Will Solace first laid eyes upon him as the was being dragged through the office reception. He put up a resilient fight, which was surprisingly not very common of the convicted that were entered through those doors. Even though he was cuffed and restricted by his hands, two of Will's colleagues clenching each of his arms, he was still resistant. The mans clothes were drenched, and were clinging uncomfortably to his frame. Inky strands of dripping hair concealed his eyes, only hinting at the red tinted, pale skin. He must be freezing, Will thought before shaking the words out of his head, he's also a criminal, he reminded himself, getting back to continuing the paper work he was previously doing.

"I didn't do shit!" He yelled amidst the struggle, all eyes of the team were on him, a few got on their feet to help keep the man still as he was proving he could even dominate the two men while cuffed. Will couldn't help but be impressed, but the stronger, the more dangerous, he remembered Chief instructing.

Eventually, the man was taken away to what was most likely interrogation, sparking a morbid curiosity of what the pale skinned man could've done. After all, he didn't apply to sit around and do paper work, he became a cop to solve cases and serve justice. He wanted to at least to be respected as a colleague in this damn prison rather than just a newbie.

Maybe one day, Will sighed, leaning against his chair exasperated.

~

The next day, Will had apparently woken up on the good side of the bed. He got up with a full nights rest and his coffee brewed better than usually. There was this buoyancy in his step as he walked to work, even at 6 in the morning when the birds were barely even chirping. There was this subtle smile spread across his freckled face that didn't even fade when he entered the station, to see the stacks of paper and that god forsaken chair waiting to put the man through his occupational misery.

In fact, he managed to go through a few minor case files within the first two hours, taking notes, making copies and slipping them into addressed envelopes. It was all going so well until there was a slam of stacked paper inconsiderately crumpling his previous case study. Will only gave himself a moment to study the mugshot in front of him, illustrating a man with harsh pale cheeks and longish raven hair.

He looked over his shoulder to see Luke Castellan with crossed arms behind him. Will hated this guy, but he was the one who signed his pay checks so he registered him with a, "Chief?"

"Do you recognise him?" He asked but might as well demanded, moving from behind Will's chair to in front of his desk to face him. His expression, like always, was unreadable yet had a natural sinister sort of edge. Maybe it was the way his eyes always seemed to be narrow, maybe it was the 3cm pale scar that was carved right besides his left eye reaching down to his cheek.

Will took yet another glance at the photo placed in front of him, "It's that guy? The one that was dragged in here yesterday?" He answered, around about 95% confident that he was right. Yes, this matched the dark hair and juxtaposing skin, yet he had never got an opportunity to see the eyes of the criminal, portrayed in the photograph black and empty.

"Niccolo Di Angelo," Luke provided, his hand moving to flip the photo to reveal a seemingly vague fact file, "26, Italian, lives alone. Also our most suspected convicted for the death of Jason Grace. Hell, we know he's guilty, we just need his confession."

Blonde eyebrows knitted together, "Jason Grace? His murder was years ago, how did we only just find him?" Will picked up the photo, peering a further more observant glance, this person didn't quite so look like a murderer, but then he wouldn't dare voice that aloud. Murderers come in all shapes and sizes, Solace. From a disabled, old lady to an 11 year old school boy. Don't be so naive.

"An anonymous tip lead us straight to him. The traces found on the scene were undetected. This sicko ran off to Italy as soon as it was done. He was pretty stupid to come back to America, but now we've got him and finally the media can shut up about it."

Long before Will was working here, the rumours of the untimely and unfortunate death of Jason Grace had been circulating these streets for months. They've died down now yes, but now the station was discredited, practically seen giving up on the case and moving on, the murderer still potentially roaming the streets alongside hundreds of innocents. This was the type of crime Will wanted to investigate, he to play his part in the vengeance of Jason Grace, yet here he was stacking papers.

And as it turns out, you should be careful what you wish for.

"So congratulations, Solace. You're being promoted - more or less. Due to complications, Officer Tanaka will be off for the following few months. The shortage of staff means that there would be no checks made on Row 6f, which happens to be the cell Di Angelo is rotting in, I need you to go fill in for her."

