A Life Half Lived 13/?
Title: A Life Half Lived
Authors: bwitched83uk and jeyhawk
Series: Yes!
Rating: Overall NC17
Pairing: Michael/Lincoln
Genre: Angst, Romance, Erotica, AU, Slash.
Summary: A life lived in fear, is a life half lived.
Disclaimer: We do not own the characters of Michael Scofield, or Lincoln Burrows, nor are we any way associated with the series Prison Break, or Fox. This is a fictional story using someone else’s characters. Not true.
Feedback: Don’t make us beg.
Beta: clex_monkie89
Warnings: AU, Slash, Sexual Situations
Chapter 13
Patrick Burrows found his only son sitting out on the old swing set he had made Lincoln and his sister Gina when they were kids. The wooden seat was weathered and the rope that held it to the old oak tree was frayed. Patrick was glad that it hadn’t yet broken.
“I keep telling myself I’m going to quit,” he said as he sat on a wooden stump near to Lincoln and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.
Lincoln chuckled and swung a little. “You’ve been saying that since I was seven.”
“You used to hide them from me so I couldn’t find them,” Patrick remembered fondly.
He lit one up and took a puff on it, holding the smoke in his lungs with great pleasure. He wasn’t allowed to smoke in the house anymore, not since his wife Helena had brought new curtains. She didn’t want the house to smell of smoke.
“LJ is inside trying to teach Colette to play his damn skateboard game, that’ll be another unsociable grandkid I got,” Patrick said, resting his elbows on his knees casually.
Lincoln just smiled and looked back at the house. “He’s fifteen, what do you expect? I think we’re lucky he’s still willing to be seen out in public with us, I seem to remember being much worse than he is.”
Patrick’s automatic response was to agree with Lincoln and bring up all the trouble he had put his parents through in the past, but his instincts kicked in quickly enough to stop himself. He didn’t hold any of that against Lincoln. What happened in the past was in the past. Lincoln was a good son and Patrick was damned proud of him.
“So did your fella like the concert?”
Lincoln turned to look at his dad and nodded his head slowly. “Yeah, we had a really good time.”
“Dating a classical music fan, huh? Not your usual choice of ‘friend,’” Patrick pointed out.
“Michael’s different, he’s…” he stopped and sighed, making Patrick laugh slightly.
“Oh, I remember those sighs. I sighed just like that when I looked at your mother for the first time.”
“How did you know that she was the one? That you were in love with her?” Lincoln asked, stopping the swaying swing.
“I just did,” Patrick said with a shrug. “You just know. The first time I saw your mother was in a diner, her parent’s diner. She wore a red dress and I just watched her walk up and down as she waited tables. Finally she stopped right in front of me and said, ‘are you going to watch me all day or are you going to offer to help?’”
Lincoln chuckled as he listened to his dad’s story, not that he hadn’t heard it all before.
“I spent the rest of the day washing up out back and afterwards she closed up and we had some coffee and I asked her out on a date,” Patrick told him, smiling at the fond memories.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence Patrick stood up and placed his hand on Lincoln’s shoulder. “Linc, I think you already know how you feel… we should get inside, they were about to dish up when I came out here. You know how that boy of yours likes to eat all the mashed potatoes before they’ve even hit the table.”
Inside the house Lincoln’s sister walked straight up to him and pulled him aside. “If I hear the name Michael one more time from my daughter’s lips, I’m going to scream.”
Lincoln laughed and looked over at Colette who was now sat up the table next to LJ, still playing on his gameboy.
“I’m afraid LJ might feel the same way,” he said giving his son an affectionate look.
“I don’t get it. She’s never taken a shine to anyone that quickly. What did he do?”
Lincoln shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. He doesn’t exactly have a great hand with children.”
