Author's Note: Rated T for violent themes.

This story was inspired by the story Chained Heat by Veltrops; you can find it under favourite stories on my profile. The cover picture used was also done by Veltrops, so if you like it do check out his profile on Deviant Art. If you enjoy the ThreshxCaitlyn pairing, there is also a fic by Kanariya 9 you can read, also under my favourites.

Dedicated, with love, to myself 3

Hangman

1. Jeopardy

noun

[mass noun]

danger of loss, harm, or failure: the whole peace process is in jeopardy

Law danger arising from being on trial for a criminal offence.

Time passed slowly in the confines of prison. The night seemed to creep in, invading even the windowless, torch lit hallways. As Caitlyn strolled down the dim, sterile corridors she kept her back straight, each step confident. She had every right to be here she told herself, but she could still taste the guilt in the back of her mouth. Normally she wasn't one for regretting the past; but something about this particular incident had always bothered her.

She turned the corner of the empty corridor, and came face to face with rows of bars stretching into the distance. The inhabitants of the cells roused at the sound of her boots against the floor. Some turned in their beds, burrowing heads further into their thin blankets in an attempt to block out the activity. Others bared their teeth at her, rattling the bars and yelling insults. A few of those faces she recognised, faces that she had once spent months hunting down, her prey. But now she only registered them with an unsettling familiarity; they were closed cases. Never breaking her stride she passed them by, the coarse shouting and rattling seeming to ring in her eyes even as she entered the administrative section of the building. This was not an unfamiliar ritual to her; she would go through this very process every time she handed over a new prisoner, or needed to deal with paperwork. But this particular time she was here to do neither.

Caitlyn's smart rap on the door echoed hollowly within. After a moment's pause she could hear the scraping of metal as a bolt was lifted. The door swung open to reveal the night warden who ruled over the prison after dark. He peered at her from behind murky green eyes and smiled amiably. Arriving from the shadow isles seven years ago, Caitlyn had never been able to like him, perhaps appreciate the work he did, but like him? His skin was pale, pasty almost, as if he had long ago ceased to be warm. Despite the sickly pallor of his skin, his physical condition seemed to be on par, indeed exceeding in some areas, her. She had never heard of him leaving the confines of the prison, so how he managed to maintain his physical condition was a mystery to her. Long dark braids like rope ended in silver hooks past his shoulders, and swayed slightly when he moved. He wore a bone-lined coat, dark green material ending well below his knees. Caitlyn could never for the life of her figure out why he buttoned up such a heavy coat so low. The top three buttons remained undone, revealing more of his chest than Caitlyn would have felt comfortable seeing. Frankly, although she would never admit to it, it was distracting. What offended her most about the man however, were his eyes. The way they looked at you, as if they were judging you by some inconceivable standards. Those were cruel eyes, as was the man they belonged to.

"Do you make a habit of bolting your door, warden?"

"It makes me feel at home." His mouth turned up at the corners in what she assumed was a smile. "Would you deprive me of this small comfort?" As per usual his manner irked her.

"In future you will be expected to use standard locks."

"I'll keep that in mind." Again with his dismissive voice. He moved aside as he said this, inviting her into his office. It was dark outside the window and the only light came from a spluttering lantern hanging on the far wall. The dim illumination revealed a desk at one side of the room, empty even of a familiar scattering of papers, and at the other end a pair of high backed wooden chairs. Unnervingly, noted Caitlyn, chains were attached to the armrests. She watched Thresh as he crossed the room with his wide stride and rummaged around behind his desk.

"So Miss Sheriff, what brings you here?" A part of her wanted to object to his butchering of her title, but at that moment the last thing Caitlyn wanted to do was make trivial complaints.

"I'm here to see a prisoner for questioning, prisoner-" Thresh cut her off.

"Prisoner 3882." He had finally found what he was looking for in his drawer, a key. He held it out for her but Caitlyn had frozen warily. "I had a most illuminating conversation with him just last month. Nice man you know." Noticing that she wasn't moving any closer to him, Thresh strolled over to the wide eyed woman, swirling the key ring around his finger and grinning to himself. "A little strange though, seemed to think that something along the lines of a miscarriage of justice happened to him. Of course he admitted to all these crimes, breaking and entering, burglary, armed robbery, even raping his dear wife." Caitlyn reached out to snatch the key but Thresh quickly snaked out his hand, grabbing her arm. "But there was one particular crime that he repeatedly denied. I wonder why that is? Did he lie?" He looked at her, something manic glowing in his green eyes. "No one lies to me Caitlyn." She glared at him, meeting his eyes with her own.

