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Prison Break AU

Chapter Text

The quiet steady buzz of the machine filled the small dimly lit room of the tattoo parlour, as the tattooist covered the last remaining patch of skin on the customers’ arm with ink.

The machine gave out one last buzz then stilled. The tattooist gave out a sigh as she wiped a thin sheen of sweat from her brow.

“That's it. Can I just, you know, look at it for a minute?” The tattooist sighed happily.

Waverly looked down at her newly tattooed arm. Her fingers hovering slightly over the newly exposed skin a hand of playing cards now adorning the inside of her forearm.

"You're an artist, Syd,” Waverly said in awe.

Syd chuckled a wide proud smirk spread across her face. She admired the tattoo a minute longer then got up from her position putting the tattoo machine down and taking off her gloves.

“You're telling me that you're just gonna walk out of here and I'm never gonna see it again?” Syd said rather wistfully as she moved to wash her hands in the sink.

“There's a good chance of that, yes,” Waverly replied, a tinge of sadness evident in her voice.

Syd eyed Waverly curiously and grabbed a few paper towels drying her hands quickly.

“Most people, you know, for the first one, they start with something small - 'mom', boyfriend's initials, a heart or a butterfly, something like that - not you. You get a full set of sleeves and your body done all in a couple of months. It takes guys a few years to get the ink you got.”

Waverly sat up put on her shirt, pulled out the last remaining hundred bucks she owed Syd handing it to her as she made her way to the exit, as she reached the door she turned around one last time and said:

“I don't have a few years. I wish to hell I did.”


Back in her apartment high above the Chicago River Waverly rested her head on the cool glass of her window. She was really doing this…

She made her way over to the table. Picking up an origami swan she turned it over in her hands. There was so much to lose, so much that could go wrong, this plan - it relied on so much… precision, timing, Co-operation but the payoff…the payoff meant everything.

Springing into action Waverly began pulling all her research off her wall and windows crushing the various papers between her fingers and throwing them into her waste bin. Articles she’d been piecing together for the last year; “Wynonna Earp Final Appeal Denied” “Top Cop Wins humanitarian award”, “Life sentence for ex Government official, Eliza Sharpio” “DB Cooper myth still at large despite conviction,” “Killer of Vice President’s Husbands Death to be scheduled June 12th” among others, maps, newspaper clippings, pages from textbooks, yearbook quotes all ripped away to reveal the large windows overlooking the vast emptiness that is the Chicago River at night.

Removing her hard drive from her computer Waverly opened the door and stepped out onto her balcony. With all the weight she could muster Waverly threw it as far as she could watching as it sailed through the air and landed into the water with a huge but satisfying splash.

So it begins…

All the occupants of the bank threw themselves down to the floor some screaming as three loud clear gun shots rang out.

At the front desk stood Waverly in a crop top with a shotgun pointed at the ceiling, bits of it beginning to crumble to the ground. Somewhere a baby started crying its wails echoing around the now silent bank. Satisfied with the reaction she lowered it so it was pointing straight at the middle aged Bank Teller whose head was lying on the desk.

“The vault. Open it,” Waverly said her voice dead-pan.

“We can't,” The Bank Teller replied calmly her eyes looking up to meet Waverly’s, “The branch manager's not here”

“Where is he?” Waverly asked her impatience becoming evident.

“It's lunchtime, he's at White Castle,” The Bank Teller replied.

“White Castle?” Waverly said confused.‘Huh, that seems like a low end establishment for a bank manager to eat at’ She thought.

“It's a fast food restaurant,” The Bank Teller continued figuring Waverly didn’t know what it was, “They serve those little square burgers,” She made a gesture with her thumb.

“I know what it is!” Waverly snapped.

Waverly fired off two more shots into the air, causing more of the ceiling to crumble and eliciting more screams from the customers. The Bank Teller visibly winced at the sound.

“I'm not playing games. Open it!” Waverly demanded, the shotgun once again now pointing at the Bank Teller.

“Ma’am, you have a half a million dollars cash in your bag, don't you think it would be better if...” The Bank Teller started but tailed off as the sound of police sirens filled the air close by.

The sounds got closer as the police pulled up with a screech outside the bank. An armed SWAT van pulled up next to it on stand-by in case of a hostage situation. A police helicopter hovered over the bank. Waverly took a deep breath and calmly turned around and put her hands in the air now holding her shotgun by the shaft with her left hand.

An out of shot policeman through a megaphone said, “This is the police. You are completely surrounded.”

She certainly was, outside a crowd of police officers stood behind their cars and an entire SWAT team all had their guns pointed directly at her one wrong move and she’d be dead. ‘This is all going to plan’ Waverly thought fighting to keep the smirk off her face.

The voice from the megaphone came through again, “Put down your weapon!”

Waverly reached into the waistband of her jeans taking out a much smaller semi-automatic rifle. Her back-up plan.

“Put down your weapon now!” The megaphone yelled much more urgently. The police and SWAT team readied their guns to fire.

Waverly smirked slightly, and threw down both her weapons that made a loud clank on the marble floor. All at once the swarm of police officers rushed in and surrounded her like flies all trying to make the arrest. Before she was tackled to the ground almost in slow motion Waverly looked up to the ceiling and smiled. I’m coming Wynonna.

The court hearing was a slow process but not one Waverly was worried about, after all it was a clear cut case. Unsuccessful armed robbery. No casualties. If she pleaded guilty she could be let off with a lengthy probation order instead of a sentence. But that wasn’t what Waverly wanted. No she needed to play her cards carefully to get the sentence she wanted.

On the first day she had stated she wanted to submit a plea of no contest. That had raised shock among the courtroom, a plea of no contest, It was basically suicide. If that was what she pleaded then she could kiss goodbye to the remainder of her twenties as she’d be spending it in prison.

But Waverly had sat back calmly and insisted that was what she wanted. Her lawyer and close friend John Henry Holliday or ‘Doc’ as he was known had begged her to reconsider, all to no avail.

“Rarely in the case of armed robbery do we hear a plea of no contest. Are you sure about this, Miss Gibson?” Judge Cydreman said aghast his face a picture of disbelief. Never In all his years as a judge had he ever seen someone like Waverly Gibson.

He had read her file, a PHD student in ancient history and languages of which she could speak several, AND an architect who worked within a million dollar business. Why would she even desire to rob a bank in the first place was bizarre!
She waltzed confidently into the courtroom on the first day looking more like a fashion model than a bank robber. She was about 5’2 and looked about as scary as a puppy dog definitely not the common profile of a bank robber and yet there was something eerie about her like she knew everything that was about to happen and she was PLEASED with the outcome.

“I'm sure, your honour,” Waverly replied with an air of confidence.

“I disagree,” Doc Holliday piped up, “Your honour, we'd like to recess if we could, my client's a bit confused at the moment.”

I'm not, your honour,” Waverly said with a smirk.

“She is, your honour,” Doc shot back looking at Waverly with annoyance.

Seeing the situation Judge Cydreman cut in, “Perhaps Miss Gibson you should heed your representation's advice. Take some additional time to consider your response.”

“I've already done that, your honour,” Waverly replied putting her feet up on the desk.

Doc turned to look at Waverly confusedly but she just smiled at him like she knew something he didn’t. Couldn’t she see what she was doing? Didn’t she care she’d end up with a prison sentence? Had Wynonna’s final crime finally pushed Waverly off the rails? He didn’t know but this was not like Waverly, the robbery, the attitude, any of it. He pushed her feet off the desk and turned back to the judge.

The Judge could see what this lawyer ‘Doc’ was trying to do for Miss Gibson but she didn’t seem to care - very strange indeed…

He documented this behaviour in his report then said, “I'll retire to my chambers to determine sentencing. Court's recessed until 1:30,” and banged his gavel.

“Come on, let’s go,” the courtroom cop said to Waverly.

Waverly smirked thinking ‘This is going perfectly’ until she happened to glance round as she got up and saw Alice sitting there looking her with sadness and disbelief.

“Auntie Waverly?” Alice looked like she was about to cry.

“I didn't want you to come. Go home, Alice. I didn't want you to see this,” Waverly said her trying not to betray her emotion in her voice.

But Waverly didn’t get to say anymore the security guard had already cuffed her and was leading her to the holding cells. Doc walking alongside her.

“Go home Alice,” Doc said softly to his daughter giving her a quick head kiss before he followed behind Waverly.

As Waverly and Doc walked down to the holding cell Waverly said, “She's not gonna take this well.”

“Can you blame her? She's your niece. She's beginning to get the idea that anybody she attaches herself to is gonna end up in prison,” Doc replied “And she's not the only one who's starting to feel that way, Waverly.”

One inside the holding cell Waverly was uncuffed.

“Will you give us a minute?” Doc asked the security guard.

“One minute,” The security guard said seriously.

Then he left leaving Doc and Waverly alone.

“Don't you understand? You just put the book in that man's hand and he's gonna lob it at you like a grenade. Justice and punishment are the same thing to him,” Doc said his southern drawl starting to pronounce, urgently trying to get Waverly to see.

“I know,” Waverly said calmly.

“Then will you please tell me what is goin' through your head?” Doc said trying desperately to understand.

“We've been over this,” Waverly replied in that same calm voice.

“I've known you my entire life. You don't have a violent bone in your body,” Doc said softy, “And I know you didn't need the money,” He added scoffing as he said this.

“Doc…” Waverly said strained she wished she could tell him she really did but she knew Doc he’d try to talk her out of it.

Why won't you let me help you?” Doc said desperately with a sad look in his eyes.

“You've been good to me. My whole life. You have. But you've got to let me deal with this, okay?” Waverly replied looking into Doc’s blue eyes trying to convey her emotion and for the first time in days Doc saw a flash of true emotion.

“Ok Waverly,” Doc said still unsure about the situation but something in Waverly’s eyes told him there was more behind the scenes here, he didn’t know what Waverly was up to, and he didn’t like this but he trusted Waverly and so he’d keep his word.

The court was back in session for the final verdict.

Given your lack of prior criminal conduct, I am inclined toward probation,” Judge Cydreman started, “However, the fact that you discharged a deadly weapon during the commission of the crime suggests malice to me. For that reason, I find it incumbent that you see the inside of a prison cell, Miss Gibson. It says here that you've requested to be incarcerated somewhere in Chicago as even though you are originally from Canada you feel it has now become your home here. I'm willing to honour that. The closest level 1 facility to-”

“Wait, wait, Level 1? That's maximum security, your honour,” Doc said exasperated.

“I would ask council to refrain from interrupting me,” Judge Cydreman said sternly, “As I was saying, the closest level 1 facility would be Fox River State Penitentiary. As for the term of your sentence, I'm setting it at 5 years, you'll be eligible for parole in half that time. Sentence to be carried out immediately,” He banged his gavel.

Waverly smirked inwardly. Everything was going according to plan.
Fox River State Penitentiary was originally opened in 1858 and called the Joliet Correctional Centre. The prison was built with convict labour leased by the state to contractor Lorenzo P. Sanger and warden Samuel K. Casey. The limestone used to build the prison was quarried on the site. Both criminals and prisoners of war were confined there during the Civil War. The first corrections officer to be killed there was Joseph Clark in 1865.

The prison was slow to modernize. There was no running water or toilets in the cells until 1910. The construction of the nearby Statesville Correctional Centre began in 1917 and opened in March 1925 and was meant to lead to the swift closure of Joliet. This did not happen, and both prisons remained in operation simultaneously for the rest of the 20th Century. Several films had used it as a location including The Blues Brothers, Thief and Red Heat among others.

It was originally a male prison and had been until 2002 when the high influx of female inmates in the Chicago area meant that they needed a prison to put them in and so Statesville Correctional Centre became the male prison and Joliet became the female one. Joliet had burnt down in a fire started by rioting inmates a few years ago killing a high amount of the prison population and had to be rebuilt. The state had used a local company to rebuild it and added a few new additions including new watch towers they gave it a new name. Fox River State Penitentiary.

Waverly knew all this because she had read about it back when she first made her plan. She supposed it helped she worked for said company so had access to all the files.
Waverly thought about this as the prison bus drove through the gates. Once inside Waverly looked around the grounds, it was quite big, a little too big really and somewhere among these grounds and buildings was Wynonna. Wynonna. She wondered what she was doing right now in her little cell. What would she think of Waverly getting arrested and sent here?

‘She’d probably kick my ass, tell me what an idiot I am and that I should have left her to die’ Waverly thought and a shiver ran down her spine. ‘No, she can’t die, she won’t die, I won’t let it happen’

Inside the prison Waverly was moved to the check-in area, where the prisoners had to be showered, have a lice check and given a prison uniform in their size. The uniform itself was tea-coloured cotton trousers, a blue button up shirt, a white under-shirt, white socks and Prison issue pumps. Waverly put them on and was handed a clipboard with a list of questions relating to her health she answered them all remembering to include ‘Type 1–Diabetes’ in the existing health conditions box.

Now finished with her form she walked over and handed it to one of the guards on duty, a tall mean looking blonde woman.

She took it and asked, “Name and back number?”

“Gibson, Waverly, 94941,” Waverly replied.

“You a religious woman, Waverly?” the blonde guard asked.

“Never really thought about it,” Waverly said scrunching her face slightly.

“Good,” The Blonde guard said, “'cause the Ten Commandments don't mean a box of piss in here. We got two commandments and two only. The first commandment is, "you got nothing coming.”

What's the second commandment?” Waverly asked curiously.

“See commandment number one,” The blonde guard replied.

“Gotcha,” Waverly tutted.

“You talking out the side of your neck?” The blonde said sharply her gaze boring into Waverly.

“Come again?" Waverly said confused. ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean’

“I said, are you being a smart-ass?” she clarified.

“Just trying to fly low, avoid the radar, boss. Do my time and get out,” Waverly said carefully.
Clearly this woman wasn’t friendly.

“There isn't any flying under my radar,” The woman said nastily.

“Good to know,” Waverly said partially under her breath.

The blonde guard gave her a dirty look, and nodded towards the door to the next room.
Waverly entered the room to find it was a check-in desk to put her belongings. Another prison guard a tall lanky man with short brown hair was manning it.
He motioned for her to come over.

“Hello, Welcome to Fox River State Penitentiary, if you have any personal belongings please check them in here. Any attempt to smuggle contraband in with you will result in punishment and possibly criminal charges. If you have any items please place them on the desk now,” The guard said in a bored monotone voice that sounded like he repeated this all day long and most likely knew it off by heart.

Waverly placed her things on the desk, the guard pulled out a box.

“Name?” he said.

“Gibson, Waverly Gibson,” Waverly replied in a voice that mirrored the monotone voice of the guards.

“Number?” he asked.

“94941,” She replied

He wrote this on the front of the box with a permanent marker and pulled Waverly’s items closer to himself.

“Okay let’s see what we got here,” He said more to himself than anyone else.

“One suit…White. One shirt… Black,” he said putting the folded clothes into the box

“One pair of socks…Black, One pair of shoes Size 3…Black, Shoe laces…” He said as he unlaced the shoes and put the laces in a large letter marked INMATE before setting it in the box.

“One gold watch,” he said turning it over in his hands and looking impressed with it before he too set that in another INMATE letter and into the box.

“One small tape recorder,” he finished looking at it with curiosity.These inmates sure do bring some weird stuff with them sometimes. He put that in yet another INMATE letter and put that in the box before putting the lid on the top.

“On Behalf of the state of Illinois, I‘d like to clarify that Fox River State Penitentiary does not take any responsibility for belongings that go missing during your stay in prison,” The guard re-iterated for the umpteenth time that day.

“That figures,” Waverly said as she rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“You go through that door to the holding cells,” The guard said in a bored voice and pointed at said door. “There’ll be an officer waitin’ for you.”

Waverly made her way over and opened the door to her new life as a prisoner.

“This is your cell,” The blonde prison guard from earlier whose name she had learned was Stephanie Jones or 'Steph' said tapping the bars.

The cell opened and Waverly stepped in. It shut again.

“Oi Rosita, this is your new cellie,” Jones said poking the woman who was lying on the bed reading a book through the bars.

The woman groaned but sat up, she was a small, pretty, petite hispanic woman, not too dissimilar in size to Waverly herself but much less muscular.

“Fuck off Jones.”

Something she made up for in attitude apparently...

Jones chuckled clearly getting some kind of pleasure from annoying the inmates.

“Good luck with that one, she has a real attitude problem,” Jones chuckled menacingly.

Rosita just crossed her arms and glared at Jones.

“Oh and just so you know…” Jones started with a menacing smile baring her perfect white teeth. She turned, that menacing grin growing impossibly wider bending down slightly and angling her body towards the bars she whispered, “She likes the both” in Waverly’s ear.

Jones snorted. Internally Waverly wanted to smack that grin right off her face, but retained an emotionless expression.

“I’ll leave you two ladies to…‘get to know each other’," Jones said with a laugh then sauntered off down the block.

Rosita just rolled her eyes and climbed back onto her bunk book in hand.

Waverly’s cell was in the middle of the A-Wing block on the second of the three floors. You could see everything from where she was; all the cells, the guards patrolling, even the new inmates coming in from the ground floor below.

“Man, can a sister get some air conditioning up here 'cause it's hotter than a crack ho's mouth, boy,” A prisoner in the cell from across the room from Waverly’s said to a guard passing by. She was a tall black woman lying on her bed in nothing but her underwear,sweat pouring off of her. Her cell mate was standing at the entrance doing the same as Waverly, looking around at the other cells.

The guard, a fat balding white man just walked past ignoring her not even giving her the time of day.

Another inmate in the cell across the way and to the left on the ground floor was practicing fighting in her cell.

On the top floor and to the right, one inmate, a middle aged white woman with scraggy brown hair passed something probably a shank to another in the next cell over receiving cigarettes in exchange for it.

Somewhere Waverly heard a buzz and a prison guard entered leading some prisoners in from wherever they had been.

The black inmate from earlier noticed Waverly looking around, “Yo fish! What you looking at!? You look kind of pretty to be up in here girl!”

Waverly didn’t answer her eyes locked on the prisoners from the ground floor.

“Fish!” The inmate called out again.

Rosita looked up from her book.

“Suggest you take a seat, Fish. Ain't nothing to do up in here but serve time. Ain't nobody gonna serve it for you,” she said.

Suddenly one of the prisoners from the ground floor ran up and stabbed another, dropped the shank and ran off. This set off the other inmates who all started shouting and cheering from their cells, some in joy, some in anger.
The girl who got stabbed started screaming and dropped to the floor clutching the side of her chest as blood started oozing from it. Two prison guards rushed to her side, and an alarm sounded off around the block.

Rosita got up and stood behind Waverly.

“Welcome to Prisneyland, Fish.”

Waverly visibly gulped she couldn’t stop staring at the girl who had just been stabbed her eyes locked onto her chest wound as she flailed on the floor like a fish in pain. The shock over what had just happened hadn’t worn off and Rosita was acting like this was normal!
For the first time since she got here Waverly felt scared.

What had she got herself into?

Chapter Text

Doc descended the stairs of his house in his socks into the hallway. He began opening drawers shuffling through them clearly looking for something.
Not finding it there he went through to the living room but stopped short of the doorway when he saw Alice in there staring out the front window at the inky dark night, a lost look upon her face and unshed tears in her eyes. She turned around when she heard him.

“Oh, hey Dad” Alice said half-heartedly and looked down rubbing her arm in an act of nervousness.

Doc smiled sympathetically, took a quick peek at the clock on the wall which confirmed it was 12am and made his way over to where Alice was sitting. Taking a seat directly in front of her, he tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes a stormy blue mirror of his own and said:

“D’you want to talk about it?”

Alice turned around to face him properly.

“It's not worth talking about,” She replied.

“If it's keeping you up, it is,” He counteracted.

“Oh, it's just... it's nothing, you know? It’s just... Auntie Waverly…” Alice struggled to get out.

“I did the best I could Alice I really did but your Aunt... well she just didn’t want to know,” Doc said softly.

“I just don’t get it! She just sort of rolled over; she didn't even put up a fight. You know Auntie Waverly that’s not like her, first Mom now this I... I'm sorry, I shouldn't be talking about Mom,” Alice said tears spilling from her eyes.

“Hey, now hey come here little girl,” Doc said wrapping his daughter up in a bear hug. Alice now sobbing on Doc’s shoulder.

“Now listen to me Alice it’s ok to think about it, if it's on your mind, it's on your mind, right?” Doc said, suppressing the tears starting to well up in his own eyes.

“And it’s ok to be upset about it, just let it all out now,” He continued whilst Alice shaked and sobbed.

They stayed like that until her shakes and sobs finally subsided Doc rubbing her back. She pulled away from him, her face was now tinted red and her nose snotty but she felt a lot better.

“Thanks Dad,” Alice said.

“Anytime lil’ darling. Don’t repress it,” Doc said softly “If you’re feeling angry or upset you can always come to me ok.”

Alice nodded.

“Now I do believe it is past your bed time…” Doc continued.

Alice smiled, gave him one quick last hug and made her way towards her room. As she got to the bottom of the stairs she turned around and said:

“Love you Dad.”

“I love you too Alice, g‘night,” Doc replied with a smile.


The prison guard opened the gate for free time. Waverly walked through with Rosita in tow and looked around the Fox River courtyard, there was a sign on the fence that says "Sit Down When Shots Are Fired" with a picture of a stick person bending down which to be honest made the stick person look more like they were farting than sitting down. There seemed to be a lot of stuff to do in the free time; Basketball, weight lifting, possibly baseball judging by the bleachers, all of the inmates seemed to be engaged in something even if it was just walking around or sitting on said bleachers. Meanwhile Prison Guards patrolled the surrounding area. In the watchtowers were more Guards armed with large rifles in case of any trouble. It was fascinating.

Rosita was showing her around.

Despite the first impression Rosita Bustillos was actually a very nice woman and after a somewhat awkward silence after the knifing incident yesterday, Rosita had piped up asking her what she did to get sent here and they found out they got on like a house on fire. Waverly felt lucky she had her as a cell-mate than some of the others she had heard about.

“Blue Devils got the hoops, Blacksmith’s got the weight pile, Widow’s got the bleachers, and C.Os got the rest,” Rosita said pointing them out as they walked along the yard. “I'm telling you, the guards are the dirtiest gang in this whole place. The only difference between us and them is the badge.”

Waverly nodded in agreement.

“Some of em’ aint too bad like, there’s Lonnie, he’s ok he always seems kinda bored, he’s usually at check-in,” Rosita continued.

“Lanky brown haired man?” Waverly asked questioningly.

“Yeah that’s him," Rosita responded.

“There’s Shorty, he’s a pretty nice guy for a prison guard,” Rosita said “There’s York he’s a bit crooked but that works in our favour sometimes.”

Waverly nodded.

“Then there’s Haught, she’s the nicest one out of the guards but we don’t get to see her much she’s usually stationed over in medical.”

Nicole Haught.

“I’ve read about her didn’t she win a humanitarian award,” Waverly cut in.

“Yeah a few years back I think, the rumors are she used to be married to the head Prison doctor Shae Pressman, but they split up like five years ago or something,” Rosita replied.

Interesting. Waverly thought and filed that piece of information away for later.

“Now the guards you gotta watch out for are Hamilton, and Jones especially Jones I hate her she’s always going on about my bisexuality like seriously who the hell cares?” Rosita said.

A commotion broke out on the bleachers nearby, two inmates arguing about something inintelliagable their voices raised one pushed the other who stumbled over, she picked herself up and went to retaliate but before she had a chance a further inmate pushed themselves between the two before it could go out of hand.

Rosita eyed Waverly who was looking over at the bleachers curiously.

“I’m telling you Fish you wanna stay away from those bleachers, that Gardiner is sick,” Rosita said seriously.

Wait did she say Gardiner?

“Gardiner…as in Mercedes Gardiner,” Waverly cut in.

“God, no. Mercedes wouldn’t be seen near the bleachers with a ten foot pole,” Rosita said with a snort, “No I’m talking about her sister Beth, head of the Widows. Beth and Mercedes hate each other, it’s kind of ironic really they’d be incarcerated in the same joint.”

Waverly had read about Mercedes Gardiner when doing her research. A businesswoman and notorious crime boss with ties to the mafia. She used her property business to launder and embezzle money that is until someone squealed on her, she was a lifer and now ran her business from inside. When reading on Mercedes Waverly had come across Beth. Beth was a whole different kettle of fish.

Beth and their brother Tucker had a feud with Mercedes over the Will they had been left out of when Mercedes inherited the business after their parents’ unfortunate death. Beth and Tucker had always had an unusual relationship, she was a shut-in and he was a sociopathic weirdo. Their relationship had been incestuous and together they had kidnapped, raped, tortured and murdered innocent teenage girls. It made Waverly sick just thinking about it and she had to suppress the urge to vomit.

“Judging by your expression, I assume you know what I’m talking about,” Rosita said looking at Waverly sympathetically.

Waverly swallowed and nodded.

Over on a table not too far from the bleachers sat a lone elderly woman who bore a striking resemblance to her aunt Gus. How ironic they’d have the same name. Said woman was stroking a ginger cat, she seemed a little too old for prison.

“Who's the pet-lover?” Waverly asked pointing to the woman feigning ignorance.

“She'll deny it, but she's DB Cooper. She parachuted out of a plane 30 years ago with a million and a half in cash,” Rosita answered.

“Doesn't look like the type,” Waverly commented.

“Who does?” Rosita replied.

Seeing someone she recognised ahead Rosita shouted: “Hey, what up, Wholesale? You okay?”

The inmate Wholesale stopped said something to the inmate she was with then came over, she looked Waverly up and down with what could only be described as contempt.

“What you doing with this Fish, girl?” She spat out.

“She's my new cellie,” Rosita replied rather excitedly.

“Oh.” Wholesale said her aggressiveness toned down.

“Wholesale's got it wired up at the commissary. Anything you want, she can get it for you,” Rosita said turning to Waverly.

“You keep handing out my jacket, I swear I'ma bust your grape,” Wholesale said annoyed.

“Girl, you couldn't bust a grape in Napa, with nothing but a set of cleats on. What are you talking about?” Rosita replied humouressly.

Waverly had no idea what they were saying.

“Man, you want to bust your gun-” Wholesale continued, it seemed this was going to become an argument...

“Oh, no, no, now you're talking, talking, talking...” Rosita said anger starting to creep into her voice.

Waverly stepped away not wanting to be part of an argument she didn’t even understand. She looked around the courtyard again, drowning out the loud chatter of the inmates, taking note of the three yellow fire hydrants’, one in front of the payphone, another by the fences and the third about two feet away from her. Looking down there was a drain right by her feet perfect. Waverly casually pulled out a magazine from her pocket and promptly dropped it right on top of the drain; she looked around then bent down and slipped the magazine through a gap in the drain hearing it land with a splat.

“I'm looking for someone. A woman named Wynonna Earp,” Waverly said as she stood up breaking up the argument between Wholesale and Rosita.

“Peacemaker?” Wholesale stated.

“That what they're calling her now?” Waverly asked.

“Yeah. It’s er’ catchphrase or somethin’ asks ya’ to make ya’ peace 'fore she shoots ya, -- snowflake,” Wholesale replied aggressively.

“Where can I find her?” Waverly said.


Rosita took Waverly over to the east wall, from there Waverly could just about see Wynonna sitting crouched against a wall on the other side of the chain link fence on the death row side of the prison quite a far bit away from general population. A prison guard Rosita said was Shorty stood next to her hands in his pockets. Wynonna was staring into space a vacant look upon her face. she looked…tired.

“Girl killed the Vice President's husband. In two months she's getting the chair, which means no one up this river's more dangerous than her 'cause she's got nothing to lose now. What are they gonna do? Kill her twice?” Rosita said pulling Waverly away from her thoughts.

“Is there a way I can get to her?” Waverly asked her eyes never straying from Wynonna.

“Oh, no. The only time those guys get out is for chapel and P.I.” Rosita replied scoffing slightly.

“P.I - what's that?” Waverly said she knew what it was of course but didn’t want Rosita to know she knew. Not yet.

“Prison Industry,” Rosita replied, “The girls that get along together get to work. You know, painting, scrapping, making mattresses, you name it. I wouldn't get excited though if I were you though, Fish. You ain't sniffin’ none of P.I.”

“Why's that?” Waverly asked turning to look at Rosita.

“'Cause Mercedes Gardiner runs it,” Rosita said.

“Ah,” Waverly said turning to look back at Wynonna. Waverly smirked. That’s what you think.

“Why you want to see Earp so bad anyway?” Rosita asked confused. It seemed strange to her that Waverly wanted to know so much about the dangerous inmate.

“Because she's my sister,” Waverly said walking away before she could catch a glimpse of Rosita’s look of disbelief.


Later on back in their cell for lock up, Rosita was sitting at the metal desk in the small squat space writing a letter. Waverly was leaning against the cool brick of the cell wall unfolding an origami swan she had made earlier. She sighed thinking back to the catalyst that caused her to make this plan:

Waverly sat down on the chair in the visiting area of Fox River State Penitentiary. Opposite her sat Wynonna cuffed to chains in a special booth made only for the high risk prisoners. It resembled a cage with a glass widow and an Intercom the only thing separating the sisters.

“They denied the motion,” Wynonna said emotionless.

“Then do it again,” Waverly said slightly aggressively a sad look in her eyes.

“I can't. That's it. June 12th, that's the date, man. That's the date they, er, you know, execute me,” Wynonna said surprisingly calmly for someone who just learnt they were being executed.

“I know,” Waverly mumbled.

“I didn't kill that man, Waverly,” Wynonna pleaded.

“The evidence says you did,” Waverly challenged.

“I don't care what the evidence says, I didn't kill him,” Wynonna countered.

“Swear to me,” Waverly said her eyes filling up with tears.

