Trust
Title:Trust
Author: pemphredouk
Pairing/Characters:Michael, Linc, LJ, Sara, Mahone,Jane
Rating:G
Summary:Lincoln and Michael are still on the run and having to make decisions as to who they do and don't trust. Post S213, but will veer off pretty quickly.
Spoilers:None after S213
Chapter 21 Renaissance
Michael was tentatively inspecting the sandwich he’d bought for lunch. He’d peeled back the top layer of malted bread and was peering at the contents with a puzzled look on his face. Either there wasn’t enough tuna, or mayo, or perhaps bread? He replaced the slice and chucked the whole thing in the trash next to the bench he was sitting on. He was suffering from a hangover and perhaps that was the reason his lunch had tasted off. The hangover was an experience he hadn’t enjoyed for over a year and just like the last time; it was all Lincoln’s fault.
True, the previous one had been self imposed, brought on by a drinking binge that flared out of hearing yet another appeal for Lincoln had failed. Michael had gone to the bar straight from the office and drunk himself into oblivion, waking the next morning to the hangover from hell and for him, something much worse, the appalling realisation he was over an hour late for a site meeting. He’d vowed then, never again…
This time Lincoln had been more directly involved. They’d gone to Lincoln’s new apartment after he’d been released from the police station, and spent the short time available catching up, and for Michael enjoying a long awaited reunion with LJ. Lincoln had been unable to mark the occasion in a fitting way with the necessary booze since he had promised to drive Michael back across town in time to meet his curfew. It was only just before midnight when they were back at Michael’s apartment. Lincoln then revealed his surprise, a case of beer. Michael had tried to be the sensible one, pointing out that he at least had work the next day but to no avail. He’d had to leave Linc asleep on his pullout that morning, snoring and no doubt still too drunk to drive home.
Michael smiled as he remembered the evening, they had talked and talked and once the beer got to them hugged and hugged and he winced as he thought he vaguely remembered several very drunk “Shit I love you bro” kind of speeches from them both. Lincoln hadn’t been able to stop saying sorry until his apologies; especially the more drunken ones became incoherent and nonsensical. Michael was sure at one point that Lincoln’s drunken remorse over his missing toes had led to an offer of a toe transplant! He shook his head quickly at that image.
He checked his watch, he had another twenty minutes before he was due back at work and he sat back and picked up his book, finding his place and started reading. He felt strangely calm and at ease, an unusual feeling for him. His life had been all jagged edges and discomforting confrontations for so long now that simply having a quiet lunch under the shade of a large spreading tree and losing himself in a book was an incredibly pleasurable experience.
His mellowness continued throughout the day and he even joked a few times with the rest of the crew when the inevitable jibes about his celebrity status came up. They weren’t to know that he was about to become the less famous of the brothers once Lincoln had followed through with the deal.
Walking home that evening Michael decided to finally start to make some major changes to his apartment, starting with a new coat of paint. He needed to stop thinking of it as a kind of open jail and more as home. He stepped into the hardware shop and immediately sought the aisle where the paint was displayed. Something neutral, and light, he paced back and forwards and eventually settled on a fresh looking cream, almost a direct match for the lilies he had bought the day before. He walked up to the counter picking up a couple of brushes on the way and waited behind a man who was paying for some fence stain.
As the man pocketed his change he turned and faced Michael, there was a brief flash of incomprehension and then:
“Michael? My god Michael it is you!”
Michael had placed his can of paint on the counter and had turned to stare at the man. “David.” His voice sounded unsure, hesitant and nervous.
“I didn’t realise you were…” a pause, Michael wondered if was he searching for the right word or just feeling uncomfortable using it. “Out.” David responded, taking in Michael’s appearance as he continued to stare.
Michael shifted uneasily from foot to foot, and thrust one of his hands deep into his pocket, conscious that he was still wearing his cemetery overalls and heavy work boots.
“I’ve been out a just few weeks, but it’s um… kind of complicated.” Then seeking something, anything to direct attention away from himself he nodded to the fence stain. “Since when did a downtown loft require fence stain?”
David looked puzzled then realising Michael was referring to his purchase, the stain. He picked it up, “This… no, it’s not for me, it’s for my Dad. He lives around the corner and I promised to help him restain his fence this week. I’ve been so busy at work, this is the first chance I’ve had.”
