Series: Time To Go II ( 1? )
Author: Pamala Category: Angst/Romance/Adventure Spoilers: Gonna help a lot to have read the first story: Time to Go" I Rating: PG Disclaimer: I know they're not mine. I'm old and tired so, PTB, please don't slap me around for playing with your toys.
Authors notes: I'm clearly nuts to start this again. A sequel is never as good as the original? But hey I promised to step back in and clean up the mess I made over the summer so here I am. Two chapters a week to start now and again at the end, the rest one a week each Monday just like before.
Thanks: To snowwhite22 and missmazzie for being willing to jump in and do beta work on this story even if they know how long, difficult and drawn out the job is gonna be. You guys are the best!
Last time: ( Way back in March ) Framed for T bags murder Michael set off for Mexico alone. Six months pass by before Lincoln discovers Sara is pregnant with Michael's child and vows to do whatever it takes to find Michael and bring him home.
Chapter #1 " You Can't Go. "
It's the little things, finding the screen unlocked, the door behind it standing wide open, that hit me hardest as I take in the reality of Lincoln Burrows living his life as a free man.
Spending months cautiously tucked away behind drawn blinds and locked doors in the beginning, I can see him slowly begin to accept this new life.
Shouting his name through the partially open door prompts a loud-booming,
"Hey V, come on in. I'm back here ... bedroom" from the back of the house.
As I move through his home, I can't help smiling at the comfortable surroundings.
Stopping for a moment, running my hand along the soft leather of the overstuffed sofa, something all Linc, fitting of him in every way, my mind drifts back to the first time I saw it less than a month back. It was a turning point for him. It made me feel good seeing him so genuinely pleased by the simple notion of having matching living room furniture for the first time in his life.
It's something I'll never forget because it was that moment I started to believe he'd begun to accept, even look forward to, his life outside prison.
" Don't even think about it! " The nearness of his voice pulls my eyes upward from the rich burgundy leather to see him standing in the doorway, eyeing me with the bright smile I've only just begun to become accustom to. " No sense getting attached. I love that couch, I'm gonna have them bury me in it."
" I thought you were gonna be buried in the king size bed? "
Correcting me over his shoulder as he turns to walk away, his warm laughter - something I'll never get enough of - makes the smile on my face grow wider than I thought possible. " No. NO! You got it wrong! I'll die in the bed and have them bury me in the couch. Hey, grab yourself a cup off coffee and meet me in the bedroom. We can talk there... kind of in a rush... need to get packed. "
Discovering a dab of sticky jelly on the countertop, surely from one the sandwiches Lincoln says LJ eats two or three of at a time these days, I pour my coffee and I'm surprised to find the cabinet below containing the cleaning products locked up tight with a plastic child safety device.
Frustrated at trying to find a way in, I can't help but feel hopeful seeing yet another glaring, sweet fact that he's jumped the gun. He's excited for Sara's baby, one that won't be able to roll over, let alone reach a cabinet, for a long time to come. The arrival he's begun thinking about, acting on such measures so far in advance, is another reminder of Lincoln's new found willingness to embrace the future.
Inexperience leaving me unable to open it, another hint I don't need that my biological clock is ticking loud enough to be heard in three counties, I make quick work of the mess as best I can with warm water and a paper towel before grabbing my mug and heading down the short hall to join him.
Making my way to his room located at the end of the hall, I'm forced to walk past the bedroom that belongs to LJ - the open door disaster that, a great relief to all of us, is typically filthy and disorganized just like any other teenaged male's room.
Directly across the hall from him is another door.
Closed, always closed.
A room I've never the seen inside.
Yet one I don't need to see to know its neat, organized, ready and waiting
because.
' Michael will need place to stay when I get him back home. '
That door, its meaning, grabs hold of my heart, squeezing it tight in my chest, speeding up my lingering pace as I'm reminded why I'd come in the first place.
Busy stuffing the needed essentials into a large duffle bag, he barely looks
up as I enter the room and take a seat on the bed next to his bag.
" I changed the sheets for you."
As he says it, I begin running my fingertips over the thick comforter
wondering if he has any idea, wondering if I'll ever have the nerve to tell him,
that each time I agree to stay with LJ while he runs off to search for Michael,
I secretly hope he'll forget to change them, allowing me to spend night after night
lying in his bed, the faith masucline smell of his aftershave, lingering on the pillow,
surrounding me, filling me up, as I remember the few scattered nights
we were together before devotion to his son and the unrelenting drive to find his
brother consumed everything he had left to give.