“I swear to you, Waverly,” Wynonna promised, her green eyes looking deep into Waverly’s hazel eyes, Waverly could see the truth reflecting in them.

“But how did they get it wrong then? The courts, the appeals...” Waverly said spluttering.

“Don't know baby girl. Don't know. All I keep thinking on looking back on it is that I was set up. And whoever it was that set me up wants me in the ground as quickly as possible,” Wynonna replied sadly.


“What you thinking bout’ Fish?” Rosita said breaking Waverly out of her thoughts.

“Nothing,” Waverly said wistfully. There was a silence. “So you never did tell me what you got sent in for?”

“Well… I ran a meth lab but that’s not what I got set in for,” Rosita replied.

“You ran a meth lab?” Waverly said eyebrows raised, “that’s impressive.”

“Yeah. I erm have a PHD in bio-chemistry among others,” Rosita replied her face flushed almost in embarrassment, “Not many know that, it doesn’t really do you any favours being intelligent in here”.

“Well I think it’s pretty cool, I have a degree myself only mine’s in ancient history and dead languages,” Waverly said smiling, “And I’m an architect.”

“Seriously Fish?” Rosita said impressed, “You continue to surprise me.”

“So, what did you get sent in for then?” Waverly asked.

“Would you believe it? Knocking off a liquor store,” Rosita said with a laugh.

Waverly laughed quietly her smile spread wide across her face.

Rosita went back to her writing after that but a couple of minutes later she looked over at Waverly and asked:

“Hey since you’re so good at languages, can you tell me another word for 'love'?”

“I thought you said you have a PHD,” Waverly answered jokingly with a smile on her face.

“Yeah in bio-chemistry not English,” Rosita responded with a smirk.

“I’m pulling your leg,” Waverly said chuckling slightly, “What’s the context?”

“Oh, you know, the I-love-you-so-much-I-ain't-never-knocking-over-another-liquor-store-again context,” Rosita said.

Waverly laughed again.

“Except, you know classier,” Rosita continued.

“Mm...” Waverly said her face scrunched up in thought.

“I'm proposing to my girl if you have to know,” Rosita said smiling.

“In a letter?” Waverly said her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You got a better way?” Rosita offered.

“Face to face works pretty good,” Waverly suggested.

Rosita turned around to face Waverly.

“This place ain't exactly the romantic spot. I'm gonna have her get on the Staten Island Ferry, then once she can see the Empire State Building, she opens the letter,” she said happily clicking her fingers excitedly.

“it's like almost being there…Except for the fact that I won't be there…” she tapered off sadly visibly deflated.

“Try 'passion',” Waverly suggested trying to get Rosita’s mind off that one small detail.

Rosita got up and pulled herself up on her bunk, notepad in hand.

“Oh, ‘passion’ that's good,” Rosita said smiling, “Passion,” She whispered scribbling on the letter with a smile on her face.


Alice walked down the dank, dirty alley way in the city kicking a soda can as she went, her friend in tow behind her the pungent smell of garbage and piss permeating in the air. Alice stopped in front of a metal door covered in graffiti pressing the buzzer next to it. The girl with Alice looked around scared.

“Alice, hold up,” The girl said tugging on Alice’s arm.

“Why?” Alice asked puzzled.

“I don't think I can go through with this,” The girl replied fear evident in her eyes.

“Relax Mel everything's gonna be fine. Trust me,” Alice assured her.

The door buzzed open and a man in a dark grey hoodie with the hood up and sweatpants on stepped out walking hunched over with his hands deep in his pockets right past the girls, they waited a beat then followed him.

They walked up to a silver car parked in the very back of the alley, the man looked around then opened the boot and produced two decent sized bags of marijuana passing one to each of the girls, before slamming the boot closed.

The girls looked them over before Mel handed hers to Alice who shoved both the bags in her backpack and threw it over her shoulder.

“We understand each other then?” The dealer said looking directly at Alice who’d negotiated the deal earlier.

“Yeah,” Alice replied casually. Mel just looked intimidated.

“I want my money Friday. Not Saturday, not Sunday, Friday,” The dealer reminded her.

“Got it,” Alice reassured him.

“I don't want 100s, I don't want 5s, I don't want 1s,” The dealer said with a serious tone.

“Alright I know, I know. 10s and 20s only,” Alice said with a huff.

Alice patted him on the arm in reassurance then motioned Mel it was time to leave. The dealer put his hands in back his pockets and made his way back over to the building. None of them noticing the man stood a little way off to the entranceway of the alley partially covered by a large dumpster.

The man spoke into his walkie-talkie, “It's on”.

A police car sped into the alleyway at breakneck speed.

“Ah shit,” Alice said.

She and Mel took off running to the only other way out of the alley when another Police car pulled up in front of them. They were trapped.

“Police! Put your hands up”


Waverly strolled around the courtyard, her eyes scanning the vast area looking for something or someone. Spotting her target Waverly strolled over casually coming to a stop at a table, at it sat Mercedes Gardiner and two lackies playing cards, it seemed Mercedes was winning.

“Gardiner, I need you to hire me at P.I.” Waverly said casually.

“Beat it,” Mercedes replied not even looking up from her hand.

“Maybe you ought to hear what I've got to say,” Waverly continued.

“You've got nothing I need,” Mercedes insisted.

“I wouldn't be too sure of that,” Waverly responded keeping her voice neutral.

She pulled an origami swan from her pocket turning it over in her hands before placing it gently in the middle of the table directly in front of Mercedes.

“My mistake. Just what I need,” Mercedes sneered, her face contorting in anger, “A duck.”

Mercedes picked up the origami swan and snorted. Who the fuck did this woman think she was?

“P.I, Mercedes. You might find I could be of more assistance than you think,” Waverly said with a smirk on her face.

Mercedes looked up at Waverly catching Waverly’s smirk. She gave Waverly a threatening look her face beginning to turn as red as her hair and mentioned to her two groupies who stood up, squaring up in a show of aggression.

Waverly backed off not wanting to be part of a fight.

“Mull it over. Come find me when you're ready to talk,” Waverly said calmly before turning and leaving.

Now finally left in peace Mercedes looked more closely at the origami swan. There was nothing on it. Stupid thing she huffed to herself and threw it into the dirt nonchalantly.


Meanwhile Inside a warehouse somewhere on the outskirts of Illinois a scream went up. Inside the warehouse was a slab lying on it was a pale, raven haired woman, her grey eyes impossibly wide, mouth opened in a scream, her chest split wide open, blood spilling out everywhere in what can only be described as a human butchers.

“Alright, guys, pick it up! I want to get home tonight!” A dapper looking gentleman yelled, yanking his hot knife out causing the edge of the wound on her chest to cauterize.

A small chubby Hispanic man ran in clutching a file calling out:

The dapper gentleman turned around facing the small man who motioned for him to come over to him.

“What is it Stevie?” he asked as he walked over.

Stevie placed a picture down on the table. Jack picked it up and looked at it. It was a picture of a pretty young blonde woman.

“What is this? A picture from your porno collection?” Jack said with a snort.

“No. That's the bitch that fingered Gardiner,” Stevie said offended, “No pun intended”

“That's Hetty Tate?” Jack said eyebrows raised thinking, “She must have had balls of steel to mess with Mercedes Gardiner.”

“Yeah see,” Stevie said pointing at an almost invisible tattoo on the side of her neck, “Looks like they did a good job at witness protection, even lasered the tattoo off.”

“I thought that punk was gone forever,” Jack said in shock.

“Evidently, someone found her,” Stevie said shrugging.

“Do you think somebody is messing with us?” Jack asked.

“This you're not gonna believe,” Stevie replied.

Stevie handed over the brown envelope the photo came in. Jack looked inside hesitantly then reached in and slowly pulled out a small neatly folded origami swan.


Later that day Waverly sat in the waiting room awaiting her turn to go in to see the doctor. Lonnie had escorted her here and now sat slouching on the chair flicking through a woman’s magazine whilst he waited for the patient in the doctor’s office to come out.

The medical wing was different to the rest of the prison. It was very sterile, the faint smell of bleach clinging to the air. The walls were painted bright egg-shell white and the floor was pebble coloured vinyl resembling marble, a complete contrast to the dull grey walls and concrete floors that Waverly was getting used to seeing. If not for the cell doors between the wing and the rest of the prison, it could easily be mistaken for a hospital. The place was deathly quiet apart from the faint sound of chatter coming from down the corridor where the ward was, and the odd person passing by.

The door to the doctor’s office opened and out came a blonde woman with quite a fancy hair-do for a prisoner. Eliza Sharpio. Another person Waverly needed to talk to. Lonnie promptly got to his feet and escorted her back promising to be back for Waverly later locking the cell door behind him and leaving Waverly alone in the waiting room.

A minute later the door to the medical office opened and a woman’s voice called out:

“Waverly Gibson?”

Waverly got up and made her way into the office expecting to see one of the prison doctors but was instead greeted by a redhead in a prison officer’s uniform whom Waverly recognised from her research as Nicole Haught.

“Take a seat please Miss Gibson,” Nicole said, whilst scribbling something down in a form.

Waverly sat down on the seat and looked over at Nicole. She was gorgeous, Waverly had already known that but the picture in the newspaper hadn’t done her justice.
Nicole’s auburn hair was pulled into a pretty braid that hung off her shoulder, the sunlight flooding into the room from the barred window making a glow around it like a halo, her dark blue uniform a nice contrast that made her hair pop from her pale face.
Nicole looked up, kind warm brown eyes looking over at Waverly with a warm smile on her beautiful face showing off her dimples. Waverly smiled back, eyeing Nicole appreciatively.

Nicole‘s breath caught in her throat, Waverly Gibson was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen in her life. Short and muscular with light brown hair that came down to just above her navel, with warm, inquisitive hazel eyes and a smile that filled up almost the entirety of her lower face. She did not fit the profile of a prisoner. If not for the uniform and the hints of a tattoo sticking out slightly from under her undershirt she wouldn’t have imagined Waverly was anything other than a visitor.

Nicole picked up Waverly’s file and flicked through it.

“So Miss Gibson, it says here you have Type-1 Diabetes, is that correct,” Nicole said.

“Had it all my life,” Waverly answered.

“We’ll be seeing a lot of each other then,” Nicole said with a smirk.

She wrote something down on Waverly’s file then said:

“Now Miss Gibson as you have been informed we give all new inmates a checkup, within the first month of arrival to Fox River is that ok if we do that now?”

“Sure but may I ask why you’re doing it and not the doctor?” Waverly asked her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Nicole laughed and said, “Well usually Dr. Pressman or Dr. Reggie would be doing this but since Dr. Reggie is on permanent sick leave I’m the only other qualified person to do this. Which frees up Sha—Dr. Pressman to take on the more serious cases… I have a degree from working as an army medic, It’s a bit like a nursing degree.”

“Ah. So I’m safe in your capable hands,” Waverly said flirtatiously.

“Indeed you are Miss Gibson,” Nicole asked ignoring Waverly’s obvious flirting, “Now would you mind taking off your shirt so I can listen to your chest?”

“Not at all,” Waverly replied pulling off the shirt and revealing her tattooed body.

Nicole had to admit whilst she wasn’t really a tattoo person herself that was one impressive tattoo. It was an extensive tattoo covering the whole of her upper body that stopped at the cuff of each arm and before her throat, the same on her back stopping below her back of her neck. Nicole listened to her chest.

“Ok you can put your shirt back on, now I want you to take your trousers off.”
Nicole said whilst writing her findings down.

Waverly did as she was asked, Nicole looked them over and tested her reflexes, again the tattoo went all the way down each leg on both sides of the body stopping just before her feet.

“Ok you can put them back on now,” Nicole said scribbling more findings down.

Nicole then prepared Waverly’s insulin injection.

“Tattoo looks fresh,” Nicole commented as she injected the insulin.

“All done,” She said in a soothing tone, “I guess, being a diabetic, you don't mind needles?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty used to them,” Waverly answered. That wasn’t technically a complete lie. After all getting this tattoo had involved lots of tiny razor sharp needles.

Nicole wrote something down in Waverly’s file.

“You’re almost done Miss Gibson,” Nicole said.

“You can just call me Waverly you know,” Waverly said looking at Nicole an open expression on her face.

“Ok Waverly, if that’s what you prefer,” Nicole said slowly a smile beginning to creep onto her face.

“And you are...” Waverly asked.

“Officer Haught,” Nicole replied carefully.

“Haught? Really?” Waverly said with a grin.

“Yeah that’s the reaction I usually get,” Nicole said rolling her eyes humouressly.

“So Officer Haught,” Waverly said wiggling her eyebrows, “What brought you to Fox River?”

“I like helping people, most people are quick to demonise prisoners but I believe that everyone is capable of redemption,” Nicole said with a sigh her expression suddenly somber.

“Be the change you want to see in the world,” Waverly said looking into Nicole’s eyes in understanding.

Nicole looked at Waverly inquisitively.

“What?” Waverly said smiling.

“Nothing, that was just my senior quote,” Nicole replied also smiling.

“That was you?” Waverly said smirking, “This whole time I thought it was Gandhi.”

“Very funny,” Nicole said chuckling slightly, “Sit tight. Put direct pressure on that, I'll be back in a sec.”

Nicole left the room for something. Whilst she was gone Waverly looked around taking in the room, all locked cabinets filled with various medical supplies. Waverly walked over to the sink in the corner of the room bending down to the drain below it, Waverly pulled out an origami swan and slipped it through the gap then walked back over to the bed. Nicole entered the room again.

“So, how do we play this? You hook me up with a few weeks' supply?” Waverly asked.

“Nice try,” Nicole replied laughing, “No hypos on the floor.”

“I'm the farthest thing from a junkie. Trust me,” Waverly said also laughing.

“I got news for you, Waverly, "trust me" means absolutely zero inside these walls. The only way you're getting that insulin is if I or Dr. Pressman are administering it,” Nicole said scoffing.

“Guess we really will be seeing a lot of each other then,” Waverly said echoing Nicole’s earlier comment.

“I guess so,” Nicole replied smiling.


Bryce Cooper walked down the long corridor of the Secret Service Headquarters Washington, D.C. coming to a stop in front of one of the many offices, the gold plaque on the door read ‘Ewan Allenbach’. Bryce enters the office there sat at the mahogany desk was Ewan Allenbach himself doing paperwork, the office itself was very plush, with light grey walls with a portrait of Chicago in a picture frame adorning the wall and a soft cream shag rug covering the polished wooden floor. In the corner of the room was a black leather sofa and a coffee table where Allenbach would sometimes conduct important business meetings over a whiskey or two, the fresh clean smell of polish filled the air tickling Bryce’s nose slightly. An American flag was displayed proudly behind the desk.

“We're all clear on the Earp execution,” Bryce said coming in and closing the door behind himself.

“Good,” Ewan said not even looking up from his paperwork.

“Except for one thing. Father Juan Carlo is not in the fold,” Bryce said cautiously.

Ewan ignored him and continued his paperwork.

“He's got a lot of influence with the Governor. They went to prep school together apparently,” Bryce said nervously.

Ewan stopped what he was doing and eyed Bryce curiously.

“Look, the closer it gets, the more I'm worried that the bottom is gonna fall out of this whole thing,” Bryce admitted his forehead scrunching up in worry.

Ewan sighed impatiently and said, “Well, maybe it's time we arranged a visit with the good Father then.”

Bryce nodded unassuredly, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Look,” Ewan said, “In two months it'll all be over.”


Waverly was not a religious person yet here she was sat in the prison chapel. It was Sunday and three seats ahead of her in the front row sat Wynonna. Waverly had sat staring at the back of her long, dark brown, wavy hair for almost an hour now trying to telepathically get her to turn around. At the alter stood Father Mallick reading out a passage from the bible, from what Waverly had heard Father Mallick wasn’t really too fond of women which seemed odd since he worked in a women’s prison. Wynonna as far as Waverly knew had never been particularly religious either but she supposed when you were locked up in a cell by yourself all day every day with only one hour of exercise time per day in a small courtyard with no one else around coming to Chapel was probably an occasion to look forward to.

"The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and they remembered his words, and so should you. Good day, ladies, may God be with you,” Father Mallick said ending Chapel for that day.

The inmates begin to exit the chapel. Wynonna waited until almost everyone else was out then stood up. Waverly looked at her, she looked stressed. Wynonna began to file out behind the other prisoners when she happened to look up and caught sight of Waverly stood almost directly in front of her, her mouth gaped open in shock, realisation dawning on her…

“Waverly?” Wynonna said quietly not quite believing what she was seeing in front of her.

“Let's go, come on ladies, keep it moving,” The prison guard York said pushing straggling prisoners towards the exits.

“Waverly, Why?" Wynonna said softly, approaching her.

“I'm getting you out of here.” Waverly quietly promised.

“That's impossible,” Wynonna said shaking her head, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

“Not if you designed the place, it isn't,” Waverly said with a smirk.

“Earp. Roll it up, happy hour's over,” York said impatiently whilst walking over.

Waverly smiled at Wynonna and walked out following the other prisoners back to Cell Block A. Wynonna watched as she left before York tugged at her arm and she too was forced to leave the Chapel.


Waverly sat on her bunk leaning against the cold hard wall within her cell watching Rosita pace back and forth frantically her hands in her hair and her eyes wild with nerves.

“'Passion'? What were you thinking?” Rosita said nervously.

“Hey, you went for it,” Waverly said with a laugh.

“Girl probably thinks I’m crazy proposing from a frickin’ prison cell what was I thinking?” Rosita said her pacing getting worse.

“Hey, give it time,” Waverly said trying to soothe her.

“Are you kidding? I proposed to her. That doesn't take time. Si or no. One syllable, man,” Rosita said squeaking.

Waverly smiled. It was cute how flustered Rosita got waiting for this response. It made Waverly feel a little sad actually she hadn’t had anything other than the odd one-night stands for a few years. She thought about Nicole. She was just her type, it’s a darn shame she hadn’t had the chance to meet her on the outside. She was out of reach now obviously. She wondered what she was doing right now? Was she in the medical block yet or was she at home getting ready? Maybe she was on duty patrolling in another block today who knows? Rosita stopped pacing and leant against the wall opposite Waverly, gripping one of the metal bars on the cell door.

“She's supposed to come around for a conjugal on Tuesday. She's always calling me beforehand, letting me know she's coming. This time, man, I ain't heard a peep. You spooked her,” Rosita said pointing at Waverly with a nervous smile.

Waverly smiled back. It was then August Hamilton came into view stopping in front of the cell and banging the bars loudly.

“Gibson, Get it together, Pope wants to see ya,” He said.

Hamilton walked off to get someone to open the cell for him.

“Not good, Fish,” Rosita said worriedly, “No one gets an audience with the Pope. Not unless he's real interested in what you got going on.”

The cell opened and Hamilton escorted her away to the ‘Pope’s’ office.


The ‘Pope’ was a small plump man in his early sixties, with soft, swept back, short, silvery- grey hair and a matching mustache; he wore a grey suit with a red and white striped tie. The ‘Pope’s’ office was almost as big as Waverly’s had been when she still had one, and it was decorated similarly. Duck-egg blue walls with soft grey carpeting. An American flag was positioned behind the desk. The desk in question had several things on it including but not limited to; an assortment of messy papers, the scales of justice, Waverly’s file which he was reading, and a small plaque bearing his real name ‘Warden Randy Nedley’. In the corner of the room was a plush dark blue sofa and a cabinet filed with various trophies, looks like the warden was a sporting man in his youth.

Waverly was sat in front of Nedley who was flicking through her file with a curious look on his wisening face.

“It says here you were the top of your class at Northwestern. Magna cum laude, in fact,” Nedley said seriously, “I can't help wondering what someone with your credentials is doing in a place like this.”

“Took a wrong turn a few months back, I guess,” Waverly said nonchalantly.

“You make it sound like a traffic infraction. Like all you did was turn the wrong way up a one-way street,” Nedley said flabbergasted at her response.

“Everyone turns up one sooner or later,” Waverly said with a shrug.

Nedley got up and walked around the desk towards Waverly “The reason I called you here is because I noticed in your I-file under 'occupation', you put 'unemployed'.”
Nedley pushed some papers out the way and sat on the front of his desk. “That's not true, now, is it?”

Waverly looked up at Nedley but didn’t reply.

“I know you're a structural engineer, Gibson,” He continued.

Nedley got up and motioned for Waverly to follow. He opened a door off his office and ushered her inside closing it behind him. There stood on a table in an otherwise empty room stood a large model of the Taj Mahal.

“Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal as a monument to his undying love for his wife,” Nedley started, “My wife is quite fond of this story. It appeals to the romantic in her. Being married to someone in Corrections, is a terrible job. Wouldn't wish it on anyone. And yet, in 39 years, my wife has never complained. And the worst part of it is, I've never thanked her.”

They circled the model as they talked marvelling the sight of it.

“So, because I couldn't say it,” Nedley continued “I thought, you know, I could build it. Come June, it's our 40th anniversary.”

He stopped thinking deeply for a second “But here, look," He said bending down and motioning to a part inside the structure that was bellied under the weight, “Problem is, If I build anymore, it's all gonna come down like a house of cards. That's where I was hoping you could be of assistance. And for the favour, I can offer you three days of work a week in here and it'll keep you off the yard.”

“Mm...” Waverly said bending down to inspect the structure for herself, mulling over the offer she had been given. “I can't do it," She said after a minute.

“Trust me, it's better for me to owe you one in here than it is for you to owe me one, I can promise you that,” Nedley said very carefully his lip in a thin line.

“I'll take my chances,” Waverly said.

“Then we're through here,” Nedley said defeated, “Guard!” he yelled for Hamilton to take Waverly back to her cell.


“Two pounds of pot? What were you trying to do? Set a record?” Aunt Gus said angrily as she busied herself around the kitchen.

Alice sat at the table her head slumped against the wood in embarrassment she was going to have to listen to Aunt Gus moan about this all day, still she smirked a little it was hard not to the way Aunt Gus said it.
Aunt Gus and Uncle Curtis lived in a large house on the outskirts of Illinois. Alice stayed there often when her dad was working and had lived there for pretty much the entirety of her childhood it was she supposed like her second home.

“This isn’t funny you know, Alice, you could be going to jail,” Gus said seriously, that sobered Alice up. “It's pretty obvious to me, you need some guidance,” She continued.

Uncle Curtis came in from the garden at that point.

“Hey girls,” Curtis said whilst pulling off his gardening gloves.

He put them on the draining board. Gus passed him a plate of food, he grasped it, leant over kissed Gus on the head and said, “Thanks.” He moved to sit next to Alice.

“You’re lucky that I’m still listed as your guardian Alice, your father will go spare when he finds out,” Gus continued pointing her finger at Alice.

“Hey now go easy on her, we all make mistakes,” Curtis said softly, that was Curtis always being the conflict resolution.

“No Curtis she’s gotta learn there are consequences to her actions,” Gus said holding her head in her hands in exasperation, “Where's this coming from, Alice? Last semester, you were getting almost all As and now... It's your mother, isn't it? ”

Alice’s face grew a shade of pumice at hearing her Aunt mention her mother, she could feel her anger boiling over “DON’T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER!” she screamed tears beginning to fill her eyes.

“Don’t you talk to me like that!” Gus replied heckles rising.

“Ladies, ladies please,” Curtis said calmly, “Arguing will get us nowhere, now may I suggest something?”

Gus and Alice stopped arguing and waited for Curtis to continue.

“Now may I suggest we pay Wynonna a visit, maybe seeing her and talking to her will help,” he said looking directly at Alice.

“No Uncle Curtis please don’t,” Alice pleaded tears beginning to spill down her face but Curtis just shook his head with finality and went back to his food.

“Aunt Gus?...” Alice tried looking at her with a pleading look.

Gus sighed and said, “Look I'm about as excited by the prospect as you are but something's got to give. You have got too much potential to be screwing up your life like this.”

Alice nodded defeated, excused herself and went to her room. A feeing of dread set in the pit of her stomach weighing her down, she felt like vomiting, bile rising up into her throat. Everything felt like it was all falling apart. She lay down on her bed and began to cry…


It was visiting hour at Fox River. The time most inmates looked forward to throughout the week. The sound of chatter filled the air as loved ones greeted each other, and families were reunited.

At one of the tables sat Waverly and Doc talking.

“What if they'd sent you to Dwight or Decatur and not here?” Doc half whispered to Waverly.

“I think I'd be doing the same thing there that I'm doing in here. Eating Jell-O, drinking Kool-Aid...” Waverly said slightly arrogantly.

“I know what you're doing. It's not the luck of the draw that you're in here with Wynonna. You forget I know you. Both of you. You two have the most dysfunctional idea of love I've ever seen. What, she beats you up to keep you off the streets, so you get yourself tossed into Fox River with her? To what? Save her? I deserve to know, I loved her as much as you did,” Doc said exasperated.

“Past tense for you maybe. Not me,” Waverly said bopping her head.

“I gave her a shot when I got back from college, I did. Even with all the stuff that was going on with her, I did everything I could to make it work and she threw it away,” Doc said gesticulating with his hands as he talked.

“You ever think maybe she was hurt that you left in the first place?” Waverly said.

“She was hurt I left?” Doc said, “What about when she left with the Bandito’s? She left Alice with Gus and Curtis, she left you, she left me… Waverly don't do this to yourself. Whatever it is you're doing, don't do it, there's a better way. In fact I'm already appealing your case.”

“I told you to leave that alone,” Waverly said anger creeping into her voice.

“I've got in touch with the diocese about Wynonna, the Father may be able to help-" Doc started.

“That won't stop it, it'll only delay it,” Waverly cut him off assertively.

Waverly looked around seeing if anyone was within hearing range. Then bent forward closer to Doc and quietly said:

“You want to do something? You find out who's trying to bury her.”

“Nobody's trying to bury her. The evidence was there you saw it,” Doc said defeated.

“The evidence was cooked,” Waverly countered.

“Visiting hours are now over,” The voice of York said from the top of the room. A bell sounded and everyone in the visiting room got up to embrace their loved ones one last time for the week. Doc and Waverly also embraced.

“Take care of yourself,” Doc said.

“Someone wants her dead, Doc. Something more is going on here,” She whispered in Doc's ear.

Doc broke apart the hug “This is desperation, Waverly. You're grasping at straws, you're in denial,” Doc said sighing.

“Maybe,” Waverly admitted, “But I can't watch her die. I won't do that.”

Doc smiled tightly, he wished he had Waverly’s faith but the evidence was there, the argument, the running away after the crime was committed, the bloody clothing and the gun being found in her apartment. Her childhood years being in and out of juvenile prison and mental institutions certainly didn’t help matters.

Doc made his way to the exit, and Waverly was led back to the cells.

Wynonna was being led somewhere her hands and feet bound by chains limiting movement to a shuffle, the guard buzzed her through the first door, the second door was one with a lock. As the guard stepped forward to unlock it fiddling with his keys Wynonna glanced to the side and almost stopped breathing. There through the metal bars was Doc. He was signing out, Wynonna could only imagine he had been to see Waverly. He didn’t see her and she watched as he walked out of sight.


Ewan and Bryce stood outside a large expensive looking mansion that belonged to Father Juan Carlo. They approached the house, Ewan knocked on the door. Father Juan Carlo himself opened the door.

The Father was a tall thin man in his sixties he had a thick head of grey-ish hair, he was wearing the usual penguin outfit of a Priest complete with dog collar and crucifix, he had an old wise face, on which he bore a smirk.

“Gentleman?” Father Juan Carlo said questioningly.

“Hello Sir, My name is Ewan Allanbach and this is my colleague Bryce Cooper we are representatives from the US Government” Ewan said both the agents pulling out their badges to prove who they were to Father Juan Carlo “would you mind if we came in? we’d like to ask you a few questions on the Earp case.”

“Of course gentleman, please,” Father Juan Carlo said motioning them to come in.

The two stepped inside and the good Father shut the door behind them. Then he motioned for them to follow him. He led them to his office and sat down, Allanbach and Cooper did the same.
The office was dark, the desk and bookshelf were made of mahogany. The seats had red velvet felt on the cushion, long red silk curtains hung from the tall window, on his desk was a crucifix next to it a neat pile of papers and a pair of reading glasses.

“Now what is it about the Earp situation that I can help you with?” Father Juan Carlo said.

“It's our understanding that you have great influence with the Governor,” Ewan said.

The Father laughed “I wouldn't say it's 'great', or 'influence'. We're friends,” He said smirking like he knew something they didn’t.

“It's also our understanding that also you oppose the death penalty.” Ewan continued.

The Father nodded, “I'm a man of God, how could I not?”So that’s what they’re after, they want me to change my stance.

“In this case, we're hoping to suspend that position. At least, temporarily,” Ewan said confirming the Father’s suspicions.

“If the inmate appeals to me for intervention, how can I turn my back on them?” Father Juan Carlo said, the words I’m not changing my stance going unspoken.

“You have a habit of answering a question with a question,” Ewan said his impatience starting to show.

“And you have a way of asking questions that beg more questions,” Father Juan Carlo countered.

Ewan snickered and asked, “Are you saying you won't do it?”

“I'm not a man to equivocate,” The Father answered smirking.

Ewan and Bryce looked at each other an understanding passing between them, he needed persuasion.

“You're, what, 62 years old now, your excellency?” Ewan began his voice sickly sweet.

“That's right,” He replied.

“I would assume, then, that you are well versed in how our government's tax system works. Taking personal capital gains under the church's tax shelter. That would be fraud, wouldn't it, your excellency?” Ewan said his voice still maintained that sickly sweet tone but was now laced with threat.

“I will not be cowed into forsaking my beliefs. Not by you, or anyone else,” The Father said with finality.

