Fic: 'The Nature of Understanding' - Prison Break, Michael/Alex, PG
Title: The Nature of Understanding
Fandom: Prison Break
Pairing: Michael/Alex
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 700
Notes: An episode coda to 4.08 'The Price.' Unbetad, crit welcome
Summary: Alex needs to heal. Michael tries to help.
They've taken Wyatt somewhere--somewhere safe, according to Self--but they won't tell him where. They don't trust him to wait, and if he's honest, they're probably right not to. But Lincoln promised, and he thinks he can trust that. You'll get your shot.
Sara is attending to his hands--the knuckles are raw and bleeding, so swollen it looks like he's got a bad case of arthritis, and for a second as he stares at them he wonders if he's seeing the future. The sensation doesn't last; he doesn't think his future goes that far down the line.
He winces as Sara cleans out the cuts, but he doesn't pull away. He earned this pain, and he's determined to relish every last second of it.
Alex looks up when the warehouse door opens. Michael walks over to them and exchanges a look with Sara that Alex can't read. Without a word she puts the bottle of antiseptic down on the table and crosses to the door. When she's gone, Michael picks it up.
This time Alex does try to pull away, but Michael holds on fast. 'Let me,' is all he says.
Alex stops resisting, he's not sure why. Maybe he just doesn't have any fight left in him. His right hand in particular is throbbing with a sick, pulsing heat, and he thinks he might have broken one of the small bones. He flexes it and inhales sharply. Michael looks up. 'Hold still, Alex.'
Alex watches him work. His movements are sure and efficient, wrapping Alex's now-clean hands with gauze. 'You done this before, Michael?'
Michael gives him a small smile. 'I may have learned some field medic skills as a kid. Believe it or not, Linc's been known to get into a fight or two.'
He holds Alex's hands out and turns them over, looking at his handiwork critically. 'There. That should do, for now. Try not to do any more damage for a while, okay? You need to heal.'
Alex stares over his shoulder at Wyatt's picture, taped up with the others. 'I'm not sorry for what I did. And I won't be sorry for what I'm going to do, either.'
Michael doesn't reply immediately. Alex wonders if he's rehearsed a speech, or if he's just going to fly with whatever comes. He starts mentally rehearsing his own response, his justification, but in the end all Michael says is, 'I know.'
Alex brings his gaze back to Michael's face. 'You're not going to try and talk me out of it?
'We need him alive for now. He's valuable. After that...' he shrugs.
'I'm surprised, Michael. I didn't realise you could be so old testament.'
'I was going to kill Gretchen,' Michael says. 'When I thought Sara was dead. And I would have killed Wyatt, too, if he'd... ' he looks away. 'If I hadn't been able to get you out. So no, Alex, I'm not going to try and talk you out of it.'
Alex suddenly becomes aware that Michael hasn't let go of his hands. His thumb rests on the skin of Alex's wrist, circling in a slight, almost imperceptible movement that still somehow manages to feel like an electrical charge. Alex lets out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. 'Michael,' he says, and is vaguely appalled to hear how shaky his voice is.
'I'm not going to try and talk you out of it,' he says again, so softly that Alex has to lean in to hear him. 'I just need to know that you... that you intend to come back, afterwards. That you don't think it means that you -- that we -- are done, when it's over. Because that's not how it ends. Do you understand me, Alex? That's not how this ends.'
Alex stares at him. 'I...' he says, and finds that there's nothing else to follow.
Michael nods as if he'd actually said something coherent, and finally releases Alex's hands. Alex lets them drop to his sides, still able to feel the ghost of pressure where Michael's thumb had rested.
'I don't think I understand you at all,' he says softly, but Michael is already gone.
.
Fandom: Prison Break
Pairing: Michael/Alex
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 700
Notes: An episode coda to 4.08 'The Price.' Unbetad, crit welcome
Summary: Alex needs to heal. Michael tries to help.
They've taken Wyatt somewhere--somewhere safe, according to Self--but they won't tell him where. They don't trust him to wait, and if he's honest, they're probably right not to. But Lincoln promised, and he thinks he can trust that. You'll get your shot.
Sara is attending to his hands--the knuckles are raw and bleeding, so swollen it looks like he's got a bad case of arthritis, and for a second as he stares at them he wonders if he's seeing the future. The sensation doesn't last; he doesn't think his future goes that far down the line.
He winces as Sara cleans out the cuts, but he doesn't pull away. He earned this pain, and he's determined to relish every last second of it.
Alex looks up when the warehouse door opens. Michael walks over to them and exchanges a look with Sara that Alex can't read. Without a word she puts the bottle of antiseptic down on the table and crosses to the door. When she's gone, Michael picks it up.
This time Alex does try to pull away, but Michael holds on fast. 'Let me,' is all he says.
Alex stops resisting, he's not sure why. Maybe he just doesn't have any fight left in him. His right hand in particular is throbbing with a sick, pulsing heat, and he thinks he might have broken one of the small bones. He flexes it and inhales sharply. Michael looks up. 'Hold still, Alex.'
Alex watches him work. His movements are sure and efficient, wrapping Alex's now-clean hands with gauze. 'You done this before, Michael?'
Michael gives him a small smile. 'I may have learned some field medic skills as a kid. Believe it or not, Linc's been known to get into a fight or two.'
He holds Alex's hands out and turns them over, looking at his handiwork critically. 'There. That should do, for now. Try not to do any more damage for a while, okay? You need to heal.'
Alex stares over his shoulder at Wyatt's picture, taped up with the others. 'I'm not sorry for what I did. And I won't be sorry for what I'm going to do, either.'
Michael doesn't reply immediately. Alex wonders if he's rehearsed a speech, or if he's just going to fly with whatever comes. He starts mentally rehearsing his own response, his justification, but in the end all Michael says is, 'I know.'
Alex brings his gaze back to Michael's face. 'You're not going to try and talk me out of it?
'We need him alive for now. He's valuable. After that...' he shrugs.
'I'm surprised, Michael. I didn't realise you could be so old testament.'
'I was going to kill Gretchen,' Michael says. 'When I thought Sara was dead. And I would have killed Wyatt, too, if he'd... ' he looks away. 'If I hadn't been able to get you out. So no, Alex, I'm not going to try and talk you out of it.'
Alex suddenly becomes aware that Michael hasn't let go of his hands. His thumb rests on the skin of Alex's wrist, circling in a slight, almost imperceptible movement that still somehow manages to feel like an electrical charge. Alex lets out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. 'Michael,' he says, and is vaguely appalled to hear how shaky his voice is.
'I'm not going to try and talk you out of it,' he says again, so softly that Alex has to lean in to hear him. 'I just need to know that you... that you intend to come back, afterwards. That you don't think it means that you -- that we -- are done, when it's over. Because that's not how it ends. Do you understand me, Alex? That's not how this ends.'
Alex stares at him. 'I...' he says, and finds that there's nothing else to follow.
Michael nods as if he'd actually said something coherent, and finally releases Alex's hands. Alex lets them drop to his sides, still able to feel the ghost of pressure where Michael's thumb had rested.
'I don't think I understand you at all,' he says softly, but Michael is already gone.
.