Title: Perspectives
Summary: Things change. Or were never what they seemed, in the first place.
Characters: Michael Scofield, Lincoln Burrows, Alex Mahone
Series: Boxed In
Genre: General. Spoilers for series 3 & 4.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Prison Break? Not mine.
Author's Note: Companion piece to Chaos and Toll.
"Linc, she could- "
"For fuck's sake, Michael! Sara- " He stopped, helpless at the expression on his brother's face. "Mike, do you really think I'd have told you if I hadn't- If I wasn't sure?"
"He said- "
"He who? Mahone? You're gonna believe that frigging bastard over your own brother?" he raged. "He murdered Dad, Michael! Or did we both get that wrong?" He turned to walk away a few steps, despairing of the hope his brother couldn't conceal.
Michael watched Lincoln's hunched shoulders, knowing that his brother was still trying to protect him. Still carrying that burden of silence Michael had tacitly demanded of him. Unable even to defend himself because of it. "I know I said I didn't want to know. That it was okay for you and Sucre to never tell. That I'd never ask. But...I am. Asking now, Linc. What did you see? What makes you so sure?"
"Mike..." Linc sighed. He turned and looked into Michael's eyes, watching as the hope in them starting fading to a resigned sadness. "I saw- "
"What, Linc?"
'Red hair. I saw red hair, Mike. And blood. I got it under my fingernails. And I saw- I saw...' "Holy shit! Michael..."
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
"No," he said, coldly. "Why the hell should I believe you? You're just playing me, telling me what you think I want to hear. Singing Gretchen's song- "
"No, it's the truth. Scofield, your brother- "
"Lincoln saw- "
"What? What exactly did he see- " Mahone stopped, as Michael glanced away. "My god, you don't know, do you? He never told you..."
"My brother wouldn't lie to me- " Michael broke off, remembering: "90,000? I didn't know Mom had any life insurance. I- I don't understand, Linc - why now, after all these years?" "Linc wouldn't lie to me about that."
"Burrows didn't lie, he just got it wrong." Mahone paused, considering his words. "What he saw - whatever he thinks he saw - wasn't real."
"Linc is not the idiot many think he is."
"It's got nothing to do with stupidity. C'mon, Michael, use that brain of yours! These people have almost unlimited resources - they can get whatever they need to achieve their goals. We know the corpses on TV programmes, the movies, aren't real! It's all special effects - latex, moulds, make-up. But we buy into it. We suspend belief. And we don't look too closely- " he stopped, as Michael began to pace. "Emotionally, psychologically, they had your brother just where they needed him to be. It's not called the power of suggestion for nothing..."
Michael stopped his pacing and gazed intently at the other man's tired face.
"Your brother was set-up to believe what they wanted him to believe," Mahone stated, flatly. "And consider this possibility: why would they kill one of their birds in the hand, when they could just pretend to do so? Save the valuable birdie for future use?" he reasoned, bitterly.
"Like now?"
"No. I'm not with them. And nor is Sara. The birdie flew away- "
"Okay, Alex. Say I were to believe you - you'd tell me where she is? No strings?"
"There are always strings, Michael - it's just a matter of who pulls them and when. And I have an idea where the good doctor might be."
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Lincoln stopped, noticing Michael's pallor, the dazed expression. "Mike, I swear to you I thought she was dead! When I saw it- "
"It's okay, Linc, it's okay."
" -and Sucre- Both of us..." he trailed off, and sank onto the bench, drained. Exhilarated. Yet still filled with wary trepidation. The look in Michael's eyes... 'Mahone, if you're lying, I'll rip your fucking heart out with my bare hands.' "Sit, Mike. Tell me, again, what he said. Slowly. Word for word..."
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
They parked the car off the road, and set off through the trees.
"You know, if Sara's alive..."
"...we're not quite the unblessed bastards we think we are?"
Michael smiled in wry acknowledgment. "I'd like to imagine they'd all live a little in her."
"Creepy. But I get it."
"How'd LJ take it? And Sucre? You were right, he needed to hear it from you."
