Fic: Sona

[serafina20]

Fic: Sona
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Michael/Mahone
Summary: Hell on earth is found at La Penitenciaría Federal de Sona.
Author's Notes: The kids had a lot of independent work today. I wrote. I'm a bad teacher.



Michael was afraid of the dark.

No. Scratch that.

He was afraid of the dark in the closet.

It wasn't nothing he said. When Alex had suggested they try to get some sleep and turned off the light, Michael hadn't said a word. He didn't complain as he lay on his mattress scant inches from Alex, stiff and breathing quickly. He said nothing as he drifted to an uneasy sleep, tossing from side to side and muttering under his breath. And he didn't complain when he cried out and began struggling against an unknown opponent some time later.

Alex, who couldn't sleep anyway, reached out and put his hand on Michael's shoulder. Pushed. "Michael."

He cringed, pulling away. He exhaled hard, eyes flying open. When his eyes caught Alex, he calmed. Moved back to his original position. Lay silent, gazing sightlessly upward.

"You okay?"

Michael nodded. Then he shook his head. His breathing sped up. Became loud. Labored. Frantic.

Alex pushed himself up. "What's wrong?"

"It's...it's...it's...it's too dark," Michael gasped. He sat up, hyperventilating. "I c-can't b-breathe."

"Put your head between your legs," Alex said. He pushed Michael's head down and stood. Reaching up, he pulled the cord on the light.

Even with the sock over it, it was too bright. Wincing, he pulled another sock from the bag and rolled it over. The room dimmed to a soft glow.

Michael was still struggling to breathe. Alex crouched besides him and put his hand on Michael's back.

"Just concentrate on breathing. In and out. You're okay. Safe."

"No."

"Yes, you are. Anyone comes for you, I've got your back. You know that," he said, trying to ignore the steady trembling all over his body. The twisting of his stomach. The splitting headache and the way his legs could barely support him. "Just relax." He rubbed Michael's back.

Gradually, his breathing slowed. The tight muscles in Michael's back and neck relaxed.

"I'm sorry," Michael said when he was calm. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Alex lay back down, pulling the blanket around him. "You didn't."

He nodded. Closed his eyes and stretched on the mattress next to the dead-to-the-world Tony. Heaved a deep sigh.

Alex rolled onto his side. Faced Michael. The dim light was kind to the other man. It muted the bruises and cuts that decorated his face. The dark circles underneath his eyes. The light lightly kissed his face. Brought back the glow he'd had when he and Tony had stumbled in after dinner, soaked through, covered in mud, and grinning like fools.

"We, uh, got in a mud fight," Michael had confessed at Alex's raised eyebrow.

"Ah." Because he didn't know what else to say. There really was nothing. The two boys had gone out into the fresh air, had fun, while Alex was stuck in a closet dealing with the consequences of his addiction.

Now the happiness was gone. Every part of Michael was drawn tight. His face was creased with worry. Terror.

Alex wanted to make the terror and tension go away. Get him to relax. Even laugh.

Funny. Just twenty-four hours ago he wouldn't have cared. Had wanted to make Michael suffer for all he'd done. And Michael had seemed willing to return the favor.

And then...

Michael didn't have to care for Alex the way he did. Needn't have hidden him away. Made him comfortable. He could have let Alex stay in his sweat and vomit soaked clothes. Forced him to feed himself. To get his own food from the mess hall. Fend for his own life.

But he hadn't. Michael had shown kindness. Concern. Helped Alex, much more than he deserved.

He'd done it because the fucking asshole was a good man. Damn him.

"I saw Bellick," Michael said suddenly.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. That man who gave me the pastry? He had him. All beaten and limping. I saw him when I got here, too. Barely recognizable." He licked his lips. "Raped."

Alex nodded. "He was weak."

"That's not fair." Michael opened his eyes.

"You want to whine about fair?" Alex sneered. Are we somehow receiving special treatment around here that makes Bellick's treatment unfair?"

He shook his head, wordless.

"We have fought for every damn thing we have. The space. The clothes. The food. The fact we haven't been raped. We have fought tooth and nail and won. He didn't. End of story. That's life. Fair? I don't give a fuck about fair. I want to survive."

Michael blew a puff of air out. "Yeah. I guess."

"Put him out of your mind, Michael. He never did you any favors anyway."

