Title: Fuck Me
Pairing: B/K
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: HBO owns Oz.
Summary: Toby gets angry and all hell breaks loose.
Beta: Viggofest - thanks!


Toby’s anger knew no bounds. It raged out of control, dictating every breathing moment of his very, very long day. And then he really got mad. It burned away every rational thought his lawyer brain had ever produced, and nothing mattered. Not one thing. Except that Vernon Schillinger had to die. Die. Die. Die. Any means would justify that end. The words pounded through his broken limbs in rhythm with his heartbeat.

"It’s time to walk today, Toby." Nathan smiled brightly.

Toby stumbled along, using two crutches and nearly falling once. Alvarez made no move to catch him. The humiliations these past two and a half months were nothing compared to the anger. It ate him alive. It made him see colors that God hadn’t created. Collapsing back into bed, he shook, but not from pain. No. It was his hatred. Hate blended perfectly with his rage, creating a new world that sparkled. The pain pills didn’t take it away. Sleep didn’t ease it. Nothing made it absent his body. It was his constant companion, and where he knew he’d been insane once before, this insanity tasted different. Bitter and sweet. It choked him, and as the days passed, he grew to love it.

"For the tenth time, McManus, I don’t remember who did this to me." Toby tried to sound more tired than he was. "I can’t!"

"So, you’re just going to skip merrily back to your pod with Keller?" McManus frowned.

Toby laughed. He laughed. "Skip? Not any time soon." His anger burst through him and forced him to say, "I want out of Em City. Please don’t send me back. It’ll only make this worse!"

"Toby, that’s not a good choice." McManus shook his head.

Toby smiled tightly. "It’s the best choice for me. Put me in Unit B. Do it. It’s that or I’m going to wind up dead."

McManus just stared, and then he walked away. Toby tapped his fingernails on the metal rail of the bed and watched his wrath destroy every good emotion he’d ever had. Love? Gone. Concern? Finished. Compassion? So not going there. His anger wrapped him tight, squeezed, and he smiled. It felt so good.


"Did you hear the news?"

Keller chewed his straw. "Never do."

"They’re putting Beecher in Unit B. Dr. Nathan said he demanded it." O’Reily nodded. "That fucker is dead. Guess he got hurt so bad that he’s committing suicide."

Keller choked on the straw, spit it out, and walked away.


"Hello, sweat pea."

Toby couldn’t answer if he wanted to. His leg hurt, and all his breath was going towards walking.

"Lopresti, you can put him in here with me." Schillinger smiled so ugly and mean.


"Sounds fine." Toby managed to say. He knew his words hadn’t carried more than two feet. Lopresti threw Toby’s stuff down on the bottom bunk and walked away. Toby had to lean against the bars and pant. His body still didn’t want to work right, and anger could only take him so far, but he was here, right where he had to be. Schillinger snatched the cane, and Toby gripped the bars to stay upright. It didn’t matter. He’d crawl around. Well, he would be doing a lot that. His anger giggled.

"The cane is mine. I may let you use it." Schillinger poked him with it. "Or I may not."

Toby nodded and tried to catch his breath. He’d known that would happen.

"What the hell are you doing in my cellblock?" Schillinger twirled it and managed to miss Toby, but only by the thinnest of margins.

Toby shivered. It was easy with the rage boiling behind his eyeballs. "I told them to put me here." He hesitated one beat to emphasize. "Sir."

"Tobias, have you finally learned your place?" Schillinger used the cane to stroke along the side of Toby‛s face.

Toby bit his lower lip. The cane struck his hands, and he cried out as he fell to his knees. "Sir," he whispered. Blind fury forced the word out around his agony.

Schillinger laughed. "Not sure I believe a word of this shit."

Toby leaned his head back against the bars, shut his eyes, and rubbed his leg. Pain bubbled, and he let the anger wash it away. Oh dear God, he was pissed. Fucking mad. Not crazy. Not this time. Slowly, his breath came back. Schillinger went out to the pool table and stayed until the dinner horn rang. Toby didn’t make a move, and Schillinger dropped the cane onto Toby’s lap.

"Let’s go."

Toby got up with the aid of the cane and the bars. He didn’t say anything. He limped after Schillinger to the cafeteria and got him a tray. Schillinger strutted, and Toby didn’t look directly at anyone but him.

