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30 June 2006 @ 11:53 am
Prison Break Gen Fanfiction: Like A Kid In A Candy Store  
Title: Like A Kid In A Candy Store
Author: HalfshellVenus
Characters: Lincoln and Michael (Gen, fluffy with a touch of angst)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Five First Things Lincoln did after getting out of prison.
Author’s Notes: Written for prisonbreak100, where I have the Gen pairing of Lincoln and Michael. This is for prompt #94, “Celebrate.” The idea for this came from a discussion on fluffier stories over on pb_plotbunnies.


x-x-x-x-x

Sweet Surrender
Outside Texarkana, they’d pulled off by the side of the road to eat their takeout. All their meals were on the run— they never stopped anywhere long enough to be recognized, or attract attention.

Michael was working on a bacon cheeseburger—the same thing Lincoln had fallen all over yesterday. His brother… had moved on.

Lincoln had ordered some sort of brownie-sundae concoction. Two of them, actually. They were goopy, drippy, and horrifyingly large. Michael glanced over occasionally, in part because Lincoln was so preoccupied that he hadn’t said anything in the last five minutes. Finally, Michael found himself staring.

His brother was enjoying the entire thing far too much. Watching it was like viewing some sort of pornographic extravaganza, not that Michel had much experience with that. But this had to be an event worthy of a marquee header, he was convinced of it.

“God, Lincoln,” Michael sputtered. “It’s just Dairy Queen.”

“Mmmmm,” Lincoln moaned. “It’s fantastic.”

“If you say so.” Not to put too fine a point on it, but really—ice cream, sauce… it wasn’t even Haagen Daz. How good could it possibly be?

“You don’t know what it’s been like,” Lincoln said. “For years, all I’ve had is the stuff other people decide for me is a treat. Things like tapioca and custard. This… is good.”

Hearing that made Michael consider. The food at Fox River had been pretty awful, and he’d only been there a few weeks himself. Plus, he hadn’t had the kind of stress Lincoln had dealt with all that time, waiting for the end on Death Row.

“Just don’t make yourself sick,” Michael said. Lincoln nodded and kept on scooping up spoonfuls of sweet, personal heaven.

They finished, cleaning up with extra napkins and bottled water.

An hour later, they had pulled off to the side of the road again. Michael rubbed Lincoln’s back while his brother lay across the backseat in misery. Michael had a brief thought that he’d been in this situation before, with their positions reversed—maybe back when he was eleven or twelve and had overdone it at a birthday party.

He pushed down the urge toward I told you so, just like Lincoln had done all those years ago.

Pleasure had its price, no doubt about it. But sometimes, it was still worth it.


Breaking Free
It was after nine on the Gulf, the air still warm after a blistering day. They were through with driving for the day and had stopped overnight at the beach, ready to stretch out in sleeping bags when it got late enough.

The soft waves of the ocean gleamed white in the moonlight, nothing more than a gentle roar stirring the air. Lincoln had stripped off his shoes and was scuffing through the sand like a little boy. He lifted and flung chunks of sand with the tops of his feet, watching them vault and then splatter. Finally, he stopped. Michael watched him shimmy-twist his feet further down in the sand then, probably enjoying the feeling of it underneath his toes.

“Remember when Mom used to take us to the Lake?” Lincoln asked.

Michael smiled. “I loved going there. Almost as much as the Field Museum and the Planeterium.”

“Ha! You and your museums.” They were moving again, strolling along the edge of the surf.

Michael felt the liquid swell of the water sweeping over his toes—different now across the place where toes were missing. Focus on the results, he reminded himself. Maybe it was a form of denial, but it would get him through all those lingering after-effects and memories. It was a small price to pay.

Suddenly Lincoln took off, running through the water and splashing Michael and himself as he went. Chucka-chucka-chucka-chucka!

For a fleeting moment, Michael caught himself thinking that Lincoln was making too much noise, and that someone might notice them.

But there was no-one but the two of them there. And his brother hadn’t been this carefree in as long as Michael could remember.

He found himself grinning, and running to catch up with Lincoln. He sloshed through the shallow waves as he went, soaking himself with saltwater and the sense of decadent freedom. It was beautiful, the sky star-laden and clear, and he was fast and weightless, lifted up with childhood memories and a wellspring of hope.


Tilt
Villahermosa was hot—especially for Michael, who seemed to be permanently trapped in long-sleeved shirts.

