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serafina20Fic: Sona
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Michael/Mahone
Summary: Hell on earth is found at La Penitenciaría Federal de Sona.
Alex continued to shake as if he were going to fly apart for the rest of the day. He stopped complaining. Stopped talking. Stopped making any sounds except for the occasional bit off moan. He would squeezed his eyes shut, but not sleep. Couldn't sleep, Michael figured, because of the shaking and the rapid pace of his heart.
Michael was afraid to leave him. Even barring the fact that he was all but terrified to go outside, he was afraid of what would happen to Alex if he left. What if he stopped breathing? What if he threw up on himself? What if he needed to go to the bathroom and couldn't get there? What if...
So Michael stayed. He stayed n the room through lunch. He paced the small space. Stretched his back, his legs and arms the best he could. He counted to four thousand thirteen in primes and would have gone on if Alex hadn't gone through an particularly harsh bought of tremors. Once Alex had calmed back down, Michael had settled back and began squaring two as far as he could.
He was bored. Anxious. And, worst of all, he was completely and utterly helpless.
Hours past. Tony returned from his wandering with a pen. Then he settled next to Michael, entertaining himself by tossing an orange like a ball.
Michael wondered what he did around here, besides trade sex for things he needed. He wondered if there was anything to do around here except sit around and hope no one killed you.
A loud tone sounded out in the hall.
Tony picked his head up. Tugged on Michael's sleeve. "Come. Is dinner. We eat."
Michael shook his head. "I'd rather not. I'm safer here."
"No, is okay." He switched into Spanish as he said, "You fought Alejandro and won. You're still property, but they won't go after you like that anymore. Not now."
"I'd rather it not be ever."
Tony shrugged. "You're too pretty. Too new. Maybe in a few years you'll get high enough not to have to worry, but right now, you're fresh meat. Pretty fresh meat. You'll be courted."
"I hate prison."
"Who doesn't?"
Michael rubbed his head. "I'm fine here. You get dinner. I'll stay."
Tony sighed and shook his head. His dark eyes rolled. He pushed himself to his feet and went over to Alex. "Senor. Tell him is no good stay here. Should go. Get food." He put his hand on Alex's shoulder. Shook. "Tell him."
Alex moaned. Rolled over. When he sat up, he clutched his blanket around him tightly.
He looked awful. Gaunt, pale. Hollow eyed. Every bit of him was drawn tight with pain. Sweat rolled down his face, plastered his hair to his head.
"He's right," Alex croaked hoarsely. "You'll go crazy in here. Go out."
Michael shook his head. "No. I don't want to."
"You'll be fine. Trust me."
He snorted.
That drew and actual smile from Alex. Well. Something of a smile. "You haven't gotten me out yet. I still need you alive."
"True." He rubbed his forehead. "I'm scared."
"I know. But you can't stay in here forever. And if you stay today, it'll be easier to stay tomorrow. And even easier the next day. And then, it'll be a snap to wait here until I'm well enough to go out. And then you will be dependent on me. Is that what you want?"
"Isn't that what you want?"
"You know it isn't. I want you to get me the fuck out of here. And if you're too afraid to walk around this place without me, that's not going to happen and you know it. So get your ass out of this closet and get your goddamn dinner."
Michael's lips quirked. "I love it when you sweet talk me."
"Bring me back something."
"Yes, master." He rose. Tugged his shirt down. Ran a hand over his head. Pulled his sleeves over his hands. "Okay."
"The shiv." Alex picked it up from the floor and passed it to Michael. "Just in case."
"Right." He shoved it in his back pocket. "Okay. Don't, uh. Don't, like, die. Or anything."
Alex nodded. Shuddered. "I'll try not to. Go."
Michael nodded again. Tugged his sleeves. Turned and followed Tony out the door.
It was like breakfast all over again, just that morning, a lifetime ago. Men streaming through the hall, heading towards one place. The sharp smell of something fried in the air, mingling with unpleasant smells that clung to the walls. Everything was slower now. Movement. Feet shuffled. Not as frantic. The day had beaten them all down.
Men looked at him as he and Tony moved towards the mess hall. No one said anything to him, though, although the looks were appraising. Not just a pretty face anymore, he guessed. He'd killed.
He'd killed a man.