"But—"

"Failure to do so will lose you your job, Solace." the Chief threatened, "Your shifts start tomorrow, don't make me regret hiring you." Luke tossed down an envelope before making his way to his own private office. Looking at the envelope addressed to his own name, he groaned and hit his head upon the fake wooden table in a painful thud.

~

"Proof of identity and occupation," the lady at the desk said. She looked like she was somewhere in her 30's, wondering where her life had gone all wrong. She spoke with a naturally sassy edge, not the comical type yet the sort that kinda showed that someone was super unbothered.

Will looked past it, slipping his ID and badge underneath the glass that really looked like it needed cleaning. The women huffed as she grabbed it, not even providing the slightest of thanks. Dull eyes swept between the identification and Will's own face, giving a satisfied hmmph, she lazily held down a grey button.

"Yeah I've got Will Solace here, sent by Chief to fill in for Row 6f." The static rumbled for a while, until a voice picked up on the other end, claiming they'd be right over.

Will had trained to work in prisons before as part of his course, yet he never envisioned himself as a correction officer. It wasn't ideally his dream job, standing there for a few hours, fetching food and escorting prisoners so they could use facilities. But an unfortunate series of events (fate, destiny?) lead Will to this very spot and he can't help but wallow a little bit in self pity.

He got swept away by a dark-skinned man who's name tag read 'Montes' that lay proudly against various other badges scattered across his brown uniform.

"You're guarding an empty row, all besides that murderer," the man said with a surprisingly strong Portuguese accent Will had not prepared himself for. Montes unlocked a pair of double doors with a swipe of a card, "You've got the chip in yours too, just swipe to unlock." Will knew that, it was common sense, but his still nodded and thanked politely.

Will was further lead down a row of empty cells, each one just hosting a bed, chair and desk (and he didn't think it could get worse than his spine breaking office chair, but it had).

"Di Angelo," The cop called out mockingly, using his baton to cling against the echoing, metal bars, "You've got company."

Will didn't even notice the cell was occupied, surprising since his orange jumpsuit should've drawn a fair amount of peripheral attention. The criminal was sat on his chair, faced in the opposing direction of the two officers, seeming to look intrigued by the naked brick of the walls.

"Yeah, he's a fun one," Montes said, slapping Will on the shoulder in a friendly gesture, "Good luck." He chuckled as he left the row, exiting through the double doors to go serve to his own duties, while Will was stuck standing literally a few feet away from a murderer.

Will dragged up a chair from a desolate corner, allowing himself to perch in it. Nico Di Angelo still made no movement from his prior position, the blonde shrugging it off as a strange, psycho Hannibal Lecter sort of habit. Reaching past his belt, he produced the same envelope from his pocket from yesterday, slipping the contents out to have a more throughout read of his timetable.

He was told to say situated until certain hours struck the clock. Every morning, 6:55am was shower time, 5 minutes before he would get kicked out. 7:10 breakfast, to be served secluded and not the refectory where the other inmates were to eat. Scheduled for the rest of Will's shift hours, was one more meal, other than that he was to sit there, keep an eye on Nico Di Angelo, and meet requests for bathroom usage.

It's unnecessary to have cops patrolling for such long hours for a single criminal, Will thought. Those bars were there for a reason right? He's in a jail cell so he can't escape, having a guard 24hours, 7 days a week seemed like a waste of men, time and resource.

He spared a glance to the subject, taken aback to see the man looking straight back at him, searingly intent through narrowed eyes, as if reading the very contents of Will's soul. The photo Will initially saw was not detailed enough to capture the essence behind the prisoners alluring, brown eyes. Bottomless, nearing black, a never ending abyss. Yet then Will recognised that messed, inky hair, this time kept fully dry rather than dripping with precipitation. His skin though, was still as pale as prior, only the red tint from the bitter cold was no longer present, now drawing attention to sharply cut facial structures rather than a discolouration.

"I didn't kill him," Will was surprised to hear him say. Sounding so sincere it made goosebumps rise on his arms, and it was pathetic. Taking the word of a convicted, he could imagine how much Chief would laugh at him if he even voiced his thought. Yet that tone Nico had used, a imbalanced blend of reverence, pleading, and pure honesty. Either that or 100% manipulation, his thoughts provided. He shot Nico a what he hoped was poker faced expression, pursing his lips before ducking his head.