Gina made a ‘pfft’ sound. “It’s obvious to me that he does. You better bring him over for Sunday dinner soon or my daughter will drive me out of my mind,” Gina’s eyes narrowed in the speculating way that Lincoln just knew meant she would have him agreeing to something he didn’t want to. “I got one better. Bring him to Colette’s birthday party. She will be ecstatic.”
Michael won’t, Lincoln thought but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want Gina to dislike Michael before she even met him, but he was pretty sure that Colette’s birthday party would be just another version of Hell for Michael, not to mention the fact that LJ would be there.
But maybe it was time he told Michael the truth about his son. Eventually they were going to have to meet and he really did want them to. He was cooking dinner for him tomorrow night; it would be the perfect time to come clean. Hopefully Michael would understand. It wasn’t like he had openly lied to him.
“Hey dad,” LJ called to him from the dinner table where he and Colette sat patiently for the food to be served. “I think we know what to get Col for her birthday,” he said with a grin as his little cousin hogged his gameboy.
Lincoln laughed and went to join them, taking a seat next to his son. “Are you alright?” he asked LJ quietly. “Last night you sounded pretty… well, like you needed you old man.”
LJ smiled weakly. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, like you should stay home when I’m not there just in case I need you… I just… sometimes I think it would be better if I lived with you all the time but then I know I would miss mom.”
Lincoln nodded and reached up to stroke LJ’s hair, something he had done since LJ was a kid and unable to sleep at night or if he was worrying about something. Lincoln would simply stroke the worry away.
“Well maybe we’ll just have to start spending more time together then. I know I’ve been a little preoccupied this last month, and I’m sorry kiddo.”
“What about Michael?” LJ asked, turning to look at him.
“Well, I’ll have to make time for both of you. Maybe soon we can all do something together. Have dinner or something,” Lincoln suggested hopefully. He had never let a man meet his son before; he hoped they would like each other.
“And me?” Colette asked upon hearing Michael’s name.
Lincoln chuckled. “Sure sweetheart, you too.”
LJ looked at bit warily at him. “You mean I get to meet him? You never let me meet anyone before.”
“Michael is different,” Lincoln said, hoping it sounded casual enough. Letting Michael meet his son was a big step, but one he was willing to take. Michael meant more and more to him every passing day.
“Michael is pretty,” Colette said with uttermost certainty. “And all sad inside.”
Lincoln gave her a sharp look, once again wondering what words had been said between them before the endearing scene he’d witnessed.
“But you make him happy, right Uncle Linc?”
“I hope so,” Lincoln said with a smile for his niece. “I really hope so.”
~~~~~~~~~
Michael had so far had a good day. He hadn’t seen Lincoln in twenty-eight hours and so far he had only thought about him during scheduled breaks. Actually, he had thought about him in between the breaks but it hadn’t affected his work. He had been down to the office to collect some things and he was now sat at his dinning room table with blue prints, sketches and a half-built model strewn across it.
For some reason his mind kept wandering to Lincoln’s family home where he knew the older man to be having dinner. He had also spent some time thinking about Colette, which had resulted in him sketching out a rough draft of a doll’s house for her Barbie. When Michael had been a kid he had loved building little houses and pretending he lived inside them with his mom.
He stared down at the half empty carton of noodles that he had picked up from Shanghai Gardens, his favourite Chinese takeout place. He had gotten used to eating alone but now, since Lincoln had stormed his way into his life, he found he missed having human company, which could be a dangerous thing for Michael.
Every day he could feel himself becoming more and more attached to Lincoln and even worse, he was showing it. From an early age Michael had learnt not to show his emotions, it was as good as showing your hand during a game of poker. When people knew they held the power to hurt you then they did.
He remembered the feel of strong arms pushing him away, not holding him as he had wanted them to. His father had found him crying in the yard and when Michael had turned to him, holding out his arms for his dad to comfort him, he had pushed Michael away and slapped his face, telling him to stop whining and be a man. He was only eight years old.
