Fic: Cellie

[serafina20]

Title: Cellie
Author: serafina20
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Michael/Mahone
Summary: Four months into his sentence for the murder of Oscar Shales, Alexander Mahone gets a new cellie.



"Yeah, so, it was kind of intense, I guess," LJ said, blushing and ducking his head. "I had to do two monologues, one comedic and one dramatic. And then I had to do some improve with kids who were in the thing last year. And then, after I passed that, I had to go back again and do a cold reading scene with some other people. So. Yeah."

"And you passed all that," Michael said.

LJ nodded.

"I'm... I'm so proud of you, LJ." Michael squeezed LJ's hand. "That's a major accomplishment."

"Naw. It's just a thing."

Lincoln sighed. "I swear to God, you're more and more like your uncle every day."

Michael rolled his eyes at his brother. "What he means, LJ, is you shouldn't underplay your accomplishments. You should be proud of them. Thank people when they tell you how proud they are of you."

"In other words," Alex broke in, "don't be like him." He gave Michael a slight shove.

He shoved him back. "Shut up."

Cameron pursed his lips. Shook his head and whispered, "That's not nice."

Michael blushed. "You're right, that's not nice. I'm sorry, Cameron."

The little boy shrugged. Hugged his fish tighter to his chest. "'S'okay."

Silence fell over the table. The silence had been intermittent since the visitation had began. Michael had practically felt Alex's dismay when Cameron had shown up with his stuffed fish. Pam had explained what had happened the day before, and Cameron had spent most of the visit quietly snuggling on Alex's lap.

Michael and Alex exchanged looked. Out of the corner of his eye, Michael saw Pam and Lincoln doing the same thing.

Finally, Michael cleared his throat. "Um. Cameron. I have something for you." He reached under the table and pulled out the gift bag he'd gotten that morning from the commissary. They had gift bags and wrapping paper, but no frame, unfortunately; he'd have preferred to have it framed already. Then again, he'd have preferred to work on it longer, buy a canvas and do it as a painting. But he wanted to give something to Cameron now, especially since there growing expectation that every time he requested canvas, he'd paint something to sell.

Cameron set Nemo in his lap and took the offered bag. "What is it?" he asked, blinking his beautiful dark eyes at Michael.

"It's for you. A present." Michael swallowed. Shrugged.

"It's not my birthday."

"I know. I just... I thought you might like it."

"Open it, honey," Pamela urged.

He handed Nemo to his father and set the bag in his lap. Carefully, he dug through the tissue paper, setting it on the table until he got to the rolled paper inside.

"Here." Michael took it and undid the string holding it shut. Then he carefully unrolled it and placed it on the table.

Cameron shifted onto his knees. Pushed up and leaned over it. "It's Daddy!" One small hand reached out, lightly touched the face on the paper. "Did you drawed... draw this, Michael?"

"Yeah. I thought..."

"Mommy, can we hang it in my room?"

"Of course. My goodness, Michael, this is gorgeous."

Michael blushed deeply. "The, uh, subject makes the picture."

Pam raised her eyebrow at him. "I won't argue there. But I tell you, no way I could sit down with the intention of drawing that," she pointed at Alex, "and come out with that." She pointed at the picture.

"Um. Thanks." He ducked his head.

Cameron was leaning over the drawing, tracing the lines with the tips of his fingers. "How did you do that?"

"I, uh. Got a pencil and paper and... drew."

"It's good." He looked up. "It looks like Daddy. I mean, really like him. Like a picture."

"Oh, pictures!" Lincoln said suddenly. He grabbed Pam's purse and stuck his hand in. "We've got the pictures from Cam's graduation yesterday. And the Cubs' opening day. Cam and LJ had a whole thing that day. I got the film developed last night." He handed the envelopes to Alex.

"Thanks," Alex said. He pulled out the pictures and started flipping through them, sharing with Michael.

Cameron was still intent on the drawing. "Look, Mommy. It's a bird." He pointed at a bird flying in the distance behind Alex's head.

"I see that."

"And a board. Daddy's playing a game."

"He's playing chess."

"Yeah. And there's a horse. And a tower. And another horse. And, look, this is that man over there!" Cameron pointed at another inmate sitting with his family.

"Don't point, honey," Pam said.

"That's Randall," Michael said, looking up from one of the graduation shots. "He's one of your daddy's friends."

Randall looked over to them on hearing his name. He smiled and waved.

Cameron immediately blushed and turned to press his face in his father's chest.

"Ah, Cameron. Why are you doing that?" Alex kissed the top of his head and rubbed his back. "Don't be shy."

Cameron stayed where he was.