Linc glanced sideways at his brother. "I didn't tell either of 'em," he admitted, flatly.
"What? But why- " Michael stood still. "You're not sure."
"I wanna be. Are you?"
"I choose to have faith."
"You sure it's not just her cousin, Hope?"
"Better than their bitch aunt, Reality," Michael smiled. "She can't always be kicking their asses."
"Huh. Done a fucking good job of it lately..."
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
"There it is."
They crouched, observing the small building, looking for signs of activity. Reaching behind to the small of their backs, they retrieved their guns, and after a few minutes, crept closer. Still silence.
Michael headed to the door, but found his way barred by his brother. "Linc, it's clear. Nobody's around- "
"Mike, let me. Please- "
"Get out of the way- "
"For you. And me. Please."
"You're serious..." Michael trailed off, then frowned. Imagined himself in his brother's place. Having found Vee. "Be careful."
"I will."
Michael's frown deepened. "I'll be waiting. Just- whatever happens- "
"Sounds like auntie's foot's twitching..."
"I'm standing on it as hard as I can," Michael replied, quietly.
Clutching his gun, Linc gripped his brother's head with his free hand. "You know, I think it's gonna be okay, Mike. But wait for my signal. If I'm not out in five minutes, get the hell away."
"Go!"
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
"Have your birdies flown away?"
"No."
"I'm sorry."
Mahone looked away. "Don't love more people than you have to, Michael," he advised, grimly. "You just give Fortune more hostages."
"Alex, if I can help you, I will."
"Thanks," he nodded, before heading to the door, then stopping. "Michael, can I ask you a question?"
"Won't promise you an answer..." he shrugged.
"Would you still have done what you did, if your brother had done what he didn't?"
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Stepping back, Michael began to pace. He brought his arms up around his head, then quickly lowered them at the cold metal shiver of the gun against his skin.
He realised, with sadness, that he hadn't even remembered he held it. What had felt so alien in his hands mere months ago... He returned to stare fixedly at the small opening Lincoln had edged through, intent on the dimness visible.
Hearing something in the distance, he turned towards it. Church bells, probably from the village he and Linc had driven through just recently. He pondered why their ringing sounded so different, today. 'It really doesn't matter, does it? How concrete the sight or familiar the sound, our own reality always colours what we see and hear.' This day's tolling had become a clarion to him. But to others, what? A simple call to worship? Maybe celebration. A death knell for the soon departed. Or sad remembrance of things past-
"Michael."
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
"All in one piece, Lincoln, promise! I'm sorry you had to go through all...that." She stepped back, looking anxious. "Where's Michael? Why- "
"He's fine, Doc - waiting outside for my signal."
She started for the door, stopping short as Lincoln blocked her way.
"Doc. Let me. Please." Linc caught the echo of his earlier words, and another frown. "I don't know that I'll ever forget Michael's face when I had to tell him...about you. Before." He looked at her weary face. "Let me tell him, again. About you now."
Sara nodded. "Go."
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Lincoln re-appeared, and watched silently. 'Now, that's a photo you'd keep, bro'.' He coughed loudly. "Guys, we gotta leave."
The couple stepped apart, smiling, and the three headed to the back and Sara's car.
Pausing at the rear exit, Michael and Linc once again reached around to draw their weapons, and watched in surprised silence as Sara pulled one out from one of her boots.
She read the sad expression in Michael's eyes. "I know..."
As he stepped through the doorway, Michael's arm caught a glancing blow from Linc's fist. "What the- "
"That's for waiting three minutes longer than I told you to!"
Sara followed Michael out, but paused as Linc leant down to whisper, "Thanks, Doc. For the new memory."
"Hope for some more," she smiled, wistfully.
As he brought up the rear, he remembered, "Hey, Doc, got a camera in your other boot?"
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Bit puzzled at some of the reaction to Series 4 big news. It wasn't SWC's head the audience and DP saw, so why couldn't it be the same scenario for Lincoln with Sara's? Ah, well, my take.