I Just Want My Son Back.
Velvet darkness fell upon the little lake house in the middle of nowhere. The water rippled peacefully next to the darkened ground and lit up as soon as the moon struck its surface. The whole scene looked like it was from a fairytale; although this one normally ended in tragedy instead of triumph.
Michael was sitting hunched over a table in the corner of the lounge, while Lincoln was stretched out on a couch nearby. Underneath Michaels graffitied arm lay a large map, dotted with red ink to symbolise their next hideouts, and the trail they would have to follow for everything to go right. Only a dim light gave off a sense of visibility as his eyes scanned the creased paper, holding a red marker in his hand if he found a new location.
"Where are we going after this? I want to get L.J back, Michael." Lincoln's deep voice was filled with worry. In his hands was a newspaper article about his son, L.J, being arrested for murdering his own mother, and attempted murder for shooting the man who was the one who actually killed her. Lincoln's eyes continued to graze back and fourth, reading the words over and over again in his mind, blaming himself for giving off a bad influence to his son who he cared a lot about.
"I don't know. That's what I'm trying to work out. We may have to leave L.J right now. He'll only hold us back, no matter how much we try to get it to work." Michael's eyes were glazed over with pure determination and concentration. It killed him to say they should leave his nephew behind, but to him it was the only option. "Anyway, we might have to spend our next couple of days here. The police will be too tied up with the others to know exactly where we are." He sat the pen carefully down on the table. He folded up the map then slipped it under the phone. He didn't know why he usually hid the map, but it made him feel safe; like no one could find it and foil his plan.
"My son is arrested for murder, Michael. I can't let him suffer for something he didn't do like me." He pushed himself off the couch and into a sitting position. His eyes had been lifted from the article and had fallen on Michael who was tidying up. His voice was almost shaking from the fear and love he felt for the most precious thing in his life – his son.
"I know, I know. I want to get him back too, Lincoln, but I can't. If we go back we risk getting caught and thrown back into Fox River. Once everything calms down we can go." His eyes never caught contact with Lincoln's as he put the table to perfection again, and then made his way into the open kitchen that was joined onto the lounge. He walked to the fridge and opened it. He looked in every corner of it then pulled out a carton of orange juice.
"Calms down?" Lincoln's voice was now full of anger. He jumped off the sofa and walked over to Michael. His eyes pierced him as he tried to get his attention. Michael usually ignored him when he felt like he was doing the wrong thing or encouraging Lincoln to hate him, so Lincoln knew he felt guilty and felt the need to make him feel even guiltier in order to get his son back. "L.J is in prison because of me, and Veronica is dead for the same reason. It's not an acne outbreak! It'll never calm down!"
Michael finally made eye contact with him as he finished the carton of orange with one, simple slurp. He pushed by Lincoln to place it in the bin. He turned around and looked at him straight in the eye. "Two months ago we were both holed up in a prison, awaiting your death with only hope to hold onto. Now look at us, we're free and out in the real world. Things will get better, Lincoln. You just have to have a little faith."
Lincoln's mind flashed back to a time when everything was to be going down hill and not even he felt like it was going to be alright.
Younger Michael and Lincoln stood facing the sea on the edge of a city landscape. They wore immaculate black and white suits and their hair stood perfect. They had just been to their parent's funeral.
"What if something happens to you?" Little Michael glanced up at his taller brother, worried and confused.
Lincoln looked down at him, "You just have to have a little faith."
Now he seemed to be the one worried and confused. In Fox River, Michael acted like the big brother, and he still was to some extent.
"I just want my son back." Lincoln's voice was now coarse from the tears he was trying to choke back. Although he had tried to act tough, he had snapped. The love of his life had been shot whilst on the phone to him, he could hear her dying, he could hear her last breath. Now his son, who he loved more than anything in this world, had been sent to jail the minute he got out himself, and had been given such a bad start to life that Lincoln began blaming himself. Michael was his only hope, but now even he seemed to not care.
Michael didn't answer. His words had escaped him, and the remaining ones had buried them deep in his mind somewhere. He just looked at him then glanced down at his feet to help himself feel less guilty. He took a deep breath in as a painful silence gathered between them, making it harder for words. The only noise filling the room was the ticking clock which had been there for years.
Lincoln decided to break the silence. The anger building up inside of him had built up so far it knocked the words out of his mouth. "We'll talk about this at another time then." His eyes trailed along the ground as he brushed by Michael. He walked to his bedroom door then swung it open with one swift motion, leaving Michael all alone with the thousands of options running through his mind.
"You just have to have a little faith.."