bigdan
“I Don’t Have a Few Years…”
C-Note rules!!
Posts: 139
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Post by bigdan on Apr 15, 2007 17:56:20 GMT 1
Go C-Note! Go C-Note! Go C-Note! Go C-Note!!!!
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Post by Audio Pineapple on Apr 15, 2007 19:33:41 GMT 1
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daisyp
Pleading Guilty
Posts: 392
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Post by daisyp on Apr 15, 2007 21:59:58 GMT 1
Good one. just a small thought though which I hope you won't take too critically - doesn't mariCruz usually call Sucre Fernando. Oh off to watch Lost!
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Post by Audio Pineapple on Apr 15, 2007 23:16:28 GMT 1
Good one. just a small thought though which I hope you won't take too critically - doesn't mariCruz usually call Sucre Fernando. Oh off to watch Lost! Nah I love indepth reviews and critique. And d'oh I forgot about that! |
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Post by Audio Pineapple on Apr 18, 2007 11:28:09 GMT 1
Chapter Nine
“It’s all your fault Fish.”
Michael looked behind him, not having expected to see C-Note there. He searched his mind, frightened by the fury plastered across C-Note’s face, to find something to stall him long enough to alert the guards to the impending danger. “What’s my fault?”
“You messed up the plan, you got me caught and, because of you, my daughter won’t even be a teenager by the time I get out of here! My wife ain’t even talking to me man!”
“I’m sorry.”
A punch into the gut caught Michael off-guard, making him double over, even though he was sure that C-Note could have made it hurt a lot more, “sorry doesn’t put my family back together now does it?”
“I did all that I could…”
“You could have moved faster!” Michael made the mistake of trying to straighten up, only to instantly receive another punch.
“I couldn’t, I did all that I could do, it’s not my fault that someone found out. It’s the snitch you need to attack, not me,” he braced himself for another punch but it didn’t arrive.
“And how do I know you didn’t tell him?”
“Think about it, this was my only chance to save Lincoln. Why would I mess it up?”
C-Note let out a noise that Michael couldn’t quite distinguish between a grunt and a growl and he suddenly realised that telling him to think might not have been the best idea. He suddenly found himself straightened, a vice like grip on his shoulder.
“Just remember Fish, if I don’t find the rat I’m coming after you and from the looks of what happened yesterday,” he let out a hollow laugh and Michael refocused his efforts on trying not to shake, “the guards won’t really care.”
C-Note pulled away and Michael looked around the yard, feeling paranoid that everyone would have been staring at him but, in reality, very few people had been. Someone he hadn’t expected to, however, was.
“Abruzzi wants to see you,” Michael felt his shoulder gripped again as he was half pushed and half dragged over to Abruzzi’s table.
“I’m sorry,” he uttered the phrase before anyone else had a chance to talk, hoping that it would help, even though it never seemed to be working.
“Ahh don’t be sorry,” Abruzzi smirked, not looking up from the card game he was engrossed in, “it wasn’t you who told Bellick, it’s just one of those things that happen. The good news is that I know who it was.”
Michael felt his spirits lift the slightest amount, this wasn’t going to fix anything in the past but it could help him with the future. “Who was it?”
“Fellow named Gregory Jones, one of the whores in the purity gang.” Michael risked a glance to the bleachers, seeing a couple of the members staring back at him and he looked away, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks from their leering. “He’s the one with the scruffy black hair, slim and short, good cheekbones so I’m told…”
“And good throat muscles apparently.” The gaggle of players laughed at their own joke.
“Not that I take any notice of those kinds of things. But you’ve got a chance to redeem yourself Michael, you can get your life back and all you have to do is make sure that he loses his.”
“You want me to kill him?” One of Abruzzi’s cohorts pushed a shank into Michael’s hand and he automatically closed his hand over it, trying to hide it from view.
“Exactly, and if you don’t then we really know which side you’re on.” A dismissive hand gesture sent Michael away, now unable to look away from the bleachers, worried about how he was going to save both Gregory Jones and himself.
*****
T-Bag hummed lightly to himself, the familiar tune of Swing Low Sweet Chariot passing through his lips as he twirled his fingers through Jones’ hair before resuming the stroking motion.
He’d started it ten minutes earlier, sitting down without explanation and playing with the hair, a move that was indistinguishable between being caring and being violating but that was how he wanted it to be. He wanted to confuse Jones, make him feel safe and wanted and as if he could be anything worth remembering a week later.