"No food for you, prag."

Toby nodded and sat down when Schillinger pointed. He didn’t need food. He lived on something much richer. Studying his number, he decided he liked it on his chest. It was right there to remind him that he was in prison, and he hated every moment of it. Schillinger laughed, bragged, and ignored him.

"Toby, what the fuck are you doing with him?" Keller frowned.

Schillinger got up, crossed his arms, and smirked. "He came home to Daddy. I knew he would if I hurt him bad enough. What the fuck did you think we were doing?"

Keller stared at Toby, not Schillinger. "Toby, don’t do this."

Toby felt a roar build inside him. With extreme effort, he mildly said, "Sir, when you kill him, can I watch?"

Schillinger laughed. "You bet. It might be sooner than he thinks."

Toby went back to looking at his number. Keller made a few noises, but he didn’t stick around, and Schillinger eventually snapped, "Put my tray away, Tobias."

"Yes, sir." Toby did exactly that. He ignored O’Reily’s attempt at conversation. Walking back to Unit B was exhausting, and he thought he’d puke when he got there. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and just waited for more pain. It mixed nicely with his hate and rage and made for a three course meal.

"Clean your shit up!" Schillinger took the cane and put it on his bunk.

Toby cleaned the cell, putting things away and making sure his emery boards were under his pillow. Later, he’d work on his nails. Dr. Nathan had told him to cut them, but he wasn’t going to do that. No. His nails were important to his future.

Schillinger smiled and pulled him close. Toby didn’t have to pretend to tremble. He hurt, and he was furious.


"Yes, sir." Toby nodded. He knew what Schillinger wanted to hear.

"Good." Schillinger squeezed Toby’s ass. "Keller thought you loved him. He thought he could own you. Stupid fucker."

Toby remembered dimly feeling revulsion at the touch from this man, but none of that was left inside him. Only fury licked away inside his guts. "I loved him, sir."

Schillinger drove his fist into Toby’s stomach, and Toby fell to the floor. Exhausted muscles screamed in chorus with his leg. Toby whimpered. He knew how. He sobbed. Anger demanded it of him, and he gave willingly.

"You’re mine, sweet pea. Keller played you. I think you know that now." Schillinger put his boot on Toby’s leg and pressed. "Don’t you?"

Toby nodded frantically. "I’m yours, sir! Yours!" He clutched his guts and screamed aloud his rage and pain.

"Vern, keep it down," Lopresti drawled. "Your toy is noisy."

"We’re establishing our relationship." Schillinger took his boot away after one last push. "It’s going to be a beautiful thing."

Toby tried to find some air. He watched his leg shake, but he knew his anger was right. This was the only way to achieve what was necessary, and when he was chiseled by the tempest, he would be whole again.

Schillinger squatted down next to him. "You playing me, Tobias?"

"I - I - I know the truth," Toby choked out. Tears ran down his face, and they burned hot.

"It took you long enough. Not so smart, are you, Harvard boy?" Schillinger slapped him across the face and got to his feet. "You are what I made you, and you’ll always dream of me first."

Toby recognized the base truth in that statement, and his anger fed on it. He didn’t talk. There was nothing to say. He crawled to his bunk when Schillinger told him to, and he listened to his teeth chatter. It wasn’t cold.


"How do you feel about Tobias moving to Unit B?" Sister Pete fiddled with her glasses that hung on the end of a chain.

"Schillinger will kill him." Keller managed a smile. She‛d insisted on this session, but he knew this was about her precious ‛Tobias,‛ not him. "Beecher‛s gonna die one inch at a time. Nothing I can do about it."

Sister Pete frowned. "But how do you feel?"

Keller slammed the door behind him.


Toby put Schillinger’s tray down in front of him. "Here you are, sir."

"Good boy." Schillinger stared at him. Stared hard. Toby didn’t flinch. He leaned against his cane and waited. The Nazi suddenly pointed. "Sit down by me."

Toby sat right next to him and leaned close. "Thank you, sir."

Schillinger opened his milk. "When did you eat last?"

"Day before yesterday. I had lunch in the hospital before they let me out." Toby wasn’t hungry. If anything, his outrage ate at him.

"I’ve been thinking." Schillinger traced his finger around Toby’s mouth. "No drugs. No food. Nothing, unless you take it from my hand. Understand?"

