~*~ The events of this story will incorporate external added elements from the author's imagination into the already rich and exhilarating canon narrative of the HBO original series, Oz. For the most part, the canon of the series will remain intact to preserve a sense of realism to the plot, while also being sensitive of the time flow of events occurring within Oz.
~*~ Although the characters to be featured are prominently factual in their given genre, they are the sole property of Tom Fontana and Barry Levinson, and are copyrighted to Rysher Entertainment and HBO. All original characters are of the author's creation and belong to him alone and, as with the rest of the story, may not be replicated or redistributed in any way without formal consent from said author.
~*~ Underage reading or any other illegalities is neither encouraged nor condoned in any way by the author. He also will not tolerate any form of plagiarism towards any of the words to come, as they are his and his alone. The principal objective is that of enjoyment and entertainment to you, the reader.
~*~ Address any type of question and/or feedback to email@example.com, making sure to add a relation to the story on the subject line of the e-mail to guarantee its reception.
A hack had called lights out about half an hour ago but his eyes were still wide open. His body was highly receptive to the high of his second D-tab. Alvarez touched his chest and it felt like fire extruded from his fingertips and burned into flesh. He mind traveled to that inescapable maze for what seemed like every night now and his body was becoming too used to the drug. He had so easily fallen off the good path he had been taking so long to try to be paroled.
He saw little orbs of lightning crashing and exploding against his skin as his eyes were glazed over. He tried to talk, but his throat was too dry. Everything he had fought for was no longer an option---could no longer be used to define him. When Alvarez was not high on Destiny, he often thought of Julie or Cathy Jo Cutler. Torquemada's seductive grip extended too far into his body. The man was touching his essence.
"Miguel, love, do you need any help taking off your pants?" the predator sweetly asked.
"Keeping pants on," his slurred words replied through his dry throat.
"But I see your large and throbbing manhood struggling to be set free. Set it free."
"I can help you."
Torquemada did not take the hint and slowly moved closer to where he was lying on his bed. He looked down at the partially naked man on the lower bunk and his mouth watered to see all of him again. Alvarez did not flinch when he felt pressure next to him on the bed as the man sat there. He had slipped further into the drugs. The goose bumps that covered his arms and chest kept exploding with lightning and he felt every one of them drive into him until Torquemada put a hand on his stomach.
"You are a beautiful god, Miguel," the queen moved up close to his ears and whispered. "My hands want to touch every part of you at once."
"Can I put my hand in your pants, darling?"
"Mm-hmm," was his unknowing response.
"Let me feel that big boy you have in there, baby."
The flamboyant man lewdly licked the lobes of Alvarez's ear while his hand rubbed its way down his abs and into his pants to claim the real prize. He smiled wickedly as he gently squeezed Alvarez's dick and the man's body responded by thrusting up to the touch. Torquemada used the tip of his tongue to trace one side of his jaw while both his hands worked on getting rid of Alvarez's pants.
He moved his face away from that tongue, but was powerless to move the rest of his body away from the grip it was in. The hint was not lost on him and Torquemada instead focused all his energy on stroking Alvarez's dick as his other hand rubbed against that sexy and tight stomach of his. Small moans passed through his lips and his body clenched at the sensation of being sexually touched and toyed with.
Torquemada's explicit lips moved down to his chest and planted kisses there before his tongue flickered out and teased a rapidly hardening nipple. The man was completely his for this moment---and, before long, he was going to be his for every second of every day. Teeth hardly grazed against the darkened orb on his chest while the queen's hand rapidly jacked him off. A false heat created itself and had the Latino fooled in so many ways.
"More. Faster," Alvarez allowed the drugs to say and his eyes remained closed.
"Anything for you, baby. How about my first kiss?" he tried to further his seduction and said.
Friction between them increased as his hand slid up and down the hard and pulsing shaft to bring his king the release his body was begging for. A seductive power came over him to have Alvarez in this position---depending on him for gratification. Torquemada continued licking and biting his nipple until he felt the body under him constrict and grunt out as the Latino came. He was saying a flurry of words in a mixture of the two languages he knew as the queen continued to milk his still hard dick.
"V---víb," he tried to say, but the word and thought was shooting too fast in his dazed head. "Víb---ora."
