Title: Notes
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael, Lincoln, tiny bit of Mama Scofield
Prompt: 001: Beginnings
Word Count: 499
Rating: G
Summery: Every year, the first day of school was the same.
Disclaimer: Paul Scheuring and a whole lot of other people who aren't me own Prison Break.
He ended up loving school, but his first few days of it were a hellish nightmare, and he tried everything he could to get out of it. He cried, he begged, he bargained, but there was nothing that a four-year-old could offer to his mother in exchange for reprieve from school.
He refused to let go of his mother's hand on the first morning, lower lip trembling as she tried to pry herself away and his heart broke. Lincoln had complained the whole morning about having to be seen taking his baby brother to school, but when the time came to say goodbye he squeezed Michael on the shoulder and told him not to be scared; he was a big kid now, and he could do it. So Michael did; if his brother said he could, it must be true.
He was terrified of the unfamiliar surroundings until he opened up his backpack to find his favorite stuffed bear inside, smiling up at him. Michael gasped and grinned and hugged the bear tightly to his chest, wondering if maybe it had crawled inside the backpack all by itself.
Every year, the first day of school was the same. Michael would step nervously into his new classroom and peer around, searching for something or someone familiar. His worries were always calmed when he'd open his bag to find a stuffed animal from home, and later, when he was better able to read, a quickly jotted note in his lunch bag from his mother.
Love ya!
You'll do great.
I'm so proud of you.
When he was a few years older he'd flush with embarrassment and grin lightly at the words – just silly, corny little notes that he should've outgrown the need for long ago but still somehow managed to reassure him whenever he was feeling nervous and afraid.
There was no note on the first day of sixth grade, and it took him half the day to even realize that he'd been looking for it. He almost couldn't breathe when he realized that all he would find in his lunch bag from now on would be food.
Years later after he nervously bid goodbye to his brother and began unpacking his things in his tiny dorm room, he spotted the ragged old bear and felt a stab of homesickness. He was just about ready to scrap the whole college idea and call Lincoln to come rescue him when he pulled the bear out of his bag and found a scrap of paper stuck to its chest. It was an old note, one his mother had written him years and years ago, with a simple Love you scrawled across the worn paper in faded blue ink.
On the other side was written Proud of you. She'd be proud too. No worries, you can do it in dark black ink, and Michael pushed out a heavy sigh, swallowing his panic. If his brother said he could do it, it must be true.
-end-