Abandon 3/?
Title: Abandon
Author: crowleyangel
Pairing/Characters (or Gen if no pairing): Michael Scofield, Lincoln Burrows, Aldo Burrows, Fernando Sucre, Other(s), Sara Tancredi
Category:
Rating: T (Maybe to M later on)
Summary: Starts in the middle of 'Disconnect'. What happened to Michael as a child? What's he hiding? Is there more to his father's leaving and reappearance then he lets on?
Spoilers (if any): Pilot-Disconnect
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I would love too, but I don't.
You can find chapters one and two at my journal, thanks.
Ch. 3 A Thousand Ways To Ruin
It was the pain that awoke him. Well that and a splash of water. Sputtering Michael opened his eyes, but it was a pointless move as everything around him was in darkness. Trying to rub his eyes Michael found that his hands were bound. Tugging at them he found it was no good, he was tied tight. What the hell?
“Hello Michael,” Drawled a steady leering voice from the corner.
Looking up he saw nothing except the dark outline of a tall man, nothing about him familiar, nothing but his voice. Michael knew that voice. “Alex.”
“Bravo,” Agent Mahone said walking forward into Michael’s visual range. “Why weren’t you that intuitive when I followed Ms Tancredi?”
“You son of a bitch.”
Mahone chuckled, “Actually it was my father that was the bitch, but that’s besides the point. What I want to know at the moment is just where your brother is.”
“There is no way I’m telling you where my brother is,” Michael growled.
“Well,” Mahone said in that quietly intimidating way of his, “That’s too bad.” Reaching one of his long hands out he grasped onto a long medal object, “Now Michael you seem like a decent guy. Smart, intuitive, so I’m going to give you one last chance to tell me where your brother and your little girlfriend are.”
“Go to hell,” Michael said his breathing increasing rapidly.
Mahone nodded and staring Michael straight in the eyes and jammed the object up into his finger.
………………………………..
“Where is he?” Lincoln asked in agitation. His brother had been gone over two hours and none of them had yet to see Sucre come back. Sara had been woken up by an extremely worried Lincoln asking her to call him hoping that Michael was only mad and avoiding his calls.
It wasn’t the case. Now the three of them sat in the motel staring at the door or the phone, scenarios and traps rushing like water through their minds. “Why did Michael even leave?” Sara asked. “That’s not like him…or not like the legal Michael anyway.”
“We got into a fight,” Lincoln murmured beating himself up. How could he have let Michael run off? They were wanted with death threats on each of their heads. Now Michael was god knows where and only because Lincoln had tried to make him open up, but to be fair Michael usually opened up, it wasn’t like him to keep everything inside; it wasn’t like him at all and that’s what worried Lincoln.
If Michael wasn’t acting himself, what else could he do? Was he going to stay level headed or do something rash. He could be in trouble, he could be de- “I have got to stop thinking,” Lincoln whispered to himself.
“What did you get into a fight about?” Sara asked.
“Truthfully? I have no idea.”
Sara raised an eyebrow and looked ready to respond when the door opened and Sucre rushed in. He looked breathless and sweat was beaded at his temples. Gasping he waved at them, “Did Michael come back?”
Lincoln jumped to his feet, “He’s not with you?” Sucre shook his head. “What the hell happened?”
“Feds man,” Sucre said, “They were on to me, aye pendejo!”
“So you didn’t see Michael?” Lincoln pressed.
“Nah man, that’s what I’m saying. I didn’t see him anywhere.”
Lincoln slammed his fist onto the table making the three others jump, “Son of a bitch! Where is he?” Pulling out his phone he tried one last time to call his brother.
……………………………………………………
Sweat dripped down his face in an effort to keep from crying or shouting, anything to show Mahone he was in pain and near backing down. Michael looked up quickly when he heard Mahone come back in. He’d left to make a phone call.
“So apparently your buddy Sucre was spotted just north of where I found you,” The FBI agent drawled.
Michael swallowed praying that he hadn’t been caught or given away Lincoln’s position.
“Are you going to tell me where your brother is? Or do we have to keep up this charade that will end up with me winning anyway.”