I wish I could have been sure I’d remember it all, he thought. I could have stopped the tattoo before the arms, and I wouldn’t be practically dying right now. It had just been too big a risk, though, leaving anything out. Not worth gambling with Lincoln’s life.

He walked just behind Lincoln, keeping sight of his brother’s straw sombrero. Lincoln had gotten used to it now—he even pretended that it was stylish. Me llamo Jorge, he’d say, clicking his tongue and giving Michael a cheesy grin. Like hell, Michael would answer, but it always made him smile.

“Oooh.” Michael nearly stumbled into his brother as Lincoln stopped outside a doorway. The sound of bells and clicks and electronic noises spilled out onto the sidewalk from the dark interior of the arcade.

“You want to go in, don’t you?” Michael murmured. They spoke softly, even though they were probably easily recognizable as Americans to just about anyone.

“Yeah,” Lincoln grinned. “I haven’t been to one of these since high school.”

They went inside and traded money for machine tokens. Michael splurged for what was probably five dollars worth, based on the exchange rate from when he’d stockpiled all that Mexican money before going into Fox River.

“Hey, they have Centipede!” Lincoln went over and popped a token in the machine.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Stay away from the pinball machines,” Michael warned. “Remember how you get.”

Lincoln nodded absentmindedly, his fingers shifting back and forth, pushing buttons, still too slow from being out of practice.

When Michael came back, Lincoln had moved on just as Michael could have predicted.

His brother was practically riding the pinball game, hips jerking, flippers clacking as he snapped his wrists and hands. The machine rocked as it lifted up on one side, and Michael cringed when it banged back down again.

“Ai! No mas! No mas!” The man behind the cash register had caught sight of the threat to his livelihood, and was banging on the lid to get Lincoln’s attention.

“Sorry,” Lincoln said, backing away with a hint of embarrassment.

Michael guided him out toward the sidewalk, back into the heat of the afternoon, as stray curses followed them through the door.

“I always think I won’t let it go that far,” Lincoln said, as they headed back to the car. Michael didn’t need to tell him it was time to make themselves scarce. They were both used to the routine by now.

“I know.” Michael admitted. He’d been down this road before. “But it always does,” he said softly, trying to keep the accusation out of his voice. Like pretty much everything, he thought—but didn’t say.


Of The Flesh
In Cheturnal, Lincoln’s eyes kept drifting down the alleyway. Girls in clingy blouses and short, tight-fitting skirts lingered against the wall, smiling coyly at them as they passed.

Lincoln looked over at Michael and waggled his eyebrows. And Michael had to admit, he’d half expected this.

There’d been the cigarettes, within the first two days after breaking out. “Do you really want to start this up again?” Michael had asked. “They smell god-awful, and they’re bad for you. Plus, we don’t really have the money for it long-term. And you’ve pretty much kicked the habit already.” Lincoln kept at it for a day, even after Michael vetoed smoking in the car. But he gave it up again. Not worth it—or just not worth the hassle.

This was going to be harder. Michael couldn’t reasonably expect Lincoln not to want this— not after years in prison, years of facing your own mortality. And it was Lincoln. His brother had been focused on this particular track since about age 13, and he’d had a lot of success in pursuing it. It was as much a part of Lincoln’s nature as strength and loyalty. This wasn’t a battle Michael was going to win.

Thank god he’d prepared for it.

He pulled Lincoln around an empty corner, and went over the ground rules. “Use protection— every time, take a whole bunch of condoms if you need to. Don’t let her see any of your tattoos and don’t tell her anything about yourself, just in case. No kissing, nothing where you could catch anything from her—it’s going to be really hard to get medical attention where we’re going, and we can’t risk the attention anyway. So here’s 200 pesos, and be careful. I’ll be at the car. Don’t get rolled.”

Lincoln looked kind of stunned. Whether it was that Michael was saying yes to the hooker thing—which was the kind of thing Michael frowned upon in general—or the laundry list of instructions he’d given out, Michael couldn’t be sure.

“You’re okay with this?” Lincoln asked.

“I wouldn’t want you to make a habit of it, but… I know what you’ve been through. So go ahead, and have a good time. Just be careful.” There was a surreal overtone to the whole conversation, and Michael felt like someone’s Dad letting his son take the car out on the weekend. Except that this was totally different, and infinitely weirder in a really sleazy sort of way.

