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New (long) Wentworth interview

2009-09-06T21:12:42Z

It's not always bad living in Holland! I found this new interview with Went today. Just click Entertainment and then amongst the september 2 videos (remember the date is written the other way around in Europe) there's one viedo that says "wat te doen na Prison Break" and that's the one. Enjoy!

http://www.rtl.nl/components/actueel/rtlboulevard/index_video.xml

girlfromworld @ 2009-05-31T14:15:00

2009-05-31T12:18:22Z

Made another ballpoint pen drawing. I love before/after things so I thought it might be fun to put some work in progress pictures in there too.

It's funny because while I'm drawing I always make up several stories or some dialogue that goes with the drawing. It fascinates me to see how everyone notices different things and imagines different stories though, so feedback is always appreciated!

beginnings

Photoshop magic...not sure about the background though!
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He Just Hoped They Knew

2009-02-21T00:21:12Z

Just a little thing I came up with an hour ago and needed to write. Not beta'd and English is not my mothertongue so all mistakes are mine. I love spelling nazi's though, so feel free to nitpick on that!

Characters: Michael, mentions of Linoln, Sara, LJ and Sucre.
Genre: Drama
Rating: Pg
Length: 227 words
Summary: My take on Michael's last thoughts as he went down in 4.14 Just Business. So vague spoilers for that episode.

He thought he was dying. As he saw the world literally spinning on its axis and felt the electricity in his head short circuiting he knew he was going to die. Right there in an alley he didn’t even know the name of. Right there amidst the trash and next to a rusted fence with crooked bars. Right there with Scylla finally in his possession.

And it was all his fault.

He needed to bring down the company, needed to be part of the operation, needed to ignore his ailing health and concerned loved ones one- just one- day longer. He needed the carbamazepine.

Or maybe all he had needed was common sense.

Insight always came to him only at the point of no return, and thus it was only now that he finally understood. Because it wasn’t the inevitable loss of Scylla that was on his mind those last moments his heavy head allowed him consciousness. It was an embarrassed smile on Sara’s face, his brother’s hand on his shoulder, Sucre saying papi and the hopeful face of his nephew. And he felt so, so sorry he let them down, shut them out, lied to them and worst of all…would never get a chance to tell them any of that.

As he was lifted from the ground by villainous arms he just hoped that they knew.

I've been drawing..

2008-11-08T16:24:39Z

Made this little drawing with ballpoint pen , Photoshop and...well, I hope the drawing speaks for itself! I made another version too (just with one little detail changed) and decided to post that one too because I couldn't choose which one I liked best. Anyways, the original, a bigger and another version below the cut.

I would really love to hear your thoughts.


.

I just love engineer/ nerd Michael!

A fic!

2008-10-02T21:22:49Z

I never thought I'd write again, or like Prison Break as much as I used to again, but they've brought back character development and bonding time so I wrote again! This is a really fluffy, schmushy ...maybe even cheesy piece for me though. The rest of my fics nearly all include death and angst. Well, hope you enjoy anyway!

Title: Kids
Author: girlfromworld
Characters: Sara Tancredi, Michael Scofield, mentions of Lincoln, Sophia, LJ, Sucre, Maricruz and nurse Katie.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None really.
Summary: Sara finds herself having a hard time trying to get Michael to discuss a certain subject with her.
Notes: This has only been read by me, who isn't a native English speaker, so please point out any mistakes!

Sara peaked over her magazine to look at Michael, sitting on the couch by the window with the laptop on his lap, fully concentrated... as usual. Little had she known about his passion for engineering and architecture when they first met. To be honest, she used to think he'd chosen engineering just because it was good money and would impress people. She knew a lot of guys like that back in the day. They were always either like that or well...nerds. And for reasons now unknown to her she didn't picture him as a nerd back then. She blamed the tattoo and prison blues. Not a lot of nerds in Fox River. So a money hungry yup it was. That was at the absolute beginning though. The "maybe we met before, drunk, out in a bar somewhere" days. After that she didn't really have time to think about anything but surviving or how to bring down the Company, and maybe just one to twice about her hair color. But now that was all behind them, and since they had moved in together more than a year ago- really moved in together, no brothers, ex-cons or feds around- she had discovered so many things about him. Like the childlike enthusiasm that replaced the ever present Michael frown as soon as anything related to engineering was mentioned. Which was really the only reason why she accepted, most of the time anyway, that nearly half of their money or at least half of Michael's time went to computer programs with names like Risa 3D Structural Analysis and STAAD Foundation. However, unlike Michael, she found herself having trouble focussing on anything at the moment. Ever since their guests- Lincoln, Sophia and Fernando and Maricruz- had left after dinner, something had been on her mind. And she was going to have to interrupt the intense bubble of concentration Michael was currently in to talk about it.

