PB fic: My Own Prison
My Own Prison
Title: My Own Prison
Fandom: Prison Break
Spoilers: Season 1, plus Season 2 up through 2.3 Scan
Characters: Michael, Lincoln
Rating: K+ (Parental Guidance suggested)
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Prison Break. Not for profit.
Summary: Song fic to My Own Prison by Creed (the lyrics are shown below in italics).
A court is in session, a verdict is in
Lincoln Burrows almost cried when he was pronounced guilty of a murder he didn't commit. And when he was sentenced to the electric chair, well, that was almost the last straw.
Three years later, his brother Michael Scofield had to hide a grin when he pled guilty to a crime he did commit (well, you know, sort of). And had to hide his pleased expression when he was sentenced to five years at Fox River.
No appeal on the docket today
Lincoln did cry, alone, in his cell, when he got the news that his last appeal was denied and a date would be set for his execution.
Michael only went to the extreme of getting himself incarcerated when all of his brother's appeals were exhausted, and he had no other option. He had to save his brother, or die trying. (Despite all outward appearances to the contrary, he wasn't stupid, insane, or suicidal, just desperate.)
Just my own sin
Linc knew he was not an innocent man. He hadn't been innocent for a long, long time. He had plenty of sin on God's books for Judgment Day. He just wasn't guilty of this crime. But it was this crime that would kill him. Ironic, wasn’t it?
Michael knew he was not an innocent man, technically, since he had really committed the crime. But was he really guilty, either? Since he had to do it. For his brother.
The walls are cold and pale
The cage made of steel
Linc spent many a long hour, just staring at the blank cold white walls of the SHU. Pretty much twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for three years. Just contemplating his own mortality, his own life, which was getting colder, and paler, by the day. As the date of his execution drew inexorably nearer.
Michael stared out at the three tiers of men in the cell block, through the steel bars on his cell door, for weeks, going over and over the plan in his head, making sure every detail was perfect. It had to be. There could be no mistakes. This was Linc’s last chance. He was Linc’s last chance.
Screams fill the room
Alone I drop and kneel
Silence now the sound
My breath the only motion around
Demons cluttering around
Lincoln could hear very little from the inside of his tiny little cell with the solid steel door with the tiny little opening, just big enough to allow food in and dirty dishes out and to exchange dirty laundry for clean. Quite the change from the chaotic cell blocks he'd been in before, and the noisy and dirty streets he was used to living on. It was too quiet. In here, there was no way to drown out the demons in his head.
It took Michael some time to get used to all the noise in the cell block, at all times of the day and night, with random yelling and screaming. It was never quiet. He didn't even want to know what was happening that caused the screams. Finally, to save his sanity, he had to just block it all out and focus on his breathing -- in and out, in and out -- and focus on his plan, all nicely encoded in the demons and angels in his tattoo.
My face showing no emotion
Shackled by my sentence
Expecting no return
Here there is no penance
Linc had learned over the years to not hope for anything. He was facing death in the face every day, emotion was his downfall. He just had to keep going and put it out of his mind. And not even think of the possibility that he might be exonerated. That was just too much to handle.
Michael learned over the last months to put all emotion aside and focus, focus, focus on the plan. There could be nothing else. And not to expect help from anybody, either. His sentence - his true sentence - was to save his brother, the way his brother had saved him. Repeatedly.
My skin begins to burn
After too many hours in solitary - hour after hour after hour of nothing to do except stare at the walls - Lincoln could start to feel his skin start to crawl and itch. And he would scratch and scratch until he made it burn and bleed, just to feel something, anything.
Michael almost lost everything when the steam pipe started to burn through the guard's uniform and sear his flesh. With the guard right in front of him, he had to bite his own knuckle to keep from yelling out, to keep from screaming out his pain. But later, when Sucre pulled the uniform off, he just couldn't hold back anymore. It all came screaming out, all the pain and frustration, at least until he passed out.
