Chapter Text
The loud cracks of the foils testing one another echoed through the studio, sharp waves of pressure reverberating off of the windows that were bursting with the golden light of early dawn. He watched as Joan parried and lunged, legs wide, always disapproving. She felt a bead of sweat start at her neck and slowly crawl its way down her arched back as she held her ground, waiting for the right moment. The bead continued slowly past her shoulder blades, down her spine, over the curve of her waist, and when it reached the top of her buttocks, it was time for her to act. She lunged, every muscle contracting with a surge of force as the tip of her foil found its mark on her opponent’s weakest spot, their heart. The edge of her lip curled with satisfaction, and she glanced to the empty corner of the room.
She stepped out of her lunge, quadriceps aching, and pulled her mask from her neck. She shook out her hair, it's sweat-soaked sheen drinking up the sunlight into its darkness. Pulling the fingers of her glove one by one, she loosened and removed it, reaching out to shake the hand of her defeated opponent. She inclined her head slightly, respectful in victory, as she had learned. A gloating winner earns only jealous adversaries. Briskly, she gathered her effects and strode to the locker room.
Governor Joan Ferguson sat at her desk in her new office at Wentworth correctional facility. She looked over the files of the officers under her charge, her fingers glossing over the name “Will Jackson.” She did not have to open his file--she knew his story, following him closely over the last years. Just reading his name left a sour taste in her mouth, his time would be coming soon.
She placed the file neatly under the stack and picked up another one, the name “Vera Bennett” typed neatly on the file. Her new Deputy. She carefully opened the file and was greeted by the blue eyes of her Deputy. Her hair was pulled back in a french twist, soft curls framing her face. She had a soft smile, but her eyes, Joan looked closely, her eyes held a sadness, years of disappointment and failure, Joan thought. There was a soft naivety in her features, an innocence that both confused and intrigued the Governor.
Vera sat in her car in the parking lot. Her heart was beating rapidly in the chest, the palms of her hands sweaty. She wiped them against her uniform. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, she had been a Deputy for awhile now, too long to count, but this time it felt different. Perhaps it had to do with her always being the interim Governor and the board never seeing her as being capable to run Wentworth. She shook her head.
I am just not ready yet, and the board knows that.
She didn’t know anything about her new boss except that her name was Joan Ferguson.
“You are capable of anything.” The audiobook told her. She didn’t know why she listened to self help books--they never seemed to help. All the positive thinking bullshit just-
“And if you visualize it, you can accomplish it.” She hit the eject button, throwing the cd in her back seat. It didn’t help, it wouldn’t help. She grabbed her bag and exited the car, slamming the car door behind her.
Hello Governor, I am Vera Bennett your Deputy, it is a honor to work with you.
She didn’t know why she was practicing in her head the same line she had said many times before.
Hello Governor, I am Vera Bennett your Deputy, it is a honor to work with you.
The air in the officers recreation room was thick with anticipation. All the officers sat and stood around the room waiting for the introduction from the new Governor. People mumbled, spreading rumors about who she was and what she had done in the past.
“They call her the fixer, the last prison she was at she got rid of all the contraband.” Miles said. There was scoffs of incredulity. The room went alive with people mumbling about different rumors they all heard. Vera stood in the center of the room straining to hear everything that was being said.
She felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. She turned her head to the left and she saw the sheepish grin on the face of Fletch. Her stomach turned. The sight of him brought up everything she was desperately trying to forget. That night when she was pinned down...she shut her eyes tight.
“Hey Vera, are you okay?” She heard the voice of Will Jackson. She opened her eyes, looking up at him and smiled.
“Yes, thank you. How are you?” Her eyes were grateful for the distraction.
He smiled and shrugged. “Another boss, another day at Wentworth Correctional Center.”
They both laughed and the room went silent. Everyone looked towards the opening door.
Vera looked in the direction that every head had turned to and felt a tightness in her chest. The new Governor stood in front of them, tall, very tall, with the comfortable stance of a wildcat in the mountains she calls home. Her obsidian hair was streaked with the telltale steel of a long career in corrections and combed tightly into a bun, not a single strand out of place. In fact, as Vera looked her over, she could not find even a single detail out of place anywhere on the woman. Her uniform was pressed with machine precision, her heels polished to a shine typically reserved for optical glass. It was her eyes that caught Vera, though, their mahogany darkness so enveloping that they reminded Vera of the time she looked into the old well at her Aunt’s house. The darkness so deep that you lose sight of the walls around you, leaning as far as you can, eyes straining to see any sign of a bottom, any glimmer of water, when all there is is the dark, waiting patiently for you to lean just a bit too far.
Vera bit her lip.