Pressure enclosed him. Crushed his lungs. Heart. Head. The world spun around him.
Reeling, he reached out. Clamped onto Tony.
"What's wrong?" Tony turned. Put his hands on Michael's hips. "You okay?"
He swallowed. Tightened his hands on Tony's shoulders. "I'm okay. Just... I'm okay."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I'm good. Thanks." He took a deep breath and stepped away. "Let's get food."
"You need food. You're sick because you were inside all day. We'll get food and go outside, okay?"
Michael nodded, grateful that Tony wasn't speaking either too fast nor using words that were too complicated. His Spanish was okay, but he was exhausted and hungry; words were beginning to go past him.
Tony led him into the mess hall. Together, they pressed through the throng to the food. There was meat, rice, and something that looked like potatoes. Lots of fruit. Things passing for vegetables. Dessert, but it was all being grabbed by huge guys who looked dangerous; Tony didn't even try to approach.
They got enough for the three of them, and then Tony, as promised, led Michael out into the open air. Together, they walked over the dusty, flattened grass to the wall, where they sat down, side by side.
Tony piled his shredded meat on a thick, flakey piece of bread. "You know, Señor isn't so bad when he's sick." He talked with his mouth open, like any teenager without much guidance. After he swallowed, he wiped his mouth on his shirt.
"He's really not so bad anyway." Michael gingerly bit into his own meal; it didn't taste bad, but it wasn't the taste he was worried about. So far, he hadn't gotten sick from eating what could be undercooked or contaminated food, but he was still wary.
Tony snorted. "I think maybe we should keep him drugged. Better for both of us."
"No."
"He's mean to you."
"I'm the reason he's here. He has cause to be angry with me."
The kid frowned at him. "What'd you do?"
Michael took another bite of his dinner. Scooped the rice into his mouth with his fingers, wishing there'd been utensils to go with the plate. "Back in the states, I broke my brother and me out of prison. Alex was assigned to bring me back. But everything got so... messed up." He sighed. "He's a good man. But there's a..." Michael fumbled around for the words in Spanish. Couldn't find them. Settled on, "People say my brother killed a man. But he didn't. They made it look like he did. The people, uh. Threatened Alex. His family. They told him to kill me. I don't think he really wanted to." He stopped, head aching. His tongue felt stupidly heavy.
"You made it all the way down here from the States?" Tony asked, sounding awed.
"Yes."
"California?"
"No. Illinois."
His eyes practically popped out of their sockets. "Wow. You must be a genius."
Michael shrugged and said, "I guess."
Tony nodded and settled back against the wall. He also moved closer to Michael, so their bodies were touching.
He wiped his forehead. The weather was hot and muggy. The sun shone weakly through a thick layer of clouds and the air smelled of rain. It was a day to sit far apart and drink nothing but ice water. A day for swimming. Just, for people not in prison.
"Senor said you're getting him out. You escaping here too?"
"That's the idea. I don't know if it's possible, though." He knocked his head against the wall behind him. "The last time, it took a year of planning. And I had the blueprints. And money. This time?" He shook his head.
Tony nodded. He looked serious. "Here, though, I bet you can bribe the guard."
"I don't have anything to bribe one with."
Tony's look was eloquent.
"No." He rubbed his hand on the dead grass. "I'm not trading my body. There's got to be another way out. A better way out." He frowned. "I just need to see the layout. What everything looks like. And then, hope for a miracle."
Tony shifted. Lay his head on Michael's shoulder. Moved even closer. "Can I come with you? I promise I can make it worth it. Make it really good for you."
He caught Tony's hand before it landed on his crotch. "No. I mean, yes, you can come with us. No, you don't have to... you know."
"But I want to."
His cheeks warmed. "I'm flattered, Tony, really. But no."
"What? You got a girlfriend out there?"
"I did. Sort of," Michael replied, his lips numb.
"You love her?"
"Yes." He swallowed painfully. Tears of pure frustration pressed behind his eyes. "But I need to forget her. If I'm going to get through this, it's better to...
He broke off. Shook his head.
Tony pulled Michael's dinner plate off his lap. Crawled onto Michael's lap. "Forget her with me," he whispered. His lips brushed over Michael's jaw. His neck. His chin.
Michael pushed him away. "Tony, you're the same age as my nephew. A kid."
