Fallen
#12
Michael and Sucre stood against the fence, where on a regular day they would talk with Lincoln. "You're worrying over nothing, Papi!" Sucre sighed; he had spent ever since P.I ended the day before up until now listening to Michael blab about Lincoln agreeing to speak with Lindy Deacon.
"You don't know that! For all we know about her she could come in here and try to take Lincoln out." He knew that he was being irrational. There was maybe a point one percent chance that she was there to hurt Lincoln, but something in him didn't believe her story.
"How's she going to do that? In case you forgot. We. Are. In. Prison. I think they would notice if some chica tried waltzing in guns blazing!" Sucre exclaimed. Michael just sighed before turning to the small yard that Lincoln should have been standing in.
"Where's Linc?" Westmoreland asked as he approached the fence. "He's talking with some girl about his case. It's for some school paper or something." Sucre answered hoping that would end the discussion so Michael wouldn't get started again. "A school news paper?" Westmoreland asked. "Lyndi Deacons term paper." Michael spat ferociously. Westmoreland smiled and nodded. "Ah Ms. Deacon huh?" He asked. Michael's eyes snapped to the infamous D.B Cooper. "You know her?" he asked anxiously. "No, she was in the Wardens office the other day. Poor girl, Bellick kept eyeing her." Westmoreland answered shaking his head.
"Good, you've seen her. Tell me in one on one combat who'd take who? Linc or the girl?" Sucre asked sarcastically. Westmoreland laughed and looked at Michael. "You've got nothing to worry about, kid."
Lincoln sat in "The Cage" as it was called, waiting for his visitor. He studied the other inmates as they were greeted by their loved ones. There were hugs, hand shakes, kisses, tears, and laughter. He envied them. They could all look forward to the next visit from their friends or families; he wasn't so sure there would be a next time for him. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in Michael or his plan, but there were still things that could go wrong.
"Mr. Burrows?"
That voice, it was familiar, but different. It held more knowledge, more age, more pain, then it did the last time he had heard it. Slowly his eyes rose from the spot on the floor they had been focused on. White high heels, white pants and a white blazer, both with emerald green pinstripes, a green tank top underneath, and an all too familiar pair of blue eyes. His heart jumped, he didn't think he would ever see the little sister he never had again. I smiled weakly as I took my seat on the other side of the glass.
"Lyndi Deacon" he asked trying not to smirk. I chuckled, "That's right." The two guards nearest us were enthralled in their own conversation allowing me to get down to business.
"How are you?" I know, stupid question right? I could see how he was doing. He had lost weight, his skin had a sallow tint to it, he looked exhausted, and the only thing his eyes held was sorrow.
"I'm ok. Better now that I know you're here and safe, but why are you here?" he asked. I wasn't going to lie to him, it wouldn't work anyway. I looked into his eyes, knowing that I was going to give him the answer he didn't want me to. \
"You saved my life once; I'm just repaying the favor."