"And what proof do you have, Warden?" She spat his title out through her gritted teeth. To her chagrin he simply tilted back his head and laughed.

"You misunderstand me. I don't intend to report or blackmail you."

"Then what do you mean by your accusations?" His reply answered little.

"Nothing. I'll keep your secret. Maybe I can even be your knight in shining armour." He laughed again, a harsh cold sound that grated on Caitlyn's ears.

"Are you toying with me?" She asked in near disbelief.

"I'm bored." Was all the reply she received. Caitlyn gave him a withering glare and shook his arm off hers.

"I'm not a plaything; I'm the Sheriff of Piltover. Don't forget that." She held out her outstretched hand, and Thresh, after a moment's consideration, dropped the keychain into it.

"If you're worried about the prisoner talking," called out Thresh as she turned to leave, "don't."

Caitlyn was already halfway down the corridor when she suddenly realised that she had no idea where to find the prisoner. She slowly came to a stop and turned her head around. Thresh was leaning in the open doorway of his office, watching her with a sly grin on his face. Judging by his silence, he was going to make her ask.

"Warden, I need directions."

"Yes, you do." He agreed.

"Please," Caitlyn forced through gritted teeth, "give me my directions." Before I shove my rifle down your throat.

"With pleasure." Thresh bowed with a flourish of his arms and glided off in the opposite direction, leaving Caitlyn little choice but to follow.

He led her past the eerily silent corridors, filled with sleeping prisoners. Strange that they did not wake up as they had when she entered. The pair entered into the south wing, filled with row after row of empty cells. Piltover State Prison had once been full to the last cell with prisoners, but now in more peaceful times entire blocks lay deserted. A testament, Caitlyn told herself, to the hard work of the police force.

"Why is the prisoner not in the main section?"

Thresh cackled. "I wonder... You'll have your privacy at least." That was true, it would save her the trouble of moving the prisoner to interrogate him. But it wasn't just the other prisoners whom she was worried would overhear her exchange. She watched the man who leisurely walked a few steps ahead of her.

"How much do you know?" She asked. He chuckled quietly to himself, giving his scythes a swing.

"Not much." he admitted. "But enough to get me curious." She noticed his eyes flick towards her.

"I suggest you keep your curiosity to yourself." Caitlyn warned.

"But I want to know." He whined at her, like a child. He was a dangerous one, this man. She remained silent, wary of betraying anything.

The cell of prisoner 3882 was dark and gloomy, and Caitlyn would have walked straight past it if Thresh had not pointed out the hunched over figure in the corner. At first she had thought that he was sleeping, but upon closer inspection she realised that his eyes were open, focused on the floor. He did not stir at their approach. She unlocked the cell door and gave Thresh a menacing look, warning him not to follow her in. He seemed content to stand just outside the cell, intently watching her movement. It was not ideal, but there wasn't much she could do about it. She had intentionally come at night time, hoping that there would be less staff to deal with. It was true, but now, with bright green hawkish eyes upon her, she rather regretted her decision.

"Samuel Riesler." She called out. He did not respond, did not even move the focus of his attention. "Samuel Riesler." she repeated. "Prisoner 3882." At this his head moved a fraction. His eyes slowly shifted towards her, resting on her shoes. "Look at me when I speak to you, prisoner." He obeyed her command, looking upwards, eyes resting on some point above her left shoulder. "Do you remember who I am?"

"Caitlyn Lightbridge. The Sheriff." He spoke in whispered monosyllables, never meeting her eyes. There was an unnatural absence in him, a wrongness. Caitlyn knelt down and looked him clearly in the face. His skin was an ashen grey, with dark bags under his eyes. Matted hair grew out to his shoulders, joining with his beard in an intangible black mess. A scar protruded discretely from behind the discoloured rags that he clothed himself in.

"What happened to you?" She asked sharply.

The prisoner mumbled in response. "Nothing."

"Nothing? What do you mean by nothing?"

"I don't know."

"Have you been mistreated in any way at the hands of the prison staff?" The prisoner's eyes wandered, before once again resting above her left shoulder. Caitlyn glanced behind her. Thresh leered at them, hands playing across the cell bars.

"No." the prisoner replied. Caitlyn stared at him. His thin clothes hung loosely over a sharp frame. Was it natural for a man to be so small?

"Take off your top." she demanded. A glint of fear flashed across the prisoner's face. He wrapped his arms around his body instinctively, defending. Wordlessly, he shook his head. "Take it off or I will take it off for you." The prisoner only tightened his arms, shrinking away from her.

