Genre: General
Summary: To bond or not to bond? What can happen when you decide to share.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Prison Break? Not mine.

A/N: Not my usual style - written for a dialogue only challenge. It was difficult, especially not being able to describe how they speak! Feedback, as always, is much appreciated!

"Well, maybe next year..."

"Or the year after, or the year after that - the eternal cry of the Cubs' fan!"

"Do you suppose that's where Dad got his whole 'you've got to have faith' philosophy?"

"Dunno. Could be. God, knows he loved them. Every April, there he'd be, buying the new season's gear. Supporting the loser team..."

"As his sons continue to do. That's the thing about winning, though, isn't it? Somebody has to lose- "

"Thank you, Dad!"

"It's true. Winners, losers. Give, take. Yin, Yang. Recipro- OW!"

"I told you what I'd do if you said that shit again!"

"No, you didn't!"

"What, I have to spell everything out, now?"

"If it saves me from assault..."

"Too slow, that was always your problem. Anyway, where were we?"

"Cubs in the World Series."

"Oh, yeah - dreaming! No, before that... Got it. LJ. How the hell'd we end up with the Cubs? So, anyway, there we were having this father/son talk, and it turned to girls- "

"There's a surprise."

"Are you gonna keep interrupting? Cause we'll be here for a long time, if you are."

"Must've been a long talk..."

"Not that one - the one we're gonna have."

"What- "

"Clock's ticking..."

"Fine! You'll let me know when I'm allowed to speak, won't you?"

"Ha ha. So, I asked him how long he'd - you know - known about girls, and he said thirteen- "

"Thirteen? Oh, sorry - may I?"

"You really want me to hit you? Cause- "

"No. But thanks for checking. Nice change..."

"Bastard. So, yeah, thirteen. I didn't know whether to high-five him, or kick into a frank, consoling discussion on women and sex and all the ins and outs."

"So to speak. Was- Did he seem...okay about it all?"

"Yeah, seemed fine. Joked about how she'd really earned her fees for tutoring."

"Ah, his French tutor. Lisa would've been so pissed off!"

"You knew her? What's she like?"

"Only met her a couple of times - seemed kind. Smart. Maybe three, four years older than LJ. Nice kid. LJ's lucky."

"Lucky. What do you mean, Michael?"

"Oh, you know - could've been some booze fuelled night on the town - a stripper, prostitute, whatever."

"Huh. Kinda leads to our talk. When was your first time, Mike?"

"What?"

"You heard."

"We're not having this discussion, Lincoln."

"Why not? If...things...had been different, we'd probably have had it years ago. Aw, come on, bro!"

"Wait, are we bonding here?"

"Bonding? What are we? Girls? No, we're not...bonding... It's, you know, guy stuff."

"Uh huh. Bonding. So, did LJ beat his dad?"

"Matter of fact, yeah, he did. By a couple of years. Bet it was comfier, too!"

"Okay, where and who? I thought I knew, but..."

"Wrigley. Visitors' dug-out. After hours. Man, it was close - another two minutes and we'd have been caught! Shit, I nearly pissed my pants - not that they were on! Funny now, but at the time... Oh, and it wasn't Vee."

"No, I realised. It would've meant she was only- "

"Thirteen. It was one of the young Wrigley attendants - Diana? Dinah? Dina? Something like that. Not drunk, not a ho. Nice. Always slipped me extra fries. No, Vee wasn't my first. But I was hers. Her sixteenth birthday."

"Linc- "

"She made us wait till then. Didn't want any chance of me getting into more trouble. She was so happy - said it was me or no- "

"Don't, Linc! This was supposed to be about your first time, not Vee's."

"Okay, okay! Dunno why you're so friggin' touchy about all this..."

"I'm not, it's just- Sorry, I know you want to talk about her - so do I - but not this... It isn't right."

"No. Sorry."

"Don't be - I'm glad you had each other. Anyway, it's getting dark - better head back."

"Ha! Nice try, no dice - we're not leaving till you spill. Sara'll just have to- "

"Don't even think of bringing Sara into this!"

"Woah! No need, unless..."

"Oh, please, you have got to be kidding!"

"Hell, yes! Chicks have been after you since you were a young teenager - you just never seemed to notice. Oblivious, Vee used to say. So, details?

"I wasn't oblivious - just...careful. And, alright, since I don't want to be here all night... "

"Yeeeah? And? God, like getting blood out of a friggin' stone!"

"Wait, I'm trying to remember- "

"That's crap, Mike - nobody forgets their first time!"

"Fifteen."

"Magic number! I'd have been twenty, right? Not so magic - that was when all that shit with me, Vee and Lisa was going down. Now, who?"

"Linc, promise you won't be angry?"

"What?"

"Promise you won't get angry or upset."

"Why are you whispering, Mike? What- Why the hell would I be angry? Michael?

"Promise!"

"Goddamit, Michael, what- "

"Please, Linc, promise me! Promise you won't- "

"NO! No way! Oh, no fucking way!"

"Linc!"

"Jesus Christ, you're my brother! You knew how I felt about her!"

"Let go - you're hurting my arm!"

"Hurting your arm? I want to beat the living shit out of you! But me aside - fuck, Michael, how could you? She was like a sister to you! How- Why- "

"You promised, Linc- "

"No! I didn't! Not a frigging thing! I didn't say- Oh. Christ, Michael, you're lying! No, scratch that - lying would mean saying something and you haven't said anything. You just let me jump to conclusions... Are you fucking crazy? Why the hell would you want to make me so angry with you? Do you know how close you came to- "

"Can we just stop, Linc? Please?"

"No, we can't. Why, Mike? Christ Almighty, if you really didn't want to share, okay - but, why choose to make me angry? Want me to blame you? What the hell?"

"I told you I didn't want to do this, Lincoln!"

"Yeah, you did and I'm sorry, but it's too late, now. Truth, Michael! How old were you? Mike? Please."

"Twelve. I was twelve. Nearly."

"Still eleven? Oh, Michael, no - please, tell me you're lying! I was in goddamned juvi, again, wasn't I? Christ, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"No! No, Linc, it's not your fault- "

"Of course, it's my fucking fault - I wasn't there, Michael! That's the whole point - you're my little brother and I wasn't there to protect you!"

"You were still a kid yourself - you shouldn't have had to!"

"Maybe not, but I should've and I didn't. Who, Mike? Fuck, it wasn't- "

"No, Linc, I swear it wasn't anything like that. Promise me you won't blame yourself! Promise?"

"Promise. You'll tell me the truth?"

"Promise."

"Okay."

"It was my foster-mother. Sh- She told me I was her only comfort... that I owed her. No, don't. Please, Linc, don't...it's okay. It's okay. I'm okay..."