Toby held perfectly still for one moment, and then he pushed out a soft whine. "Yes, sir."

Schillinger handed him a pancake. "If I see it or hear about it, you’ll need two canes."

Toby bit into the pancake instead of answering, but he nodded and cowered as if he were scared. Schillinger seemed satisfied by it. Toby looked across the lunchroom and into the blue eyes of Keller.

Keller frowned, got to his feet, and strutted to them. "Feeding your dog, huh?"

Schillinger looked up and grinned. "Gotta train my bitch right. Keep moving, Keller."

Toby had a feeling they were both waiting for him to say something. "Sir, can I have your orange?"

"Prag," Keller muttered and walked away.

"Sure, Tobias." Schillinger’s eyes darted from Toby to Keller and back again. "Do you think he loves you?"

Toby peeled the orange. "I’m nice enough, I guess."

Schillinger put his arm around him and squeezed. "Keller only loves himself."

Toby nodded and chewed. He didn’t know the truth, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to guess at it today. He’d think about it later, after the storm in his brain passed. His rage prodded him, and he said softly, "The man sure can fuck though."

The back of Schillinger’s hand sent Toby to the floor. "That wasn’t in the deal!"

Toby cringed and ate some more orange that he’d managed to hang onto. The side of his face burned, and it felt good. "Sorry, sir."

Schillinger yanked him up. The CO’s were suddenly there, and Toby sat down fast.

"No trouble, Schillinger," Murphy snapped. "Or I’ll send you to the hole."

"Just having a discussion about my prag’s pussy." Schillinger nodded. "Tobias, get rid of my tray."

"Yes, sir." Toby took it, and he didn’t look directly at anyone.

O’Reily stepped in front of him. "Tits?"

Toby shook his head and put the tray where it belonged. "Tell Keller I still love him."

O’Reily’s jaw dropped, but Toby didn’t stop, he caught up with Schillinger and limped right behind him. The other Nazis laughed at him. Schillinger waited until they were in Unit B. He shoved Toby hard against the pool table. Toby had expected it.

"I’ll show you who can fuck, Tobias." Schillinger slapped the back of Toby’s head. Toby intentionally banged his leg hard against the table. Pain swept over him, filled him, and he sank gratefully into it.


"Does Toby still work for you?" Keller hated these sessions, but since he was here, he might as well find something to talk about and not him.

Sister Pete glanced over at the little desk. "He works in the mailroom now." She frowned.

Keller nodded. He should’ve guessed that. "How does it make you feel to know that he’s being abused by that Nazi fuck?"

"Chris, we’re here to talk about you."

"And I want to know - how do you feel?" Keller got to his feet and leaned against her desk. "Happy? Are you happy?"

Sister Pete shook her head. "I’m appalled, but it’s Tobias’s choice. How do you feel about it?"

Keller slammed the door on his way out.


"Good thing I didn’t bust your jaw." Schillinger laughed.

Toby couldn’t answer with a cock in his mouth, not that his anger would let him. He kept his eyes shut and watched the flames dance inside his brain. One day soon it would consume him, and he would rejoice.

"Okay, stop slurping. I still want to hit the gym before dinner." Schillinger zipped up. "Try to walk a little faster."

Toby nodded, and he did try. The pain felt good. The gym was busy, and Schillinger strolled over to the fence. Toby knew what was coming. They’d done this every day for a week. He was properly trained now. Schillinger snapped his fingers, took the cane, and Toby laced his hands into the fence above his head. The cane whistled through the air, and he flinched like he should when it struck him across the chest.

"Do not move, prag." Schillinger put the cane next to him and walked away to work on the speed bag.

"Yes, sir." Toby gripped the fence tightly. He knew why he did this, and he could only marvel at how good it felt. The hacks never even looked at him. They didn‛t give a shit as long as there was no fighting, and Toby never fought back.

"Still Vern’s whipping boy, huh?" Keller leaned against the fence next to him. "Not much longer and he’ll kill you."

Toby looked towards the roof. There was a tiny window up there. "A dream is a wish your heart makes."

"Fucking weirdo." Keller smiled. "If you’d have come back to me, I’d have made it good for you."

"I’ll always love you, Chris, but I learned my lesson. I belong to him." Toby let his head droop as if he were beaten down. He let out a soft whimper. "And you helped teach me that. If you have any complaints, take it up with Schillinger."