“Admirable. Good day, excellency,” Ewan said with a sigh. Shit.

Ewan and Bryce got up to leave since they were getting nowhere with the good Father.

“Mr Allenbach. What is it about this case that the Secret Service is so interested in?” Father Juan Carlo asked curiously making Ewan and Bryce stop and turn around.

“The woman killed the vice president's husband,” Ewan replied calmly.

They turned and exited. “This is bad. The Father should have listened, as that may be the last time he ever makes a decision on anything…” Bryce thought sadly.


In the courtyard for free time Mercedes Gardiner was using the payphone as she usually did at the start of free time needing updates from the outside to keep her business in check.

“What did you say?” Mercedes said not quite believing what Jack was saying on the other end.

Jack was in his office within the human butchers holding the picture of Hetty Tate, still not quite believing that someone found her.

“You heard me. Someone found Hetty Tate. I'm looking at the photo right now. Bitch has got sunglasses, dyed hair, she’s even had the neck tattoo removed. Witness Protection if I ever saw it,” Jack said.

“Who was this someone?” Mercedes asked.

“I don't know, there's no return address on the envelope. There's just this folded up bird made of paper,” Jack said picking up the bird again and looking over it trying to see if here was anything written on it that could be of use.

“Like origami?” Mercedes asked realisation dawning upon her.

“Yeah, like that. exactly like origami,” Jack confirmed.

Mercedes hung up the phone. That little shit. She went off looking for Waverly.


Waverly meanwhile was on a mission of her own. Waverly milled around the courtyard coming to a stop at the drain she slipped the magazine in yesterday, it was still stood up in the same position except now the origami swan she dropped down the infirmary drain was stuck against it. Good. She turned and saw DB Cooper staring curiously at her from the bleachers, when she saw Waverly look at her she turned back to stroking her cat. Waverly walked up to her.

“You’re Gus Westmoreland right?” Waverly said sitting down next to her.

“Do I know you?” Gus asked eyeing Waverly curiously.

“No,” Waverly replied, “But I know you.”

Gus sighed as if anticipating the next comment.

“I knew your husband before he passed,” Waverly said Well she wasn’t expecting that.

“You knew John?” Gus asked curiously.

“You mean Charles?” Waverly stated.

“How did you know him?” Gus said.

“We talked together in Boston,” Waverly replied.

“East Farmington?” Gus said.

“You mean West Wilmington?” Waverly said with a smirk.

Gus smiled at that and said, “No more tests. I promise. It seems you know everything about me. So who are you?”

“Waverly Gibson, How did you get that in here?” Waverly replied pointing to the cat in Gus’s coat.

“First off, she's not a 'that', she's Calamity Jane, and she's grandfathered. Back from the days when prisoners were allowed a creature comfort or two,” Gus said offended.

“I see,” Waverly said. There was a silence. “So I heard you were DB Cooper.”

“Ah there it is,” Gus thought. She sighed “Every new face that comes in here, first thing they hear is that Gus Westmoreland's DB Cooper. I'll tell you like I tell them. You want the Cooper story? I can't give it is to you 'cause I'm not her,” She said.

“That's too bad. I sort of wish it was true. The woman's a legend,” Waverly said wistfully.

“Nowhere near as much as I wish it were true, friend. I'd have a million-five waiting for me on the outside,” Gus said smiling.

It was at that moment Waverly and Gus spotted Mercedes Gardiner approaching them with two burly looking lackies flanked either side of her. Gus looked at Waverly and said:

“I'd put some grass under her if I were you,” Before she took off leaving Waverly to deal with Mercedes alone.

“This thing would go a whole lot easier if you'd just hire me.,” Waverly said sighing.

“What is this all about?” Mercedes said her face scrunched up in confusion.

“Say you were able to get outside those walls, would you have the people in place to make sure you disappeared forever?” Waverly asked.

“What do you care?” Mercedes said aggressively.

“Just curious,” Waverly said nonchalantly.

“Where's Tate?” Mercedes ordered angrily.

“That's not the way it works,” Waverly answered.

Mercedes shrugged and began to walk away, leaving her two gang members with Waverly, the gang members squared up in intimidation clearly ready to beat the information out of Waverly. Waverly was terrified she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t but she kept up her façade. Waverly stood up and stepped forward and shouted “They come at me, Mercedes, I'm coming after you.”

Mercedes turned back around a devilish smile on her face, “Oh I doubt it,” She said.

One of Mercedes lackies promptly punched Waverly in the kidney. Knocking the air out of her with the intensity of the pain but she managed to stumble forward somehow and punch Mercedes Gardiner square in the face, who fell to the floor surprised with the amount of strength Waverly possessed. Mercedes' lackies grabbed Waverly and threw her onto the bleachers as the other prisoners in the yard got excited some of them yelling “fight, fight, fight” and a crowd formed in a circle around them. One lackie held her down while the other beat her with a sock full of what felt like rocks making Waverly cry out in pain. Waverly elbowed the lackie holding her down in the jaw but the other grabbed her and threw her to the floor and carried on beating her with the sock of rocks each blow getting harder and causing extensive bruising. A C.O saw this from the watchtower and shot the ground right next to Mercedes's feet, who had now stood up. All of the prisoners in the courtyard dropped to the floor, except Mercedes who dropped to her knees and put her hands on her head. An alarm went up as guards ran out the towers towards the scene.

“Alright,” Mercedes said to herself looking at Waverly who was coughing and wheezing whilst squirming in pain clearly this woman doesn’t give up easily. The C.O guards ran up the courtyard to seize Mercedes.

“Get on the ground,” The C.O said pushing her to the ground.


Waverly was standing in the ‘Pope’s’ office, nursing her bruised ribs. Nedley was pacing around clearly unhappy with the situation.

“I totally misjudged you, Gibson,” Nedley said, “I didn't think you were the agitating type. Behaviour like that will not be tolerated in my prison. 60 days in the shoe, that ought to be enough time to convince you of that fact.”

“60 days?” Waverly said in shock.

“That's right,” Nedley confirmed.

Waverly looked down at the date planner on Nedley’s desk, “60 days there isn’t enough time I need the plan ready before then,” She thought. “But there may be a way I can get out of this…”

“Something you want to say?” Nedley said seeing Waverly was deep in thought.

“It's just... I'm not of much value to you in the shoe,” Waverly began.

“Value?” Nedley said questioningly not getting what Waverly was saying.

“Mm,” she continued, “The Taj. It would be a shame for the 8th wonder of the modern world to collapse because the stress isn't properly propagated.”

“Properly propagated?” Nedley said, what did that mean?

“Properly propagated,” Waverly continued, “The joints are overloaded. They won't provide anywhere near the shear strength the completed structure will need.”

Nedley walked up closer to Waverly almost in her face, “How much work are we talking?” Nedley said worriedly.

“You want it by when? June?” Waverly asked.

“Yes,” Nedley replied.

“Then we better get started. Wouldn't you say?” Waverly said smirking.


Hamilton opened the small window of Wynonna’s cell in the solitary confinement unit distracting her from her press-ups.

“Peacemaker, you got a visitor!” Hamilton bellowed.

Wynonna’s eyes scrunched up in confusion, who the hell wanted to visit her? The last visitor had been Waverly and look where that had gotten her.
Hamilton chained up Wynonna and led her in to the high risk prisoner booth sealed off from the rest of the visiting area, on the other side sat Gus, Curtis and Alice. Wynonna’s breath caught in her throat, Alice hadn’t even so much as talked to her since before the trial that ended in a guilty verdict. She had to curb the urge to reach out and touch her daughter’s face even with the glass blocking her way.

“She was arrested,” Gus said huffing angrily, making Alice look down in embarrassment.

“For what?” Wynonna said a little pissed off at Gus’s tone.

“It wasn't too serious it was only possession of marijuana,” Curtis said putting his hand on Alice’s shoulder and squeezing it softly in reassurance.

“We just figured she could use some motherly advice before it's...” Gus said trailing off. She looked up at Curtis panicked suddenly realising what she was about to say.

“Gone forever?” Wynonna finished for Gus and sighed sadly.

“Wynonna…I didn't mean that,” Gus said softly.

“It’s ok Gus, I know you didn't. Thanks,” Wynonna said her mouth set in a tight smile.

Gus nodded. There was a silence.

Finally Curtis said “It’s good to see you Wynonna” then he squeezed Alice’ shoulder again and said, “Be good Alice we’ll just be outside.” He smiled again then both he and Gus made their way towards the exit leaving Wynonna and Alice alone.

“Sit down,” Wynonna said. Alice promptly sat down.

“So Dope, huh?... Using or dealing?” Wynonna continued awkwardly.

“What's the difference?” Alice said angrily.

“Definitely my kid,” Wynonna thought.

“You, er, think it gives you some kind of street cred?” Wynonna said. She was so not qualified for this. “You've got a piece of the good life, take advantage.”

Alice scoffed and said, “I have a piece of the good life? Since when? My whole life has been a disappointment. I spent most of my childhood living with Gus and Curtis, because my absentee mother was never there for me. No you were too busy getting into trouble with the law, getting arrested, you even joined a biker gang for Christ’s sake! And Dad wasn’t much better, he was always working late. You two couldn’t even decide if you wanted to be in a relationship or not, one minute it was “Daddy’s coming back to live with us” next it was “Mummy and Daddy have split up again honey,” you were on and off more times than a light switch. I felt like I was on a merry-go round constantly—and you want me to what-now—walk out of here get Straight A’s, go to an Ivy League college, and get some fancy job like a doctor or a dentist?” she ranted her voice a mixture of anger, sadness, and disappointment.

“It's better than being here,” Wynonna said softly, “You've got to realise that this isn’t healthy. I know you probably feel like everything is falling apart right now. I get it. Honestly I get it more than anyone could ever imagine but it’s you who’s getting punished when you're doing the things you're doing. Trust me I did the same thing. Look where it got me.” She gestured around the isolated visiting cell to prove her point.

Alice started welling up. “You know what, you’ve screwed up everything, my life, Dads life, your own life, You’re telling me I should be a Grade A student yeah right look where that got Auntie Waverly, everything you touch turns to shit,” Wynonna visibly winced at the mention of Waverly.

“Look I'm not asking you to love me. I already screwed up that chance long ago. I'm asking you to love yourself,” Wynonna said looking straight into Alice’s eyes tears filling her eyes as much as Alice’s, “You can still put the brakes on this thing.”

“So this is what motherly advice is like,” Alice said quietly tears streaming down her face.

Alice stood up.

“Where are you going?” Wynonna asked afraid of the answer.

“I've got homework,” Alice replied defeated.

“They're putting me to death, Alice. In two month's time, I'll be dead. You get that?” Wynonna said sniffling.

“Mom…”Alice hesitated, “I love you, Jesus despite… this.” She gesticulated around the visitors area, “Despite… everything I love you…” She said feeling guilty for what she’d said mostly in anger to Wynonna over the last couple of minutes, most of it she didn’t even really mean, “But I can’t be around you right now, everything feels like it’s falling apart and I need time to process ok.”

“Ok,” Wynonna said visibly deflated.

Alice gave a sad tight smile then left, and Wynonna was led back to the cells. Only once Hamilton had taken the chains off and left her all alone in her small, dark, grey, cold concrete cell did she then allow herself to cry.


Waverly was back in the infirmary for her daily insulin injection, She was once again called in by Nicole who was reading through Waverly’s file at her desk. Waverly sat down and Nicole looked up a smile on her face showing off her dimples.

“You’re from Purgatory Alberta,” Nicole said smiling.

“You've been checking up on me,” Waverly said.

“I like to get to know my patients.” Nicole said smirking, “I’m Canadian too from Toronto, but I lived in Calgary for a while that’s not too far from Purgatory I believe.”

Waverly laughed and said, “Maybe we’ve met before. You know, drunk, out at a bar somewhere.”

“I would have remembered,” Nicole replied whilst writing something else in the file.

“That a compliment?” Waverly quipped eyebrows raised.

“No,” Nicole said but she had a small smile that said otherwise, “You went to Northwestern? that is impressive.”

Waverly smiled. Nicole picked up the blood glucose monitor and frowned.

“Hmm…” Nicole said her face suddenly crunched up in concentration.

What?” Waverly said worriedly. Oh Shit.

“Your blood glucose is at 15 milligrams per deciliter,” Nicole stated.

“So?” Waverly said internally panicking a little. Shit that’s hypoglycemic.

“That's hypoglycemic.” Nicole said confused confirming Waverly’s thoughts, “Your body's reacting to the insulin like you're not a diabetic. Are you sure it's Type-1 Diabetes you've got?.”

“Ever since I was a kid,” Waverly confirmed.

“Alright. You're not experiencing any tingling sensation, cold sweats, anything?” Nicole asked shaking her head as she did so.

Waverly shook her head no, then the phone rang, the noise was overwhelming, Waverly could start to feel the effects of having low blood sugar. Nicole got up to answer it. Waverly got up and walked towards the window. Outside was a wire that ran from just outside the infirmary window all the way across to the prison wall. Their way out...

“Infirmary... Yes... Yeah, he did,” Nicole said down the phone, “No, I did, and I do, I need him... Okay, um...”

Waverly started to feel very tired and looking down she realised her hand was shaking, she grabbed it to stop it and hoped Nicole wouldn’t notice.

Nicole looked at Waverly, “Great, well, I'll call him after lunch then. Thanks, I'm with a patient. Okay,” She said before she finally put the phone down.
Turning to Waverly she said, “I'd like to run some tests next time you're in. The last thing I want is to be administering insulin to someone who doesn't need it.”

“Yeah. Sure,” Waverly said trying to keep calm.

“Okay. Well then we’re done here,” Nicole said smiling.


Waverly walked around the yard waiting for Rosita to be finished with her conjugal visit. The light headedness and shaking were getting worse. she firstly needed to eat something extra sugary at meal time tonight but it clearly wasn’t enough she needed some sort of insulin blocker as soon as possible, much sooner than she thought, the only way she was getting that was if she found a decent drug dealer willing not to ask too many questions, she suspected Rosita would probably know a couple.

A few minutes later and Waverly could see Rosita bouncing over a smile on her face.

“I take it it’s good news then,” Waverly said smiling.

“She said Yes!” Rosita squealed with excitement. “For a minute I thought she wasn’t coming but then she came and brought me flowers and she said yes before I could even open my mouth, I’m so happy,” she babbled on.

“Congratulations,” Waverly said earnestly, “Look Rosita I know you’re still on the high of your engagement but I need to ask a favour…”

That snapped Rosita out of her little bubble, she noticed Waverly sweating profusely, “Are you ok Fish you don’t look so hot…”

“Yeah I’m fine, I just need to know do you know any reputable dealers round here,” Waverly said wiping her brow.

Rosita’s eyes bugged out with that, “Oh my god Waverly, are you a junkie?” She asked concerned.

“No,” Waverly said, “I’m not.”

Rosita looked at her disbelievingly eyebrows raised, “Well you sure as hell look like one.”

“It’s low blood sugar from my diabetes,” Waverly said hoping that’d be enough to convince her for now, internally she realised right now she did look and sound like a junkie.

Rosita didn’t really believe her but she played along anyway, girl looked like she needed something to take the edge off.

“Well if you’re looking for the best I suggest the Perley sisters,” Rosita said

“The Perley sisters?” Waverly asked questionably.

“Name says it all really, two sisters Mattie and Greta Perley, co-heads of the Blacksmiths, Mattie actually was a blacksmith before she came here hence the name, Greta was a nurse, she stole drugs from the hospital, they’d use them to cook up harder drugs from the forge then sell it on the black market and laundered the money through Mattie’s Smith business, ‘till they got caught, unlike the Gardiners’ they are hardly ever seen apart. They can get literally anything you want,” Rosita said.

“Even prescription drugs?” Waverly asked.

“Yeah even them,” Rosita replied, eyeing Waverly both curiously and with suspicion.

“Fantastic just what I need,” Waverly said relieved.

“Looks like it,” Rosita quipped.


Waverly and Rosita walked up to the Perley sisters, who were finishing a deal with a customer.

“Take it easy, Alright?” The one she believed was called Mattie said after the girl.

Waverly waited for a second before approaching them.

“Rosita tells me you're local pharmacy,” She said.

The sisters looked Waverly up and down sizing her up before peering over her shoulder at Rosita who nodded.

They nodded back seemingly in approval before Mattie said, “What you need, Ma’am?”

“PUGNAc,” Waverly answered.

“We only speak English, white girl," The other sister Greta said aggressively.

“It's an insulin blocker. Standard over-the-counter variety, you can get it at any pharmacy,” Waverly continued.

“You can get that at medical then,” Greta hissed.

“I can't get it at medical,” Waverly said.

“Why not?” Mattie asked coolly.

“Because they're already giving me insulin shots,” Waverly said smirking.

They laughed, “You're one mixed up cracker, you know that?” Greta said her aggressiveness suddenly washed away.

“Can you get it for me or not?” Waverly asked impatiently.

“Only if you tell us why is it you want to keep going back up to medical to get an insulin shot for which you don't need,” Mattie replied intrigued.

“I like the ambience,” Waverly said.

“Uh-huh... is that so…” Mattie said still intrigued and more than a little confused and definitely not believing a word Waverly was saying.

“Are we in business?” Waverly said holding out some money. The sisters looked at each other, nodded, took the money and and promised to have it as soon as possible, then they walked way.

Waverly and Rosita took off in the other direction.

“Is that true,” Rosita said, “You’re not a diabetic after all?”

“Nope,” Waverly replied.

“So that’s why you were sweating earlier, you’re hypoglycemic right now,” Rosita said realisation dawning on her.

“Yup,” Waverly confirmed.

“Then why go through all that,” Rosita said confused, “I can tell you now Fish that is not good for your body.”

“Like I said I like the ambience,” Waverly said as they walked away.

Rosita scrunched up her face in worry and confusion and shook her head.


Back in her cell Waverly sat on her bunk leaning against the wall. When Hamilton walked up to her cell and tapped on the metal bars with some sort of ID card.

“Gibson. I don't know what you did but Mercedes Gardiner wanted me to give you this P.I card,” Hamilton said unimpressed.

Waverly got up and walked to the metal bars taking the card from between them.

“Congratulations. You just joined the ranks of the employed,” Hamilton said gruffly.

He walked away as Waverly examined the card a smile spread wide on her face. Fantastic.


At Father Juan Carlo’s residence, the good Father himself was sleeping in bed. Suddenly he heard the floorboards creak waking him up with a start ahead of him he could see a shadow move across the wall.

“Who's there?” He called out afraid. No one answered.

He sat up feeling scared and confused coming face to face with the end of a pistol with a silencer on it. That was the last thing Father Juan Carlo ever saw as the person holding the gun shot him right between the eyes, killing him instantly.


Back in his office Doc sat smoking a cigarette and slowly sipped at his tot of whiskey, he was working late and couldn’t wait to go home. His assistant walked in she was a small mousy woman with glasses.

“Father Juan Carlo was killed a few hours ago. Someone shot him while he was sleeping. I thought you'd want to know,” She said.

“Thanks,” Doc said.

His assistant nodded her head and left. Doc sat back in his seat taking it in stunned, he reached for his whiskey and downed it in one. He looked at his calendar May 11th circled on it.

“Waverly was right” He said to himself.

Doc got up shuffled through his filing cabinet. Pulling out Wynonna’s case file he took it to his desk and studied it, looking for anything he may have missed.


The next day in one of the hallways somewhere in the prison, Wynonna and Waverly were both on P.I, painting walls, they shared a glance across the room desperate to speak to each other. But then Mercedes appeared behind Waverly her breath tickling her ear. Waverly stopped painting and looked at her instead.

“Kudos, Fish. You've got spine,” Mercedes said almost proudly whilst slapping her on the shoulder. She walked away and Waverly carried on painting.

“Alright, cons, break it down!” Hamilton yelled from down the hallway.

The P.I workers picked up their painting things and begin filing out. Whilst walking back to the main building. Waverly and Wynonna talked.

“I saw Doc come by yesterday. How’s he doing out there?” Wynonna asked.

“OK I suppose,” Waverly said, “He thinks I’m mad getting myself thrown in here with you”

“He’s right Waverly. You had such a good thing going you shouldn’t have let me ruin it,” Wynonna said.

“He’s letting Alice stay with him more now,” Waverly said changing the subject.

“Could have been me she was staying with,” Wynonna said wistfully.

“If you hadn't self-destructed,” Waverly said.

“You think I meant for things to pan out the way they did? I was just being stupid. Hurt. I shouldn't have pushed Doc away,” Wynonna said with a sigh, “Or Alice.”

“You pushed everyone away,” Waverly pointed out.

“I thought they’d be better off without me. Let’s face it I’m a fuck up of a mother. I wanted Alice to be better than me that’s why I left her with Gus and Curtis, but it seems I'm an anchor. I just drag them down with me even when I’m not there.”

“That’s not true Wynonna,” Waverly said, “You’ve done your best considering the circumstances.”

Wynonna snorted.

They reached the main building entered it and handed their painting utensils over a counter to a prison guard. Then they walked off and Westmoreland who was next in line handed her equipment over the counter. Mercedes watched this exchange as she filled in the P.I Register a lackie stood with her.

“Why did you hire her?” the lackie asked her, making sure Waverly was out of earshot.

“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,” Mercedes replied darkly.

Waverly sat down on a bench across the room in the changing area, Wynonna sat beside her shrugging her P.I scrubs off as she did.

“You mean what you said earlier?” Wynonna half whispered.

“I'm not here on vacation, trust me.” Waverly confirmed.

“Getting outside these walls, that's just the beginning. You're gonna need money,” Wynonna said.

Waverly looked at Westmoreland across the room. “I'll have it,” She said.

Wynonna saw Waverly looking at Westmoreland and scrunched her face up curiously.

“And people on the outside. People that can help you disappear,” Wynonna said puzzled.

“I've already got 'em.” Waverly confirmed looking over at Mercedes Gardiner, “They just don't know it yet.”

Wynonna followed her line of sight again before they looked into each other’s’ eyes. Waverly smiled cheekily and Wynonna just looked more confused still not clued in to what Waverly was trying to silently convey.

“Look, whatever you got going on, fill me in. 'Cause I'm in the dark here,” Wynonna said. Ah typical Wynonna completely oblivious.

“Mictian Associates got the contract to retrofit this place in a few years after it burnt down. $4 million contract, head partner couldn't crack it. So he sub-contracted it out, an under-the-table sort of deal with a former associate. That guy was one of the partners in my firm. We basically ghost-wrote the whole plan. Crossed the Ts, dotted the Is, grouted the tiles...” Waverly began.

Waverly stood up, walked to her locker and opened it and started getting undressed. Wynonna sat thinking deeply a realisation suddenly coming to her.

“You've seen the blueprints?” Wynonna said in awe.

“Better than that...” Waverly said turning around she was now completely topless, showing off the full extent of her tattoo, “I've got 'em on me.”

Wynonna’s mouth dropped open both stunned and amazed.

“Woah that is one sick tat dude,” Wynonna said in awe and with a hint of jealousy.

Waverly’s chest featured an image of a demon slaying an angel with a sword. On her left arm was a sleeve with images of the demons among a few other designs, and the right was the same only with angels instead of demons.

“Thank you” Waverly said smiling “I’m pretty proud of it myself.”

Wynonna tried to see exactly what Waverly was talking about but she couldn’t see any sort of plans on Waverly’s tattoo at all, “Baby girl Am I supposed to be seeing something here?” Wynonna said looking closely, face scrunched up in concentration.

“Look closer.” Waverly said.

Wynonna tried again looking at a different part of the tattoo and she saw it. A line. That led to other lines and slowly but surely Wynonna started to see a pattern of what looked like the outline of a big building with several smaller buildings within it.

“Holy shit!” She said quietly.

Waverly smiled again and turned around. Her back was similar to the front except it had the angel killing the demon instead.
Wynonna continued to look and again the tattoo made an outline of what looked like passageways and rooms, Wynonna supposed they were probably the floor plan for the inside of the building.

Waverly turned around and reached for her bra and shirt.

“God Waverly, you’re a genius,” Wynonna said still in shock and awe.

“Not really,” Waverly said whilst putting on her clothes, blushing a little from the compliment, “I just love you sis and I couldn’t bear the idea of leaving you here to die.”

They were really doing this. Wynonna had no idea what to expect in the next step of Waverly’s plan, it seemed impossible but she knew one thing she trusted Waverly and anything was better than waiting to die.

Chapter Text

A little over a week had passed since Waverly’s incarceration and she was beginning to settle in quite well. A routine had been set up. Wake up at 6am, Breakfast by 7am, work till 12am, then 30 minutes lunch, then more work till 3pm when they finally got an hour In the Prison yard back to the cells by 4pm dinner at 5pm then free activity until 8pm back to the cells then lights out at 10:00pm. During this time Waverly had been spending a lot of time planning the next step in her escape plan.

Out in the Courtyard, Waverly and Gus Westmoreland sat playing checkers. Waverly had spent the past week spending time with Westmoreland gaining her trust and friendship, Gus was quite an interesting character, full of interesting stories from Boston and cheeky grins and quite the opponent to play checkers with. Waverly scrunched her face slightly then made her move taking two of Westmoreland's checkers.

“You're anticipating every one of my moves three moves in advance. You're a hell of a strategist, Fish.” Westmoreland said in awe whilst stroking Calamity Jane’s head softly who was sitting comfortably in her arms.

Waverly smiled internally she’d always been good at strategy games, she was able to take apart the entire board and interpret possible outcomes with ease but Westmoreland was proving to be quite the competition.

“You ever think about Boston?” Waverly asked curiously.

“Sure.” Westmoreland replied pursing her lips slightly thinking.

“Think you'll ever see it again?” Waverly said softly.

Westmoreland scoffed and said “I'm a 60 year old woman with 60 years left on my ticket. What do you think?”

Waverly paused then with a small smirk on her face replied “I'm thinking about going.”

“Well, there's going and there's going. Which one do you mean?” Westmoreland said looking up at Waverly curiously.

“The one you think I mean.” Waverly replied smirking and looking into Westmoreland’s eyes.

Westmoreland chuckled, “Couple days inside and she's already thinking about turning rabbit. It'll pass. It always does. Bigger things to worry about at the moment.”

Westmoreland made a move taking one of Waverly’s checkers then continued stroking Calamity Jane’s head whilst turning to look over at the bleachers where a bunch of white and black inmates were having some form of argument one pushed the other aggressively whilst another yelled a racist comment.

“I've been in here long enough to know it when I see it, the calm before the storm. Whites and blacks run in each other real soon here. Everybody chooses sides and a lot of people bleed,” Westmoreland said cautiously.

“There a reason?” Waverly asked curiously, following Westmoreland’s line of sight.

“The same reason you don't put cats and dogs in the same cage,” Westmoreland replied, “They don't get along.”


Back in her cell in A-wing Waverly sat on her bunk, using a mirror in her left hand to decipher part of the tattoo on her right forearm, in the mirrors reflection it said 'SCHWEITZER', 'ALLEN' and the numbers '11121147'. Waverly picked up her notepad next to her and jotted this down quickly.

Meanwhile behind the bed Rosita was using the toilet. At first Waverly had found it mildly embarrassing having to use the toilet in front of someone else but she was getting used to it now, she had to be she wasn’t going anywhere for a while, Rosita naturally didn’t care having been here much longer than Waverly, she often sang in Spanish covering the sounds of bodily fluids hitting the pan anyway, Waverly wasn’t sure if it was to make her feel better or if it was just something Rosita did but she was thankful for it anyway.

Rosita finished and pressed the flush to find it didn’t work. She scrunched up her face in confusion.

“Huh” she said.

“What? “ Waverly asked looking up from her notepad at Rosita who turned to face Waverly.

“The toilet won't flush.” She replied.

“So?” Waverly said confused.

At that moment a large buzz sounded around the cell block.

“That means only one thing, Fish.” Rosita said with a panicked look on her face whist rushing over to the metal bars.

Below armoured prison guards rushed into the A-wing whilst the overhead speaker announced “Take down, ladies! All contraband will be confiscated!” A sea of contraband consisting of mostly drugs and Shivs rained down from the cells above landing with a loud splat on the ground below followed by the yelling of the convicts trying desperately to get rid of them in time.

“The DIRT shuts down the water so you can't flush your contraband.” Rosita continued, pushing Waverly slightly out the way and reaching under the side of her mattress.

“Well then we’ve got nothing to worry about.” Waverly said calmly.

She certainly didn’t have anything to worry about. Rosita on the other hand pulled out a sealable plastic bag filled with white powder from under Waverly’s mattress where Waverly had just been sitting.

“Says you!” Rosita retorted holding the bag up then running to the bars to throw it out.

Waverly’s eyebrows rose up. Rosita had been keeping drugs under her bed! She was mildly pissed off about that and would be telling her that later. But for now Waverly stood up, pulled down her sleeve and walked to the bars to look out at the wing, god it was a mess! The place was covered in drugs and weapons, armoured guards were running and shouting some arguing with inmates who were yelling creating a crescendo of noise around the block, sniffer dogs had been brought in adding to the drama of it all.

“Under the table, mamasita!” Rosita directed at Waverly pointing to a small metal table in the corner of the cell.

Waverly went to the small table and felt around under it until she could feel some form of blade she pulled on it and a sort of homemade knife came out from underneath it.

“What the hell is this?” Waverly said incredulously unable to believe Rosita also had a shiv.

“It's insurance white girl. Now dump it!” Rosita yelled desperately.

Waverly stepped towards the metal bars ready to throw it only to see Stephanie Jones stride into view with another C.O in tow, hands on her hips, and bearing a look of Schadenfreude as a snarky smile broke out on her face at Waverly’s misfortune.

“Open it.” Jones said smugly to the C.O.