" You can't go, Lincoln. Not this time."
Not hearing a word I'm saying, he goes on attempting to fold and eventually rolling into a ball the t-shirt in his hands and shoving it forcefully into a corner of the bag as he speaks. " LJ won't give you any trouble. The kid's been through the extreme edition of Scared Straight. He's worried about his Uncle Mike. Other than making a mess and eating me out of house and home, he's not gonna give you a lick of trouble. I promise, V."
"I'm not worried about LJ."
He stops what he's doing, his head rising slowly and purposefully until he meets my eye.
"Linc, you can't leave Sara. It's too close."
The odd look on his face as he walks away, into the bathroom, clanging about the room, gathering up what he needs, makes me wonder if he knew what I was going to say all along. "Nah! It's fine. I went with her for that ultrasound thing a few days ago and the doctor told her everything was fine. Said she had a good two weeks left, more if she went past her due date, which the doc said usually happens with the first baby."
Leaning over to peer through the open door, I catch a brief glimpse of him
in the mirror over the sink, undeterred, going about his business.
"Did she tell you why they were doing another ultrasound this late in the
pregnancy?"
Other than a prolonged heavy sigh, he stops moving in the other room, falling completely silent as he walks back in, tossing his shaving kit on the bed next to the bag. " Measuring. Yes, she told me ... they say he's a big boy ... so what?"
" Boy? This distinctly male, bordering on macho assumption of yours that this baby is going to be a boy - another man in the proud tradition of Burrows men - is getting a little old. The fact that Sara doesn't know the sex means you don't either..."
He takes a step back, running his hand roughly through his hair, massaging his scalp and neck in frustration as he watches me begin to pull his things slowly from the bag as I speak. "What are you going to do if this baby is girl?"
He laughs softly, momentarily easing the growing tension. "At first, I have no clue, but eventually I'll be standing around, ready and waiting, to scare the hell out of any guy that tries to date her when she's all grown up."
As he snatches and prepares to stuff it back in the bag the clothing I'd removed, folded, and set aside on the bed, I reach out and take firm hold of his hand, squeezing it hard to get his attention. " This late ultrasound, concern over a big baby. Linc, this is about them worrying she may have trouble delivering."
Watching him standing there, frozen in place, staring at me, I push away the bag, pulling the items from his hands, while tugging gently on his arm, urging him to sit next to me. "I know you want to find him... that you hate the thought of Michael not being there when his child is born. "
His refusal to look me in the eye, fixated on something unseen, off into the distance, rubbing his stubbled chin in thought as if he believes that if he thinks hard enough he'll see the answers written on the wall across the room, makes me push a little harder to be sure he hear what I'm saying. "She could have a hard time, Linc, and you need to be here if she needs you. Are you listening? Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you? "
Shrugging, stuffing his hands in his pockets, watching my eyes carefully as he takes a seat on the bed next to me, he looks more like a scared child than a man hardened by an unimaginably difficult life as he asks the question I know means the world to him. "They're gonna be okay, won't they, V? "
"They'll be fine ... everything is going to be fine"
Laying my hand on his to reassure him, he shifts the position, easily
sweeping my hand possessively into his own, weaving our fingers together as
he does. "You've chased down every lead, Lincoln. Looked every place you
could think of. As much as I know you want to find him, the chances of doing
it with nothing to go on in the next four days are next to zero."
Understanding just how difficult it really is for him letting 'finding Michael' go for the moment, I reach up, covering both our hands, the tips of my fingers gently stroking the rough skin on the back of his hand as I tell him the truth he knew before I ever walked through the door. "You know as well as I do he'd want you to be here for her, for both of them."
Releasing his hold on my hand, his fingers threading quickly through my hair to the base of my neck, pulling my lips gently to his for a chaste kiss before pulling away painfully quick as he confesses the last thing any man likes to admit. " You win...you're right. I know you're right."
" You'll stay then? "
Rising to his feet, letting me go altogether, he reaches past me and takes hold of the bag, lifting it high, tipping it upside down to unceremoniously dump the contents all over the bed behind me. " Yeah, I'll stay ... for now. "
TBC...
Next time(Monday): Where has Michael been all this time?