Hi all, time for something different!
This is my first Oz fic so I'm a bit nervous about posting this. I got into this show in October and have become addicted, especially to the relationship between Beecher and Keller. I became so fascinated by both of them and their brilliant story that I had to write something about them and this is the result! It's slash (unsurpisingly) and includes a graphic sex scene. If you don't like that sort of thing (well, maybe you're in the wrong section!!) but anyway, give this one a miss if you don't like man/man love!
I hope you enjoy this. Please eview and remember this is my first effort for this fandom so please be kind! Thank you!
Beecher sat, slouching back in his chair, staring at the computer screen before him. He'd been perched like that now since he'd begun work for the day, well over an hour ago. He'd managed to type not a single letter that whole time and he was also completely unaware that Sister Peter Marie had been watching him very closely for the last ten minutes.
"Earth to Tobias?"
He looked around abruptly, catching her gaze. The sister smiled pleasantly at the man that she had grown to know as a friend.
"Is something wrong?" She asked him and he sighed resignedly, turning his attention back to his lack of work.
"Sorry." He muttered quietly, "I'll get on with this." He stretched, his tiredness suddenly hitting him full on. "I don't know where my mind is today."
She nodded. "Probably where it usually is. Not here, that's for certain." She began to tap her pen against her chin as she fixed him with that look he knew only to well. As she gazed intently, Beecher knew that Sister Pete was trying to see deep inside of him, to work him out. He couldn't help but chuckle.
He couldn't work himself out. What hope did she have?
She sighed as she slipped off her spectacles and inspected them carefully. "So, what are you thinking about, Tobias?" She inquired. "Or perhaps I should I ask; Who?"
Beecher looked away hurriedly and finally began to tap away at the keyboard. He didn't look back at her as he replied; "Lets not go there, yeah?"
"Why?" She responded. "Too painful?"
He wanted this conversation over. "Always."
She placed her pen on her desk, sat back and crossed her arms over her chest.
"With you in this mood, Tobias; it's clear we are not going to get much done this morning."
He stopped. "Sorry," he said again. He gave her an apologetic smile as he joked; "Please don't fire me."
She laughed. "Well, maybe a written warning this time?"
He nodded, with a smile.
"Or at least I would," she continued; "If my assistant had bothered to notice that we seem to be out of printer paper!"
Beecher closed his eyes. "Oh, Sister Pete." He covered his face with his hands. "I'm a nightmare today, aren't I?" He gave himself a shake. "I'm so sorry."
She tutted. "Really Tobias, if you say that word just once more, I can promise you that you definitely will be sorry!" She smiled at him kindly and then gestured towards the door. "Why don't you take a break? Go to the storage room for me and grab a couple of boxes of paper? Maybe take the time to try and sort out the mess in your head along the way?" Her eyes twinkled as she teased him. "Then perhaps, we could actually get some work done today. What do you say?"
"Deal!" He grinned at her, grateful as usual for her help and friendship. He knew as he rushed out of her office that he would truly be lost with her. Thank God he had someone who was right there beside him, generally on his side. Well, two, if he counted Said. And he knew he could, the man had become his conscience in that place and he knew that he trusted him. However, Toby was also very aware that Sister Pete was some goodness for him to cling on to, an angel surrounded by all the devils doing her utmost to survive and to pull him out with her. To him, she was worth her weight in gold.
As he walked away, he heard her calling after him.
"Don't be too long, Tobias!"
He switched on the light in the storage room, pleased to discover that he was by himself at that moment, that he could be alone with his thoughts. He has been in pieces that day, and, just as he knew Sister Pete was only too aware, the state he was in was all thanks to Chris Keller.
Toby gazed around, remembering how he had crept up behind Keller in that very room, as the man had stacked paper. A strange coincidence, Toby reasoned, as his mind wandered. Paper must be important somehow, in the great scheme of things?
Why was that?
And why were there no good nursery rhymes about paper?
He laughed out loud and then cursed in annoyance.
He had no idea why he wanted to swear, why he wanted nothing more in that second but to stand at the top of this fucking bastard building and scream himself hoarse.