A buzzer sounded and the metal bars slid open, Jones stepped inside.

“So... tooling up for the race riot, are we?” Jones said jeering “Hand it over.”

Waverly slowly passed the shiv to Jones who turned it over in her hands seeming vaguely impressed with it.

“Wow... a rughead and a billy.” Jones said smirking referring to Rosita and Waverly’s race difference “Now, which side are you on anyhow, Fish?”

“That would be neither, boss.” Waverly replied calmly, internally she was shitting herself.

“Maybe you're gonna go extracurricular with it then, stick a C.O maybe.” Jones said putting the shiv up near her own throat eyes bugged out for dramatic effect watching for Waverly’s reaction, Waverly remained stoic.

At that moment the Pope came over.

“Is there a problem here, deputy?” Nedley asked in a professional manner.

“Yeah got a shank in here.” Jones replied gesturing at Waverly’s cell with the shiv then handing it over to Nedley.

Nedley eyed it curiously then turned to Waverly and asked “Is this yours?”

Waverly froze. She didn’t know what to do. On one hand she could say it was hers but she would definitely get sent to the shoe after last week and then she wouldn’t be able to carry out her plan In time, but if she ratted out Rosita then she risked losing her co-operation which was important to the plan, as well as she actually liked Rosita she didn’t want her to get into trouble plus she didn’t want to suffer the consequences of being a Prison rat.

Waverly just stared at Nedley without replying unsure of how to proceed. During this time Nedley looked past Waverly at Rosita who just stared at the ground. He wasn’t stupid he knew it was definitely Rosita’s, he had been watching Waverly all week whilst she was building his Taj Mahal, they’d even had several pleasant conversations she was chatty and easy going and didn’t seem to have a violent bone in her body, Rosita on the other hand… well to be fair she wasn’t usually violent either but he knew she used drugs as currency and she’d been here longer she knew the drill, he suspected it was her back up plan in case she got caught up in the race riots, well luckily he was giving her a get out of jail free card so to speak...

“You're not a good liar,” Nedley said to Waverly softly “Come on, Bustillos, you're going to the shoe.”

The C.O grabbed Rosita and dragged her out of sight in the direction of the shoe. Waverly shot her an apologetic look as she went.

“Move along, deputy.” Nedley said to Jones.

“I'm not done shaking her cell down yet.” Jones replied agitated.

“I said move along.” Nedley said with finality. Then he walked out of sight.

“In the old man's back pocket, are ya?” Jones said nastily getting up into Waverly’s personal space, “Well, I've got news for you, Fish. He may run this place during the day but I run it during the night.”

Jones stepped back and the metals bars slid back across, she sneered at Waverly one last time then exited.


Later in the Prison chapel, Wynonna sat alone in the front row, Waverly also sat alone in the row directly behind her. They were talking very quietly in hushed voices throughout the service about Waverly’s plan.

“What the hell were you thinking, Waverly? How are we doing it?” Wynonna half-whispered.

“The infirmary.” Waverly replied.

“The infirmary?” Wynonna repeated scrunching her face in confusion.

Waverly leant forward and said “It's the weakest link in the security chain. As long I get that PUGNAc, I'll get all the access I need.”

“The hell's a PUGNAc?” Wynonna asked.

“It lowers my insulin levels to the point that I'm hyperglycaemic.” Waverly explained “As long as Officer Haught and the good doctor think I'm diabetic, I'll have plenty of time in there to do what I need to do.”

“Which is?” Wynonna said.

“Just a little prep for our arrival, that's the idea anyway.” Waverly said.

“The idea?” Wynonna parroted.

Waverly sighed, “There's a little hitch in getting the PUGNAc, that's all.” She added “They don't exactly stock it at the commissary.”

“Wait are you telling me this whole thing's riding on a bunch of pills?” Wynonna asked.

Let’s just say it’s an integral part of the plan,” Waverly answered whilst she leant back and looked across the prison chapel at Mattie Perley sat a few rows over, “Don’t worry though I’ve got some people working on it as we speak.”

Wynonna turned to the right and followed Waverly’s line of sight to see Mattie Perley looking back at Waverly with a small smirk on her face. Wynonna turned and faced Waverly.

“Are you mad? Now's not the time to be trusting a black inmate, Waverly.” Wynonna said under her breath.

“Why not? Our relationship transcends race.” Waverly said.

“Nothing transcends race in here.” Wynonna quipped, she sighed “Look I can't let you do it. Good behaviour and you're out of here in 3 years.”

“It’s gonna be a whole lot sooner than that trust me.” Waverly insisted.

“It can't be done.” Wynonna said sighing “no one's ever broken out of Fox River.”

Wynonna had been thinking about the plan since Waverly had told her last week and she had come to the conclusion it was definitely impossible, for a start how the hell was Waverly going to get out of her cell? And then get Wynonna out of solidarity confinement, all without the guards not noticing, it just couldn’t be done!

Waverly leant forward again “Every single step's already been mapped out, every contingency.” She said.

“Every contingency?” Wynonna repeated concerned “You may have the blueprints to this place but there's one thing those plans can't show you: People. People like Mercedes Gardiner. You so much as look at them the wrong way, they'll cut you up.”

Wynonna looked over her shoulder Waverly following her line of sight to see Mercedes Gardiner sitting a few seats back seemingly interested in the sermon.

“Far as the rest of these guys are concerned, I'm just another con doing her time and staying out of trouble.” Waverly said reassuringly.

“You don't go looking for trouble in here,” Wynonna whispered “it just finds you.”

“And when it does, we'll be long gone,” Waverly retorted softly.

Wynonna sighed, “This is madness. You can't even get out of your cell.”

“Not true.” Waverly countered.

“What? You got a key?” Wynonna said sarcastically her eyes locked on Mattie Perley across the Chapel who seemed interested in their conversation although she was too far away to hear it.

“Something like that,” Waverly replied.

“That’s cryptic,” Wynonna said.

“Let’s say I got more than the blueprints tatted on my body” Waverly said, “I have a few other things as well that will be essential in getting out.”

“Anything I should know about?” Wynonna asked.

“Not really most of it can only really be done my end anyway, you just do your normal thing and act normal I’ll take care of the rest,” Waverly replied.

“Jesus what have we got ourselves into,” Wynonna said sighing.

“All part of being an Earp,” Waverly said smiling.


In free time Waverly filed into the courtyard with some other convicts. She looked around and then made her way over to the empty bleachers. As she walked past them she ran her hands under them feeling around for a loose screw without giving away too much attention to what she was doing. Most of them felt rusted or too tight on the first set of bleachers so she moved over to the second.

She climbed onto the bleachers and sat on the top feeling around at the screw up there which she noticed stuck out more than the others, Waverly pulled a coin out from her pocket and used it to unscrew the bolt it was tight at first but then it started to loosen the more she did it.



Waverly sat in her apartment looking through a manual inside was a picture of some bleachers with instructions on how to put them up. The words '7/16" x 6" Machine Screw' and an arrow pointing to a picture of a bolt was written next to the picture of the bleachers. Waverly grabbed a red pen from her desk and wrote down '11121147' the serial number of the bolt next to it and circled it.


A voice called out pulling Waverly out of her thoughts.

“Wrong piece of real estate Fish, belongs to Beth Gardiner.”

Waverly looked down to see another woman had joined her on the bleachers.

“Who?” Waverly said feigning ignorance.

“You best speak with respect, Fish.” The inmate said sounding offended, “The woman kidnapped half a dozen teenage girls down in 'Bama with her brother. Raped and killed 'em. Wasn't always in that order either.”

“Now, now Tennessee is that a way to treat our guest,” a voice from below said.

Stood at the bottom of the bleachers was Beth Gardiner herself. She was a thin, pretty, pale woman with dark brown hair that had flecks of auburn in it, dark brown eyes and a smug smirk. She was slightly taller than Waverly but not by very much. She was not alone either, Beth had her pockets turned inside out and holding onto her left trouser pocket was a younger girl only about eighteen or so. The girl was not too dissimilar to Waverly herself, small, pale with dark hair and hazel eyes. However unlike Waverly’s long flowing locks this girl had cropped hair with a blonde streak in it and judging by the way she was looking at Beth Waverly could guess that the relationship was more than platonic.

Waverly had no desire to talk to Beth or anyone who associated with her she personally found her crimes disgusting. Waverly stood up getting ready to leave.

“No, no, no, please. Sit.” Beth said stepping up onto the bleachers the young girl in tow never once letting go of Beth’s pocket.

Realising she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter Waverly sat back down slowly. Beth moved to sit uncomfortably close to Waverly. The young girl with her still attached to her pocket.

“So you're the new one I've been hearing all the rave reviews about.” Beth said flirtatiously “Gibson.” She whispered getting close to her face.

“One thing's for sure, you're just as pretty as advertised. Prettier even,” She continued and chuckled resting her hand dangerously close on Waverly’s thigh. Just great exactly what she needed Beth Gardiner sexually interested in her. It made Waverly squirm internally.

Beth looked over at where most of the black convicts hung out by the weight pile. A handful of them were looking over at the bleachers with aggressive looks on their faces.

“Rugheads got you scared, did they?” Beth said nodding her head towards the inmates.

“Sorry?” Waverly said genuinely confused by the change in conversation.

“I assume that's why you're over here. A few days on the inside, any God-fearing white woman realises the correctional system's serious lean toward the African-American persuasion,” Beth continued almost spitting out ‘African-American’.

“I hadn't noticed,” Waverly said, she frankly couldn’t stand racists just another reason to dislike Beth and just wanted to leave as soon as possible. She continued to discreetly unscrew the bolt from the bleachers as Beth continued her racist jibe.

“They got the numbers alright so they think they can do as they please. But we got one thing they don't,” Beth continued “Surprise.” She paused for dramatic effect “We’re gonna take the ball game to them real soon though. It's gonna be nasty for a first-timer like you but we’ll protect you. I'll protect you. All you gotta do is...”

Beth trailed off as she turned to look at the young girl still holding her pocket. She yanked the pocket from her hand eliciting a look of surprise from the young girl who clearly disliked this course of action.

“…Take this pocket right here. And your life will be all peaches and cream.” Beth continued showing Waverly her pocket which the young lackie promptly grabbed again shooting Waverly a look of hatred. “I walk, you walk with me. Keep you real close and no one up in here can hurt you.”

Beth patted the younger girl’s hand holding her pocket. Whilst the girl in question just kept shooting angry looks at Waverly.

“Looks to me you've already got a boyfriend.” Waverly said rudely whist smirking.

But Beth just smiled and stood up, pushing off the girls hand again as she did this and pulled out her other pocket.

“I got a whole other pocket over here.” She said gesturing to said pocket whilst the lackie still continued shooting dirty looks at Waverly from behind her, it was clear she wanted Beth to herself.

“I'll pass.” Waverly said still unscrewing the bolt which was nearly out now.

Beth smiled slimily and leaned in closer almost in Waverly’s personal space.

“If I don't protect you, them rugheads are gonna gobble you up like a plate of black-eyed peas-” Beth continued.

“I said no.” Waverly said assertively, fed up with being harassed.

Beth got impossibly closer and whispered “Then you best move then. Now.” The look on her face indicated she was serious, and Waverly was sort of glad on one hand, on the other she didn’t have enough time to fully unscrew the bolt Shit.
Waverly stood up.

“Yeah, watch your step.” The inmates from earlier Tennessee said menacingly as Waverly stepped down.

As Waverly began to walk away she heard Beth Gardiner shout “You come around these bleachers again, it's gonna be more than just words we're exchanging. Know what I'm saying?”

Waverly continued walking not even bothering to look back. She needed that bolt if she wanted to make it out of her cell but it was definitely going to be harder to get it than she thought, it seemed Wynonna was right there were some things she simply couldn’t plan for race riots and prison gangs being two of them. She would have to come back for it later.


In the entrance hall of a large courthouse, Doc looked around and spotting his target he strode confidently over to him, the man in question was packing some folders into a suitcase.

“Excuse me. Are you the Nick Deferro that represented Wynonna Earp?” Doc asked leaning against the wall as he said this.

"If you're a reporter, I can't-” Nick started only to be cut off by Doc.

“I'm not a reporter, I know the defendant personally.” Doc said his southern drawl predominant.

Nick huffed a look of surprise upon his face and began walking away dragging the suitcase behind whilst Doc walked alongside him.

“You family?” He asked curiously

“Well... sort of” Doc replied coolly. “We were in a relationship a few years back.”

They stopped walking, the awkward tension now filling the air.

“Well, Sir,” Nick began “I er…I don't know what to tell you… I mean, the woman was guilty. The prosecution's case was a slam dunk.” He said shaking his head.

“Because the victim was the vice president's husband?” Doc said his eyebrows raised.

They began walking again.

“If you're suggesting that the federal government rammed this thing through, okay, I take offence to that 'cause I fought for that woman.” Nick continued.

“That's not what I meant.” Doc said.

“Look the evidence was there. Wynonna worked for Lucado's company. She gets into a public altercation with the guy, so she gets fired. Two weeks later, Lucado's shot dead, the murder weapons found in Wynonna's house and the victim's blood found on her clothes. Trust me, there are cases you lose sleep over but this isn't one of 'em” Nick said with finality walking off away from Doc completely.

Doc just stood there in stunned silence watching Nick Deferro walk away, before snapping back to reality and rushing to catch up to him.

“What about Keegan?” Doc asked.

They stopped walking once again.

“Wynonna said he could exon her, why didn't you put him on the stand?” Doc asked.

Nick chuckled sarcastically and replied “The man's a five time felon. He had no credibility.”

“So you wouldn't mind if paid him a visit?” Doc asked inquisitively.

“Be my guest. But I don't think it'll do you any good.” Nick said before he walked to the exit of the courthouse and out of sight.


Wynonna sat on her cell floor in a corner reminiscing, it was all she could really do these days, not much else to do when you’re stuck in a tiny cell all day. She usually did a few exercises, push ups and the like but since seeing Doc the other day she’d spent the majority of her time thinking about him.


Wynonna lay in bed completely naked, the soft silk sheets wrapped loosely around her body happily staring up at the ceiling, a smile of complete bliss plastered on her face.

“It’s a strange feeling; don’t know how to explain it…” She began sounding content as she turned over to face Doc who was lying in bed next to her also naked, except for his hat which was still perched on his head albeit a bit skee-whiff.

“…My whole life it's always been crazy, noisy, maddening, you know, in my head, but now it's quiet for once...” She continued.
She paused to snuggle up to Doc wrapping one arm across his broad hairy chest and kissed him on the shoulder.

“…It's perfect. I'm glad I came back.”

“I thought about you the whole time.” Doc admitted softly.

“You know, I, er, well made a lot of mistakes in my life but... I'm gonna make it right.” Wynonna said.

“I know you will.” Doc replied wrapping his arms around Wynonna.

Both leaned in and kissed gently but with meaning. Their tongues meeting softly in a romantic promise.

After a minute they broke away and Wynonna reached over to her bedside table to grab something.

“What are you doing?” Doc asked playfully.

“I want to remember this.” Wynonna replied as she produced a camera.

“A true gentleman never kisses and tells” Doc said pulling his hat down to hide his face as Wynonna held the camera in the air ready to take the picture.

“Oh, Come on, Doc, please, just one.” Wynonna pleaded pulling out her bottom lip for dramatic effect.

It did the trick as Doc smiled and pulled his hat back up, “Mm-kay, just the one.”

She took the picture as Doc kissed her on the cheek. It was the happiest she had been in a long time.


This was all she had left now… Memories. They would continue to haunt her right to the bitter end…
The worst part was at that moment in time she had thought she had finally found happiness, only for it to be ripped away from her once again by an uncontrollable force.

Wynonna leant against the wall of her cell and slid down slowly on to the floor as the remainder of the happy memory washed over her. Leaving behind a cold emptiness in its wake.


Meanwhile later back in the Prison Courtyard, Waverly was making her way over to the Perley sisters who were walking over towards the weight pile with a few other ‘Blacksmiths’ flanking them, the gangs expressions changed to aggressive when they saw the white girl heading towards them.

“Easy, girls it’s cool.” Greta said making a gesture that they wanted to speak with Waverly alone.

The Blacksmiths nodded and shooting one last look at Waverly sauntered off towards their area. Meanwhile the sisters carried on walking and talking with Waverly.

“How we doing on the PUGNAc?” Waverly asked.

“Hey, we're working on it.” Greta replied casually.

“Well, work faster. I need that stuff tonight.” Waverly snapped, her impatience starting to show.

Waverly had been lucky so far, the day after the hypoglycaemic result she had convinced Rosita to steal a bag of sugar from the canteen every day and had been downing it almost throwing up in the process a few times from the sickly sweetness of it, just so she would have blood sugar just high enough that the insulin would work as though she was diabetic. Nicole had yet to do the blood test on Waverly as in the infirmary as the next day she discovered the machine they used to do it was broken. To say Waverly had been ecstatic would have been an understatement, at least now she had time to acquire the PUGNAc, but she needed it by tonight, it had been a week the machine would most likely be here by now.

The sisters suddenly stopped walking and Mattie grabbed Waverly’s arm halting her.

“Seriously what's up there in that infirmary that you need so badly?” Mattie asked curiously, causing the crease in her forehead to become more pronounced.

Waverly sighed inwardly; it seemed she had run into another major problem, nosy inmates. She could hardly tell them what she was actually planning or they’d want in as well and that was not part of her plan, but maybe if she had a little time she could come up with a convincing reason that’d keep them off her back at least for while it could even help speed up the process of getting the PUGNAc...

“You get me that PUGNAc and maybe I'll tell you.” She said before walking away, the sisters watching her curiously as she went.


Waverly continued walking until she was sure the sisters were no longer watching her, before walking by the bleachers again. There was no one on them or around them currently that seemed like they were part of Beth’s crew. Good.

She sat down on the bleachers as casually as she could and began concentrating on unscrewing the bolt once again as quickly as possible to avoid being seen by Beth or any others associated with the Widows.

Unfortunately during this time Beth and her cronies entered through the gate and spying Waverly in their spot, bounced on over just as she got the bolt free.

“Uh-uh-uh.” Beth said shaking her head and smirking. “Oh, hell, I don't understand it. This here's for the family. We made it pretty clear you ain't blood. How 'bout you hand that over? She gestured at the bolt.

Waverly gave her a look but was forced with no other choice but to get down and hand it over or face being beaten up again this time by the other Gardiner sister.

Beth examined the bolt like one would an antique.

“Nice looking steel… bit of work, you could do some serious damage with it. Question is, who it is you were planning on damaging? I seen you with the negros, you know. Well, maybe you're one of them milk chickens, all confused, like...” Beth said shaking her head.

A couple of her cronies got up and surrounded Waverly.

“…White on the outside, black as tar on the inside. Maybe we ought to take a look at them insides and find out, hm?” Beth continued in a sickly sweet voice that made Waverly’s stomach drop as the group got ready for a fight.

Luckily in that moment York entered the courtyard armed with a large gun, and seeing the commotion started heading over.

“Girl scouts! Is there a problem over there?” He shouted over.

Beth pretended to yawn and stretch, shaking her head slightly. As she did this, she handed the bolt to the young girl she was with earlier who immediately pocketed it.

“I think we'll just hang on to this if that's okay with you.” Beth said faux-sweetly to Waverly getting into her personal space.

“Hey! I'm not gonna ask you again,” York shouted, “Let's break up the party, ladies.”

“You heard the man, little doggy. Get along.” Beth half-whispered rudely.

Waverly lingered shortly then slowly walked away. The Widows watching with smirking faces as she went.

What was it with this woman? She had a habit of bad timing. Waverly sighed inwardly if she didn’t get that bolt back there wouldn’t be an escape. She had to get it back somehow. She couldn’t fight her, Beth had too much power and influence and she doubted stealing from her would work. Maybe she could get Mercedes to get it from her after all word was they hated each other, but then again that could also be a reason why she wouldn’t. This was much harder than she was expecting considering this was the easiest part of her plan or so she thought.
She needed to pay Mercedes a visit.


Meanwhile back in A-wing, Stephanie Jones was patrolling. As usual when the inmates were in the courtyard the cells were left open to air. She walked past Waverly and Rosita’s cell and stopped for a beat taking a good look at the cell.

“What are you hiding?” She thought.

She then entered the cell and started searching it. She looked under both Waverly and Rosita’s bunk, running her hand along and under the steel bedframe, then began feeling all over the mattress for drugs or anything sharp but besides a small empty hole in Waverly’s mattress she found nothing.

Determined to find something she could pin on Waverly whom she had taken an instant disliking to the moment she met her, Steph moved over to the desk. There wasn’t much on it, a radio, some tapes, a few books, a notepad and a pen & pencil. She picked up the radio and looked under it, then she picked up the tapes but the Spanish writing on these indicated they were clearly Rosita’s. She ran her hand over the books then flickered through them hoping to find something incriminating hidden inside them but found nothing. She then focused on looking at the desk itself, crouching down and looking and feeling underneath it to yet again find nothing. She was about to get up and give up when she happened to glance at the open notepad on the table, it had no writing on it but it appeared to have indentation on it indicating it had been written on. Steph picked up the pencil and shaded in the page on the notebook revealing the words 'SCHWEITZER', & 'ALLEN' and the numbers ‘11121147'.

“Gotcha,” Steph thought smirking.


Back in the courtyard, Waverly eyed Mercedes who was hanging around the Yard Department shed with the P.I crew. Mustering up the courage Waverly took a deep breath and strode over.

“What would it take to shakedown another inmate? Get something they've taken from you.” Waverly started discreetly not mentioning Beth Gardiner’s name.

“It would take Hetty Tate.” Mercedes replied calmly, turning to face Waverly as cons around them continue doing gardening work.

“I'll give you Tate. I promise you that. When the time is right,” Waverly said warily.

“The time is right now,” Mercedes insisted getting impatient.

“No, the time is right when you and I are both standing outside those walls right now you're sitting on life without parole. You're never gonna stand outside those walls again. Not unless you know someone, someone who knows a way out. What do you say, Mercedes?” Waverly said confidently.

“I say I've heard nothing but bullshit,” Mercedes replied in a pissed off tone.

They exchanged a long look then Mercedes shook her head and then walked away, leaving Waverly to watch after her. Well that went well.

Waverly waited a beat then walked back to the main courtyard.


In the Shoe, Rosita paced back and forth frantically in the tiny, dark cell. Suddenly she heard a guard pass looking out the small window she could see it was Hamilton she called out:

“Hey Hamilton” and banged on the door, “I gotta use the phone!”

Hamilton opened the window flap and smarmily said, “Sure, no problem, you want a pizza and a pedicure, too?”

“No, I just gotta call my girl, It’s important that I call her today!” Rosita pleaded.

“Put a sock in it, you got nothing coming.” Hamilton said with finality shutting the window flap.

“Shit” Rosita said, as she walked away from the door.


Stephanie Jones stood in the Prisons main reception, holding an open notebook with what she’d found written on Waverly’s notepad earlier, nearby some inmates were being led through the reception by another prison guard.

“Hey. Pull up the manifest. Is there an Allen or Schweitzer in gen pop?” Steph said to Lonnie who was manning the computer whilst sipping a cup of coffee.

He typed it into the computer.

“Nope,” He replied.

“How about the shoe?” Steph asked.

He searched for that as well.

“Nope, Why you asking?” Lonnie said.

“Curious, that's all,” She replied.

She walked away tossing the notebook angrily on a nearby table looks like she was going to find out straight from the horses’ mouth.


Back in the courtyard Waverly stood alone near the chain-link fence watching the world go by, the entire place was buzzing as both sides of the race riots were getting ready for the fight. Waverly could see a lot of inmates passing Shivs around, some were broken glass, others knives stolen from the kitchen, Waverly saw one inmate probably one of Beth’s crew on the bleachers making a shiv in broad daylight as another inmate kept watch for passing guards. Waverly felt anticipation and a growing gnawing fear. Waverly was no stranger to violence, after all her father was a drunken tyrant but this was different, this was violence for the sake of violence and that was something Waverly was not accustomed to. Waverly owned a shotgun on the outside and plenty of times she had to use it, but she had never intentionally hurt somebody for the sake of doing it and she had no intention of starting that now. Who knew something as insignificant as what race you were could affect so much? Waverly wanted to stay out of this as much as possible, but she knew if push came to shove that she needed that bolt and would have to get it by any means necessary she just hoped she could get it non-violently. Waverly continued watching as some white inmates walked over to the weight pile only to be chased away by jeering black inmates.

“Allen, Schweitzer. Those names mean anything to you?” Stephanie Jones’s voice came from behind her causing Waverly to jump.

“No should it?” Waverly questioned.

“I don't know, you tell me,” Jones said.

“Never heard of them,” Waverly replied nonchalantly.

“Are you sure?” Jones said suspiciously.

“Positive,” Waverly reiterated.

Jones huffed then walked away. Waverly scrunched her face up in wonder. How the hell does she know about those names?

A bell rang out and the guards started filing everyone towards A-Wing. Waverly along with the other inmates began filing into the Prison as morning free time ended, the Blacksmiths directly behind her.

“You hear the Blacksmiths, Fish? I know you can. That's judgement day. It's coming, real soon.” One of them said who was walking alongside her.

Waverly sighed inwardly she couldn’t wait for this day to be over.

Now back on A-wing, they had a few minutes to socialise before lockup; Waverly took this opportunity to walk around a bit hoping to find which cell belonged to Beth. As luck would have it first thing Beth did was enter her cell to get something. Beth’s cell was below and to the left of Waverly’s on the ground floor it appeared she shared it with her young lackie. Said lackie was talking to some other inmates in front of her cell, Beth had now walked off somewhere and currently was no-where to be seen.

Waverly hung around nearby the cell but not too close that it was obvious she was casing the joint, after a few minutes she suddenly heard Beth’s voice on the next floor up from her cell call out another inmate’s name she didn’t quite catch then then heard, “Come on Maytag!” The young lackie immediately ran up the stairs presumably to join Beth, so that was the lackie’s name ‘Maytag’ fitting name.

Seizing the opportunity presented to her Waverly quickly ran into Beth and Maytag’s cell and began searching for the bolt; starting with under the bunks, but all that brought up was a photograph of Maytag with her arm around two other young women in what appeared to be a gay bar Waverly put it back and then tried under the table next but again came up with nothing, it’s not in here. At that moment Beth and Maytag re-entered their cell to see Waverly crouched near the table.

“What you doing in my cell?” Beth barked surprising Waverly who jumped slightly.

Oh Shit! She had to think quickly. There was only one way out of this… She approached Beth.

“I want in.” Waverly said confidently.

Beth scoffed and said, “I'm not quite sure I heard that, Fish, did you just say you're in?”

“That's right.” Waverly replied.

“You know the old saying, don't you?” Beth said “In for an inch, in for a mile.”

“Whatever it takes. You want me to fight, I'll fight. The bolt from the bleachers, that's what it was for,” Waverly confirmed quickly thinking up the excuse on the spot.

“Well, you want to fight, I'll give you a chance. Next count,” Beth continued.

“Tonight?” Waverly asked.

“Problem with that?” Beth said, “'Cause we going straight at 'em. Better catch them square, Fish We on demand in a big way.”

“All I need's a weapon.” Waverly said hoping to get her bolt back.

“You want a weapon, bitch?” Maytag said nastily, and dangled the bolt tauntingly in front of Waverly, before pulling out a smaller weapon slipping it into Waverly’s chest pocket. “There you go.”

Waverly grimaced she really hated that little shit eater almost as much as Beth, it was clearly obvious Maytag was jealous of the attention Beth was paying her, goodness knows why since it was pretty obvious she wasn’t interested in Beth.

Whilst this was happening up on the next floor Mattie Perley was doing her daily sit-ups in her cell when Greta called to her:

“Hey Mattie, come and see this.”

Mattie got up and waked out onto the balcony where Greta and a few other blacksmiths were watching Waverly and Beth in fascination.

“You see the balls this Fish has sis?” Greta huffed turning to Mattie.

Mattie couldn’t believe it, there was the Fish that wanted their help for a reason she wouldn’t even tell them fraternising with the biggest white supremacist in this place and by the looks of it was receiving some sort of shiv from her lackie. Oh hell no! That isn’t happening.

“Well if she thinks she’s getting that PUGNAc she’s in for a nasty surprise I can tell you” Mattie said to Greta.

At that moment through the speakers came the message “All prisoners, return to your cells.”

The Perley sisters walked into their cell, their eyes still locked onto the exchange downstairs.

Downstairs Waverly was also getting ready to go back to her own cell when Beth put her arm across the cell door blocking her way.

“You're gonna have to prove yourself before we trust you with the heavy artillery, you know what I'm saying?” Beth said in that faux-sweet voice that Waverly hated again.

The speaker spoke again “Gates closing!”

Beth removed her arm from the door and Waverly exited the cell then Beth’s gate closed, as did the Perley sisters since they were also both in their cell. They both watched as Waverly returned to her cell vengeance in their eyes.


Doc sat in his office doing paperwork when there was a small quiet knock on his door, the door opened slightly and his assistant peeked her head around.

“Mr Holiday, there’s a gentleman who wishes to speak with you” She said quietly.

“Thanks Martha,” he said, “let him in.”

In walked Nick Deferro an apologetic look upon his face.

“I wanted to apologise for being so short with you before.” Nick said sheepishly.

“No problem.” Doc assured.

“The closer it gets to an execution, the harder it becomes,” Nick said sadly “So that's why I want to give you this.”

Nick handed a package in a brown envelope over to Doc.

“What’s this?” Doc asked puzzled.

“It's the er… surveillance tape of the garage that night.” Nick answered then backing out of this office he said, “It's a closed trial so no one outside of the courtroom saw it but... I thought we could help you out.”