(And I said oh) So I held my head up high
Hiding hate that burns inside
Which only fuels their selfish pride
(And I said oh) We're all held captive
Out from the sun
A sun that shines on only some
We the meek are all in one
The more Lincoln and Michael and Veronica and the others learned about the massive conspiracy that led them all to this untenable situation, the more hatred burned in them at everything that had been done to them. In the name of what? The selfish quest for power by a lucky few? It was totally unbelievable - some kind of secret organization pulling all the strings in this country and around the world? Linc and Mike were determined to get out and do something about it. They had to be stopped...
I hear a thunder in the distance
See a vision of a cross
I feel the pain that was given
On that sad day of loss
After the escape, in the dark of night while they were hiding out from their pursuers, Michael and Lincoln attempted to sleep, but both lay awake in their own spots on the warehouse floor, wracked with guilt about all those whose lives had been lost in their pursuit of justice. Lisa, Veronica, Westmoreland, others that they did and did not know about. It was a sobering list.
A lion roars in the darkness
Only he holds the key
A light to free me from my burden
And grant me life eternally
And now, the key to their successful escape from the law was the money that Charles - that old lion - had buried in Utah. Utah was now the promised land. If they were caught, Linc would be executed and Michael would spend the next fifteen years in solitary. Utah. They had to get to Utah.
Should have been dead on a Sunday morning
Banging my head
No time for mourning
Ain't got no time
Linc tried to talk to Michael that next day, while they were on the run, in hiding, about what had happened the day that he was strapped into the electric chair, almost executed. How he felt, how it made him ten times as determined not to let it happen again.
But Michael didn't want to hear it. There was no time for looking back. They had to move forward, make a plan, polish the plan, the plan, the plan, the plan.
I cry out to God
Seeking only his decision
Gabriel stands and confirms
I've created my own prison
Linc and Michael sat side-by-side in their borrowed car, on their way to Utah, each a prisoner of his own thoughts. Each trying to make their peace with God. Hoping to Hell that this all worked out. It had to.
Title: My Own Prison
Fandom: Prison Break
Spoilers: Season 1, plus Season 2 up through 2.3 Scan
Characters: Michael, Lincoln
Rating: K+ (Parental Guidance suggested)
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Prison Break. Not for profit.
Summary: Song fic to My Own Prison by Creed (the lyrics are shown below in italics).
A court is in session, a verdict is in
Lincoln Burrows almost cried when he was pronounced guilty of a murder he didn't commit. And when he was sentenced to the electric chair, well, that was almost the last straw.
Three years later, his brother Michael Scofield had to hide a grin when he pled guilty to a crime he did commit (well, you know, sort of). And had to hide his pleased expression when he was sentenced to five years at Fox River.
No appeal on the docket today
Lincoln did cry, alone, in his cell, when he got the news that his last appeal was denied and a date would be set for his execution.
Michael only went to the extreme of getting himself incarcerated when all of his brother's appeals were exhausted, and he had no other option. He had to save his brother, or die trying. (Despite all outward appearances to the contrary, he wasn't stupid, insane, or suicidal, just desperate.)
Just my own sin
Linc knew he was not an innocent man. He hadn't been innocent for a long, long time. He had plenty of sin on God's books for Judgment Day. He just wasn't guilty of this crime. But it was this crime that would kill him. Ironic, wasn’t it?
Michael knew he was not an innocent man, technically, since he had really committed the crime. But was he really guilty, either? Since he had to do it. For his brother.
The walls are cold and pale
The cage made of steel
Linc spent many a long hour, just staring at the blank cold white walls of the SHU. Pretty much twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for three years. Just contemplating his own mortality, his own life, which was getting colder, and paler, by the day. As the date of his execution drew inexorably nearer.
Michael stared out at the three tiers of men in the cell block, through the steel bars on his cell door, for weeks, going over and over the plan in his head, making sure every detail was perfect. It had to be. There could be no mistakes. This was Linc’s last chance. He was Linc’s last chance.