But Lincoln wasn’t his dad, Lincoln had put him to bed when he had been sick, he had held him close as he felt himself panic and he had taken care of him when he had been unwell. Lincoln had shown him more kindness and affection than Michael had ever known and perhaps it was time to take a chance. It was a risk, giving into his feelings in such a complete way, but the alternative was spending the rest of his life alone, eating Chinese takeout with Jock McBear.
He got up and went into the kitchen. Picking up the phone he dialled Lincoln’s cell, hoping that he wasn’t interrupting their dinner.
“Hello,” Lincoln answered, and Michael felt his heart beat a little faster.
“Hey, it’s me… Michael.”
Lincoln chuckled and it made Michael smile. “I know who ‘me’ is.”
“Oh…” Michael was at loss for what to say, picking up the phone and actually calling Lincoln had been a big enough step. “I went grocery shopping today.”
“Really? I’m so proud of you. What did you buy?”
“Uhm… A lot of stuff.”
“Uh-huh and what did you have for dinner?”
“Take out.”
Lincoln laughed in a way that actually made Michael ache to have him there.
“I’ll teach you how to cook someday. You can’t spend the rest of your life eating take out.”
“Oh… I thought you would cook for me.”
There was a startled silence in the other end. “For the rest of your life?”
Michael swallowed and licked his lips nervously. “If… If you want to… I mean… You don’t have to or anything… Forget that I said it.”
Lincoln was silent for a while and Michael wished he could see his face. “Well Michael Scofield, I have to say I feel kind of like Professor Higgins right now. It’s a proud moment.”
Michael laughed nervously and leaned against the wall. “Am I interrupting your dinner?” he asked when he realised he could hear a lot of voices in the background.
“No, we’ve finished. Everyone’s full up on every Greek lamb dish you can imagine,” Lincoln joked, although he was actually being serious.
“Will you cook something Greek for me tomorrow night?” Michael asked with a smile playing on his lips. For some reason he felt like he wanted to be closer to Lincoln’s heritage.
“Something Greek? Sure,” Lincoln said slowly, trying to think up the perfect dish. “How about souvlaki?”
“What is it?”
“Lamb,” Lincoln answered, making them both laugh. “You’ll love it… listen, I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow at the site right?”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
“Okay. Have a good day. Bye Nipio,” he said and hung up before Michael had a chance to ask what that meant.
Michael put the phone down slowly, wondering why he hadn’t had the courage to ask if Lincoln wanted to come over later, but then the supposed the other man was busy with his family and stuff, probably didn’t have the time for him anyway and not asking beat the hell out of asking and being turned down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lincoln looked at his phone curiously, wondering what Michael had really wanted. He had a hard time believing that the other man had called just because; it wasn’t his style.
“Hey dad. Why are you looking at your phone like it about to spout horns?”
Lincoln looked up guiltily. “Michael called, I was just wondering what he wanted.”
“Didn’t he tell you?”
“Not in so many words no.”
LJ laughed. “He’s a bit weird, isn’t he?”
“Yeah I suppose… But he’s getting better. Three weeks ago he wouldn’t have called even if he’d cut off his hand and my number was the only one he could remember.”
LJ shook his head. “You got it bad dad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in love before.”
“In love,” Lincoln frowned. “I don’t know.”
LJ rolled his eyes and turned up the T.V, flicking through the channels until he came across an old episode of the Simpsons.
Lincoln slowly sat down beside him, still holding his phone carefully in his hand. “What would you know about love anyway?”
LJ pulled his feet up onto the couch and looked over at his dad. “I know the symptoms… I went through this already with mom,” he said disgustedly. “First comes the moony looks into space, then next us the sighing for no good reason and third is changing your appearance.”
Lincoln shook his head. “I haven’t changed my appearance.”
LJ raised his eyebrows. “Oh really? So what’s that stuff growing on your head?” he said as he reached over a rubbed his dad’s new hair.
Lincoln pushed him away playfully. “Smartass!”