Ferguson scanned the room before speaking, looking at the employees under her watch. She noticed all their familiar faces from the files she had previously studied, to understand exactly what drives each and everyone of them. Her eyes landed on her young deputy, she was shorter than she imagined, much shorter. Their eyes locked. Ferguson smiled.
A soft blush crept up Vera’s neck.
This was too easy . Joan thought before beginning her address.
“Good morning everyone. For those of you who do not know me, I am Joan Ferguson your new Governor. After looking over reports from the disastrous policies of Erica Davidson, it is clear to me that this prison was run with the lackadaisical attention to our duties.”
The room felt even more tense than it was previously, Vera noticed that Fletch seemed upset. She heard rumors that he was in talks to become the next Governor. The thought of him running Wentworth tightened her jaw until she felt her molars ache. Vera brought her hands behind her back and clasped them tight, her eyes focusing on the new Governor’s mouth.
“The name says it all, Wentworth Correctional Center.” Joan said each word intentionally. She felt it was of the utmost necessity to let these officers know how much they have failed, in such a short amount of time. This failure would end under her charge. She noticed the flush had darkened to anger in her new Deputy, but could not place where that anger was directed, certainly not at herself, she noted.
“It’s written all over the building, it's on our name badges, and our employment contracts. Think of it as a mission statement. Society has deemed these women defective, and it is our job to fix them.”
Defective ? A furrow of Vera’s brow flitted across her face before she stifled it. Sure, many fought with drug addiction, anger issues, or other maladies of self-control, but she could think of just as many officers with the very same troubles. She shifted her weight to her left foot and broke her stare to glance at Will, who seemed to be having the same trouble with this new mission.
“Not to pander, to to befriend, to indulge, or to accommodate. We exist to correct. Now for three months these women, these women have had it easy. Your instability has given them opportunity. They’ll have established new systems and networks, their confidence will be at an all time high.”
Joan had taken stock of which faces flickered when she declared Wentworth’s new mission, and was disappointed to see her ermine Deputy among those who disagreed. She was heartened by Vera’s agreement at the laxity of control during this time of upset, and the room was warming as she rounded to the motivational portion of her address.
“Today that confidence ends. Today we shut their systems down.
We stamp on their opportunities, we destroy their networks.
Each and every person here will know their place. This is a prison, and we are in charge.”
Joan was getting a few nods and smiles around the room, and was pleased with how easily they all were whipped up by a bit of lively rhetoric.
“Now, let’s show the inmates how this prison will be run. Good day, go to work.”
Joan was hoping to catch her Deputy, but saw Vera dart out the side door. Curious, she thought. Joan was swarmed by officers eager to introduce themselves. She grimaced for the onslaught of handshakes.
Vera walked quickly down the hall. She needed to call and check on her mother, tomorrow they would be moving her back into the house to live out her last days. There was a couple last minute planning items she needed, to make sure the nurse could work the hours Vera worked, and to ensure all the equipment would be delivered at the correct time.Vera felt sorry for the women who was to take care of her mother while she was at work. Rita was not a nice woman, far from that, she was unnecessarily cruel and demanding.
She sat down at the desk and dialed the hospital number and was greeted by a pained voice from the nurse looking after her mother.
“Hi, this is Vera.”
Her mind wandered as the woman told her about the details of her mother, it wasn’t that she didn’t care, it was just hard to focus when the new Governor’s speech was on replay in her head. She wondered if Ferguson would be a fair Governor or unnecessarily cruel. They had strict Governor’s in the past and the prisoner’s never responded well to the “tough love” approach. Strong disciplinary actions never seemed to work when the prisoners already knew they were being punished. Their daily surroundings reinforced the very idea of atonement, it was a visual reminder time and time again. They were surrounded by 6 meter walls and barbed wire fence in every direction the eye could see. They were just steps away from the ocean, but they never could see it, only smell the salt in the air and feel the dampness that the sea carried in. Wasn’t that punishment enough, to feel your surroundings but never gaze upon the shores?
She tapped her pen nervously on the table. Then there was Fletch, back fresh from a Holiday from Bali. She wondered what it was like to visit Indonesia, to feel the fresh sand underneath your feet and the warmth and humidity against your skin. She imagined laying on the beach all day, soaking up the sun, drinking beverages out of fruit shaped cups and finding, somehow, some sense and understanding of spirituality. She was dedicated to her work and her mother would never allow her such a folly of expenditure.
Maybe when mother dies I’ll visit.
She shook her head of the terrible thought. Guilt pained her heart for momentarily wishing for her mother’s death.
“Vera?” The voice on the other line brought her out of her thoughts.
“Yes, sorry. Thank you for the update, I’ll have to go.” She hung up the phone not waiting for the other woman to say goodbye. She pushed back from the desk, throwing her hands back and stretching before standing up and smoothing out her skirt. Her head throbbed.
