Chapter Text
Drip, drip, drip.
The familiar sound of rainwater leaking through the corner of a cell window and onto the toilet tank rang around the tiny six by eight-foot room.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
The dripping was accompanied by the taunting howling of wind and life outside Blackgate Penitentiary. For Ryan Wilder, the dripping and howling were a countdown of a long sentence in what she could only describe as hell on earth.
It had been 83 days since she arrived at the place she was to call home for the foreseeable future, and each of them were a fresh day of torture. She’d already been through two bunkies; the first, Rubi, was a bully that reminded her all too well of some of the girls from her old group home; and the second, Wallis, although relatively untroublesome had a penchant for stealing her things, not that she had much to begin with. However, she was gone now too, and Ryan left alone with nothing but her thoughts.
For the past seven days, she guessed – after three days of isolation the hours of day and night seemed to melt into one another – the grief she had been avoiding came for her in full force.
Without the distraction of constantly watching and waiting for one of Rubi’s random bursts of violence, or listening to Wallis’ endless droll conversations, all Ryan had for company were painful memories of everything that was gone.
Mama Cora, taken from her so callously and all too soon by Alice’s Wonderland gang. Although her rage kept her mind stimulated enough to exercise daily in preparation for her vengeance, it wasn’t enough to take away all the good memories, and answered prayers, and never-to-be fulfilled hopes her Mama gave her.
Ryan was crippled by the grief, and it left her weeping silently into her dank smelling pillow and counting raindrops and listening to the bustle of Gotham city in the distance.
It was another day of the same monotonous routine when a guard suddenly interrupted her brooding.
“Prisoner 053095 up!”
She rolled over and peered up to the guard eyeing her through the food flap.
“What is it?”
It wasn’t yard day and there was usually no warning when she got a new cellmate, so she was suspicious of the sudden change.
“You’ve got your first visitor. Now, I suggest you get up before I change my mind.”
Despite her weariness, Ryan was up in an instant and couldn’t curb the excitement she felt rise within.
Finally.
In all the days she had been locked up, each visitors day her hopes had been dashed when the one person on her visitors list never showed up.
Angelique Martin.
Without her mother, Angelique was all she had left, and despite her being in jail for her drugs, she still held onto her. It was complicated between them, but Ryan held on for the little girl that had saved her back when she truly had no one that cared; no one she belonged to. With Angelique, they made each other a place of belonging, and although it was probably the furthest thing from healthy, it was all they had.
Yet, as she walked shackled behind the guard, they passed the visitors hall and her hopes were once again dashed, in favour of something more familiar, disappointment.
Ryan hung her head low as she continued to follow the guard, no longer caring where it was she was going, figuring it was probably just her useless public defender with bad news.
“Oh, you didn’t actually think someone cared enough to come visit you, did you?” The guard jeered.
Ryan curled her fists but didn’t rise to the taunt, knowing that adding assaulting a guard to her awaiting sentencing would only make whatever was waiting for her in the room worse.
She was dragged cuffs first in, and with the guard’s final shove into her chain, she felt the mixture of her emotions collide; disappointment, grief and anger. As she was about to snap, she finally noticed her visitor, and for some reason she could not explain, all negative emotions fell away.
It was none other than the last Crows agent she had an interview with before she was bought to Blackgate jail.
“Agent Moore?”
She would never forget the other woman, who was the kinder of the Crow agents she dealt with. Also, if she was also easy on the eye, Ryan pushed those thoughts aside for the hatred she nurtured against the Crows. She could not understand how the other woman, who appeared to actually have a heart, could work for such an organisation.
“Uncuff her, they aren’t necessary,” Moore instructed to the guard.
“It’s probably better they stay on, these criminals are animals.”
“I wasn’t asking. You might need them, but I don’t. Now, uncuff her and give us the room, I’ll call you and your cuffs in when I’m done.” She commanded in a tone that had him cowering in embarrassment.
Ryan bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. If it weren’t for their current situation, she might have been outwardly impressed, especially as she watched him undo her cuffs, avoiding all eye-contact in humiliation.
“Aw Agent Moore, I had no idea you cared so much. First the visit, and now cuff’s off, people will talk,” Ryan teased.
The other woman, who always sat like she had a literal stick up her ass, as well as a metaphorical one, seemed to shift uncomfortably at Ryan’s words but ignored them all the same, as she pulled out a file from a briefcase.
“Miss Wilder. I’m glad to see you’ve maintained your wonderful sense of humour in here,” she answered, voice laced with annoyance.
“’Miss Wilder’, so formal, surely we’re past that Agent Moore, can I at least get your first name?”