He snorted. "I haven't been a kid for a long time."
"Yeah." He put his arm around Tony and hugged him. "I know. But, age-wise, you still are. And I wouldn't feel right taking advantage."
"I don't mind."
"I do."
"Hey, gringo!" a hugely muscular man barked. He strode out of the mess hall, carrying what looked to be some kind of pastry. Behind him, beaten, swollen, and limping, was Bellick.
Michael stood and took a half-step forward. He pushed Tony behind him, at least part way. "Yeah?" he said warily, wrapping his hand around the shiv.
The man shoved the pastry at Michael. "This for you. You join me."
He shook his head. "No thank you," he said Spanish.
Relief flashed over the man's face. "I'm Raoul. I want you. Three white boys were brought in yesterday. I've got one." He jerked his head back at Bellick. "I'll take you. The other, too."
"No."
He stepped closer, backing Michael against the wall. "I'll treat you good." He tore a piece off the pastry and pressed it to Michael's lips. "A gringo like you deserves respect."
Sugar glaze brushed onto Michael's lips. He licked them unconsciously. When he opened his mouth to say no again, Raoul pushed the piece into his mouth.
Startled, Michael pulled away, knocking his head against the wall. "I already, uh, I already belong to..."
"Si, I know. The other gringo took you. I'll take care of him, too. You both are good fighters. Not like this whore." He kicked Bellick.
Michael winced. "He was shot the other day."
Raoul shrugged. "Whatever. I'll protect you and your man. Give you food. Clothes. You stay with me."
"I..."
"Think about it. Ask the other. Things can be good for you, or very, very bad. Just think." He pushed the pastry against Michael's chest. Then he grabbed Bellick by the shirt and dragged him away.
The former guard threw a look at Michael as he went. In his eyes was something like hatred and something a lot like desperation.
"I'm sick of this," Michael said. He broke off a chunk of the pastry and handed it to Tony.
"Least he didn't hurt you."
"This time." He shook his head. "I think it's time to go back."
"No, stay. Just for a little bit longer. It's good for you to be in the fresh air, you know that. Stay."
Michael sighed. Closed his eyes. He did feel a little bit better out here, even if all he was doing was sitting down. Being in the closet was... hard. If he closed his eyes and let his mind drift, he got confused. Went back *there*, to the closet his foster father had locked him in all those many years ago. Although, to be honest, he didn't know which was worse: that hell or this.
"What's there to do around here? Besides fighting and sex?"
"Um. Drugs."
"Anything else?"
"Some people gamble. Cards. Dice. The yard's got some footballs. People run. Weights. Sometimes there's a paper to read. Books, if someone makes a donation, but those get torn up real fast. Mostly, no. Just, nothing but sit and don't do nothing."
He heaved another sigh. "I'm going to go crazy." He scratched his arm. "As soon as Alex is better, we need to work on getting out of here. You'll be a big help, Tony. You know where everything is. The weak spots. Maybe when the guards come around. Unguarded places. Something."
"I'll help. Yeah." Tony moved up swiftly and placed a kiss on the corner of Michael's mouth. "But you can't go crazy, okay?"
"I'll do my best." A raindrop plopped on the top of Michael's head. "Ah, shit." He tilted his face back. "Does it ever not rain here?"
"Some days, yes." Tony stood up and held his arms out. "Sometimes, when it rains, I just strip down and let it go all over me. It's better than using the showers sometimes."
"What's wrong with the showers? Rape?"
"Sometimes. But also rats and bugs. You don't always get soap. And sometimes, the toilets back up through the drains. It's disgusting. Rain is better. Sort of."
"It just never ends here, does it?"
"No."
Michael nodded. "We better get in. Keep the food dry. Alex might get hungry."
"Do you think he'd feel better if I sucked him off?" Tony asked.
"No," Michael said heatedly. "Don't touch him."
Tony gave him a wide eyed look.
"It's just... he's sick. All focused on being in pain and stuff. He'd probably just hit you. Or get sick all over you. You don't want that. And it'd just be bad. You know?"
"Okay." Tony shrugged. "I won't. Okay. Fine."
"Tony, I just don't think he'd want it. He's married. Or was. And sick."
He nodded. "Si. Sick." He sighed. "I don't want to go back. It's too hot. Small."