~

Get up, go to work, come home, eat, sleep, get up, go to work, come home, eat, sleep...

It felt like an endless cycle, a hacked never ending vinyl that would play Will's least favourite songs in a continuous loop. It's been a week, he still had his forced post at the prison, Will was not satisfied with his life.

His relationship with Nico Di Angelo was barely even one. Upon arrival, after showers, before meals, Will would always be told those thought provoking words. I didn't kill him he'd say, Will finding himself having to tread carefully to not fall into his manipulating trap.

"And why should I believe you?" He replies one day, the question coming from no where. Nico's head snapped up at the response, eyes wide, shocked, optimistic on being rewarded something other than the heavy silence.

"Because it's the truth, I didn't kill Jason Grace. He was my friend," Nico replied steadily, "I don't know who did, but it wasn't me."

Will couldn't help chuckle to himself, he didn't intend it to sound condescending even though that's how it came across. "All the evidence points against you, something tells me I can't trust you."

Will made the mistake of meeting his eyes. A void of emotion, sparkling in artificial light. "Please just believe me," he edged closer, gripping the bars, making his knuckles turn white, "My own fucking sister thinks I'm a murderer."

The blonde did his best to ignore him, to fight of the words that attempted to penetrate through his mentally built up defences.

"Why would I be trying so hard to convince you? You and I both know you can't change anything either way. I'm stuck here until I die, but I want to at least go knowing that someone thinks I'm not a disgrace."

Looking at the convicted, he didn't look comfortable in the vulnerability of the moment. Will thought he looked like the type that would bottle up their emotions, uncaring to what other people perceive him as.

If Nico was telling the truth, Will was wrong.

~

"I want nothing more than to watch him die. He took away the one person I most care about in my life. It's been months, and I can't believe that you, Nico, was the one that killed him. He trusted you like a brother you know, I hope you realise that. I trusted you like a brother. We did everything we could for you, Nico, we cared for you so much. But now, I'll see no pain and only retribution to see you die on that gurney, to know you go back to hell where you belong. Thank you, your Honour."

The whole court room went silent, not even the jury were exchanging the slightest of movement, as if they'd made their mind up long ago. Will stood of besides the door, watching as the girl with kaleidoscope eyes returned to her seat besides the prosecutor. Her testimony was hardly professional, barely even sensible for a trial, yet her words were soaked deep with so much emotion, you couldn't help but follow her will.

Nico's jaw was clenched, he was almost shaking, Will could see it. He looked down at the oak table, not meeting the eyes of anyone in the room, though everyone's eyes were on the 'defendant'.

"Closing testimony, any words for the defendants side?" Asked the judge, who's old, crinkled lines represented wisdom and respect.

"No," Nico said, not looking up. Will had no connections to this man whatsoever, but he felt his heart drop and swallowed the bottle emotion. Will knew he didn't do it, and he wasn't more certain about anything in his life. Yet he couldn't muster the anger he should of felt for that tragic Italian, he knew that he had no hope.

"Very well," the judge answered, "Then under the grounds of first degree murder, the jury have decided to have you executed. On the 29th of January, you'll be put to death via lethal injection." He hit his hammer to silence the satisfied murmurs of the audience, "Clear the court."

Will followed procedure, he stalked Nico and tried to look as monotone as possible, regretfully handcuffed him and escorted him back to his own dusty cell.

~

There he sat, on the same desolate chair across the same occupied cell. Nico was practically unreadable, but that didn't stop Will from searching his expression for any humane sign. No trace of fear nor self pity, just a deep, brown gaze focused on the wall behind the cop.

"I believe you, you know," Will found himself saying before he could stop it. His conscience finally breaking through the restrictiveness of his sealed lips.

The officer caught the tiny, ghost of a smile on his prior guarded face, such a subtle shift though it felt like the all the science of the universe had changed instead. "Thanks," Nico replied, now looking down at his orange sleeves, "Seriously. It means a lot."

Will didn't know how to respond to that. How would anyone respond to that? The man across him was on death row for something he didn't do. Not a single person believes that he's innocent. Literally the whole world was against him. Looking at Nico made Will's heartstring tug painfully, he doesn't deserve any of it.

"I hope you know, Nico. That if I had any power, I would do all I could to free you," he said, brown irises met blue with a melancholy intensity.

