Fic: Sona

[serafina20]

Fic: Sona
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Michael/Mahone
Summary: Michael and Mahone form an alliance in the hell known as Sona.


Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36



Being sick had its perks. Oh, he felt like something stuck to the bottom of a shoe, and he just wanted to curl into a ball and die (which he probably would any moment now). But, on the other hand, Alex was being nice to him. Not just nice. Attentive.

Michael kind of liked that.

He'd managed to eat most of the main meal of the MRE and a few bites of a side before his stomach had cramped up. By that time, Alex had heated water using the flameless heater and had set up a kind of bath.

And now, he was bathing Michael.

Michael sat on some sheets Alex had spread on the floor. He was stripped to his boxers, shivering, even though he knew he wasn't really cold. He felt cold, though. That sick kind of cold that started as heat deep inside before bubbling to the surface and causing you to break out in goose bumps. Where you felt hot and cold and twisted up until you didn't know what you should be feeling. Skin on fire, ice just beneath.

Alex was taking care of the fire, though. He was sitting, pressed against Michael, his bare chest to Michael's bath. Sara had brought washcloths, thick, clean. Alex had wet one and lathered it with soap. He drew the cloth up Michael's arm. Over his shoulder and his neck. Scrubbed at the sweat and grime that had collected during the day. Down his chest, circling his nipples.

Michael shivered. Let his head fall back on Alex's shoulder.

"Feel good?" Alex asked, lips brushing Michael's ear.

"Yeah."

Alex rewet the cloth. Squeezed out the soap, then traced the same path. "How you feeling?"

"Sore."

"Anywhere specific?"

"Back. Arms."

Alex kissed his neck. "How's your neck?"

"It's fine. It hasn't hurt since I woke up."

"And your head?"

Michael wrinkled his nose.

Alex laughed. Kissed Michael's mouth softly. "I know an excellent way to relieve headaches." The cloth slides lower. Wets the top of Michael's underwear.

He sighs. Feels himself relaxing against Alex. Melting.

"You going to stay awake for me?"

He makes a noise in his throat. "Do whatever you want. I'm good for it."

"Mmmmm," Alex murmured. He scrubbed across Michael's stomach. "I could do all sorts of things to your body. All kinds. Conscious or un."

"Go right ahead. It's yours."

"You are such a whore."

"Just for you," he said, even though that wasn't true. Hadn't been true in the past, at any rate. When he'd used his body as a commodity, just one more tool in his arsenal to get what he wanted.

Now it was different. Now he knew.

Alex kissed Michael's neck. Brought the washcloth up to wash under Michael's arm. "Hmm," he said.

"What?"

"You have a rash. Hard to see, but it's there." Alex tossed the washcloth back into the bucket. "Turn around."

Michael groans, but pulls away from Alex. Turns.

"There. All across your stomach. And your back. And your arms. Didn't notice it before because of the tattoo."

"Sorry."

Alex shot him a smoldering look. "If you ever get rid of the tattoo, I will hunt you down and tear out your liver."

"My liver?"

"Or, I'll take out your heart. With a spoon."

Michael smiled. "I knew you only wanted me for my tattoo."

Alex crawled to Michael. Kissed him. Deep, licking at his lips until Michael opened them. Michael allowed himself to be pushed until he was flat on his back. Alex's hand was behind his neck, holding as he held his body over Michael's. Kissed him, tongues twining around each other. Massaging and stroking and… and different than before. Because Michael was too tired to have sex and he wasn't even getting hard, but he couldn't stop kissing Alex. Couldn't stop his hands from clawing at Alex's shirt, holding him. Stop his feet from stroking up and down Alex's legs.

Maybe it was because he was sick. Or maybe he was just tired of pretending. But right here, right now with Alex's mouth on his and Alex's hands stroking him, Michael could admit it: he was falling in love with this man.

"Alex!" Tony's breathless voice came. "Oh! Sorry. I come back."

Alex pulled away from Michael. It felt as if they were being torn apart, and it hurt. Michael couldn't stop the whimper, nor the shudders that broke out over his body as a fresh route of overheated coldness swept over him.

"No, Tony, it's fine. We were just… It's fine. You okay?"

Tony stood just inside the cell door, the sheet behind him. A furious blush darkened his features. He looked down at his feet. "I okay. Michael, you okay?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat and sat up. "I'm… better than I was. I was just trying to clean up a bit." He crawled shakily back onto the sheet. Pulled the washcloth from the bucket and started washing.