Michael still looked troubled. "Raoul said he wanted all three of us. Like we were a collection or something." He bit his thumb.

"So you said before. We'll just have to find a way to say no without making an enemy."

"I don't know if we can take him. He's big. Strong."

"We're going to have to. I refuse to become someone's property. And your ass is min, so..."

He was pleased when it drew a laugh from Michael. "Right. How could I forget. You are my lord and master."

"I should make you kiss my feet."

Michael propped himself on his elbows. Looked down at Alex's feet. Wrinkled his nose. "No thank you. They look filthy."

Alex put his foot on Michael's leg. Shoved. "Bad puppy."

That got another laugh. "You're weird."

"It's the drugs. They make me weird. I'm completely normal otherwise."

"Intense. Brilliant. Driven. Romantic," Michael said. "You're right. In all my research on you, I never came across anyone saying you were weird."

"Who told you I was all that?"

Michael shrugged. "I read some of it in your performance reviews. Pam said the last." His cheeks colored. "Sorry. You're wife. Ex."

Alex's mood soured. "Pam is off limits for discussion."

"Okay." Michael rolled onto his stomach. Pillowed his head on his arms. "Tony asked me if you'd feel better if he gave you a blow job."

"Oh?"

"I hope you don't mind that I answered for you." He lifted his head and looked at Alex. "I said no."

"Well, you do continually fend off his advances. You probably don't know how to say anything else to him."

"You think I should say yes?"

"You're very tense. It might help."

He rolled his eyes. "He's fifteen years old. The same age as L.J. It's just wrong."

"I notice you're not protesting because of his gender."

"The F.B.I.'s great mind at work."

Alex snorted. "I didn't get the job for my looks, you know."

"I guess not."

"So," Alex said, rolling onto his back. "Are we talking college experimentation, prison wolf blues, passing interest, or utter flexibility?"

Michael shrugged and replied, "I guess the last. I've never really cared one way or the other. Sex is just a means to an end anyway."

That caught his interest full force. Alex rolled back onto his side and propped himself up. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"People mistake sex for intimacy. They think knowing someone's body means you know them. Give them that, and they stop pressing to know you better. They think you already do."

Alex frowned. "You use sex to keep people at a distance?"

"It works," Michael said carelessly.

"But why?"

"Asks the man drugging himself into a stupor to keep the world at bay."

"Because I couldn't handle what I did," Alex said, still trying to wrap his mind around what Michael was saying. "I couldn't handle what it said about me. Because the guilt made me lose control and I didn't want to hurt those I love. Because I've spent the last year in utter fear of... everything. That's why I drugged myself. But, before that, all my life. I love. I had Pam. I was open to her. She knew me, all the way in."

Michael arched an eyebrow. "Except the darkness in you."

"Well. We all keep our dark parts hidden, even from those we love."

Michael nodded. "I'm all darkness."

Dumbstruck, Alex could only look at Michael's eerily serene face. Bits and pieces of what he knew of the man flashed through his mind. His psychological profile. The thoughts of the psychologist who'd treated him.

Low self-worth.

High empathy.

Little sense of self.

Low Latent Inhibition.

So much darkness all around him, and Michael just absorbed it all. Bled from his soul for the pain. Mistook the outer for the inner. Thought himself evil when, in so many ways, he was the most noble man in Alex's acquaintance.

"No one is all darkness."

"T-Bag."

"Forget him," Alex said sharply. "He can't hurt you here."

Michael rolled to his side. Faced Alex. "He'll show up. Why wouldn't he? You, me, and Bellick all are."

"If he does, I won't let him near you."

"You're going to protect me."

"I am your lord and master. And your ass does belong to me, so..."

Michael smiled sleepily. "That's right. It is."

"If you need, I'm sure we can arrange to have that fact tattooed somewhere. You've got to have some space somewhere."

He yawned. "No. I won't forget again." Another yawn cracked his jaw.

"Sleep. You need it."

"So do you."

He shook his head. "I'm fine. I'll rest. Eventually sleep. Just... you sleep."

Michael nodded and closed his eyes. Alex watched as his face gradually relaxed. His breathing evened. And, finally, sleep claimed him.

Alex sighed. Careful not to wake him, Alex reached out and placed his hand on Michael's stomach. Felt the gentle rise and fall as he breathed. Heaved a sigh of his own.

Damn. He was beginning to like the guy.

Part 9