“Sa…Sammy won’t like this,” Jones spoke the words softly but the fear was still easily detectable.
“Sammy knows that you belong to me first and him second,” T-Bag knew that nobody would mind sharing now that he was fully back in the group but the use of Anderson’s first name, and the gentle version as well, was endearing. It reminded him of Maytag when he had referred to him as Teddy out of earshot of the other inmates. He gently tugged on the roots of the hair, “you didn’t say Mr Bagwell at the end of your sentence.”
“I’m sorry!” Jones began to become distressed, “I’m so sorry Mr Bagwell,” T-Bag had to suppress a giggle, the boy was almost forgetting to breath he was so panicked. He stopped pulling and let his hand trail down Jones’ cheek, his mind clocking the good bone structure before tilting Jones’ chin up, managing to capture a slow kiss, forcing himself to keep it delicate and to not move his tongue past the younger man’s lips.
“Don’t worry about it, everyone makes mistakes sometimes.” He kept a hand on the chin so that he could whisper, “we’ll just forget about it, okay?” He let go and Jones nodded, the thankfulness obnoxiously clear in his eyes which looked almost teary.
“Thank you Mr Bagwell.” Jones’ automatically leant his head against T-Bag’s side again, waiting for the hair stroking to resume, which it did one moment later.
T-Bag smiled lightly to himself, Jones would probably be more of a treasure than he’d banked on.
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Post by soulonfire on Apr 18, 2007 21:14:06 GMT 1
Oooh!Lots going on in this chapter!
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Post by Audio Pineapple on Apr 18, 2007 21:21:54 GMT 1
And is that good or bad then peanut?  |
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Post by Audio Pineapple on Apr 22, 2007 15:52:49 GMT 1
Chapter 10
“Someone’s watching you T,” T-Bag stopped playing with the hair and he smirked when he saw Greg straighten up, obviously embarrassed. He looked to where Anderson was pointing and saw Michael gazing intently over at them.
“He’s not watching me, he’s watching Jones,” he stood up, leaving the group without explanation and walked over to Michael, taking the long way around the yard so that he was able to sneak up behind him. Placing an arm around his waste he felt Michael tighten unbelievably.
“You like him? You can buy him if you want, we’d just have to hatch out a payment plan,” he leaned closer to Michael, letting his tongue flicker onto his neck with each eloquently spoken word and he managed to hide his amusement when Michael shimmied out of his grip.
“I just want to talk to him.”
“What about?” He watched Michael closely, knowing that he was debating within himself whether he should say or not and T-Bag found himself wondering how long it would be before Michael’s body became accustomed to the thread and calmed down.
“No reason.”
“No reason; no conversation.”
“Was the ra…” Michael cleared his voice self-consciously, “was the attack really about Maytag?”
“No; I was kicked out of the group and the only way to win them over was to claim you. But my rule still stands; no reason, no conversation so you can stop trying to change the subject.”
“Did you tell him about the escape?”
T-Bag laughed harshly, “I didn’t even know that the runt existed until yesterday. And I’m not stupid enough to tell anybody,” he felt his stomach clench through the lie, he hadn’t said anything to Greg but he had to Anderson, “why?”
“Abruzzi said he’s the rat.”
“You can’t believe anything those grease monkeys say but if you want to talk to him then fine.” He left Michael and walked back to the group, tapping Greg roughly on the shoulder before pointing back to Michael, “he wants to talk to you. Hurry up about it.”
*****
“Hey brother.”
“I’m not your brother,” Sucre tried to signal his disinterest to C-Note in his tone but apparently it didn’t work.
“You’re more my brother than Scofield’s.”
“What do you want?”
“Your girl’s pregnant right? You’re not gonna be out until the kid starts kindergarten man! Scofield ruined both our lives.”
“If you’re asking me to lynch him you can forget it.”
“I’m not asking you to do anything, it’s just that if things kick off, you just happen to be looking the other way.”
“Not going to happen.”
C-Note laid a hand on his shoulder, “Hector’s gonna be raising your baby because of him and you’re letting him get away with it?”
“How’d you know about him?” Sucre grabbed the hand holding onto him and used it to slam C-Note into the nearest wall, “how’d you know?” He knew he wasn’t keeping his emotions in check, his voice loud and frightened but anything to do with Hector aggravated him.