"Everyone seems to be having kids these days, don't they?" Silence. "Michael?"

"What was that?"

"I was just saying how it seems like everyone's having kids these days."

Michael wondered for a moment who everyone was supposed to be referring to and how she arrived at this topic -the magazine maybe? What was she reading again? Some sort of new medical research article? "What does it say then?"

"What does what say?"

"The magazine you're reading. Is there a new babyboom or something?"

"The magazine doesn't say anything Michael, I'm saying it." She was reading a decorating magazine, for Christ's sake. That famous Scofield attention to detail just came and went whenever he needed, didn't it. She sighed. "I mean the people around us. Lincoln and Sophia, Fernando and Maricruz..."

"As far as I know just them. Plus Linc already had LJ so technically.."

"And Katie and that new collegue I told you about," she cut him off. "It's just funny, that's all. You know, all our friends having kids."

Michael was a bit unsure of what she wanted him to say so he just nodded and continued with his foundation analysis of the new research facility for a foreign university. He really had to get this at least halfway done before tomorrow and consequently wasn't really in the mood for smalltalk about friends and family.

Sara sat and wait. Michael's eyes stayed glued to that damned computer screen, and she got ever so slightly annoyed by his supposed ignorance of what she was trying to say. Was he playing dumb? "What do you think, Michael?"

A sigh. "I er, yeah I'm happy for them of course."

Okay. Now she was annoyed.

Michael looked up questoningly from his computer screen for a few seconds to find Sara watching him intently. Was she annoyed with him? What the hell did he do wrong? She knew this needed to get done before tomorrow. He told her. He tried to give her an assuring smile and continued with the analysis.

Oh my god, did he just tried to smile his way out of this? "Michael."

He looked up at her again, and she recognized the look he gave her. Like he was begging for her mercy, at least until he finished whatever it was he was doing. She wouldn't give it. She was beyond done with the Scofield topic avoidance tactics.

Silence. More silence.

"Un fucking believable Michael!"

Michael looked at her as if she was talking foreign, and she started to wonder if she even wanted to discuss this topic with him. But then he got that wouned puppy look on his face again, and it occured to her that maybe, maybe he really didn't know what she was getting at. Maybe Michael Jeffrey Scofield, creative genius and world savior, was like any other man when it came down to some things. Maybe even worse. Probably worse. For reasons she couldn't quite grasp her heart suddenly constricted with love and she put her magazine down and sat down next to him. He looked at her, still questoningly, and she put his laptop aside and settled in the crook of his arm, putting her head on his shoulder. He carefully reached for a strand of her hair and put it behind her ear. She closed her eyes for a second and breathed in his touch, his warmth. Then she sat up and looked him in the eyes.

"I was wondering, Michael, if you ever think about kids? Wait, before you...About having kids."

"I...do you?"

"Michael."

"Sometimes."

She wanted to jump up in joy and raise a flag of victory but instead she didn't move and calmly encouraged him to continue talking.

"I don't think everybody's meant to have children."

Sara's eyes grew wide and suddenly she wished she never mentioned the subject. Suddenly she was afraid. She swallowed unexpected, upcoming tears and tried to control her voice. "Michael, I...I know I made mistakes, but the addictions are in he past. I would never..."

"Sara, I didn't mean...I have no doubt you'll make a great mother."

Then realisation hit her. "And you'll be a great father, Michael." He looked away and she took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. "You will. Why would you doubt that?"

"It's just that..." He sat up, folded his hands together in that all too familiar way and stared at the ground, avoiding her gaze again. "You read these stories, how people that have been...How some people that haven't been ...treated well as kids, that have been... abused or... How they have trouble loving their, how they get bitter or depressed or mistreat their own children. It's just...I don't....I think that children should be raised in a loving and stable environment, you know. You have to be able to absolutely guarantee that. I just don't..."