TBC
Authors: bwitched83uk and jeyhawk
Series: Yes!
Rating: Overall NC17
Pairing: Michael/Lincoln
Genre: Angst, Romance, Erotica, AU, Slash.
Summary: A life lived in fear, is a life half lived.
Disclaimer: We do not own the characters of Michael Scofield, or Lincoln Burrows, nor are we any way associated with the series Prison Break, or Fox. This is a fictional story using someone else’s characters. Not true.
Feedback: Don’t make us beg.
Beta: clex_monkie89
Warnings: AU, Slash, Sexual Situations
Chapter 13
Patrick Burrows found his only son sitting out on the old swing set he had made Lincoln and his sister Gina when they were kids. The wooden seat was weathered and the rope that held it to the old oak tree was frayed. Patrick was glad that it hadn’t yet broken.
“I keep telling myself I’m going to quit,” he said as he sat on a wooden stump near to Lincoln and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.
Lincoln chuckled and swung a little. “You’ve been saying that since I was seven.”
“You used to hide them from me so I couldn’t find them,” Patrick remembered fondly.
He lit one up and took a puff on it, holding the smoke in his lungs with great pleasure. He wasn’t allowed to smoke in the house anymore, not since his wife Helena had brought new curtains. She didn’t want the house to smell of smoke.
“LJ is inside trying to teach Colette to play his damn skateboard game, that’ll be another unsociable grandkid I got,” Patrick said, resting his elbows on his knees casually.
Lincoln just smiled and looked back at the house. “He’s fifteen, what do you expect? I think we’re lucky he’s still willing to be seen out in public with us, I seem to remember being much worse than he is.”
Patrick’s automatic response was to agree with Lincoln and bring up all the trouble he had put his parents through in the past, but his instincts kicked in quickly enough to stop himself. He didn’t hold any of that against Lincoln. What happened in the past was in the past. Lincoln was a good son and Patrick was damned proud of him.
“So did your fella like the concert?”
Lincoln turned to look at his dad and nodded his head slowly. “Yeah, we had a really good time.”
“Dating a classical music fan, huh? Not your usual choice of ‘friend,’” Patrick pointed out.
“Michael’s different, he’s…” he stopped and sighed, making Patrick laugh slightly.
“Oh, I remember those sighs. I sighed just like that when I looked at your mother for the first time.”
“How did you know that she was the one? That you were in love with her?” Lincoln asked, stopping the swaying swing.
“I just did,” Patrick said with a shrug. “You just know. The first time I saw your mother was in a diner, her parent’s diner. She wore a red dress and I just watched her walk up and down as she waited tables. Finally she stopped right in front of me and said, ‘are you going to watch me all day or are you going to offer to help?’”
Lincoln chuckled as he listened to his dad’s story, not that he hadn’t heard it all before.
“I spent the rest of the day washing up out back and afterwards she closed up and we had some coffee and I asked her out on a date,” Patrick told him, smiling at the fond memories.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence Patrick stood up and placed his hand on Lincoln’s shoulder. “Linc, I think you already know how you feel… we should get inside, they were about to dish up when I came out here. You know how that boy of yours likes to eat all the mashed potatoes before they’ve even hit the table.”
Inside the house Lincoln’s sister walked straight up to him and pulled him aside. “If I hear the name Michael one more time from my daughter’s lips, I’m going to scream.”
Lincoln laughed and looked over at Colette who was now sat up the table next to LJ, still playing on his gameboy.
“I’m afraid LJ might feel the same way,” he said giving his son an affectionate look.
“I don’t get it. She’s never taken a shine to anyone that quickly. What did he do?”
Lincoln shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. He doesn’t exactly have a great hand with children.”