Keller cursed and bolted away. Toby suffered, but his anger kept him hanging.

"What did Keller say to you?" Schillinger spat, striding up hard and fast.

"He said that I should have gone back to him, not you." Toby didn’t flinch as the cane struck him.

Schillinger glared. "And you said?"

"I belong to you. He needs to get over it, sir." Toby saw it coming, but he didn’t move, and Schillinger didn’t hit him this time. Schillinger snapped his fingers. Toby turned loose and dropped to the floor. The cane clattered down next to him. "Thank you, sir."

"Stay on your knees where you belong, bitch." Schillinger walked away again, and Toby watched his temper put air back in his body and smooth away the ache.

Keller’s voice could suddenly be heard over the noise. "He loves me!"

"And he belongs to me!" Schillinger’s answer was loud.

The angry God that walked inside Toby’s heart laughed and danced. Toby crossed his arms over his bruised chest and shut his eyes to watch the fire.

"You’re a pitiful piece of shit." Metzger’s voice was loud. "Vern! Dr. Nathan needs your prag."

Schillinger cursed, but there was nothing he could do. Toby managed to get to his feet, and he limped after the CO. Once they were outside the door, Metzger grabbed him by the arm and dragged him. Toby sobbed. He knew it was the right thing to do. They went through a locked door.

Metzger laughed and shoved him against the wall. "Put your talented mouth to work."

"Dr. Nathan?" Toby pretended to be scared.

"She can wait a minute." Metzger grabbed, and the rage that ruled Toby’s life took over his body and killed and killed. Blood gurgled, and he grinned. His furies shouted their approval, and his passion for revenge checked for excessive blood stains. Not too much. He searched the stupid Nazi and found his illegal shank. Schillinger had said that Metzger carried one. Quickly, Toby slashed his arm, but not too deep. He stuffed the shank in Metzger’s ripped throat, after he wiped the prints off.

The walk to the hospital was a long one. He made sure his hands got very bloody, and he nearly stumbled over Murphy at the door. "I need some help."

Murphy took him inside. "Who slashed you?"

"Keller. He thought it was funny to slice on Schillinger’s prag." Toby eased up on a gurney. "I laughed."

"Right." Murphy strode away. Nathan hurried over to him, and Toby leaned back. Hatred sang and danced alongside his anger, and he enjoyed the party while she stitched him. She exclaimed over the countless bruises on his chest and legs and gave him a pain pill. The rage eased off to a simmer, and he slept.


"Search him!"

Keller put up his hands and let them do what they wanted. He was clean.

"He ditched it." Murphy sighed. "What should I do with him, Tim?"

"Beecher might be lying." McManus narrowed his eyes. "What do you say, Keller?"

"I say fuck you." Keller smiled his best. He had no idea what they were talking about, but he did know one thing. "Toby’s a lying sack of prag shit."


"I bought you something, Tobias." Schillinger laughed as he came inside the cell.

Toby put the emery board away and got to his feet. "Sir?"

Schillinger handed him a red ribbon. "Your hair is getting long. I thought you could use this."

"I like red." Toby took it and sat down to brush his hair. He pulled it back, using the rubber band that he always wore around his wrist, and then he put the ribbon in it. "A bow or hang down?"

"A bow." Schillinger grinned.

Toby did it easily. His current insanity had driven him to do far more than put a ribbon in his hair. He tightened it and said, "Do I look pretty?"

"You’ve lost your mind. Haven’t you?" Schillinger ran his hand along Toby’s jaw and caressed Toby’s long hair.

Toby made sure it was straight. He wasn‛t going to answer that question straight on, and really, what did it matter as long as his anger was satisfied. "I like purple too."

Schillinger smiled. "You do look pretty."


Keller took the clothes and put them on. "It’s about time. I’m in here for nothing!"

"Somebody put ten stitches in Toby’s arm," Murphy said. "My bet it was you."

"Fuck you." Keller went out the door. He hadn‛t done it. For once, he was innocent. "I need a damn shower."

"It can wait. McManus has a few things to discuss with you."

"God fucking damn." Keller wanted to hit someone. Nothing was going right lately.


Toby buffed his nails to a shine. They looked good - long and sharp. "Sir, could you please buy me some nail polish?"

