A/N. So, the Breakout Kings fanbase is very... well... teeny tiny. It was cancelled after two seasons, after all, so its not like people were rallying for this show.
But here's the thing. I spent four days straight doing nothing but exercise and watch that show on Netflix. And I thought since the show had started tanking during the first season that the writers would have the decency to have a nice season 2 wrap-up, just in case. I've seen it happen before, after all.
But no. The finale of season 2 made sure that my life would never be complete. Ever. The biggest fucking cliffhanger ever...
*sighs* That's not the point.
I have to finish the Kings' story. It's a calling.
CHARACTERS NOTE: I like Julianne very much, but for an agoraphobic with anxiety, she's very calm... I'm going to blame that on bad acting. As someone who was once agoraphobic and has anxiety, I would never leave my Safe Zone so calmly - and that goes for everyone I know from my support groups. Yes, she's a strong girl, but anxiety is crippling, so I'm sorry if I write Julianne a little bit more... nervous than she looked on the TV show.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Breakout Kings. But I kind of wished I owned Lloyd. This is fan-made. I have no association with A&E or the creators.
SPOILER ALERT: If you haven't finished Season 2, this involves a lot of spoilers. Also, if you've never seen the show, I highly doubt this will make any sense.
...~oOo~...
Season 3: Episode 1
'New Management'
Part 1:
Doctor... I'm sorry... Former Doctor Lloyd Lowery was the exact definition of distressed. The dictionary entry ran through his head, the words 'anxiety, sorrow, or pain' clearly highlighted and underlined.
He had survived the week from hell. A week so awful that when they locked him back up in Maybelle, he was actually relieved. It was a lot like Julianne's Safe Zone. He was okay there. It wasn't Sing Sing and it wasn't... out there. New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts - he wasn't anywhere. And his cellmate wasn't awful, apart from the whole toilet wine situation that didn't seem to be solving itself, but how awful was that?
Lloyd was relieved to be back in prison. How the mighty have fallen.
And his incredibly large, brilliant brain was a hot mess.
It was his third day back in and he still couldn't make sense of much. It didn't help that none of the Animals knew what was happening on the Outside with the Ray dilemma. None of the Animals were speaking. Julianne visited none of them, wrote no one letters, and Ray was God Knows Where.
Lloyd fell back against his cot and closed his eyes, mentally looking back at the body language, the facial expressions that Shea and Erica wore while Chief Inspector Wendell offered them freedom as a reward for rolling on Ray.
Lloyd could practically see Erica's daughter in the reflection of her baby blue eyes. And in Shea's he saw more than just his girlfriend - the whole life he had before. Shea could live like a king, a real one, not their little renegade pack of desperate deal-makers.
If Lloyd was going off their faces and bodies in that moment, just before they were split up and talked to one on one, he'd predict - well, diagnose - that both Erica and Shea would give up whatever information that Wendell wanted. They'd give him Ray on a silver platter.
Alas, Lloyd knew them better. Which wasn't exactly a good thing. He knew their loyalty, their dedication, but he also knew their penchant for picking sides, making deals, and submission.
Neither would admit it - Erica and Shea weren't what you'd call 'submissive' people, but prison breaks you down. It steals most of you, leaving behind a sort of shadow, a shadow who would do anything to go back to the infamously craved Before. Before his gambling debts, Before that girl overdosed, Before accepting 25 years for a manslaughter charge. Before he was a witness at Damien's trial.
He was about to relive Damien's fall from their building in his mind. See the panic on his face as he plummeted, and the vindictive, remorseless look on Ray's. And examine his own lacking of regret.
But then his cell door was opened.
'Work van is here for you, Lowery,' the guard said with the ever-blank expression on his face.
Lloyd sat up slowly, confused. He was never confused. 'I wasn't told the van was coming today,' Lloyd said slowly.
'It's here anyway,' the guard said gruffly, obviously not knowing anymore than he did. 'Now, get up. Driver says it's not leaving without you.'
Lloyd sighed. He'd learned already that no matter what he was going to end up back in the Breakout Kings. When he'd originally quit, he'd sworn that hell and high water wouldn't bring him back. As it found out, this vow did not include his mother.
Damn Ray.
Lloyd took his sweet time being escorted out of Maybelle. He wanted to stall today for as long as possible.
...~oOo~...
