The Price We Pay
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Prison Break and I'm not making any money from this fic
Summary: Shortly after Michael gets himself sent to the prison, Lincoln lets his brother know exactly what he thinks of that
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the first couple of episodes of season one
Author's Note: This is written for Supergirl... Sorry it took me a while to write
Now that Michael was actually in the prison, he wasn't ready to relax – at all. Getting himself locked up had been the easy part. Now, he had to worry about the actual escaping part.
And like all things at the moment, planning the escape had been much easier while he was outside and able to see things from all angles. Now that he was inside the prison, it was difficult to see anything other than the walls surrounding him. It was enough to make him feel almost claustrophobic.
There was also the fact that, sooner or later, Michael was going to have to face his brother; and that didn't appeal to him at all. If Lincoln had had his way, he would be dead soon. But Michael wasn't going to let that happen. He knew that Lincoln was innocent, and he had no intention of letting his brother die if he could do anything to stop it.
And thankfully, he could. But first, he had to get past the inevitable confrontation.
Removing his shirt, Michael checked the pattern he'd had tattooed over his whole torso. He knew the pattern off by heart now – and what each part meant – but it was always a good idea to run through the plan in his mind and make sure there were no holes in it. He was pretty sure he'd thought of everything, but...
Well, he was here now. And he was just going to have to deal with any problems which arose.
"What are you doing here, Michael?"
Including that one. Michael turned to face his brother, drawing himself up to his full height and reminding himself that they weren't children anymore, and Lincoln couldn't intimidate him. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
Lincoln narrowed his eyes. "I didn't want you to come and get me out." Seemingly unconsciously, his hands twitched in the direction of his belt.
The movement didn't go unnoticed by Michael, who again reminded himself that they weren't children anymore. He remembered the last time he'd been thrashed by his brother – and it wasn't a pleasant memory. "Is that everything?"
"Not quite." Lincoln removed his belt and doubled it.
Despite himself, Michael started backing away. "I'm not going to let you do that to me."
"Well, unless you do, I'm not going to be escaping with you." Lincoln advanced on his brother. "Turn around and put your hands on the wall."
Briefly, Michael toyed with the idea of resisting. But he wasn't sure he could convince Lincoln to come with him otherwise. Slowly, he turned and placed his hands on the wall, leaning forward slightly. He did wonder if Lincoln was going to hit his back, but the next moment, he felt his trousers and briefs get pulled down.
Though that was almost a relief, Michael was concerned about the fact that he was now mostly naked; and hoped that no one chose the next few minutes to come into his cell. That thought was driven from his mind, however, when he felt the cool leather against his bottom.
When the belt was removed, Michael tensed up automatically – but he was still surprised by just how much it hurt when the belt landed. He grunted, and managed to resist the urge to reach back.
For the next few moments, the thrashing continued in silence. Michael felt the heat growing in his backside, and he clenched his hands into tight fists.
Finally, a few tears escaped Michael. As if that was what his brother had been waiting for, Lincoln delivered one final – much harder – strike with the belt, and then put his hand on Michael's shoulder. "It's all right. It's over now."
Michael leaned his head against the wall and just listened to his brother.
The End