Michael looked at Tony. Then he tilted his head up to the sky, letting the rain splatter on his face. "Yeah," he said. "It is."
Part 8
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Michael/Mahone
Summary: Hell on earth is found at La Penitenciaría Federal de Sona.
Alex continued to shake as if he were going to fly apart for the rest of the day. He stopped complaining. Stopped talking. Stopped making any sounds except for the occasional bit off moan. He would squeezed his eyes shut, but not sleep. Couldn't sleep, Michael figured, because of the shaking and the rapid pace of his heart.
Michael was afraid to leave him. Even barring the fact that he was all but terrified to go outside, he was afraid of what would happen to Alex if he left. What if he stopped breathing? What if he threw up on himself? What if he needed to go to the bathroom and couldn't get there? What if...
So Michael stayed. He stayed n the room through lunch. He paced the small space. Stretched his back, his legs and arms the best he could. He counted to four thousand thirteen in primes and would have gone on if Alex hadn't gone through an particularly harsh bought of tremors. Once Alex had calmed back down, Michael had settled back and began squaring two as far as he could.
He was bored. Anxious. And, worst of all, he was completely and utterly helpless.
Hours past. Tony returned from his wandering with a pen. Then he settled next to Michael, entertaining himself by tossing an orange like a ball.
Michael wondered what he did around here, besides trade sex for things he needed. He wondered if there was anything to do around here except sit around and hope no one killed you.
A loud tone sounded out in the hall.
Tony picked his head up. Tugged on Michael's sleeve. "Come. Is dinner. We eat."
Michael shook his head. "I'd rather not. I'm safer here."
"No, is okay." He switched into Spanish as he said, "You fought Alejandro and won. You're still property, but they won't go after you like that anymore. Not now."
"I'd rather it not be ever."
Tony shrugged. "You're too pretty. Too new. Maybe in a few years you'll get high enough not to have to worry, but right now, you're fresh meat. Pretty fresh meat. You'll be courted."
"I hate prison."
"Who doesn't?"
Michael rubbed his head. "I'm fine here. You get dinner. I'll stay."
Tony sighed and shook his head. His dark eyes rolled. He pushed himself to his feet and went over to Alex. "Senor. Tell him is no good stay here. Should go. Get food." He put his hand on Alex's shoulder. Shook. "Tell him."
Alex moaned. Rolled over. When he sat up, he clutched his blanket around him tightly.
He looked awful. Gaunt, pale. Hollow eyed. Every bit of him was drawn tight with pain. Sweat rolled down his face, plastered his hair to his head.
"He's right," Alex croaked hoarsely. "You'll go crazy in here. Go out."
Michael shook his head. "No. I don't want to."
"You'll be fine. Trust me."
He snorted.
That drew and actual smile from Alex. Well. Something of a smile. "You haven't gotten me out yet. I still need you alive."
"True." He rubbed his forehead. "I'm scared."
"I know. But you can't stay in here forever. And if you stay today, it'll be easier to stay tomorrow. And even easier the next day. And then, it'll be a snap to wait here until I'm well enough to go out. And then you will be dependent on me. Is that what you want?"
"Isn't that what you want?"
"You know it isn't. I want you to get me the fuck out of here. And if you're too afraid to walk around this place without me, that's not going to happen and you know it. So get your ass out of this closet and get your goddamn dinner."
Michael's lips quirked. "I love it when you sweet talk me."
"Bring me back something."
"Yes, master." He rose. Tugged his shirt down. Ran a hand over his head. Pulled his sleeves over his hands. "Okay."
"The shiv." Alex picked it up from the floor and passed it to Michael. "Just in case."
"Right." He shoved it in his back pocket. "Okay. Don't, uh. Don't, like, die. Or anything."
Alex nodded. Shuddered. "I'll try not to. Go."
Michael nodded again. Tugged his sleeves. Turned and followed Tony out the door.
It was like breakfast all over again, just that morning, a lifetime ago. Men streaming through the hall, heading towards one place. The sharp smell of something fried in the air, mingling with unpleasant smells that clung to the walls. Everything was slower now. Movement. Feet shuffled. Not as frantic. The day had beaten them all down.
Men looked at him as he and Tony moved towards the mess hall. No one said anything to him, though, although the looks were appraising. Not just a pretty face anymore, he guessed. He'd killed.