What the fuck am I even thinking about?
Toby shook his head and took a deep breath. His thoughts could get so garbled at times, it could be difficult for him to think clearly. Especially when those thoughts were trained on his own guilt and self-hatred. Not always though. No. Sometimes, since coming to Oz, Beecher had known exactly what he had needed to do and he'd gone out and got it done. No mistakes, no doubts.
Boom Boom, baby!
Just like before, in this room, when he had stabbed Keller twice in the back, revenge for the sucker's betrayal of him to Vern Schillinger. He cringed as he recalled that day in the Gym, that fateful day when Keller had pinned Toby down and had laughed hysterically as he had snapped Beecher's bones in half as if they were twigs. Beecher still had nightmares from that day, could still hear their taunts and laughter as they had broken his arms and legs. It had burned within him for months as he had recovered, his hatred for them and for himself. He had his own sense of helplessness. He had grown so good at being tough. He had learned in Oz, learned to be cold and hard and to let no one in. He had let his guard down and had been punished brutally for it.
He had been a fool.
He'd had a long time to rue his mistakes. All he had dreamed during that long and lonely time in the hospital was to make them pay – and he had succeeded. That Nazi hack, Metzger, had died at Toby's own hand, stupidly believing that poor little Beecher was broken and helpless. And then, Beecher's attentions had turned to his former pod mate, the man who he had declared his love for, honestly and devotedly. And in return, Keller had torn his heart out and stamped on it. He had sided with the bastard Beecher despised above all others. Oh, how he had wanted to kill Chris in that moment, to take his God given chance, when he had slid the knife into Keller's flesh as if it had been butter and had then left him to die.
Alone in the dark.
But Keller had done something once again unexpected. He had survived. He had turned on Vern, not only confessing to their attack on Toby but also aiding Beecher and O'Reily in their plan to gain vengeance on Schillinger, through his son, Andy. And Keller had played his part well, they all had done. Especially Beecher. Oh yes, Andy had loved him. Beecher had become the father figure Andy had craved as his own father had failed him so spectacularly. And they won the game. Schillinger was forced to cause of the death of his own flesh and blood. Andy had died of a drug overdose, just as he had beaten the poison, with Beecher's pretend aid.
Andy had died horribly, in the Hellish hole. Friendless and alone.
Alone in the dark.
Thanks to Toby's clever scheming. Oh yes, Beecher had so much reason to be proud.
Toby crossed the room, every step was burdened by his over active mind, still crammed full of regrets, memories and pain. After Andy's death, Schillinger had obviously come after him, tried to kill him. He'd got very close, actually stabbing Beecher. Said could not have helped him, too far away, too caught up in his own fight. No, Keller had come through for him. Chris Keller had saved his life so Toby had found himself doing the one thing he had swore to avoid at all costs. He'd let Chris Keller back in. He had admitted to himself finally that he truly was in love with the other man, something not even betrayal could change.
And Toby had known, for a couple of glorious weeks, that he was truly loved in return.
And then it had all gone so horribly wrong.
His son and daughter had been kidnapped and his little boy had ended up dead. And he had stupidly and inexplicably believed a stranger's lies and had blamed his lover. And now Chris would never forgive him. And Toby could not even blame him. But oh Fuck, did he miss him.
Beecher swallowed hard. What had he learned since coming to this Hell hole? Nothing apparently. You show weakness, you get yourself killed. Simple as that. And Keller was Beecher's weakness. He had to get over this. He was not a little teenage girl mooning over her first crush, for Christ's sake! He slammed his fist down on a shelf before him and then swore loudly when his fist exploded with pain.
"Fucking cocksucker!" Toby snapped angrily, as he cradled his hand against his body.
Oh yeah, just great. A bruised knuckle clearly makes everything better.
He looked around the room again, deciding to fucking grow up and get on with the task he had been sent there to do. He finally saw what he had come for, paper stored up neatly, high on the top shelf of a cabinet by the wall. Inwardly, he cursed himself again for being so fucking short. He wished he was taller, like Chris. He swore loudly. God, he was pathetic. Why did every thought he had eventually turn to Chris Keller? How was he ever going to move on if he could never get Keller out of his head?