'Here they come... They come by van, sir...I'm sorry, sir. It wasn't in my power, sir.' Julianne cradled the phone to her head with her shoulder while she went through the drawers of her desk fervently. Whatever she was looking for was apparently important.
The large elevator door of their office slid open in that loud way it had and Erica led them in. The van ride over was heavy with silence. No one said a word. Lloyd made no soul brother jokes, Shea said nothing about racism, and Erica didn't make any death threats.
But Erica looked nervous. Shea had no real expression, but jiggled his knee, his arms crossed. Lloyd stared out the window. He used to bounce like a puppy going on a car ride, but freedom and fear went hand in hand now.
Julianne hung up the phone and continued going through her very neatly organized desk that was slowly becoming a war zone.
'Your folders are on your desks,' Julianne said without looking up at them during her search. 'Runner's name is Martin Harris. He was doing twenty years in Fishkill Correctional.'
'Why does it feel like we've been there before?' Shea asked.
'Because we have. Tillman escaped from Fishkill,' Lloyd reported, opening the folder and going straight to the psych report. It was mostly bare.
'Tillman?' Erica asked, her sharp brows furrowing. 'I don't remember a Tillman.'
'It was our first case,' Shea said. 'When Philly was with us.'
'Ah, Philly,' Lloyd said dryly, with mock longing - not looking up. No one was making eye contact today. 'A narcissist with daddy issues. My favorite kind of narcissist. I miss her.'
'Medium security,' Erica said, looking at the report. 'Escape... unknown?' She looked up towards Julianne. 'What's that supposed to mean?'
'It says he was missing during final count of the day,' Shea said. 'And he was nowhere in Fishkill when they searched. He just... disappeared. Like a ghost.'
There was a long silence while they all flipped through documents.
'May I, please, address the proverbial elephant in the room,' Lloyd said, unable to stop himself. 'More specifically why we're here and where Ray is.'
The frenzied Julianne sighed heavily and looked up from whatever she was doing. 'You're here because Ray is still being investigated and until he goes to trial, we have no clue how much longer we'll still be here. But there's a runner and they need us, so we're getting a temporary official to watch you guys.'
'You're kidding!' Erica said heatedly. 'A new guy?'
'It's not permanent,' Julianne said reassuringly. 'And Ray told me to tell you to behave, Erica. He knows how you get about strangers.'
Erica was frowning deeply, in that way that only Erica could.
'Where is this 'new guy'?' Shea said cynically, looking around, stretching his neck to see into the coffee room. He probably though the Marshal was listening in.
'He's not here yet,' Julianne said with a small huff. 'I was just on the phone with him. He planned on being here before you guys, but you all arrived faster than I thought, so now he's stuck in traffic and pretty upset with me already.' Julianne was worrying her lip.
'How long before he gets here?' Lloyd asked, standing up slowly, tucking his hands into the pockets of his prison blues.
Julianne shrugged. 'I don't know. He said it was pretty backed up.'
'Good,' Lloyd said, 'because we all need to talk.' He stood by the board where Martin Harris's picture hung. He faced all of them with slow, calculating eyes. 'We all know the situation with Ray makes no sense.'
Erica, Ray, and Julianne all looked rapidly between them.
'Since I know that I didn't sell Ray out,' Lloyd said pointedly, 'one of you must have said something.'
'We're still locked up, aren't we?' Shea said, as if it was obvious. 'All of us stayed quiet.'
'But Ray is in holding, which means they have evidence,' Erica said, 'and none of us are free. They have to know the stories didn't line up somehow - and we were the only witnesses.'
Lloyd took a deep breath and went on, 'I know that none of you intentionally tipped the Marshals off. Erica, while staring down a tunnel with her daughter at the end of it, owes a lot to Ray and that loyalty was strengthened by Charlie's death. And she's traded motherhood for prison before, so if I'm right, she didn't say a thing when Wendell was interrogating her. Probably just stared him down with that death look. Yes, Erica, that's exactly the one, very good.
'And Julianne wasn't a direct witness but they questioned her anyway, during which she probably lied, while stuttering, but gave away nothing of consequence.
'Which leaves us Mr. Seamus Daniels,' Lloyd said, ignoring Shea's eye roll. 'Our wild card. We've all seen him stare at unoccupied cars and sneak out to see his girlfriend. Out of all of us, he's thought of escaping the most, and is the most eager for freedom.' Lloyd stared at Shea. 'So, Shea... you say anything to the cops?'
Everyone turned to Shea then.