Sara put her hand on his, stopping his fidgeting. Then she looked him in the eyes. "Michael, listen to me. You will never be bitter, or abusive or anything else like that, okay? God, I mean, after everything we've been through don't you think you would be those things by now if you had them in you? You were always the one talking about optimism, hope and faith, rememeber? Even when I had none left."

He stayed silent and looked away again.

"Michael?"

"You just never know. I don't think these people knew.."

"Yes Michael, you can. I can. I do. There's not even a little part of me that believes that you'll be capable of anything like that. You're not Michael, and I can't believe...I can't believe you can't see that."

"It's not that I think I will, Sara, but ...what if I do want to? What if there's this dark space.."

"No, Michael, I know you, and it hurts me that you think like this about yourself. Okay? Come here." He leaned back again until she cradled his head in her lap, running her fingers over his short hair. They lay like that in silence for what seemed like hours, until he suddenly spoke up.

"I've always liked the name George."

She let out a small laugh. "George? Really? Not for my baby, Scofield."

"What's wrong with George?"

"Nothing, it's just so...civillian."

"Well, then what do you suggest, Miss Tancredi?"

She looked up and smiled. "I don't know. Something more exotic. Maybe Naima."

"But it's going to be a boy, you know that right?"

"You don't know that."

He looked up at her with a mischievous grin. "I do, actually. The man determines gender, you should know that, doctor Tancredi."

"Oh yeah?" she replied playfully, catching his drift. "And how do you intend on doing that?"

"Well, you see, the act of making babies starts with a kiss..."

------

Would love to hear your thoughts! Really, share 'm!

Drawing

2008-05-01T15:32:37Z

Made this drawing with ballpoint pen some time ago and colored it today with Photoshop CS. Thought you PBfans might like to see it.

Based on a picture from Izzy & Denny (Grey's Anatomy). Full size and original under the cut.

Feedback or other comments are always warmly welcomed =)

Michael according to the World

2008-03-25T23:50:22Z

Prison Break
Title: Michael according to the World
Characters: Michael, Linc, Sara, Abruzzi, Bellick, Sucre, Pope...I think I may just have everyone covered here except for season 3 folks. And Kellerman.
Category: Character Study, kid!fic (partly), also pretty much AU from the end of season 1
Rating: There's a bad word, so that makes it PG-13?
Warnings: None
Summary: Points of view on Michael from everyone from schoolteachers to Fox River inmates.
Spoilers: None

To avoid confusion: Every paragraph has a different person's POV, hope you can make out who belongs to which!

The little human being growing in your belly.

The completion of the normal family you've always longed for.

A brother or sister you could play with.

The baby you would never hold. The toddler you would never learn how to walk. Your son, that you would leave fatherless.

The smart, enthusiastic boy in front of the class, that always drew strangely detailed pictures.

Lincoln’s little brother, to whom you should always be nice.

Your youngest son, who somehow made people feel the need to ask you if you'd ever considered taking him to a child psychologist, since he was so smart. You'd answer it would be more useful to take dumb people there, there seemed to be so many.

One of the two cute, dark haired brothers who always came visiting their mom, your patient, at the hospital after school. They had such good faith in their mom recovering that you just couldn’t tell them what deep down you knew was the truth until the very last moment.

The little boy that barely came out above his kart when he came doing groceries all by himself every Saturday.

Your grandson, who you saw for the first and last time in a church in Berwyn. He didn’t know who you were, but you knew who he was a soon as you saw those big, oh so familiar eyes. They made you cry a lifetime worth of tears while you went back to where your daughter would now never be anymore.

One of the many children you’d gotten to know while you were working for Social Services in Chicago. You’d tried to keep him and his bother together, but in the end the older one made that impossible.

Another fucking foster kid you took in your house that didn’t show even a bit of gratefulness. And there was only one way to teach a boy gratefulness.

The smart boy in the back of the class who, even though your colleagues told you otherwise, was awfully quiet and withdrawn.

Your ex-boyfriend’s little brother, of who he wanted to take care while there wasn’t even enough room for the baby.

The teenager you and your husband took in home after you’d lost Frankie. He reminded you so much of him. But in the end you realised that it wasn’t him, and you knew had to send him back.

