[CW: likely references to child neglect, alcoholism and violence]

For what would probably be the first time during his sentence, Eugene would be led out of his cell with the announcement that he had a visitor. He wasn’t even taken to the usual place for prison visits: a dark room with cold, dark grey stone walls, bars separating the prisoner’s side from that of the visitors, and no chairs to make either party comfortable. Instead, he was led to the room where the doctor checked his patients: a room with no bars, apart from those in front of the high windows, a room with a table and chairs, a room where only the few fortunate inmates with family members wealthy enough to bribe the staff received their visitors.
 
But the elegant young lady who sat waiting in a chair with her back straight and her hands folded in her lap could surely not be family. Surely no Longbottom had ever worn such a fashionable pink dress, with slightly puffed sleeves and lace over the shoulders and down along the front, or such a smart wide, crème coloured hat with decorative ruby and rose coloured flowers, or such good quality, high-heeled boots of white leather. Surely Eugene had never seen his any of his sisters with diamond earrings dangling from their earlobes or a pearl choker necklace around their necks. No sister of his had clean and oiled black curls pinned up at the back of her head in the latest fashion, with just a careful few curly strands loose to frame her face.  
 
Indeed, this elegant young lady looked nothing like the Ruth Longbottom Eugene probably remembered: a scrawny, barefooted child, who wore dirty clothes and whose arms, legs, and or face were always cut or bruised in one way or another because she fought other children and grown ups alike to get what she wanted; a waif whose black curls were unwashed and uncombed and whose nails were black to the point that teachers would sent her home frequently with the order to come back looking less ‘feral’ and nobody would hire her once she was out of school; an unruly girl with a quick tongue and even quicker hands, who could run faster and spit further than most of the boys, and punched back harder too. Nothing of that young wildling could be recognized in this fine young lady – except, perhaps, in the hardness in her eyes, as she kept glancing up at the door, a look of ‘I’ll cut you before you cut me’, and in the way she pulled her upper lip between her teeth the way he would have seen her do as a child, when she was nervous and calculating her next move.
 
Nervous she was.

Eugene lay in his cell. He had gotten comfy on his bunk and was trying to catch up on some sleep he'd missed from the night before after two of the inmates had been shouting or screaming most of the night. Not only that but the screws had also been shouting to keep the noise down. But still only a few more weeks and he'd be out of here.

His breathing had slowed down. His thoughts drifting almost to sleep when one of the hall screws had knocked on the door and shouted "longbottom......you've got a visitor" he slung his feet round before muttering "who the fucks come to see me!" He said as his feet hit the floor sliding from his top bunk.

He grabbed his sweater and followed the gaurd. Quickly getting it on as the main hall was like an ice block all year. He followed him down a flight of stairs & through to infirmary. Why the hell was He going there? Perhaps the doctor had come back to check his ribs or his nose.

He caught a glimpse of someone through the door. Perhaps it was a lawyer. He looked again.......surely it couldn't be? After all this time?

He walked through the door before speaking.........."Ruth?"

Ruth had been so anxious she had almost decided not to go. Would he be angry with her for not visiting him all these years? Would he even still care to see her? She had been arguing with him in her head, preparing herself mentally for a fight. The bastard! If he had a big mouth, she’d be ready for him!

But when he stepped in and she saw him, her defences dropped and she was wounded. She had not thought about him for a long time. When he had been ripped from her life overnight, she had felt disoriented. But when it became clear that he would go to jail and was not coming back, it had been easier to just forget him and focus on the challenges she faced in his absence. Now it all came back to her, the missing, the anger, the hurt. He had been her closest sibling. He had always looked out for her, protected her, tried to cheer her up when things were hard, and told her off when she did something stupid. He hadn’t been gentle with her and she had often been rude to him, but in the chaotic world they had shared, he had built for her a small oasis of safety. Then one day he was gone, and there had only been chaos. Ruth felt sorry.

She had risen to her feet when he entered, but it took a moment to find her voice. “Aye… It’s me…” she said, in a quieter tone than she wanted. He had been a teenage boy then. Now he was a man, in age and face at least. He looked older than his age, in a sense, weary, haggard even. And battered. Were those bruises? But his body was so thin that it still looked like that of a teenager. “You look like shit,” she blurted out nervously.

Eugene sighed at the comment of his sister and then laughed "yeah well, this ain't the ritz! It's a bloody prison!" He smiled and despite the chains. Was able to hug his sister before looking back towards the screws in the corner. Who'd probably pass a comment later about screwing his sister when he was locked up to fuck with his head.

He sat down at the wooden table resting both hands ok the table. The cuffs dug in. Would he ever get used to them? Probably not but he was counting the moments until his release. He wanted away from this hell more than anything but he would carry the scars forever.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Your the first family I've saw for years! I thought I was abandoned and forgotten here" he said as he held back the tears

A joke. A smile. They were good. She relaxed a little, only to freeze up again when he hugged her out of nowhere. She stood motionless in his embrace, her arms by her side. It was all she could do not to shove him away like she wanted to. His odour overpowered the floral fragrance she wore and clung to her even as he let go. He reeked of the squalor she had spent all her short life escaping. Her eyes narrowed on him as he pulled away. Why did she keep undermining herself like this? She should have let the past rest.

She wanted to leave. She’d go straight home and take a very long bath. Perhaps she’d just burn the dress. She couldn’t risk bringing some pest into the cottage. She’d never come back here. What good was he to her, this uncomfortable memory of a life she had resented? Oh yes, Ruth was ready dash for the door. But he sat down and looked ready to cry. His words told her as much. They equally disgusted her and pulled at her heartstrings. Once upon a time, she had cared about him.

She sighed and reluctantly sat down across from him, watching the cuffs on his wrists absent-minded. “What did you expect?” she commented quietly, trying to ignore the filth she could almost feel weighing on her skin. “Northallerton’s hardly around t’ corner, and it’s not like they remembered ye t’ mornin’ after they took ye away. And everyone had their shit to deal with. It wasn’t easier on me either when ye were gone, ye know?”