"Oh. I see," Tony said with a wide, knowing smirk.

"Shut it, kid." Alex had risen to his feet. He went to Tony and cuffed him lightly on the head. "What's that?"

Tony held up a black, iron bar. "This fall off. Of a cell. Window. I look out, just to see. Feed a rat, make sure no one watching. Different window, ground floor. I hold onto bar so I can see, pull myself with it. And it break off."

Michael's mouth fell open. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. See?" He waved it towards Michael.

"No, I know. I mean, I see it. Just… I never thought to check the windows. It didn't even occur to me." He shook his head. Rolled his eyes. "If we can get out the window, then we don't need to dig. The problem isn't getting out of the building, then. All we'd have to do is figure out how to get out of No Man's Land, which is a lot easier. Digging… let's face it, it was going to take forever to dig. If we can climb out, we can go as soon as we take out the fence."

"How do we do that?" Alex asked. He squeezed Tony's shoulder, then went back to Michael.

He shook his head, momentarily distracted when Alex took him by the wrist and began studying his arm. "I'm not sure. Um, if I can figure out how to blow the power, that might do it. But I don't know if the fence is on the same system without testing. And it's not something we should try without testing first."

Alex was looking at Michael's neck, now. Down his back, apparently studying the rash. Now that some of the grime had been washed away, Michael could tell the difference between the prickling of sweat and dirt and the itch of the rash.

"How you blow power?" Tony asked, obviously confused by the phrase.

"Blowing the power means to make it shut off from the source," Michael said. Then, still unsure if it was coming across, he translated into Spanish. "And I'm not sure. If we can get some a metal that won't conduct the electricity, I can use it to disrupt the power circuit. Then we can see if it affects the fence."

"Uh-uh. And when they find your disruptor and restore the power, we'll still be in here."

"Well. If something goes down once, it's more likely to a second time. Especially if we use an animal or something. Kill a rat, make the lines looked chewed, at least the second time. The first, it'll just look like a breaker failure or something. The second, a force of nature. And we'll be out then."

Alex sighed. Ran his hand down Michael's back, nails scratching lightly. Michael tried not to arch into it; it felt good.

"How are you going to find it?"

He shrugged. "Sewers?"

He sighed again. Stretched his neck, then shrugged. "We'll look into it once you feel better. There's no rush."

"Unless…"

"Stop it," Alex snapped. "Now. Tony, you need to sleep. Go to bed. Michael, you done with your bath?"

Michael ducked his head, a shiver wracking him. "Yeah. I think so. I'm itchy now. Thanks."

"You're blaming me?" Alex got the cloth again. After squeezing the last of the soap from it, he wet it and began to drag it down Michael's back. "I can't tell if it's a heat rash or something else." He scrubbed down Michael's arm, taking the last of the soap scum from it. "It looks like a heat rash, but… is it on your legs?"

Michael looked, but he couldn't tell.

"We'll look again once the sun is up. Okay." He took a final swipe, then tossed the cloth into the bucket. "I'll get you a clean shirt…"

Michael laughed.

"Cleanish shirt, and then it's back to bed."

"Yes, Mommy," Michael said meekly. As Alex went to the clothes, he crawled back to the bed. Tony was curled on the mattress he was now sharing with Alex so Michael could have more room to be miserable. It sucked. "How you feeling?" he asked as he lay back down.

Tony opened his eyes. "I fine. Not sick. You better?"

"I think so." He shivered.

"Here you go." Alex knelt next to Michael. Helped him on with the shirt. Between Michael's sore muscles from digging and just being sore from the sickness, it wasn't easy. But, they got the shirt on and Michael back in bed. Comfortable.

Sort of.

"What?" Michael said when Alex moved away. "No good-night kiss?"

"Bitch, bitch, bitch." Alex leaned back over. Kissed him, long and lingering.

Michael grabbed his hand. "Don't go too far."

Alex rolled his eyes, but a soft, amused expression was on his face. He stretched out in the space between Michael and Tony's bodies. Kissed the top of Michael's head and then closed his eyes. Their heads were resting together, fingers interlaced.

His skin prickled and burned. Shivers wracked his body every couple minutes as his blood boiled and froze. Despite the fact he'd been sleeping all day, he was exhausted. Almost too exhausted to sleep. But, lying next to Alex, feeling his warmth and listening to him breath, Michael found himself drifting away.

He was so incredibly fucked.