He'd killed a man.
Pressure enclosed him. Crushed his lungs. Heart. Head. The world spun around him.
Reeling, he reached out. Clamped onto Tony.
"What's wrong?" Tony turned. Put his hands on Michael's hips. "You okay?"
He swallowed. Tightened his hands on Tony's shoulders. "I'm okay. Just... I'm okay."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I'm good. Thanks." He took a deep breath and stepped away. "Let's get food."
"You need food. You're sick because you were inside all day. We'll get food and go outside, okay?"
Michael nodded, grateful that Tony wasn't speaking either too fast nor using words that were too complicated. His Spanish was okay, but he was exhausted and hungry; words were beginning to go past him.
Tony led him into the mess hall. Together, they pressed through the throng to the food. There was meat, rice, and something that looked like potatoes. Lots of fruit. Things passing for vegetables. Dessert, but it was all being grabbed by huge guys who looked dangerous; Tony didn't even try to approach.
They got enough for the three of them, and then Tony, as promised, led Michael out into the open air. Together, they walked over the dusty, flattened grass to the wall, where they sat down, side by side.
Tony piled his shredded meat on a thick, flakey piece of bread. "You know, Señor isn't so bad when he's sick." He talked with his mouth open, like any teenager without much guidance. After he swallowed, he wiped his mouth on his shirt.
"He's really not so bad anyway." Michael gingerly bit into his own meal; it didn't taste bad, but it wasn't the taste he was worried about. So far, he hadn't gotten sick from eating what could be undercooked or contaminated food, but he was still wary.
Tony snorted. "I think maybe we should keep him drugged. Better for both of us."
"No."
"He's mean to you."
"I'm the reason he's here. He has cause to be angry with me."
The kid frowned at him. "What'd you do?"
Michael took another bite of his dinner. Scooped the rice into his mouth with his fingers, wishing there'd been utensils to go with the plate. "Back in the states, I broke my brother and me out of prison. Alex was assigned to bring me back. But everything got so... messed up." He sighed. "He's a good man. But there's a..." Michael fumbled around for the words in Spanish. Couldn't find them. Settled on, "People say my brother killed a man. But he didn't. They made it look like he did. The people, uh. Threatened Alex. His family. They told him to kill me. I don't think he really wanted to." He stopped, head aching. His tongue felt stupidly heavy.
"You made it all the way down here from the States?" Tony asked, sounding awed.
"Yes."
"California?"
"No. Illinois."
His eyes practically popped out of their sockets. "Wow. You must be a genius."
Michael shrugged and said, "I guess."
Tony nodded and settled back against the wall. He also moved closer to Michael, so their bodies were touching.
He wiped his forehead. The weather was hot and muggy. The sun shone weakly through a thick layer of clouds and the air smelled of rain. It was a day to sit far apart and drink nothing but ice water. A day for swimming. Just, for people not in prison.
"Senor said you're getting him out. You escaping here too?"
"That's the idea. I don't know if it's possible, though." He knocked his head against the wall behind him. "The last time, it took a year of planning. And I had the blueprints. And money. This time?" He shook his head.
Tony nodded. He looked serious. "Here, though, I bet you can bribe the guard."
"I don't have anything to bribe one with."
Tony's look was eloquent.
"No." He rubbed his hand on the dead grass. "I'm not trading my body. There's got to be another way out. A better way out." He frowned. "I just need to see the layout. What everything looks like. And then, hope for a miracle."
Tony shifted. Lay his head on Michael's shoulder. Moved even closer. "Can I come with you? I promise I can make it worth it. Make it really good for you."
He caught Tony's hand before it landed on his crotch. "No. I mean, yes, you can come with us. No, you don't have to... you know."
"But I want to."
His cheeks warmed. "I'm flattered, Tony, really. But no."
"What? You got a girlfriend out there?"
"I did. Sort of," Michael replied, his lips numb.
"You love her?"
"Yes." He swallowed painfully. Tears of pure frustration pressed behind his eyes. "But I need to forget her. If I'm going to get through this, it's better to...
He broke off. Shook his head.
Tony pulled Michael's dinner plate off his lap. Crawled onto Michael's lap. "Forget her with me," he whispered. His lips brushed over Michael's jaw. His neck. His chin.