She got up from the desk and briskly walked towards the recreation room. She needed aspirin or a large stiff drink. Considering that she was at work, the aspirin would be easier to obtain.
A sigh escaped her lips.
She walked into the room and went rigid at the sight of Fletch. She didn’t want to talk to him, but she knew this moment would have to happen eventually. She opened her locker, silently praying that he would leave her alone.
Joan watched from the doorway at the interaction between her Deputy and Mr. Fletcher. There was an obvious tension between them, Joan paused for a second, reading every interaction. Joan noted how Vera’s body language was very stiff, Joan could tell that Vera wanted nothing to do with the man, but was too afraid to tell him what she really felt.
Ex-lovers, he hurt her .
“I’m sorry to hear about your mother, Vera.” Joan overhead Mr. Fletcher say, she took a mental note. Vera’s mother had cancer and was only given a couple weeks to live. This would leave the Deputy at a vulnerable state, Joan thought. And when people were at their most vulnerable they were the easiest to bend to your will.
Emotions, after all, make you weak.
“It’s a Buddha, they reckon it’ll help stimulate positive energy.” Joan grimaced at the words that came out of Fletcher’s mouth. Could this man not tell that Vera wanted nothing to do with him?
Vera looked at the Buddha statue in her hands. She wanted to vomit, this was all too much for her to handle. Here was Fletch giving her a gift, apologizing to her in his own way for what he did to her. He had blamed it on the grog, and his “Holiday” in Bali was just a month long rehab she thought. Was this one of his steps?
“There you are. I wondered where you have been hiding.” Vera’s head snapped up and saw the Governor looking at her with stern eyes. She was thankful for the distraction and for an out to the rather awkward interaction between her and Fletch. DId she notice a slight raise of the eyebrow? Was it in disapproval of or interest in the interaction Vera and Fletch were having?
Fletch looked at Ferguson with disdain in his eyes and the Governor smiled at him watching as the neanderthal of a man shuffle out of the room to start his rounds.
“I need you in medical.” Ferguson stated matter of factly before turning to walk down the hall.
Vera grabbed her aspirin, swallowing it dry, and quickly followed the Governor.
It required an extra half of step for Vera to keep up with the much taller woman. Finally, when she was by Ferguson’s side, Vera repeated the line that was on the play in her head earlier. “Hello Governor, I am Vera Bennett your Deputy, it is a honor to work with you . ” Instead of the simple and regimented introduction she wanted to say, it came out “Governor Ferguson, I’m your Deputy Vera uh Bennett. It’s exciting and a honor to work with you.” She cursed herself for the unnecessary pauses and the falter in her voice. She felt a blush hotly in her ears.
“Yes Ms. Bennett, I know who you are. I did go over your file.” Ferguson’s voice was flat and matter of fact,but graciously without malice. Ferguson’s heels echoed throughout the hallway with a deep thud, warning everyone of her arrival. She observed the deputy as they rounded a corner. Vera was a foot shorter than Joan, a petite frame that was only accentuated by the skirt of her prison approved uniform. It was tight enough to give you a sense of her compact but womanly figure. Vera couldn’t be described as wildly beautiful, but others could describe her as pleasantly plain. Ms. Bennett could easily pass through a crowd and go unnoticed, Joan thought. She imagined her teenagers years against the wall at a school dance watching as others were chosen while Vera was left to observe. She probably blossomed much later in life, but by then it was too late. Her confidence was shattered, but she always felt like she could be capable of more.
She listens to self help books.
The two of them must have looked like an odd pair as they walked down the halls of Wentworth. Joan carried herself with the confidence and pose of a woman who knew her value and power, while Vera still felt unsure about where she stood in the world. This intrigued Ferguson the most, Vera was a woman who had obvious asspirations for Governorship, yet lacked the self confidence or self belief that she was indeed capable of the job.
Joan noticed the other woman still had a deep blush present on her ears, probably from the awkward introduction she gave Joan, Ferguson smiled inwardly.
“You have a rapport with these women, do you not Vera?” Joan asked, arms crossed observing the woman in the medical unit.
Vera looked up at Joan, her doe blue eyes wide, before she squinted. She bit her lower lip.
“Why don’t you talk to them and see if they will explain what their fight was about. They may respond better to a senior officer than to a Governor who is new.” A soft smile graced the Governor’s lips as she gestured Vera into the Medical unit. She stayed on the outside observing the scene unfold in front of her.
Vera entered the room, the two women were severely beaten up, each having deep lacerations all over their faces and bodies. This was alarming to her, they both were close friends and she often saw them sitting together in the yard, talking and laughing. They seemed close. Prison had a way of pushing people to extremes, friends became deadly enemies and sometimes enemies became lovers. It had to do with how heightened everyone’s emotions were, because they had nothing else to focus on, they focused deeply on the darker sides of humanity. Revenge was common.