The brilliant senior student in your math class where you heard all kinds of stuff about. You knew three things for certain, though: His older brother showed up at parent evenings, at Wednesdays he left school early for appointments with a “doctor” and he used kindness and politeness as a means to keep his distance.

A memorable civil engineering student of who you continuously wondered why he wasn’t at Harvard or Yale.

Your somewhat mysterious roommate. You had lived with him for over years but only found out that he had no parents when you asked him where they were at graduation day.

Your way cool uncle, who always took you to the movies or museums if your dad was “on a short vacation.”

Your newest colleague at Middleton, Maxwell and Schaum, who you openly found way too young for his function but who you secretly envied for his talent.

One of the guys of the architect firm that regularly came to the bar you worked at at the time. They always came together but you remembered several occasions where he left earlier than the rest for vague reasons. But always after a phone call.

The guy at the office whose brother, according to your friend, was the guy that killed the vice president’s brother.

The snobby con you knew you would hate the moment he entered your vision, because he made you realise that you’d rather spend 5 years in prison being him, than 5 years with your mom being yourself.

The fish in gen pop you thought was gonna kick the bucket before the end of the first week, that in some mysterious way became the leader of this PI crew with guys like Abruzzi and T-Bag.

Your papi, your crazy papi.

The man that betrayed your trust and therefore you were sure of you should never forgive. Until your wife pointed out to you that you betrayed her trust once too, or was he implying that that was not as bad, Henry?

The man that changed your life completely and deliberately by asking to wait for him. The one that once brought storm and rain to your world but was now the quiet centre of it.

The geek kid that always played with your dinosaurs, the rebelling little shit who you had to beat some sense in, the patronizing yup that constantly gave you a hard time, the crazy genius, the saviour, the hero, but most of all: Your little brother.

------------------------

If you read this and thought anything about it, positive or negative, or if you have advice, I'd love to know!

Loss

2008-03-25T15:11:57Z

Prison Break
Title: Loss
Characters: Lincoln, Michael, LJ, Sara, Veronica, OC & mentions of a lot of other characters
Category: Tragedy
Rating: G
Warnings: Character Death
Summary: Takes place sometime after season 2, but season 3 never happened.
Spoilers: None

This wasn’t grief, this was the absolute bottom of desperation. This was a hole being opened in his soul, or maybe it had began to open for a while now. This was falling into to that hole and not knowing where to reach to stop it. This was a feeling coming from so deep, time must have stopped for just a few seconds. This was injustice. Injustice, in the most meaningful way of the word. This could not be happening. This was God personally taking it out on him. This was the very final straw. This broke him.

Just a few hours ago. A few hours ago the whole world was different, it was autumn ready to turn into spring. Everything would be alright. Although that sentence had become meaningless to him, it always being said when things were so hopeless it had to be spoken to give it any existence in reality. But he knew this time the words were true. He had felt something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. Hope, faith, thinking about the future as something different then making it till tomorrow. He allowed himself to wish and to dream again. He allowed himself to let go of taking into account what could go wrong. For the first time in his entire life pessimism was leaving it’s shadow over his thoughts. He felt the beginning of something. Happiness. LJ was by his side, Michael was by his side, and he knew they shared the sensation. He suddenly felt a wave of overwhelming happiness coming up that had been repressed with anger and fear for so long. Everything would be over in a few hours.

“Burrows & Scofield Diving inc,” he said softly.

“Well, since we’re not forced to go to Panama now, I thought construction would be more our thing.”

“Burrows & Scofield construction inc.”

Michael looked him in the eyes for a few seconds and then turned away again. “Maybe just Burrows. I am a Burrows, after all.”

“Maybe just LJ, you mean,” LJ interrupted. “All people name their companies after their kids you know.” LJ looked at his father, grinned and then turned to Michael. “My dad’s totally planning to do the same.”

Michael chuckled. “Well, as far as I know Bill Gates doesn’t have any children named Microsoft.”

“Yeah but what do you know.”