“You’re not coming?”

Michael wrinkled his nose before he could stop himself. “No,” he said flatly.

“There were lots of pretty girls back there.”

“Not my thing,” Michael stated firmly.

“Oh. Maybe a guy, then?”

“What? No. Just—no hookers. Or strangers,” Michael said. “And with my tattoos… Even if I wanted to, it’d be way too dangerous.”

“Okay. Just trying to be open-minded,” Lincoln said.

“Well thanks, I guess. Not that you need to be, but thanks. So, do what you have to, don’t get caught, and don’t tell me about it afterwards.”

“You don’t want to hear all the details?”

“I really, really don’t. I’ll see you back at the car.”

Michael patted Lincoln’s arm, not missing the combination of reservations and anticipation warring on his brother’s face. But he had to let Lincoln have this. It was everything Michael would never do himself, but this wasn’t about him.

He and Lincoln were just different, in this area most of all. They reacted in opposite ways to all of the impulse-control issues—sex, drugs, alcohol, anger.

Sex was the least dangerous part of that whole picture, and it was something he could let Lincoln have with little chance of it snowballing.

The things I do for him, Michael thought.

But when he stacked it up against dropping out of high school to pay the bills and keep the two of them out of foster care, against borrowing too much money so that Michael could go to college… it was so small and weightless that it seemed nearly non-existent.

Be glad that I can, a voice said inside Michael’s head. Be glad that I can…


Coping With The Consequences
Three weeks into the escape, Michael came out of the grungy hotel bathroom one morning to find Lincoln standing in front of the mirror half-dressed.

“Michael, my pants are tight,” Lincoln said.

Not that Michael was planning on saying anything, but he’d wondered how long it was going to take Lincoln to notice. “Ummmm,” he hedged.

“I guess all that food is taking its toll,” Lincoln said.

Michael did an instant mental review of the last few weeks. Cheeseburgers, Doritos, beer, burritos, queso, ice cream, candy bars— it had been a never-ending parade of junk food. His stomach lurched just thinking about it. Personally, he’d moved onto fruit and other basics about a week back.

“I guess getting bigger pants probably isn’t the answer.” Lincoln yanked on the waistband a little, as if that would help.

“Probably not,” Michael admitted.

“God, I never had to care about this stuff in prison. Not that I could have done much about it anyway. It wasn’t like my health was going to suffer.”

Michael never knew whether Lincoln was trying to be funny when he said things like that. He probably was. It must be part of the mental game you had to go through in that kind of situation.

Michael poked around in his luggage, in an effort to seem casual. “We can cut back a little, if you want.” He didn’t look at his brother, trying to minimize the situation. It was always a toss-up how Lincoln would react to suggestions like that. He might get pissed off that Michael even said it. Or he might think it was completely sensible. No way to be sure.

“Yeah, guess I better. I can’t really get out and exercise much while we’re still traveling. How much further?” Lincoln put his shirt on, and frowned at the result. He took it off again, trading white for black.

Michael looked away before his expression said something his brother could identify.

“Probably another week,” he answered. “Depending on the roads.”

Lincoln jammed his remaining clothes into his duffle bag and sat down to tie his shoes. He stopped a moment to look at them.

“Do we have enough money in the budget to buy something more like running shoes?” he asked.

“Yeah, we could probably swing it,” Michael said. “You’re thinking of taking up jogging?”

Lincoln smiled. “I’d kind of like that. It’d be a huge change from being stuck in that tiny yard, or even being in the city with all the traffic.” There was a wistful look in his eyes that Michael had noticed a couple of times in the last few weeks, but which he really hadn’t seen much of before. Lincoln had always been the kind of person who dealt in what was—he didn’t hold out a lot of hope for things that might happen someday in the future, if there was more money or if the chance came up or if pigs started to fly.

“Absolutely,” Michael answered.

“You know what else I’d like? If there’s a place for it when we get there?” Lincoln said. “A basketball hoop. Nothing fancy, just a hoop and a ball in a flat space big enough to bounce the ball around.”

Michael remembered. Only a few people ever played basketball at Fox River—you had to be the right color and in with the right people to use the hoops out there in the yard. He’d been neither. And before Death Row, he supposed the same had been true for Lincoln.

