Disclaimer: Prison Break doesn't belong to me but it is a lot of fun to take the characters out for a spin.
" Wake Up! " Exhausted and in a much deeper sleep that I'd seen in months, his voice alone doesn't do the trick and he's forced into shaking me by the shoulder to wake me. " Damn it, Linc, wake up! We've got a problem."
The fog begins to clear and the tension and worry I hear in his voice hits me like a slap in the face, waking me all at once to the point I sit, bolt upright, swinging my legs to floor, forcing him to take a stumbling step back to keep from been knocked over. " What? They've found us?"
Searching the floor for my pants, haphazardly, while waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark therefore enabling me to see them, and him for that matter I mumble into the darkness, " We gotta get out here?"
A shake of the head and a few blinks clears my vision enough to see him standing there, half dressed, barefoot, dragging my clothes off the floor and tossing them onto the bed as he speaks. " Not they, he! He found us. The only place were going, is out there, to hear what he has to say. "
Wondering who 'he' is, and what the hell is going on I step into my pants hoisting them up as I pull myself off the bed and head toward the door.
" Wait." The door in my hand, standing partially open, light filtering into
the room I turn around to see his face, more annoyed than alarmed.
He tosses my shirt at me explaining with a tone reeking of disgust
" Trust me; you'll want to be fully clothed for this conversation"
Without another word he pushes past me and into the room beyond.
Tugging my shirt over my head I follow close behind. The sight of him, smug, standing there grinning, just over Michael's shoulder shocks the hell out of me to the point I, without thinking, launch myself across the room, " Son of a Bitch!"
I'm startled by the strength I never imagined he had as I get no more than a couple steps momentum forward before I'm stopped in my tracks, by my younger, smaller, brothers determined hands planted firmly against my chest. "Don't! "
While I have no doubt I could easily overpower him if I tried it's the look on his face, a look I can't quite place that persuades me to hold back. " Take it easy. He has a gun."
He leans in closer and the look in his eyes, the first real glimpse of fear I've seen in him in a long time, persuades me to keep my cool and hear him out. " For God's sake, please, keep your voice down."
He glances over the closed bedroom door and back to me. " You'll wake her and I don't want him anywhere near her."
" Its like I told you, Pretty... " The way he walks over, smirking and laying his hands on Michael as his talks makes the hair in the back of my neck stand on end. "...I got no intention of laying a hand on her." Watching him, the boldness of his way with Michael makes me wonder how long he's been here and what he'd managed to get his hands on while I slept.
" I'm not going to touch her." My anxiety, along with the urge to reach over and snap his neck, grows as I stand there watching helplessly as he runs his filthy hands over my brothers bare skin while he speaks. "Not really my type, if you know what I mean. But I gotta wonder, what the hell, I'm gonna come right out and ask, how often does he give you a go at her?"
He leaves Michael physically and mentally behind taking a step in my direction searching for the right buttons to provoke me into doing something both of us, know I can't afford to do. " Seems like such a dedicated, self sacrificing brother, willing to throw away everything to save your sorry ass, would be more than willing to share a piece now and then?"
He looks me over, head to toe, leering, something he never had the the balls to do without a gun in his hand. " Or maybe she doesn't do it for you either. Tell me, Burrows, how far does this brotherly love you boys got going extend?" He reaches out, believing, until I clamp down on his wrist with force threatening to break it, that I'd actually allow him to lay a hand on me. " Maybe you don't give a damn about screwing the good doctor because all you got on your mind is getting a piece of that pretty, pretty, little brother of yours over there."
I let go of his hand shoving him away hard enough to send him stumbling backward, nearly falling, until he catches his balance by landing hard against Michael's chest. Defiant, he stands, righting himself, straightening his clothing and smoothing his hair. " Not that I blame you. But you see I just can't help wondering how long a man has to be behind bars..."
He steps close, right in my face, wagging his eyebrows and gnawing is lower lip for effect. " How warped he has to become to spend his nights dreaming of sticking it to his own flesh and blood."
Just when I think I can't take anymore, Michael, with a calm that scares me more than any gun, reaches out and places a gentle almost reassuring had on his shoulder, pleading with a smooth, voice that masks his hatred, carefully hidden from the eyes of the man, in front of him, but easy for me to see burning his eyes. " Enough! You said you were here to help."
Keeping his contact, his control, he shrugs the smaller man off, turning to face him, his long lean build making the lesser man look weak and frail by comparison. " This isn't helping anyone T-bag. You said you wanted to talk. I woke him, we're both standing here waiting, say what you came to say."
He stands silently watching him, a look of twisted admiration on his face. I hate seeing it even if I know inside Michael is the only hope we have of keeping this man in check. " Such a cool customer. Pretty, and oh sooooo smart. You two aren't cut from the same cloth, are you now? Only so much to go around leaving you stuck with the short end of the smart stick in this family, eh, Burrows."
He stops, standing still, in place, stroking his beard in thought as if he's taking his time, carefully choosing the right words. "Sorry, I got a little off track there but you know speaking of a man's flesh and blood, family, genes, does go a long way toward getting us back in ballpark. You see, I've stuck nice and close to you two from the start. Figured you boys weren't gonna get yourselves caught and staying in your shadow was the best way to avoid getting snagged myself"
He takes a step in my direction meeting my eye with only the occasional lusty glance at Michael, over his shoulder, as he speaks. " You should have been long gone by now. Basking in the sun on a sandy beach down south. I couldn't imagine what was keeping you and while it took me a few days to work my way close enough to hear what it was I needed to hear...
I did hear...
I do see your problem...
And I'm here to solve it, boys."
Listening, having a vague idea where he's going, I don't question the wisdom of his taking a few steps backward, slipping behind Michael, increasing the distance between us and protecting himself from the wrath he clearly believes his brand of 'help' is going to provoke in me.
" I'm gonna go get your boy."
The words are still hanging off the tip of his tongue as I lunge at him. " Keep your filthy fucking hands off my son!"
His reflexes prove quicker than my own as he stops me dead in my tracks by pulling the gun from his waist, cocking it, and placing it, without hesitation, firmly against my brother's temple. " I wasn't planning on hurting the boy but if you do something rash forcing me to shoot my prize I'll kill all three of you right now, go after the boy anyway, and show him a world of pleasure and pain you can't begin to imagine, all the while reminding him his 'daddy made me do it', till I get so bored I can't think of anything more interesting to do with the kid than blow his fucking brains out while be begs for his life."
Terrified I look at Michael, gun to his head, eyes closed tight, chest heaving, waiting for the shot. " I won't touch a hair on the boys head, Burrows. Treat him better than I would my own. I'll deliver him to your waiting hands as long as..."
My head spinning, horrified at the thought of this man anywhere near LJ, I miss the point, the offer, entirely, until stunned by what I see I'm forced to watch as he runs his hand teasing over his stomach, dipping down, through the waist of his pants, possessively pulling Michael against him. " As long as ..."
Searching for a way, any way, to save them both I feel my heart rise up in my throat as I watch Michael's eyes, the gun still trained on his temple, flutter slowly open, look briefly but compassionately in my direction then go cold, empty, and distant with surrender right before my eyes. " Get the boy to him safely, unharmed, and I'll do anything you ask."