Michael playfully punched LJ and they laughed. They laughed like normal people laughed and Lincoln tried to take the moment in as completely as he could. Everything. The serene room with it’s expensive furniture and the large window. The breathtaking view of Chicago, moments before sunset. The people surrounding them. Lawyers, politicians, accountants, agents…people he didn’t know but who all had contributed to this moment. The near whispered conversations that, together with the regular ticking of the clock, provided the only sound. The stillness. The sense of relieve and quiet excitement present in the entire room and everyone in it. Michael, wearing a neat suit, looking smart and satisfied, but without the cocky façade that used to accustom his suits. Michael, stripped from plans and secrets and masks. Just his younger brother. LJ in his ridiculously expensive outfit, bought on credit, knowing that in a few hours they’d never have to worry about finances again. LJ, who had grown up in a matter of months. And as he watched the two of them, his brother and his son, he knew that no matter what would happen, as long as they were along for the ride everything woud be all right.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened and another man entered the room. This man he did know, however. It was one of their lawyers. Mr. Lyman Neill. They had a whole team of lawyers behind them but this was the one that provided the communication between them and made sure nothing happened without mutual agreement.

“Lincoln, Michael, LJ, just wanted to let you know that everything has been arranged.” He gave them an assuring smile followed by a more serious look. “Within a few minutes we’re going to the ground level and step outside. As you may have expected there will be press from all over the world waiting for you, as well as an immense mass of people who have a strong opinion regarding your case, either negative or positive. I’ve said this before but it’s best if you just don’t address them or make statements at this time.”

“We weren’t planning to,” Lincoln interrupted. “We’re not planning to turn this into a media circus.”

“All due respect, Mr. Burrows, but I think that choice has already been made for you. And it won’t matter how many footage of you they’ll have, they’ll get their story anyway. But that’s not the reason why I don’t want you to address the press. You have to understand, a lot of people in high positions have been pissed off by this and you have gained enemies you haven’t even heard of. It’s just best for everyone’s safety to keep low profile and refrain from public appearances. At least for now.”

A few moments of silence passed between all of them, again realising the magnitude and importance of what they had done, and a small jolt of sorrow and fear shot through Lincoln.

“But that will all pass within a couple of weeks,” their lawyer continued. “After that I’d say you’ll be free to visit Oprah, write biographies and get yourself on the cover of Time Magazine.”

And as sudden as the fear had risen it had disappeared, helped by the light hearted remark of their lawyer and Lincoln’s blind trust in him. Because they could trust him. He had made this all possible for them.

The whispered conversations in the room turned into complete silence when yet another man entered. “It’s time.”

Lincoln couldn’t help but think about the other time those exact words were spoken to him. Right before his planned execution. “It’s time” had meant death back then, but now it meant life, freedom. Happiness. Back then Correctional Officers had walked with him for the safety of others. Now Security Guards were walking with him for the safety of himself. The irony of it all almost made him think that there was someone up there, playing them like puppets and smirking about an inside joke he would probably never get.

They got into the elevator. He didn’t know whether it was the claustrophobic aspect of the elevator itself or the fact that they were getting closer to a moment they had waited for so long, but he felt himself getting nervous. He glanced over at Michael, who was readjusting his tie for the tenth time, and concluded he wasn’t the only one.

“Can’t believe it’s all gonna be over,” Lincoln sighed. “I mean, what do we do? I kind of got used to running from authorities and all that.”

“We’ve got Burrows & Scofield construction,” Michael answered softly. He paused for a moment and then added: “And we have to reproduce. You know, for the family company.”

Lincoln laughed quietly and felt his nervousness fade away. “Reproduce, Michael? For the family company? Man, you really don’t need an excuse for wanting to get laid.”

Michael looked down and a small smile formed on his lips.

“Especially since time is ticking, Mike. Thirty-three is coming, before you know it you’ll be forty and you end up a lonely geek with your little models and blueprints.”

Though the security guards’ faces remained robotically serious Lincoln felt so good. Like they were normal people with a future. They did have a future. And he was sure they were going to be normal. They were going to live in the suburbs and get a white picked fence and a dog and a boring job. They were going to be so normal it was going kill their brain activity. And he looked forward to it. Michael was going to marry the doc and make him uncle of a lot of babies and LJ was going to college, take over their company and make him grandpa of even more babies. And he was just going to sit back and enjoy it, and maybe get a girlfriend himself along the way. He wasn’t sure though. He wasn’t sure if there would be anyone else for him. Veronica had always been the one.