'What?' Shea asked, his voice hitching an octave. Indignant. 'Why are y'all looking at me?'
'Lloyd makes a good point,' Erica said, her eyes piercing him.
Shea huffed, rolling his eyes. 'It could just as well been Lloyd. He's the one who's said he needs to take care of his mother.'
'I love my mother, but I also hate her,' Lloyd said. 'Not worth ratting out a friend.'
'I didn't say nothin'!' Shea said, his voice getting louder.
'That was a double negative,' Lloyd pointed out. 'And you're also acting very defensive. Anything to confess?'
Shea tossed his hands in the arm, his jaw taut. 'I'm not defensive - I'm pissed that of all people, you think I said something. I'm still wearing these blues brother.' He plucked at his uniform pointedly. 'If I rolled on Ray, I'd be out with my girl right now and not stuck in here with your ugly mug.'
'I'm not saying to told the cops everything,' Lloyd said. 'I'm saying you told them something. Enough to hold Ray at least.'
Shea stood up, shoulders back, his expression stormy. 'Call me a rat again, Lowery, I swear -'
Julianne sighed. 'Alright, alright!' she said, holding up her hands. 'Everyone stop. I wasn't supposed to tell you this, but none of you said anything.'
Lloyd blinked. 'We didn't?'
'Told you,' Shea huffed.
'And neither did I,' Julianne went on. 'They have other evidence. But I have no clue what it is.' She sighed again. Today where was a lot of sighing happening. 'I'm trying to find that out, but until then... Marshal Hall will be here any minute. Read up on Martin, please. He could be the deciding factor of what happens to the Kings if Ray's trial... goes south.' Without another word, she turned on her heels and scurried back to her desk.
Shea still looked pissed off, but he opened the folder anyway and started reading.
'I'll put some coffee on,' Erica said, heading towards their coffee room.
'I guess I'll change first,' Lloyd said quietly, heading towards the bathroom.
Lloyd was making notes in the folder and Erica was staring down at the tattoo on her wrist blankly. Shea was changing and Julianne had apparently given up on whatever she was looking for and was on the phone, covering her mouth and whispering.
It was all quiet until the elevator door was thrown open quiet boisterously and loud footfalls echoed in all their ears. They all watched as an older man walked in, his salt and pepper hair in a strict military cut. He wore a suit, his shiny badge clipped to his belt on the opposite side of his holster. He didn't so much walk as march. He had to be in his mid fifties.
'So...' he said, his voice deep and gravelly. 'These are the animals?'
Erica rolled her eyes in her head. They were never going to escape that label 'animals'. First Ray, and Charlie was guilty of it too, but now this bastard.
'Uh, yes, sir,' Julianne said, quickly rising to her feet and walking towards him.
'And you're Simms, the academy drop-out?' he clarified.
Lloyd's hand instinctively tightened around his pen, his jaw clenching.
Julianne visibly swallowed. 'Yes, sir.'
'Well,' was all he said in response to that. His eyes, edged with deep crows feet, narrowed suspiciously as he marched further into the office and examined the cons. 'Where's the third?'
'Shea is changing into his civilian clothes,' Julianne answered readily. 'He'll be out in a moment.'
Marshal Hall snorted derisively. 'Cons in civies. My first lieutenant would have had a hemorrhage if this was happening in my day. If I'd headed this task force from the beginning, I guarantee you'd all be wearing exactly what you deserve. Blues and numbers.'
Erica was already sporting her favorite glare, her full, bowed lips pursed and her eyes narrowed ever so. Her right thumb was stroking her tallymarks, as if imagining how to get away with killing Hall.
Morale was already low, and then this hardass walked in. Lloyd was control himself, but Erica and Shea... They had tempers on them. Erica, as proven when Ray's bounty hunter friend was floating about, was not afraid to get physical despite the threat to go back to Sing Sing.
It was that second that Shea strolled into the room, zipping his hoodie. When he looked up, he saw Hall, and the first words out of his mouth were, 'Who's this clown?'
Julianne closed her eyes, wincing silently. Lloyd could have smacked himself in the forehead. Erica smirked slightly.
Hall was glaring darkly.
Then realization dawned on Shea's face. 'Oh. You must be Hall.'
'Indeed,' Hall said sharply. 'You'll be careful about how you address me, Daniels.'
Shea didn't say anything, just returned to his chair.
'Alright... Kings.' Hall said their force name with derision and obvious disgust. 'Martin Harris. Impress me.' He stood back, stood at ease and waited for them to start talking.
