Prison Break Fic: Theme 5, Prompt #15 cure
ashlesha17
Title: In Hell the Devil Can Be The Best Thing To Ever Happen To You
Fandom: Prison Break
Theme Set: 5 suggested by
shinigami39
Prompt: #15 Cure
Pairing: T-Bag/Maytag
Rated: R (only for references to violence and non-consensual sex, non-graphic)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Prison Break and do not profit in any way.
A/N: In Hell hold the Devil’s hand, tight.
Written for: 15pairings
T-Bag smiled at the new fish and his naiveté. “I got another pocket.” He turned it out and offered it with his unique blend of
disquieting menace and charm to the pretty newbie, not even noticing Maytag’s angry glare and fierce hold on his other
pocket. He could afford to ignore Maytag’s little moods.
Maytag for his part tried to stay quiet throughout the exchange between T-Bag and the new ‘pretty’ fish, Michael, but hatred
for the man burned through him. How dare he think he could have T-Bag! The older man was his: his leader,
his father-figure, his lover, and his protector. His relief at the fish’s stupid and arrogant refusal knew no bounds. He left
T-Bag seething as he walked away and as relieved as Maytag was he was shocked at the fish’s utter stupidity at refusing the
offer. Didn’t he know that belonging to a man like T-Bag, head of the Brotherhood; cunning, violent, and utterly unpredictable meant
salvation? At his side, Maytag had a home, protection, and in a perverse way status. He couldn’t see how his own reality had changed so
much anymore. He was T-Bag’s ‘boy’ body and soul.
When he first arrived at Fox River two years before, Mason Tagg had been found himself in hell. Sure, he had been in and
out of the correctional system all his life, since juvi on up. But nothing prepared him for the reality of being a 20 year old
‘boy’ in a Level 1 prison, at the mercy of a sea of hard, predatory men with little to loose. At first he tried to just go
unnoticed, and then he quickly tried to find a place as a fighter with the other ‘Aryans’. His efforts got him nothing but raped
and beaten. Strangely, though Maytag knew and saw first hand T-Bag’s lack of mercy to any and all who crossed him or his,
the man never came after Maytag. He seemed to just ignore him and at first Maytag was grateful.
Maytag remembered the feeling of contempt he had for the little creep holding T-Bag’s pocket back then. ‘How pathetic,
walking around another man’s bitch.’ But he couldn’t help but notice that none of the others from the brotherhood dared to
touch the boy and that any other fool never did it twice. T-Bag made sure of that in spades. He didn’t have to do it often, and
usually it was a stupid newbie that thought he was tougher that T-Bag. More than a few had a very short stay at Fox River
because of that stupid assumption. A universally unspoken rule of prison between the guards and the leaders among the
inmates let such crimes go unsolved. The guards had their hands full and an animal like T-Bag, a lifer and a force that others
would follow was too much trouble, too hard to try and break. Besides what the fuck did they care if a new fish ended up
dead? Easier to bully the weaker inmates and only mess with men like T-Bag or Abruzzi if it was their ass on the line.
A few months after Maytag had been there a race riot erupted in the yard. It had been brewing for days and then just
exploded. Several died in the chaos, including T-Bag’s boy. Only one rule in a riot, know your color, status and the normal
pecking order meant nothing. Maytag ended up in the infirmary with a broken wrist, three cracked ribs, and stitches. For all
the pain he was in, Maytag didn’t want to go back to the block. Here the humiliation and fear that he lived with everyday
stopped for just a little while.
He got sent back all too soon, since the infirmary was full and the block was in lockdown it was decided he could recover in his cell. Maytag
remembered the bars opening to let him back in and Bellick escorting him back to his cell. He passed T-Bag’s cell and saw him sitting alone
on the bottom bunk. He didn’t smile at Maytag, but held his eye as he passed. Not sure why, Maytag nodded to the man and kept on walking
until he was ‘back home’ in his usual cell. Maytag’s cellie, his chief torturer wasn’t there. He was still in the SHU, chosen at random to be one
of the inmates to blame for the riot.
After three days the inmates were let out and it was back to the usual routine. It took Maytag awhile to notice a few
differences. When his cellmate returned, he still talked to Maytag like he was shit, but didn’t touch him. As the days passed
more of the brotherhood talked to him, let him eat with them, and he went from being Mason Tagg to Maytag. A nickname
was important, it made him somebody. A little wary, but grateful he wondered at the changes, until he saw T-Bag watching
him. He didn’t smile, he stared intent and knowing at Maytag. So it became clear who Maytag owed for his change in
fortune. He also knew that if he wanted to hold on to his new haven from hell, he’d have to pay the devil his due. A few
months can make the reality of things very clear and Maytag didn’t hesitate as he walked up to T-Bag in the yard. The older
man sat sprawled on the bleachers in the yard surrounded by ‘his family’, but he waved them off as Maytag approached. He
gestured for Maytag to sit next to him.
“Thank you.” Maytag said simply as he watched T-Bag turn and smile at him for the first time.
T-Bag just nodded his understanding. Inside he congratulated himself. He had noticed Maytag since he’d stepped off the bus,
but he was a canny, canny man. T-Bag could look at anyone and judge how to get what he wanted out of them. Some he
had to break in, this one just needed time to break him. ‘Pretty, low maintenance, and grateful.’ T-Bag chuckled gleefully to
himself. His tongue twisted as he licked his lips and Maytag held his eye. He stood up and turned his pocket inside out,
offering it to Maytag. “What say we take a walk around the yard, hmm….?”
Maytag reached for T-Bag’s pocket without hesitation. “I’d like that.” He wasn’t even ashamed when T-Bag ran a thumb
down his face and smiled. It filled him with gratitude; he was pleasing to his new master. Maytag didn’t care anymore what
T-Bag was or what he wanted from him. Here the Devil took care of his own; he was the cure for hell itself.