Gina made a ‘pfft’ sound. “It’s obvious to me that he does. You better bring him over for Sunday dinner soon or my daughter will drive me out of my mind,” Gina’s eyes narrowed in the speculating way that Lincoln just knew meant she would have him agreeing to something he didn’t want to. “I got one better. Bring him to Colette’s birthday party. She will be ecstatic.”
Michael won’t, Lincoln thought but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want Gina to dislike Michael before she even met him, but he was pretty sure that Colette’s birthday party would be just another version of Hell for Michael, not to mention the fact that LJ would be there.
But maybe it was time he told Michael the truth about his son. Eventually they were going to have to meet and he really did want them to. He was cooking dinner for him tomorrow night; it would be the perfect time to come clean. Hopefully Michael would understand. It wasn’t like he had openly lied to him.
“Hey dad,” LJ called to him from the dinner table where he and Colette sat patiently for the food to be served. “I think we know what to get Col for her birthday,” he said with a grin as his little cousin hogged his gameboy.
Lincoln laughed and went to join them, taking a seat next to his son. “Are you alright?” he asked LJ quietly. “Last night you sounded pretty… well, like you needed you old man.”
LJ smiled weakly. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, like you should stay home when I’m not there just in case I need you… I just… sometimes I think it would be better if I lived with you all the time but then I know I would miss mom.”
Lincoln nodded and reached up to stroke LJ’s hair, something he had done since LJ was a kid and unable to sleep at night or if he was worrying about something. Lincoln would simply stroke the worry away.
“Well maybe we’ll just have to start spending more time together then. I know I’ve been a little preoccupied this last month, and I’m sorry kiddo.”
“What about Michael?” LJ asked, turning to look at him.
“Well, I’ll have to make time for both of you. Maybe soon we can all do something together. Have dinner or something,” Lincoln suggested hopefully. He had never let a man meet his son before; he hoped they would like each other.
“And me?” Colette asked upon hearing Michael’s name.
Lincoln chuckled. “Sure sweetheart, you too.”
LJ looked at bit warily at him. “You mean I get to meet him? You never let me meet anyone before.”
“Michael is different,” Lincoln said, hoping it sounded casual enough. Letting Michael meet his son was a big step, but one he was willing to take. Michael meant more and more to him every passing day.
“Michael is pretty,” Colette said with uttermost certainty. “And all sad inside.”
Lincoln gave her a sharp look, once again wondering what words had been said between them before the endearing scene he’d witnessed.
“But you make him happy, right Uncle Linc?”
“I hope so,” Lincoln said with a smile for his niece. “I really hope so.”
~~~~~~~~~
Michael had so far had a good day. He hadn’t seen Lincoln in twenty-eight hours and so far he had only thought about him during scheduled breaks. Actually, he had thought about him in between the breaks but it hadn’t affected his work. He had been down to the office to collect some things and he was now sat at his dinning room table with blue prints, sketches and a half-built model strewn across it.
For some reason his mind kept wandering to Lincoln’s family home where he knew the older man to be having dinner. He had also spent some time thinking about Colette, which had resulted in him sketching out a rough draft of a doll’s house for her Barbie. When Michael had been a kid he had loved building little houses and pretending he lived inside them with his mom.
He stared down at the half empty carton of noodles that he had picked up from Shanghai Gardens, his favourite Chinese takeout place. He had gotten used to eating alone but now, since Lincoln had stormed his way into his life, he found he missed having human company, which could be a dangerous thing for Michael.
Every day he could feel himself becoming more and more attached to Lincoln and even worse, he was showing it. From an early age Michael had learnt not to show his emotions, it was as good as showing your hand during a game of poker. When people knew they held the power to hurt you then they did.
He remembered the feel of strong arms pushing him away, not holding him as he had wanted them to. His father had found him crying in the yard and when Michael had turned to him, holding out his arms for his dad to comfort him, he had pushed Michael away and slapped his face, telling him to stop whining and be a man. He was only eight years old.