"I know."

~

Will treated himself to some ramen when he arrived home. Impatiently waiting for the water to boil before tossing in the processed noodles and the crappy flavour patch. Sighing as his dinner dilated.

It wasn't much, but Will was so appreciative of the meal for some reason. He took his steaming bowl and flopped down on the sofa, flicking through his Netflix for something interesting to watch. His gut knotted as he by passed Prison Break, suddenly losing all appetite. He set his bowl to the side, leaning down to thread his hand through his sandy, blonde hair. How could he enjoy the simplest luxuries in life, while Nico Di Angelo laid rotting in a jail cell and sentenced to death for something he didn't even do.

He hardly slept that night, instead staring at his ceiling as if it would miraculously shed his guilt and save Nico Di Angelo's life.

~

"You look like shit today," Nico claimed as Will entered his usual post at 6:45, "And that's coming from a guy in prison." Taken aback by the prisoners uncharacteristic forwardness, he shot a weird, cautious look towards the convicted.

"You don't look bad for a guy who's in prison," Stupid, stupid. Will swore that he was responding a sarcastic 'gee, thanks' and somehow, those words came from out of the blue. But it wasn't as if those words were untrue, over the few weeks he'd been imprisoned he managed to retain the ironic angelicness of his features. Sure, his hair had grown out messily and he looked slightly silken due to the terrible diet, he was still so...

Beautiful.

No.

Yes.

This was bad. Really, really bad. And god Will knew it, he couldn't simply just fall for a prisoner, let alone someone on death row. Even after weeks of being so distant, Will still didn't know how this man had managed to pin him down. It was painfully impossible, the blonde knew that, know he'd just have to suffer the consequences of letting his fucking guard down.

"Well then you don't look bad for a guy who's severely sleep deprived," Nico grinned, fucking grinned, Will's mind was going into overdrive, "Why is that?"

"I, uh— I've just not been getting much sleep lately," Will replied, deciding to leave out the staying up till morning thinking about you.

The blonde found it so strange to just watch the prisoner roll his eyes so casually after everything he'd been through, "I know that you haven't been getting sleep," he chuckled, which caused foreign, fluttering sensations in his stomach, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

"Just general insomnia I guess," the cop lied. Nico simply nodded in response, thankful that he didn't push will further.

Will did a quick glance at the clock as it was edging closer to 6:55. The Italian understood, following Will's glance. He edged closer to the locked cell gate, the blonde shuffling through keys, finding the correct one to unlock it.

By procedure, Nico turned around with his arms behind his back. Will stared mournfully at the exposed wrists, eyeing the slight red ring around the pale skin without a doubt from the tightness of his cuffs.

"If your cuffs were too tight, you could've said so," The blonde said, fitting the handcuffs looser than what was deemed to be safe.

Nico's shoulders shrug, his baggy jumpsuit almost concealing the action altogether, "I wouldn't want any VIP treatment, I am a prisoner aren't I?"

"Yes, but you're innocent."

When Nico turned to face him, Will found it absurd to see him smiling up at him. A genuine, kind smile which looked so foreign yet fitted so well. Two jigsaw pieces that unexpectedly slotted perfectly together.

He was fast falling, deeper and deeper by the seconds, into the abyss of Nico's bottomless eyes. It was trance inducing, yet so incredibly refreshing at the same time. When he blinked, Will snapped out of it, stepping back from the suddenly close proximity between the two.

He escorted him towards the showers like they always did, then left him to cleanse while Will waited on guard outside. The pattern of water was silenced, a few minutes passing by before Nico showed up where Will stood, smiling boyishly before facing his back towards the cop in which he promptly cuffed the man once more.

Peering through the empty cells of Row 6f reminded Will how got into this mess in the first place. How his fucking boss sent him to stand guard while another officer was probably enjoying a holiday. How Nico was coincidentally the only inhabitant that he would have to watch. How the Italian would claim he didn't murder Jason Grace. That moment when he actually believe him, simply moments before he was sentenced to his untimely death. How he got screwed up in such a screw up story.

And honestly, he was glad. He wouldn't wish anyone to suffer like that, alone, thinking the whole world was against you. Especially not the intriguing man before him, who's features looked increasingly enticing the more you stare.