"What are you saying, Miguel?" the predatory queen asked as he got closer. "Is that some kind of pet name for me, handsome?"
"Víb---ora. Want---" Alvarez said and his head tilted to the side because the D-tabs had finally claimed him.
"That's all right. I'll find out what it means later. Soon, I will have every part of you, Miguel Alvarez."
Torquemada ran his hands up the sleeping man's body and rested them on his cascading chest to feel him breathe. A wicked glint flashed over his eyes in the darkness and he eased closer and closer. His lips touched Alvarez's unaware ones in a one-sided kiss. The tip of his tongue slithered out and dragged across the Latino's full bottom lip as he savored the masculine taste of him. Torquemada had a second taste and was even more hooked than he was by the first time---when he had tasted Alvarez's cum. The man tasted too good and felt too amazing to be left alone.
Querns had ruled Keller's death a suicide so Beecher was free of the charges. He had come back to Em City and had already settled back into his pod. Alvarez sat with Torquemada and Pancamo at an upstairs table as the two of them discussed business. Another D-tab had passed through his lips earlier in the morning and he was flying on that synthetic high all over again. O'Reily's lips had been on his last night. The Irishman was somehow in his pod and touching and kissing him.
"Looks like we'll need to do more convincing to get the niggers slinging for us," Pancamo said as his large forearms pressed into the table.
"You'd think they'd have learned by now. Without a leader, they are ripe for the picking. Just look at what happened to El Norte. Your associate muscled his way in and took it over for you."
"El Norte was a fucking joke!" Alvarez said out of nowhere and laughed.
"What's wrong with him?" Pancamo asked.
"He's in D-tab heaven," Torquemada affectionately looked at the Latino as he said. "He'll come down in a couple more hours."
"He's sure been there a lot these days."
"Alonzo?" Beecher approached the group and asked.
"We haven't had the pleasure of a formal introduction," the queen looked up and said.
"What is it, Beecher? We doing business here," the Italian boss said.
"Um---I hear you're the one to see about getting D-tabs," Beecher said.
"No, Beecher! Don't do it!" Alvarez angrily said and got up and left.
"Oh, don't mind him, dear," Torquemada said as he watched him walk away. "He's just having a bad morning."
"I want some," Beecher said.
Alvarez walked down and behind the stairs and sat there to clear his head and wait for the drugs to pass through him. The cycle had already conquered him and he was slipping further away from everything he had fought to accomplish for the past year. His knees pressed into his chest as he stared off into space and thought about Torquemada's sexual advances. The thoughts alone of him being so close slashed and hurt every inch of his skin.
"Alvarez, what's the matter with you?" Murphy came behind the stairs and said, but there was no response. "Alvarez, hey---Alvarez. Okay, come with me."
Officer Murphy went in and forcibly got him to his feet and took him out of Em City. Alvarez did not know where he was going and did not feel like caring about anything anymore. Oz owned his life now and he was tired of fighting back to make it belong to him again. The hack used most of his weight to walk the Latino through the prison and down a path that should have been familiar to the Latino, but it was not at the moment.
"Father, are you busy?" Murphy said when they both entered. "I have a situation."
"What's going on? Miguel---Miguel? What's wrong with him?" Father Mukada immediately got up from his desk and rushed over to the both of them.
"Not sure. That's why I brought him here," he said and rested Alvarez down on a chair.
"Father---what are you doing here?" the Latino said in a somber tone.
"Okay. Let me take care of this," he said and Murphy left and closed the door behind him.
The priest sat in front of him and said, "Miguel. Miguel, can you hear me?"
"Yeah---I'm not deaf."
"Miguel, are you using drugs again?"
"No," Alvarez lied and suddenly felt himself sobering up. "Yes."
"Oh. You've been doing so well these past months. Why would you go back on all your hard work?"
"You don't know what it's like---what it's like to be trapped in here," he said, and some of his words still dragged on longer than they should have.
"What's happened to you? Does all your hard work mean nothing?"
"No---not anymore. Not at all."
"I don't understand," Father Mukada said.
"Guess I'm doomed to let you down, Father."
"You haven't let me down, Miguel. You're letting yourself down."
"Sometimes---some small moments, you know, I hate what I'm becoming," Alvarez honestly said and wanted to suck the words back into his mouth. "What I'm doing."