The mention of work made both men dip their eyes to the ground. “How’s it going at Middleton, Maxwell and Schaum?” Michael asked, not looking David in the eyes. “I wouldn’t really know, I left about a month ago. I set up my own business, found new clients and the phone hasn’t stopped ringing since then, hence the rain check on my Dad’s fence.”
Michael nodded and smiled, “Well that’s good, always knew you were meant for great things.”
“We both were Michael, we were the best associates that place had.”
Michael bit his lower lip and looked away again across the store. He became seemingly intrigued with watching an assistant struggle with a box of hoses. “Yes well, that seems like a long time ago now…”
David frowned slightly at both Michael’s tone and increasingly uncomfortable demeanour, then smiling gently he said, “Hey my Dad’s been waiting for his fence for two months now, he can wait another night. Fancy a drink? Bet you’d like some semi-fresh gossip on the whole Schaum mob.”
Michael hesitated, he hadn’t been prepared for his old life to come crashing in on him like this. Even though he liked David, they’d always worked well together on projects, he wasn’t sure he was ready to share his experiences. But David’s reassuring smile was so genuine and if yesterday was beginning to feel like a renaissance in his life then why not take another step?
He smiled softly. “Sure, that would be good,” simultaneously handing over some cash for the paint.
“Do you want a drink, drink or coffee? I know there’s a Starbucks just round the corner.” David offered. “Err… no,” Michael responded quickly. Starbucks was infuriatingly just outside his allowed area. “Erm what about the bar at the end of the street?”
“Yeah, ok.” They left the shop and casually walked the hundred yards down the street to the bar. They chose stools up at the bar and David ordered the first drinks. Michael winced a little at the thought of yet more alcohol, his hangover was only in slight remission, but accepted the beer with a smile and a “Cheers!”
David wordlessly nodded in reply and then raising his eyebrows slightly he leaned towards Michael. Michael took a swig at the beer and smiled back,
“What?” Knowing full well David was waiting to hear… ’the story’.
“What?” Michael asked again, a smile teasing at his lips as he took another sip from the bottle.
“Oh come on Mikey spill, I want to know all the details!”
Michael’s long fingers smoothed up and down the beer bottle he’d replaced onto the bar, a serious look gathered on his face.
“What did they say, when they heard about the bank? You know… the robbery?” Michael’s voice was surprisingly quiet and uneasy.
“It took a day or too to really hit everyone. You didn’t show that day, and it wasn’t until Charlotte, your PA got that letter later in the afternoon did anyone link you to the bank robbery the day before.”
Michael nodded silently, before murmuring “I’d posted it that morning on my way to the bank.” His mind recalled those last few frantic hours before he entered the bank. “I was really worried something would go wrong and Charlotte would get it too early. But I didn’t like to think that no one would know what happened to me.”
David now nodded in understanding. “Your desk was cleared the same day; the partners called a few of us in, the associates from your dept and some of the admin staff and explained what had happened. And that was it. Your name wasn’t mentioned again, except occasionally a client would call and request you and someone would just say you no longer worked there.”
It was Michael’s turn to sit and listen, he’d often tried to imagine how the ripples would affect his friends and work colleagues, once the tsunami of the bank robbery had died away.
“Things settled down a bit, some of us were going to follow your trial, but it happened so quickly after your arrest and only lasted a morning so we missed it. A couple of us even phoned the prison, to see how we could visit, but they said you weren’t adding anyone to your err…”
“Visitation list?” Michael offered up the phrase to his friend.
Yeah, visitation list, whatever that was.” Responded David. “I know, I had to cut myself completely off from that life, you guys would have brought it back too painfully.”
David shook his head, “What was it like… actually being in there as a prisoner?” Michael was quiet, his fingers still playing with the neck of the beer bottle. David carried on. “I mean I know what it was like, the retrofit had been my project, I’d spent hours walking those corridors and checking the new drain layouts and most of the prisoners had been moved out, but to actually be locked up in there…”
Michael bowed his head and breathed deeply. “It was prison. I’d visited my brother often enough not to be shocked by how it looked, but it felt very different once I was on the wrong side of the visitor’s door.”
“Your brother, he was innocent right? All the conspiracy stuff, that Steadman guy, that all turned out to be true?”
