Maximum Ride: No Life Behind Bars

Disclaimer: I own, like, nothing. Prison Break, MR, heck, even this story line has probably been used before! So, I own nothing in this fic, which is probably for the best.

Panama City, Mexico

Michael Scofield scanned the courtyard. Again. He let out a relieved sigh. No sign of Lechero, the headhunter at the Sona maximum prison, who had it out for Michael.

“No sign of him, huh?” asked a voice. Michael didn’t flinch as he turned his blue eyes up to stare at former FBI Agent Alexander Mahone. The man who’d hunted Michael and his brother, Lincoln. Who’d killed their father. Who’d…..saved his life. Michael sighed.

“What do you want, Alex?” he asked wearily.

“You’ve gotta get us out of here!” Mahone begged, kneeling down so that he and Michael were eye to eye. The corners of Michael’s mouth twitched.

“Do I?” he asked. “I don’t have to do anything.” His heart lurched at the realization that yes, he did have to get them out of here. Himself, Mahone and a man named Whistler. If he didn’t, Sara and LJ were dead. “Besides,” he added, trying to stop those thoughts. “I’m waiting to meet my new cellmate.” Mahone snorted as he sat on the steps beside Michael.

“Considering your last one, he can’t be any worse.” He commented. Michael smirked. The agent was right; nothing could be worse than his cellmate. The man had accused him of theft and then had tried to kill him. Michael’s mind flashed back to that day:

The man lay in the ground, stunned by the blows of Michael’s fists. Michael turned again to try and leave, but the crowd shoved him back in, eager to see someone die. Behind his back, someone slipped the man a knife. He grabbed it, straightened up and charged at Michael’s unprotected back. Any shouted warnings were drowned out in the crowd. Just as it seemed like the bloodshed would begin, a hand grabbed the attacker’s wrist, twisting it enough to break it. Michael whirled around to stare with the shocked crowd as Mahone almost calmly snapped the man’s neck.

Michael was yanked back to the present as he heard Mahone’s voice.

“What?” he asked, looking up sharply.

“I said do you know who your new cellie is?” repeated the agent.

“Lechero just said he’d find me.” Michael replied.

“And you listened to that man?” Mahone growled.

“Are you Scofield?” asked a voice. Both men looked up. A girl stood there, about fifteen. She was pretty, with blonde hair and blue eyes.

“Uh, yeah.” Michael replied. “Are you my new cellmate?” The girl tossed her hair back and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah. I’m Max.” she said.

“What’s a kid like you doing in here?” Mahone asked, voicing his and Michael’s thoughts. “I mean, you’re what? Thirteen?”

“I’m fourteen.” The girl snapped. “And it wasn’t my fault. Nobody told me that his neck would snap that easily!”

“You killed someone?” Mahone said, trying to suppress a smile. The girl’s blue eyes narrowed.

“Yeah. Want me to demonstrate?” she growled. Just then, T-Bag walked up. He eyed the girl and Michael wanted to wipe the smug smirk off his face.

“Hey li’l darlin’.” He called in his Southern accent. “You look lost. Want me to show you around?” Max turned to face him. Michael shot to his feet, wanting to get this kid away from the creep. Others assembled, and they all saw what had once been thought impossible. Max’s upper lip curled in disgust.

“What?” she snarled. “No candy?”

“Maybe we can find us some.” T-Bag suggested slyly. Lechero walked out just in time to see Max grab T-Bag’s arm and twist it to one side easily, as if she were swatting at a bug.

T-Bag screamed in pain.

“YOU’RE BREAKING MY ARM!!” he howled.

“No I’m not. See, if I was going to break your arm, I’d turn it this way.” The girl replied, rotating the arm in the opposite direction. “Listen to me very carefully, you one handed freak.” She growled. “I’ve seen my fair share of skirmishes, and I’m a pretty good fighter, too. So let me make one thing very clear: You come near me again, don’t think that I can’t – and won’t – kick your skinny white butt from here to next week!” She released him and then stomped off. Michael followed her, the only sounds in the courtyard being their footsteps and T-Bag’s sobbing.

That was very foolish, Max.

Shut up, Jeb. Max thought furiously as she entered the prison.

Making enemies is not the best way to make friends.

No freaking duh, Dad. Max’s cellmate walked behind her, not saying anything. He simply stopped at their cell.

“Which bunk?” Max asked gruffly. He shrugged, clearly letting her choose. Score one for him. Max eyed the bunks and then her cellmate. “You’re taller.” She grunted, tossing her coat on the bottom bunk. He nodded and put his hoodie on the top. Someone cleared their throat and both turned. A tall black man stood there.

“That was some confrontation.” He commented. Max snorted.

“You’d best make sure that your boy watches his back.” She said coolly.

Max, you are going to give me gray hair.

Too late. Max thought as she spoke again to the apparent leader of the jail. “The same goes for everyone in this dump. Anybody lays a finger on me; they’re going to find themselves short a few brain cells.” He nodded and looked at her cellmate.

“You’ve got the Superstar here as your cellmate.” He commented. Max blinked. Jeb, what is he talking about?

Michael Scofield, broke his brother out of prison and just as they proved him innocent, Michael was arrested for murder. Rumor is he took the rap for a friend.

I knew that you were useful for something. Max thought as she shrugged.

“Yeah. So what?” she asked. The man smirked.

“I just think it’s interesting. I don’t like the Superstar.” He explained. Max snorted.

“And I care about this….why?” she asked in a nonchalant voice. The smirk vanished.

“Don’t be countin’ on me to protect you from any of these lowlifes.” The man growled. “You’re in his crowd, you’re not in mine.” Max smiled evilly.

“No worries. I can take pretty good care of myself.” She replied. “In case you didn’t notice.” She added.

“You’re as great of a fool as he is.” The man snarled. He snapped and another man behind him stepped forward. Max tensed, ready.

That’s good, Max. Trust your instincts. Jeb advised. The man simply handed her a towel and stepped back. They began to leave.

“Hey!” Max barked suddenly. “And for your information, the ‘Superstar’ happens to be my cellmate. So if anybody wants to mess with him, they go through me!” The man turned, grinning.

“That doesn’t seem so hard.” He commented. One of his men stepped forward. Everything in Max screamed at her to extend her wings and show these creeps who they were messing with. But she simply studied the man. If he takes one more step, he is so mine!

Patience, Max. Wait for him to make the first move. Finally, some advice she liked. The man glared at her. Right hook, Max. Jeb said, as if Max hadn’t seen it a mile away. She ducked her head to avoid it, and then slammed her sneaker into the man’s gut. He let out a choked gasp and crumpled. Max shoved back a lock of hair and glared at the lead man.

“I don’t budge that easy.” She growled. He looked furious, but he merely called his men back and they left. Max smiled grimly and flexed her muscles. That was fun. Maybe this prison thing won’t be so bad.

A/N: Please don’t flame this. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to review! If you like it, please let me know!