"Then that's a sign. That's a sign that you should stop."
"Miguel, what's happened to make you turn to drugs? What happened to you?"
"Nothing. Nothing, Father."
Ruiz was someone he did not want to think about because his anger undermined his thoughts and he wanted to kill the man. Maybe that was whom he was all along and there was no more denying it. No amount of good deeds or keeping out of trouble would pull him out of the deep grave his life had always been in. Alvarez left the priest's office and remained by himself in the quad---the loner he always had been. He wanted another D-tab because the high was extinct by now.
"Well, well, well, Alvarez," Urbano came over to the table and said. "How does it feel to be Torquemada's little bitch these days?"
The words stung his brain and the dangerous fire inside the Latino ignited and was burning from the inside out. He jumped up with both his hands out, snatched the other man's neck with lightning speed, and began to choke him. The fucking mutt was not going to talk to him that way and something inside Alvarez snapped. He wanted to crush the man's windpipe. He wanted Urbano to stop talking forever.
Other inmates cheered at the fight as hacks surrounded both of them on the floor and tried to pull them off one another. His volatile insides had been stirred and provoked, but his hands were losing grip with Urbano's neck because two hacks were pulling him away. He kept one hand choking the living breath out of the fucker while his other hand swung forward and punched him in his face over and over. Urbano's nose was busted open and one of his eyes bruised when the guards finally made some progress in pulling them apart.
"Break it up. Let go! Let go, Alvarez!" one officer screamed and ordered him.
"Say it again, motherfucker. Say it again!" Alvarez said with that dangerous look in his eyes.
"That's it! In the cage, Alvarez!" Murphy demanded. "Now!"
"That cocksucker broke my nose!" Urbano yelled out as more blood spilled over his face. "You're dead---you hear me, Alvarez! You're fucking dead!"
Both guards pushed him into the cage and slammed the door shut behind him as he truly became trapped like an animal. The metal wiring was already closing in on him and he fell to the floor and closed his eyes to try to make it stop. Alvarez felt as if the wires were slicing into his skin and blood was spewing all over the place. Inside his mind, it was as if he was confined in Solitary all over again.
"Miguel, what the hell were you thinking?" McManus asked once the excitement had died down. "Miguel, I know you hear me. What happened to trying to make parole? Fine! If you give up on yourself, who else will you have then, huh?"
He wanted to be lost inside his own head because many inmates had been passing by him over the past few hours and had tied to provoke him with words or by shaking the cage. Alvarez had mostly remained calm because he had to get out as soon as possible. Another D-tab would have passed the time faster. It was partly the reason he was in there in the first place, though.
At the edge of Em City, their eyes connected after another few hours and the Latino felt naked and raw. O'Reily's green eyes vibrantly glowed with emotion and resentment as they were looking at each other. From so far away, he could see the man's stare and knew what his body language meant. Alvarez had messed up---and he was now being publically punished and ridiculed for it. The Irishman had warned him that getting involved with that queen would cause problems.
"Miguel, how are you doing in there?" Torquemada broke his stare and said.
"I got nothing to say."
"Oh, darling---you must learn to control that temper. How else are you ever going to get out of that ill-fitting cage? It does not become you at all, love."
"Fuck you! Get away from me," Alvarez demanded.
"Would you like a D-tab to calm your nerves? My treat. It'll take the edge off."
He glanced over at O'Reily and said, "Fuck off. I don't want shit to do with you."
"Now, now, dumpling. Why throw away all the hard work you and I have invested into our relationship?"
"There is no goddamn relationship! I'm not one of your fag friends."
"I know that," the queen said and smiled. "It is because you're not a fag that I'm attracted to you---or haven't you figured that out yet?"
"Leave me alone."
"You'll change your mind once you're back in our pod."
Alvarez ignored him and looked back to the familiar spot but it was vacant. O'Reily had disappeared during the latter part of his conversation with Torquemada. The look in his eyes said more than words could. He brought this mess on himself. The Latino leaned up against the cage and watched as people passed by on the outside as he thought. If Torquemada came back and offered him the D-tab again, he would have taken it.