It was over. He'd blown it. He'd just have to learn to live with it.
Toby frowned. He swept his hair, now wet from sweat, away from his forehead. He missed Keller. There was no getting away from that fact. And, what made it so hard to stomach was the fact that he knew he'd fucked it all up himself. Keller had worked so hard to regain his trust. Why hadn't Toby noticed? Why hadn't he'd seen what he had, cherished it? Instead, he had wasted it. He thought back to breakfast that morning and how Keller, sitting as usual beside O'Reily had stared at him, not blinking. Toby would love to know what Chris had been thinking as he looked at Toby. Not good things, most likely. Not after the run in Toby had had with both Keller and O'Reily at Sister Pete's rehab meeting the day before. O'Reily had stared daggers at Beecher ever since, while Keller had just looked on, face blank. If only Beecher could understand, just for a second, what was going on inside that calculating head.
Toby chuckled. Like he had ever understood Keller. The man was an enigma. There may have been moments when he had opened up to Toby, in lock down, after Chris had returned having been shot. But those moments were few and far between and now well and truly over and done with. One thing Toby did know for certain was that he loved Keller. He loved him completely. If only he could take his stupidity back, make those decisions again. He had been so fucking stupid, trusting the Jewish guy. His first instinct had been right, he knew Schillinger had been behind the kidnap of his kids, his sons death. If only he had trusted himself. If only he'd had faith in Chris.
Now, he had nothing. He was completely alone and had reduced himself to a whore, offering his services to anyone willing to take his body, just to feel something. The men who had lowered themselves to touch him had then turned up dead, murdered by Keller because, although he didn't want Toby for himself, he couldn't allow anyone else to touch HIS property. So, he had butchered them. And Toby was left once more with no comfort, no pleasure, no nothing. Said, though still his friend and confidant, had seen him with one of his partners and now viewed him with a distaste that the man couldn't hide, no matter how much he tried. As far as Said was concerned, Beecher was contaminated and had turned away from Allah. Toby was certain that Said, like Chris, had lost faith in him and would never truly forgive him.
Pursing his lips together, Beecher grabbed a chair and dragged it across the room. He placed it under the required shelf and climbed up onto it, reaching up and seizing a packet of paper. Time to go back. He suddenly felt a little sick. Although he loved and valued Sister Pete and her advice, he could also find her never ending probing questions a constant annoyance. Toby was sure she saw him as a challenge these days, she seemed so desperate to get through to him. Maybe a guilty conscience? She had after all offered him no comfort during his darkest days. Only one person had tried to help him, and he had pushed him away. And Chris was never gonna come back to him. Ever.
Toby rubbed a hand again through his soggy hair and closed his eyes tightly. He could go on regretting that moment when he had gone at Chris with a knife for the rest of his life, it wouldn't change a thing. No matter how twisted or wrong the relationship had been, it had been something right for him. Another human being had wanted to love him, to be with him and he had pushed that person away. And now it was all gone. He jumped down from the chair and gave it a small kick, back to where he had found it.
Suddenly, Toby's thoughts were interrupted when he could have sworn he heard a soft sound from behind him and he turned round sharply, immediately on alert. There was nothing there. He frowned, certain that it had been footsteps he had heard.
"Someone there?" He called out. No reply. He tried again, more urgently; "Hello?" Still, no answer.
Just when he was prepared to start shouting, the lights suddenly went out, plunging Toby into darkness. He twisted around on the spot in panic, knowing for sure now that he was no longer alone.
Beecher shivered, dread filling him. He was again reminded of sneaking up on Keller on that terrible day, when he had decided to commit his second murder. Beecher found himself copying Keller's actions from before, taking hold of a box and raising it, ready to use as a weapon to protect himself from the attack he knew was about to happen.
"Why don't you show yourself?" He yelled into the silence.