“It’s amazing how much some guys like to gossip, it really is,” Sucre loosened his grip slightly, “just be looking the other way man, that’s all you have to do.”
Sucre let go of his arm entirely; “I’m not even considering it.” As he watched C-Note shrug and leave he wondered if people could tell that he had been considering it long before the conversation.
*****
“It’s Greg right?” Michael tried to put on his best reassuring smile, hoping that it wasn’t showing that he was considering that Greg might have to die.
“’Greg,’ ‘ Jones,’ ‘Whore,’ it all seems to blend together these days,” Michael felt a twinge of compassion at the half-hearted joke, trying to remember who he was being reminded of. “T-Bag said you wanted to talk to me?”
“Did you know about the escape?” Greg shook his head, “he didn’t mention it at all to you?”
“Who?”
“T-Bag, or anyone?”
Greg shook his head again, giggling, “this is one weird conversation. I thought you wanted to talk to me about joining.”
“Joining?”
“The purity gang.”
“I’m not racist.”
“Me neither but I’m not an idiot. They protect me and,” Michael saw a semi-serene look fall onto his face, “Teddy seems nice.”
Michael scoffed, unsure if it was at Greg’s whole speech or if it was at the use of the name ‘Teddy.’
“I know what he did to you wasn’t nice but it had to have been better than a whole group of black guys doing it.”
“You have to be the first victim to try and get me to join. Maytag wanted me kept out and Seth and Tweener wanted me to save them from it,” he suddenly froze. Tweener, he had been around him and around Bellick, repeatedly. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Nothing, just go back home,” he looked around wildly, trying to locate Tweener through the mass.
“Scofield, infirmary.”
“Not now.” He responded before he even realised what he’d said.
“This isn’t a negotiation. I said move it con!” Michael fell into step in front of the guard, smiling to himself, sure he had stumbled across the end to all his problems.
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Post by Dingley on Apr 23, 2007 12:41:39 GMT 1
Great work again AP! Lots going on which is good. Looking forward to seeing what will happen to Tweener
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Post by Audio Pineapple on Apr 23, 2007 18:27:43 GMT 1
Thanks  I'm not used to writing so many storylines at once in a fic so it's nice to see that you think it's working. |
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Post by scofield72 on Apr 23, 2007 19:13:54 GMT 1
OMG, I read it all for the first time today, Can't believe i've been coming on here for so long and not read it, anyway back to the point. It is fantastic, I was a bit shocked at Linc dying but seriously, WOW, its great  . It would make a fantastic couple of episodes!!! Great work AP, I can't wait for the next chapter now!! |
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Post by soulonfire on Apr 23, 2007 19:32:24 GMT 1
oooh! what will Michael do next!
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Post by Audio Pineapple on Apr 23, 2007 19:41:42 GMT 1
OMG, I read it all for the first time today, Can't believe i've been coming on here for so long and not read it, anyway back to the point. hehe you'll have had quite a bit to catch up on! Aww thanks! lol - day after tomorrow |
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Post by scofield72 on Apr 23, 2007 19:43:25 GMT 1
It was great, like I said I can't believe i haven't read it before, but i'll definitely be reading it from now on. lol
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Post by Audio Pineapple on Apr 25, 2007 11:15:53 GMT 1
Chapter 11Sara glanced over to the infirmary door, knowing that it would be Michael that was entering but still feeling her heart sink slightly when he did. She didn’t want to be dealing with it right now, just as everything was changing. Her father had revealed to her that he was being tipped to become the next vice-president and he had been arguing with her about the fact that she still worked in the prison, citing the riot as the reason why she should quit.
She smiled wryly to herself, if he knew that she had been conned by an inmate who was just trying to escape he would have gone ballistic, and he would have had the right to. It was her own fault for believing Michael, she had decided that the moment she’d heard the guards whispering and stepped outside of her office to find that a group of convicts had almost made it out, with Michael as the ringleader.
“Something funny?”
She jolted herself out of her daze, realising that Michael must have seen the look on her face, “nothing’s funny Scofield.” She signalled to the guard that he could leave and, as soon as he had done she began gathering the items for the test, keeping her head down to avoid eye contact.
“Did I tell you how sorry I am?” There was a lightness to his voice that hadn’t been there the day before and she was willing to admit to herself that, even though he seemed just slightly happier it irritated her.
“Yeah well you don’t sound very sorry.”
