PB Fanfic: Personal
Title: Personal
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Agent Paul Kellerman
Rating: PG
Spoilers: S2
Word count: 241 words
Summary: War is never personal, but home is.
Author's Note: My first PB fanfiction. For
burntcircles. Happy Birthday, Nona, wish you have a wonderful day! Inspired by pbhiatus_fic Challenge #2: There's No Place Like Home. Thank Laurie for the thorough beta.
He never had a home.
Just 'cause someone spits you out of their crotch doesn't make them your mother. And just 'cause somewhere you live doesn’t make it a home.
Sometimes he would think about Kristine. She was the only person related to family or home or those stuffs. But he hadn’t seen her for 15 years.
Sometimes he wondered that if she had accepted that proposal, what would they have been now. Maybe he would live in the White House as Mr. Reynolds and free captured turkeys on Thanksgiving in front of all American cameras. That’s a ironic shame, free a bird and incarcerate an innocent person, isn’t it?
Sometimes he was complacent about telling a story to get attention, and even proud of showing resourcefulness in an emergency. But he had to use the gay identity to get into Sara Tancredi’s home. He wasn’t that smug of it.
Then all seemed to progress quickly. He drowned Sara in a motel tub, reunited with Kristine, tried to assassinate her who not before long achieved the goal that both of them were striving for along the years.
War is never personal, but home is. At last, he was willing to die, not only because after war he had no own home to rest at, but also he had taken away so many homes from those people for a belief which he didn’t believe in anymore.
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Agent Paul Kellerman
Rating: PG
Spoilers: S2
Word count: 241 words
Summary: War is never personal, but home is.
Author's Note: My first PB fanfiction. For
burntcircles. Happy Birthday, Nona, wish you have a wonderful day! Inspired by pbhiatus_fic Challenge #2: There's No Place Like Home. Thank Laurie for the thorough beta.
He never had a home.
Just 'cause someone spits you out of their crotch doesn't make them your mother. And just 'cause somewhere you live doesn’t make it a home.
Sometimes he would think about Kristine. She was the only person related to family or home or those stuffs. But he hadn’t seen her for 15 years.
Sometimes he wondered that if she had accepted that proposal, what would they have been now. Maybe he would live in the White House as Mr. Reynolds and free captured turkeys on Thanksgiving in front of all American cameras. That’s a ironic shame, free a bird and incarcerate an innocent person, isn’t it?
Sometimes he was complacent about telling a story to get attention, and even proud of showing resourcefulness in an emergency. But he had to use the gay identity to get into Sara Tancredi’s home. He wasn’t that smug of it.
Then all seemed to progress quickly. He drowned Sara in a motel tub, reunited with Kristine, tried to assassinate her who not before long achieved the goal that both of them were striving for along the years.
War is never personal, but home is. At last, he was willing to die, not only because after war he had no own home to rest at, but also he had taken away so many homes from those people for a belief which he didn’t believe in anymore.