When they reached the seventh floor a silence took over the elevator. The calm before the storm. Michael readjusted his tie once more. The security guards their earphones. Everyone stared at the little spot next to the elevator doors where digital numbers showed which floor they had reached. The second now. As they approached the ground level Lincoln could already hear the distant noises of the storm. People. Lots of people

Then the doors opened.

Within a second the noise turned from distant to loud and overwhelming. Through the glass doors of the lobby he could see the agitated crowd, standing behind steel fences and held there by lots of security people. If there had also been a red carpet he would’ve thought he was Elvis himself.

“Do not make eye contact with anybody and just stay behind us,” on of the security guards demanded as they started walking through the immense lobby of the building. Marble pillars, three receptions, he hadn’t really noticed any of it when they had entered the building. There were not a lot of people though. But the ones that were there all stared at him and Michael. Watching the faces they had seen on the news so many times walking and breathing in their lobby.

And then something happened he could never have imagined. They started clapping. Quietly and respectful, not accompanied by any excitement or cheering. All these successful, most likely intelligent individuals were clapping. Clapping for two ex-cons. He didn’t really know why. Perhaps for bringing the betrayals of the White House to the light. Perhaps for surviving a government conspiracy. Or maybe just for no other reason than that they were walking through their lobby. He didn’t know, but it certainly strengthened the strange feeling he had inside. A feeling he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Glory, maybe. They may have had the most dysfunctional idea of love Vee had ever seen and they may have made the most illogical decisions the world had ever seen, but right now there were people clapping for them. He turned to look at Michael, walking behind him with the same amazed look on his face, and he smiled. They made it.

The glass doors were opened and as soon as they stepped outside the already loud crowd got even louder. So many things were screamed he could hardly hear a world.

…where the infamous brothers Michael Scofield and Lincoln Burrows… negotiations with the White House have made… After one of the largest trials…on the run for nearly two months…government conspiracy surrounding…broke out of Fox River State Penitentiary…former president Caroline Reynolds…are being officially exonerated

People with cameras and microphones were desperately trying to get close to them, hundreds of questions were thrown in their direction, and he almost got blinded by the sudden wave of flashlights.

And then it all stopped. Just for a millisecond. Just for a millisecond everything turned quiet and motionless. One millisecond of complete silence and shock. In just a millisecond his world changed and a thousand thoughts shot through his head and stumbled over each other. What is? Where? How did? Please God. No. And then everything turned into chaos.

Michael.

He knew it was Michael, and he felt his heart sink to his feet as he turned around and saw his hopes for being wrong torn apart and stomped into the ground. He got completely unaware of everything around him and stormed through everyone blocking his way until he was on his knees next to his brother, screaming. Screaming at God, screaming at the security guards, screaming at everyone who should’ve been bleeding from a gunshot instead of his brother.

“Michael!?”

A cough of blood.

“Michael!”

“Sir? You need to move away, sir.”

“Michael, goddamnit!”

“Linc.”

“Sir, we really need you to move away.”

“Mikey, it’s gonna be okay, allright? Have a little faith. Just...”

“Sir, you have to..”

“I’ll move you away if you don’t get off my fucking back!”

“Lincoln, they’re trying to save him!” His lawyer. “Lincoln! Lincoln, let them do their jobs.”

He let the medics near him but stayed next to his little brother, laying on the ground, trembling, his pristine white shirt now covered in blood. Panic had taken over the crowd but for Lincoln the world had stopped turning and turned still.

You can’t die right now. That’s ridiculous.

“Somebody check his pulse!”

Burrows & Scofield Construction inc.

“He’s losing too much blood!”

You’re still twenty five to me, you’re not even married yet.

“Where the hell is that trauma helicopter?!”

I want you to have babies with the doc. You need to know all that. You need to know what’s happiness.

We’re losing him!”

Just have a little faith. Have a little faith.

“We’re losing him!”

“Linc. Don’t lose faith.”

~*~

A month later

“We are gathered here today to stand still for a moment, to stand still by events that have recently occurred in this country, this world. Events that were tragic, shocking and without a doubt are a black page in American history. But also events that compelled us to redefine our answers to the questions: What is justice? What is the role of our government in that process? Is our government functioning properly? Should it be allowed to know things unknown to others? Should it have the right to secrecy? Let us at least learn from these past events and do everything in our power to prevent them from happening again. Let there at least be an valuable end for these horrible means. Let it not have been in vain. But, most and foremost, ladies and gentleman, let us honour those who gave their lives in the persuasion of freedom, truth and justice. They were heroes of our time, and shall never be forgotten.

