Kevin.

I shouldn't be here, I knew that, but nobody else believed me. Fate, that horribly rude concept, did its thing usually without checking on other people.

"Faster, Olusola!"

The dull gray walls, the itchy jumpsuit, the grim looking man guiding me through the hallways, I never would've thought that all of these clichés were true.

However what nobody ever told you about was the way you would feel. Something about this environment, this prison, just made me feel guilty. Guilty for a crime I knew I didn't commit, but I still walked with my head hanging between my shoulders.

The security guard, a somewhat short man with light already graying hair and a strong British accent nudged me forward every now and then, when he felt that I was going to slow. Weirdly enough he didn't look like he was fit to take on a man like me and I liked to think I was kinda muscular but I kept in line. He had this presence that made me wish to never find out why exactly he escorted me to my new 'home' alone.

"There we go," the guard said and opened one of the many identically looking doors.

This cell block, I had heard earlier, was specifically for murderers and with that in mind I couldn't help but feel anxious about finding out with who I would have to share my cell with. I felt my heart hammer against my chest, was aware of every time it would pump blood trough my body and with a not insignificant amount of embarrassment I caught myself sweating out of sheer fear.

But I never should show too many emotions, common sense and TV had taught me that.

"Foust," the guard grunted out, stepped in the cell and pushed against whoever was lying on the bottom bunk of the bed.

The name sounded German enough it reminded me of Faust the scientist and if I was lucky, he wouldn't speak a word English. I watched the figure move, but couldn't see any details. In my head this Foust guy turned into a gigantic German warrior with anger issues and well, it would've been an understatement to say that I was scared for my life.

I heard the guard sigh loudly as he made his way out of the cell and while passing me he pushed me inside the cell through the door. For the first time I truly saw Foust. He was like nothing I had imagined and the relief I felt must surely have shown itself strong enough on my face.

Foust was shorter than me, but not shorter than the guard, had an obvious beer belly and seemed extremely tired. He looked more like a guy who would sit at home and drink a beer than commit a murder.

I turned to the guard, 'Summers' his name tag read, and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Are you sure this is the right cell block?" I asked and tried to sound like I didn't doubt his ability to do his job, but that somehow didn't work.

"Just you and all the other murderers," he answered with a dirty grin and shoved me further into my new cell. I stumbled backwards and bumped against Foust. The guy fell flat on his ass with a loud huff and stayed down there.

Before I could protest Summers had the door already halfway closed and walked, no swaggered away, generously granting us this false feeling of privacy.

Without thinking about it I helped Foust up and sat him down on the bed looking for any injuries he might have had. I was rather cautious, hoping he wouldn't lash out at me.

I took a step back and allowed him some space, but he didn't move. Instead Foust looked up at me through his long hair that had fallen into his face with an expression as if I had just killed his puppy. This man, I thought, couldn't be a coldblooded murderer. He must've been falsely accused, just like me.

Oh.

But he didn't know I was innocent. All this ragged man, this cowboy (he seemed like one), saw was a huge, muscular (black) man that hadn't even needed to put effort into pushing him to the ground. I took another step back, careful not to move too fast and then bend down to him.

"Hi there, buddy," I started in a voice I usually reserved for kids and animals. "I'm Kevin, Kevin Olusola. You don't need to be afraid, I won't harm you."

With a small smile I held out my hand for him. If he really was my new cell mate, then yeah, life here could be good and the time until I finally get a decent lawyer could be bearable. So far he didn't seem like a threat.

"Oh fuck off," Foust spat with an incredibly deep voice and slapped my hand away. Dumbstruck I stood there, bend over to appear as small as possible and this guy had nothing better to do than to insult me. Was he thinking I was making fun of him?

Foust stood up and leaned against the bed. He fixed his appearance in a matter of seconds and gave me time to collect my thoughts.

Although he was shorter than me, he somehow managed to stare me down.

"The name is Tim Foust," he said and looked me directly in the eyes with an expression as if he wanted to add something. He opened and closed his mouth, but stayed silent, shook  his head as if he had decided I wasn't worth wasting more time on and instead walked out of our semi-closed door.

Still not the worst cell mate I could've gotten.

I followed Foust out of our cell and watched him walk up to someone. Judging by the way his attitude changed Foust seemed to be friends with this guy.
The other man had a rather notably skinny body and he looked like he hadn't cut his hair in ages. Weirdly enough whoever that guy was, he had a way of walking and holding himself up that reminded me of a cowboy, just like Foust.

As it turned out, two minutes after me thinking that, a 'cuddly' man walked up to Foust and two other cowboys followed him. I smiled to myself; sure Foust had been kinda rude towards me, but obviously he had some friends who were a lot like him.

I strolled towards the group not really thinking about how Foust would react to spending more time with me than necessary, but since we had a messy start, I was hoping to fix things a bit.

But I never got close to them, instead, someone grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the cafeteria. My inner clock helpfully provided me with hunger, weirdly enough I hadn't even realized how long it had been since the last time I had eaten.

The tall blonde man had a firm grip on me, even though his hand barely fit around my muscled arms. He stayed silent throughout the whole way to the cafeteria and when we finally arrived he guided me towards the only already occupied table.

A shorter, more feminine man and a bearded one with longish hair seemed to have already been waiting for him - us? What's the magic with long hair, I asked myself after noticing the man's hair was long enough to pull it into a man bun.

"Scott," the bearded one started and leaned slightly forward. "Who is that?"

The blond man, Scott, shrugged, gave us a cheeky smile and started to pat my back.

"Well, newbie, who are you?"

"Kevin Olusola," I muttered, not entirely comfortable with my current situation, but when I looked up all of them smiled reassuringly at me.

I sighed and rubbed my arms. I had to remind myself that no matter how nicely they smiled at me, each and every person in this cell block was a murderer. Even Foust.

°^°

There we go, my first story involving other people than just PTX. Yay me!

So in case you were wondering, this Jail AU was slightly inspired by the musical Chicago or rather the 'Cell Block Tango' and the group around Foust are Home Free. 

Please vote and/or review if you like this story and THANK YOU for being here!