Michael looked up at him, hate radiating off of him in waves almost palpable, “Leave my brother out of this.”
Shaking his head Mahone moved forward, “Well unfortunately for you, your brother brought me into this. And I can’t get out; he’s my one way ticket and I fully intended to use him.”
“Why can’t you people just leave him alone, he didn’t do anything. He didn’t kill anyone.” Despair was beginning to sink in on Michael and it was taking all of his will to remain cool throughout this.
Mahone nodded, “I have no interest in your brother. But my employers do, they will work very hard to get what they what. They don’t care about what happens to everyone else.”
“How would you know? You do it! You are helping them, you’re just as bad,” Michael spat at the older man.
“Not everything is black and white.”
“I see that; the blood covering your hands is quite red.” Michael was rewarded with a right hook.
The minutes ticked by slowly and soon Michael lost all track of time, it was odd as he was phenomenal at keeping track of time, but at the moment all he wanted to do was take a shower and see that his brother and Sara were alright. Mahone never let up, blows rained down on Michael between the ever present montage of, “Where is Lincoln Burrows? Where is your brother? Where is Sara Tancredi? Where is your brother?” Over and over again.
Finally Mahone left him alone, soaking in his own blood and wishing he hadn’t stormed out of the motel. But more than anything the horrid sense of déjà vu was creeping in on him. He could remember the last time he was alone and bloody outside of Prison. He had been a kid at the time, but that didn’t stop him memory. That day, those months were ingrained as plainly to him as his tattoo’s.
He stared at the door, willing it to open but feeling a sense of foreboding at what opening it would entail. He was scared but there was no where to hide. He was cold but he had no blanket to hide under. He wanted his brother but his brother was in juvie for the next three months because he’d stolen from a store and had resisted arrest. Michael missed so much it had him sick. His brother had promised to protect him, he’d promised never to leave Michael, but where was he? Because at the moment Michael thought he had never needed him more.
The door swung open and that sickly smile greeted him. His stomach dropped as he was hauled out the door. Looking back at it slamming shut he now wished it had never opened.
“Where is your brother?”
Michael snapped back to reality. Mahone was standing in front of him with a large bucket of something that looked like water. But from the smell it was something very different.
“Where is your brother?”
He just glared at him.
“One last chance,” The agent warned.
Michael did nothing but roll his eyes and Mahone splashed the bucket on him. It burnt and stung his cuts; alcohol, but he’d been through much, much worse and just glared at Mahone.
“Where is your brother? I’ll find him sooner or later. And for your sake I’d make it sooner.”
“You’ll never find my brother,” Michael replied. Then his cell phone rang from the pocket of his jacket, it had been on vibrate the entire time but in the deadly quite the buzz was very audible. Closing his eyes and clenching his teeth Michael heard Mahone answer the phone.
“Hello?”
“Who the hell is this?” Lincoln snarled.
“Someone sent for you two,” Alex said.
“Where is my brother?” Lincoln demanded.
“He’s a bit…tied up at the moment.”
“If you hurt my brother I’ll kill you I swear to god.”
“Empty threat Lincoln,” Mahone answered, “You don’t even know where we are. And in your futile attempts to find us, something might just happen.”
Lincoln let out a hiss, “What do you want?”
“To clean up this mess and go home. Which means you have to come here.”
“Lincoln don’t!” Michael shouted but was quickly silenced by Mahone’s fist.
“All right,” Lincoln sighed. “I’ll come, just don’t touch him again.”
“Better make it quick then Burrows my patience is slipping.” Mahone told him where to meet and was about to hang up when Lincoln added something. “What?”
“I said, if you kill my brother, or hurt him in anyway, I am going to guilty for a murder charge, and it won’t be for Steadman.” With that Lincoln hung up.
Mahone shut the phone and rubbed his eyes, maybe this was going to be done sooner than he thought. “Big brother’s on his way.”
Michael stared at him, sweating dripping, blood running, and fear and anger coursing over him. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
“I don’t?” Mahone asked bemused.
“No you don’t,” Michael said, “Because you really suck at tying knots.” And within the blink of an eye Michael was up and level with his captor. “Psych.”