Eyes the most extraordinary copper-brown colour that she had ever seen, narrowed as they deliberated on answering the question.
“If I tell you, will you cooperate with me today?”
“When have I ever not been cooperative with you?”
Moore pushed out a humourless laugh.
Despite her hostile behaviour, non-compliance and general silence to the other agents, she had spoken the most with Agent Moore, so it wasn’t really a lie.
“I distinctly remember you chastising me and kicking me out for, how did you put it, ah yes, ‘a fake sista to sista routine’.”
Ryan regarded the other woman then to sus out her motives.
She wore light makeup but still looked like a model, her hair was down in pristine waves with no lock out of place, and she sat in her uniform without a single crease in her attire and Ryan couldn’t help the reverence she felt.
Agent Moore was truly a vision, and even back when they first met Ryan had been in awe. It was in the confidence she had about her, the way she commanded the men around her, and the respect Commander Kane showed her. She hated that this woman, who in any other career would have been a Queen Ryan might have looked up to, chose to work for a corrupt organisation no better than GCPD.
“In my defence, when they pull out the top black woman, and I’m guessing one of very few, what else am I supposed to think it is?”
The other woman looked a little surprised as she took in Ryan’s words.
“Ok then. My name is Sophie,” she answered, voice soft.
This time it was Ryan’s turn to be surprised. The simple statement appeared to be an olive branch and even when Ryan scrutinised her expression for any sign of deception, she found none.
“Sophie…” Ryan mimicked, tasting the name on her tongue. “…It suits you.”
Sophie smiled then, and if the sight made Ryan’s heart beat a little faster, she ignored it. Instead, she noted how the other woman toyed almost subconsciously with the rings on her marriage finger. The way they sat loosely on her finger told Ryan that it was new.
“‘Agent Moore’, I’m guessing that’s your name, and not your husband’s; you don’t strike me as the kind of woman to take a man’s name,” Ryan commented.
The smile dropped from Sophie’s features and was replaced with an expression Ryan could only read as regret. However, the look was gone as quickly as it came.
“Do I strike you as the type of woman who would try to play you?” Again, her voice was soft in a way that disarmed Ryan, and she genuinely didn’t know what to make of the other woman.
“That remains undecided, you’re still a Crow first, no matter how pretty you or your name are.”
Sophie’s eyebrows rose almost imperceptibly at the words before she dropped her head slightly disappointed.
“I’m more than just a uniform, and this is me talking to you woman to woman.”
For reasons Ryan couldn’t comprehend, she found herself wanting to drop the games.
“Ok, I’ll talk to you, I can’t promise you more than that,” she said, without a single hint of attitude.
Another smile, this time wide across her face like she was the one whose life depended on this conversation. Again, Ryan’s heart fluttered, and she couldn’t help but flash her a small one of her own.
“I believe you about you said happened...” she started.
Of all the agents Ryan had dealt with since the arrest, none of them even tried to hear her side of the story, more focussed on pushing for a confession.
Something swirled in the pit of her stomach, as she saw Sophie look at her as more than just a criminal. She wanted to trust the other woman, but how could she when she was a part of the same organisation which arrested her and would see her put away for crimes she didn’t commit?
“…I know those drugs weren’t yours, but if you don’t want to go away for this you need to tell me whose they were.”
“I-I don’t know whose they were.” Ryan cringed at how easily her voice wavered.
Reading her like a book, Sophie contorted her face into an expression of deep disillusionment, a look she had not seen on anyone since Mama Cora caught her skipping school to go with Angelique to her first drug run.
“If this is going to work, you need to be real with me.”
A part of her wanted to be, screamed at her to blurt out the truth to concerned eyes, but she could never sell out Angelique for all she owed her. She was the first person she could ever call family, and more than that, if she did so, Angelique would go away for far longer for all her juvenile offences.
“If you know they’re not mine, why am I still in here?”
“Because drugs were still found, and someone has to go down for that.” She stated matter-of-factly.
Something in the black and white way Sophie explained it, irked Ryan.
“My mom was murdered right in front me, and I came to you Crows and told you who did it. You guys passed it onto the GCPD because I wasn’t worthy for the privilege of your service. Yet, I am sat here for something I didn’t do, and my mom’s killer and her gang are still out there, so explain to me who goes down for that.”
Sophie looked almost embarrassed but the determination in her brow didn’t budge.
“I’m sorry for what happened to your mom. If it was my case I would be working as hard as I am now to help you.”
Ryan felt anger begin to boil in her, at her situation, at her mother’s loss, at Angelique… at Sophie.