Will couldn't help but stare. The sharp cheekbones that stood harshly against pale skin. The inky, raven strands that fell long enough to almost cover his alluringly brown eyes. The thin naturally red tinted lips, that were so tempting to just...

Will couldn't help but to fall into temptation, all his morals and duties slipping through some metaphorical trap door as his lips met Nico's cool ones. They were slightly moist, from the shower Will assumed, tilting his head slightly for a better angle. His act was impulsive, he didn't think far enough to get to the part to how Nico would, yet found himself pleasantly shocked when Nico's mouth moved against his. The kiss was short, yet filled with more passion than all of Will's past endeavours combined. He was the first to part the kiss, leaning his forehead against the wet, black hair that covered Nico's.

"I promise, you're not going to die on that gurney, Nico Di Angelo."

~
28th January

The elephant in the room was instead a thick, choking fog of ignorance as the Will sat his shift once more. He was literally on the edge of crying, tears threatening to spill from ducts as he stared at the resting Nico Di Angelo.

He tried everything he could, and even that was limited. There was only certain things he could do still he fought fruitlessly against Nico's sentence. The jury were professional in denial, civilians wanted nothing more than the murderer to vanish, Will has even tried to explain to Piper who slammed the door in his face and Luke fucking laughed at him.

Will failed him, he was going to die tomorrow. The life will leave his body, his pulse will deteriorate, he'll never, ever, see Nico again. If there was a god, Will threw every curse he could muster up at him. He had created one hell of a cruel, bitter, unjust world.

When Will was alerted to forward Nico's last meal request, he nodded tightly before hurrying off. Finding himself in the men's room with tears streaming down his face. There was no way this was actually going to happen, they couldn't.

Nico eventually awoke from his slumber, and the fog thickened by a tenfold. Tomorrow, Will wouldn't see Nico here as he'd grown so used to doing. The thought was still so surreal, he won't be alive tomorrow. Yet he didn't say anything, providing a watery smile instead.

"The date?"

"28th January," Will responded robotically. Nico broken chuckled sounded for a second, "What is funny?" The blonde question, barely able to keep his voice from cracking.

"It's just ironic. I'm dying the day after I was born."

"It's your birthday today?"

"Yeah," Nico smiling sadly, "Today is my first and last full day of being 27 years of age."

"You don't deserve any of this," Will let a rogue tear fall, Nico's gaze followed its path down his freckled cheek, causing the Italian to frown.

"Maybe," he began, "But I'm not afraid of death, Will. I've been flirting with it most of my life. I know it's not the best way to go, but I just think that's the Fate's way of saying it's time."

The ephemeral beauty of that perspective just intrigued Will more. He treasured Nico and his view and acceptance, more now than he had ever.

"They want your last meal request."

Nico smiled, "A Happy Meal."

~

It was exactly six o'clock when Nico's final meal arrived in a warm, paper bag, the iconic yellow logo printed across it. Will grabbed it from Paolo (who he now knew the name of) and peered into the contents just to make sure they got the order correct. When he was satisfied they had, Will closed the bag, walking down 6f to Nico's designated cell.

He passed him the paper bag through the bars, arms involuntarily shaking. Nico gave a thanks before he examining the package like he had just won the lottery, it made his heart ache. Moments later, crinkling filled the silent air as Nico revealed the contents to himself, his eyes widening, watering.

"Will..." was all he said, before pulling the barren piece of chocolate cake out of the bag. Nico looked awestruck as he blinked furiously to fight back tears. "Will, you don't know what this means to me."

"Happy Birthday, Nico," Will congratulates sadly.

"Happy Birthday, me," he responded, fishing a plastic fork out of the bag.

~
29th January

Will didn't sleep, he didn't try to. He didn't go bed. He didn't even walk into the bedroom. He simply just laid there, on the sofa as soon as he got back from work, only now realising that it was already time for him to go back.

The press were waiting outside the prison doors, submerging Will in questions and begging for details on Nico Di Angelo.
"He didn't kill anyone," was all he provided, before ducking his head and entering through the doors.

It was just like any other day inside the building, the receptionist was bored as ever, Montes patted his shoulder in a friendly gesture upon greeting. Just like any other day.

Except it wasn't. He wasn't going to go and keep watch of any 'threats' Nico could attempt. He was going to escort him to his death, his fucking death.