Michael smiled. “Yes he was innocent, and they were going to let him die, I couldn’t let that happen.”
David took another sip of his beer. “The day after you escaped, it went round the floors like wildfire, and no one could believe it. 'Michael Scofield' the guy who never once over-claimed his expenses or got a parking ticket on his company car had not only robbed a bank at gunpoint but less than two months later escaped from a maximum security prison with seven other convicts.
Suddenly your face was plastered over all the channels. Reporters even came to the office for stories, they were interviewing everyone including the janitor. Then the FBI came, they wanted to know about the plans, and how much information you would have been able to access. I was interviewed briefly, since I’d worked on the project. It was only when I went to get the main set of plans from the unit and found they were gone, that I realised how you’d done it.” He laughed softly, “Man that was some plan.
Hey the TV and papers said you tattooed them on your body? That was just too crazy for most of us… I mean as if….” His voice faltered as he cast his eyes down to Michael’s wrist and caught the unmistakable blue grey colouring of a tattoo. David shook his head, “Michael, this is just incredible.” He seemed slightly stunned and paused, then continued. “The partners had quite a lot of explaining to do after they realised you’d been able to simply walk in and take the plans for a maximum security prison. Everything is now locked up and you need security access cards before you can so much look at a spec book.”
“Sorry for that,” Michael replied.
“Hey it’s no big deal for me, I’m not there any longer remember.”
They’d both finished their beers but Michael was relaxing back into the normalcy of this whole situation and ordered two more.
“So what are you doing over this side of town, you out on parole?” “Not quite, I don’t think they were sure what to do with me after the conspiracy broke and my brother was released. They didn’t want to throw the book at me for the escape, because after all I’d stopped the state murdering an innocent person. But I was… am still a convicted felon and some kind of punishment was deemed necessary. So... I’m on the electronic monitoring project.”
David’s face looked blank.
“I’m tagged.” and Michael discreetly lifted the leg of his pants until the small unit could be seen strapped to his ankle.
“Ah,” responded David, “that’s neat. So you’re free, kind of?”
“Uh uh.” Michael shook his head. “I’m out on a licence. I have to stay within a very small area of town, just a few streets really, centred around my work and the housing project I live in."
“Oh so not free, that sounds kinda grim.” David grimaced as he spoke.
“It’s better than The County Jail, or Fox River or Statesville, or the Border Patrol unit in Las Cruces or a rather small holding cell in a god forsaken town in New Mexico... none of which I would recommend.” Michael reeled off all the places he had been chained and locked up in, ticking off his mental register of places he never wanted to visit again.
“So you mentioned work?”
“Yes I have a job, working at the cemetery, hence these,” as he gestured at his clothes.
“Ah I did wonder, thought they may have been your painting clothes.”
“Well that’s why I wore them home tonight to be honest.” Michael answered. David turned his face to the television set that was on in the corner. It was another bleak report from Iraq. He turned back to Michael,
“I think that was the strangest thing, seeing you up on the screen all the time while you were on the run, every newscast had an update, Scofield and Burrows seen in Wyoming, Colorado, Louisiana, that mug shot of you that made you look like a…”
“Criminal?” Suggested Michael barely suppressing a grin.
“Yeah like a criminal.” David replied failing to notice the smirk on his ex-colleague’s face.
Michael continued to grin at David’s comment until it turned into a real laugh and he threw his head back slapping David on the back as he did.
“What’s so funny?” Asked David, puzzled. “Ahh yeah, ok.” He answered his own question and smiled. “Anyway… The girls in the office, well they started to take a real interest. Mind you Mikey, they always had taken an interest in you.” Michael blushed slightly.
“They pinned a map of the States up in the coffee room and started sticking pins in all the locations you were supposed to be. It was kind of funny for a while, but then of course the others, the ones that escaped with you…”
Michael nodded as images of Tweener, Haywire and Abruzzi flashed before his eyes.
“Well they were getting killed and it suddenly seemed to become really serious. It was about then that I moved on, I asked Charlotte to come with me, she’d been miserable since you’d left and jumped at the chance to join my new firm.”
“Of course she jumped at the chance David, she’s always liked you!”