When the attack came, Beecher didn't stand a chance. He was thrown backwards, the box he had been wielding to defend himself sent flying. Toby quickly found himself pinned against a wall face first, unable to move or fight back. He tried to cry out and moaned as a hand was clamped over his mouth. He struggled against the iron grip that was holding him, regardless of the fact that he knew it was pointless. He was breathless and afraid but as far as he was concerned, he was fighting for his life. He was not about to go out with a whimper.
He was completely taken aback when his aggressor began to stroke his hair and whispered one word, right in his ear.
Beecher froze, momentarily too stunned to move. Chris. Chris was pressed up against him in the dark, holding him tightly, keeping him prisoner.
Keller chuckled coldly in his ear and pulled his hand away from Beecher's mouth, preferring to wrap his arm around the smaller man's body instead. Toby tensed at the contact, causing Keller to snicker at him again.
"What the fuck do you..." Beecher began angrily but a warning smack to the back of his head rendered him quickly silent.
"Be a good boy and stay the fuck still," Chris drawled in his ear. "We won't have long."
Toby, incensed and embarrassed by the hopelessness of his situation, began to struggle earnestly again, trying to pull free of Chris' hold, wanting to turn and face him but Chris held him firmly. He wasn't moving a muscle until Keller allowed him to. That much was clear.
"You remember the last time you and I played out a scenario like this, don't you Toby?" Chris hissed to his captive. "Here in this very room if memory serves. Course, things are gonna go a bit differently this time."
"What do you want?" Beecher asked him.
Keller sighed. "That's a good question, Beech. What do I want? After your little display at the group meeting yesterday, I felt we needed to have a little chat." He rubbed his hand on Toby's neck. Beecher couldn't help but shiver. To have Chris this close to him, how could he deny that it felt good, felt so right? Toby moaned as Chris then sucked on his neck and placed a hand between the other man's legs, groping his man hood. Beecher gasped, trembling ever so slightly at Chris' expert touch..
"Stop." He managed but even as he breathed the word, he knew he wanted the opposite. He craved to have Keller keep on touching him. This is what he needed.
"O'Reily was seriously pissed off," Keller continued. "Any more outbursts like that and I won't be able to stop him coming after you, Beech." He proceeded to stroke Toby through his clothes, smiling when he felt Beecher react to him, even lean against him.
Offering himself for the taking. .
"What do you want, Beecher?" Chris asked him again.
"You," Toby gasped in response. "Chris..."
"Shh," Keller interrupted him. He knew what Toby needed. If he was honest, he needed Beecher too. And Chris had always taken what he wanted. With one last glance toward the door, Keller quickly pulled down his own pants and then did the same to Toby's. He then lined his hardened member up against Beecher's hole and steadied himself.
"Hold on to the wall, Beecher. This is gonna hurt like fucking hell without lube." He whispered, hesitating for only a second.
"I don't care," Beecher replied hoarsely. "Just do it, Keller. Now."
That was all Keller needed. Taking hold of Toby's thighs, Keller pushed forward, thrusting hard into Beecher. The other man couldn't hold back a shriek and Keller again slammed a hand over his mouth, stifling the cry. "Fucking shut up!" He growled as he maneuvered the others man's body to his liking, to get better access. He then proceeded to push himself into Beecher repeatedly, all those months of longing culminating in that one moment. He took Toby hard and Beecher just stayed there, taking it, reveling in the perfect cocktail of pleasure and pain. He welcomed the agony, knowing he deserved it and very soon, as Keller began to hit that sweet spot inside of him, again and again, the pleasure took over from the pain. Both men were soon sweating and panting, taking what they needed from the other. When Keller could feel he was close, he moved his hand and took a hold of Toby's cock, pumping him vigorously. Toby had his eyes tightly closed and bit his lip, drawing blood, as wave after wave of delirious pleasure swept through him. As he came, he felt Chris quickly following, holding him in a harsh grip as he shot his seed deep into Beecher.
When he was done, Chris leaned forward, exhausted. He kissed Beecher's neck gently and Beecher could feel the emotion creeping up on him. At last, his Chris was there, with him. Things were going to be okay.