From behind her Thresh's voice sounded, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why is that?" Caitlyn asked, her suspicions all but confirmed.

"Some boxes," Thresh paused poignantly, "won't close once they've been opened."

Caitlyn ignored his cryptic remark, instead ordering the prisoner to remove his top again. And again her request was refused. As little as Caitlyn liked being disobeyed, getting into a scuffle with a prisoner such as this was below her dignity.

"He's been staring at you the whole time." she observed, tilting her head to observe Thresh's reaction. He kept a blank expression, but occasionally his mouth would begin to curl upwards, as if he could not restrain himself.

"I always was easy on the eyes." It was true that under the right circumstances Thresh might be described as handsome, but easy on the eyes he was not. There was something unnerving about him, the restlessness of his fingers, and maybe the constant mirth he wore on his face.

"Do you think that this is some sort of joke?" she asked darkly.

"No, Sheriff."

"Leave us, I'll deal with you later." She ordered him. At her command Thresh, after giving her a regrettable look, stepped back from the cell and retreated around the corner.

As he left he muttered, "I wonder if you can."

Finally alone with the prisoner, she looked down at him.

"I will ask again, have you ever been mistreated by any of the prison staff?"

"No." Caitlyn's eyes narrowed.

"How have you been treated then?"

"Good." he echoed hollowly. She saw the futility of pursuing her line of questioning and decided to return to her original purpose.

"You are scheduled for release within the next two months." she waited for some acknowledgement but he gave none. "Once you are released, you are to make no claims of innocence in relation to the case of Hursten Lightbridge. If you do then I will personally make sure that you are back in prison within a year. There are score of alleged crimes that you were never tried on, and I am not above reopening the cases." The prisoner didn't respond. "Do you understand?" She asked, firmly. Slowly, he nodded his head once.

Standing again in front of Thresh's office Caitlyn found herself so tempted to simply pass straight by it and head for the exit. But she couldn't do it.

"Warden."

"Ahh, Caitlyn, how was your conversation with the prisoner? Interesting no doubt?" He called out to her from behind his desk.

"You are aware that the prisoner rights act was passed three years ago."

"Never heard of it." shrugged Thresh, a sly grin creeping onto his face.

"That wasn't a question, warden. You have heard of it; I briefed all the prison staff myself." Her voice was like steel.

"He has no family now, no one will notice." The casual way in which Thresh brushed off his atrocities enraged Caitlyn. She leaned over the desk and glared down at Thresh.

"I noticed. The law will be enforced."

"And how do you intent to do that? Are you going to arrest me?" He was mocking her now.

"I'll report you to the Justice first. When I get her approval, I will." Thresh seemed to find this inordinately hilarious.

"In that case I might just have to report on a few indiscretions of your own." Caitlyn paused, before slumping into a seat across from him.

"You said you wouldn't try to blackmail me."

"I lied." Of course he had. Not even Caitlyn had truly believed him. Although she had hoped.

Thresh laughed. "Don't glare at me like that. If you're so against lying why don't you tell the public the exact reason why you arrested that unfortunate prisoner?" Caitlyn opened her mouth to reply, but no defence came out. "Tell me, was there ever an attack on your father in the first place?" Thresh's grin was unbearable. Caitlyn remained silent. "Lying to your people." Thresh taunted, "We have a fox amongst us."

"If you tell anyone," Caitlyn warned, "I will come. And make sure that you never talk again." Thresh looked at her with his vile eyes, searching her. At last he came to some sort of conclusion, mouth curling up.

"Empty threats? Just when I was getting excited."

"Don't make that assumption."

Thresh laughing knowingly. "Don't worry, it won't come to that. We can both keep our little secrets together." The very thought of being an accomplice to Thresh's crimes gave Caitlyn a sinking feeling in her stomach. Judging by the look of uncontained glee in Thresh's eyes, he had noticed her nausea. She exhaled in frustration, defeated.

"As you wish, I won't report you. I'll just have to stop you myself."

Thresh surveyed her for a moment as if considering how he should react. 'Can you?'

Caitlyn's answer was resolute. 'I will. Definitely.'

"I'd love to see you try." Judging by the glint in Thresh's eyes, even now he was treating this as a game between them; a battle of wills to determine who would fold first. Caitlyn was rapidly changing her opinion of the man. For the past four years, she realised, he had never revealed anything of his true nature. She regarded him warily now; he was dangerous, and fast becoming her problem.

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