Character/Pairing: T-Bag, Michael
Rating: PG-13 to R
Summary: Pain comes full circle, Pretty.
Author's Notes: I was listening to Mandy Moore when I wrote this. It's sort of a sentence fic, but sort of not.I was doing a non-slashy fic for once, but i didn't want to do it in the usual format of fan fiction. So I wrote it like this. I hope you like it. And my user dictionary says that Abruzzi isn't an actual word and suggests 'Fuzziness'. I laughed.
Words : 1441
Disclaimer: I do not own these pretty boys, otherwise if I did, Michael'd have been put in T-Bag's cell. And this show would be on HBO.
Violence was something Theodore lived with. Embraced and coddled to be his own love child. Violence soared through his veins, buoyed him up off his feet then set him back until he was blind with red, red rage. Sweet gasps of agony were his Mozart, sobs of pain were his instruments of which he created a cacophonic orchestra of tears, blood and torn flesh.
/Michael was passive-aggressive. He fought when necessary, which wasn't all the time the younger man choosing to avoid confrontation, his logical choice being to flee before he fought. He'd stayed alive long enough to understand he was Lincoln Burrow's brother, and that would attract him a degree of trouble./
Blood covered his fingers, hiccups escaping his lips as salty tears traced down his cheeks, and snot dribbled from his broken nose. Daddy laid there staring up at him with that infernal...eternal grin of dominance. He was 18 fresh from Juvenile hall. The crowbar slipped from his slick fingers, where he straddled his fathers bulging stomach and tossed his head back to release a wailing howl.
/The first time Michael had tasted blood was when Lincoln had punched him, sending saliva and blood against the opposite wall. Agony flared up inside of Michael, and his eyes narrowed through the hazy tears. His lips had twisted in anger, words of hate coming from his lips until Lincoln's heavy form stormed from his apartment, the door slamming. Michael stared at the blood that stained the wall, still frowning./
Licking his lips, he felt the pains of hunger course through his heroin-deprived body, quick and paranoid eyes darting along the corner, searching for food. Panic roared through his veins - 24 and homeless now since his uncle John had been framed from the murder of his father. Uncle John hated his father for raping Teddy's momma, the crazy old codger having screamed his revenge for his retarded sister's virtue. Patiently Theodore waited in an alleyway for his next victim and meal ticket.
/Michael had not been moved when Lincoln had been put in jail for battery. He had not even bothered going to the trail, and ignored his friend's sympathy when Lincoln had been sentenced - 'He got what was coming to him.' He said coldly over a beer, and they'd backed off after that./
Her eyes were a sweetest color of brown, and her hair was like silk when he ran his fingers through it feeling his heart beat slow into something normal. Sweat dotted and shone on their bodies from the frantic coupling they'd done, before the children would get home from school and Teddy had to go back to the shambling apartment he stayed in. A kiss, languid with the passion he shared for her, ignited their desires again and Theodore pressed against her, hearing her moans of 'Yes.'
/Sweaty from the sex he'd just had, Michael pulled on his clothes, pressing the bills into the prostitute's hand, leaving with his personal filth on him. He never showered after these encounters, wanting to feel as rancid and despicable as he felt when he pushed himself inside one of these girls. His own personal torture./
When the steel bars clanked shut in front of his face, Theodore could only feel a red hot rage. An anger that had burned as brightly as his love. With the brown eyes of his cell mate on his back, a man in for drug charges and battery, Theodore thought of all the ways she would pay for this.
/Michael sobbed in his apartment as he held the razor to his wrist, unable to draw more than a thin line of blood. He could feel the blackness taking over, the want to hurt as he hurt. He wanted all those girls to pay for making him feel dirty, but he knew...he knew in his heart, that it was only him making himself dirty./
Sink, as the man was called, grunted above him forcing himself deeper into Theodore. The smaller man had his hips in the air, his fingers curled in the pillow as he was forcibly coupled with. He didn't care - it was all the same, like with Daddy and Jimmy. His fingers clenched against the soft pillow and a flash of young, nubile bodies came to his mind with frightened eyes and blood - he came so roughly that Sink had almost screamed.
/Michael serviced himself with another prostitute, with thoughts of Lincoln on his mind. It was the only way he could come any more, inside these disgusting women and their ridiculous moans. Their cries of forced passion made him want to vomit - he never kissed them, it would probably make it worse./
The years passed with no problems, Theodore gaining leadership in Fox River. He was sad when Sink was paroled, but his new cell mate was a pretty young thing with a mohawk of alternating colors, an eager mouth and hands he had to slap away. It was a perfect way to pass the time.
/Michael sat in the courtroom, not making eye contact with Lincoln as the man was sentenced to Death Row. When his brother embraced him, and whispered 'Never forget,I love you', into his neck Michael made up his mind to get him out of Prison./
The new fish caught his eye, and Maytag was jealous. He knew it from their sex. Maytag would no longer moan as exuberantly as he used to. Was less...giving with the touches T-Bag was soon used to, less giving with the middle-of-the-night blowjobs and handjobs. Theodore frowned.
/Staring into those dark brown eyes of a man he was disgusted by, Michael found respect inside himself. This man -commanded- respect. In a small way, they all respected him, for his disturbing crimes, swaggering hips and sharp tongue and accent. Michael was drowning in those eyes./
When Theodore tasted the outside air for the first time in 2 and a half years, he felt something break inside of him. Something that was so beautiful that he was moved to sob. he couldn't though, and had to hold it in. He knew the men had it in for him, especially Abruzzi, so he'd handcuffed himself to the Pretty to prevent his...pre-mature elimination from life. Or maybe it was just to be closer to the younger man.
/Anger coursed through him as they ran for the barn, stumbling and wheezing with the older man beside him. Surprise had coursed through him when they were slammed to the car front. Shock had coursed through him when Theodore had 'sworn to God', this man believed in God? Fear had coursed through him at the sight of the axe. Pity and disgust had overtaken him when Theodore had screamed like that, the limb on the ground looking so pathetic. Michael ran./
He stood in front of the pretty green door, holding a shotgun in his hand. Anger surged through him when a young boy answered the door. He forced himself inside the house, shoved the frightened child into the hall closet and raped him while holding his mouth shut. He slit the boys soft throat as he fucked him. He left the bloody body in the closet and headed upstairs, cocking the shotgun. When he shot Sink in the chest, he stared into Michael's frightened eyes.
/Michael had never wanted to scream so hard in his life, but the only thing that came out was a 'Why..?'. He didn't expect an answer, staring into the shotgun barrel that had just blown a hole into his brother's chest./
When the Pretty asked him the question, Theodore answered - "Because pain comes full circle, Pretty. It comes full circle. We were destined to meet. You were destined to betray me in that barn house...and I was destined to kill you." The panic that had flared up in Michael's eyes was perfect, when Theodore forced him onto the bed. He didn't rape him, but he wrapped his good hand around the boys neck, strangling him while his weaker hand stroked Michael's cheek. "Never forget...I love you, Michael." he purred before the body stilled beneath him.