“She has? Oh…” A slightly dippy smile crossed his face. ”I didn’t know, I thought she was always moping over you in the office like the rest of the female staff.” “
Uh uh, no.” Michael shook his head vehemently, “It was always you trust me. If she’s working for you now, maybe something could happen?” Michael suggested.
“Yeah maybe. Hey that’s another thing I want the full story on, this whole thing with the lady Doctor at the prison, all the speculation in the papers that you guys had something going?”
Michael frowned briefly, and noticing a small drop of beer on the polished wooden counter started to spread it in circles with his finger.
“I don’t know what they said about us, she always acted… professionally.”
David tilted his head slightly as he watched Michael’s face closely. “And you kind of wished she hadn’t?” Michael sighed, “I made things very difficult for her, it ended up a mess, and she’s flying to South America tomorrow so that’s all there is to know.” He finished this last sentence with a forced upbeat in his tone and he knew he was fooling no one, especially David.
They both went quiet for a while, draining the last of their beer.
David had a strange look in his eyes, and Michael noticed a flash of doubt and then determination spread across his face. “Michael, do you have to do the job they gave you?”
Michael turned slowly towards David, realising almost immediately where this was leading. “I don’t know, I couldn’t be released onto the project without a guaranteed job and there weren’t many openings for Structural Engineers with ‘criminal tendencies and a penchant for reverse engineering buildings’.”
“Yeah well that’s the big firm’s attitude, they’re too stuffy and snobby, but the small ones… Those that recognise talent, that know you’re the best project leader in town and that you never over claim your expenses…” Michael just stared back at David, unable to speak.
“Michael, would you consider coming to work with me? It’s the perfect answer to my problems of too much new work and not enough hours in the day. I’m still small, I need to really trust my partner.”
Michael was shaking his head slowly, but inside his heart was lifting with the knowledge that someone from his old life ‘trusted’ him. A state he had feared would never occur again, ”I’m not sure David; I mean I don’t know if they would allow it. Socurto, the guy who monitors me would have to decide.”
“Hey it’s a pukka job I’m offering you, real pay, the benefits stink mind you and the office is a bit basic at the moment. In fact I’m not sure how we’d squeeze another desk in… but we’d manage.”
A slow smile started to spread across Michael’s face, and at the same time hope built in his chest as he saw for the first time a tenuous bridge back to his old life appearing as if out of the mist.
“David are you sure? Your clients might not appreciate you having a felon on your staff.”
“You are kidding Michael? You really aren’t aware of your status are you? You’re a hero. In fact I’m gonna make sure your ugly mug is on the front of all my professional brochures, I can’t loose having the famous...”
“Don’t you mean infamous?” Michael corrected him.
“Famous,” David restated, “Michael Scofield working with me. Hey, don’t suppose we could get shots of the tattoos as well?”
“No way.” Michael shook laughter. Then a disturbing thought crept in under his new happiness and threatened to bring it all crashing down. “David, where are your offices? I can’t travel remember, I wouldn’t be able to do site or client visits.”
“Hmm they’re a few miles away, it was cheaper to be based in Burr Ridge rather than downtown. Will that be a problem?”
“I’m not sure, I think the area I’m allocated is based on where I work and live, I’d need to ask.” They both were silent again, until Michael turned and faced David. ”Listen I’m really grateful for the offer, but I think for both our sakes you’d better go away and think about it and the ramifications of having an ex-con on the payroll. Call me again in a couple of days, which will give me a chance to check out what the DOC will allow me ok?” He reached over and took a paper napkin off a nearby pile and scribbled his telephone number on it.
David nodded. “Yeah sure Michael, but I’m not going to retract the offer, we’ll just have to find a way around the location thing if they get sticky with you.”
Then he sighed, “Right, I’d better go back and face Dad, it’s too dark to do the fence now.”
Michael nodded, “Listen I’ll come and help if you can leave it till he weekend?” He hesitated slightly; suddenly anxious at how his suggestion would be taken. “That is of course, if your Dad doesn’t mind me coming to the house?”
“Why would he mind?”
“Well…” he shrugged his shoulders. “Well because I’m a convict I guess.”
“Don’t be stupid, Michael. No one thinks of you as a convict…”
Michael said his goodbyes as they left the bar, and started to walk home. Maybe that was the problem, maybe he will always think of himself as tainted now. He used to be a good man once, it seemed he couldn’t accept that he might be again, one day.