“With what?” Doc said.

“Closure,” Nick replied.

Tim left. Doc put down the package and closed his office telling his assistant to answer any calls that came through for him and closed the blinds to his office, he then opened the envelope inside was a VHS tape. Doc turned on his Television he had in the corner of the room that he never used turned it on and put the VHS tape inside. The footage onscreen showed a car pulling into a parking space in a garage. Wynonna pulled up shortly behind it on a motorbike then got off walked over to the car and shot the person who had been sitting in it before running away. Doc froze horrified his face the picture of shock. Had he just really witnessed Wynonna shooting someone in cold blood? Back to the footage, Wynonna returned, opened the passenger door and leant in but then it became unclear as to what she was doing exactly, before she then fled the scene.

He needed to see her.


Wynonna sat on the bed in her cell still day-dreaming when Shorty opened the window flap.

“Wynonna, you have a visitor” He said.

Shorty opened up the door and he and another C.O. Wynonna didn’t recognise chained her up ready to take her to the high risk security visiting booth.

As she was being led down Wynonna felt anticipation as to who it could be. It obviously wasn’t Waverly, could it be Alice? No she said she needed time before she could see her again, could it be…? Wynonna didn’t dare to dream.

Wynonna’s heart skipped a beat when she saw him. Sat In the visiting room on the other side of the high risk booth sat Doc Holliday himself. Wynonna smiled he still looked as handsome as ever, his black moustache twitched as Wynonna sat down.

“Man... it's great to see your face,” Wynonna said smiling.

Doc’s moustache twitched again and he touched his cowboy hat in a nervous habit and looked away.
Wynonna stopped smiling.

“Hey are you ok?” Wynonna said puzzled.

“I think it's about time you quit this charade, don't you?” Doc sighed.

“What?” She questioned confused.

“It's starting to ruin people's lives.” Doc said glumly.

Wynonna shook her head in confusion, what the hell was he on about?

“Waverly’s in here because she thinks you're innocent.” He commented.

“Wait she told you.” Wynonna said shocked. Thinking “Did Waverly really tell him about the break-out plan?”

Doc sighed again, “She hasn't told me anything, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Doc assured her, “but I know, Wynonna. I know what she's planning. Call her off. Please if you love her, call her off."

Wynonna continued staring at him in confusion. Why is he saying all this?

“I saw the tape,” Doc said.

Wynonna shook her head and said, “What's on the tape's not how it went down.”

“I know what I saw,” He retorted.

“I know what I saw!” Wynonna countered, “I was there, remember?”

It was a night she couldn’t forget…

“I got high that night. I had to.” She began, “It's the only way I could go through with it. I got off by bike, walked to the car…”



She shouldn’t be driving like this. She’d smoked the joint almost an hour ago it should be hitting her soon, it had been a while she didn’t smoke much these days after all she had an example to set to Alice, she was a teenager now, she was going to be exposed to all this, she didn’t want her going down the same path she had.

She felt sick whether it was from the joint or what she was about to do Wynonna didn’t know.
She pulled into the parking garage behind Locado’s car, resting the bike on its kickstand. She pulled out another stronger Joint and lit it…One more for good luck.
She made her way over to the car gun held in front of her only to find Greg Locado already dead inside, his brains blown out and his blood all over the steering wheel. She felt sick… Shit I have to go.

Wynonna took off running as fast as her legs could carry her leaving the bike behind.


“…I never pulled the trigger. The guy was already dead.” She finished as she told Doc exactly what happened that night.

“I know, you told me a th-” Doc started.

“Then, listen!” Wynonna interrupted aggressively “I was set up. I went there that night to clear a debt. Keegan was on my ass for the 90 grand I owed him. He told me the mark was some scumbag drug dealer and if I took it then we'd be clean. I never pulled the trigger; all I know is that somebody wanted me in the same garage as Greg Locado that night.”

“Wynonna…” Doc began, “How the hell do you expect me to believe you, the tape, the gun, the bike, your clothes how can you fake evidence like that? And why would somebody want to set you up anyways?”

Wynonna stood up angry.

“I don’t know alright!” She shouted, “I just know I was set up, I have no idea why.”

Wynonna sighed and sat back down then chuckled sarcastically and said.

“Is this why you came all the way down here… to tell me how guilty I am?”

“I don't know why I came here.” Doc admitted, he supposed deep down he wanted her to convince him it wasn’t true or admit she did it. He wanted to be convinced it was a lie but the truth was he wasn’t.

“You have your own life now, I know that. But if what we had before meant anything to you, you'd find out the truth.” Wynonna begged.

Doc shook his head. This was a bad idea.

“I’m sorry Wynonna.” He said before getting up and leaving.

Wynonna watched as Doc left the visiting room, he didn’t even look back at her as he left, she hung her head in sorrow, yet another important person in her life who thought she was guilty it seemed she couldn’t catch a break.

The door on the Prison side of the booth opened and Shorty shot her an apologetic smile.

“Come on Wynonna, I gotta take you back,” He said softly.

It was quiet as they walked back towards the cells.

“Shorty…” Wynonna said breaking the silence.

“Do you think I’m a bad person,” she asked quietly.

There was a long pause as they continued walking. When the got to the cell and Shorty uncuffed her only then did he speak.

“No I don’t,” he answered, “In fact I actually think you’re one of the good ones.”

He went to shut the door but stopped for a second then he spoke again.

“And I for one don’t believe you did it.” He said, “Goodnight Wynonna.”

Then he shut the door and locked it. Wynonna stood there stunned, that was…so not what she was expecting.”

“Well at least someone believes me, well two people,” she thought and for the first time in a while she smiled.


Meanwhile on the other end of the visiting room sat Mercedes Gardiner and Jack along with another man in a suit.

“Jim ‘Killer’ Miller” Mercedes said chuckling slightly. “It's an honour. What are you doing here?”

“Well, I, thought we'd just, you know… fraternise.” ‘Killer’ Miller said calmly.

“She looks like it, doesn't she?” Jack commented.

“Like what?” Mercedes said her tone clipped.

“Like everybody's been saying, you’ve lost your touch” Jack said smugly.

Mercedes laughed darkly and said, “You shouldn't talk to me like that. You used to pick up my laundry.

“Not anymore, Mercedes.” Jack countered.

“Look Mercedes, word is there's someone in here that knows where Hetty Tate is and you're not doing anything about it.” Miller said seriously.

“I'm working on it.” Mercedes said sharply.

“Well, you're not working on it fast enough. Apparently Tate's coming up for air again at next month’s congressional hearing. Now if she testifies in that hearing, a lot of people are going down including me. Now I've known you a long time. I know your family business is your life. Now it would be a shame if anything were to happen to it…” Miller said threateningly.

Mercedes face dropped her company was all she had left of her parents.

“You don't need to do this.” She implored.

“Actually I do.” He deadpanned.

“I'll get this girl. We'll get Tate.” She insisted.

“Well, for everyone's sake, I hope you're right.” Miller said.

“I am.” Mercedes reassured.

Jack and Miller stood up clearly satisfied with their answer. Just before they left Miller said in warning:

“Be well, Mercedes.”

“Thank you.” She said, already thinking about her next step in getting Gibson to talk.


Back in the shoe Rosita was getting angsty, it was her Fiancée’s birthday today and she still hadn’t been able to get one of the guards to let her call her. She really needed to call her and wish her happy birthday and let her know she was in solitary for a while.

Rosita banged on the window and shouted “Open up!”

Once again Hamilton opened the window flap.

“You talking again?” he sneered.

“It's my girl's birthday.” Rosita said.

“Happy birthday to her,” Hamilton muttered.

“Well, you got to let me call her, please,” Rosita pleaded.

Hamilton just laughed and closed the window flap.

“Oh come one!” She said banging on the door. Realising he wasn’t going to let her make the call she sighed and leant with her back against the door before sliding down it to the floor in abject misery.


As part of their free time inmates were allowed to shower if they wished to. Waverly chose more often than not to use the shower facilities after all it was very hot in Chicago right now as she showered Waverly thought about her breakout plan so far it wasn’t going brilliantly, she had thought about getting another bolt from the bleachers but she was pretty sure if she went anywhere near them Beth and/or her lackie’s would kill her for sure, she knew Beth saw through her charade like a sheet of glass, which left the only option of stealing it somehow but how? Waverly was not a trained pickpocket and she wasn’t sure entirely she could take Maytag on, even if she did she didn’t want to suffer the wrath of Beth and she knew she definitely couldn’t take the both of them on at the same time. Waverly sighed internally this part was supposed to be the easiest. Waverly finished her shower. She had just finished getting dressed when she felt a tap on her shoulder, she turned around it was Mattie Perley. Mattie smiled and held up the bottle of PUGNAc then made a gesture with her head and walked out. Waverly looked around and making sure no C.O’s were looking at her she followed her.

“Hey, what's up, Waverly?” Mattie said in a friendly manner still smiling.

Waverly smiled too. It was nice to see Mattie actually smile; she didn’t smile much, she usually always had a sort of serious expression on her face. From her observations Waverly had deduced that Mattie was a lot calmer and more collected than Greta who was more hot headed and aggressive. It was ironic that two identical individuals could have such differing personalities in fact a lot of people had trouble telling them apart, but Waverly noticed everything from how Mattie had pierced ears and Greta did not to how they wore their hair, Mattie’s was always down and wild, whilst Greta wore hers in a tight braid, which was kinda ironic in itself as it also contrasted their personalities completely.

She held her hand out in what appeared to be a high five motion.

“That’s strange…” Waverly thought, “It’s not like Mattie to be this friendly…”

Waverly returned the high five and then Mattie went in for a shoulder bump, but instead of it being soft and friendly like Waverly was expecting, Mattie shoved her so hard she hit the prison gate behind her, where a pair of hands grabbed her from behind holding her in place. Out rushed Greta from behind the corner along with another Blacksmith who also held onto her Greta holding her neck whilst the other held her body, Waverly was trapped. Mattie nodded clearly satisfied and walked up getting uncomfortably close to Waverly’s face. She had to bend slightly as she was a lot taller than Waverly.

“Do you think I'm a fool?” Mattie said to Waverly her face back to her usual calm expression.

“What are you talking about?” Waverly said confused.

“I saw you with Beth Gardiner,” Mattie scoffed, “You know I have a good mind to slash you open right now.”

“It's not what you think,” Waverly said her voice quivering slightly in fear; “They've got something I need.”

“I see,” Mattie said smirking, “That's funny. Because we got something you need, too.”

Mattie produced a bottle of PUGNAc from her pocket and shook it tauntingly in front of Waverly before passing it to Greta who let go of Waverly.

“Yeah, you want your PUGNAc, Fish? Huh?” Greta taunted.

She popped the lid off the PUGNAc and emptied it into her hand, then lifted it up near Waverly’s face before dropping them into her pocket. She then dropped the small empty tub on the floor.

“Listen, white girl, your luck just ran out. You chose the wrong side.” Mattie said in a calm manner.

She patted Waverly on the cheek then made a gesture, the Blacksmiths all let go of Waverly and dispersed. Waverly just there in shock not quite able to fully process what happened, and then she looked down at the ground at the empty PUGNAc bottle and slammed her hand against the Prison gate in frustration.

Today was just not her day.


In the Courthouse, Nick was rushing, because of his meeting with Doc Holliday he was late for his next court case and wanted to just get through the security check as quickly as possible. He went through the metal detector and luckily it didn’t go off but as he made to go to the courtroom he was stopped by two important looking men in suits.

“Can I help you gentleman?” He said a little confused.

“Mr Deferro, I'd like to have a word with you if we could.” Ewan Allanbach said and pointed to his partner Cooper Bryce who was stood next to him.

“I really don't have time-” Nick began but he was cut short when Ewan reached in and pulled out a secret service badge.

“I'm afraid we're going to have to insist.” He cut in.

Nick nodded then carried on walking along with Allanbach and Bryce.

“It's come to our attention that you made a foil request a couple of days ago on the Earp case.” Allanbach began.

They stopped walking.

Yeah, so?” Nick said confused. Why did they care?

“Records show that you made a dupe of the surveillance tape?” Allanbach stated.

“That's right,” Nick confirmed.

“Mind us asking why?” Allanbach asked inquisitively.

“It was for Earp’s old boyfriend, man. He was under the impression that the woman was innocent, I figured it would, you know, help him with closure,” Nick said.

“So he's in possession of the tape now then?” Allanbach quipped.

“Don't pull that card on me. It's the Freedom of Information Act. He's entitled to that tape as much as you or I- ” Nick defensively intoned.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, by all means, by all means.” Allanbach reiterated gently.

“May I go now?” Nick asked, he just wanted to get away from these people and get on.

“Sure” Allanbach said, “Just one more thing, this old boyfriend of hers what's his name?”


Doc Holiday pulled up in his car outside a small pokey looking house that had clearly been turned into flats. Outside a small elderly black lady was collecting some post from the mailbox checking them before making her way back over to the house, Doc watched her as she did this then got out the car and walked over to her.

“Excuse me,” He said, “I believe this is where Mr Keegan lives?”

“Yes I'm Ms Simmons, I’m his landlady” The lady said.

“I'm John Henry Holliday but people call me Doc,” Doc said with a smile, “I’m looking for Mr Keegan do you know if he’s around.

The woman had a look of surprise on her face, and then she smiled sadly and said:

“Oh Hun you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?” Doc said intrigued.

“Keegan’s dead,” She said softly.

Doc’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

“What?” he said in shock.

“Yeah, he died about a week ago” Ms Simmons said sadly, “Overdose. It’s a shame he was such a nice guy, he was almost like a son to me in a way”

“My condolences.” Doc said taking off his hat.

Ms Simmons smiled tightly in thanks then asked:

“Why did you need to see Keegan?” She asked curious.

“I wanted to ask him a few questions about a homicide case I’m working on” Doc replied, out the corner of his eye he could see a nosy neighbour watching them out of the window.

“Ah,” Ms Simmons said tipping her head, “Well I know he had a girlfriend but I’m afraid I can’t remember her name or where she lives but she’s supposed to come round today to pick up the remainder of Keegan’s things, if you leave your phone number she might be able to help you.”

“That would be great ma’am” Doc said.

Doc pulled out a piece of paper and wrote his office number on it and passed it to her, Ms Simmons smiled, thanked him and then went into the house, the nosy neighbour went back behind her curtain and Doc walked off back to his car feeling like he had left with more questions than he had arrived with.


Back in A-wing, Waverly sat in her empty cell wondering about what to do about her predicament, she needed that bolt but she also needed the PUGNAc, one without the other wouldn’t work but with these race riots she was having a hard time doing anything, but at least she sort of had Beth on her side for the moment. As she sat there alone she could hear the other prisoners, there was a buzz going around the block, lots of shouting mostly racist comments, expletives she would rather not repeat, they were angsty, this was going down sooner rather than later.

Suddenly a buzz went up and Lonnie along with another C.O entered the block.

“Heads up!” Lonnie shouted, “Summon up, cons, stand your gate!”

All of the cell gates opened, and Waverly along with all the other inmates stood by their cells for the roll call.

Waverly looked across at Mattie and Greta Perley who’s cell was directly opposite Waverly’s both had a mischievous smile on their faces that made Waverly feel nervous.

Suddenly on the ground floor one of the white convicts a tall muscular woman with a shaved head and a large Nazi swastika tattoo stepped out of line menacingly.

“Oi Johnson, get back on your number!” Lonnie shouted assertively.

Johnson stayed exactly where she was a menacing smirk breaking out on her face.

Westmoreland, holding Calamity Jane as always, stepped back into her cell and sat on her bed because she sensed things were was about to get out of hand.

Lonnie too realised what was about to happen and that he and the other C.O’s couldn’t handle it by themselves, taking into his walkie talkie he said “We need back up, send up to A-wing.”

Another white prisoner screamed and charged forward and the riot begun. Black and white convicts punching, kicking, biting and scratching each other like animals. A black convict ran into a white convicts cell kicked her between her legs then starting throwing punches one after the other on the helpless woman.

Upstairs the Perley sisters were embroiled in the fight grabbing various inmates and punching them. On the top level a black inmate was grabbed by her hair and thrown over the balcony landing with a crack on the ground floor. On the ground floor a black inmate made the mistake of walking past Beth’s cell only for Beth to grab her and slit her throat with a shank before talking off to stab another inmate.

It was carnage, inmates were fighting all around Waverly, then Waverly herself was picked up by a black inmate and thrown over the balcony landing in a heap on the ground floor luckily as she was only on the floor above she wasn’t hurt too bad although she was a bit dazed and shaken. Whilst all this was going on Westmoreland sat in her cell stroking Calamity Jane and watching the events with a bored look that indicated she was clearly used to this.

Waverly suddenly heard a loud war cry as Maytag ran towards her clutching the bolt from the bleachers and clearly ready to attack Waverly. Maytag swung but Waverly grabbed her arm, and countered her attack by holding her around the neck and tackling her to the floor. They wrestled over the bolt for a few minutes but Waverly was stronger and managed to get Maytag on her back and smacked her head on the ground making her dazed. She wrenched the bolt from her hands and got up. Waverly happened to look up and she could see Mattie Perley looking at her in fascination. During this time Maytag had gotten up and started to charge at Waverly when Greta Perley who had also witnessed the struggle had during this time raced down and ran in front of Waverly defending her. Greta stabbed Maytag in the chest with a shank three times before running away. Maytag stumbled forward, and fell on Waverly who held onto her horrified.

“Help me,” Maytag uttered as she clutched onto Waverly, blood dripping out of her mouth.

Beth got up from her own fight wiping the sweat from her brow only to be greeted by the image of Maytag covered in blood and dying in Waverly’s arms, her eyes locked onto the bolt in Waverly’s hand as she laid Maytag to the ground.

“Gibson!” Beth yelled in utter shock, her eyes were wide and she had a look of complete shock-horror on her face, there was a pregnant pause as Waverly and Beth just stared at each other in shock.

At that moment smoke canisters came flying in blinding everyone and an alarm sounded overhead. Maytag lay squirming on the floor as Waverly fled and the riot response squad moved in. Through the thick choking smoke Waverly somehow made it back to her cell coughing, She looked down at her shirt it was covered in Maytag's blood as was her hands, she felt sick. Downstairs Beth was on her knees by Maytag's side.

“You're dead Gibson!” Beth screamed as the shock wore off and anger set in, “You hear me? You're a dead woman!”

Waverly sat sweating as the cell gate closed. Her hands were shaking her whole body was shaking, she had just witnessed a murder right in front of her and the victim died in her arms! She felt sick… She just made in time to puke in the toilet, she hacked a good few times then she wiped her sleeve across her face leaving a small trail of Maytag’s blood on her face. She picked up her towel and wiped her face and blood-stained hands on it trying desperately to get rid of it all before putting her head in her arms as she sat on the floor breathing heavily unable to quite process what had just happened.


Back in his office Doc was tending to his legal work, which he had neglected in the past few days, there was a knock at his door and Martha popped her head around.

“Got a Debbie Donner on the line” Martha announced.

“I don't know who that is, sounds like a fake name take a message.” Doc said nonchalantly still engrossed in his work.

“She says she used to date someone called Keegan.” Martha said.

Doc stopped writing and picked up his office phone indicating he would take the call.

“Debbie thank you for calling,” Doc said as Martha left.

“You want to hear what I have to say? We meet in a public place where they can't get to us.” Debbie uttered down the line.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, where who can't get to us?” Doc said confused.

“Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?” She barked, “'Cause if you don't, I'm gonna hang up right now.”

“No, no, no, just name the time and the place and I’ll be there.” Doc assured her.


Back in A-wing, the convicts were now all in their cells. On the ground floor in the centre of the wing surrounded by blood and Shivs stood ‘The Pope’ himself, with a disappointed look upon his face.

“I really don't know what to say to you ladies” Nedley began. “I try to give you the benefit of the doubt, I try to treat you with respect. You can't even respect yourselves.” He shook his head in disapproval.

Waverly was breathing heavily, she’d watched as they took Maytag’s body away, and the others. She felt guilty even though it wasn’t technically her fault. She’d never held a dying person before, never seen a person’s life slip away before her very eyes, it was the most horrific thing she had experienced even more horrific than when Willa was kidnapped and Wynonna accidently shot their father. She’d had a panic attack after she’d been sick, but she had taken deep breaths and had managed to calm down by the time Nedley got down here.

“So, there's going to be a 48 hour lockdown. No mess, no showers, no visitation. And I strongly suggest that you all learn to get along. Otherwise, next time it's gonna be week and the time after that it's gonna be a month. Think about it.” Nedley finished before walking off C.O’s in tow back to his office.

Waverly sighed then she studied the bolt, the only good thing to come out of today. She started scraping the end of it against the floor.

Meanwhile in the prison morgue Maytag’s dead body lay on a slab in the middle of the room, a C.O and the morgue technician on hand as Beth stood next to the table looking down at her a look of sorrow on her face, she then looked up and thinking about Waverly her face contorted into anger as she contemplating her revenge plan.


Doc stood waiting in the middle of Chicago’s busy town square waiting for Debbie. It was a busy evening as people milled around, men in business suits hurrying on home as children played unapologetically in the water features nearby, a few teenagers hung around some of them riding skateboards, this place was abuzz with urban life.

Suddenly a Caucasian woman in her late twenties with blonde hair and the brightest green eyes Doc had ever seen strode over to him like she was on a mission.

“Over here.” She said walking past him. Doc followed her.

“Hey, Debbie, thanks for coming-” Doc started when he was cut off by Debbie who had stopped walking and turned towards him.

“Go easy. We don't know each other, you got that,” She said, she looked around fervently then continued, “Look, stay out here in the open where they can't get to us. Where they can't do what they do. Only reason why I'm talking to you 'cause they gonna kill your girl like they killed my man.”

“The coroner's report says heroin killed your boyfriend, Debbie, it was an overdose.” Doc stated.

Debbie shook her head and said “Keegan didn't use. He had a bad heart. If he touched the stuff, it'd kill him. I mean, don't you think it's just the slightest bit of a coincidence he OD'd a week after your girlfriend's crime. They killed him 'cause he knew things. Things they didn't want to get out.”

“Like what?” Doc asked.

“Like who was really behind that hit that night” Debbie said passionately “It wasn’t Keegan, and it sure as hell wasn't Wynonna. Neither of them knew what they were getting into, they were just pawns in a big game.”

Suddenly Debbie stopped abruptly talking and her eyes opened wide like she’d seen something over Doc’s shoulder.

“Are you ok?” Doc asked worried.

“They're here.” Debbie half whispered.

“Who's here?” Doc questioned.

Debbie started backing up “Don't try to follow me. Don't find me, I won't testify.” She stated seriously starting to walk away, trying to put some distance between her and Doc.

“Hey it’s ok just slow down and talk to me.” Doc said following her.

“I'd get as far away from here as you can boy, 'Cause there ain't nobody they can't get to.” Debbie warned before taking off running in the opposite direction skipping over the water feature like her life depended on it.

“Debbie!” Doc called but it was too late she was already well gone.

In the distance Ewan Allanbach and Cooper Bryce stood leaning against their car watching over the square, Allanbach eating a sandwich as he watched the exchange.

“So who did you think that guy was?” Bryce asked.

Allanbach finished his sandwich and stuffed the wrapper into his jacket pocket.

“Not sure,” Allanbach replied, “but he can’t be good news.”

Allanbach whipped out his phone and zooming in took a picture of Doc.

“Let’s be honest though,” he said, “There aren’t many city men who dress like him, there’s bound to be someone who recognises him.”

The two men stood up got in their car and drove off into the Chicago evening.


Back in Allanbach’s office he was scanning through a document he had made on the man he saw Debbie Donner talking with earlier.

He figured it wouldn’t be hard to locate a man who looked and dressed like a cowboy from the 1800’s but he was wrong, the man had been incredibly hard to find he had no social media presence in fact he didn’t really have an online presence at all, but after some very deep researching he had managed to find out something about the man. His name was John Henry Holiday and he ran a law firm, he seemed to prefer being called ‘Doc’ and he shared a daughter called Alice with the one and only Wynonna Earp herself.

He fiddled with the ring on his finger then he picked up the phone and typed in a number.


A phone rang out inside a large country house surrounded by the beautiful setting consisting of a large forest and a large lake. It seemed to be the only house in this area. On the edge of the city limits was a sign saying 'Blackfoot, Montana'.

In the kitchen of this house stood a tall blonde woman dressed in a sharp suit with her hair in a taught bun she was chopping some vegetables seemingly for a stew if the pot on the stove was anything to go by.

At the sound of the phone the woman put down the knife and picked up the cordless phone located next to the chopping board.

“Hello?” The blonde woman said down the phone.

“We have a small complication. There's a lawyer poking around,” Allanbach said.

“Doc Holliday?” She asked, studying the ring on her finger, it was the same as Ewan Allanbach’s.

“Yes.” Allanbach answered seriously.

She snorted.

“You can handle a man who graduated in the middle of his Baylor Law School class. At least, I'd like to think so, given the stakes of what we're dealing with here.” She told him.

There was a thump from the living room, the woman stopped for a minute craning her neck slightly to see if something was amiss before going back to the phone.

“Anyone that's a threat to what we're doing is expendable. Anyone,” She reinterred.

“Understood,” Allanbach said.

“Do what you need to do to make this go away.” The woman ordered.

The woman hung up the phone. Back in his office Ewan did the same then he clicked his neck and pulled out the document on Doc again.


Back in her cell Waverly was carving the bolt against the floor which she had been doing for hours now since she wasn’t going anywhere since the lockdown had begun hours ago, well a least until she got to medical, which without the PUGNAc and Rosita’s daily bag of sugar was probably going to be her last, but at least she had the bolt she supposed.

On the floor below Beth Gardiner had returned from the morgue and was extremely angry she paced up and down then put her face to as close to the prison gate of her cell as though she was trying to poke her head out of it.

“You there pretty?” She called out in her creepy faux-sweet voice.

Waverly stopped etching at the sound of Beth’s voice, there was a silence then she carried on.

“I know you're there,” Beth continued creepily.

Waverly stopped etching again so she could hear what Beth was saying and listened.

“I just want you to know I'm coming for you. You got nowhere to run. You're trapped in that little hole of yours. Trapped like a pig that I'm gonna slaughter,” Beth promised her voice taking on a darker turn.

“Well that’s fantastic” Waverly said sarcastically to herself and she began etching again more vigorously this time, it was almost done just a bit more…there!

Waverly blew the dust off the end of the bolt and pulled up the sleeve of her undershirt revealing a circle tattoo on her forearm, she brought the bolt to the tattoo the circumference now matched the circle perfectly.


Sat at the desk in her office Waverly flicked through a manual. She moved her arm revealing that she was reading about East cell blocks in Fox River State Penitentiary, She then looked at how the toilet is constructed in the cell, next to it the materials were listed among them was the words 'Steel Angle Brackets with 1/4" Allen Bolts'.

Waverly walked over to the toilet on the side it had a metal tag saying 'SCHWEITZER, Plumbing Appliances, Aurora, IL, 60504' , just beneath this there was a screw.

Carefully Waverly began unscrewing it with the bolt which now it had been ground down fit in the hole perfectly. After a few turns the screw came lose and Waverly grabbed it and put it in her pocket, then she looked behind herself making sure none of the other inmates saw her, it seemed none of them did. Waverly smiled well at least one step of her plan was completed.


In the Infirmary, Nicole sat in her chair looking at some files around her when Shae entered the room.

“Hey this came earlier,” Shae commented and passed Nicole a package, before going over to a cabinet and rummaging through it clearly looking for some medicine to give a patient of hers.

“Thanks, this should be the new blood glucose meter hopefully,” Nicole said as she opened the package.

“I’m actually kind of glad it broke we needed a new one anyway that old one took hours for it to determine the results,” Shae admitted coming back over medicine in hand to admire the sleek new machine, “It’s a lot smaller too,” she added.

“Yeah it’s a lot nicer than the last one we had, pretty sure it hadn’t been replaced since 1992 or something,” Nicole affirmed, “I’m glad it’s finally arrived, I’ve got a Type-1 diabetes patient that I think may have been misdiagnosed in fact I’m not sure she’s even a diabetic at all.”

Shae furrowed her brow and said, “Well, it’s not uncommon for a Type-1 Diabetic to be misdiagnosed as Type-2 or vice versa but for a non-diabetic to be diagnosed as diabetic? It happens but it’s rare.”

“I’ve been giving her insulin all this week and she hasn’t had a hypo so far so I assume it could be just a blip, or maybe she didn’t eat enough that day, in which case I’ll need to talk with Nedley but on the other hand I don’t want to be administering medicine to her if she’s not a diabetic at all you know?” Nicole confessed. “I mean her blood was 15 milligrams per deciliter.”

“Wow,” Shae said shocked, “That’s some pretty bad hypoglycemia, I’m surprised she didn’t collapse right there and then to be honest.”

“She didn’t look too great,” Nicole commented she picked up the previous patients file and wrote something in it before placing it in the filing cabinet.

“Who's my 1 o'clock?” she asked checking off the patient off her list.

“Er,” Shae said flicking through a file, “A Waverly Gibson I believe” she said.

“Speak of the devil,” Nicole said with a smile.


Waverly was walking to the infirmary flagged by August Hamilton. She was feeling extremely nervous; there was no way she was going to pass as diabetic on this test, even with the sugary food she had eaten today it wouldn’t be enough without inhibitors.

All of a sudden Mattie Perley appeared seemingly from the infirmary herself flagged by York whom Mattie nodded and passed some money to for him to walk away for a moment Hamilton following in tow.

Mattie smiled genuinely then said:

“I was wrong about you Gibson, here’s your PUGNAc,” She dropped the PUGNAc into Waverly’s hand.