Schillinger turned and slowly smiled. "Red would look nice. It’d match your lipstick."

Toby smiled. "My ponytail ribbon too." He could hear the fierce drums beating in his head, whispering that retribution was near. "I’d be grateful."

"I bet you would." Schillinger rubbed his crotch. "Did you hear the gossip about Keller?"

Toby shrugged. He knew everything, but ignorance was bliss. "Of course, purple would be nice."

"I’ll see what I can do." Schillinger grunted. "Has McManus asked you lately who broke your arms and legs?"

"Yesterday." Toby put his emery boards away for now. "But, blue would match my shirt."

"Focus, you idiot," Schillinger growled. "What did you tell him?"

"The truth." Toby tugged his hair and straightened his ponytail. It certainly was long. "I don’t remember who did it - too traumatic."

"Good girl." Schillinger grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up. "We may have to kill Keller soon. He’s about ready to squeal to McManus. He wants you back, and he thinks if he rats me out, he wins."

Toby licked his lips and leaned on Schillinger’s chest. "He’d look good in red too - blood red."

Schillinger laughed. "He would." He paced to the end of the cell and put his hands behind his back. "The only thing that worries me is who killed Metzger. They think Keller did it, but they have no proof."

Toby let his anger answer. "I didn’t like Metzger. He made me suck his dick when you weren’t looking."

"That bastard!" Schillinger turned. "Did he really?"

Toby shrugged. "He said I had to, so I did." He examined his cuticles. They were perfect. "His dick was okay, but he should’ve showered more."

"I should kick your ass." Schillinger lashed out, and the open slap drove Toby back against the wall. Toby felt the tears burst from his eyes. He didn’t protect himself from the beating. He’d wanted it, and the pain filled the ache, and his anger was triumphant. It was so right. When he was able, he crawled to Schillinger’s boot and kissed it.

"Thank you, sir."

Schillinger looked down at him. "Just two colors."

"Red and purple, please." Toby stayed on his belly until Schillinger was gone, and then he pulled himself up and fixed his hair and makeup. When he was done, he went back to his nails. Getting the blood out from under them had taken forever, but they looked good now. Some nail polish and no one would notice if his hands got a bit bloody again.

"Stow your shit, Keller. Any trouble and I’ll beat your ass," Lopresti said.

Keller grunted. "Fuck me."

Toby didn’t leave his cell. He wasn’t allowed to unless Schillinger said it was okay, and there were always snitches around. The door was open though, and he stood in it. He waved his perfect fingernails. "Hi, Chris."

"Shut up, prag." Keller didn’t even look at him.

"You wanted me like this." Toby sniffed. Had he ever known Keller, or had it all been a huge joke? He smiled and twirled his hair. "Why are you mad?"

Keller slowly began to roll his sleeves up. "I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t lied."

"You did cut me." Toby cocked his head to the side and looked earnest. "You were mad because I wouldn’t help you kill Metzger."

"Shut the fuck up!" Keller charged out of his cell and got right in Toby’s face. "I’ll snap your prag neck!"

Toby frowned and touched him on the chest. "But I love you."

Keller slapped out, and Toby made sure it hit him. He fell down, and oh God, that felt so good. His rage drank it up and smiled. Keller pointed. "No more lies!"

"I never lied. Never. You’re soaked in them." Toby limped to his bunk and lay down. Eyes were on them, and word would get to Schillinger of what they’d said and done. One last touch was needed. "Come here, Chris. We’ll fuck before Schillinger gets back."

Keller slammed Toby’s cell door and walked away. Toby strummed his hands over his bruises and fed the demon inside him. More and more. Yes.


Keller put his pillow over his head to block out the sounds. It only muffled them. Hacks down here didn’t give a shit who fucked who as long as no one died. Toby cried out, and Keller jerked his pillow down and looked. Schillinger smiled and waved over Toby’s back. Toby held onto the bars of the door. Tears streaked his face.

"Does it hurt? Does it?"

"Yes! Yes! Thank you, sir."

"You’re my prag! Not Keller’s!"

Toby cried out again, and Keller stuck his fingers in his ears. He’d done this. He’d done this. He’d . . . oh, fuck it.


"We’ll wait a little longer." Schillinger paced back and forth. "Morris is keeping him busy."