“Help? This is what you call this?” She snapped.
It was a knee-jerk reaction because a part of her did believe the Crow actually was trying to help her.
“Yes. You could get out of here Ryan, if you just admit the drugs were Angelique’s!” Sophie snapped back.
Sophie knew the entire time. Ryan felt stupid for ever falling for pretty words and a pretty face.
“So much for being real huh, Crowphie?”
Sophie must have read the distrust on her face for the sharp breath she released and the way she softened her demeanour again.
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the girl with a juvenile record as long as my arm for drug possession, that you happen to live with, is the real culprit,” she explained.
“You can’t prove that.”
“No, I can’t. But without you, I can’t get the real drug pushers that use vulnerable people to sell and take their drugs, and that’s what you want isn’t it?”
Whatever trust that had been built between them was gone and Ryan felt her walls go up, Sophie the Crow would never understand what it was to sacrifice for love, and Ryan hated that she had thought the other woman was any different.
“I told your Crow buddies before, the drugs weren’t mine, and I don’t know whose they were-”
“I know. I listened to your previous interrogations, I know you were trying to get rid of them to get your girl clean, right?” she interrupted.
Sophie probed but Ryan was still letting the betrayal settle inside her. Even if she was right, she was reluctant to admit anything now, even with the sincerity dancing in the copper pools the other woman had for eyes.
“I shouldn’t be talking to you without my lawyer,” Ryan deflected.
“This isn’t an interrogation…” she said lifting up her papers and opening her bag.
“… there’s no recording or anything.”
“Then what it is this?” she asked icily.
“It’s what I said, I’m trying to help save you.”
She hated the care which laced the Crows voice, hated that they were on opposite sides, and if Ryan was honest with herself, she resented the other woman for it, despite her kindness.
“Why?”
Ryan noted the way Sophie’s hand curled, almost as if stopping herself from reaching out.
“It’s the right thing to do. Your sentencing is next week, and I don’t think you deserve to rot away here in Blackgate for something you didn’t do.”
Ryan had lived a life that didn’t allow her to trust because she knew eventually, she would get burned. No one in a Crows uniform ever helped anyone where she came from, and she would be entirely foolish to believe they would start now.
“Thanks for the offer, but no thanks, I can take of myself.”
“Clearly you can’t, you’re looking at a fifteen-year sentence.”
The words were meant to scare her, and they did. Fifteen years was a long time, and the 83 days she had endured so far were close to unbearable, and she didn’t know how she could do any more.
“…I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself. Let me help you,” Sophie pled.
If this was an act, Sophie deserved an academy award for just how believable she was. Just when Ryan was feeling the most alone than she ever had, she was tempted to take the hand offered out to her by the other woman.
Although Sophie’s hands were the rough ones of someone who upheld the law with tight fists, Ryan thought they looked soft.
“Let’s say I did tell you who’s the drugs were, and who sold them to them, what would happen?”
Ryan didn’t know why she relented, if only a little; maybe it was the tender gaze of the woman opposite her but some part of her willed begging copper orbs to understand and make it better.
“You would be released, you don’t have any priors. You would be free Ryan.”
“Not to me, to…”
Sophie shifted uncomfortably then, and her eyes avoided hers for the first time.
“I said I’d be real, so I won’t lie to you now. Your friend’s got a past so she’d still be looking at a longer than fifteen years, but if she helped us, there could be a reduced sentence.”
The hope she tried to not make herself feel disappeared like smoke in her hands. That was no real future at all. She knew that Blackgate would be the end of Angelique, she would never see the light of freedom again. There were arguably more drugs inside Blackgate than there were on the streets, and without hope, Angelique would crumble to the pressure. How could Ryan say she loved her and leave her to that fate.
“I’d be free, but at what cost though? You’re asking me to tie the noose for the only person I’ve got left in this world.” It was an admission she didn’t mean to make, but there was little use in lying now, when it seemed Sophie read every emotion on her as easy as book anyway.
“You would have a chance at life again.”
“I have no life without her, out there I will be alone.”
Something like realisation dawned on Sophie’s face, turning her hopeful expression into something akin to pity. Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly, before she spoke again.
“You’re already alone. I’ve seen your visitor’s log, she hasn’t come a single time even though you’ve been here nearly three months.”
“S-she’s in rehab.”
Angelique had promised her to get clean. Even if Ryan didn’t entirely believe her, it was what she had held onto the past few months.
The other woman shifted the documents in her file. Catching Sophie’s hand before she finished pulling out whatever was in her file was all Ryan could do before her false reality would crumble.