TBC
Author: pemphredouk
Pairing/Characters:Michael, Linc, LJ, Sara, Mahone,Jane
Rating:G
Summary:Lincoln and Michael are still on the run and having to make decisions as to who they do and don't trust. Post S213, but will veer off pretty quickly.
Spoilers:None after S213
Chapter 21 Renaissance
Michael was tentatively inspecting the sandwich he’d bought for lunch. He’d peeled back the top layer of malted bread and was peering at the contents with a puzzled look on his face. Either there wasn’t enough tuna, or mayo, or perhaps bread? He replaced the slice and chucked the whole thing in the trash next to the bench he was sitting on. He was suffering from a hangover and perhaps that was the reason his lunch had tasted off. The hangover was an experience he hadn’t enjoyed for over a year and just like the last time; it was all Lincoln’s fault.
True, the previous one had been self imposed, brought on by a drinking binge that flared out of hearing yet another appeal for Lincoln had failed. Michael had gone to the bar straight from the office and drunk himself into oblivion, waking the next morning to the hangover from hell and for him, something much worse, the appalling realisation he was over an hour late for a site meeting. He’d vowed then, never again…
This time Lincoln had been more directly involved. They’d gone to Lincoln’s new apartment after he’d been released from the police station, and spent the short time available catching up, and for Michael enjoying a long awaited reunion with LJ. Lincoln had been unable to mark the occasion in a fitting way with the necessary booze since he had promised to drive Michael back across town in time to meet his curfew. It was only just before midnight when they were back at Michael’s apartment. Lincoln then revealed his surprise, a case of beer. Michael had tried to be the sensible one, pointing out that he at least had work the next day but to no avail. He’d had to leave Linc asleep on his pullout that morning, snoring and no doubt still too drunk to drive home.
Michael smiled as he remembered the evening, they had talked and talked and once the beer got to them hugged and hugged and he winced as he thought he vaguely remembered several very drunk “Shit I love you bro” kind of speeches from them both. Lincoln hadn’t been able to stop saying sorry until his apologies; especially the more drunken ones became incoherent and nonsensical. Michael was sure at one point that Lincoln’s drunken remorse over his missing toes had led to an offer of a toe transplant! He shook his head quickly at that image.
He checked his watch, he had another twenty minutes before he was due back at work and he sat back and picked up his book, finding his place and started reading. He felt strangely calm and at ease, an unusual feeling for him. His life had been all jagged edges and discomforting confrontations for so long now that simply having a quiet lunch under the shade of a large spreading tree and losing himself in a book was an incredibly pleasurable experience.
His mellowness continued throughout the day and he even joked a few times with the rest of the crew when the inevitable jibes about his celebrity status came up. They weren’t to know that he was about to become the less famous of the brothers once Lincoln had followed through with the deal.
Walking home that evening Michael decided to finally start to make some major changes to his apartment, starting with a new coat of paint. He needed to stop thinking of it as a kind of open jail and more as home. He stepped into the hardware shop and immediately sought the aisle where the paint was displayed. Something neutral, and light, he paced back and forwards and eventually settled on a fresh looking cream, almost a direct match for the lilies he had bought the day before. He walked up to the counter picking up a couple of brushes on the way and waited behind a man who was paying for some fence stain.
As the man pocketed his change he turned and faced Michael, there was a brief flash of incomprehension and then:
“Michael? My god Michael it is you!”
Michael had placed his can of paint on the counter and had turned to stare at the man. “David.” His voice sounded unsure, hesitant and nervous.
“I didn’t realise you were…” a pause, Michael wondered if was he searching for the right word or just feeling uncomfortable using it. “Out.” David responded, taking in Michael’s appearance as he continued to stare.
Michael shifted uneasily from foot to foot, and thrust one of his hands deep into his pocket, conscious that he was still wearing his cemetery overalls and heavy work boots.
“I’ve been out a just few weeks, but it’s um… kind of complicated.” Then seeking something, anything to direct attention away from himself he nodded to the fence stain. “Since when did a downtown loft require fence stain?”
David looked puzzled then realising Michael was referring to his purchase, the stain. He picked it up, “This… no, it’s not for me, it’s for my Dad. He lives around the corner and I promised to help him restain his fence this week. I’ve been so busy at work, this is the first chance I’ve had.”