Author: crowleyangel
Pairing/Characters (or Gen if no pairing): Michael Scofield, Lincoln Burrows, Aldo Burrows, Fernando Sucre, Other(s), Sara Tancredi
Category:
Rating: T (Maybe to M later on)
Summary: Starts in the middle of 'Disconnect'. What happened to Michael as a child? What's he hiding? Is there more to his father's leaving and reappearance then he lets on?
Spoilers (if any): Pilot-Disconnect
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I would love too, but I don't.
You can find chapters one and two at my journal, thanks.
Ch. 3 A Thousand Ways To Ruin
It was the pain that awoke him. Well that and a splash of water. Sputtering Michael opened his eyes, but it was a pointless move as everything around him was in darkness. Trying to rub his eyes Michael found that his hands were bound. Tugging at them he found it was no good, he was tied tight. What the hell?
“Hello Michael,” Drawled a steady leering voice from the corner.
Looking up he saw nothing except the dark outline of a tall man, nothing about him familiar, nothing but his voice. Michael knew that voice. “Alex.”
“Bravo,” Agent Mahone said walking forward into Michael’s visual range. “Why weren’t you that intuitive when I followed Ms Tancredi?”
“You son of a bitch.”
Mahone chuckled, “Actually it was my father that was the bitch, but that’s besides the point. What I want to know at the moment is just where your brother is.”
“There is no way I’m telling you where my brother is,” Michael growled.
“Well,” Mahone said in that quietly intimidating way of his, “That’s too bad.” Reaching one of his long hands out he grasped onto a long medal object, “Now Michael you seem like a decent guy. Smart, intuitive, so I’m going to give you one last chance to tell me where your brother and your little girlfriend are.”
“Go to hell,” Michael said his breathing increasing rapidly.
Mahone nodded and staring Michael straight in the eyes and jammed the object up into his finger.
………………………………..
“Where is he?” Lincoln asked in agitation. His brother had been gone over two hours and none of them had yet to see Sucre come back. Sara had been woken up by an extremely worried Lincoln asking her to call him hoping that Michael was only mad and avoiding his calls.
It wasn’t the case. Now the three of them sat in the motel staring at the door or the phone, scenarios and traps rushing like water through their minds. “Why did Michael even leave?” Sara asked. “That’s not like him…or not like the legal Michael anyway.”
“We got into a fight,” Lincoln murmured beating himself up. How could he have let Michael run off? They were wanted with death threats on each of their heads. Now Michael was god knows where and only because Lincoln had tried to make him open up, but to be fair Michael usually opened up, it wasn’t like him to keep everything inside; it wasn’t like him at all and that’s what worried Lincoln.
If Michael wasn’t acting himself, what else could he do? Was he going to stay level headed or do something rash. He could be in trouble, he could be de- “I have got to stop thinking,” Lincoln whispered to himself.
“What did you get into a fight about?” Sara asked.
“Truthfully? I have no idea.”
Sara raised an eyebrow and looked ready to respond when the door opened and Sucre rushed in. He looked breathless and sweat was beaded at his temples. Gasping he waved at them, “Did Michael come back?”
Lincoln jumped to his feet, “He’s not with you?” Sucre shook his head. “What the hell happened?”
“Feds man,” Sucre said, “They were on to me, aye pendejo!”
“So you didn’t see Michael?” Lincoln pressed.
“Nah man, that’s what I’m saying. I didn’t see him anywhere.”
Lincoln slammed his fist onto the table making the three others jump, “Son of a bitch! Where is he?” Pulling out his phone he tried one last time to call his brother.
……………………………………………………
Sweat dripped down his face in an effort to keep from crying or shouting, anything to show Mahone he was in pain and near backing down. Michael looked up quickly when he heard Mahone come back in. He’d left to make a phone call.
“So apparently your buddy Sucre was spotted just north of where I found you,” The FBI agent drawled.
Michael swallowed praying that he hadn’t been caught or given away Lincoln’s position.
“Are you going to tell me where your brother is? Or do we have to keep up this charade that will end up with me winning anyway.”