But Lincoln wasn’t his dad, Lincoln had put him to bed when he had been sick, he had held him close as he felt himself panic and he had taken care of him when he had been unwell. Lincoln had shown him more kindness and affection than Michael had ever known and perhaps it was time to take a chance. It was a risk, giving into his feelings in such a complete way, but the alternative was spending the rest of his life alone, eating Chinese takeout with Jock McBear.
He got up and went into the kitchen. Picking up the phone he dialled Lincoln’s cell, hoping that he wasn’t interrupting their dinner.
“Hello,” Lincoln answered, and Michael felt his heart beat a little faster.
“Hey, it’s me… Michael.”
Lincoln chuckled and it made Michael smile. “I know who ‘me’ is.”
“Oh…” Michael was at loss for what to say, picking up the phone and actually calling Lincoln had been a big enough step. “I went grocery shopping today.”
“Really? I’m so proud of you. What did you buy?”
“Uhm… A lot of stuff.”
“Uh-huh and what did you have for dinner?”
“Take out.”
Lincoln laughed in a way that actually made Michael ache to have him there.
“I’ll teach you how to cook someday. You can’t spend the rest of your life eating take out.”
“Oh… I thought you would cook for me.”
There was a startled silence in the other end. “For the rest of your life?”
Michael swallowed and licked his lips nervously. “If… If you want to… I mean… You don’t have to or anything… Forget that I said it.”
Lincoln was silent for a while and Michael wished he could see his face. “Well Michael Scofield, I have to say I feel kind of like Professor Higgins right now. It’s a proud moment.”
Michael laughed nervously and leaned against the wall. “Am I interrupting your dinner?” he asked when he realised he could hear a lot of voices in the background.
“No, we’ve finished. Everyone’s full up on every Greek lamb dish you can imagine,” Lincoln joked, although he was actually being serious.
“Will you cook something Greek for me tomorrow night?” Michael asked with a smile playing on his lips. For some reason he felt like he wanted to be closer to Lincoln’s heritage.
“Something Greek? Sure,” Lincoln said slowly, trying to think up the perfect dish. “How about souvlaki?”
“What is it?”
“Lamb,” Lincoln answered, making them both laugh. “You’ll love it… listen, I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow at the site right?”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
“Okay. Have a good day. Bye Nipio,” he said and hung up before Michael had a chance to ask what that meant.
Michael put the phone down slowly, wondering why he hadn’t had the courage to ask if Lincoln wanted to come over later, but then the supposed the other man was busy with his family and stuff, probably didn’t have the time for him anyway and not asking beat the hell out of asking and being turned down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lincoln looked at his phone curiously, wondering what Michael had really wanted. He had a hard time believing that the other man had called just because; it wasn’t his style.
“Hey dad. Why are you looking at your phone like it about to spout horns?”
Lincoln looked up guiltily. “Michael called, I was just wondering what he wanted.”
“Didn’t he tell you?”
“Not in so many words no.”
LJ laughed. “He’s a bit weird, isn’t he?”
“Yeah I suppose… But he’s getting better. Three weeks ago he wouldn’t have called even if he’d cut off his hand and my number was the only one he could remember.”
LJ shook his head. “You got it bad dad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in love before.”
“In love,” Lincoln frowned. “I don’t know.”
LJ rolled his eyes and turned up the T.V, flicking through the channels until he came across an old episode of the Simpsons.
Lincoln slowly sat down beside him, still holding his phone carefully in his hand. “What would you know about love anyway?”
LJ pulled his feet up onto the couch and looked over at his dad. “I know the symptoms… I went through this already with mom,” he said disgustedly. “First comes the moony looks into space, then next us the sighing for no good reason and third is changing your appearance.”
Lincoln shook his head. “I haven’t changed my appearance.”
LJ raised his eyebrows. “Oh really? So what’s that stuff growing on your head?” he said as he reached over a rubbed his dad’s new hair.
Lincoln pushed him away playfully. “Smartass!”
TBC