Title:
What I Did On My Winter Hiatus
Author:
Cazzie
Summary:
We catch up on what our favourite fugitives and their friends have
been up to since the events of The Killing Box. Not based on any
spoilers.
Rating: T.
This fic contains scenes of a sexual nature and a few examples of bad
language. But to be honest, if you're too young to be reading this
you're too young to be watching Prison Break in the first place.
Disclaimer: I do not own Prison Break. I am not making any money from this.
Now that that's all out of the way, on with the story….
"Dammit, Mike! I can't do it!"
"Yes you can. Come on, I'll help you."
"It's hopeless. I've been trying all my life and it's just not possible."
Of course it is. I do it, don't I?"
"But you're a genius; of course YOU can do it."
"I'm not giving up on you, Linc. Now let's try again. Start with the bottom one and move up."
Lincoln began buttoning his shirt.
First the bottom button, easy. Then the next, still doing well. Then came the third, here his hands began to shake and it took a couple of goes before the shirt came together. Michael held his breath in anticipation, hoping that this would be it, but like all the times before Lincoln stumbled on the next one. After a number of unsuccessful tries, he growled in frustration and threw his hands up.
"See! You see! It's impossible. I just can't do it."
"I can." The voice didn't belong to either of the brothers; rather it came from the man tied to a chair in the corner of the room.
"We weren't talking to you," Michael growled at the man.
"I'm just saying, maybe your brute of a brother needs to take a lesson from me." The man smirked evilly.
"Remind me why we didn't gag him?" Lincoln asked, not looking up from his intense concentration on his shirt.
"Because the bondage shop was all out," Michael answered logically. "And the rope was expensive enough as it is."
"Worth it though." The man spoke up evilly. "Feels like silk on my skin."
"Shame," Michael muttered.
"Aren't you going to ask me what I know?" The man spoke up evilly again. "After everything I've done I'd have thought you'd be desperate for me to reveal all my secrets."
"Ok, what are your secrets?" Michael decided to play along for a while.
"I like the movie Titanic and my middle name is Muriel."
"And that's why we haven't asked you," Michael muttered as he moved over to the desk to stare at his new phone. He'd called Sara six times in the last hour but she hadn't picked up. He'd left her messages asking her to call his new number but still no reply.
He was beginning to wonder if maybe he should entertain the possibility of perhaps being slightly worried.
"Oh, come on. Can't I have a little fun?" The man in the corner called out evilly. "I always imagined being tied up to be a lot more exciting than this. I have to do something to keep myself amused."
"Tell us what you know and maybe I'll give you a bouncy ball." Michael turned around to face him again. "For starters, who the hell are you?"
"I'm Agent Kellerman." The man paused evilly, waiting for a reaction. The brothers just blinked at him. "Kellerman! Come on, you can't tell me you don't know who I am. Lincoln, you know me right?"
"Huh?" Lincoln looked up, confused by the sudden interruption to his intense concentration. He'd nearly got the button touching the hole that time. "Sorry, man. Never heard of you."
Kellerman looked evilly distraught. "Never? What about last year when I almost killed you?"
Lincoln shrugged.
"You're kidding me right? You're freaking kidding me." Kellerman's evil voice rose in evil volume with each passing evil word. "I have been the bane of your existence these past two years! I was instrumental in having you sentenced to death for a murder you didn't commit! I shot your son's stepfather right in the heart and framed LJ for the murder of his own mother! I tried to kill you! I tried to kill you and you don't even remember me? That hurts, man. It really does."
"Sucks to be you, I guess." Lincoln returned his attention to his buttons.
Kellerman began to cry. Evilly.
……
Sara Tancredi was rummaging through a bin. She knew she must look like a hobo with her torn clothes and current activity but she didn't care. That lip gloss was discontinued for god's sake and there was no way she was just going to leave it there.