Chris must have sensed the change in Toby, the contentment, because he let out a low hiss and abruptly released Beecher, allowing the smaller man to drop to the ground where he stayed, too emotionally spent to hold his own weight.
"Is that what you wanted, Beecher?" Keller snarled, pulling his pants back up as he regarded the still-panting man with disdain. "You've been begging for this for ages. I've seen you, every day. Staring at me, daring me with your eyes. Urging me to pin you down and fuck the life out of you. Well, you happy now?"
"No," Toby whispered, looking up at Keller with watery eyes. He knew he looked and sounded pathetic but couldn't care less. "I'm not even close to happy, Keller. I want you."
"You just had me." Keller shot back.
Toby shook his head. "Don't you fucking get it? I love you, Chris." He forced himself to stand up and he swayed in front of Keller awkwardly, placing both hands on Chris' shoulders for support. "And you love me."
Chris began to smirk cruelly but something made him stop. He looked down at the ground thoughtfully, suddenly taken aback by Toby's heartfelt plea. "I do." He finally agreed, though apparently surprised at his own sudden honesty.
Beecher tightened his grip. "Then come back to me."
"Then what was all this shit about?" Toby urged, desperate. He had to cling on.
"Fucking." Chris spat back. "It was just sex."
Toby flinched at the coldness of his words but still he would not give in. "No." He knew the connection was still there. He had felt it. He just had to make Chris accept it too. "It's more than that."
Chris leaned closer, his tone now low and spiteful. "That's all it ever was between us, Beecher. Sex and pain."
Toby shook his head in disbelief. "That's not true and you know it."
Chris shrugged and shoved out at Beecher, forcing Toby out of his way. His route to the exit was now clear. "Who gives a shit anyway?"
"I do. I care. And so do you."
"Don't." The retort was childish and cold and Beecher knew he was not going to win this round but for Fuck's sake, what did he have to lose? As Chris began to walk away, Toby grabbed his arm.
"Wait." He pleaded. "Chris, just listen to me."
Chris jerked his hand away. "Don't touch me!" He snarled, his finger now up in Toby's face. "Listen, we both needed something from the other here and we took it. That's all it was, you hear me?"
"You deaf now then as well as fucking stupid?"
"You need me, Keller. Admit it."
Chris laughed. "Yes, I need you Beecher. Like a fucking hole in the head." He chuckled. "No, I'll be honest; I did need you, just like in here, just then. I needed sex and so did you. End of story."
Toby shook his head uselessly, desperately trying just one more time. "Chris," he pleaded, unable to prevent one lone tear leaking down his face. "Forgive me."
Chris paused. He frowned and hesitated with his reply, momentarily unsure what to say. Beecher, waiting, almost sensing the battle raging within Keller. Finally, Chris turned and fixated Toby with an intense stare. "I can't." He replied, softly. "I just can't." Toby saw the flash of regret on that face and he felt a spark of hope.
But if there was a moment of doubt, it was over far too quickly. Toby wasn't sure if he had imagined it. Any sign of feelings or emotion were gone as Chris leaned closer until he was almost touching Toby, his lips curled into a nasty, arrogant smirk.
"See ya, Beech. Oh and remember, O'Reily wants you to keep your fucking mouth shut!" His eyes narrowed. "And so do I."
With that one last parting shot, he turned and this time took his leave of Beecher, fading back into the darkness as quietly as he had appeared. He left Toby there, aching and now more dazed and confused than ever.
What had just happened?
He closed his eyes. Nothing. Nothing had happened. And not a thing had changed. He was still standing there in that tiny room, packets of discarded paper surrounding him on the floor. If the hacks could see the mess, there would be trouble. He'd have to stay and tidy it all. Perfect.
Sister Pete would be very unimpressed.
Toby sighed as he pulled up his own pants, flinching from the pain. He knew he was beaten. Keller had won again. Beecher could only stand there despairing. He was lost, scared and hopeless.
Alone in the dark.