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Warning: contains reference to information revealed in episode "And Them There Were 7"
Fallen #29
I had just waked up from the best night's sleep that I'd had since I returned to Chicago. Funny isn't it? The first time I get some good rest is when I'm in a house full of escaped convicts! I wasn't going to get out of bed until the red glow of my clock assaulted my eyes. Finally, after my eyes adjusted I could see that the clock read 4:15p.m, no wonder I had slept so good. Slowly, I rose from my bed and prepared myself to greet the day. What was left of it anyway.
The house was silent, it would have been eerie had I not known that chances were that everyone else was still sleeping. Well, almost everyone. I walked into the kitchen, surprised to find Westmoreland sitting on a stool at the counter, coffee and newspaper in hand. "Good morning, Mr. Westmoreland!" I said with a yawn as I made my way to the refrigerator. "Good morning, Ms. Deacon… If that is your real name… Please, call me Charles." He said with a smile as he looked at me over his paper. I laughed and grabbed some juice from the fridge, then made my way to the stool next to his. "Alright, Charles" I said pouring my juice, "It's Donovan by the way, preferably Cali." I informed him. I wanted none of that Ms. stuff; it was too formal for my liking. Plus, it made me feel old! "Well that's good to hear! For a second there I thought I was seeing dead people." He said with a chuckle. "You saw that huh?" I asked smirking. "I did… How did you pull that off?" He asked with genuine interest. "I didn't." I answered truthfully. He gave me a quizzical look but did not press the issue further. There was a moment of silence before I realized that I had an idea as to why everyone had chosen to escape, except for Charles and T-Bag, too bad I didn't care why T-Bag had done it huh? "So, why'd you do it?... Escape I mean… If you don't mind me asking." I asked as I finished my juice. Sighing he folded the newspaper, setting it aside along with his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and looked at me. I could tell that it wasn't something that he wanted to talk to, and I was not going to force him into it. "You don't have to tell me, it's none of my business anyway." I said as I stood to put my glass in the sink. Once again there was silence, and just as I thought that he was not going to tell me, he began to speak.
"It's my daughter; she's the only child I have. Well, she's sick and doesn't have much time left. Since I'm considered a flight risk, they were only going to allow me to leave for her funeral." He said in a sad tone. I made my way back to the stool and took a seat. "I'm sorry Charles… I didn't mean to pry, it's just I know why everyone else did it, so I was curious." I said quietly. "Do you know why T-Bag did it?" He asked. I looked up and shook my head "Between you and me, I don't care why he broke out. If it were up to me, he'd still be in there." I answered in a brutally honest tone. "Anyway, where does your daughter live?" I asked in a more upbeat tone than the one I used to speak my least favorite escapee. He gave me a confused look "Why?" he asked. I laughed and smiled "I can't get you to her, if I don't know where she is!" I said. He gave me a grateful smile and we began making plans to get him on his way.
L.J. woke up to the smell of coffee and food. He didn't know what kind of food, he didn't care. It was food and he was hungry. He rolled on his side, searching for a clock. As luck would have it he found it facing where his father slept, he was foolish to think that he would have been able to see it without having to move a limb or two. Slowly, he stretched his arm out grasping for the clock. His finger tips barely brushed against it; alerting him to the sad realization that he was going to have to exert a little more effort. He drew his arm back, scooted down so that his feet were touching the footboard of the bed, and launched himself at the bedside table, intending to just reach the clock and turn it. However, some things just don't go as planned. He reached the bedside table, but didn't stop there. Landing with a thud he hit the ground, clock in hand.
Charles and I sat in the kitchen chatting about this, that, and the other thing, when we heard a loud thump come from upstairs. We exchanged a curious glance before bolting upstairs. We could hear a ruckus coming from the bedroom that was directly above mine, but could not make out the words or voices of those inside. I extended my hand slowly and grasped the doorknob. I inhaled deeply and held my breath, not knowing what to expect once the door was opened.
The door gently swung open revealing nothing but total darkness and a great deal of laughter. I reached for the light switch and flipped it on. "What the hell is going on in here?" I asked sound more like my mother than I ever wanted to. The laughter came to an abrupt end and three sets of eyes immediately set on Charles and I. There was a pause, not unlike that of a group of children who had just got in trouble and was waiting for the culprit to confess. "I, uh, fell" L.J. said from the spot where he lay on the floor, alarm clock gripped tightly in his hand. "You fell?" I asked incredulously, with a smirk. "Yes, I fell! It's not the first time." L.J. said embarrassed. "You don't wanna go around telling people that." I joked as he climbed back onto his bed. "You made me crash last time!" He exclaimed putting an emphasis on the word "you". I laughed "Yes, well you crashed all on your own this time." I said mocking him. He just glared before plopping back on his pillows.
Charles took a seat in the chair that Sucre had occupied the night before, while Lincoln lay on his bed, Scofield sitting with his feet dangling down from his loft, and I stood a few feet in front of the door. "Well, well, well, who's this?" T-Bag asked suddenly appearing from behind me as he gestured to L.J. As he began making his way toward L.J. I knew that if he got so much as 10 feet of the kid Lincoln would kill him, so I grabbed him rather than get a carpet that did not belong to me bloody. "This" I said indicating L.J. "is off limits." T-Bag stopped dead in his tracks and turned on me. He took a few steps toward me, leaving so little room that had I an imaginary friend, they would have been squished. "No need to get jealous, darlin." He said running a hand up my arm and to my neck, "There's plenty of ol' T-Bag to go 'round!" He finished, drawing his face closer to mine. I gave him the most seductive look I could muster and put my mouth to his ear. "After your time in Fox River, I'm surprised that there's any of you left." I whispered wickedly. He took a few steps away; I had obviously hit a nerve. The others look on in horror as if they had expected me to jump him right then and there; obviously they didn't hear my comment. "You'll want to watch what you say to me in the future, girly. You never know when you're words will come back and bite ya in that pretty little ass of yours." He said licking his lips as he walked past me and headed for the door. "Bagwell!" I said turning to face him "Touch him… And I'll kill you myself." I promised him my words dripping with venom. "I'd like to see you try." He said leaning on the door frame. "I won't have to." I replied smirking.