Michael thought about noise, and activity, and whether there’d be neighbors where they ended up who might look at the two of them a little harder out of irritation. And he looked at his brother, who hadn’t wanted much of anything for years—at least not that he’d ever mentioned to Michael.

And Michael made a decision.

“If at all possible,” he said, “I will make that happen.”

Michael’s heart hummed at the way Lincoln beamed.

This was why he’d done it, every risk and every lasting scar. And he wouldn’t trade this outcome for anything.



------ fin ------

 
 
 
The Good, The Bad and The Lanathelana on June 30th, 2006 07:32 pm (UTC)
(1) I can't help it. Your Gen will *always* feel slashy to me. Maybe more onesided slashy, but still slashy. And hey, I consider that a good thing.
(2) As clex said, even the fluff in this fandom is angsty.

That said: Lincoln/brownie-sundae concoction OTP!!!

And because I'm an angstho of course I enjoyed those portions best, this whole intervoven theme of having to pay a price for everything and of Michael paying/having paid the price.

My favorite part is definitely Michael giving Lincoln hooker advice. Just a thing of genius. Especially:

“There were lots of pretty girls back there.”
“Not my thing,” Michael stated firmly.
“Oh. Maybe a guy, then?”
“What? No. Just—no hookers. Or strangers,” Michael said. “And with my tattoos… Even if I wanted to, it’d be way too dangerous.”


:D It gave me the oddest mental image of Michael rolling his eyes and going "Can't you wait for Veronica?" and Lincoln kind of tilting his head, thinking a bit and then shaking his head and going "Naw......!" and sauntering off into the direction of the hookers with the money thrust in his pocket :D

Close second is of course walking the beach together. Well and Lincoln attacking the poor pinball machine. I think walking the beach together and the ending:

“If at all possible,” he said, “I will make that happen.”
Michael’s heart hummed at the way Lincoln beamed.
This was why he’d done it, every risk and every lasting scar. And he wouldn’t trade this outcome for anything.


Are totally the happy-happy, squishy-squishy awwwwww moments.
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: PB Final Hughalfshellvenus on June 30th, 2006 07:56 pm (UTC)
I can't help it. Your Gen will *always* feel slashy to me.
All I can say is *thwap*! I swear, the Gen is slashy and the slash isn't slashy enough sometimes! :0 Dere is no slash here.

That said: Lincoln/brownie-sundae concoction OTP!!!
They're surprisingly good. Especially if what you're after is brownie/fudge-sauce and a little ice cream. The quality of the ice cream is really secondary. But purists... *sniff*... what do they know?

:D It gave me the oddest mental image of Michael rolling his eyes and going "Can't you wait for Veronica?" and Lincoln kind of tilting his head, thinking a bit and then shaking his head and going "Naw......!" and sauntering off into the direction of the hookers with the money thrust in his pocket :D
That would be so Lincoln. "Hey, I've waited three years already for anything female to come along. I'm not waiting a moment longer!"

I had to throw that one in there, because realism demanded it. I'm kind of as squicked as Michael, but still... realism is a bitch sometimes!

Close second is of course walking the beach together. Well and Lincoln attacking the poor pinball machine.
I love the beach one, for the child-like quality of Lincoln's happiness there. And the pinball machine one carries a hidden sting (we all agree-- even the fluff hides shades of angst).

The ending... glad that works. The last sentences of that, and the title, held this story up for a looooong time. My own titles give me fits sometimes. :(

But yes, the theme of prices you pay for your happiness is pretty much woven throughout here. Even generally, once you stop being a child that is unfortunately true a lot of the time. If it isn't stomachaches, it's pants that don't fit. :0 Or hangovers. Or sunburns. Or credit-card bills. :D:D:D