Two days had passed and Alvarez was still in the cage because Querns had decided to make an example out of him to the rest of the scumfucks in Em City. O'Reily paced in his pod as he thought about ways to get the man out without revealing their partnership. Going to McManus was out---he had denied Dr. Nathan's words about bringing Seamus O'Reily into Em City. Just then, air suctioned out and the pod door opened.
"O'Reily, tell your father to stay away from me," Neema came in and said. "I see him looking at me whenever we're in the same room together."
"Hey, I don't control what he does, all right?" he snapped, but it was more because of the situation with the Latino than anything else.
"He already made one attempt at my life. I didn't want it to end up the way it did. Talk to him, Ryan."
"I did---once. That's all he's getting from me," O'Reily said and stared out his pod.
"I thought you two were fixing your relationship."
"We are. That doesn't mean I'm going to babysit him. He tried to kill you and got stabbed for it. If he doesn't learn from it, that's his fault---not mine."
"Are you upset with me---for stabbing him?" Neema asked and hated being put in this awkward position. "I know we've become closer during the ending of Cyril's trial."
"No---you defended yourself. Either one of you was going to get stabbed---or killed. My dad's a hothead, so maybe this incident will cool him off," he said and gazed at Alvarez's lifeless body lying in the cage.
"Now I know where you get it from."
"Fuck off! I'm not a hothead."
"I'll talk to him myself, then," Neema said. "Man to man."
"You're welcome to it."
He watched as the other man left and then quickly looked over to Alvarez, who was still lying in the cage like some sedated beast. All the Irishman knew was that he had attacked Urbano practically out of nowhere. He knew Alvarez, though---that stupid fuck had to have provoked him in some way. O'Reily was going to find the answers he needed, and he knew exactly who to get them from.
His emotions concerning Alvarez had strongly galvanized since Cyril's death. He had become immensely protective of the partnership and the relationship as well. It was what had spurred him to take action against Schillinger. O'Reily felt as if he was losing control of himself, and more so now that Alvarez was rapidly falling back into drugs and his own head. Something had to be done to save him from going back there.
Dr. Nathan was in her office having a private meeting with an inmate when he entered the infirmary for his shift. He barely thought about her anymore and knew she was morally uncomfortable around him after the kiss they had in the gym. O'Reily was not interested in that anymore because it was in his past. Matters that were more urgent were prominent in his mind.
"Yo, mick, can I get some juice here?" Urbano called out to him.
"You sure you can drink it with your nose all casted up like that, motherfucker?" he spat back as he went to retrieve a juice box. "You know a stupid fuck like you can't drink and breathe from your mouth at the same time."
"Suck my dick, O'Reily."
"Don't wish too hard. It'll never happen," O'Reily said and stuck the straw into the small box. "So, word is Alvarez kicked your ass all over Em City."
"Who's saying that shit?" the default El Norte leader angrily asked. "That fuckhead got a cheap shot in."
"A cheap shot, huh?" he played it cool and went looking for information. "That cocksucker. Why'd he attack you anyway?"
"I fucking told him the truth."
"He's Torquemada's bitch. He can't deny it," Urbano said with an evil smile plastered to his face. "Torquemada turned that little piece of shit into a fag."
"Alvarez---really? He's as straight as they come in here," the Irishman said and was getting more upset the further the conversation progressed.
"Not with Destiny. He becomes a queer's little bitch with it."
"Well, that little bitch broke that thing on your face you call a nose. What does that say about you?"
"Fuck you, mick! I told you---he got a cheap shot in."
"Yeah---over and over from what I can see."
"Kiss my ass!" he said but remained calm. "Can I get some more juice?"
"You've proven that you're smart enough to drink and breathe without drowning or suffocating, so---no."
Being around Torquemada really had started taking away from Alvarez's credibility inside here. Urbano definitely was not the only one who thought that he had become that queen's lapdog or bitch. Destiny was fucking with his mind and would eventually make him an open target for practically anyone to take advantage of---even Torquemada himself. That thought alone made O'Reily's skin crawl as he walked away from the bed.
The Irishman had to construct a plan carefully to get Torquemada out of the picture. His popularity had grown exponentially since his arrival. Destiny was quickly becoming the drug of choice among all the inmates and that fed into the queen's power. It needed to be some kind of angle that did not involve his personal relationship with Alvarez---the jealously and hatred that bubbled inside.