Nico was perched on the edge of the bed when Will arrived, he unlocked the gate swiftly and before he knew it he kissed him once more. Half kiss, half hug, his arms bringing Nico as impossibly close to himself as possible while threading fingers through his hair.

"I love you," Will croaked, "I love you so much."

Nico's arms extended to hug him back, looping around his torso to rest his head against his chest, "I love you too... I'm sorry."

Will opened his teary eyes over Nico's shoulders, he caught the distant yet brightly visuals red button that sat on the wall. That's when everything fell into place, gears started to turn in Will's mind.

"I can get you out," he breathed into Nico's ear, before releasing his embrace. "I can get you out! The fire alarm! I can trigger it and during the The chaos of the evacuation I can sneak you away. We can run away. We'll leave the country, Nico. You and me. We'll go anywhere you want—"

"Will, please just—"

"Ah Solace," disturbed a strong Portuguese accent, "Chief sent me here, said this one is a slippery one, he'll need two escorts. He doesn't look like much though. But that's murderers for you, huh?" Paolo unlatched his handcuffs from his own belt, hooking them forcefully on Nico's wrists, having them dig in his skin intentionally. He grabbed his arm roughly, dragging him down 6f as Will watch with vivid red vision.

"You coming Solace? Midazolam's not gonna last forever you know," he humoured and then laughed at his own sick joke. The blonde followed, just about stealthy enough to loosen the cuffs on Nico's hands under the eye of Paolo.

The dark skinned cop lead them all to an black SUV. They entered without question. The windows were tinted and the driver didn't speak once. Will watched Nico during the whole journey, who stared out the window in wonder. Will was reminded this was the first time he'd seen the sky in more than a month, he was glad he was distracted.

They arrived at the unit in less than 30 minutes. Media pressed against the SUV, idol cameras flashing for a lucky glimpse of the infamous murderer Nico Di Angelo. As he was escorted out, head hung low and long strands in hope to hide his face, several more guards and cops joined to keep the press at bay. They still followed behind Nico as he entered the red brick building. It was a havoc with the governors, cops, media and citizens, barely enough space in the atrium to accommodate so many. And somehow, Will saw the same kaleidoscope eyes woman approach with fury in her steps.

Her eyes would've been pretty, Will thought, had they not been so full of spite and rage. They looked almost maniacal, frightening, Will knew Nico could sense it too. But the Italian narrowed his gaze at her, "I didn't kill Jason, Piper." He growled, turning away at the sound of the static hum filling the room.

"Thank you everyone for gathering here today. On 29th August 2006, the execution of 27 year old Niccolo Di Angelo shall take place. Right now, we are waiting for the confirmation of set up of equipment before anyone can be sent in. In the mean time, I'll choose who will be the two witnesses alongside Piper McClean."

The man on the podium lifted up a bowl full of paper, he reached inside, shuffling it around a little before drawing two slips, he unravelled each one, reading them internally before announcing, "Charles Beckendorf and Frank Zhang will be this case witnesses—"

The phone rang, and it was like a penny drop in silence, the man on the podium swiftly rushed to answer in, all that was exchanged was a simple 'okay' before the one sided conversation was over.

"Nico Di Angelo, Piper McClean, Charles Beckendorf and Frank Zhang, please follow me."

Will's heart pounded so heart it threatened to beat out of his chest, he couldn't let Nico go, so he grasped the handcuffed man with everything he had, "No, I will not let this happen to you Nico. I love you, for fucks sake this can't be real—"

"Will, it's okay," Nico breathed before being yanked away by another officer.

Will Solace last laid his eyes on the man as the Italian turned his head to exchange their final gaze, mouthing an 'I love you' to Will before he was dragged around a corner. Never to be seen again.

AN:
Haha, whoops, sorry Neeks.

I'm sorry but that just seemed very art by the goddess Viria seemed very fitting in this case.
Before writing this I didn't know whether I should actually kill Nico in the end so I asked Moonneeks for what she thought. She told me to kill him and then do an alternative ending. But right now it's about to be 5am and I need my sleep. Maybe the next chapter I'll do a 'sike' Nico didn't die.
I wanted to rush to get this out, which hence, the super rushed ending.