Michael looked up at him, hate radiating off of him in waves almost palpable, “Leave my brother out of this.”
Shaking his head Mahone moved forward, “Well unfortunately for you, your brother brought me into this. And I can’t get out; he’s my one way ticket and I fully intended to use him.”
“Why can’t you people just leave him alone, he didn’t do anything. He didn’t kill anyone.” Despair was beginning to sink in on Michael and it was taking all of his will to remain cool throughout this.
Mahone nodded, “I have no interest in your brother. But my employers do, they will work very hard to get what they what. They don’t care about what happens to everyone else.”
“How would you know? You do it! You are helping them, you’re just as bad,” Michael spat at the older man.
“Not everything is black and white.”
“I see that; the blood covering your hands is quite red.” Michael was rewarded with a right hook.
The minutes ticked by slowly and soon Michael lost all track of time, it was odd as he was phenomenal at keeping track of time, but at the moment all he wanted to do was take a shower and see that his brother and Sara were alright. Mahone never let up, blows rained down on Michael between the ever present montage of, “Where is Lincoln Burrows? Where is your brother? Where is Sara Tancredi? Where is your brother?” Over and over again.
Finally Mahone left him alone, soaking in his own blood and wishing he hadn’t stormed out of the motel. But more than anything the horrid sense of déjà vu was creeping in on him. He could remember the last time he was alone and bloody outside of Prison. He had been a kid at the time, but that didn’t stop him memory. That day, those months were ingrained as plainly to him as his tattoo’s.
He stared at the door, willing it to open but feeling a sense of foreboding at what opening it would entail. He was scared but there was no where to hide. He was cold but he had no blanket to hide under. He wanted his brother but his brother was in juvie for the next three months because he’d stolen from a store and had resisted arrest. Michael missed so much it had him sick. His brother had promised to protect him, he’d promised never to leave Michael, but where was he? Because at the moment Michael thought he had never needed him more.
The door swung open and that sickly smile greeted him. His stomach dropped as he was hauled out the door. Looking back at it slamming shut he now wished it had never opened.
“Where is your brother?”
Michael snapped back to reality. Mahone was standing in front of him with a large bucket of something that looked like water. But from the smell it was something very different.
“Where is your brother?”
He just glared at him.
“One last chance,” The agent warned.
Michael did nothing but roll his eyes and Mahone splashed the bucket on him. It burnt and stung his cuts; alcohol, but he’d been through much, much worse and just glared at Mahone.
“Where is your brother? I’ll find him sooner or later. And for your sake I’d make it sooner.”
“You’ll never find my brother,” Michael replied. Then his cell phone rang from the pocket of his jacket, it had been on vibrate the entire time but in the deadly quite the buzz was very audible. Closing his eyes and clenching his teeth Michael heard Mahone answer the phone.
“Hello?”
“Who the hell is this?” Lincoln snarled.
“Someone sent for you two,” Alex said.
“Where is my brother?” Lincoln demanded.
“He’s a bit…tied up at the moment.”
“If you hurt my brother I’ll kill you I swear to god.”
“Empty threat Lincoln,” Mahone answered, “You don’t even know where we are. And in your futile attempts to find us, something might just happen.”
Lincoln let out a hiss, “What do you want?”
“To clean up this mess and go home. Which means you have to come here.”
“Lincoln don’t!” Michael shouted but was quickly silenced by Mahone’s fist.
“All right,” Lincoln sighed. “I’ll come, just don’t touch him again.”
“Better make it quick then Burrows my patience is slipping.” Mahone told him where to meet and was about to hang up when Lincoln added something. “What?”
“I said, if you kill my brother, or hurt him in anyway, I am going to guilty for a murder charge, and it won’t be for Steadman.” With that Lincoln hung up.
Mahone shut the phone and rubbed his eyes, maybe this was going to be done sooner than he thought. “Big brother’s on his way.”
Michael stared at him, sweating dripping, blood running, and fear and anger coursing over him. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
“I don’t?” Mahone asked bemused.
“No you don’t,” Michael said, “Because you really suck at tying knots.” And within the blink of an eye Michael was up and level with his captor. “Psych.”