Title: Coward
Character/Pairing: T-Bag
Prompt: #027. Parents
Rating: R. Moderate swearing. Death. Bit o' groping.
Summary: "A couple of inches of iron won't stop me, Bellick."
Author's Notes: Bellick is such an instigator. -Also posted on the Prison Break 100 Livejournal community and Prison Break Fic-
Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break. Wish I did, but I don't.

It was a small scrap. Five, six cons, maybe seven, but T-Bag wasn't counting. He wasn't focused on the number of cons in the fight. He was waiting and looking for one con in particular.

He knocked an inmate down as the man advanced on him. Someone from the Alliance tackled a black inmate attempting to join in the scrap. T-Bag whirled to his left and shoved a shank deep into the gut of a rughead, his hand holding tight on the man's shoulder as he twisted and wrenched the shank for maximum effect. Blood splattered across the bottom of T-Bag's shirt as he yanked the shank out. The rughead fell, crimson staining his shirt and bubbling past his lips. T-Bag would have loved to watch him bleed out but there was no time for that.

"T! Behind you!"

T-Bag spun and narrowly avoided another rughead. Grinning, T-Bag rushed the larger man and tackled him. His shank sank deep into the rughead's chest. The rughead retaliated, slamming his fist into T-Bag's skull and sending him skidding across the concrete. The edges of T-Bag's vision darkened and he blinked, hoping to stay the darkness.

The darkness receded and T-Bag hopped to his feet. The rughead was already barreling toward him, his bleeding torso not a concern.

Bloody shank in hand, T-Bag growled and side-stepped the rughead, catching his right arm and burying the shank in his side—a kidney hit, no doubt.

Something pierced T-Bag's shoulder but he had so much adrenaline pumping through his veins now he barely noticed. Instead, he ripped the shank through the rughead's flesh, toward his stomach. Maybe if he created a large enough hole, he could pull something out. Scare the fucking shit outta the nigger, Theo smirked, if his guts were spillin' out a hole in his side.

T-Bag's vision swam suddenly and the base of his skull throbbed.

Wham!

He lost his grip on the shank as his knees weakened and the darkness took over.

"Think I might sue, boss."

Bellick pushed T-Bag along.

"Think I might have permanent brain damage."

"You were brain damaged before I hit you."

"I didn't have a concussion before ya hit me."

T-Bag held a hand to his forehead. A large bruise had spread from his temple down to his eye. His head felt heavy and the three afflicted areas across it were throbbing, giving him a migraine. He wasn't sure, but there was a chance he had multiple stitches near the top of his skull. He'd been so disorientated while in the infirmary, he could have sworn Sara had two twin sisters.

He remembered Sara shaking her head, then doing a quick assessment as the other combatants were dragged in. She'd asked him how many fingers she was holding up. "Twelve, Doc," he'd answered, then succumbed to the darkness again.

She'd removed half of a broken lightbulb from his shoulder, then stitched him up. T-Bag couldn't remember much else, besides watching with blurred vision the nurse, Katie, and a C.O. try to stop that rughead from bleeding to death as they wheeled him from the infirmary out to a helicopter.

Sara had mentioned something about the rughead's chances of surviving to Bellick during one of T-Bag's conscious moments, but T-Bag was sketchy on the details. He hoped the rughead bled to death before they got him to the hospital, else he'd have to go at him again.

Bellick shoved T-Bag into a small cell with enough room for a bed, toilet and sink. "In ya go, Bagwell."

T-Bag dropped to the concrete floor, coming down hard on his knees. He was still dizzy, disorientated and Bellick's sudden shove had caused a loss of balance, a weakening of his knees. Turning his head and glaring at Bellick, T-Bag asked, "How long, boss?"

"Coupla months." The thick iron door slammed shut. T-Bag made his way to it and leaned back against the metal.

T-Bag listened to Bellick's footsteps as he walked down the row of cells. He stopped to chat with another C.O. and T-Bag eavesdropped.