Thank goodness the price usually doesn't involve toes!
(no subject) - thelana on June 30th, 2006 08:06 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - halfshellvenus on June 30th, 2006 08:33 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - merctales on July 2nd, 2006 01:21 am (UTC) (Expand)
The Grammarian about whom your mother warned you.acostilow on June 30th, 2006 07:58 pm (UTC)
Oh. This touched me in so many ways. Absolutely brilliant. And all that other good stuff. :)
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: PB Final Hughalfshellvenus on June 30th, 2006 08:26 pm (UTC)
I can't tell you how much I love that you read this. It's Gen, and it isn't even your fandom! You rock like a leather babe with a microphone! ♥
(no subject) - acostilow on June 30th, 2006 08:30 pm (UTC) (Expand)
BEWARE OF JENMAR.: PB - The Brothers Gen - Linc and Michaelclex_monkie89 on June 30th, 2006 10:00 pm (UTC)
I heart you more and more with each fic. I think my favorite out of all of these is the mental image I get of Linc in the backseat with a stomachache from all the ice cream.
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: Gen PB brothershalfshellvenus on June 30th, 2006 10:14 pm (UTC)
I think my favorite out of all of these is the mental image I get of Linc in the backseat with a stomachache from all the ice cream.
And if you've ever had one of those sundaes, I'm sure you're familiar with the temptation that leads a person to overindulge!

:D Glad you liked these. I do kind of love the end, where Lincoln finally realizes he's putting on weight. Oh the Humanity! :0
(no subject) - clex_monkie89 on July 1st, 2006 07:05 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - halfshellvenus on July 2nd, 2006 05:33 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - clex_monkie89 on July 2nd, 2006 08:08 am (UTC) (Expand)
Tiger Lily: Prison Breaktigerlily0 on June 30th, 2006 10:13 pm (UTC)
I like it. I can just see Lincoln wanting to do all these things after getting out. I like your Michael/Lincoln brotherly interactions too.
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: Gen PB brothershalfshellvenus on June 30th, 2006 10:16 pm (UTC)
Thank you, tigerlily :)

I can so easily imagine him eating and boozing his way down the entire continent, with a few unpleasant aftereffects along the way.

And the ocean... what a temptation that would be after being locked up in Death Row for three years. Like being 5-years-old all over again. :)
wentworth801 on June 30th, 2006 10:23 pm (UTC)
*grins* loved Linc in all these pieces. Such little boy behavior coming out of a big man!
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: Gen PB brothershalfshellvenus on June 30th, 2006 10:26 pm (UTC)
:D Thank you!

loved Linc in all these pieces. Such little boy behavior coming out of a big man!
I so often get the feeling that Lincoln missed a lot of opportunities to really BE a little boy for very long. Once his father left, I think he turned very serious. And left a number of missed opportunities along the way.

At last, he gets to have a little fun! Until his pants activate the early-warning system on eating too much. ;)
i'm chris, not dustin (bella): Michael - Kid!dreameraccrues on June 30th, 2006 11:00 pm (UTC)
Halfshell.... you kill me. See? I'm dead.

Lincoln had ordered some sort of brownie-sundae concoction. Two of them, actually. They were goopy, drippy, and horrifyingly large. Michael glanced over occasionally, in part because Lincoln was so preoccupied that he hadn’t said anything in the last five minutes. Finally, Michael found himself staring.
Oh yum. I can picture the whole scene and it cracks me up. Lincoln in a absolute blissful stage, and Michael's weirded out staring. Along with the sundae which would have to look absolutely disgusting. Like I said.. Yum! (Now I want icecream, and it's only 8.25am)

What interests me is that in this fandom, no matter how fluffy you want to make things, it's still angsty. This is mainly fluff and yet you have this...
Michael felt the liquid swell of the water sweeping over his toes—different now across the place where toes were missing. Focus on the results, he reminded himself. Maybe it was a form of denial, but it would get him through all those lingering after-effects and memories. It was a small price to pay.
Not that I'm complaining, I love this bit. It's well written and flows perflectly, as I watch the water lap up on Micheal's eight toes gently, and I can feel the wound being hit and the cold difference it makes. GUH and this is WRITING. Just goes to show how well you write!

HA! It's Gen and yet I'm assuming we're making Michael gay? I mean, considering “Oh. Maybe a guy, then?” Hmm.. :P

Lincoln getting fat made me laugh, especially when Michael had already switched to fruit and things that are healthy.

Nice fic, mind if I add it to my recc reading list?
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: Gen PB brothershalfshellvenus on June 30th, 2006 11:36 pm (UTC)
Hi, tearcreek!

Along with the sundae which would have to look absolutely disgusting.
You would think, wouldn't you? And yet if you love fudge-sauce and brownies and ice cream, there's no possibility of disgusting. There's only, "Wait. I think that needs more sauce." ;)

What interests me is that in this fandom, no matter how fluffy you want to make things, it's still angsty.
I know, I know. Even as I was writing it, I thought about the fact that these aspects just creep in. You just can't help it, with both their childhood and what they went through in prison. Nothing is unleavened any longer.

