Some people said it couldn't be done, but here it is: a Prison Break/Doctor Who fic. Takes place right after "Flight" in PB and between "Age of Steel" and "Idiot's Lantern" in DW. Contains the characters 10/Rose, Sara/Michael, Lincoln, Sucre, and LJ. The BBC own everything Doctor Who and Fox owns everything Prison Break.
Dedicated to Wentworth and David, for giving us something to dream about.
Michael could only stare, his blue eyes open as wide as they could go, at the TARDIS control panel.
He thought his head might explode.
Lights, switches, buttons, bits of technology completely alien to him. His mind buzzed, seeing every single component, every detail of the bits and pieces. He took a slow step forward, his eyes darting wildly, momentarily forgetting about his fellow escapees. He could barely take all he could see in.
The Doctor looked at him, confused by the sudden appearance of the men and slightly concerned by the intensity of Michael's stare. "You all right there?"
"This…this is amazing," Michael mumbled. He reached to touch something on the console.
"Careful, don't touch," the Doctor warned. He didn't want him sending them anywhere unwanted. Michael halted his hand, his eyes never rising from the controls. The Doctor frowned. He was used to people being awed by the TARDIS, but never quite like this before.
Michael pulled his gaze away from the console, suddenly remembering the others and their escape. They ran into what at first seemed to be an ordinary wooden box in desperation. They hadn't expected to be walking into a room that was much larger on the inside. He saw Sucre standing back by the door along with his brother.
"Lincoln, where's C-Note and Abruzzi?"
Lincoln paused to catch his breath, leaning on one of the strange pillars that seemed to act as support beams.
"Abruzzi… Abruzzi veered off when we came closer to this... thing, and C-Note was too slow. The cops got him." He paused, looking around at the bizarre room. "Where the hell are we Michael?"
Michael glanced around him, still taking in everything, his mind working at a million miles an hour.
"I have no idea. Illinois?" he offered with a small smile. He turned to the Doctor, standing by the console. "Michael Scofield," he introduced with a smile, offering the Doctor his left hand. "This is my brother Lincoln and my... friend, Sucre."
"Nice to meet you, Michael Scofield," the Doctor said, shaking his hand. "May I ask what you're doing at midnight, running across the airstrip in," he looked down at the screen. "Goose Park, Illinois?" He laughed and raised his voice slightly. "Rose, we're on Earth again, but at least we're not in England."
Rose poked her head into the console room and stared at the strange men. "Uh…hello," she said.
"Hello," Michael replied. Lincoln nodded at her.
Just then, the police who had been chasing them began to bang on the TARDIS doors. Sucre jumped away and he and Lincoln ran up the ramp, their initial hesitation replaced by fear. "This is the police!" the cops shouted. "We have you surrounded! Open up!"
The Doctor frowned again. "Why are the police chasing you?"
"We're um…" Lincoln started. He wasn't quite sure what to say.
"You've broken out from prison, haven't you?" the Doctor said, answering his question with another one. This one didn't need to be answered. It was obvious. The hand cuffs, the blood stains, the matching clothes.
Michael turned his intense gaze on the Doctor. "Are you going to turn us in?"
The Doctor shrugged. "Why were you in prison? Are you dangerous?"
"Depends who you ask." He glanced behind him at Sucre and Lincoln. "No, we're not dangerous," he decided. He rubbed a hand over his cropped hair, forgetting about the metal on his wrists. He winced and pulled his hand away. "You wouldn't have anything that would break this would you?"
The Doctor paused and considered the man in front of him. He looked fatigued and concerned, but awed by the room he was in. He nodded and pulled out the sonic screwdriver. Michael raised an eyebrow but extended his arm out to him.
"These things will be the death of me," he muttered. The handcuff snapped open as the Doctor worked the sonic screwdriver over the catch.
"Don't I know it?" The Doctor answered, looking across at Rose. She caught his eye and dropped her gaze quickly with a smile and a blush.
"Thanks," Michael said, his eyes lingering on the sonic screwdriver for a moment.
"So, why were you in prison?" the Doctor asked again.
Michael hesitated to answer. The police were still hammering loudly on the door and ordering them to get out. There was a loud bang as one cop tried to kick the door open, but failed.