Screams fill the room
Alone I drop and kneel
Silence now the sound
My breath the only motion around
Demons cluttering around
Lincoln could hear very little from the inside of his tiny little cell with the solid steel door with the tiny little opening, just big enough to allow food in and dirty dishes out and to exchange dirty laundry for clean. Quite the change from the chaotic cell blocks he'd been in before, and the noisy and dirty streets he was used to living on. It was too quiet. In here, there was no way to drown out the demons in his head.
It took Michael some time to get used to all the noise in the cell block, at all times of the day and night, with random yelling and screaming. It was never quiet. He didn't even want to know what was happening that caused the screams. Finally, to save his sanity, he had to just block it all out and focus on his breathing -- in and out, in and out -- and focus on his plan, all nicely encoded in the demons and angels in his tattoo.
My face showing no emotion
Shackled by my sentence
Expecting no return
Here there is no penance
Linc had learned over the years to not hope for anything. He was facing death in the face every day, emotion was his downfall. He just had to keep going and put it out of his mind. And not even think of the possibility that he might be exonerated. That was just too much to handle.
Michael learned over the last months to put all emotion aside and focus, focus, focus on the plan. There could be nothing else. And not to expect help from anybody, either. His sentence - his true sentence - was to save his brother, the way his brother had saved him. Repeatedly.
My skin begins to burn
After too many hours in solitary - hour after hour after hour of nothing to do except stare at the walls - Lincoln could start to feel his skin start to crawl and itch. And he would scratch and scratch until he made it burn and bleed, just to feel something, anything.
Michael almost lost everything when the steam pipe started to burn through the guard's uniform and sear his flesh. With the guard right in front of him, he had to bite his own knuckle to keep from yelling out, to keep from screaming out his pain. But later, when Sucre pulled the uniform off, he just couldn't hold back anymore. It all came screaming out, all the pain and frustration, at least until he passed out.
(And I said oh) So I held my head up high
Hiding hate that burns inside
Which only fuels their selfish pride
(And I said oh) We're all held captive
Out from the sun
A sun that shines on only some
We the meek are all in one
The more Lincoln and Michael and Veronica and the others learned about the massive conspiracy that led them all to this untenable situation, the more hatred burned in them at everything that had been done to them. In the name of what? The selfish quest for power by a lucky few? It was totally unbelievable - some kind of secret organization pulling all the strings in this country and around the world? Linc and Mike were determined to get out and do something about it. They had to be stopped...
I hear a thunder in the distance
See a vision of a cross
I feel the pain that was given
On that sad day of loss
After the escape, in the dark of night while they were hiding out from their pursuers, Michael and Lincoln attempted to sleep, but both lay awake in their own spots on the warehouse floor, wracked with guilt about all those whose lives had been lost in their pursuit of justice. Lisa, Veronica, Westmoreland, others that they did and did not know about. It was a sobering list.
A lion roars in the darkness
Only he holds the key
A light to free me from my burden
And grant me life eternally
And now, the key to their successful escape from the law was the money that Charles - that old lion - had buried in Utah. Utah was now the promised land. If they were caught, Linc would be executed and Michael would spend the next fifteen years in solitary. Utah. They had to get to Utah.
Should have been dead on a Sunday morning
Banging my head
No time for mourning
Ain't got no time
Linc tried to talk to Michael that next day, while they were on the run, in hiding, about what had happened the day that he was strapped into the electric chair, almost executed. How he felt, how it made him ten times as determined not to let it happen again.
But Michael didn't want to hear it. There was no time for looking back. They had to move forward, make a plan, polish the plan, the plan, the plan, the plan.
I cry out to God
Seeking only his decision
Gabriel stands and confirms
I've created my own prison
Linc and Michael sat side-by-side in their borrowed car, on their way to Utah, each a prisoner of his own thoughts. Each trying to make their peace with God. Hoping to Hell that this all worked out. It had to.