“Little bit late.” Waverly commented before popping three at once into her mouth and swallowing them dry.

“Better late than never, right?” Mattie said.

“We'll see about that,” Waverly replied then asked, “Do you visit medical often?”

Mattie chuckled, “No I faked a headache so I could give you the pills,” she revealed, “After that all I needed was to pay York and Hamilton to leave us alone for a bit, ok now it’s your turn why are you up there really?”

Waverly didn’t answer.

“Oi Gibson! Infirmary” August yelled as the two guards came back into view it seemed their time was up.

“Take care,” Mattie said as she leant in and hugged Waverly taking her by surprise.

“You too,” Waverly said.

Mattie hummed then said:

“I'm gonna find out, you know. What it is you're doing up there.” Then she smiled as York guided her back towards the cells.

“Come on Gibson,” Hamilton said as he led her to the infirmary.


Once inside the infirmary Waverly sat nervously waiting for Nicole who was rummaging around in a cabinet looking for a strip for the glucose meter. Nicole turned around holding a strip up in the air triumphantly before sitting opposite Waverly. Carefully Nicole took Waverly’s hand and pricked her finger onto the kit drawing just enough blood for the test to work then she wiped it with the strip and put it in the machine then she set it down on the table and they waited.

“How long does this take?” Waverly asked nervously.

“It used to take a few hours, but they've come a long way with the new glucose kits, so this'll take us probably about ten seconds.” Nicole replied as she took off her medical gloves.

Waverly glanced at the meter it was a small white box that resembled a large calculator except the interface said, 'PROCESSING...’ instead of a maths calculation. She felt nervous, she wasn’t entirely sure if the pills would work instantaneously.

“I'm sure you know this but average glucose for a non-diabetic is about a hundred milligrams per decilitre,” The voice of Nicole cut in “so we see a number like that here and we know you've been misdiagnosed.”

Waverly shifted in her seat, Nicole said this would take ten seconds I’m sure it’s been longer than that!

“You seem nervous,” Nicole commented her voice suspicious.

“I do?” Waverly said nervously.

“You're sweating,” Nicole pointed out.

Waverly laughed nervously and said “Well it’s hard not to, I mean this result could be life changing.”

Suddenly the machine made a little beeping sound. Nicole picked it up, Waverly held her breath.

“Huh,” Nicole uttered her mouth in a tight smile “Well it’s Bad news, I'm afraid.”

Waverly’s stomach dropped but then Nicole handed over the meter to Waverly, where it previously said ' now said ‘180mg/dL’.

“180 milligrams per decilitre, you're definitely diabetic.” Nicole confirmed.

Waverly sighed in relief then she couldn’t help but break out in a grin. It had worked the PUGNAc had worked. Nicole eyed Waverly curiously, she seemed happy about the diagnosis, how strange.

“Do you need anything else from me?” Waverly asked happily.

“Just an arm to stick a needle in,” Nicole answered.

“Okay,” Waverly chirped.

Waverly rolled up her sleeve as Nicole prepared the insulin, she injected her and Waverly pulled her sleeve back down.

“I'll see you Wednesday,” Nicole said.

“I look forward to it” Waverly chorused as she made her way to the exit.

Shae entered the infirmary as Waverly exited into the waiting room where August Hamilton was waiting to take her back to the wing.

“She’s cute,” Shae commented once Waverly was out of earshot.

“She’s also a Prisoner,” Nicole said flatly, “I don't know, there's something strange about her.”

“What do you mean?” Shae pressed puzzled.

“It’s just…I gave her the results of her blood test and there was this look on her face. It was, um... relief,” Nicole stuttered.

“Huh…weird…didn’t you say you thought it was a misdiagnosis?” Shae said.

“Yeah, but her results said she was 180 milligrams per decilitre so she’s definitely a diabetic, its just weird that would be something I’d be upset about not relieved,” Nicole continued.

“Same” Shae said, “But then again maybe she was just relieved she had the right diagnosis after all I wouldn’t like to be told I was a diabetic if I wasn’t. As you know too much insulin in a non-diabetic can cause extreme low blood sugar even death.”

“Yeah…maybe you’re right,” Nicole agreed, after all she couldn’t think of a better reason for Waverly behaviour still it bugged her.


Waverly was being led outside on the way back from the hospital block by August Hamilton when Stephanie Jones strode over.

“Hey August It's alright, I’ll take her back, I'm headed over to A-wing anyhow.” Jones said.

Hamilton shrugged his shoulders and let Jones take her happy to be relieved of his duties. Jones grabbed Waverly roughly with one hand and lead her along, a hot coffee in her other hand.

“You're positively beaming, boss,” Waverly grumbled.

“Got up on the right side of bed this morning I guess,” Jones beamed, then she stopped “Hold up” she said motioning to her drink, “I forgot the sugar now don't you move Fish.”

Jones walked off into a building nearby. Waverly scrunched her eyebrows in confusion what the hell…

All of a sudden Waverly felt a pair of hands grab her from behind as three cons pulled her down the side of the Prison building.

“What are you doing?” Waverly spluttered.

“You're coming with us, Fish,” one of the cons spat.

They pulled Waverly into the P.I shed where Mercedes Gardiner sat on a workbench inside.

Outside Steph poked her head back out the door and seeing that Mercedes had taken Waverly she smiled and walked back inside.

“This little game you and I have been playing for a while, as of now is over...” Mercedes said she tapped the table indicating she wanted Waverly to sit there.

One of Mercedes cronies pushed her forward and forced her to sit next to Mercedes.

“Now…I want to know where Hetty Tate is, and I want to know how you found out where she is,” Mercedes demanded.

“That’s not gonna happen, Mercedes,” Waverly said calmly.

Mercedes sighed then nodded, her cronies pinned Waverly to the table one of them grabbed Waverly’s left hand and trapped it tightly in the vice, and another held a heated axe threateningly above her wrist.

“Now, I'm gonna count to 3 and if I don’t get the information I want you can kiss goodbye to your hand,” Mercedes threatened.

“I give you that information, I'm a dead woman. You know it and I know it,” Waverly countered.

“1...” Mercedes started counting.

“I'll tell you the moment we're outside those walls, not a second before,” Waverly vowed.

“2...” Mercedes continued.

“I’m not going to tell you, Mercedes” she said.

“I'm gonna give you one last chance, tell me now,” Mercedes said with finality.

Waverly shook her head. She shared a long and intense look with Mercedes but Waverly stood her ground.

“3,” Mercedes said softly.

Waverly squirmed and prepared herself knowing what was coming next.

The peace was shattered as a loud ear-piercing scream filled the air coming from the P.I shed as the axe sliced straight through Waverly’s wrist.

Chapter Text

All she could feel was pain. White-hot blinding pain. She couldn’t see, everything was black. Then slowly her sight started to come back bit by bit but everything was hazy as though looking underwater, she could only make out shapes, red hair, prison clothes, bodies. She couldn’t hear anything but static then it registered there was a noise, an ear-piercing scream it took her a few seconds to realise she had her mouth open and her lungs were burning. It was her.
She was screaming.

She fell to her knees as she was released from the vice, clutching her wrist as blood poured out of the open wound. Swimming into vision was a figure in dark blue, must be a guard, all she could make out it was a man and that he had short brown hair, she was aware he was shouting as she passed out…


“What the hell is going on in he-holy shit!” Lonnie said shocked.

He ran to Waverly who was crumped on the floor breathing heavily and screaming before she all of a sudden passed out assumingly from the pain.

“SHORTY, GET IN HERE QUICKLY!” He shouted then he turned to face Mercedes Gardiner, “What the hell happened here?”

“An accident,” Mercedes replied nonchalantly.

“An accident!” he parroted, “Some accident, what are you guys even doing out of your cells anyway? There’s a 48 hour lockdown.”

At this moment Shorty came in followed by Pete York and Stephanie Jones.

“Oh my god Waverly!” Shorty said when he saw her, “We have to get her to medical quickly.
He saw her hand on the floor near the vice.

“…Here I’ll take that and ice it up, hopefully it’ll make it to the hospital ok,” He said quickly as he picked up the hand.

“…Lonnie, you and Pete carry her out, I’ll telephone medical and get Dr Pressman down here ASAP,” He continued.

“…and I’ll stay here and deal with this lot,” Jones added.

Shorty ran ahead clutching Waverly’s severed hand, then with Lonnie holding her shoulders and York holding her legs they carried her out as fast as possible leaving Steph behind with Mercedes and her crew, Steph waited until she was sure the other officers were out of earshot then she faced Mercedes.

“What the hell! I thought you said you were just gonna have a conversation with her,” Jones said angrily.

“Yeah, I did. Things... escalated.” Mercedes said calmly.

“Oh did they?” Jones said sarcastically, “…And how the hell exactly am I going to explain all this!?”

“That’s your problem not mine” Mercedes replied with a shrug.

“Listen you!” Jones said getting up in Mercedes personal space, “Don’t mess with me, I can take away your privileges with a snap of my fingers if I wanted to; P.I, extra phone privileges, the ability to get away with murder, All gone just like that.”

“But you won’t,” Mercedes said confidently, “’Cause if you do I’ll tell ‘The Pope’ about all the bribes you’ve taken from me over the years. I wonder what he’d have to say about all this hmm? Personally I’m guessing it wouldn’t look great on your record and we wouldn’t want that now would we?”

Jones glared at her but backed down.

“So what am I going to do about…this,” Jones said clipped, gesturing to the axe and pool of blood on the floor beneath the vice.

“You’ll do what you do best…”Mercedes said, “Lie.”


Waverly kept going in and out of consciousness, one moment she was in the P.I shed and the next she was in the medical ward.

“Waverly?” Someone said, a female voice.

“Waverly, are you there?” the voice said again and a light was shone in her eyes. Waverly blinked, the blurriness had lessened a little and she could now see it was Shae Pressman talking to her.

“She’s awake, Nicole get me 10cc of Dexmedetomidine!” Shae yelled.

“Waverly, can you tell me what happened? ” Shae asked turning to Waverly as Nicole arrived back with a needle.

The pain had also returned now she was awake and Waverly could feel the bile rise up in her throat, she bent over the chair where she was lying down and promptly projectile vomited onto the floor.

“Dr, the Helicopter’s arrived,” Shorty said as he entered the room.

“Ok we’ll be down in a few minutes, I’ll go and get her hand,” Shae said, “Nicole can you take over for me?” she asked

“Yeah sure,” Nicole answered.

“Ok thanks,” Shae said and left the room with Shorty.

“What happened?” Nicole asked as she administered the Dexmedetomidine.

“Nothing,” Waverly replied wiping her mouth across the back of her hand.

“This isn't ‘nothing’ Waverly! I need you to tell me what happened, who did this to you?” Nicole begged.

“Don't make me lie to you. Please,” Waverly pleaded softly.

Then she threw up again, before once again passing out from the pain.

The next minute she was aware of a strong wind against her face and people shouting, she was being carried on a bed or something, the pain was a little better than before, emphasis on little, she opened her eyes it was an air ambulance.
She could hear Dr Pressman rattling off information about her to the air ambulance men before she went back out of consciousness.

Next time she woke up she was in hospital, handcuffed to the bed and doped up on pain medication.


With the air ambulance having taken Waverly the next step was to find out exactly what happened. On the way back to the infirmary Nicole and Shae could see Shorty, Pete, Lonnie and Steph talking animatedly, Shorty and Lonnie seemed to be wearing faces of doubt, as they got closer they could hear the conversation.

“Are you sure it was an accident, didn’t look like no accident to me,” Shorty queried his voice doubtful.

“Yeah I mean getting your hand chopped off it’s hardly something you do by accident,” Lonnie quipped.

“I think you better have I.A start an investigation,” Shae said assertively interrupting the conversation as they approached the group.

“Oh, there's no need, we know what happened,” Steph said as she took her cap off.

“Err; perhaps you'd be good enough to enlighten us?” Shae said indicating her and Nicole.

“Well, it was an accident you see there was some important P.I work we needed doing so I pulled Gibson, Gardiner and a few others out of their cells to complete it,” Steph started, “One of them needed to cut a steel pipe so they used a heated axe to do it, but they missed and it caught Gibson instead.”

“Hmm, Seems a convenient excuse,” Nicole quipped.

“I questioned all the parties involved they all had the same story,” Steph argued, shooting Nicole an irritated look, “that’s how it happened.”

“So if we question Waverly later she’ll have the same story,” Nicole queried still not convinced.

“Like I said... the cons all had the same story, as far as I’m concerned it’s been taken care of,” Steph said with finality.

She jammed her cap back on her head.

“…Now I think we should all return to our stations,” She added before walking off.

Steph left the infirmary, York following behind her and Lonnie who seemed satisfied by her explanation However Shorty held back for a beat.

Once the others were out of earshot Nicole stepped closer to Shorty.

“Surely you don’t believe this bullshit do you?” Nicole said incredulous.

“No I don’t. Mercedes Gardiner and a load of her follower’s just happened to be the ones to witness it? No, It’s Steph she’s as crooked as they come, she’s lying to cover her own ass, but there’s not a lot we can do about it unless Waverly herself tells us what actually happened, but I’m gonna be honest I think you have more chances of pigs flying,” Shorty said.

“Well I think I’ve built up a pretty decent relationship with her maybe with a bit of coercing she’ll tell me,” Nicole suggested.

“You can try,” Shorty said, “But I think you’ll be disappointed.”

“We don’t even know what it was over, it could be over anything; an argument, drugs, cigarettes, phone cards, smuggling something in, the possibilities are endless,” Shae cut in.

“It could even just be Mercedes has taken a disliking to her,” Shorty added, “It wouldn’t be the first time she’s done that.”

“Well whatever it was, it was evidently worth losing a hand over,” Nicole commented.


[2 Days Later]

Waverly was in a secluded part of the courtyard raking the grass as part of her P.I work, she twisted her hand in a slightly unusual way and visibly winced but carried on. She had been lucky. The hospital had managed to re-attach her hand in a surgery they called replantation; they had even managed to re-attach almost all her nerves too which apparently was a relatively new surgery. It had been a success, however there were still a few that couldn’t be re-attached and would need to grow back again, but luckily she had 90% feeling back and it apparently was one of the best surgeries they had done so far according to the hospital. There was excessive bruising around the area where it was cut, which was bandaged and it hurt quite a bit in that area, but besides that the rest of her hand despite being a bit tingly was pretty much pain free, in fact she had only been there a day before they decided it was fine for her to return to Prison. Waverly had trouble sleeping since she got back, a combination of only being allowed a certain amount of painkillers a day and worry over Mercedes Gardiner.

At the fence nearby that cut off the solidarity confinement part of the prison from the rest of general population, not far from where Waverly was raking stood Wynonna, who was clearly pissed off, she slammed her hand against the fence in anger.

“I'm gonna kill that scum,” Wynonna half-shouted angrily.

“No you won't, if you kill her you kill our express ticket out of here,” Waverly said calmly as she continued raking.

“Look what she did to you. You're not gonna last a second in this place unless I do something about it,” Wynonna hissed gesturing to Waverly’s injured hand as she did this.

“I should be thanking her really, I can play piano again now. I haven’t been able to do that properly since I broke my wrist at 18,” Waverly commented nonchalantly.

“Fat lot of good that’ll do in here” Wynonna muttered.

“You ever hear of Top Flight Charters?” Waverly asked.

“Yeah?” Wynonna replied confused at the change of conversation.

“They operate flights from small airfields across the Midwest, like the one 10 miles from here. They're run by a shell corporation Mercedes owns, if we get her on board, there's gonna be a midnight flight waiting for us the night we get outside those walls,” Waverly explained.

It dawned on Wynonna.

“You're telling me you’re willing to risk the entire escape on someone you don't even know?” she said incredulously.

“Preparation can only take you so far. After that, you've got to take a few leaps of faith,” Waverly answered.

Wynonna slammed her hand against the fence again in frustration. Then she walked a few steps away trying to calm herself down.

“Mercedes is a huge leap of faith, Waverly,” Wynonna said as she turned back to face Waverly frustrated.

“I'm not just talking about Mercedes. There's someone else who holds the key to this entire thing. With her, it either works or it doesn't. Problem is, I couldn't know who that was until I got in here,” Waverly explained.

Waverly turned and motioned her head in the direction of Rosita who was being led into the Prison yard by York and Hamilton seemingly her time in the shoe was up, she put her hands in her pockets and walked into the main courtyard seemingly towards the phone.

“Rosita Bustillos? You can't be serious. The woman's a thief and a known drug dealer Waverly, she can't be trusted,” Wynonna said.

“We're gonna have to trust her because she's my cellmate,” Waverly said.

“How well do you even know her?” Wynonna asked concerned.

“As well as a woman can in slightly over a week I suppose,” Waverly answered.

“Why do we need Boobs McGee anyway? Is she going to pull a secret key out of her tatas or something?” Wynonna said sarcastically.

“Very funny,” Waverly said, “What’s with all the talk about her tits anyway, I’m supposed to be the gay one,” she added amused.

“Well you can hardly miss them can you?” Wynonna commented jokingly, then her face turned serious, “You know if you tell her, and she tells everyone, we're done. You know that, right?” she warned her.

“If we don't get her on board, there's not gonna be any digging in that cell, and if there's no digging in that cell... then there's no escape,” Waverly said with finality, “But listen I have an idea…”


Having just been released from the Shoe, the first thing Rosita did was rush over to the phone on the far end of the courtyard. She hadn’t called her Fiancée in days, and had even missed her birthday. Rosita needed to call and apologise, and explain herself before her Fiancée wondered what had happened to her. She rang Kiersten’s mobile phone a few times but it seemed to go straight to voicemail, it wasn’t even ringing out. Out of options Rosita tried calling Kiersten’s home phone number and hoped she was there.

“Thank you for calling. Please leave a message after the tone,” the automated phone message chimed in Rosita’s ear then finished off with a long beep.

“Kiersten, it's me, baby,” Rosita said quickly, “Are you there? Please pick up if you're there. I've been in the Shoe. I've been thinking about you, I’m sorry I missed your birthday but the stupid guards wouldn’t let me call you,” She rambled.

The sound of someone picking up the receiver echoed down the phone.

“Hello Rosita?” the voice on the other end said wearily.

“Oh err, hello Mrs Lesko how are you doing?” Rosita said nervously, recognising the voice as Kiersten’s mum.

“Um, sorry to bother you at home” she continued, “But, um, do you know what's up with Kiersten’s cell phone? It just keeps going straight to voicemail.”

“Maybe she has it turned off,” Mrs Lesko said abruptly.

“Um ok, any chance you know where she is then?” Rosita asked politely.

“I know exactly where she is,” Mrs Lesko confirmed.

Rosita waited a beat then when it was obvious that Mrs Lesko wasn’t going to give her any more information then she said “And that'll be…?”

“With her friends, they're at the mall, I think,” She answered.

“Oh ok,” Rosita said, “I don't suppose next time you see her you could have her turn her phone back on..?”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Suddenly feeling a burst of confidence Rosita decided to confront Mrs Lesko on the elephant in the room:

“Look Mrs Lesko, I know you don't like me, I get it. A woman, in prison no less, is not the type of partner you imagined for your daughter, but I love her and she loves me and we're gonna get married one day, you know?” she continued.

Mrs Lesko scoffed, “If you were a decent woman and you really loved her, you'd let her live her life.”

“What the hell's that supposed to mean?” Rosita said offended.

“I'll tell her you called,” Mrs Lesko said sounding resigned and hung up.

“No wait!” Rosita said but it was too late she’d already gone.

Rosita smacked the phone against the side of the payphone box several times aggressively, angry and frustrated with the outcome of the conversation; several inmates were now staring at her like she’d gone mad.

“Oi Rosita, leave some of the phone left for us,” one of them yelled.

Rosita stopped, huffed angrily and slammed the phone back into the receiver. Deep down she knew Mrs Lesko was only looking out for her daughter but couldn’t she see Rosita wasn’t a bad person? She was just a victim of circumstance. Rosita sighed and sauntered off back to the yard to sulk.


Later back in their cell, Rosita lay on her bunk looking at a picture of herself and Kiersten. Both of them were smiling, their arms wrapped around each other tightly despite the cold air turning Kiersten’s pale nose pink and causing her long blond hair to slightly obscure Rosita’s lower face.
Meanwhile on the bunk below Waverly lay on her back twirling the bolt around in her fingers absentmindedly, as she did this she thought about the next stage of her plan…


Back in her apartment, Waverly paced back and forth studying her master-plan, she had planned everything down to the last detail, but there were some things she knew she couldn’t predict hence why she came up with this new idea. It was the only way to test if she could truly trust her cell mate whoever they may be. Waverly just prayed it was someone not only trust worthy but someone whose crime wasn’t too serious, after all if they wanted in on the breakout as well which she assumed they more than likely would she would rather break out a petty thief or minor drug dealer than a murderer. She looked up at her Post-it note on her window on it she had written the words 'CELL TEST'.

Waverly stopped playing with the bolt as she came out of the memory and hid it between the mattress strings and metal frame above her on Rosita’s bunk, and then reaching into her pocket produced what seemed to be a black flip-phone, she studied it. Her test. This was the most important part of this plan, hopefully Rosita can be trusted.


The next day in the Prison Workshop Johnson stood grinding some metal down for re-purpose, when Beth Gardiner casually walked in holding a book in her right hand and made her way over to her. Johnson immediately stopped what she was doing when she saw the head of the Widows walk up to her

“I'm looking to do some damage,” Beth said casually.

“Well, you've come to the right place,” Johnson said smirking and gestured to the workshop around her. Indeed, it was full of various dangerous machinery and tools. However it also had a security camera near the workbench watching the inmates to make sure none of them stole anything that could be used as a weapon.

“I want to do it slow,” Beth articulated then she leant in close to Johnson and in a low voice said, “Inflict the maximum amount of pain so she wishes she was dying, or to get it over with, but just can't quite get there.”

“Oh, I got that,” Johnson boasted with a smirk.

Beth smirked as well excited by the prospect.

“I got that,” Johnson repeated quietly as she walked over to another workbench.

Johnson bent down; angling her back to the camera so as to obscure the camera view, reached under the workbench and retrieved an extremely jagged, specifically designed knife made from scrap metal. It had three large points and other smaller jagged edges.
Johnson then held it up in front of her in a way so Beth could see the weapon but her body was still obstructing the camera’s view.

“I call it The Gutter,” She said proudly, “You jam it right up there in the stomach, and these bits right here …” She pointed to the large points, “…hook the intestines, you give it a pullback... the poor sucker's guts are hanging out of her stomach and she'll get a real good look at 'em 'cause the wound's not fatal. At least not until the infection sets in.”

She angled her body once again to continue obstructing the security camera’s view as she passed the weapon over to Beth who immediately hid it inside the book she was carrying.

Beth leant in closer to Johnson and whispered, “You're one sick bitch, you know that?” in a jesting compliment.

Johnson smiled happily and whispered, “Thank you.”

Beth smiled an evil smile and patted her on the shoulder before exiting the workshop.


Waverly walked into the visiting room holding her injured arm which was hurting quite badly. Waiting at their usual table was Doc, he stood up when he realised Waverly was injured.

“What the hell happened?” he asked shocked and concerned.

“I'm okay,” Waverly said waving off his concern.

They both sat down

“They've gotten to you, haven't they?” Doc guessed, “The other prisoners? My God, Waverly, this place is gonna kill you.”

“Doc really I’m fine. You said you talked to someone, a woman. What was her name?” Waverly asked changing the subject.

“Her name was Debbie,” Doc answered.

“Debbie Donner?” Waverly questioned.

“How do you know that?” Doc quizzed his brow furrowing in confusion.

“A year ago, I was doing exactly the same thing you're doing, trying to find out the truth. It's a bottomless pit Doc. Whoever’s doing this designed it that way. So that by the time we got to the bottom of it, Wynonna would be dead,” Waverly said defeated.

“Why didn't you tell me you were doing this?” Doc asked.

“Once the date was set, once that final appeal had been rejected, she had 90 days to live. I figured I could play their game and watch her die in the process, or I could take matters into my own hands.” Waverly admitted.

“That’s why you’re in here isn’t it?” Doc asked, “To break her out.”

“You already know the answer,” Waverly said.

“You don't have to do that. Debbie knows something, I can get it out of her. Maybe then we can reopen Wynonna's case.” Doc said.

“What did she tell you?” Waverly asked now intrigued, Debbie had flat out refused to answer any questions she had when she visited her last.

“She said that somebody else was behind the killing of the vice-president's husband,” Doc recounted.

“Did she say who?” Waverly said.

“Nah she got spooked, she took off before I could get anything more out of her but the way she was looking around makes me think someone might be following her.” Doc admitted.

“It must be the same people who framed Wynonna, maybe they silenced Keegan so he couldn’t testify.” She said.

“It seems that way, but I need more information before I can prove anything, I’m hoping Debbie can provide me with an official statement,” Doc said.

“It’s best to get it sooner rather than later, if they know about Keegan then it won’t be long before they realise who you are and that you’re snooping around Debbie,” Waverly warned him, “She could end up the same way Keegan did.”

“It’s a risk I gotta take,” Doc said with a sigh.

They paused for a moment.

“How’s Alice holding up,” Waverly said changing the subject again.

“Not doing so well,” Doc admitted sadly, “She’s been really upset about the whole ordeal; she’s been acting out as well apparently. I gotta call this morning from Gus. Alice was caught by the cops with a backpack full of marijuana.”

“Holy shit,” Waverly gasped in shock.

“I know,” Doc concurred, “She’s lucky to avoid juvenile prison, but as far as I understand she has to meet with a probation officer every week, and she’ll need to attend one of their youth programs.”

Waverly shook her head in shock.

“God Alice,” she exasperated as she sighed heavily.

“I’m so sorry Doc,” She added reaching over and touching his hand gently.

Doc waved her concerns off.

“It’s ok it’s not your fault,” Doc said, “She’s just not taking all this well at all, I mean how can we expect a fifteen year old girl to cope with what’s happened over the last few months.”

Waverly breathed in.

“The poor girl, I can’t imagine what she’s going through,” she said worried.

“Probably hell, but she’s strong like Wynonna damn stubborn too. She’ll be fine in the end, but at this moment in time I imagine she’s hurting quite badly,” Doc affirmed.

They continued talking, moving onto less depressing topics when the bell overhead rang signalling the end of visiting time both Doc and Waverly stood up and embraced each other.

“Debbie as far as I know is holed up in the Elysian Fields Projects, I'm gonna go see her this afternoon.” Doc mentioned.

“That place is dangerous. You should really take someone with you,” Waverly said concerned.

“Like who?” Doc asked.

“I dunno, you maybe could take Martha?” Waverly commented with a soft smirk.

“I think Martha is probably the last person in the world I would ever take with me to a place like that,” Doc admitted with a chuckle.

“It's good to see you,” Waverly softly intoned.

“You too,” Doc affirmed softly.

They shared another hug.

“Be safe,” Waverly said concerned.

“I will and you too,” Doc said and his face dropped a bit as he said, “Oh and Waverly… if you see Wynonna, tell her I’m sorry about what I said...”

“Sure, of course,” Waverly said with a small smile, “Give my love to Alice.”

“I will I promise,” Doc said with a smile.

They both went their separate ways, Doc to be signed out and Waverly back towards A- block, both concentrating on the mission ahead of them.


In the probation office sat Alice, Gus and Curtis, along with the probation officer herself a smartly dressed black woman in a pink suit with a tight bun and fashionable glasses who was flicking through Alice’s file with a curious look on her face.

“No priors, a good student, and then you get yourself arrested for intent to sell. Did life get a little boring?” The officer commented in jest.

“It was stupid. It won't happen again,” Alice said quietly and more than a little embarrassed.

“Well, we're all here to make sure of that. I took some time to speak to your guardians before you came in. They told me that there were some... some extenuating circumstances in your life, right-” The officer started gently.

“If you're talking my mother, then I gotta tell ya, she's got nothing to do with this,” Alice cut in curtly.

“She refuses to talk about her,” Gus said.

“Why should I? It’s not like she’s been there for me,” Alice spat.

“Alice,” Gus scolded her.

“It's clear to me you've got a lot of anger, young lady,” The probation officer said seriously, “Misdirected, it could land you in the wrong place. So, to make sure that doesn't happen, you're gonna check in with me once a week, on Fridays, for one hour. Your attendance at school and your grades are to be pristine...”

“Absolutely,” Alice cut in nonchalantly.

“…And to give you a real good idea where that anger of yours will get you if you don't reign it in, I'm signing you up for the ‘Scare It Straight’ program at Fox River. You'll have a mentor who you'll work with weekly. It'll give you a little perspective,” She continued as she wrote notes in Alice’s file.

“A mentor?” Alice asked confused.

“Your mother,” The officer commented.

Alice sighed and put her head in her hands. Of course it would be.


Meanwhile back in Fox River, The P.I crew were painting another room in the Prison, Wynonna wasn’t on this shift but Waverly and Rosita both were. Rosita was concentrating on painting one of the walls when Waverly strolled over casually to the table next to her and catching Rosita’s eye, who seemed to realise she was up to something Waverly sensed this was the perfect time to put her test into action.
Checking behind her to make sure the Prison guards on P.I duty were too busy talking to each other instead of watching the cons, she unfolded a dirty cloth on the table and pulled out the black flip-phone from her pocket and checking again wrapped it up like a baby in a bundle in the cloth before opening the small power box on the wall next to her.

“Please tell me that isn't what I think it is,” Rosita quietly commented to Waverly.

“It isn't what you think it is,” Waverly repeated deadpan, as she put the mobile phone in the power box and shut it.

“Waverly. A cell phone in here? That's criminal sin number one. They can add two years onto your bid, automatically,” Rosita hissed.