She sighed in annoyance. This was all Michael's fault. If he hadn't asked her to leave the door open for him, thereby drawing her into his world of deception and conspiracies, her father would never have been killed, she would never have been shot at, she'd never have had to go on the run, never have met up with Michael, never have left him only to decide to go back, never have been picked up by Not-Lance and been tortured for hours before escaping, never have hacked her hair off and never have thrown away her old life. And so she never would have accidentally thrown away her favourite lip gloss at the same time.
Her hand grasped a small round object and she pulled it out triumphantly. Only to grimace in disgust and drop it quickly.
Her search continued.
……
Back in the hotel room, Kellerman had finished his little display of emotion and was back to full blown evilness. He had just finished explaining his situation in The Company as it now stood.
"…and so that's why I want to get back at President Reynolds. I can't bear to spend the rest of my life as a man called Owen who sells jerky."
"Understandable," Michael agreed. "But I am curious as to how you plan to be our inside man when you're very much outside of the conspiracy now."
"I…" Kellerman paused evilly. "…hadn't thought of that."
……
Sucre skipped happily through the Mexican desert before realising that he was in the middle of nowhere with absolutely no means of transport or any idea where anything was.
Crap.
……
C-Note was not happy. His wife had just been arrested and would most likely be going to prison for aiding and abetting a fugitive.
He had drawn up preliminary ideas for finding a way to have himself thrown into the same prison, where he could then dig a hole behind the toilet and break the two of them out. After all, it had worked once before.
Now came the hard part – actually implementing his plan.
……
Many thoughts went through Susan Hollander's head when she noticed her ex-boyfriend standing on her doorstep. The foremost was why hadn't she looked to see who it was before opening the freaking door. You'd think she would be careful about things like that, what with her murderous ex who had explicitly told her he was going to come back for her having just broken out of prison. But no, Susan wasn't too smart.
And for that, T-Bag was grateful. After all, he didn't do breaking and entering. That was just far too beneath a big time criminal like him.
He stood on the doorstep perfecting his creepiness. He was very proud of it and always had to make sure everything was just right – his voice, his stance, his expression.
While he was doing that, Susan shut the door.
T-Bag swore under his breath and rang the doorbell again.
"Who is it?" Susan called from inside.
"Food delivery man," T-Bag called back.
"Oh thank goodness." Susan opened the door. "My ex was just here and…"
T-Bag smiled.
……
Sara lifted her hand in success. Her lip gloss was back in her possession. She opened her bag to store it safely away and noticed the phone she hadn't thrown away, the one she had bought with Michael.
"Ten missed called?" Sara murmured, dialling the number for her mailbox.
"Hey, Sara. It's me, uh, Michael. Just calling to see what's up. Uh, call me back on this number."
"Hey Sara, me again. Say, you don't happen to have a USB drive with you, do you? Call me."
"Sara, hi. Where are you?"
"Geez, turn your phone on once in a while, will you?"
"Congratulations! You are our million dollar prize winner! To collect your winnings, dial this number and CALL ME BACK."
"Saaaaaarrrrrrraaaaa. Oh, Saaaaaarrrrraaaaa. Caaaaallllll Miiiiicccchhhhaaaeeellll."
"Doc? It's Lincoln. Mike wanted me to try to call again while he's busy talking to this guy we picked up. Wait a sec… Oh, the guy wants to know if you want some pie? Wait, what…?"
"Hey, it's me again. What's the deal with you and this Kellerman guy? Did you cheat on me while I was on the run? I can't believe you!"
"Uh…sorry about that last message. I got a bit more information out of him and, well, sorry. By the way, nice work with the iron."
"Are you ignoring me? I said I was sorry."
The beep signalling the end of all the messages caught Sara slightly off guard and she lowered the phone slowly, trying to make sense of everything.
The first thought that ran though her head was that Not-Lance was with Michael and his name was actually Kellerman. The second thought was that Michael could be really, really clingy.
She moved into a deserted alley and dialled the number of the previous calls.
……
To Be Continued…