The mention of work made both men dip their eyes to the ground. “How’s it going at Middleton, Maxwell and Schaum?” Michael asked, not looking David in the eyes. “I wouldn’t really know, I left about a month ago. I set up my own business, found new clients and the phone hasn’t stopped ringing since then, hence the rain check on my Dad’s fence.”
Michael nodded and smiled, “Well that’s good, always knew you were meant for great things.”
“We both were Michael, we were the best associates that place had.”
Michael bit his lower lip and looked away again across the store. He became seemingly intrigued with watching an assistant struggle with a box of hoses. “Yes well, that seems like a long time ago now…”
David frowned slightly at both Michael’s tone and increasingly uncomfortable demeanour, then smiling gently he said, “Hey my Dad’s been waiting for his fence for two months now, he can wait another night. Fancy a drink? Bet you’d like some semi-fresh gossip on the whole Schaum mob.”
Michael hesitated, he hadn’t been prepared for his old life to come crashing in on him like this. Even though he liked David, they’d always worked well together on projects, he wasn’t sure he was ready to share his experiences. But David’s reassuring smile was so genuine and if yesterday was beginning to feel like a renaissance in his life then why not take another step?
He smiled softly. “Sure, that would be good,” simultaneously handing over some cash for the paint.
“Do you want a drink, drink or coffee? I know there’s a Starbucks just round the corner.” David offered. “Err… no,” Michael responded quickly. Starbucks was infuriatingly just outside his allowed area. “Erm what about the bar at the end of the street?”
“Yeah, ok.” They left the shop and casually walked the hundred yards down the street to the bar. They chose stools up at the bar and David ordered the first drinks. Michael winced a little at the thought of yet more alcohol, his hangover was only in slight remission, but accepted the beer with a smile and a “Cheers!”
David wordlessly nodded in reply and then raising his eyebrows slightly he leaned towards Michael. Michael took a swig at the beer and smiled back,
“What?” Knowing full well David was waiting to hear… ’the story’.
“What?” Michael asked again, a smile teasing at his lips as he took another sip from the bottle.
“Oh come on Mikey spill, I want to know all the details!”
Michael’s long fingers smoothed up and down the beer bottle he’d replaced onto the bar, a serious look gathered on his face.
“What did they say, when they heard about the bank? You know… the robbery?” Michael’s voice was surprisingly quiet and uneasy.
“It took a day or too to really hit everyone. You didn’t show that day, and it wasn’t until Charlotte, your PA got that letter later in the afternoon did anyone link you to the bank robbery the day before.”
Michael nodded silently, before murmuring “I’d posted it that morning on my way to the bank.” His mind recalled those last few frantic hours before he entered the bank. “I was really worried something would go wrong and Charlotte would get it too early. But I didn’t like to think that no one would know what happened to me.”
David now nodded in understanding. “Your desk was cleared the same day; the partners called a few of us in, the associates from your dept and some of the admin staff and explained what had happened. And that was it. Your name wasn’t mentioned again, except occasionally a client would call and request you and someone would just say you no longer worked there.”
It was Michael’s turn to sit and listen, he’d often tried to imagine how the ripples would affect his friends and work colleagues, once the tsunami of the bank robbery had died away.
“Things settled down a bit, some of us were going to follow your trial, but it happened so quickly after your arrest and only lasted a morning so we missed it. A couple of us even phoned the prison, to see how we could visit, but they said you weren’t adding anyone to your err…”
“Visitation list?” Michael offered up the phrase to his friend.
Yeah, visitation list, whatever that was.” Responded David. “I know, I had to cut myself completely off from that life, you guys would have brought it back too painfully.”
David shook his head, “What was it like… actually being in there as a prisoner?” Michael was quiet, his fingers still playing with the neck of the beer bottle. David carried on. “I mean I know what it was like, the retrofit had been my project, I’d spent hours walking those corridors and checking the new drain layouts and most of the prisoners had been moved out, but to actually be locked up in there…”
Michael bowed his head and breathed deeply. “It was prison. I’d visited my brother often enough not to be shocked by how it looked, but it felt very different once I was on the wrong side of the visitor’s door.”
“Your brother, he was innocent right? All the conspiracy stuff, that Steadman guy, that all turned out to be true?”