Bishop McMorrow, December1936 – April 2004

Leticia Barris, May 1976 – April 2005

Adrian Rix, April 1970- May 2005

Lisa Rix, February 1972 – May 2005

Secret Service Agent Daniel Hale, October 1966 – May 2005

Nick Savrinn, June 1967- May 2005

Veronica Donovan, August 1971 – June 2005

Governor Frank Tancredi, September 1947 – June 2005

Aldo Burrows, March 1944 – June 2005

Secret Service Agent Paul Kellerman, March 1966 – July 2005

Michael J. Scofield, September 1973 – October 2005

-------------------------------------------

The main purpose of this for me was to try and put down the feeling of absolute heartbreak and desparation when you lose someone you love. So really the first paragraph, the rest sprt of spurred out from that. I'm not sure what to think of this though, it might be too...much? A bit melodramatic? I'd really appreciate to hear your thoughts on this!

Where It Comes Down To

2008-03-25T11:03:50Z

Prison Break
Title: Where it comes down to
Characters: Lincoln, Michael
Category: Character study and kidfic I suppose
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: When it comes down to it, they're not that different after all.
Spoilers: None

Lincoln crashes his toy cars over and over, testing their strength- and his- until there’s nothing left of them than loose pieces. Then he looks up to his mom, innocent faced but with a shimmer in his eyes that reveals he’s suppressing a smile.

Michael doesn’t crash his cars. He looks at them. He looks at them from every angle, puts them on top of each other in every possible way and then takes them apart. The wheels go off of the one car and onto another until they’re completely broken down. He then looks at his mom, puzzled. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that.

~~~

It’s crowded and dark, but Lincoln doesn’t need light to recognize the faces. Most of them he only knows by night. He knows their names and who they are, by night. He hasn’t got a clue who they turn into when the sun comes up. Doesn’t matter either. He knows what he needs to know to have fun with them and they know what they need to know to have fun with him. And when to leave him alone. Which definitely is now.

He deserves another one, more than one. Hell, he deserves at least a hundred. One for getting fired. One for always getting bosses that are complete assholes. One for having a little shithead brother that doesn’t understand that. One for ending up in a fight last week, one for probably ending in one tonight. One for Lisa not letting him see his son this weekend. And the remainder for the fact that his son doesn’t really seem to mind. Or maybe just all of them because his son’s right. Lisa’s right. His brother’s right. And he knows it. But he doesn’t want to know right now.

“I’ll have another beer, please.”

Eleven p.m. Michael’s sitting behind his desk, surrounded by blueprints, pictures and files that dictate statements from architects. Occupying his mind with mathematical equations and structural problems. Solving them. Entirely concentrated, preventing thoughts about problems that have nothing to do with math from finding their way to his conscience. Problems he just doesn’t know how to solve.

It’s called a business dinner. It’s wearing Armani suits and silk ties and about 1 hour of conversation that actually involves business. It’s being the person that the person with the fanciest business card wants you to be. It ends up at the bar. Always. His associates laugh, he smiles. He knows very well how to act like them, but never how to be like them. There’s always something, swimming in his mind, twisting his stomach. There’s his brother, never getting his life together. There’s foster care children, who he can never do enough for. There’s his nephew. There’s his past. And today there was his girlfriend, ex-girlfriend, most beautiful girl in the world Yorlenis Mayela Juarez, moving back to her family in Mexico. Leaving.

His associates consume another Johnnie Walker, reminiscing their student time, celebrating their success. He consumes the last one though, alone in his apartment, until the only problem occupying his mind is how to get to bed without falling over first.

~~~

You’re never there anyway.

What the hell was he thinking? He was not his father, or his mother. He wasn’t a parent. And hadn’t had one long enough to know how to act like one. He couldn’t be expected to be one, either. He was only twenty himself. And he did what he could. The bills got paid every month, well usually anyway. And no, the money didn’t always from the monthly pay check, but it wasn’t like he had a choice. The pay checks weren’t anywhere near enough to cover everything. And yeah, he went out at night and got drunk or stoned sometimes, but he was allowed to have some fun once in a while too, right?