“I just found the answer to all of life’s problems,” she could tell that he wanted her to ask what the answer was, letting his sentence trail casually off and, although she was naturally curious as to what he was talking about, she refused to ask.
Beginning the test she waited a few moments in silence, not sure whether she felt elated or disappointed when the numbers came up. “You don’t have diabetes Michael.”
“I know.”
“Which means that you don’t have any excuse to come up here,” she began to walk towards the door to call for the guard when she heard Michael calling to her softly.
“Don’t you want to know what the answer is?”
“I don’t even care about the question.”
“When’s the next time I get to see you then?”
“Later, I’m required by prison policy to check on your stitches. They won’t let Katie do it.” She saw pain suddenly flash against Michael’s features and she smiled. A moment later she was frozen, wondering how she could smile when she knew what Michael was remembering. No matter how much she was trying to hate him he hadn’t deserved that, and he didn’t deserve her making jokes about it. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” He was genuinely confused and Sara caught herself, remembering that she hadn’t actually joked out loud and that a smile could look like nothing but a smile.
“Nothing, it doesn’t matter.”
“Can I tell you about the answer later?”
“Fine,” she made it out of the door and the guard came to take him away, leaving her wondering why it felt like she still cared and wondering how she was going to stop that from happening.
*****
Everything was beginning to fall into place as C-Note gazed around the yard, watching as one of his lackeys began to manoeuvre around the clusters of people to make his way over to the bleachers.
He hadn’t wanted it to end up like this, knowing that there was a good chance that his own friends would die but it was the only excuse he could think of, inmates died all the time in riots and Michael would be no exception. Stabbed or gutted or broken by nothing more than a faceless mob, even though C-Note had already demanded that nobody but him was allowed to deliver the killing blow.
The only lose part of the plan had been Sucre, inmates frequently stayed in their own tier and on their own side during the riots and, if he saw, Sucre would be able to tell Pope that he had killed Michael and then he would have even more years added onto his sentence. Even more time away from Dede.
But Sucre was thinking about looking the other way, C-Note had seen it in his eyes, it wouldn’t take much to convince him now.
Trying to look casual he watched as the lackey made it to the edge of the bleachers, waiting for him to grab his bait and C-Note hissed through his teeth when he saw T-Bag jumping down from his position. He casually jogged over to them in time to catch the tail-end of the speech.
“…and considering that fact we don’t really want your kind around our kind so why don’t you just go back to the slum side of the yard?”
“What’s the matter Teddy? Afraid of a little competition?”
“Competition?” T-Bag had turned to face C-Note now and C-Note grabbed hold of one of, what he personally called Prizes, grabbing it around the forearm and squeezing tightly. He felt the mass move behind him as all the other gang members shifted uncomfortably, trying to understand what was happening.
“Yeah competition, on who can kill the most lily-white whores,” less than a second after he spoke C-Note dug the shank into the boy’s throat, pulling it out and seeing him slip to the ground, a mass of blue shirts, blond hair and red blood.
It was a few seconds before anyone reacted, seemingly frozen in shock, but he felt himself crashing down next to the body, T-Bag leaning on him, his eyes blazing with anger and hate, delivering most of his blows around the head and shoulders.
The whole yard was in an uproar and amidst the shouted insults and the few lingering gasps of surprise C-Note waited a moment before retaliating, even though out of the corner of his eye he could see Rackham attacking his own lackey and one of the gang begin to cradle the corpse, delicately checking for any signs of life. Laughing C-Note thrust his knee upwards, connecting with T-Bag’s groin and moving out of his grasp when T-Bag half collapsed.
He had only made it a few steps when he found himself on the floor again; surprised that T-Bag was still attacking him. Almost finding himself worried that he would have to get into a fight already he felt the relief flood through him when shots were fired by the guards, watching T-Bag clamber off him and onto the floor to make sure he wasn’t hit.
“This ain’t over bitch.”
He saw T-Bag’s lip curl into a snarl at the insinuation, “damn right it isn’t.”
Everything was beginning to fall into place, it was only a matter of time before the Purity Gang wanted revenge for the Prizes’ death and it would be easy for Michael to get hurt in the riot.couple of questions if you're reading this because I'm trying to work out which bits work in the story and which bits don't if you could answer these I'd be very, very grateful... a) which bit of this chapter did you prefer? The Sara half or the C-Note half (and why?) b) which character's segments are you enjoying most overall (and why?) 
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