I said I would, and now I am. It's my birthday and I'm having a commentfic meme just for me! roque-clasique started it and it was fun then so hopefully it'll be fun now. Only a few notes
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A Gift From AbovetahirireJune 28 2010, 16:38:22 UTC
So this isn't really a 'breakdown' fic, but the Michael in my head just wouldn't break down for me, but he was very deeply thinky, and this is what I got. ;)
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"I know."
Michael lifts his head from his hands, startled out of his reverie at the sight of Haywire's face, hanging from the upper bunk just inches from his own. The constant buzz of worrying thoughts scatter like a frightened school of fish. He feels himself supressing a chuckle at Haywire's crazy, serious eyes.
"You know what?"
Haywire regards him intensely for a moment, and then he disappears just as fast as he came. Michael listens to the sound of his cell mate rummaging through his sheets, not really wanting to know what he might be looking for.
A hand drops down in front of Micheal's face, clutching a worn scrap of paper.
"Here," comes the disembodied voice, "Use this. It's magic."
Michael just stares at the paper. It contains so much scribbling that he can hardly see the white of it.
"USE MAGIC," Haywire insists, and the fist in Micheal's face shakes insistantly.
"Okay! Okay." He takes the paper, planning to tuck it away somewhere, but a few numbers catch his eye.
He blinks. Are those ...
"Hey, buddy?"
The shaggy head drops down again. "Yes."
"Where did you get this?"
Haywire blushes. "Stole it." He makes a second retreat back to the top bunk.
Michael shakes his head, amazed.
On the paper are credit card numbers, dozens of them, all lined out in the warden's nice, precise handwriting.
Re: A Gift From AbovetahirireJune 28 2010, 23:45:06 UTC
Hee. Michael was my Sam before I had a Sam to have. I never really fell in love with Link except for loving him because Michael loved him - but I loved Michael.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I know."
Michael lifts his head from his hands, startled out of his reverie at the sight of Haywire's face, hanging from the upper bunk just inches from his own. The constant buzz of worrying thoughts scatter like a frightened school of fish. He feels himself supressing a chuckle at Haywire's crazy, serious eyes.
"You know what?"
Haywire regards him intensely for a moment, and then he disappears just as fast as he came. Michael listens to the sound of his cell mate rummaging through his sheets, not really wanting to know what he might be looking for.
A hand drops down in front of Micheal's face, clutching a worn scrap of paper.
"Here," comes the disembodied voice, "Use this. It's magic."
Michael just stares at the paper. It contains so much scribbling that he can hardly see the white of it.
"USE MAGIC," Haywire insists, and the fist in Micheal's face shakes insistantly.
"Okay! Okay." He takes the paper, planning to tuck it away somewhere, but a few numbers catch his eye.
He blinks. Are those ...
"Hey, buddy?"
The shaggy head drops down again. "Yes."
"Where did you get this?"
Haywire blushes. "Stole it." He makes a second retreat back to the top bunk.
Michael shakes his head, amazed.
On the paper are credit card numbers, dozens of them, all lined out in the warden's nice, precise handwriting.
One call to Veronica, and he's got plan B.
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And yeah, I don't see Michael breaking down very easily, either. ;) That's why I said "a bit," hee.
Thank you!
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