Fallen
#15
Sucre was making his way to the visitation area wondering who his visitor was. Best case scenario, it was Maricruz coming to tell him that she had turned Hector down. Worst case scenario, it was Hector saying that she hadn't. A small weight was lifted off of his shoulders as he bypassed the "cage" indicating that it would be an open visitation. This also meant that his visitor was not Hector. He searched the room, no Maricruz either.
"Over there in the black a white suit." The guard said pointing to the far corner of the room. Sitting at the small table was a young woman, hands clasped on top of a folder, as she gazed out of the barred window.
Movement to my left caught my attention as I turned to see a Puerto Rican man making his way toward me. "Mr. Sucre?" I said as I stood to greet him, hand extended. He nodded wearily, taking my hand. "My name is Lyndi Deacon; it's a pleasure to meet you." I said as we both sat. He gave me a confused look, it made me wonder when the last time was that he had received this much respect. There was a moment of silence before he decided to speak. "You want to talk about Burrows huh?" he asked. I smiled warmly "Actually, I wanted to speak about you." "What do you mean?" he asked once more confused by my words. "Well, first off I wanted to congratulate you on your engagement and impending fatherhood." Perhaps I should have explained myself better before going for the throat. The last thing I wanted him to think was that I was stalking his loved ones or threatening them. "How do you know about that?" he asked defensively. "Lincoln told me." I replied honestly. "Why would he do that? You're writing a paper about him, not me." I looked around making sure that there was no one listening in on our conversation. "I'm not writing a paper on Lincoln. I'm not even a student at Loyola. I grew up with Lincoln; he's like a big brother to me." I explained. "Then you know Michael?" he inquired. "Yes, I know him. Frankly, he is why I am talking to you." I said. "If you know him, then why did he act like he didn't know who you were whenever Lincoln mentioned you?" he asked with reasonable suspicion. "Scofield doesn't know me as Lyndi Deacon. I changed my name when I moved away.". "So, why don't you just talk to him about whatever it is you want to know?". "I don't want him to know that I'm back. So I'm asking you to please don't tell him. Besides, he would never tell me what I need to know.". "Which would be what?" he asked. "I know that he is planning something to either halt or prevent Lincoln's execution altogether. I need you to tell me what that plan is." I said. "What makes you think that I know?" he asked. "You have an hour of yard time daily, and not only are you and Scofield cellmates you work P.I. together. Something tells me that you two see an awful lot of each other!" I explained. "Hey! Me and Fish may be cellies but we don't roll like that!" He exclaimed in an offended tone. I paused, what the hell was he talking about? Then it hit me. "Oh God! No, that's so completely not what I meant! I just meant that it would be virtually impossible for either of you to pull something big like that off without the other knowing!" I said making clear that I did not think that he and Scofield were… Well, you know. "Oh, right." He replied a little embarrassed. "So you've already talked to Lincoln. Why didn't he tell you what the plan is?" he asked. "He said that he promised Scofield not to tell anyone about it. He values his brother's trust, therefore he wouldn't tell me." I explained. "So if Linc served as an older brother to you, then did Michael too?" He was curious, and it was killing me! I hesitated; I did not want to talk about the relationship with my own sister, let alone a complete stranger. "No." I answered. "Then you were what?" he asked. I gave him a "Take a wild guess" look. Luckily, he picked up on it. "Ooooh!" he said with quiet comprehension. "So are we gonna finish twenty questions or are you gonna give me the info I need?" I snapped. "I'll think about giving you the info if you can prove that you know Michael." He replied. I sighed, opened up the folder and pushed it across the table. Paper clipped to the top of the folder was a picture of Michael and I. Lincoln had taken it on a camping trip that the three of us and L.J had taken a couple of weeks before Lincoln was arrested. In the picture Michael was holding me bridal style near the edge of the lake dock; Lincoln snapped it right before Michael threw me in. Of course, he decided to toss me in fully clothed, shoes and all.
Sucre studied the picture for a moment longer before closing the folder and pushing it back to me. "Times up!" The guard yelled. "Think this over; I'll be back at the same time tomorrow. If anyone asks we talked about Lincoln and nothing more. And not a word about this to Scofield." I said while standing up and gathering my things. "Got it." Sucre assured me before he made his way back to A-wing, and I made mine back home.