It was right. It was all right. But it didn’t take anything away from the rightness of Michael’s you’re never there anyway. Because he was never there. And paper birds weren’t enough. But he had found a way to make up for it. All of it.

Because paper came in other forms than just origami birds.

He never believed that climbing the mountain brought more happiness than the view from the top. He had fallen so often and so hard he thought whoever made that statement probably had had an easy walk. But now he wasn't so sure anymore. Because here he was, at the point he had always thought would be the top. Living the successful life he had thought he wanted so badly as a boy. Wearing expensive suits, being one of the best in his field of work, living in an apartment building he had imagined the inside of so many times when living everywhere in Chicago but there.

And yet there still wasn’t the thing he had really been looking for all this time: Happiness. There were expensive couches, design coffee tables, sophisticated art pieces but all he could really care for was a photo album his mother had made, a drawing by his nephew, Veronica’s graduation pictures and an origami crane. A crane he had recently kept somewhere in a drawer and never looked back on. A crane that had all of a sudden become such a painful reminder of who he had wanted to make proud all of his life. Who had been there always. Who was the only one that would ever be his brother and love him unconditionally.

The only one he just really couldn’t live without. Wouldn’t live without.

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If you thought anything of this, please share your thoughts!

False Memories

2008-03-24T23:35:18Z

Prison Break
Title: False Memories
Characters: Lincoln, Michael, LJ. Michael/Sara if you look for it.
Category: Tragedy
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character death
Summary: Not good at those, I always accidentaly tell about the ending, and that would ruin this so...
Spoilers: None really, unless you're anaware of what the premise of season 3 was.

False Memories

He knocks on their door, already hearing distant high kid voices and a low, muffled reply to them. He cherishes it. He believes that he is only person in the world who appreciates the normalcy that describes his life now this much. He must be. After everything that happened the past years, gratefulness for even the smallest things comes naturally. It’s some sort of ever present fog in his mind, clouding all his sensations. He hears little footsteps nearing the door and when it gets opened, the first thing he sees is his baby niece puking over his brother. He smiles. Good times. Before he can walk in, the little boy that opened the door is trying to climb on him, while simultaneously telling him about something of which he can only really make out the words dinosaur and TV. Meanwhile his brother cracks a clumsy smile and hands over his baby girl to his wife. “No hugs for you then, pops” he tells his brother, pointing at the now babypuke covered shirt. It’s still a little unnatural for him to see his little brother with his own kids. It’s not that he isn’t good with them, he is. He was always good with LJ too, and back then he was still a kid himself. It’s probably just the whole picture. Not too long ago he had feared for his brother. Feared that he just wouldn’t make it, despite his brother’s and his own attempts. There had been some really dark periods. He had feared that he just wouldn’t ever be able to be happy. That the Panamanian prison had been just that one thing too much. But here he was, finally experiencing the things Lincoln had always prayed his brother- his damaged, young brother- would get to experience too. Fatherhood, a good woman, marriage, puking kids, happiness, crying babies, fights over forgotten groceries, love, peace…

He is dragged back to the present as the little boy attempting to climb up on him is near pulling his pants down. So he lifts the boy up and sits down with him on the nearby sofa. While the boy makes himself comfortable in his lap, Lincoln eavesdrops on his brother and his wife quarrelling. “That shirt just came out of the laundry.” “I told you you shouldn’t be that wild with her.” “It doesn’t matter what you and Linc did as kids, she is a girl, Michael” “Just take the blue shirt that’s in the bedroom”

A while later they’re sitting in front of him happy and loving though. His brother talking to him while kicking away the ball that his son throws at him continuously. His wife giving him loving looks as he talks, which he misses, but Lincoln doesn’t. And he again can’t help but think that this is what he deserves, what he has always deserved. A loving family and everything that goes with it. And he’s so glad that there are little Michaels now. Little ones with big blue eyes and an annoying pout when things don’t go their way.

It was really the least he deserved, with having already lived through the pain and suffering not even a 80 year old has at just 33.

It’s what he deserved but never got.

So instead Lincoln places an origami crane on his little brother’s grave, and walks away with his son, just a few years younger than his brother would ever be, leaving memories of things that never happened with the small paper crane on that little piece of earth

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This is the first fic I ever posted so I feel like a teenager on her first day of her first job. That's right, I'm kindly asking for feedback !

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