New Man - John Abruzzi x OC

Chapter 1

There's a hierarchy in every place. It is in human nature to find a place in it, even if they are not aware of it. If they do realise, however, and take conscious action to monitor it, it is because they have been brought up to see it and establish themselves at the top.

And so there was a hierarchy within the walls of Fox River, between the men that were closed behind bars, and at the top there was a man that oversaw it all. His name was John Abruzzi and he bowed before no one.

No one, no more, not since his wife took a bullet over six years ago and his children were being taken care of by some silly ninny that he had not had the pleasure of meeting yet.

The yard was alive with men, sparking with unloaded testosterone, bottled up in the cells during vicious staring contests projected across the room. Hollers and yawps came from the basketball pitches, deals were being made at the stalls, away from Bellick and his men. The blacks rounded up against the whites and curse words flew along threats and flashes of makeshift shanks. Above this chaos, Abruzzi sat with Fiorello and his own men at the bench tables, playing cards with a poker face over his countenance.

"Look, Boss."

"What." He grunted after a pause, in good spirits enough to comply. He turned around and cast a glance at where Fiorello pointed.

"Freshies."

John Abruzzi snorted. He really couldn't care less, as long as they did not cause him an inconvenience. Or perhaps he wanted them to; there was very little excitement here, recently. Hah! As if they had a range of activities to do. It wasn't like they were getting out of here any time soon either, especially him. He had one hundred and twenty years in here without parole. And, unless God decided that he ought to live over one hundred and sixty years, that meant he was going to rot in here until he took his last breath.

He slammed the card down forcefully, tearing his thoughts away from his children and the futures they could have as a result of the lack of a father.

"Be prepared to give them a warm welcome," he grinned after a while, "after all, they are going to hell."

His men guffawed and the game continued. Nobody's heart was in it, however, bets on or not, so he wrapped it up early and sat on the table, looking around.

"Scum." He scoffed.

Theodore Bagwell was at it again. Looking at him made Abruzzi's skin crawl.

"We could put him out of it, Boss." Fiorello said, flicking his eyes from his boss to T-Bag. "It won't take long."

"Not unless we have to." He muttered, averting his eyes. "That man's freakin' crazy. I don't want to be cut unless I have to."

His words were drowned out by the ringing of the bell from the main building.

"Play time's over, ladies. In!" A CO called.

Abruzzi did not sigh anymore when fresh air was over. It made no difference. He got up and slowly made his way towards the gates with his hands in his pockets, his men ambling along around him. He was about to pass the gates, when Bellick stuck out his hand.

"Not you, Abruzzi. You've got a special visit."

Abruzzi signalled for his men to go on, then turned to Bellick.

"What?"

"Monthly check up."

Abruzzi rolled his eyes and snorted.

"Don't need it. Tell them I'm fine, Boss. There's plenty of people who need it more."

"It's not down to me." Bellick said, grinning. "And don't be so hasty to back out of it. You might get a nice little surprise."