. He used his shoulder to ram
a door and it opened, but blood splashed out. More hairless bodies
lay inside. He felt a jolt and grabbed the doorframe. He ran back
out onto the deck and saw the front of the boat slowly gurgling into
the crimson waves.

The boat was sinking.

Liam screamed.


**

Will decided to go home at about
10PM. He worried about Liam, who,
over the course of the past week, had fast become his favourite
patient.

Even though he didn't have favourites.

He smiled at himself in his bathroom mirror, shaking his head. He'd
settled in at his new job nicely. He plucked whisky off the side
table and poured himself a few fingers. Wandering into his huge
bedroom he noticed a rectangle of paper of his bed. The picture. He
had been looking at it the last time he was at home. He picked it
up. It really was admirable, Liam was unmistakably skilled. He
sipped some of his whisky as he studied it and yawned. Alcohol
always made him sleepy.

He sat on the bed and thought about the session, the ghosted echoes
of their voices flitting through his head.

("I'm a man, are you attracted to me?" "Yes.")

Before he fell asleep, he convinced himself the buzz in his stomach
was from the alcohol.

 

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