Alex sighed. "I like your hat, bud. Did you make it?" He showed Michael the picture of Cameron holding the cardboard mortarboard out for the camera.

"Um... yes," Cameron answered, pulling away. "Mrs. Kim told us to decorate the hats with stuff we liked. So I did Nemo and baseballs. And, Daddy? Me and LJ and Lincoln and Mommy and me are going to see the Cubs play baseball. In person. And LJ and me are taking our gloves so we can catch a foul ball. And LJ is gonna teach me how to keep score."

"You really like baseball, huh?"

Cameron nodded enthusiastically. "Last week, me and Mommy and Lincoln goed... went to the batting cages. And I hit a ball, Daddy! Three times, and it was cool and LJ and I play catch after school. Oh, and at school, Ben and me play soccer because we don't have baseballs and I kick the ball farther than him. And I'm going to get a Cubs shirt at the baseball game. And, Michael, LJ says that you like the Cubs. Do you like the Cubs, because I think they're the best team ever."

Michael couldn't stop the smile. Cameron reminded him a lot of LJ when he was Cameron's age. "Yeah, I think they're the best team ever, too."

He beamed. "And, Daddy? What do you think?"

"I think I better learn something about baseball."

His eyes went wide. "You don't know about baseball?"

"I know some. Maybe you can teach me."

"Okay. Mommy? Can I have my paper?"

Pam took out a pad of paper, some crayons, and a pencil. "Here you go."

He took them. Passed the drawing of Alex to Michael. "Michael, can you roll this? I don't want to hurt it."

"Sure." He started rolling it, and was startled when there were suddenly a pair of soft arms around his neck and small lips on his cheek.

"Thank you for the picture, Michael. I really like it."

He put an arm around Cameron and squeezed. "You're welcome." He wasn't sure if he was supposed to kiss Cameron back or not, so he left it at the hug.

Cameron sat back down and pulled out the crayon. "Okay, Daddy. There are three bases," he started explaining.

As Cameron taught Alex all about baseball, Michael turned to his brother and nephew. "So, how are things going for you?"

Lincoln nodded. "Good. I'm going to be taking some time off from work next month. Maybe go on vacation somewhere. I'd like to take LJ to the coast some time."

"You should," Michael said. "If he can work it around this acting thing." He glanced at LJ.

"Yeah. I mean, they don't want people missing all the time, but they get vacations and everything. Family things."

"Then you should. Head out, hang out on the beach. I'm sure Cameron would love it, too."

"Oh, I wasn't... And I wouldn't want to leave you," Lincoln said, flustered. "Not all alone."

Michael shrugged. "I've got Alex."

Lincoln rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. Family. Outside this place. You need connection."

"Linc, some guys in here go months, even years, without having any visitors. You come twice a month. I love it, I do, and I appreciate it. But not if you're going to give up your life to keep it up. Take a vacation. From me. From Chicago. Take some time with your son. Let him meet some girls."

"Uncle Mike!" LJ practically shouted. He turned beet red.

"You're seventeen years old. I'm trying to convince your father to go to the coast. It's a natural connection to make, right?"

"You're supposed to be the one who doesn't embarrass me," he groaned.

Michael exchanged grins with Lincoln. "Sorry, LJ. I'll stop." He turned to Lincoln and leaned in. "You'll get to see Pam in a bikini."

LJ shot to his feet. "Is there a bathroom around here?"

"Down the hall, on the right," the guard said.

He beat a retreat.

Lincoln looked very much as if he would liked to follow his son. "Michael, it isn't like that. Me and Pam."

"Why not?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"I don't... it just isn't. Okay?" He had that tone. The, 'drop it or you're dead,' tone.

Since Michael didn't want Lincoln in jail for killing him, he dropped it. "Those pictures of Cameron are good. I know Alex really appreciates it."

"I feel bad for him," Lincoln said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Missing out on so much. He should be there. Not here."

"I agree. He doesn't belong here. He's not a danger to society. He barely did anything wrong." Michael scowl. "He deserves to be set free."

"Of course, that'll leave you alone," Lincoln pointed out. "Wouldn't want that."

He felt himself blush. "I can't be selfish."

"How are things going with you two, anyway?" he asked softly.

"You asking about my sex life, Linc?"

"Well. Yeah. Special circumstances and all."

Michael sighed. "We haven't progressed much beyond making out and the occasional frantic rubbing, if you must know. I still... I just...."

"Have you talked with your psychologist about it? I mean... are you...."

"Yeah," Michael said. "He and I have our sessions in a room in the psych ward. He brought a mirror in it and makes me take off my shirt. Look at myself. Once he left the room and have me strip naked and look and I just.... It's a process, okay? And I know I'm being stupid and melodramatic or whatever, but every time I look all I can see is how damaged I am."