“Only if they catch you,” Waverly quipped.

“Do you know what kind of trouble I can get for just knowing about this?” Rosita stated her voice getting slightly higher.

“Sh, sh, sh, sh, sh,” Waverly shushed her aware of the other cons and the not too far away prison guards, she didn’t want this plan to go up in smoke over a simple test.

“It’s fine I won’t get caught,” Waverly reiterated.

“You can’t predict tha… Hey wait a minute, doesn’t that now mean you can make calls whenever you want?” Rosita asked a sudden realisation coming to her.

Waverly paused; she didn’t like the look in Rosita’s eyes. They were shining in a way that reminded her of a child at a fairground ride, excited and overly happy.

“Don’t get any ideas! What's in there, you never saw it. Ok?” Waverly said assertively with a serious expression on her face.

Waverly walked over to the other side of the room joining a few other cons that were painting the wall over there. Rosita watched her as she went thinking, “Damn it I knew it was too good to be true.” She sighed and went back to her painting.


During this time in Wynonna’s cell, Nedley stood with Lonnie, Shorty, and York, Lonnie handed Wynonna a piece of paper. It was a paper with an empty space for names to watch her execution.

“Why didn't you include any names?” Nedley asked softly.

“Why would I want anyone to watch me die?” Wynonna commented curtly.

“I've seen it happen a number of ways. Some people want to go it alone, others have grandio statements they want to make… but most want some member of their family there before they leave this world,” Nedley explained.

“I'll do it alone,” Wynonna affirmed handing the sheet back to Nedley.

“Hun, in my opinion, all inmates who have made that choice have deeply regretted it in their final minutes,” Nedley advised, “I'll, um... Tell you what leave it blank for now. You have slightly over 8 weeks now. You should give it some thought,” he continued.

He placed the sheet of paper on the foot of Wynonna’s bed then he smiled softly in understanding before leaving her cell, the guards in tow.
Wynonna sat down on the bed picking up the paper and taking another quick look at it she thought of the people she loved, “Why the hell would I put them through the trauma of watching me bite the dust,” she thought confused. Still in that moment Wynonna felt lonelier than she ever had before.
Hopefully Waverly’s escape plot was going to plan because Wynonna couldn’t bear the thought of dying alone for a crime she hadn’t even committed.

Wynonna lay back and returned to her thoughts.


Doc parked his car outside the limits of the Elysian Fields Project, and walked down the neighbourhood. It was easy to see this was a poor neighbourhood with graffiti sprayed on the wall behind a nearby shop. Kids hung around on bikes outside the local shops some doing wheelies down the road showing off, miserably trying to look tough overhead a downtown train rattled down the tracks. With his western look and bushy out of date moustache Doc definitely looked out of place here.

He walked up to a block of flats and entered, inside was a lone black woman in a hoody lighting up a cigarette on her way out.

“Excuse me ma’am I'm looking for Debbie Donner.” Doc said politely, tipping his hat slightly as he said this.

The woman nodded her head towards the stairs, “she’s in five.” She said flatly then continued on her way out before Doc could ask her anything else, cigarette in mouth the smoke blowing out of her nose like a dragon.

“Thank you,” Doc said as she exited the building.

He walked up the stairs to find Apartment 5 was the first door he came to on his left, the door was slightly ajar and this made Doc’s heart drop with terror. He pushed the door open and walked in.

“Hello?” he called out his voice wavering slightly.

Suddenly he felt a cold metal barrel graze the back of his head startling him.

“Don't you move a fucking muscle,” The voice of Debbie Donner said from behind him.

Doc stood frozen in fear his hands raised in mid-air whilst the cold metal barrel of the gun dug sharply into him. One wrong move and he could end up potentially injured or dead.

“Woah now take it easy, Debbie,” Doc said softly.

“You're working with them, aren't you?” Debbie accused, “Do you think I'm stupid man? I hear the clicks on my phone, I see the cars out there on the street.”

“I know you're scared. Hell I am too, but please put the gun down,” Doc said softly.

Doc eyes scanned the room trying to find anything he could calm her down with but he couldn’t find much in fact all he could find was a pile of packed bags and suitcases, it dawned on him she was fleeing.

“Where you going?” Doc asked inquisitively.

“Ireland,” She answered, “What difference does it make?”

“It makes all the difference, nobody's ever gotten your testimony,” Doc replied.

“That's exactly the reason I'm still breathing,” Debbie asserted.

Debbie lowered the gun and continued stuffing more of her belongings into the open bags in a timely manner. Doc sighed in relief and wiped the small droplets of sweat that had materialised from his brow then he turned to face Debbie.

“I'm not with them, Debbie, whoever ‘They’ are, you have to believe me,” Doc assured her

“Oh yeah?” Debbie said unamused clearly not believing him, “Then what you sneaking in here for?”

“I thought maybe they'd gotten to you,” Doc reasoned.

Debbie snorted then said “And why do you care so much about my well-being all of a sudden?”

“I don't,” Doc admitted with a shrug.

“Finally, an honest answer,” she said.

“…But there is someone I do care about. Maybe you can save Wynonna, and maybe you can bring down the guys who killed your boyfriend in the process. If somebody killed you and Keegan could have done something to the guys who did it, don’t you think he would've?” Doc said.

“I'm not as strong as he was. I can't take those people on,” Debbie said defeated.

Doc stooped down to Debbie’s level, and she turned to face him. He could see she was clearly frightened, and Doc was starting to think she had a good reason to be scared. It seemed this was bigger than either of them could have imagined.

“I'll take 'em on. All you have to do is come to my office and tell me what you know. I'll type it up you can sign the affidavit and split. I'll even take you to the airport myself,” He promised.

She breathed in sharply still clearly afraid but she held his gaze despite the fear reflected in her bright green eyes and slowly nodded in agreement.

“All right I’ll do it,” she avowed.


Back at Fox River Wynonna ambled around her part of the Courtyard with her hands in her pockets and peeking over towards general population’s Courtyard.
There she could see several cons she recognised milling about chatting, her eyes scanned the yard until she came across her target. Rosita. She was babbling on to a load of her friends in Spanish, stopping occasionally to laugh or joke about something. She made a dialling motion with her hands bringing it up to her ear as though talking on a cell phone the other cons with her laughed and slapped her on the back with vigour.
Wynonna watched this with fascination and a little smile grew on her face.


When it was time up in the Courtyard for Wynonna she was led back to the solitary confinement unit by York. At the other end of the hall stood Steph Jones giving orders to a lesser known prison guard. Time to put this into action.

“Hey Blondie,” Wynonna yelled over.

Steph sighed in resignation.

“What do you want Wynonna?” she said snottily as she walked over.

Wynonna smiled.

“I want some extra time outside for the next couple of weeks,” Wynonna chirped happily.

Jones snorted then laughed incredulously.

“Paint fumes and P.I must be getting to you,” she sneered and began to walk off.

”I see so cell phones are allowed in here then?” Wynonna commented nonchalantly.

Steph stopped in her tracks and turning back towards Wynonna and getting very close to her face she asked:


“I dunno but maybe if I had some extra time outside, and a couple of doughnuts I’d remember,” Wynonna considered, scrunching her face as though in thought.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Jones said, “How about this; half an hour, one week, one doughnut.”

Wynonna scrunched up her face as though thinking again before smiling and nodding as she walked into her cell.

“Know a con named Rosita Bustillos?” Wynonna said leaving the implication open to interpretation.

Jones smiled evilly as she shut the door, happy to have a reason to taunt one of the inmates.
She took off to find Rosita.

“Oh and my favourite donut is a jelly-filled, powdered, bacon donut,” Wynonna yelled after her.

She smiled proud of herself and pleased to get the extra time and a donut, god when was the last time she’d had a donut? Rosita on the other hand wouldn’t know what hit her… She hoped she was prepared.


Meanwhile in the Visiting room, Mercedes Gardiner sat with ‘Killer’ Miller, Miller was dressed in a sharp suit with a blood red dickie-bow tie, his face was freshly clean shaven and he had a recent short close to the head haircut. He seemed disappointed.

“This is what I don't understand, Mercedes. Hetty Tate talks, she puts you in prison for life, and yet you act like you don't even want to find out where she is.” Miller said impatiently.

“Oh come on Jim, you know that’s not true,” Mercedes countered angrily.

“Well it seems like it is to me from where I’m standin’. I dunno maybe it's 'cause you don't think you have anything to lose, you know? I mean you're already locked up in here, maybe, um... maybe you like it here now. I don't know.” Miller goaded her and shrugged his shoulders.

Mercedes laughed sarcastically.

“…But what I do know is that if Hetty Tate testifies in two months, I’m gonna be in the same position you are right now and I am not going to let that happen,” Miller warned her.

“I don't think you would fit into Prison life Jim,” Mercedes said with a nasty laugh, “Fancy shoes, ties, and shirts swapped for a Prison jumpsuit and sweats, not really your style is it?”

“I think you're right” Miller confirmed, “So, let's cut to the chase. Did you break this girl? Did she tell you where Hetty Tate is?

Mercedes took a big breath and sighed then with a slight grimace she shook her head.

“No,” Mercedes started, “Me and a couple of girls cornered her on the way back from medical, we took her to the P.I shed, threatened her with a heated axe, maximum pain, minimum damage, I gave her several chances to talk, I even cut her hand off in the end, she wouldn’t crack.”

‘Killer’ Miller cocked his head slightly seemingly interested in the story then he asked:
“And where is that hand now?”

“Reattached to her wrist, guards grabbed it before I could,” Mercedes murmured.

Miller sighed in resignation.

“Well, perhaps you should consider using a different method then,” Miller said, “From what I gather there are far worse threats in prison other than bodily harm.”

“What happened to the days when you used to trust that I would get things done?” Mercedes said clearly pissed off.

“Those were the days when you actually did get things done, Mercedes,” Miller replied calmly.

There was a pause.

“Look Mercedes I like you, but I don’t want to end up in Prison and neither do my associates so either you get this sorted out or we’ll be lookin’ for someone else who can sort it for us, someone more …equipped for the job” Miller stipulated carefully.

Mercedes breathed in deeply.

“So you’re saying if I don’t take care of this I’m out?” Mercedes inferred cutting through the bullshit.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures Mercedes, the main reason you’re still in charge is because of your power and influence but that’s slipping day by day. Whilst you’re in here there are others waiting out there in the side-lines for an opportunity to take your place,” Miller explained, “…And remember you may think you’re safe in here with your little prison gang but you’re not the only person in here the mafia has connections with.” He warned.

Mercedes nodded in understanding

“..Now I trust you’ll get this done, right?” Miller finished.

“Right” Mercedes said determined.

“Great,” he said, “Be well Mercedes.”

Miller got up, tightened his bow-tie and smoothed his hair then with one last polite smile directed at Mercedes he left the vicinity, satisfied with the outcome of his visit.
Mercedes on the other hand made a rude one-fingered gesture behind Miller’s back before being led back to gen-pop.


Back in the main part of the Prison, Steph Jones smiled evilly as she filled in a form. She had found Rosita and was enjoying watching the fear descend on her face as she dragged her away before she could start her P.I duties. Jones put down the completed form and opened the heavy metal door smiling to herself as she did this.

“How are those conjugal visits going with that girlfriend of yours?” Jones asked as she entered the room closing the metal gate behind her, “I imagine they’re pretty good for you, huh? You know, visitation rules stipulate that conjugals are really supposed to be only for heterosexual married couples?”

“We're engaged,” Rosita countered, “Besides I’ve earned it 'cause I ain't caused any trouble in this place.” She paused then continued, “Please, don't take my conjugals from me.”

“I won't,” Jones promised.

“Thank you,” Rosita said relieved.

“But…” Jones started, “…In exchange, you have to tell me where that cell phone is.”

Rosita looked up sharply at Jones anxiously, perplexed and in shock.

“Cell phone?” She parroted.

“Don't play stupid with me I'm giving you the chance to save your precious conjugals. You lie to me they're gone and they're never coming back. Now where's that cell phone?” Jones said sharply.

There was a long pause.

Rosita simply stood there as Jones circled around her like an animal eyeing its prey. She had no idea how Jones could possibly know about the phone, she’d told no one. Sure she’d made jokes about a mobile phone but she hadn’t told anyone she knew there was actually one inside the prison itself. Now she had the awful predicament of either ratting out her cell mate, a woman who she actually liked and didn’t want to get on the wrong side of especially when her sister was none other than Peacemaker herself. But then again if she didn’t rat out Waverly then she risked missing out on the precious little private time she had weekly with Kiersten. It wasn’t a choice she wanted to make but unfortunately it was one she had to make.

She made her choice…


During this time Waverly and Wynonna were on painting duty on P.I they were on the opposite sides of a column passing glances every now and then. Both had witnessed Rosita being grabbed by Jones on the way to P.I and both were anxious to know the outcome of Rosita’s interrogation.
Wynonna walked to the other side of the room to get some more paint since the bucket she and Waverly were using was getting low.
Suddenly at that moment the heavy metal door at the end of the room opened and Rosita slinked in followed by Jones who looked extremely pissed off. Rosita and Jones walked over dangerously close to the metal box the phone was hiding. Waverly and Wynonna exchanged a nervous glance and Waverly held her breath in anticipation.

“Turner!” Steph Jones yelled sharply to an inmate who was cleaning the floor in the corner breaking the tension the inmate looked up curiously at the sound of her name.

“Your transfer came in, they want you in administration,” Jones continued yelling.

Jones patted Rosita on the back as she took the place of the Turner who gave her a small smile as she passed before exiting with Jones off to the admin bock.

Wynonna casually walked over to Waverly with the paintbrush and bucket in hand.

“She didn't talk,” she confirmed quietly in her ear, then continued painting next to her.

Rosita waited a beat until she was sure Jones was gone and the other Officers weren’t in sight then she stormed over to them.

“All I gotta say is I better get to make all the calls I want,” Rosita fumed.

“Gonna be kinda hard,” Waverly said as she opened the metal box and took the bundle out, checking all the time no P.O’s were watching her. She stepped closer to Rosita and handed her the phone from out of the dirty cloth.

Rosita looked at it. Now she could see it up closer she could see that it had several inconstancies and was slightly misshapen to be a phone, it looked like a lump of something shaped vaguely like a phone and painted black and silver, not to mention it felt…wrong she brought it closer to her nose and smelt it, it was fragrant. Was it…?
She snapped the phone in half to reveal it was as she suspected actually painted soap.

“Soap?” Rosita said in disbelief.

She threw the two halves of the soap phone at Waverly which hit her in the chest before falling to the floor.

“Are you joking? I lost my conjugals over fucking soap?” Rosita half shouted under her breath angrily.

“Listen you may have lost your conjugals but I can do you one better, I can get you to her,” Waverly said in an attempt to calm Rosita down.

“You can get me to Kiersten?” Rosita said confused.

“Yes,” Waverly replied quietly.

“Yeah? And how you gonna do that?” Rosita asked incredulously.

“We're breaking out of here,” Waverly answered indicating her and Wynonna.

“How?” Rosita asked in surprise.

“It starts in our cell,” Waverly replied

“In our cell?” Rosita parroted.

Waverly looked around and seeing a C.O a little too close for comfort took Rosita to one side and ushered her to the other side of the column.

“To tell you the truth, it's already started,” Waverly continued.

Meanwhile Wynonna picked up the broken pieces of the soap phone that lay on the floor in case one of the C.O’s caught sight of it and slipped them into her pocket.

“Ah... Are you crazy? You think I want to break out of here? 22 months from now, I'm out the gate and I'm getting married, and I'm sure as hell as hell not doing it with no police on my ass. I should be beating you 6 days 'til Sunday. I can’t believe I lost my conjugals because of your stupid bar of soap!” Rosita exclaimed.

“I know your conjugals mean a lot to you but I had to test you to see if you could keep a secret,” Waverly said softly.

“You want a secret? I got a secret for you, Waverly. You dig in our cell when I'm there and I'm gonna wring your neck like a turkey, you got that?” Rosita assured angrily, then she stormed off back to her P.I work as Waverly watched her in disbelief.

“That went well,” Wynonna muttered.

“She’ll be fine,” Waverly opined, “She’s just angry right now because she lost her conjugals, she’ll come around.”

“You sure about that, Boobs McKenzie looked pretty pissed off to me,” Wynonna countered.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Waverly said assuredly.

In reality she was worried though. This was not the response she had been expecting, she’d thought Rosita would jump at the chance to escape; now it seemed Rosita could be yet another obstacle in getting out of here. Waverly sighed and continued her P.I work.


In Doc’s office Doc sat at his desk ready to write Debbie’s testimonial on paper, Debbie herself was sat on the other side of the desk opposite Doc looking around the office nervously.

“Why don't we start with Wynonna's relationship with your boyfriend?” Doc said looking up at Debbie.

She sighed, “Real simple. She owed my man 90 thousand and she wasn't getting it done. Then all of a sudden, it gets done. Keegan walks up with 90K and a big smile on his face” Debbie explained agitated.

“Who paid him?” Doc asked intrigued as he wrote this down.

“Not Wynonna that’s for sure she didn’t have that kind of money, they paid her marker,” Debbie confirmed.

“Who's 'they'?” Doc asked as he continued writing.

Debbie rubbed her arms up and down then looking at Doc with an uncomfortable expression she got up and walked to the other side of the room by the large windows looking out and breathing deeply.

Doc got up abandoning his paperwork and approached Debbie but not too close as to scare her.

“It's alright Debbie, I told you, you're safe here,” He said gently.

Debbie took a deep breath to calm herself and once again looked out the window checking she couldn’t see any suspicious looking vehicles then continued:

“Keegan bought this guy home, never seen him before. Keegan did what he always did when he was doing big business, he told me to take a walk, so that's exactly what I did. There was something about this guy though, he wasn't the kind of guy Keegan usually dealt with.” She explained.

She remembered the man as clear as day he was unusual, not the type of type of guy to associate with Keegan he was very clean cut and wearing casual clothes that he seemed uncomfortable wearing, and he had this strange aura she couldn’t quite put her finger on it yet, he seemed really confident like he knew what was going on and what the outcome of this deal was going to be.

“What do you mean?” Doc said curiously.

“I couldn't put my finger on it 'til he went outside. Then I knew,” Debbie said. “He had that look.”

She remembered looking out the window it was then it hit her the way he walked, his mannerisms, his confidence, it was arrogant, it reminded her of those people in the job centre who thought they were better than you, it was that type of arrogant confidence. The man strolled confidently over to a car meeting two men in suits who were standing near it and after a small conversation all three got in and drove off, it was then she first became suspicious of it all.

“What look?” Doc said bringing her out of her thoughts.

“You know... That they own the place, that they're untouchable… like they're government,” Debbie informed him.

“So the government paid Wynonna's debt?” Doc said intrigued, “Did Keegan say what they wanted in return?”

“Uh-uh,” Debbie replied.

“Alright er, just give me a moment to write this down,” Doc drawled as he continued writing down Debbie’s testimony.

Debbie sat head in her hands, sweating profusely and breathing heavily before finally getting up and walking to the door.

Doc looked up from his paperwork, “Where are you going?” He asked bewildered.

“I need to calm down, I'm gonna have a smoke,” Debbie replied her face the picture of discomfort and stress.

“Look, this’ll only take a minute,” He said concerned.

“So will the smoke,” Debbie countered.

She left Doc’s office before he could convince her otherwise. Doc stopped for a beat and considered following her after all she seemed really stressed out about the whole ordeal, but in the end he decided not to, as a smoker himself he could sympathise with Debbie as a good cigarette is usually what calmed him down too.

“She’s been through a lot recently, maybe some space and a good smoke is just what she needs,” He reasoned in his mind before he went back to writing her testimony.


In the infirmary block back at Fox River after P.I duties were done for the day, Waverly was having her daily check up on her injured hand.

Dr Shae Pressman was currently examining said hand whist Nicole stood in the corer watching with fascination.

“No redness or swelling, so there's no sign of infection. But I'll keep you on antibiotics for the next 10 days just in case,” Shae said satisfied as she finished looking at the heavily bruised and recently re-attached hand.

There was a pause.

“Waverly, you understand by law I'm obligated to file a report if I feel there's been prisoner misconduct. There's no way this injury happened by accident,” Shae continued concern in her voice; she eyed Nicole as she said this who returned the look.

“Honestly it really was just an accident,” Waverly insisted as she sat up from the medical chair.

“Are you sure about that,” Shae asked eyebrows raised.

“Positive, it was just a stupid accident that’s all,” Waverly insisted.

“Ok if you insist,” Shae said with a sigh she gave Nicole another look conveying that she hoped she’d have better luck then said:

“Officer Haught I’m afraid I have an urgent case I must attend to immediately in the infirmary, can you bandage Waverly and administer the antibiotics in my stead?”

“Of course Doctor,” Nicole replied earnestly.

Shae took off her medical gloves threw them away in the medical bin, then picked up her things and made her way out of the office sending another hopeful look Nicole’s way as she did so.

Nicole took a pair of medical gloves herself from the box on the desk then came closer to Waverly examining the hand herself before rummaging in the cupboard for the antibiotics, some fresh bandages, and some ointment.

“Dr Pressman’s right you know, there’s no way this was accidental,” Nicole said as she applied some antiseptic ointment to the wound on Waverly’s hand making her wince slightly as she did this.

Waverly sighed then said, “If you file a report, things could get a lot worse for me.”

“They're not already?” Nicole asked in an open question.

“Not compared to what they could be. I've made some enemies,” Waverly admitted.

“Yeah, you scared?” Nicole asked.

Waverly looked at Nicole but didn’t say anything at first, even though Nicole could see there was some fear in her bright hazel eyes.

Then she admitted, “Maybe a little bit but I can handle myself.”

“Okay, um... here's what I think, I think you’re more scared than you’re making out to be, and you wouldn't be human if you weren't scared in a place like this,” Nicole stated.

Waverly chuckled softly then said:

“It’s a bit like when I was young, I couldn't sleep at night because I thought there was a monster in the closet.”

Nicole smiled at this, it seemed the bogey-man in the closet was the same for everyone regardless of who they were.

Nicole opened the tube and started applying the anti-septic ointment to the painful looking wound as Waverly continued speaking.

“…But my sister told me there wasn't anything in the closet but fear,” Waverly explained she stopped, winced a little from the sting of the anti-septic then continued, “And fear wasn't real, she said it wasn't made of anything, it was just... nothing, she said you just have to face it. You just have to open that door and the monster would disappear.” Waverly continued smiling as she re-countered the nights when she was a small child and scared and would sneak into Wynonna’s room in the dead of night and after a cuddle and some wise words she would calm her down and dissipate her fears before lulling her back to sleep.

“Your sister sounds like a smart woman,” Nicole said with a smile as she finished rubbing in the ointment and began to re-bandage the wound.

“She is,” Waverly said proudly, “In here though you face your fear, you open that door, and there's a hundred more doors behind it. And the monsters that are hiding behind them are all real,” she finished, unintentionally admitting her fear to Nicole.

“If you want, I could recommend you be sent to ADSEC,” Nicole offered lightly as she finished bandaging her up and moved to put the remaining medical supplies away.

“With the Paedophiles and the snitches,” Waverly said sarcastically as she climbed down from the chair, “I think I’ll pass.”

“I know it’s not perfect but it would keep you safe,” Nicole reasoned.

“Thanks, but I think I'd like to face the monsters on my own,” Waverly stressed.

Waverly exited the medical room where Lonnie was waiting to collect her. Nicole watched as she went and sighed.
Shorty was right she had more chances of pigs flying than Waverly telling her the truth.

Nicole picked up her file and looked who was coming up next, then started getting ready for her arrival.


Back in Doc’s office he as just about finished writing Debbie’s testimony when he heard the office door swing open and someone enter.

“Have a good smoke?” Doc said not looking up from his paperwork.

“I don't smoke,” a male voice replied.

Doc’s head shot up instead of Debbie standing in front of him as he was expecting it was instead a tall, muscular, suited, blond man with a smug smirk. He pulled out a chair and sat down making himself comfortable he began to speak.

“Sorry I didn't mean to startle you,” he said and offered his hand to Doc which he shook hesitantly, “Special Agent Allanbach, Secret Service. We've been informed that you obtained a copy of the surveillance tape entered as evidence in the Wynonna Earp trial.”

“Is there a problem with that?” Doc said assertively.

“We're just following up,” Allanbach said carefully.

“Has there been some amendment to the Freedom of Information Act that I'm not aware of?” Doc challenged, he didn’t like this arrogant man.

Allanbach chuckled softly then ignoring Doc’s question chimed in, “You know, when a prisoner gets close to the end of their time on death row, there's a lot of last minute-”

“I'm sorry, I still don't understand why this would be a problem for the Secret Service,” Doc cut in, this man was starting to get on his nerves.

“It's not,” Allanbach chuckled, “The prosecution made its case far beyond any reasonable doubt and we know that we have the right person. That being said, if you come across anything that could shed some light on her innocence... I'm offering my help,” he continued his voice the air of arrogance.

“Sounds great,” Doc said insincerely, “I really appreciate you coming by.”

Both stood up and shook hands, however Doc was getting concerned. He was starting to believe Debbie’s story and the secret service turning up out of the blue was only aggravating this. His mind went to Debbie she was taking a long time having that smoke he hoped Agent Allanbach would be gone before she returned.

“Do you have a card, Agent Allanbach?” Doc asked.

“Course,” Allanbach stated and reaching inside his jacket pocket he produced one and passed it to Doc.

“Thanks,” Doc said.

“Don't hesitate to call,” Allanbach added, as he exited the office.

Doc stood for a few minutes to process what had just happened, Debbie still wasn’t back from her smoke, and as a smoker himself he knew something wasn’t right. He thought a bit more the agent he just came and left pretty amicably... It suddenly dawned on him.

“Debbie...” he said to himself.

Doc threw open the door and raced down the hallway looking out for Debbie hoping the horrible pit in his stomach was just worry for nothing.
He opened the door to the outside smoking balcony to find it empty just a table and an ash tray with a fresh cigarette sitting in it, smoke still rising from it, he dashed out quickly, throwing open the door to the emergency fire stairs and flying down them at top speed, then pulling open the last door he ran out and down the main hall and out of the main entrance of the building. He saw Allanbach enter a sleek black car, another man slammed the car boot and quickly entered the passenger side of the car, which immediately peeled off before Doc had a chance to run over to it.

Doc just stood and watched in disbelief as the car became a tiny speck in the distance.

At that moment his phone rang he retrieved it from his pocket, he didn’t really understand mobile phones but Alice had insisted he got one. It was a small flip phone that didn’t have many functions and was easy to use.

“Hello,” he said as he answered it.

“Dad,” Alice said who was on the other end.

“Alice, I'm so sorry, I’ll have to call later-”Doc said down the phone.

“Err ok Dad,” Doc heard down the other line before he flipped it down.

He watched as the car disappeared from view then put his hands on his head in disbelief.

A million thoughts a minute went through his head. What just happened? Did this really happen? Did the government really kidnap my witness?
Doc stood there dumbfounded and it dawned on him just how deep the corruption was.


Back at Fox River, Mercedes leant against the metal bars of her cell and watched as Waverly re-entered A-wing escorted by Lonnie.

Mercedes cellmate and fellow gang member sat atop the top bunk, she too was looking out towards the wing at Waverly.

“I say we take her entire arm.” Her cellmate piped up.

“We could cut off all her limbs she still wouldn't talk,” Mercedes articulated, “Pain's not the answer here. Maybe The Beatles were right after all. Maybe all you need is love.”

Mercedes eyes roamed down to the ground floor cells. She had a perfect view into her sister’s cell. Beth as far as she could tell was currently lying on her bunk looking at a photograph. Mercedes presumed it was a picture of Maytag. Beth had been sulking the entire week because of the ‘tragedy’, and for now she was also allowed to keep her cell with no roommate. This gave Mercedes an idea…

Waverly approached her cell. Strangely enough it was wide open and there was a small grey box outside a little like the one that she had put her belongings in at check-in. She scrunched her forehead in confusion. What the-

Waverly hurried inside to be greeted by Rosita stuffing the last of her belongings into a pillowcase.

“What are you doing?” Waverly demanded.

“What does it look like I'm doing? I'm switching cells,” Rosita answered harshly.

Waverly grabbed Rosita by the shirt.

“You can't do this!” She insisted.

“I'm done playing your games Fish,” Rosita said brushing Waverly’s hands off of her, “I'm gonna transfer to a nice, quiet cell with a nice normal…well as normal as you can get in here cellie. One who just wants to do her bid and get out of here,” she clarified.

“Look... I'm sorry about your conjugals, but if you go now...” Waverly started but stopped as soon as she heard the loud footsteps of the guards approach their cell, “Don't do this. Please,” She pleaded.

She couldn’t do this! If Rosita left now it would set back her plan by days if not weeks.
Rosita was perfect, she was friendly, trustworthy and the perfect candidate for her plan, now she could be stuck with an inmate she doesn’t really know, can’t trust and may not even like her.

Rosita’s expression softened and her voice changed to something akin to sympathy.

“Listen Waverly. I got 22 months, that’s a little less than two years from now," she started, "I got a fiancée to think about. I can’t take a chance. If I get caught with a hole in my wall, I don't get to see the real world for another five years at least and I can’t risk that.”

At that moment Shorty appeared in front of their cell.

“Let's go, Rosita,” Shorty said kindly.

Rosita nodded and made to leave the cell, but Waverly stepped in front of her.

“There's always a solution, we can work this out,” Waverly whispered in desperation.

“I really am sorry Waverly, but I’m not the person you’re looking for,” Rosita whispered softly.

Waverly sighed in resignation.

