Title: Mistakes Come In Threes
Summary: The boy's eyes narrowed and a flicker of disgust twisted his lips into a sneer. "I'm your son jackass."
Disclaimer: Pah I wish I owned Prison Break! 'Cept if I did, the show probably wouldn't do that well what with me not knowing much about television business and all :P
A/N: Spring break is this week and my mum and I are going to Scotland so for two weeks there are gonna be no updates. I'll try to get another one up before I go which is Saturday, butI can't be sure. Anyways, hope you like this one :D
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7877…T-Bag carefully punched in the numbers and turned, hazel eyes sweeping the prison yard. It was eleven, give or take a few minutes. The ring tone purred softly in T-Bag's ear until finally it was cut off and a young boy's voice replaced the sound.
"Ya?" It said gruffly though there was underlying nerves.
"Now is that anyway to be answer tha phone boy?" T-Bag drawled, a shrewd grin momentarily playing along his lips.
"That you!" Damian suddenly spoke up from the other end of the phone, sounding relieved and then once again anxious. "What happened to you? I told ya to be phonin' at eleven!"
"It is eleven." T-Bag said frowning and leaning against the phone box.
"Elevenish." Damian hissed back, "Thought you weren't a gonna call, woulda changed everythin'…" The boy's voice slowly died out.
"Jus' relax boy, what are ya on about?" T-Bag asked, frowning again. How would a five-minute late phone call change everything? What was everything? Once again the doubtful thoughts struck T-Bag; he didn't know who this kid was. Ya Damian looked like him and it was possible…but how could he help? How did he know?
"Look, I ain't the one to tell ya'll what to do, but Celia is. Ah'll put her on the phone, listen to her mind, you gotta remember what she says right?"
"Sho'nuff." T-Bag said, licking his lips. There was a sound of the phone transferring hands and then,
"Theodore Bagwell?" The voice was cool and clear, the higher alto of a female voice. T-Bag stood up straight suddenly, the voice sent off little warning bells in his head.
"Who's this?" T-Bag said, he wanted answer and he wanted them now. Wasn't he the head honcho of the alliance? Didn't he deserve some respect, none of this being kept in the dark business.
"You'll find out soon enough Theodore, if all goes well." The voice replied smoothly. T-Bag wracked his mind, Damian had mentioned the name Celia, was this voice that person?
"Celia?" T-Bag questioned, wrinkling his nose slightly in distaste for the name. Far to proper for him. Mind you Theodore wasn't much better.
"Damian has been talking I see." The voice said softly, like the unknown person on the other end was smiling. The smile from the female's voice disappeared though and a much more serious tone took over. "I know what you are planning Theodore, I know who is involved and I know that time is running out." T-Bag hissed and looked over his shoulder again to make sure no one heard. He placed his other hand at the mouth of the phone and pressed the earpiece hard against his ear.
"Look missy, I don't know who ya are-"
"That's right Theodore, you do not know who I am." The words were soft, serious and matter of fact, but there was a hidden bitter twist to them that stopped T-Bag. An image of Damian's defiant face floated in his mind, as he spoke bitter word 'No'.
"Listen to me Mr. Bagwell, I can help you. Mr. Scofield's plan is risky, very risky actually, but it just might work. I know of somewhere that you all can stay, if you are willing. Damian will be waiting for you in the first alleyway of Fitz. Tell the others." The voice paused for a moment and then continued. "Do not be late Theodore, timing is everything." The line went dead and T-Bag was left, hands wrapped around the phone until his knuckles turned white. Slowly T-Bag hung the phone up and stared off into the distance, idly running a hand through his thin hair.
"Hey let's keep it movin' pervert." Someone from behind spoke up. T-bag turned around, eyes glittering. A fairly large inmate glared back, cracking his knuckles threateningly. T-bag let a slow smile spread across his lips as he swaggered close to the man.
"Betta be watchin' your mouth. Wouldn't want to end up in any sort of…trouble." T-Bag drawled, enjoying the glimmer of regret and fear that ran fleetingly through the other man's eyes. T-Bag snorted before turning and walking away, he'd go find the others and tell them, and then he'd figure out what the hell was going on.
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"I dunno Papi, sounds dangerous." Sucre said, turning to Michael who lent against the fence, blue eyes starring off into the distance. "I mean how are we supposed to know if this chika and his son really want to help us."
"How did they find out? Are they friends of yours fish?" Abruzzi questioned. Michael ran a hand over his shaved head, and frowned.
"I don't know who they are, I don't know how they found out I covered all of my tracks…" T-Bag watched the others reactions, tongue between his teeth.
"Shouldn't trust them." Lincoln spoke up, shaking his head. "We don't know what they want…"
"But if they knew…why wouldn't they say anything? Why wait to that night?" Michael said, more to himself than to anyone else.
"I got guys on the outside who are pickin' us up, we don't have to worry about these two people." C-Note interrupted.
"Thing is, we don't know how many of them there are, and they're on our way out." Scofield stated.
"What are we gonna do Fish?" Sucre asked, his voice nervous. "I gotta a baby comin' man I don't want to be jeop-ar-dizing anything with these personas locas out there." He opened his mouth to go into a rant but Michael cut him off,
"Look, there's nothing we can do while we're in here. These people are virtually untraceable; all we have are two names. We don't know if they actually want to help or not. We'll stick with the original plan, if things change…well we'll see what this Damian and Celia have to offer."