Michael pushed him away. "Tony, you're the same age as my nephew. A kid."
He snorted. "I haven't been a kid for a long time."
"Yeah." He put his arm around Tony and hugged him. "I know. But, age-wise, you still are. And I wouldn't feel right taking advantage."
"I don't mind."
"I do."
"Hey, gringo!" a hugely muscular man barked. He strode out of the mess hall, carrying what looked to be some kind of pastry. Behind him, beaten, swollen, and limping, was Bellick.
Michael stood and took a half-step forward. He pushed Tony behind him, at least part way. "Yeah?" he said warily, wrapping his hand around the shiv.
The man shoved the pastry at Michael. "This for you. You join me."
He shook his head. "No thank you," he said Spanish.
Relief flashed over the man's face. "I'm Raoul. I want you. Three white boys were brought in yesterday. I've got one." He jerked his head back at Bellick. "I'll take you. The other, too."
"No."
He stepped closer, backing Michael against the wall. "I'll treat you good." He tore a piece off the pastry and pressed it to Michael's lips. "A gringo like you deserves respect."
Sugar glaze brushed onto Michael's lips. He licked them unconsciously. When he opened his mouth to say no again, Raoul pushed the piece into his mouth.
Startled, Michael pulled away, knocking his head against the wall. "I already, uh, I already belong to..."
"Si, I know. The other gringo took you. I'll take care of him, too. You both are good fighters. Not like this whore." He kicked Bellick.
Michael winced. "He was shot the other day."
Raoul shrugged. "Whatever. I'll protect you and your man. Give you food. Clothes. You stay with me."
"I..."
"Think about it. Ask the other. Things can be good for you, or very, very bad. Just think." He pushed the pastry against Michael's chest. Then he grabbed Bellick by the shirt and dragged him away.
The former guard threw a look at Michael as he went. In his eyes was something like hatred and something a lot like desperation.
"I'm sick of this," Michael said. He broke off a chunk of the pastry and handed it to Tony.
"Least he didn't hurt you."
"This time." He shook his head. "I think it's time to go back."
"No, stay. Just for a little bit longer. It's good for you to be in the fresh air, you know that. Stay."
Michael sighed. Closed his eyes. He did feel a little bit better out here, even if all he was doing was sitting down. Being in the closet was... hard. If he closed his eyes and let his mind drift, he got confused. Went back *there*, to the closet his foster father had locked him in all those many years ago. Although, to be honest, he didn't know which was worse: that hell or this.
"What's there to do around here? Besides fighting and sex?"
"Um. Drugs."
"Anything else?"
"Some people gamble. Cards. Dice. The yard's got some footballs. People run. Weights. Sometimes there's a paper to read. Books, if someone makes a donation, but those get torn up real fast. Mostly, no. Just, nothing but sit and don't do nothing."
He heaved another sigh. "I'm going to go crazy." He scratched his arm. "As soon as Alex is better, we need to work on getting out of here. You'll be a big help, Tony. You know where everything is. The weak spots. Maybe when the guards come around. Unguarded places. Something."
"I'll help. Yeah." Tony moved up swiftly and placed a kiss on the corner of Michael's mouth. "But you can't go crazy, okay?"
"I'll do my best." A raindrop plopped on the top of Michael's head. "Ah, shit." He tilted his face back. "Does it ever not rain here?"
"Some days, yes." Tony stood up and held his arms out. "Sometimes, when it rains, I just strip down and let it go all over me. It's better than using the showers sometimes."
"What's wrong with the showers? Rape?"
"Sometimes. But also rats and bugs. You don't always get soap. And sometimes, the toilets back up through the drains. It's disgusting. Rain is better. Sort of."
"It just never ends here, does it?"
"No."
Michael nodded. "We better get in. Keep the food dry. Alex might get hungry."
"Do you think he'd feel better if I sucked him off?" Tony asked.
"No," Michael said heatedly. "Don't touch him."
Tony gave him a wide eyed look.
"It's just... he's sick. All focused on being in pain and stuff. He'd probably just hit you. Or get sick all over you. You don't want that. And it'd just be bad. You know?"
"Okay." Tony shrugged. "I won't. Okay. Fine."
