Cells.

Rating : R-ish :)

Timeline : Right after 1x16’s ending.

Pairings : Michael/Sara, Lincoln/Veronica, no incest, or real slash.

Summary : Getting in means getting out. - Michael is determined about getting his brother out ouf Fox River, and now his only key is a new PI job. Also, Sara is in danger, people think she knows some info, yet she doesn’t. Two weeks left for the execution.

Disclaimer : I own nothing related to Prison Break.

Author’s Notes : Hey :) This is my first PB fiction. Actually, this has been written in Turkish first, and now it’s being translated. I’ve translated and beta-ed the first 2 pages of this story, and will continue to do so if it gets attention :) So please, if you think I should continue, drop me a line :)

Thanks : To Dilek and Lucy. It wouldn’t be like this without them :)

Cells.

“Whenever there are rules of law, there will always be people who will break those rules. We consider these acts of rule breaking to be deviant from the standards set by our community.” All of the students in the class were listening intently to their older professor. Although she was old in years, her appearance did not betray her age. Her eyes shone with intensity as she crossed the front of her classroom, revelling in her power as a teacher.

“Deviance is a reality of society. The members within our society that commit acts of deviance make it a reality. We come face to face with deviance every day. We have to make choices every day which may place the label of “deviant” upon us. Crime, as you will come to see, is not the only type of deviance within a society,” she said.

“While legal deviance is often encompassed within the single word of “crime”, there are so many different types of crime and ways that they can be committed that we cannot ever fully describe crime accurately,” she said, turning her eyes back on the students.

After discussing the roots of the word “deviance”, the professor went on to discuss the history and the usage of the word throughout the 1930s and 40s. One of the students, a pretty young woman, was listening intently like her fellow classmates. She played with her pen as her eyes fixed on the professor in front of her. She continued to listen to the lecture, occasionally pausing to take down a note, smiling as each important point struck a chord inside her.

--

“The actions of the district attorney in the case are not only deviant, they are borderline criminal!”

The district attorney jumped from his seat and immediately roared back, “Criminal? Excuse me, your honor, but the counselor is out of line! Accusing a district attorney of criminal actions?”

The judge slammed her gavel against the desk, forcing a silence over the courtroom. The district attorney began to button up his jacket as the defense attorney watched him with disgust.

Eyeing both attorneys, the judge spoke slowly.

“In the future, Miss Donovan, I would hope that you would be able to maintain some decorum,” the judge said sternly.

“Your honor, we are only, only talking about a human being here,” Miss Donovan said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “A human being who deserves justice. He is a human being that is claiming to be innocent, and you can’t dismiss the fact that this can be true. He deserves more than this court has given him – the chance to prove these claims. He is not an animal. There have been anomalies with this case from the beginning. There have been witnesses who have been withheld from the defense. We simply need more time to uncover exculpatory evidence.”

Veronica gave the judge a forceful look.

“Lıncoln Burrows is not an animal, your honor. He is a living, breathing human being with a family. He deserves better than this,” she said, glancing at the district attorney. He returned her gaze with a look of exasperation.

--

“LADIES! I’m not going to wait for all day! Hurry it up!”

The inmates began to walk faster at the sound of the guard’s voice. A new day was beginning at Fox River. There was a chill in the air from a sudden snowstorm the night before. The inmates were still allowed winter jackets as they walked through the yard.

“Hey Fish, how’s your shoulder?” one of the inmates asked.

A young man turned to answer. This man was different from the others. He did not fit the part of a hardened criminal. The only thing different about this man was the maze of tattoos covering his back, hidden from view by his clothing.

“It’s fine,” he answered.

After hearing this, the young man smiled and replied, “Good, but you gotta remember – they’re fucking with Sucre real bad on this one, man. You gotta save him, he went to the wall for you on this one.”

“What did they—“ he asked, frowning, his blue eyes searching for an answer as he was interrupted by another inmate.

A black inmate had walked over to talk to C-Note, “Hey, C-Note. Your cards-“

“Get lost.”

The inmate shrugged and walked away, mumbling to himself. C-Note turned to the man with blue eyes and started up their conversation again.

“Pope called him in first thing this morning. I heard Bellick was in there with him, questioning... more like beating the shit out of him. Sucre isn’t back yet.”

The blue eyed man nodded, but didn’t speak. C-Note walked away, wondering what the Fish was about to do. Michael Scofield, the blue eyed man, turned and walked in the opposite direction. His powerful mind began calculating his next move. He had to get Sucre out, after all – it was his fault that he was in trouble with the man.

--

“Where were you this morning?”

Michael turned to look at the weary old man in front of him before answering.

“I was with my brother.. Pope loosened his grip on me after the last incident...”

The old man nodded then asked, “What do you think they will do to Sucre? If it’s up to Bellick then we’re—“

“For Bellick to handle things, Warden needs to believe him first...” Michael said, with a knowing glint in his eye.

“What does Sucre say?” Westmoreland asked, still searching Michael’s face for an answer.

“That he found me like that, but didn’t know how it happened.”

“What did you say?”

“They haven’t asked me yet...”

Westmoreland frowned, deep in thought. “What did the lady doctor say?”

With a glance towards the sick bay, Michael admitted, “I don’t know.”

--

“Hello Sara-“

“Oh!” A pretty red-haired woman jumped to her feet, startled by the sudden interruption. The older man that had just walked in looked at her, appraisingly.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry about that,” he said.

Dr. Sara Tancredi smiled slightly. “I was distracted, don’t worry about it. Was there something you needed, sir?”

“I came here to ask you a few questions about Michael Scofield,” he said.

She nodded, playing with her stethescope uneasily. Her green eyes tried to stay level as she watched him.

“I read that you were the one that patched up Scofield’s shoulder”, Warden Pope said.

Sara nodded, still unsure of what the warden wanted. “I needed to take care of it. It was a serious burn, not something a nurse could handle. Is there a problem?”

“No, no, Sara. As you know, I’m a believer in inmate rights and they deserve the best medical treatment they can get, so I’m pleased with your work. The reason that I’m here is that there has been an investigation started into how the burn occurred. We’re looking at his cellmate, Sucre, as the one responsible.”

Sara shook her head and said, “No, sir. I don’t think that Sucre was responsible. The burn was fresh and there’s no way Sucre had enough tools in his cell to create a burn that wide.”

“You’re sure about that? We don’t see how it could have been anyone else,”

“Michael also said that Sucre didn’t do it. He was in and out of consciousness with the anesthesia, but he was adamant that Sucre wasn’t involved. I don’t think this is a case of the prisoner’s code either, sir. I’m almost certain Michael was telling the truth.”

Sara looked at the warden with a puzzled expression.

“Why? What did Sucre say about it, sir?”

“He said that Michael had been acting weird the whole day. That night, he heard groans of pain. All of a sudden, Scofield fell to the floor and started screaming. That was when the guards rushed to his cell and found him like that,” the Warden replied, with a sigh. He was clearly disappointed that they had no leads on the attack.

Sara shuddered as she thought about the awful pain Michael must have been in; the thought of his screams echoed through her mind. “Something large must have caused that burn, sir. A frying pan couldn’t have caused a burn that big – however, if you had something burning hot pressed against your shoulder constantly... well, I just don’t know what to tell you, sir-”

“So it couldn’t have been Sucre,” the warden finally admitted. Sara nodded, but then asked the question that both of them were thinking, “Well, who is it then?”

--

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