"Hold that thought," the Doctor said. He flicked some switches on the TARDIS console and told the others to "hang on." The startled men gabbed for the railing as the ship suddenly began to vibrate. The huge piston in the centre of the room pounded up and down and the giant, ancient engines whirred and groaned. "This is the TARDIS," the Doctor shouted over the noise. "Time and relative dimensions in space. It's my ship, and…" the noise and movement stopped with a shudder and a bang. "It's just moved you about a month in the future and about two blocks over. So…start talking."
Michael was very confused, but he sighed. "Me and Sucre, armed robbery and Lincoln for murder. But he was framed, and basically I robbed a bank so that I could break him out of death row. Sucre is... was my cellmate."
"How did you manage that? Death row, that's maximum security."
Michael laughed shortly. "With difficulty. I was part of a firm that had constructed the prison and they had the blue prints. In short, I tattooed them onto my body along with plans." He lifted up the sleeve of his shirt and folded it up his arm, revealing the swirls of coloured ink. The Doctor pulled out some glasses from a pocket and lifted Michael's arm a bit closer.
"That…is beautiful. Come here, Rose." The Doctor beckoned his companion to come closer. She did so nervously. She looked at Michael's arm and frowned.
"I don't see any blue prints," she said.
"They're all over my chest, back and other arm too," Michael explained. "Only I can really see the maps."
"You must be a genius to be able to decipher this," the Doctor said. He smiled at him. "You are, aren't you? A genius, I mean."
Michael only smiled mysteriously.
"So, is this like a time machine or something?" Sucre asked.
The Doctor let go of Michael's arm. "Yeah, it is."
"It looks…alien," Sucre said.
"That's cos it is," the Doctor admitted.
"Wait a minute, are you an alien?" Lincoln asked.
"Yup."
The three men stared at him.
"But…you don't look alien," Sucre said slowly.
"Not on the outside, no," the Doctor said.
Rose spoke up. "Don't worry, I went through the same thing."
"Are you alien too?" Lincoln asked her.
"No. I just travel with the Doctor," she explained.
Lincoln rubbed a hand over his shaved head. "This is unbelievable," he muttered.
Michael had gone back to staring at the TARDIS console. The Doctor was puzzled by this. Why was Michael so fascinated by it? Why couldn't he keep his eyes off it?
No sooner had he thought those questions the TARDIS told him the answers. He could tell his ship was almost as interested in Michael's mind as he was in her.
"His mind…" the TARDIS told him, communicating in the Doctor's brain. "He sees everything…"
And then the Doctor understood. A creative genius who sees everything. He knew that Michael wouldn't be able to help it. He smiled faintly.
"Are we really in the future?" Lincoln asked, interrupting the Doctor's thoughts.
"Yes," The Doctor answered.
Lincoln's eyes lit up. "Then we should be clear! We're free!"
"No we're not," Michael stated, his eyes still on the console. "If what the Doctor said is true, then we're not that far in the future. We can't leave. We're not clear yet."
"So what do we do?" Sucre wondered.
Michael sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. He looked at the Doctor, who in turn looked at Rose. Something passed between the Time Lord and his companion, a look that asked "should we?"
"But they're criminals," Rose protested. She addressed the other men. "I mean, no offence, but you were in prison and everything. Even if he was innocent," she gestured to Lincoln.
The Doctor's gaze remained steady. Unknown to her, he had reached out to the TARDIS with his mind. He knew she was already in their heads, and he trusted her judgement that these were all good guys for the most part. "Rose," he said. "If they were going to do anything bad to us, the TARDIS would know." He smiled reassuringly at her and turned back to Michael. "I suppose we can let you stay for a little while and help you start to get your lives back on track."
Michael smiled, grateful for their help. "Thank you."
"Does that mean we can go see my…" Sucre stopped himself.
"Your who?" The Doctor asked.
"My girlfriend, Maricruz, she's having my baby…but she's marrying my cousin." Michael and Lincoln rolled their eyes. They'd already had enough of this story. "Please, can I go see her?" Sucre pleaded.
The Doctor considered him. "Maybe," he said. "But no promises. I think the three of you should rest for right now. You look like you've been through hell and back."
Michael smiled faintly. "We have."