Eugene didn't speak at first but just nodded before continueing. "It's to do with prison riots. That's what occurred yesterday, they withheld food from us and it kicked off in the halls. The food here has nothing to give. It's boiled within an inch of its life and is bland." He played with his fingers before speaking. "4 months is all I have left to serve. I want to get it done and get away from here. Although if you know anything of my family I may end up back here because of them" he sighed "doctor I have no interest in harming anyone. I want to get away from here and get my life sorted again. I came into the prison system when I was 15 for stealing items to pay for food or stealing food to help feed my family. We had or still have nothing"

He looked to the ground "so yeah beatings are common in all prisons not just here, some are worse some are better, the max security prisons are said to be the worst out there for treatment." He sighed "sometimes we all make stupid mistakes and look where it gets us"

Was he to believe the young man? Even someone who had jumped a prison guard and was beaten and wrestled off of his victim might claim that he was beaten for no reason. All the same, it had to be investigated. Tristan intended to write a letter to... to where? He'd need to figure this out. And figure out how to do it without endangering his own position, and this man's safety. If what the young inmate said was true, and the guards found out he had spoken about it, things could get worse for him.

The man was talking a lot, but it wasn't the first time that a prisoner had shared a lot of personal things with him. They were locked in their cells most of the time, and when they were out, in the work room, or exercise yard, or chapel, they weren't allowed to talk to eachother. Many of them where desperate to talk to anyone who would listen. Tristan felt his way around the injuries, looking for any signs of internal bleeding, but he worked slow, to give the poor young man extra time in the company of another human being - well, one that didn't beat him.

"I'm sorry Mr. Longbottom. You should have been in a reform school, not prison, if what you say is true, but there is little I can do to shorten your sentence, I'm afraid. Is your family the Longbottom family from Whitby by any chance?" He had heard of them. He had even found out, from a disillusioned Tobias, that his friend played father to what might be this young man's niece. There was no need to remind anyone of that connection though. Emma, at least, was saved from the horrible fate of being a Longbottom, even if she was doomed to grow up with warring parents.

Life was kind of shit, actually, wasn't it?...

Eugene nodded "I've kept my head down my entire sentence to get it over and done with and return home." He placed both hands on the chair "why would they government waste money on someone who is considered below working class doctor? It's much easier to leave us in a cell to rot and let us disappear than put us through the system" he wiped his chin "yeah my family is the longbottoms from whitby, my mother's a drunk who can't recognise her own children, my fathers god knows where these days and god knows about my siblings. Have you any idea what it's like to be forgotten about by your own family? No visits. No letters. Almost deleted from family history"

He sighed and thought for a moment "I have no idea what to expect when i go back. I've already been through hell on earth back there and here. They say when you hit rock bottom the only way is up but sometimes it doesn't feel like there's a bottom when you end up places like this"

Bruising. A broken rib. No internal bleeding luckily. But those guards had played with a life. An ill fated kick to the kidney or a blow to the head could be more damage than they probably knew. Something had to be done before somebody died here.

"I'm sorry about that, Mr. Longbottom. I have no idea what that must have been like. What will you do when you get back?" He stepped back.

Eugene honestly had no idea "truth be told doc. I've no idea. I've been in here 6 years and got arrested for theft so it might be difficult to get a Job. My family well dont know how that's gonna go down but I can see me heading out to see for a bit. Maybe get some money behind me and restart my life"

He thought for a moment. "I've had no contact with the outside wold for almost 6 years. I've no idea how much things have changed"

Poor kid, to be isolated and abandoned at such a young age. "That's a good idea," he encouraged the young man. "All sort of people go out to sea. You can build up a network and show people you're a good worker." He wondered if his brother's company would hire a lad out of prison. But then again, he didn't want to get too involved. Especially since he did not know much about this guy.

"Now, you've a broken rib. I'm going to have to bind it and you'll have to avoid exercise and other pressure on it for a few weeks. I'll tell the director. And I'll see what I can do for that broken nose..." He walked over to the table, opened his bag and looked for bandage.

Eugene nodded "if I go back to whitby I'll probably end up back here if I'm not careful. I don't want to set myself up to fail. Don't want to give my family the satisfaction of me failing either"

He knew deep down he didn't want to return to his previous life. 6 years in a cell no bigger than most folks bathrooms puts alot of things into perspective and he knew he needed to make changes when he was released. He knew he'd missed alot when he was inside but realised he wanted to see alot upon being released. See some of the world

He groaned in discomfort with his ribs "yeah this isn't the first time my ribs back been broken either. Least this time, no offence doctor but in 6 years this is the first time I've been checked over and not horsed back into a cell and been left battered and bruised" he tilted this head and thought for a moment "third time I've broken my nose aswell" he laughed "someone at any time in this prison has a broken bone doctor. It's the most common thing after pneumonia"

"Someone could die," Tristan said bitterly. He found the bandage and walked back over to the young man. "You know that you can file complaints? You're not entirely without rights just because you are a prisoner. They have no right to beat you up like that.... Hold your left arm up for a moment... can you?"

Eugene held his left arm up. "Its a different world behind bars. Most people are locked up for petty crimes that was just trying to put food on the table for kids" he sighed "its an entirely different world for those looking out of the prison to those looking in. Most people keep there mouth shut and get on with the sentence. A few try to act up but it's usually crushed within seconds. Snitches get stitches. You talk you pay the price. Its the unwritten code of the prison service. Your only a few seconds away from a beating from either a prisoner or a gaurd" he shook his head "I honestly couldn't tell you if life in here is better in here or on the streets, both were hell"

He snorted a laugh "and too the gates of Saint Peter we shall go, one more prisoner reporting. I've served my time in hell......"

"You could file one when you get out. Might make life better for others..." Tristan suggested, while he observed the way the young man's ribs moved. In all fairness, the inmate seemed so pessimistic, he doubted that would be received well. He'd have to figure out whether he himself could instigate an investigation.

He began to bandage young Mr. Longbottom's chest, quiet, so the man could talk if he wanted to. It seemed the best help he could offer, apart from tending to the wounds, was to listen.