"Sir, are you sure you should go alone? He’s no pussy." Toby was careful. He didn’t want to waste a drop of it. Not today. Today was special. Carefully, he blew on them. Beautiful.

"I can handle him. He lost his shank in the shakedown last week." Schillinger stopped close to him. "You look nice, Tobias."

"Thank you, sir." Toby recapped the fingernail polish. It was true that Keller had lost his shank, but he’d bought a new one yesterday. Ah yes, knowledge was power. He put his hand on Schillinger’s arm. "Can I help? Please?"

"Your job is to suck me off after I kill him. I’m gonna be hard as rock." Schillinger grinned. "I think you can handle that."

Toby nodded. He could handle this. It was what the madness demanded of him. "He still loves me."

Schillinger narrowed his eyes and spat on the floor. "I’ve seen him staring, but it ends right now. Bring the cane. I may let you hit him."

"Yes, sir." Toby picked it up and limped after him. It was nearing lunch, and the cellblock was almost empty. Lopresti glanced at them, but walked away. It was a done deal.

"Morris, beat it. I got business with Keller."

Toby watched Morris scurry away, and Keller smiled lazily as he got to his feet. "Loaning me your pretty prag?"

Schillinger shook his head and pulled his shank. Toby thrilled at the rush of power that came as he raised his cane and struck from behind. His anger howled in satisfaction, and he let it rush out of him as he landed on Schillinger’s back, driving him to the floor. Gravity was such a beautiful thing, and it only took a twist to drive the shank deep into him. Deeper.

"Goodbye, you Nazi fuckwad,"Toby whispered and banged him against the floor.

Schillinger said nothing. Blood gushed from his mouth, but his eyes were wide and surprised. Toby giggled, got to his feet and made sure his nails weren’t broken. He would head to lunch. Some food might be nice. Every cell in his body sighed with bliss. His raging heart skipped a beat before settling into its normal rhythm and he would have sworn angels sang from on high.

"Wait! Wait, you little motherfucker!" Keller grabbed him by the arm and pulled him around. "They’re gonna blame me for that!"

"Think you’ll fry?" Toby laughed and twirled his cane. Never, ever, had he felt so good. "I bet its quite a rush for one split instant before your hair catches fire."

Keller stared at him. "You . . . You . . . Oh, my fucking God."

"Chris, baby, the way I see it, you have one chance." Toby felt a wave of goose pimples break out all over his body. Happiness drove away the bitter taste that he’d had in his mouth since he’d met Schillinger.

"What?" Keller looked back at his cell. "What?"

"Fall on your shank, pray you live, and claim self-defense. Hell, I might even cry and say I tried to stop him." Toby laughed again. This moment was better than any drug he’d ever tried. If only he could bottle it.  "Or you can fry."

Keller grabbed, and Toby slashed him across the face. Yes, red was a perfect color for today.


Keller reeled away and put his shirt up to stop the blood. Toby had cut him with those damn red nails. They were sharper than hell.

"Fuck. Fuck. I am fucked." Keller went back to the cell, stepped around the widening pool of blood, and pulled his shank out from under his cot. He stared at it and made up his mind. He’d live, and then he was going to have a long talk with Toby. With a jerk, he planted it inside his body and crumpled to the floor. The pain made everything start to turn black, but he could hear Toby laughing.


"So, you remember what happened this time?"

"Well, of course." Toby crossed his legs and tapped his nails on his knee. "Schillinger wanted me to suck him off when it was over, but Keller was ready for him. The blood was really gross though, so I went to lunch."

McManus stared at him. "You walked away?"

"I didn’t want to break a nail or something. I mean, they were gonna work it out, right?" Toby smiled a little. He had never been so drunk. It coursed through him and sang a song of vengeance. He wanted to dance and sing along, but he had to act serious. "Can I get a new cell? There’s still blood, like, everywhere."

"Sean, move him back to Em City. He’s certifiable, but maybe Sister Pete can help him if he’s there."

Toby shrugged. "Let me get my polish. That stuff’s expensive. Vern liked red, but I’m fond of purple."

"Now, please."

Toby collected his things quickly and moved back to Em City. Murphy put him in a pod on the second floor, and he took the top bunk. "Who’ll be my podmate?"