Lincoln put his hand on Michael's arm. "You're not."

Michael swallowed. His eyes were stinging. "It's not just this. It's everything, okay? What he did and, um. The tattoo. The missing toes. And, um, I had a boyfriend once, for about a week. Not really a boyfriend, but we were dating and he seemed nice until we started sleeping together. Soon as we did that, he got possessive. Jealous. I was thinking about breaking up with him when he, uh. He beat me for canceling a date. I had to work late. The next day, he came over, I let him in. And he... was screaming and accusing me of cheating on him."

"He hit you?"

"Yeah, it was... I had to go to the hospital."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"You were jail. I called a guy from work. He took me to the hospital. I pressed charges, never spoke to him again. But now I just..." He exhaled shakily. "It just brought up all these things. Like... like you know that one foster father? Who locked me in the room? He wasn't the only one."

"I remember that one woman who used to hit us with the extension cord," Lincoln said.

"And remember that one who would hold matches to our skin?" Michael said. A tear slipped from his eye.

Lincoln's hand tightened. "I remember her. God, what a bitch. And her husband wasn't any better. With his fucking belt. And he didn't know about the burns, so we'd always be punished double." He shook his head. "I tried to protect you, Michael. I really did."

"I know. And I thought I'd dealt with this. But the attack just brought it all back, and I can't... I don't like my body." He laughed bitterly. "God. I sound like a thirteen year old girl."

"I'd rather you did than be unable to talk about it." He looked up as LJ reentered the room.

LJ sat down on the other side of Michael, and turned to face the Mahones.

Lincoln leaned in even closer, until their heads were practically touching. "Anyway you could get Alex to go with you to one of these sessions?"

"Oh, yeah. Like they really care whether or not I can be naked in front of anyone else. Outside the showers, I mean."

"True." He sighed. Put his hand on the back of Michael's neck. Squeezed. "You don't belong here either, Michael. I really wish you'd just kept running. Gone on to Panama, opened a little shop. Had time just to lay in a hammock, drink beer, and do all the reading you'd ever want."

Michael quirked his mouth. "Then I wouldn't have Alex."

"Maybe you still would. Who knows?"

He snorted. "Yeah. Who knows?" He pulled away. Picked up the pile of pictures and began flipping through them.

Pam turned to him. "Michael, that picture you drew of Alex was beautiful."

"Thanks," he said, blushing, head ducked.

"I don't want to impose on you, but is there anyway you can draw one of Cameron? I'd love to have one."

"Um, yeah. Do you want just a drawing, or do you want a painting?"

Her eyes lit up. "Can you do a painting?"

"Sure. Do you have any particular picture?"

She reached into her purse. Took out her wallet and removed a picture of Cameron. "Here. We got this taken a couple weeks ago. He's grown so much since school pictures in the fall, I wanted something new. I love this shot."

It was a very cute picture. Cameron, laughing at the camera, Nemo above his head. He was standing, dressed in a red polo shirt and jeans. One foot was out so he was resting on his heel. There was a light dancing in his eyes, a flush on his cheeks.

"What did the photographer say to get this reaction?"

"I can't even remember," she said, shaking her head. "It actually might have been something Lincoln said."

"He was there?" Michael glanced at his brother, who'd moved so he was with Cameron, LJ, and Alex.

"We all went. We couldn't convince LJ to get his picture taken, but we did lure him out with the promise of mall junk for dinner."

Michael looked up at her. "I haven't gotten a chance to thank you for being so good to LJ. He told me what you've done. Helped him with man and talked with him. Helped to put things in perspective. It's just... thank you."

"You're welcome," she said. "And thank you. I was so afraid of what was going to happen to Alex in here. He was getting into so many fights and not eating. Having headaches. Being bored. I was afraid..." She pressed her lips together. Reached into her purse for a tissue and wiped her eyes. "You've, uh. You've really changed him. How he is here. He's more like Alex now that you're here, and I thank you for that."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're loving him," Pam whispered. She took his hand. "Even in this place, you are, and I thank you for that."

His cheeks burned. Stomach fluttered. He felt hot. "You know?"

"Of course. He told me. And even if he hadn't, I know him. And I can see the love between the two of you." She leaned into him and kissed him on the cheek. "I never thought that any good would come from him being here. But somehow, we've gotten a family from it. You, your brother, LJ. I can't imagine my life without any of you now."

Michael glanced over at Alex, who, as if sensing Michael's gaze, lifted his head. Their eyes met. Alex smiled at Michael.

"Yeah," Michael said. "Neither could I."