Michael smiled. “Yes he was innocent, and they were going to let him die, I couldn’t let that happen.”
David took another sip of his beer. “The day after you escaped, it went round the floors like wildfire, and no one could believe it. 'Michael Scofield' the guy who never once over-claimed his expenses or got a parking ticket on his company car had not only robbed a bank at gunpoint but less than two months later escaped from a maximum security prison with seven other convicts.
Suddenly your face was plastered over all the channels. Reporters even came to the office for stories, they were interviewing everyone including the janitor. Then the FBI came, they wanted to know about the plans, and how much information you would have been able to access. I was interviewed briefly, since I’d worked on the project. It was only when I went to get the main set of plans from the unit and found they were gone, that I realised how you’d done it.” He laughed softly, “Man that was some plan.
Hey the TV and papers said you tattooed them on your body? That was just too crazy for most of us… I mean as if….” His voice faltered as he cast his eyes down to Michael’s wrist and caught the unmistakable blue grey colouring of a tattoo. David shook his head, “Michael, this is just incredible.” He seemed slightly stunned and paused, then continued. “The partners had quite a lot of explaining to do after they realised you’d been able to simply walk in and take the plans for a maximum security prison. Everything is now locked up and you need security access cards before you can so much look at a spec book.”
“Sorry for that,” Michael replied.
“Hey it’s no big deal for me, I’m not there any longer remember.”
They’d both finished their beers but Michael was relaxing back into the normalcy of this whole situation and ordered two more.
“So what are you doing over this side of town, you out on parole?” “Not quite, I don’t think they were sure what to do with me after the conspiracy broke and my brother was released. They didn’t want to throw the book at me for the escape, because after all I’d stopped the state murdering an innocent person. But I was… am still a convicted felon and some kind of punishment was deemed necessary. So... I’m on the electronic monitoring project.”
David’s face looked blank.
“I’m tagged.” and Michael discreetly lifted the leg of his pants until the small unit could be seen strapped to his ankle.
“Ah,” responded David, “that’s neat. So you’re free, kind of?”
“Uh uh.” Michael shook his head. “I’m out on a licence. I have to stay within a very small area of town, just a few streets really, centred around my work and the housing project I live in."
“Oh so not free, that sounds kinda grim.” David grimaced as he spoke.
“It’s better than The County Jail, or Fox River or Statesville, or the Border Patrol unit in Las Cruces or a rather small holding cell in a god forsaken town in New Mexico... none of which I would recommend.” Michael reeled off all the places he had been chained and locked up in, ticking off his mental register of places he never wanted to visit again.
“So you mentioned work?”
“Yes I have a job, working at the cemetery, hence these,” as he gestured at his clothes.
“Ah I did wonder, thought they may have been your painting clothes.”
“Well that’s why I wore them home tonight to be honest.” Michael answered. David turned his face to the television set that was on in the corner. It was another bleak report from Iraq. He turned back to Michael,
“I think that was the strangest thing, seeing you up on the screen all the time while you were on the run, every newscast had an update, Scofield and Burrows seen in Wyoming, Colorado, Louisiana, that mug shot of you that made you look like a…”
“Criminal?” Suggested Michael barely suppressing a grin.
“Yeah like a criminal.” David replied failing to notice the smirk on his ex-colleague’s face.
Michael continued to grin at David’s comment until it turned into a real laugh and he threw his head back slapping David on the back as he did.
“What’s so funny?” Asked David, puzzled. “Ahh yeah, ok.” He answered his own question and smiled. “Anyway… The girls in the office, well they started to take a real interest. Mind you Mikey, they always had taken an interest in you.” Michael blushed slightly.
“They pinned a map of the States up in the coffee room and started sticking pins in all the locations you were supposed to be. It was kind of funny for a while, but then of course the others, the ones that escaped with you…”
Michael nodded as images of Tweener, Haywire and Abruzzi flashed before his eyes.
“Well they were getting killed and it suddenly seemed to become really serious. It was about then that I moved on, I asked Charlotte to come with me, she’d been miserable since you’d left and jumped at the chance to join my new firm.”
“Of course she jumped at the chance David, she’s always liked you!”