Rosita picked up her pillowcase, her picture of her and Kiersten and walked towards the front of their cell to pick up her box of belongings, when she stopped in her tracks and turning back to face Waverly once more, she put her hand on her shoulder and then softly and with a small smile she said:

“Good luck.”

Then she exited the cell and picking up her box of belongings walked away with Shorty to her new cell.
The cell door closed behind her and Waverly was left alone with her thoughts.


Waverly knew it was only a matter of time before Rosita was replaced by someone else and they would be a complete wildcard. Waverly sat down on her bunk and lying on her back she reached up to Rosita’s former bunk she pulled out the screw and twirled it between her fingers, she began to plan the other possible outcomes and solutions to her slightly derailed plan.


Wynonna sat on the floor of her cell, leaning against the cool wall. Reverend Malick was also there perched on the end of her bed, his Bible in hand. He’d made small light conversation when he’d first entered but since then both had been sat in complete silence both just staring ahead at nothing, if you listened closely you could almost hear a pin drop. Hamilton stood at the open cell door keeping a watchful eye on the two in case of any trouble.

Father Malick was a very unpleasant man, he was a greasy looking, small, squat man in his mid-sixties with unwashed messy sandy-brown hair, beard and moustache. His piercing blue eyes were cold and calculating, and you could always hear him coming as his artificial leg made an unusual clacking sound. He wore a typical priest’s uniform, although it looked crumpled as though it hadn’t been ironed, and he always had this putrid smell of body odour on him hence why Wynonna sat far away from him, to be honest she didn’t like the idea he was anywhere near her bed. There was a rumour going around that he thought all women were whores anyway so why he worked in a Prison chapel full of them was anyone’s guess.

“Can I ask you something?” Father Malick finally said breaking the silence.

“Shoot” Wynonna mumbled.

“Why have you denied any family members or loved ones to be there for you in the end?” Malick asked curiously.

“Why would I let them watch me die? I've caused them enough pain,” She confessed.

“Maybe it's not about them watching you die,” Malick said still staring at the wall.

“Ok then maybe it's about me watching them live. That’s the final torture?” Wynonna offered unsure where the Reverend was taking this conversation.

“No. It's about how you want to leave this world,” Malick commented, “What's the last image that you want to take with you? A stranger?”

Wynonna quickly looked at the Reverend; she was pretty sure she saw him mutter, "A whore," under his breath then he turned to look at her, she met his icy blue gaze then turned back and stared at the floor but said nothing. It stayed like that until he finally left, it left Wynonna with some perspective, maybe he was right, maybe Nedley was right, did she want to really leave this world alone? She sat back and thought about it all, still unsure of her decision.


Back in the General Population Cafeteria for evening meal, Beth sat alone playing under the table with the jagged knife she had received from Johnson earlier that day. As she fondled the knife she watched Waverly who was also sat by herself eating. She couldn’t wait to stab that bitch and finally get justice for Maytag.

Finally Waverly got up and returned her tray to the tray return. Beth looked around there was only two guards in the cafeteria and both were distracted.
Beth got up ready to follow Waverly when she felt a hand on her shoulder forcing her to sit back down.

Beth looked up to find her sister Mercedes now stood in front of her, her hand still on her shoulder and a curious smirk on her face.

“Got an issue with our little friend over there?” Mercedes said grinning.

“Why d’ya wanna know? It’s none of your business,” Beth sneered at her sister.

“Everything in here runs through me, you know that,” Mercedes said smugly.

Beth rolled her eyes then looking at Waverly once again her expression turned murderous.

“Maytag's in the ground because of that piece of shit,” Beth divulged.

“So, now you’re after her blood?” Mercedes guessed.

“Oh yeah, every day for the rest of her bid,” Beth hissed.

“Well then dear sister, it seems you and I have something in common for once,” Mercedes said smirking.

Beth looked at Mercedes intrigued.

“You have bad blood with her too?” Beth asked.

“You could say that” Mercedes said cryptically.

Beth nodded, and tilted her head to the side interested as Mercedes sat opposite her.

“I say it’s time we got a little payback don’t you say?” Mercedes reasoned.

Beth snorted and said, “Seems convenient”

“Like you said I got bad blood too and I want rid of, so you gonna help me or what?” Mercedes said sharply.

Beth smiled evilly in reply.

After dinner time was over the inmates lined up to leave the lunch hall. Mercedes had already set her plan in action, her cellmate Dalton walked quickly towards the queue and rushing past she reached and grabbed Waverly pushing her into a nearby door, on the other side stood Mercedes Gardiner and the rest of her cronies.

“Easy, now, Fish” Mercedes said, “Don't make this any harder than it has to be. I think it's time we came to an arrangement, don't you think?”

Waverly looked up at Mercedes frightened only to see out the corner of her eye, Beth emerge from the shadows a wide evil smirk on her face.

Oh shit…

Beth approached Waverly that big smirk growing impossibly wider. She got up close to Waverly’s face, too close for comfort then said in a mocking tone:

“You know, I was thinking I was gonna cut you up from bow to stern as soon as I laid eyes on you but damn, you look so pretty when you're scared, don't you?”

Beth eyed Waverly looking up and down her body and licking her lips aroused. She trailed the gutter lightly along Waverly’s throat making her gulp audibly.

Beth turned to Mercedes.

“I think we ought to get the love out of the way before we move onto the hate,” Beth said.

Turning back to Waverly she continued “What do you say to that, pretty? Hm?”

Beth took a step back and lay the jagged knife down on a shelf.

“Hmm…Yeah, maybe it's time I got a taste of that gorgeous body-” Beth began to say when Mercedes elbowed the side of her face throwing Beth off balance causing her to fall to the floor in a daze.

Mercedes cronies held Beth down and Mercedes punched her hard in the stomach once then left her cronies to hold her down as Beth screamed:

“You fucking lied to me bitch.”

“God, she talks too much,” Mercedes said annoyed and rolled her eyes.

Mercedes then grabbed Waverly by the shoulder and began to lead her towards the door they came in as Beth was getting beaten up by Mercedes’ cronies.

“Now, you and I need to have a conversation,” she stated seriously.

Waverly and Mercedes exited the room and back into the crowd followed by Dalton, leaving the rest of the cronies to finish Beth off.

They moved along with the rest of the line.

“What happened in there was my way of an apology, er, I know I've been going about this whole thing the wrong way,” Mercedes said apologetically.

“We got an inmate down!” One of the guards said behind Waverly and Mercedes as he ran into the room the two had only seconds ago been standing in.

“Come on, we need some help in here!” the guard yelled again.

Waverly looked over her shoulder for a second then continued walking along with Mercedes and the rest of the line.

“I'm trying to make amends here,” Mercedes reasoned,” Let bygones be bygones?”

Mercedes put her hand out for Waverly to shake. Waverly looked at it then back up at Mercedes.

“You're a mercurial woman, Mercedes,” Waverly said cautiously.

“I prefer 'bold',” Mercedes said grinning.

“Alright, let's keep it moving ladies, come on!” Lonnie shouted to the crowd and made a gesture for them to get a move on.

Waverly considered Mercedes outstretched hand one more time, and then firmly shook it in a truce.

The continued walking with the line of convicts outside in the walkway towards A-wing and chatted about their breakout plan.

“Tell me what you need from me,” Mercedes said.

“I need a trade. You get me a plane, I'll get you Hetty Tate,” Waverly stipulated.

“What do you need the plane for?” Mercedes asked.

“I think you know,” Waverly replied.

“I’ll help you, I'm in. You know that, don't you?” Mercedes said seriously, the unspoken implication understood.

“I do,” Waverly affirmed.

“I've just got to know the exact date and time we’re doing this,” Mercedes said.

“I'll tell you soon enough,” Waverly said flatly. After all she hadn’t quite set it all up yet, and she wanted Mercedes on a need to know basis anyway lest Mercedes use it against her.

“Knowledge is power as they say,” She thought internally.

“Soon enough ain't gonna cut it. I need to be outside these walls before Hetty Tate testifies,” Mercedes disclosed.

“Don’t worry you will be,” Waverly replied.

Mercedes laughed sarcastically.

“She testifies in two months,” She rasped.

“Then you'll be out in plenty of time,” Waverly reassured her.

“If not... you're a corpse... so you better cut the crap and tell me the exact date and time so I can start making the arrangements,” Mercedes insisted.

“I don't know if I can trust you with that information yet,” Waverly admitted.

“Why not?” Mercedes asked.

“Like I said Mercedes, you're a mercurial woman,” Waverly expressed.

The line kept moving back on the way to A-wing for evening lockup. Waverly smiled to herself. Well at least one thing was going in her favour this week.


Wynonna was lying on the bed in her cell daydreaming. She was feeling pretty good and looking forward to that jelly-filled powdered donut with bacon sprinkles, and her extra half hour in the Yard later today.

As she lay there she heard footsteps approach her cell and sat up confused.

“I wonder what's going on. It can't be P.I can it? I've already done my P.I work today,” She thought confused.

The cell door rattled then opened. On the other side stood Shorty who entered the cell holding the usual chains she had to wear when being led to the Visitors booth.

“Hey Wynonna, it seems you have a visitor,” Shorty said cheerfully.

“A visitor for me?” Wynonna exclaimed, “Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” Shorty said then added, “Come on I gotta chain you up.”

They were quiet as Shorty put on the chains, then he led her out of the cell and into the secluded area that separated the cells and the visiting area, they stopped as Shorty searched through his keys looking for the right one.

“Who is it?” Wynonna said breaking the silence.

“Pardon?” Shorty said.

“Who’s here to visit me?” Wynonna clarified.

There was a pause then Shorty said:

“It’s your Alice.”

Wynonna nodded and smiled sadly retreating to her thoughts meanwhile Shorty managed to finally find the right key and opened the door. He went to lead Wynonna through when she pulled back halting him.

“Take these off,” she asked holding up the heavy handcuffs.

“Wynonna, you know I can't do that…” Shorty started.

“Come on Shorty, she’s my daughter and I'm in a cage. Please. Just for ten minutes,” She pleaded softly.

“I wish I could but…” Shorty began as he tried to lead her away but she pulled back again.

“Please…” She pleaded once more.

Shorty sighed then he reached for his key belt, pulled out the keys for the handcuffs and gestured for Wynonna to hold her arms up. Wynonna held them up and Shorty took off the handcuffs, then he moved to her feet and took the heavy chains off them too so that she was now completely free of restraints.

“Cause no trouble,” Shorty said in a serious tone.

“Thank you Shorty,” Wynonna said happily, “I won’t forget this.”

“Yeah, yeah, just go on through,” he said motioning to the now open door.

“Thank you,” she said one last time as she went through the door into the visiting room.

In the visiting room Alice sat on the other side of the secluded high risk prisoner visiting cell, Wynonna walked in feeling a lot better for not having the heavy chains on her and sat down facing her daughter.

“Hello Alice,” Wynonna greeted her.

“Hey Mom, So... here we are,” Alice breathed then she laughed nervously.

Wynonna smiled.

“Yeah, how you been?” She asked leaning closer to the glass and resting her arms on the table in front of her.

Alice chuckled.

“You know, in trouble,” Alice replied sheepishly.

“Definitely my kid no doubt about that,” Wynonna thought to herself.

“What about your dad?” Wynonna inquired.

“He's good,” Alice answered, “A little stressed maybe, but besides that he’s good.”

“I, um... I’ve been talking to the chaplain and they'd like me to decide on who I should, err, have at the, um... I guess what I'm trying to say is, when you get to the end you start to realise what's important to you. You know. Who really matters to you and err you know, that leaves you and Waverly. You're the only blood I've got left in this... this world,” Wynonna stuttered unable to say the words.

Alice could feel the tears welling up as Wynonna stumbled through her explanation.

“Mom, I gotta say, I'm not really following what you're saying,” She lied.

“Well, err... in the end, the only thing that matters is love, blood, family, Waverly, you,” Wynonna said.

Alice nodded and wiped away the tears from her eyes.

“Um...” Wynonna started then she had a thought and stopped.

She put her hand up against the metal cage above her head just above the window that separated the two and pushed her fingers through the bars slightly.

“Give me your hand,” she said.

“What are you doing?” Alice said in confusion.

“Give me your hand, Wynonna repeated, “Go on give me your hand.”

Alice hesitated then reaching up she put her hand on the cold metal touching her mother’s hand, only the cage separating their palms.

“I want you to be there when...” Wynonna sad then with a deep breath she continued, “I want you to be there the day before I die. So I can see you. So I can hold you.”

Alice nodded the tears began to well in her eyes again.

“I love you. I've always loved you,” Wynonna said passionately, her eyes began to well up as well.

Alice smiled an awkward apologetic smile and looked deep in her mother’s eyes.

“This whole thing, err... I don't know if I can take it,” she admitted softly.

“Me either,” Wynonna confessed, “Difference is I don't have a choice. You do.”

“I want to try though,” Alice said, “And I mean we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other now I’m attending this program with you.”

“Yeah we will, I look forward to it,” Wynonna affirmed.

They stayed like that touching hands through the cage bars whilst they talked until their time was up and Alice finally had to leave.


Later in the car ride home with Aunt Gus and Uncle Curtis, Alice prepared herself for her father’s wrath. Her dad was a fairly chill guy but she knew how disappointed he was going to be after all that’s gone on with her Mom and Auntie Waverly.

Alice got out the car, walked up the path and opened the front door with her keys; waved Aunt Gus and Uncle Cutis off and entered the house.

“Dad,” Alice called out.

It was strangely quiet she’d expected him to call out to her but she was met with silence.

A little bit confused and afraid, Alice came in shut the door behind her and popped her head into the living room, he wasn’t there.

“Dad,” She called out again.

No answer.

She walked into the kitchen there she found Doc sat at the table asleep his head resting on said table, a tumbler of whiskey beside him.

“Dad,” she said concerned as she walked over to him, “Dad, you ok?”

She shook him. Doc stirred slightly and groggily said,”Wahh.”

His head lolled back down towards the table and Alice shook him again.

“Dad!” She said loudly.

He jolted up at that and looked at Alice groggily.

“Uggh, Alice?” he slurred.

He wiped his eyes, yawned and looked up at the kitchen clock.

“Is that the time? Sorry I must have dropped off,” He apologised.

“Did this have anything to do with it?” Alice said picking up the whiskey tumbler that still had some dregs in the bottom of it and after shaking it around slightly, she then set it back on the table.

“Yeah I suppose that might ‘ave had something to do with it,” he admitted with a slight smirk.

He picked up the glass and drained the remaining dregs.

“I am so sorry,” Doc said, “I met with this woman today and she knew important information about your Mom's case, and then she just disappeared. I think something bad’s happened to her.”

“Look, it’s ok Dad. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress recently and I know I haven’t helped with that…” Alice confessed.

“It’s ok Alice, I know it’s not your fault, all…this is more than a teenager can be expected to handle.” Doc said waving it off.

“So I’m guessing today didn’t go well then,” Alice said.

“No, today was…weird,” Doc confirmed, then he brightened up slightly, “So err…how did today go with your Mom?”

Alice hesitated then said, “I don't know, it went ok I guess?”

Doc smiled a tight smile and sighed.

“I get it,” he said, “It’s not easy watching your Mom go through something like what she’s going through, but she’s a strong woman she’ll get through this. You remind me of her so much sometimes…you know I’ll be fighting the conviction all the way to the end.”

Alice could feel the tears begin to well again but pushed them back.

“Yeah I know,” Alice mumbled.

“So…I think we should talk about your conviction,” Doc sad changing the topic slightly.

Alice sighed.

“I’m sorry Dad,” Alice apologised.

“Never mind that,” Doc said, “Just tell me what happened. Why did you do what you did?”

“I just…I just don’t know” Alice admitted, “I guess I was just… angry I suppose.”

“Because of what’s happening to your Mom?” Doc guessed.

“Yeah, yeah I think that’s probably the main reason,” Alice explained, “I just feel like…I have no control over my life anymore, everything’s just falling apart right in front of me, Mom, Auntie Waverly, whose next, you? It’s stupid really but it’s just all sitting on top of me and I dunno, I felt like if everyone in my life was going down I had nothing to lose I s’pose. Like I said it’s stupid…”

“Alice…” Doc said sympathetically, “You’re not stupid.”

Alice rubbed the back of her neck nervously.

“Look Alice, it can’t be easy for you, hell it ain’t easy for me either, or Waverly, but…this….this is beyond our control. And me and Waverly…well we believe that your Mom may be innocent,” Doc consoled her.

“How? How can you believe she’s innocent? I thought there was video evidence of her shooting that guy, it was on the news!” Alice said incredulously.

“I know, I know but…there’s something not quite right about all this…The way the woman I was interviewing about your Mom’s case disappeared today… it was just right after I got her statement, she didn’t even get to sign it and the government just happened to turn up literally before she disappeared, It’s too much of a coincidence for me,” Doc explained.

“Yeah, I see your point.” Alice said, “I’m still sceptical, but I want to believe it. I want her to be innocent."

“Well I’m beginning to think Waverly was right about this whole thing, that it’s just one big cover up, question now is why?” Doc admitted softly.

“And if Mom is innocent, then who really killed Greg Locado?” Alice added.

“That too,” Doc agreed, “And for what purpose.”

Doc rubbed his sore neck it had a crick in it from being asleep on the table in a bad position half of the day.

“Ugh, I should have not had that last whiskey,” Doc complained as he stood up and moved the tumbler to the sink.

He rinsed the tumbler out and set it on the side to dry then he turned to Alice.

“Right,” he said, “I’m gonna go have an early night, I’m tired and my neck is killing me, make sure you don’t go to bed too late alright.”

“Alright Dad,” Alice said as he began to shuffle out the room.

He went upstairs, undressed and collapsed into bed, falling instantly asleep. Meanwhile Alice went into the living room, sat on the couch and turned on the TV, flicking through some of the channels but not really watching any of it, instead her mind replayed back the conversation she’d had with her Mom earlier.
It was going to be tough getting through this but they needed her, both Mom and Dad. She had learnt her lesson; she didn’t want to end up in the same position as her Mom in ten years’ time. And if Mom was innocent then she was sure her Dad would be able to prove it.


Meanwhile back at Fox River, Waverly was sat alone on her bed leaning against the cell wall holding a book; she looked out the bars with a mirror to check there were no guards on the move. Feeling fairly confident no one was coming she lay the mirror down on her bunk and opened the book. Inside the book was the bolt hidden in a hole she had hollowed out.

Checking over her shoulder one more time she crouched down by the toilet and quickly began to loosen one of the screws that connected the toilet and sink.
She had almost completely loosened the screw when he heard the voice of Stephanie Jones yell out from the Ground floor:

“Open on 40!”

Waverly quickly screwed the bolt slightly back in just enough that it wasn’t noticeably sticking out, and then she jolted up and hid the bolt in her pocket as the cell gate opened and a set of footsteps came down the walkway ending with Steph stepping into her cell.

“Gibson,” Steph chirped, with a too happy smile as false as her eyelashes, “I found you a new cellie. As luck would have it, I found her in the psych ward and you're the only one with an empty cell, so...”

She knew it, Jones had come to make her life more unbearable with a new and what sounded like unstable cell mate.

“Psych ward?” Waverly said concerned.

“You got a problem with that?” Jones sneered nastily.

She flicked out her baton, extending it to full length and stared deeply into Waverly’s eyes with an aggressive look.

“'Cause if you do, please feel free to pop in my suggestion box here,” Jones said nastily.

Then without looking away Steph tapped the toilet with the baton exchanged an aggressive look then stepped back out of the cell.

“Clootie, get in here!” Jones yelled to someone just out of Waverly’s sight.

A tall, slender, pale woman in her early forties with long dyed blonde hair shuffled inside holding a box of possessions.

“Close up on 40!” Jones yelled down to the control room.

The cell slowly closed, and Waverly went to turn around both secretly annoyed at the situation and uninterested in her new cellmate.

“Oh, and Gibson just a heads up” Jones said smarmily, causing Waverly to look back at her.

“Don't make eye contact with her,” Jones said and smirked.

And with that Jones walked off. ‘Clootie’ looked around the small cell inquisitively, her deep dark brown eyes wide and curious like a child’s before finally settling on Waverly, Clootie had a good look at her from head to toe, sizing her up in a way that reminded Waverly of a cross between a snake and a frightened cat before finally making eye contact.

Waverly looked away sharply, weirded out by her new cellmate’s bizarre behaviour.
There was an awkward silence, then ‘Clootie’ pied up:

“’S ok if I take the top bunk right?”

Waverly turned her head and nodded before turning back around silently cursing to herself.

“Shit, just what I needed.”

Behind her she could hear ‘Clootie’ dump her belongings on her bunk and haul herself up.

Waverly groaned internally, how the hell was she going to do now? The plan was falling apart before her very eyes. She needed to talk to Wynonna.


In the courtyard for evening exercise Waverly made her way over towards the fence that cut off solitary confinement from ‘Gen Pop.’

In the solitary confinement courtyard Wynonna had just finished consuming her jelly-filled powdered bacon donut. In her other hand she was holding a basketball and after licking the remainder of the icing sugar off her fingers she began to shoot some hoops. She decided she might as well spend her extra free time doing something other than sulking and there was a basketball hoop in the yard. She stopped and dribbled the ball over to the fence when she saw Waverly stroll over, and began bouncing it up and down on the spot.

“Wynonna, we’ve run into a bit of a problem, Rosita has transferred to another cell and I got a new cellmate.” Waverly started.

“I told you Boobs McSeltzer was pissed off, so go on who’s your new cellie,” Wynonna alliterated.

Waverly nodded her head towards ‘Clootie’ who was muttering to herself alone not too far away and said, “That’s her.”

“The Stone Witch? Shit that's a problem,” Wynonna commented.

“You know who she is?” Waverly said surprised.

“She’s famous, how do you not know who she is?” Wynonna retorted.

“Care to enlighten me,” Waverly said.

“Constance Clootie AKA ‘The Stone Witch’ was one of the many wives of the famous cult leader Bulshar Clootie, in fact she was his favourite wife,” Wynonna started, “He used to be a corrupt local sheriff once upon a time but gave it up to become a cultist. Anyway he claimed to be a powerful demon and she claimed to be a powerful witch and they gained a massive cult following of believers whom they had complete control over. It was great for the Clootie cult at first, they were rich and powerful but of course they were dangerous. Bulshar in particular was a malevolent force and feared by anyone not in the inner circle of the cult. Then he started killing people that’s when the FBI got involved, they raided the Clootie’s complex and killed a high number of the followers who tried to defend the FBI from getting to their leader including Clootie’s two other wives who happened to be sisters as well. Eventually they got to Bulshar who tried to defend himself with a gun, so they shot him too. Thus was the end of the Clootie cult. The remainder of the followers were arrested, however Constance managed to slip away in the chaos with her and Bulshar’s two, severely autistic sons. She was on the run for a good while, then one day the place where they were hiding out had an electrical fire, she escaped unharmed but her two sons’ died in the fire and that’s when she was finally arrested.”

“Holy shit! Her life sounds like a wild ride,” Waverly exclaimed shocked.

“It gets better,” Wynonna continued, “Clootie was always a bit unstable, I mean she genuinely believed she was a witch after all, but the death of her sons pushed her over the edge, she went full blown crazy after that, killed another inmate her first day inside and kept insisting she was ‘The Stone Witch,’ she got transferred to the psych ward soon after, she’s been there ever since.”

“…And now she’s my new cellmate,” Waverly said.

…And now she’s your new cellmate,” Wynonna repeated slowly then her voice turned serious, “What are you going to do about her?” she asked.

“I dunno… I guess we're just gonna have to bring her on board,” Waverly said defeated.

“You can't bring a woman like that on board,” Wynonna said serious, “She thinks chanting in bad Hungarian is casting a spell for Christ’s sake.”

“Then I'll work at night, when she's sleeping,” Waverly conceded.

At that moment, Hamilton walked by and spotted them talking by the fence.

“Ten feet, Gibson!” he yelled.

Wynonna and Waverly shared a look then separated, Wynonna walking more towards the basketball hoop, bouncing the basketball as she walked, and Waverly walking a few feet further from the fence but not so far away that they couldn’t hear each other still. Hamilton turned away satisfied and carried on his patrol.

“How far behind are we?” Wynonna said concerned.

“Three days,” Waverly replied.

“I thought you said the margin for error was zero days,” Wynonna said remembering a previous conversation they’d had during P.I.

“I did,” Waverly confirmed.

“What!” Wynonna exclaimed, “Are you kidding me Waverly!”

“Look getting my hand chopped off was not part of the plan okay,” Waverly hissed softly.

Waverly in the corner of her eye saw Hamilton starting to make the rounds around their side of the Courtyard again.

“I gotta go, just don’t worry okay, I have this all under control,” Waverly assured her.

She then bounced off quickly to avoid Hamilton’s wrath should he catch her chatting to Wynonna again.

Wynonna sighed loudly.

“Jesus Waverly,” she muttered to herself.

She looked one last time at the Courtyard as she went to turn back to shooting hoops to be met by the curious, unblinking stare of Constance Clootie herself, she stared back at her for a few seconds then tuned around freaked out by the encounter.


In a wooded area just outside the state of Illinois a car pulled up. It came to a swift halt then Ewan Allanbach and Bryce Cooper stepped out, they stood for a moment admiring the view.

“it’s nice out here. I got a buddy, he's got a place way back up in these woods, we come up here hunting this time of year. Man... ” Allanbach yearned trailing off.

Allanbach turned and made his way over to the boot and popped it open to be met by a kick in the stomach from Debbie who was tied up and gagged inside.

“Oof,” Ewan huffed taken aback, “Back in. Back in.”

Allanbach struggled with the squirming Debbie, Bryce rushed forward to help him together they managed to wrangle her back into the boot and slammed it shut.

“Ok, ok, on the count of three we grab her,” Allanbach stated, “One…two…three.”

Allanbach threw open the boot and landed down on top of her wrestling her as she squirmed desperately, her screaming almost completely silenced by the gag over her mouth.

“Come here, stop squirming!” he yelled at her.

After a few seconds Allanbach finally managed to get her under control, and then he manoeuvred her out of the boot and shoved her into Bryce’s arms.

“Take her out there,” Allanbach barked at Bryce pointing to an area thick with trees.

Bryce frowned, both unsure and uncomfortable about killing an innocent person.

“She's nothing. Nobody would believe her if she talked anyway,” Bryce said nervously.

“Hundred yards or so should do it,” Allanbach continued ignoring Bryce’s concerns.

“Do it,” he said with finality.

Bryce looked concerned but with a big sigh he led the struggling Debbie out towards the thick wooded area, meanwhile Allanbach closed the boot and leant against it, watching them. Bryce looked back one last time in the hope Ewan would change his mind.

“Go!” Allanbach shouted crushing Bryce’s hopes.

The walked a good few feet. Now in a particularly thick wooded area of the forest Bryce pushed Debbie onto her knees and pulled out his gun from his inner jacket pocket.

“I'm sorry. You've got to believe that,” Bryce apologised sadly.

Debbie’s frightened eyes met his apologetic ones as he raised his arm up, and aimed straight at Debbie’s head. Bryce hesitated, taking a deep breath as he prepared himself. All of a sudden a car horn went off. Bryce looked around frightened they had been discovered, and Debbie took this small window of opportunity to get up and leg it as fast as she could with her hands still tied behind her back.

“Shit!” he shouted as he turned back round to see Debbie had run a quite a fair way from him.

He gave chase.

Bryce shot at Debbie but missed. Allanbach during this time overheard the commotion and ran towards the noise. Debbie kept on running brushing past shrubbery and branches, scratching her face and snagging her clothes. Bryce did the same, he raised his arm and shot again, this time he hit Debbie in the leg, causing her to fall over and squeal in pain, but she didn’t let that stop her. She continued crawling on her hands on knees in the dirt, pain shooting through her leg, even as she could hear the footsteps getting louder and Bryce came to a stop directly behind her. The tape had partially fallen off her mouth and was hanging off the corner loosely. Debbie stopped knowing it was futile to try to escape now she was so badly injured, and turned to face Bryce.

“Please. Please,” She whispered, “Please, I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

Bryce just looked at her, gun raised to her head. His face the picture of guilt, his eyes boring into hers trying desperately to convey his sorrow. In that moment a shot rang out from behind Bryce and Debbie’s limp body fell to the floor, a gunshot wound now adorning her pale temple, red blood oozing out slightly. Bryce turned to see Allanbach standing not far behind him, his gun raised and still smoking. Allanbach lowered his gun, and his eyes went from the dead body of Debbie Donner to Bryce’s own.

“Pick up the casings,” He said softly.

Allanbach then turned and left, presumably back to the car. Bryce looked down once again at Debbie’s corpse and felt sick. Another innocent person had been killed today and for what? Bryce shook his head trying to rid himself of his thoughts and then made his way back towards the car to get the black body bag he was going to need to clean Debbie up with.


Later that night back in her cell Waverly lay in her bunk, patiently waiting for Clootie to fall asleep on the bunk above her. Once she was sure Clootie must be asleep she reached up and carefully pulled out the bolt from its hiding spot between the metal slat and Clootie’s mattress and rose from the bed pulling back the covers and made her way over to the sink, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Waverly crouched down and began unscrewing the screw from the connecting sink and toilet when she heard the sound of metal shifting. Waverly promptly stopped what she was doing and turned her head around to see Constance Clootie staring at her in wonderment from her bunk.

Waverly just stared back processing what was happening. It was late how could Constance still be awake? Realising Clootie was going to be more of a pain than she originally anticipated Waverly asked softly:

“What's your problem?”

“I got a neuroanatomical lesion affecting my reticular activating system,” Clootie answered almost robotically.

“What does that mean?” Waverly inquired confused.

“It means I barely sleep... if at all,” Clootie replied.