This was wrong. Everyone was lost. But, as always, they could count on Lloyd to start running his mouth.
'Martin Harris,' Lloyd said, standing up awkwardly. 'Thirty-one year old caucasian. He was doing a twenty year sentence in Fishkill for manslaughter.' He swallowed. 'No one's sure how he escaped exactly. He was a model prisoner since he was put in abut six years ago. He applied for three times, but all pleas were denied.'
'He killed a nine year old girl in Queens?' Shea asked.
Julianne nodded. 'Maria Perez. Hit her with a truck. He said he didn't see her run into the road, and there was some speculation with how long his shifts were with Carter National Trucking. But everything came out clean. Martin panicked and kept driving.'
Erica winced. 'Bastard.'
Lloyd examined the picture of Martin. In his mug shot, his eyes were glassy and he looked terrified of the camera. He was skinny with brown hair, a long nose, and glasses.
'How's his head, Doc?' Shea asked, raising an eyebrow.
'Normal,' Lloyd said, shaking his head and rubbing the side of his jaw absently. 'Absolutely average. Average IQ. Average emotional patterns. He fits the type of every poor idiot who's ever made a stupid mistake. But then again, I've never met him and prison psychiatrists are notoriously lazy.'
'That doesn't give us much to go on,' Hall said speculatively. 'Do you normally just spout everything the report says? What do you do on this team?'
Everyone watched as Lloyd slowly turned, his lips and pressed and eyes wide.
Julianne couldn't believe it herself. Marshal Hall read how brilliant Lloyd was. He knew. What was he saying?
'Well,' Lloyd said, his voice strangely even. 'If I'm so useless... send me back to Maybelle for this case. This isn't a psychopath, just a desperate man. I'll gladly hand over the notes I've made, if you don't need me.'
No one was prepared for that.
'Lloyd,' Shea said under his breath. 'What are you doing?'
'Just... presenting Marshal Hall with his options,' Lloyd said, unaffected. 'Send me back. Keep me. Doesn't make a difference to me. I'd rather be there than here anyway.'
Behind Hall, Julianne was shaking her head fervently at Lloyd, her brown eyes wide. Lloyd ignored her completely.
After a long contemplation, during which Hall glowered, Hall said, 'You're staying, Lowery, whether you like it or not.'
That's what I thought, Lloyd thought smugly. He turned back to the board with an inner smirk at his victory.
Erica cleared her throat. 'It says his mother visited him whenever she got the chance.'
Lloyd said, 'Poor guy.'
'We should start there,' Erica offered, slipping on her sweatshirt. 'See if he gave anything away during her last visit. Julianne, you should dig around his family tree a little bit.'
Julianne nodded and went back to her desk, her flats making a scuffing noise as she went.
Hall remained silent as the convicts began putting on their jumpers and putting their cell phones in their pockets.
'Make haste,' Hall said, heading to the door.
'After his mother, we should probably go back to Fishkill to ask the inmates where they last saw Harris,' Shea pointed out.
'We could... split up,' Erica said slowly, testing the waters with Hall while simultaneously challenging him.
'You expect me to let loose a couple of convicts?' Hall snapped.
'We've been doing it for months,' Shea said, his voice hard. 'It's how things get done.'
Hall made a snap decision, his voice curt. 'I won't be letting you out without an escort. Simms, are you carrying?'
'Yes, sir,' Julianne said, nervously.
'You take Lowery and Daniels to Fishkill. Miss Reed and I can handle one woman,' Hall said, entering the elevator and gesturing Julianne over impatiently.
Julianne's eyes shifted between herself, her desk, and the door anxiously. She couldn't possibly refuse her new commanding officer. But then she remembered Lloyd would be with her and even though they hadn't said two words to each other since he watched a girl be killed and almost killed a circus performer, that still drew some comfort.
Because she knew Lloyd would never hate her. She knew he carried a torch. And using that for psychiatric help was selfish, but she firmly believed she would learn how to help him as much as he's helped her.
Throwing on her scarf and snatching her denim jacket, she was jogging the elevator to leave with the rest of them. As the elevator descended, she looked over at Lloyd, but he never looked back.
...~oOo~...
A/N2. Oh, Lloyd King of Angst. This episode will be told mostly from his point of view, I think. Other episodes will be seen through Erica's eyes, and Shea's, and sometimes Julianne's.