"Yeah," Bellick was saying, "the inbred'll be here for a little while. Try not to let him bother you."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Captain," the other C.O. answered curtly.

More footsteps, then the unmistakable sound of a door opening and closing. T-Bag smiled; Bellick was gone and in his stead, a rookie C.O.

Step. Step. Step.

T-Bag pressed his cheek against the metal and dug his nails under the flap in the food slot. He pulled it open and carefully peered out.

The C.O. slowly paced by.

T-Bag slipped his arm through the slot and grabbed onto the C.O.'s pant leg when he neared.

"Hey, boss—"

Whack!

T-Bag cursed and pulled his arm back through the slot, now sporting a baton shaped welt.

"Keep your hands offa me, Bagwell." The C.O. slammed his baton against the door and continued walking.

T-Bag laughed and called out, "You afraid of me, boss?"

"Shut it, Bagwell."

"We have a problem here?" Bellick had returned.

"No problem at all, boss," T-Bag answered, smiling to himself.

Bellick was standing outside T-Bag's cell now. He rapped his baton against the door. "Bagwell, there's something I've always wondered. . . ."

"What's that, boss?"

"Why did your daddy rape your momma, anyway, huh? Why'd he rape his own mongoloid sister?"

T-Bag stiffened and didn't answer.

"I hear he molested you. That right, Bagwell? Your psych profile says you were beat, too."

T-Bag wondered if he could pull off one of the pipes under the sink and beat Bellick's skull in with it. He licked his lips, smiling at the thought. He wondered if when he cracked Bellick's head open and pulled away all the skin and bone, if there would even be a brain there.

He almost hoped there was. He'd never seen the inside of someone's head before, always preferred seeing their insides southward.

"Says you only do what you do because you were deprived. You're just lookin' for a little attention."

"Come here, Teddy."

"That why you raped all those kids?"

"Teddy."

"You jack off every time you read the newspaper and they mentioned something about those kids being missing?"

"Why'd you do it, Teddy?"

"You're just an inbred—"

"Tell me, Teddy."

"—attention-seeking—"

"'Cause I wanted you to know—"

"—miserable—"

"—how much I—"

"—fuck."

"—hate you."

"You don't hate me." He pushes Teddy farther up the wall. "You enjoy what I do to you too much. You love what I do to you, don't you, boy?"

"I hate it and I hate you!"

Twelve year-old Teddy involuntarily gasps as his daddy gropes him.

"See? Look at you! You love it!"

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

Daddy leans his head in close to Teddy's ear and whispers, "Kill me, then."

"Bet you feel pretty safe on the other side o' that door, don't ya?" T-Bag clenched his fists and dug his nails into the palms of his hands until he was bleeding. "A couple of inches of iron won't stop me, Bellick."

"I will!"

Daddy pulls out a knife and lets Teddy slide to the ground. He tosses the knife at Teddy's feet. "Do it. Kill me, boy."

Teddy grabs the knife and stands, staring up defiantly at Daddy.

He tenses as Daddy gives him a knowing smirk. He raises the knife up, prepared to shove it into Daddy's chest, just like he did to Daddy's dog.

Daddy steps forward as Teddy trembles. He wraps his fingers around Teddy's wrist and pulls the knife up to his chest, pressing the point against his skin.

"Come on, boy. All ya gotta do is push it in."

"Shut up!" Teddy's voice cracks and he bites his lip.

"What? You afraid to kill a man, Teddy? You afraid to kill your Daddy?"

Teddy closes his eyes.

"You a coward, Teddy? Cowards kill other men's dogs, Teddy." Daddy rips the knife from Teddy's grip and slams him back against the wall. "The fearless kill the men."

"I'm not a coward!"

"You couldn't kill me, could ya? You could kill my dog, but ya couldn't kill me." Daddy presses the knife against Teddy's throat and shoves his other hand down Teddy's pants.

"You are a coward, boy, and that's all you'll ever be."

As Bellick's footsteps faded away, Teddy was satisfied in knowing he wasn't a coward anymore.