"No one, for now." Murphy walked away. Toby went to the mirror and slowly pulled the ribbon out. Casually, he dropped it in the trash. His hair swung over his shoulder, and he meticulously washed his face, removing his makeup for good. That was better. His temper grinned at him, and he stared down at his nails. Blood red, and it made him want to giggle. He could cut them now, but they protected him. The shirt with his number on it could go into the locker, and he found his green T-shirt to wear. Nice. Feeling so good, he wandered out to the balcony to see who was down on the quad.

"Hey, prag." Robson grinned and came straight for him. "You’re mine now."

Toby smiled his best and clicked his nails on the rail. "Robson, you’re nothing. I could kill you without trying."

Robson’s fist came for Toby’s face and Toby ducked, slicing. Blood spurted and Toby sighed. He was never going to get to wear purple if he had to keep killing people.


Keller leaned back against the pillow after he swallowed his pill.

"Well, you’re going to live." McManus crossed his arms. "Now what?"

"Can I go home if I promise to play nice?" Keller grinned.

McManus shook his head. "No charges. It was ruled self-defense."

Keller would celebrate later, but he was glad. "How’s Toby doing? He was practically crying."

"He’s in the hole, but he’s fine." McManus shrugged. "When you get out of here, you’re bunking with him in Em City."

"Why?" Keller blurted before thinking.

"Because Toby lied to me about who broke his arms and legs, and I’m working on the truth." McManus walked off. Keller shot him the finger. It covered a quiver of fear that inched its way up his spine. Toby might do anything.

"Ah, fuck."


Toby cleaned under his nails carefully and turned off the water. He dried himself, glad to be clean, and headed to his pod. The hole sucked, but it had given him a chance to celebrate - dancing and singing and shouting out. No one had given a damn. Wow, it still felt great, and Robson wouldn’t be bothering anyone for a while.

Keller dropped his magazine and smiled. "Finally out, huh?"

"Seems that way." Toby pulled on some sweats and examined his hands. He’d broken a nail, and he found his kit to trim it. Concentrating, he sat down in the chair.

"You’re a smart fucker."

Toby didn’t look up. He was going to take off the chipped remains of the red. It was time for some purple, definitely. "I didn’t do anything smart."

"But you got the job done. I’m the only one still alive, and Dr. Nathan had to use the paddles to make sure of that." Keller sounded happy, which had to be a lie. "So what are your plans for me?"

"I’m going to rake my nails down your back." Toby smiled. Achieving revenge had driven his anger to a respectable distance, but it still loved him. "Other than that, nothing. McManus suspects, so you’re safe, from me that is."

"Did I suffer enough to make you happy?"

"Yes. I think you did." Toby nodded. His anger thought so too. "What do you think?"

"I may kill you for fun," Keller snarled. Now that was real. "You let him fuck you!"

"Yeah. So?" Toby looked at him now. "You don’t love me. You could never love a shit prag like me. I’m nothing to you. Nothing."

Keller bit his lip and shook his head. "I’m sorry I had to hurt you."

"Liar. You laughed and loved it. I know why now. It feels . . . wonderful to hurt people." Toby smiled before going back to his nails. "Thank you for the lovely lesson."


Keller watched Toby work on his nails. The fucker was cold, calculated, and brutal now. There was nothing in him but what Schillinger had put there. Keller sighed and picked up his magazine. He didn’t see the pictures. All he saw were blood-red nails. "Fuck me."

Toby laughed softly.


Toby stretched and eased off the top bunk to brush his teeth. Absentmindedly, he pulled his hair back and used the rubber band. He didn’t like it in his face when he slept. The lights snapped off, a horn rang, and he took his time with his teeth. When he was finished, he turned and smiled.

"Do I look pretty?"

Keller flinched, just a little. "Don’t you think your hair is a little long?"

Toby didn’t think so. He went to the door, and Murphy walked by. Toby waved and smiled. Murphy rolled his eyes and never stopped walking. They thought he was crazy. He laughed softly. Maybe he was, but Schillinger and Metzger were very dead, and Keller was about ready to spread his legs. The remnants of his anger pulsed in his brain and demanded it as a final payment on a huge debt. He cocked his head and listened.

"Chris, I need you."

Keller slid his hands down Toby’s arms. "I can make it nice for you. Not like that Nazi fucker."

Toby smiled. He turned, reached, and felt an overwhelming sense of power as Keller flinched away. "What’s the matter, baby?"