Before his shift was over, O'Reily looked through one of the medicine cabinets for the drugs he had been taking since Cyril's death. He had been relying on them more and more over the past days and had taken heavier dosages to fill the hole in his heart---the silence in his head. He rushed a handful of prescription pills into his pocket and was out of the hospital ward within no time. He was not going to be caught by the hacks with all these pills on him.
His urge to take any pills had passed, so they were all in a little pouch and stuffed deep within his mattress for safekeeping. He was sitting on a table close to his pod and flicking playing cards as his eyes would occasionally wander over to Alvarez, who was still in the cage. The good thing was that he was up and sitting against the wire. O'Reily was careful not to let anyone see him looking in that direction at all. Too many of the fucks in here were already using D-tabs, so that was not much of a challenge. His eyes quickly focused in on someone walking over to him.
"I don't believe we've been properly introduced," the queen said when he approached the table and extended his hand. "Alonzo Torquemada."
"There's a reason we haven't been introduced at all," O'Reily said without even looking up.
"Oh, and what would that be?"
"There's no interest I have in knowing you," he said and tried hard to hide the contempt in his voice.
"You will change your mind once you listen to what I have to say, Mr. Ryan O'Reily," Torquemada said and sat across the table from him.
"This conversation, and you, already bore me. Say your business and get on."
"I have a proposal to offer. A proposal that will make you a great deal of money inside these confining walls."
"That your doing?" the Irishman asked as he motioned his head to the cage, and the captured Miguel Alvarez.
"Now why would you think that, sugar?" he asked as if he was innocent, but there was a hidden smile there.
"You made him a---proposal, too, didn't you? That's the word over the prison."
"I'm not one to indulge in mindless gossip, Mr. O'Reily. Let's just say that Miguel Alvarez and I have come to an arrangement," Torquemada said with a glowing light in his one good eye. "Sling for me. It'll be worth your while."
"Didn't you hear Querns's warning? I prefer to remain out of the hole---and clothed," he cynically said as he read in between the other man's movements and language. "I'm not concerned with any of your deals."
"Such a shame," the ostentatious man said with a long face. "I hear you are the best at what you do in here."
"Mind-fucking---making whatever you want to happen, happen. Take your pick, sweetie."
"I thought you didn't listen to mindless gossip?" O'Reily said and the conversation had lost all flavor to him. "And don't fucking call me shit like that."
The nasty queen was dressed in a loud pink female blouse and a tight denim jacket and jeans. He looked like a walking mockery, but so many inmates were taking him and his D-tabs so seriously. O'Reily wanted to puke just from looking at him. He did not understand how Alvarez slept in the same pod with him night after night. A large pink and black flower was precariously pinned to the lapel that covered his heart.
"You'll think about it, then?" Torquemada said after he got up from the table.
"I have no doubt I won't, cocksucker."
"Such scathing hostility," he said and feigned a look of shock and pain. "I haven't done anything to you to deserve such malevolence."
His overacting was as sickening as his attire---and that unmoving eye of his. O'Reily took a deep breath to cool off his blood because every one of his instincts and impulses wanted him to jump across the table and crush the man's neck in until he took his last breath. Alvarez's eyes were on him and he looked over to tie them together for a few seconds. He wanted the man out of the cage badly. He missed the touch and comfort the Latino gave him.
At dinner, he was not hungry because of the unresolved emotions he felt for Alvarez and the unsettling conversation that had happened earlier between him and Torquemada. The man rubbed him the wrong way and he was definitely not going to start slinging Destiny for him. O'Reily had to get that drug out of Oz before it took over everything. The queen would be practically untouchable if that were to happen. He was not going to lose Alvarez to Destiny---or Torquemada.
"O'Reily, let's go," a hack approach the table and said.
"The warden wants to see you. Come on."
"What does he think I did now?"
The hack ignored the question and they both walked out of the cafeteria and towards Querns's office. He was in no mood for a meeting with the warden, especially since he did not know what it was about. Thoughts swirled inside his head as the guard knocked on the office door and was called in by Querns. Inside, the warden was behind his desk with McManus and Dr. Nathan sitting across from him. O'Reily looked at them all.
"O'Reily, take a seat," Querns said to him. "You can step outside, officer."