“Who forced you to fight it out?” Vera asked, it was a question she had asked a million time and she knew no one would lag. She was a screw after all. They said nothing, holding onto their pounding heads, looking at one another with distrust and sadness in their eyes.
“Did this have to do with the contraband found today in Laundry?” She asked again, grabbing on the railings of the bed.
She was again met with silence, she clenched her jaw. She changed her tune.
“Listen, I understand. If you talk, you’re in deep trouble. But I promise we can protect you if you let us know who made you do this to each other.” Vera’s tone was soft and nurturing. One of the women looked up as if to speak, but the other cut her off before anything could escape her lips.
“No one made us do anything to each other.” She spat at the words and Vera winced, feeling the hatred behind what was being said at her. Even if Vera was just trying to help, she was seen as the enemy.
“So are you saying you did this to each other?”
The both shook their head in a negative. “We don’t know who did this to us, we didn’t see the attack.”
And with that Vera knew the conversation was over. Without a witness or someone willing to talk she wasn’t going to get anything out of the two girls. The prisoners liked to handle matters themselves. Vera leaned over the railing and touched one of the women gently on their forearm. “If you feel the need to talk, you know where I am.”
Vera stepped back, crossing her arms. She knew in her gut this was Franky Doyle’s doing. She was Top Dog and was desperately trying to remain in control. It was a barbaric tactic, something Vera had read in her history book that the Roman’s did to one another, forcing whoever they thought could be informant for the enemy to fight, often to the death. It wasn’t necessarily that they believed someone would eventually tell the truth, but it was a flex and show of power. The one who survived would have been beaten down, physically and psychologically, and their allegiance would be set in stone, solidifying the power of the one in charge.
Look at what she made you do, this is your Top Dog?
Vera watched closely at the nurses attended to the prisoners. Despite seeing these horrific beatings weekly, they still treated each prisoner with the utmost care. They cared deeply and never forgot about their humanity. It was endearing.
She could feel the eyes of Ferguson on her, watching how she interacted with the prisoners, studying her. She felt a hotness creep up her neck and a warmth envelop her body. It embarassed her to be watched so closely. Vera desperately wanted to make a good impression for her new boss, but she knew mistakes would be made when she was feeling so...awkward.
How would Joan react to the ways that Vera handles the prisoners? Governors in the past made it clear to her that she was no friend to the women here, but Vera didn’t feel that was necessarily true. At times she felt as if the women needed a friend, someone who wasn’t a prisoner to confide in. Vera cared deeply for the women and took the “corrections” part of the job very seriously--she had seen remarkable change at many women who were under the watch her in the past. Women, who coming in were a mess, and when they left were capable of being productive members of society. Vera felt a sense of pride knowing that in a small part she was responsible for the positive change she saw in many of the women. She hoped she never was a negative influence, always toying the line carefully between an authoritative figure and a sympathetic one.
Am I the type of Deputy Ferguson wants?
Ferguson looked at Vera and raised a single eyebrow, signaling the younger women to come to her with any information.
Joan’s eyes were dark and foreboding, but it made Vera want to know more about her. Was this woman always like this, so demanding in presence that it made everyone else around her shrink away? Ferguson exuded confidence and power, and here Vera was meek as a mouse. She sighed.
“It is clear that Erica Davidson did not have the leadership to run this prison effectively and these last three months have been a free for all.” Ferguson stated, her arms crossed and face filled with disappointment and disgust.
Vera immediately felt the need to defend Erica, “Well, she did her best and we’ve been understaffed since she left and Mr. Channing was hardly...here.” Before even finishing her thought Vera could feel the disapproval stare from Ferguson it was clear that the Governor did not tolerate any type of failure at all. No excuses allowed. Vera swallowed hard hopping Ferguson would divert her gaze and attention elsewhere.
“Which of the inmates stepped up when Jack Holts was killed?” Ferguson changed the subject. She couldn’t stand seeing her Deputy make excuses for the ineptitude of Davidson. Didn’t she see that Erica was not a friend but a formidable enemy? She coerced her way into the favor of Mr. Channing and the board and took the Governor position away from Vera? Vera’s innocence baffled Joan.
“Well Bea Smith was the favorite, but since she wasn’t around Franky Doyle took over, she’s in H2.”
The infamous H block. Joan inwardly smiled, she was excited to see some of Wentworth’s most notorious criminals.
“I’ll see her.” The command was accompanied by a slight tilt of Ferguson’s head. When she saw no movement in the periphery of her vision, she turned her eyes to meet Vera’s, who stared back, startled by her decisiveness. “Now.” Ferguson watched as her little mouse scurried away to comply with her command.
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