“She has? Oh…” A slightly dippy smile crossed his face. ”I didn’t know, I thought she was always moping over you in the office like the rest of the female staff.” “
Uh uh, no.” Michael shook his head vehemently, “It was always you trust me. If she’s working for you now, maybe something could happen?” Michael suggested.
“Yeah maybe. Hey that’s another thing I want the full story on, this whole thing with the lady Doctor at the prison, all the speculation in the papers that you guys had something going?”
Michael frowned briefly, and noticing a small drop of beer on the polished wooden counter started to spread it in circles with his finger.
“I don’t know what they said about us, she always acted… professionally.”
David tilted his head slightly as he watched Michael’s face closely. “And you kind of wished she hadn’t?” Michael sighed, “I made things very difficult for her, it ended up a mess, and she’s flying to South America tomorrow so that’s all there is to know.” He finished this last sentence with a forced upbeat in his tone and he knew he was fooling no one, especially David.
They both went quiet for a while, draining the last of their beer.
David had a strange look in his eyes, and Michael noticed a flash of doubt and then determination spread across his face. “Michael, do you have to do the job they gave you?”
Michael turned slowly towards David, realising almost immediately where this was leading. “I don’t know, I couldn’t be released onto the project without a guaranteed job and there weren’t many openings for Structural Engineers with ‘criminal tendencies and a penchant for reverse engineering buildings’.”
“Yeah well that’s the big firm’s attitude, they’re too stuffy and snobby, but the small ones… Those that recognise talent, that know you’re the best project leader in town and that you never over claim your expenses…” Michael just stared back at David, unable to speak.
“Michael, would you consider coming to work with me? It’s the perfect answer to my problems of too much new work and not enough hours in the day. I’m still small, I need to really trust my partner.”
Michael was shaking his head slowly, but inside his heart was lifting with the knowledge that someone from his old life ‘trusted’ him. A state he had feared would never occur again, ”I’m not sure David; I mean I don’t know if they would allow it. Socurto, the guy who monitors me would have to decide.”
“Hey it’s a pukka job I’m offering you, real pay, the benefits stink mind you and the office is a bit basic at the moment. In fact I’m not sure how we’d squeeze another desk in… but we’d manage.”
A slow smile started to spread across Michael’s face, and at the same time hope built in his chest as he saw for the first time a tenuous bridge back to his old life appearing as if out of the mist.
“David are you sure? Your clients might not appreciate you having a felon on your staff.”
“You are kidding Michael? You really aren’t aware of your status are you? You’re a hero. In fact I’m gonna make sure your ugly mug is on the front of all my professional brochures, I can’t loose having the famous...”
“Don’t you mean infamous?” Michael corrected him.
“Famous,” David restated, “Michael Scofield working with me. Hey, don’t suppose we could get shots of the tattoos as well?”
“No way.” Michael shook laughter. Then a disturbing thought crept in under his new happiness and threatened to bring it all crashing down. “David, where are your offices? I can’t travel remember, I wouldn’t be able to do site or client visits.”
“Hmm they’re a few miles away, it was cheaper to be based in Burr Ridge rather than downtown. Will that be a problem?”
“I’m not sure, I think the area I’m allocated is based on where I work and live, I’d need to ask.” They both were silent again, until Michael turned and faced David. ”Listen I’m really grateful for the offer, but I think for both our sakes you’d better go away and think about it and the ramifications of having an ex-con on the payroll. Call me again in a couple of days, which will give me a chance to check out what the DOC will allow me ok?” He reached over and took a paper napkin off a nearby pile and scribbled his telephone number on it.
David nodded. “Yeah sure Michael, but I’m not going to retract the offer, we’ll just have to find a way around the location thing if they get sticky with you.”
Then he sighed, “Right, I’d better go back and face Dad, it’s too dark to do the fence now.”
Michael nodded, “Listen I’ll come and help if you can leave it till he weekend?” He hesitated slightly; suddenly anxious at how his suggestion would be taken. “That is of course, if your Dad doesn’t mind me coming to the house?”
“Why would he mind?”
“Well…” he shrugged his shoulders. “Well because I’m a convict I guess.”
“Don’t be stupid, Michael. No one thinks of you as a convict…”
Michael said his goodbyes as they left the bar, and started to walk home. Maybe that was the problem, maybe he will always think of himself as tainted now. He used to be a good man once, it seemed he couldn’t accept that he might be again, one day.
TBC