The door closed and O'Reily said, "What's all this about? Are all of you going to gang up on me?"
"Ryan---" Dr. Nathan tried to gently scold and comfort him at the same time.
"Your father killed Jahfree Neema about a half an hour ago," the warden said.
"Fuck!" he said and shook his head. "Fuck! Fuck!"
"We have him in Solitary," McManus said. "He's asked to see you."
"What'd you say? Let me see him---talk to him."
"I told him I'd see," McManus told him.
"He will be put on death row for the murder," Querns said with very little compassion in his voice.
"What? What the fuck for?" O'Reily's voice rose as his mind struggled to piece together what the words meant.
"Your father stabbed Neema in the neck four times, Ryan," Dr. Nathan said. "And then once in the chest."
"No---no! This can't be happening again!" he sprung up from the chair and yelled.
"Ryan---Ryan, calm down," she said.
"You can't do this---you can't do this! Not to my dad, too! Not after---not after Cyril!"
"You need to get him a lawyer as soon as possible because the state has already picked up the case," Querns said as if he did not care. "They will go for the death penalty."
"I'll have an officer escort us down to Solitary for a couple minutes with him," McManus said.
"Don't expect any special treatment beyond this," Querns warned him. "You got ten minutes down in Solitary. Make good use of it."
"This isn't happening. Not him, too," he murmured to himself.
The cycle was repeating itself all over again, and so soon after the whirlwind of the first one had finished. O'Reily left the office with his mind in tattered ruins and his body refusing to accept what was going on. Both McManus and a guard walked him down to Solitary to talk to his father. He had remained quiet the whole way there---everything was building up and threatening to bubble over and burn his insides. The large metal door opened and his father came into view.
"Can I go in and have some time alone with him?" he asked the unit manager. "Come on, McManus."
"Uh---okay. Only a few minutes, though," he agreed and then turned to the guard. "Close the door behind us."
"You fucking old bastard!" O'Reily lost it when they were alone and punched his father's on side of his face. "What the hell were you thinking, huh? What the fuck, dad?"
"Ryan---Ryan," Seamus O'Reily said and he rubbed his face.
"So soon after Cyril! Did you even think about that? Querns wants the death penalty, and you know what---he's going to get it."
"I---I wasn't thinking, Ryan. I had to take care of that nigger---for all the shit he did to me and your mother."
"I told you to stay the hell away from him! I told you that!" the Irishman continued to scream and felt his voice was giving up on him. "I can't believe this."
"Sorry---sorry. Something inside me took over. I had to take him out."
"Did you even think how this was going to affect you---me?" he stopped yelling because his voice was raw. "Do you know how serious this is? Do you, dad? Goddammit!"
"I know, son---I know. What do we do now?" his father asked, with anxiety in his voice.
"How the hell am I supposed to know? I can't go through this again---I can't," O'Reily said as he leaned against the wall of the cell and rubbed his hands in his face. "Cyril's death crippled me. I can't take more."
"Ryan, listen to me---listen to me," Seamus O'Reily grabbed his son's arms and said. "We'll fight this. We'll hire and lawyer and fight this. I won't ever see death row---you watch and see."
"Not if the state has their way. You fucked up, dad. You fucked up all our lives just like you always do. I can't believe you'd do this---after everything I went through with Cyril."
The metal gates creaked open and McManus said, "That's it. Time to go, O'Reily."
"Be strong, son---be strong," his father said and hugged him.
"Fuck you!" the Irishman shrugged him off and walked out of the cell.
Impulses were telling him to pull out his hair or dig into his skin---to do something that would make him feel again. His body was too numb to any sensations and he popped two more of the stolen pills into his mouth and looked out at the blackened quad. They had just started repairing their fragmented relationship and it could all be over. O'Reily throat was sore and his skin riddled with nerves as he desperately waited for the high to come and take him away.
Then, he would be able to forget the shit his life had turned to. His lost feelings for Dr. Nathan because of Alvarez---and now, that fucking queen Torquemada trying to come between them. Cyril's death had almost made him want to stop his own heart so that they could be together again. Now, his father placed himself in the same situation and there was no telling how everything was going to end up. All the faith he had struggled so hard to build up and maintain for himself had seeped away and left an empty shell---a lifeless cocoon.