Fic: Through These Walls. (Michael/Lincoln, AU, Multi-Chapter)
Title: Through These Walls.
Author: cocksmoker1
Pairings: Michael/Lincoln.
Genre: AU, dark!fic.
Characters: Sara Tancreadi, LJ, Nick, Michael/Lincoln.
Word count: Each chapter has 1,000+ words.
Warnings: This fic has many adult themes so far, including; violence, language, mentions of self-harm and mild descriptions, fluff, cutely disgusting feelings.
Summary: Michael asks a fellow inmate to help him with a small task; Michael never thought he'd end up living with him and son. Is it possible to make a family from a bunch of ex-inmates?
Authors Note: This is part one of my "Take Me Home" 'Verse, there are six chapters so far, It's a work in progress.
It wasn’t the first time, no. This was one of many times Lincoln Burrows had found himself in a particularly dangerous situation inside the cold, menacing walls of Fox River State Penitentiary that stared relentlessly at him for hours on end, noise ever so close from the mouths of the other inmates, persecuted for different reasons. Lincoln stood, his back pressed against to the wall of his cell, a shank pointed at him; the life-threatening point inches from his kidney, puncturing the skin would have had devastating effects.
Blue eyes and a menacing face entered the cramped cell, followed by a slim, yet muscular body, "leave" was the only word needed for that shank to be stuffed inside blue pants, worn by most, if not all, inmates. The wielder left, sending scornful looks towards the man standing with a shadow covering everything on his face, but his eyes. They look calm, yet steady, almost as if everything inside this man was dead. No emotion or thought were concealed, as if he acted on impulse alone.
That impulse just saved Lincoln’s life; a bead of sweat fell from his nose as the relief washed over him. "Thanks." Lincoln said curtly, ignoring the fact that the other man just stood and stared at him. "No problem. My name is Michael Scofield." The man replied, still standing within the shadow. "Ah. Heard of you," Lincoln replied, taking a step toward him "why is it that everyone in this shithole is scared of you?" The man sighed, taking a step out of the shadow, "I was arrested for petty theft, nobody in here is scared of what I’ve done, but they’re scared of what I can do." The man let this sink in for a moment, scanning the hard body standing in front of him, muscles everywhere, a staunch figure, who would want to hurt it? This was Fox River after-all, who wouldn’t?
"You said you were done for petty-theft? Same here, 5 years I got in this hole, got 6 months left." Lincoln said, trying to get this man to speak, "Mm. Keep that information in that pretty little head of yours. I need your help, can I trust you?" the man replied nonchalantly, taking a step out of the shadow. A blue long-sleeved standard prison shirt loose against his arms, slim but muscular like the rest of him, his short cropped hair a dirty blonde colour. "With?" Lincoln asked, stepping forward, "It’s a small task. I need a match, just a match." Michael turned and left with no response.
Michael Scofield, a petty thief from the busy streets of New York City, was a good person, aside from doing the things he had to do. He acted in theft after his mother died and his father left, to survive. Being thrown around various foster homes, he’d accounted his fair share of horror stories. He was popular with the girls, mainly because of his charm. Michael Scofield could swoon any girl in to anything he wanted, though it wasn’t common for him to actually sleep with them, due to a disorder he acquired at a young age.
-x-x-x-
Michael Scofield sat in the chapel of the prison, he wasn’t necessarily religious, but he needed time to get away from the bodies surrounding him all day, every day. Burrows walked in the door as planned, and took a seat beside him. "Here, the match." Burrows said, handing over a small box of ‘Redhead’s’. Michael took the match out of its box; it’s home and struck it, letting it burn for a few seconds before pressing it sharply into his skin - right on the main vain in his wrist. It burned, skin crackled and blood began to rise, spilling over the new hole. "What the fuck?" Burrows said, turning to leave. "In a few seconds, I will be unconscious. Call the boss, get him here. Now." Scofield said, his wrist and the carpet below him covered in a sticky-red liquid and would soon become a red stain, more drops of bloodshed in Fox River.
Burrows went and got Officer Bellick, who called the infirmary. Michael lay on the floor, unconscious, as he predicted.
-x-x-x-
Dr. Sara Tancredi was the first person Michael saw once he came around, the dizzy-numbness of being unconscious still clung lightly at the edges of his vision, everything blurry and bright.
"I came to say goodbye... You know I get out in two days, I wouldn’t be able to see you by then. Goodbye, Sara. Thanks, for everything." For the first time Dr.Tancredi noted that there was an emotion showing through Michael’s eyes, admiration, maybe? Sara kept on applying antiseptic, staying silent for a couple moments before asking a question she hadn’t dared before now, "What’re you planning on doing, ya’know, once you get out of here?" Sara applied a bandage slowly, hoping to get an answer out of Michael. "Never looking back," He replied, focusing on Sara bandaging him "Putting this all behind me. Starting anew, I even have a job interview lined up." Michael smiled a plastic smile.
The whole time Michael sat in the Infirmary, his mind played on Burrows. Imagining walking out with him, but dismissed the thought. Once he left, he left everything here in his cell.