Sophie looked down at her grip on her wrist, but didn’t look at all threatened, and Ryan dropped her hand for the something she felt go through her at the touch.
“I don’t need to show you these photos for you to know that’s not true, she’s not in rehab...”
Ryan knew it but the confirmation ripped through her just the same.
“…Is she really someone who deserves your sacrifice?”
The words struck Ryan like physical blows because somewhere in the back of her mind she knew the other woman was right. Yet, that was not a reality she could accept.
Angelique and her came from nothing, and until Mama Cora, they never had anyone to teach them what love was, but Angelique never got saved like she did. So, even though it hurt that she was nowhere to be found, Ryan knew it wasn’t because Angelique didn’t love her, it was because she didn’t know how.
Quieter, Ryan admitted to herself that she was terrified of living a life outside of Blackgate alone, for as much as she was a crutch for Angelique, her girlfriend was a crutch for her too. Jail may have been lonely, but it was nothing compared to the loneliness she was certain to feel outside with no one to call home.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Ryan said, resigning herself to her fate.
“Then help me to,” Sophie urged, dropping the file and reaching for her hand this time, although in an entirely different manner.
Again, with the meeting of their skin, Ryan felt that something she was determined to ignore coarse through her, yet she could not resist tightening her grip around the thumb which slipped between hand.
Ryan released a humourless laugh, feeling naive for ever getting her hopes up. Nothing good ever happened to people like her and Angelique, and certainly no pretty Crows agent could truly help them.
“You want to save someone?”
Confusion registered on Sophie’s face as Ryan felt a hurricane of emotions overtake her as she spoke.
“…Go back to when we were fourteen, and Angelique’s foster father forced her to sell drugs for the first time. She refused until he beat her black and blue. Then, when he made her start taking the drugs, I helped her run away, but the social worker dragged her right back to that hellhole. So, from then on, she lived that life, and I was right there with her because that’s what you do when you come from nowhere...”
She could have sworn she saw tears glistening in Sophie’s eyes, but she couldn’t see clearly enough through her own to make that assessment. However, she did feel the other woman’s hand grip as tightly back.
“…You belong to no one and so you do what you can to survive. You get arrested as a juvenile just to get a break from the hell of the streets. But when you get old enough and they start threatening you with real charges you realise you’re stuck in the hell. So, maybe you take drugs to block it out, and you sell them because that’s all you know, because between juvie and bad group homes and foster homes what useful skills did you actually learn?”
Ryan pushed out a sharp breath and pulled her hand away from Sophie like she had been burned, despite the touch being the only thing grounding her.
“And here you come thinking you can save somebody, save me… I’m already trying save somebody, the person who saved me when I was the little girl people like your Crows don’t care about.”
Silence spread between them like a bad smell in the air.
Sophie shifted like she wanted to reach out again, but Ryan immediately placed her hands under the table, unwilling to accept the comfort or explore the pointless something she felt every time they touched.
They were from two different worlds which would never collide, and Ryan was resigned to not flirting with the impossible. Even if Sophie meant everything she said, Ryan knew she was better off believing everything was some twisted ploy to get a confession and so she reinforced her walls and fell back into familiar skin.
“I don’t need saving or whatever it is you’re doing here.”
“No I-”
“Guard!” Ryan interrupted, standing.
Before she backed away, Sophie caught her wrist. When Ryan met her gaze, something filled with desperation, she almost relented to her pleas.
“Don’t do this Ryan, you’re better than this.”
Almost.
“GUARD! GUARD! GUARD! GET ME OUT!” She yelled out, yanking her wrist away and smashing her hands repeatedly across the table.
She smashed and smashed, throwing the documents and files across the floor, and pummelling the table so hard she heard it tremor against the floor.
She let out every frustration she had and painted herself the monster the world believed her to be.
Within moments, the inmate found herself face first against table and hands restrained behind her back before being shackled.
Sophie watched on in horror at her wild display. If Ryan saw hope die in her warm copper orbs, she assuaged herself with the knowledge that it was better this way.
“I told you, they’re bloody animals,” the guard said as he began taking her back to her cell.
Before she was completely dragged away, for good measure, she called out. “Don’t come here again, Crow!”
Ryan was sure any sympathy or pity the Crow’s agent had for her was gone after their failed meeting. Afterall, she spat everything back in her face. However, when she was sentenced to only 18 months, including time already served, from a surprise offered plea deal, the young woman could not help but wonder if Sophie had something to do with it.
Nonetheless, she had no time to ponder on what-ifs, and pushed all thoughts of Sophie Moore to the back of her mind, and concentrated on surviving Blackgate Penitentiary.