"The claws, man. They freak me out." Keller edged away. "Cut them, okay?"

"I don’t think so. I like the purple." Toby went to the bottom bunk and sat down to wait. Keller wouldn’t give up so easily. Horny fucker. "I love you, Chris."

"Lying so you can slice my throat?" Keller stayed away.

"Okay," Toby said and giggled, "I love the you that you pretended to be. I have no idea who the fuck you really are."

"And you ain’t nothing but Schillinger’s prag now. Where’s that crazy fucker that rhymed?"

Toby laughed. He had to. "Did you think they could put Humpty Dumpty back together again? I’m what you made me. You. I expected it from him, but you broke me."

Keller leaned against the wall. "But now you’re willing to let me fuck you?"

"Uh, well, no." Toby pushed off his sweats and lay back flat on Keller’s bunk. He wiggled a little to get comfortable. "Come teach me who you really are."

Keller adjusted his dick in his pants. "You don’t love me."

Toby shrugged. He stretched out his hand. "If nothing else, we can have a good time while the lights are off."

"You used me to get him going. Didn’t ya?" Keller smiled.

"Me? I’m nothing but a pussy bitch." Toby wrapped his hand around his cock and balls. He stroked and laughed. From now on when he had sex it was going to feel good. "Come lick me. I need you."

Keller didn’t rush, but the words broke him, and he undressed. Suddenly, he was on top. "I’m fucking crazy."

"Feels good, doesn’t it?" Toby moved against him. Keller was gorgeous, not like that ugly fuck Nazi. Gently, Toby traced his nails down him, and he twitched. "Don’t be scared, Chris."

Keller leaned closer, and they kissed long and hard. Toby groaned. He almost felt like he’d earned that sweet kiss. Keller laughed softly. "Can I fuck you?"

"No." Toby dragged his nails across Keller’s nipples. "I’m going first."

Keller said nothing, but kissed him. They moved together, pushing and pulling, but Toby reasserted his rights to Keller’s ass with one sweep of his hand. Keller arched his back. "You little fucker!"

Toby smiled and used his tongue. He licked and sucked, working his way around to Keller’s ass. Damn. It was still the best ass in this fucking place. Keller looked over his shoulder and frowned. Toby pulled those tight ass cheeks apart and thrust his tongue as far as he could get it.

"I didn’t say you could do that!"

Toby didn’t listen. He licked, spat, sucked and nibbled gently, but he never put his finger inside him. When things seemed wet enough, he spat on his hand and rubbed the head of his dick. He hesitated long enough to appease the ferocity inside his heart, and then he shoved.

"Damn!" Keller spread his legs that much more, and Toby slid deeper. It was tight, almost dry, and he had to work at it. The perfect pleasure of it fought a pitched battle with the anger. Shoving, pushing, fighting to get inside; Toby latched his nails into Keller’s shoulders. He pulled and thrust wildly. His orgasm boiled out of him and swept away the wonderful fury that had gripped him for so long.

Keller bucked, and Toby collapsed down on him. Toby’s cock jerked again and again and his chest would have red stripes on it when he got up. "Oh, fuck."

"You bastard," Keller whispered. His eyes fluttered shut. "You shitty bastard."

Toby laughed - a true laugh. He had been baptized in blood and now he could be the man his anger had made of him. "Thanks, Chris. I needed that."

"Well, I guess you warned me." Keller sighed. "Weirdo."

They lay together, neither moving all that much. Toby finally got up, wet a towel, and cleaned Keller off. Blood and semen mixed together. "I think I’m sane again."

"Can’t wait for the next psychotic break." Keller tried to look at his back. "You ain’t gonna cut those are you?"

Toby looked at his nails. They’d saved his life and his sanity, and the purple was nice. "Maybe later. I might have to scratch Robson’s eyes out."

Keller laughed. "You forgive me?"

Toby shrugged. "Should I?"

"No, but if you loved me, you would." Keller kissed Toby gently.

"I loved you, so I guess I forgive you." Toby looked deep inside for the rage that had directed his movements but it was missing. There was nothing there but fatigue and something that might have been relief. He wasn’t sure. "Shit, I’m hungry."

Keller pulled him close and hugged him tight. "I loved you too."

Toby smiled. That was enough for now. He had to learn to do something besides hate again, and it was going to take some time. There was plenty of that in Oz.


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