Author: cocksmoker1
Pairings: Michael/Lincoln.
Genre: AU, dark!fic.
Characters: Sara Tancreadi, LJ, Nick, Michael/Lincoln.
Word count: Each chapter has 1,000+ words.
Warnings: This fic has many adult themes so far, including; violence, language, mentions of self-harm and mild descriptions, fluff, cutely disgusting feelings.
Summary: Michael asks a fellow inmate to help him with a small task; Michael never thought he'd end up living with him and son. Is it possible to make a family from a bunch of ex-inmates?
Authors Note: This is part one of my "Take Me Home" 'Verse, there are six chapters so far, It's a work in progress.
It wasn’t the first time, no. This was one of many times Lincoln Burrows had found himself in a particularly dangerous situation inside the cold, menacing walls of Fox River State Penitentiary that stared relentlessly at him for hours on end, noise ever so close from the mouths of the other inmates, persecuted for different reasons. Lincoln stood, his back pressed against to the wall of his cell, a shank pointed at him; the life-threatening point inches from his kidney, puncturing the skin would have had devastating effects.
Blue eyes and a menacing face entered the cramped cell, followed by a slim, yet muscular body, "leave" was the only word needed for that shank to be stuffed inside blue pants, worn by most, if not all, inmates. The wielder left, sending scornful looks towards the man standing with a shadow covering everything on his face, but his eyes. They look calm, yet steady, almost as if everything inside this man was dead. No emotion or thought were concealed, as if he acted on impulse alone.
That impulse just saved Lincoln’s life; a bead of sweat fell from his nose as the relief washed over him. "Thanks." Lincoln said curtly, ignoring the fact that the other man just stood and stared at him. "No problem. My name is Michael Scofield." The man replied, still standing within the shadow. "Ah. Heard of you," Lincoln replied, taking a step toward him "why is it that everyone in this shithole is scared of you?" The man sighed, taking a step out of the shadow, "I was arrested for petty theft, nobody in here is scared of what I’ve done, but they’re scared of what I can do." The man let this sink in for a moment, scanning the hard body standing in front of him, muscles everywhere, a staunch figure, who would want to hurt it? This was Fox River after-all, who wouldn’t?
"You said you were done for petty-theft? Same here, 5 years I got in this hole, got 6 months left." Lincoln said, trying to get this man to speak, "Mm. Keep that information in that pretty little head of yours. I need your help, can I trust you?" the man replied nonchalantly, taking a step out of the shadow. A blue long-sleeved standard prison shirt loose against his arms, slim but muscular like the rest of him, his short cropped hair a dirty blonde colour. "With?" Lincoln asked, stepping forward, "It’s a small task. I need a match, just a match." Michael turned and left with no response.
Michael Scofield, a petty thief from the busy streets of New York City, was a good person, aside from doing the things he had to do. He acted in theft after his mother died and his father left, to survive. Being thrown around various foster homes, he’d accounted his fair share of horror stories. He was popular with the girls, mainly because of his charm. Michael Scofield could swoon any girl in to anything he wanted, though it wasn’t common for him to actually sleep with them, due to a disorder he acquired at a young age.
-x-x-x-
Michael Scofield sat in the chapel of the prison, he wasn’t necessarily religious, but he needed time to get away from the bodies surrounding him all day, every day. Burrows walked in the door as planned, and took a seat beside him. "Here, the match." Burrows said, handing over a small box of ‘Redhead’s’. Michael took the match out of its box; it’s home and struck it, letting it burn for a few seconds before pressing it sharply into his skin - right on the main vain in his wrist. It burned, skin crackled and blood began to rise, spilling over the new hole. "What the fuck?" Burrows said, turning to leave. "In a few seconds, I will be unconscious. Call the boss, get him here. Now." Scofield said, his wrist and the carpet below him covered in a sticky-red liquid and would soon become a red stain, more drops of bloodshed in Fox River.
Burrows went and got Officer Bellick, who called the infirmary. Michael lay on the floor, unconscious, as he predicted.
-x-x-x-
Dr. Sara Tancredi was the first person Michael saw once he came around, the dizzy-numbness of being unconscious still clung lightly at the edges of his vision, everything blurry and bright.
"I came to say goodbye... You know I get out in two days, I wouldn’t be able to see you by then. Goodbye, Sara. Thanks, for everything." For the first time Dr.Tancredi noted that there was an emotion showing through Michael’s eyes, admiration, maybe? Sara kept on applying antiseptic, staying silent for a couple moments before asking a question she hadn’t dared before now, "What’re you planning on doing, ya’know, once you get out of here?" Sara applied a bandage slowly, hoping to get an answer out of Michael. "Never looking back," He replied, focusing on Sara bandaging him "Putting this all behind me. Starting anew, I even have a job interview lined up." Michael smiled a plastic smile.
The whole time Michael sat in the Infirmary, his mind played on Burrows. Imagining walking out with him, but dismissed the thought. Once he left, he left everything here in his cell.