"Tony, I just don't think he'd want it. He's married. Or was. And sick."
He nodded. "Si. Sick." He sighed. "I don't want to go back. It's too hot. Small."
Michael looked at Tony. Then he tilted his head up to the sky, letting the rain splatter on his face. "Yeah," he said. "It is."
Part 8
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-04-26 06:48 am (UTC)Michael's lips quirked. "I love it when you sweet talk me."
"Bring me back something."
"Yes, master."
Mwahaha! Excellent... And oh, oh the images that leap to mind...
Also, there's a lot to this chapter. You've elaborated the power dynamics of the prison, developed the relationships, brought Bellick in (and not too much, thank god - the less of Bellick the better, but it was necessary to acknowledge his presence since we all know he's there), furthered the plot by bringing Tony into the escape plans and adding a another new threat that has more potential than the random fights we've seen so far (although I can imagine how those could come back to bit the boys in the ass at some point). All this when, technically, all that really happens is that they go for dinner. And, as always, you advance the story with rich layers without labouring it - it's all natural.
Good work. :)
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 07:28 pm (UTC)Aren't they lovely images, too? I love writing the happier snark now. They still aren't sure of each other, but they recognize it's fun to play. :P
the less of Bellick the better,
Amen. I hope I dont' have to use him too much. I am defintely not a fan.
Thank you!!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-26 08:58 am (UTC)Guh! Supreme snark! With undertones of D/s to boot!
I also love all the little throwbacks like Sara, and Michael being locked in the cupboard by his foster dad. And beaten down Bellick just had to be acknowledged.
So much implied in that one little 'no' Ah, Michael is subconciously jealous at the thought of Tony sucking off Alex, I love it!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 07:29 pm (UTC)And completely clueless as to why the idea is so very, very wrong. HE'll learn. :)
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 07:40 pm (UTC)Very glad to hear it!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-26 12:26 pm (UTC)Well, the combination of me feeling reeeeally bad about that and the aforementioned fact of the story itself being insanely AMAZING has successfully drawn me out of lurker status :P
This is actually the only fic in any fandom i'm religiously reading at the moment ♥ I literally pounce on the link each time an update pops up on my friends list! :P Its just so... perfect. There's lots of fics in any fandom, but then there's one or two which by the end of them, you find yourself considering them canon ;) Let me tell you, in my mind, forget season 3 of the actual show... THIS is EXACTLY how the story pans out! ♥
Characterisation is spot on, i'm loving the story itself, and you're slowly crafting the 'relationship' between Michael/Mahone so brilliantly. I cant wait to see where you take it all!
So yes... I sincerely apologise for lurking and not commenting up until this point! I seriously adore this fic ♥ Keep up the great work!
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Date: 2007-04-27 07:31 pm (UTC)Let me tell you, in my mind, forget season 3 of the actual show... THIS is EXACTLY how the story pans out! ♥
I should send it to them and demand they do this. Don't know what leverage I'd have over them, but still. :)
Thank you so much!!!!
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Date: 2007-04-26 03:48 pm (UTC)I like this part. It's quite depressing but you've captured what seems "alive" to me - the scenes, the dialogues, and all other stuff.
but lol, Tony, keep your hands off him! xP
Hope Alex gets better ..im beginning to worry like for real!
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Date: 2007-04-27 07:32 pm (UTC)He will. I've been looking in to withdrawal and stuff, and it goes on for days/weeks. I'm going to try and... skip most of it, because boring and all, but he'll come out okay.
Thank you!!!
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Date: 2007-04-26 07:49 pm (UTC)"Okay. Don't, uh. Don't, like, die. Or anything."
Hehe, love that line.
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Date: 2007-04-27 07:32 pm (UTC)Don't tempt me. ;P It's hard enough to keep Michael from giving in as it is.
Thanks!
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Date: 2007-04-26 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 07:33 pm (UTC)If life were perfect, I'd be doing Michael right now. :)
Uh. I mean, yeah. That's about it.
Thanks!
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>"DO YOU THINK he'd feel better if I SUCKED HIM OFF?" Tony asked.<
YAY! This line rocks. LOL! Ah, I couldn't stop laughing. I can see this picture right before me, it's so funny!
Well, and I think I come closer to the good action now...(exitement grows)
Thank you for sharing this