HA! It's Gen and yet I'm assuming we're making Michael gay?
Well, actually no. That's the first thing Lincoln thinks of when Michael says he's not interested in a hooker. Instead of, "Hookers? Ewww! Skank and disease!" In Lincoln's world, hookers are just available women that you have to pay. In Michael's world, they're strangers with really suspect motives and medical history. But Lincoln just... doesn't get that. He's kind of basic that way. :0

Lincoln getting fat made me laugh, especially when Michael had already switched to fruit and things that are healthy.
Michael definitely hasn't had as long to crave stuff as Lincoln has, but it would be more like him too to think of the outcome even as he's indulging in something.

Nice fic, mind if I add it to my recc reading list?
Please! I would be thrilled. :D
(no subject) - accrues on June 30th, 2006 11:52 pm (UTC) (Expand)
PamalaX: domchestpamalax on July 1st, 2006 12:38 am (UTC)
Loved it!! I've given some though... toyed with trying to write some of the things Linc would have missed, wanted to taste, touch, and have
as soon as he had his freedom, but my mind wouldn't play the game.

Now I see it was just ahead of the game and was waiting for you to step up and do it so brilliantly. ;o)

Its was great! Just the kind of thing I'd been hoping to come across for a long time. BIG thanks!

Love to archive it to my site if you are willing?

The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: Gen PB brothershalfshellvenus on July 1st, 2006 02:21 am (UTC)
Its was great! Just the kind of thing I'd been hoping to come across for a long time. BIG thanks!
Thank you so much, Pamala!

It came up as a stray plotbunny over on the PB group for that, and when I saw it I thought, "This is the kind of (almost) fluff I could write). Glad it worked out so well.

Love to archive it to my site if you are willing?
Yes, please! And thank you. :)
bluedelft on July 1st, 2006 01:03 am (UTC)
Finally finding the time to read some fic and this was really great!

After reading this one I'm looking forward to reading more of your fics.

There were so many great parts but I think my fav is Michael rubbing Lincoln's back. The brothers are always there watching out and protecting each other even in the small ways like this.

The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: Gen PB brothershalfshellvenus on July 1st, 2006 02:23 am (UTC)
Finally finding the time to read some fic and this was really great!
Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I was hoping to add a little fun into all our lives. :)

There were so many great parts but I think my fav is Michael rubbing Lincoln's back. The brothers are always there watching out and protecting each other even in the small ways like this.
:) And once in awhile... remembering when to just shut up and not give that lecture that's just dying to come out. :D
(no subject) - bluedelft on July 1st, 2006 02:41 am (UTC) (Expand)
Former wild child of the 80's: Little faithsierra_foxx on July 1st, 2006 05:26 am (UTC)
Wow - this was fantastic! I love how the brothers relationship has reversed since they were out of prison, now Michael is the one taking charge of Lincoln and trying to give him what he missed out on.

And Michael made a decision.

“If at all possible,” he said, “I will make that happen.”

Michael’s heart hummed at the way Lincoln beamed.

This was why he’d done it, every risk and every lasting scar. And he wouldn’t trade this outcome for anything.


That just sums it up beautifully for me... I look forward to reading more from you! This was just great. Thankyou!



The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: Gen PB brothershalfshellvenus on July 1st, 2006 04:53 pm (UTC)
I love how the brothers relationship has reversed since they were out of prison, now Michael is the one taking charge of Lincoln and trying to give him what he missed out on.
It's a nice change of roles-- especially here where Michael doesn't have to resent taking care of Lincoln. And he's making the chance for Lincoln to enjoy things he really missed, which is always a great feeling. :)

I look forward to reading more from you! This was just great. Thankyou!
Thank you so much! I have boatloads of prior fics on my LiveJournal homepage... been at this awhile, and there's a _lot_ of Prison Break there.
Becbecisvolatile on July 1st, 2006 01:02 pm (UTC)
Dude, this fic touched me on so many levels... and mostly because I heartily understand the need for icecream. Nice stuff.
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: DominicSexyhalfshellvenus on July 1st, 2006 04:45 pm (UTC)
Dude, this fic touched me on so many levels...
Yay! Sometimes fluff (pseudo-fluff) is the best!

and mostly because I heartily understand the need for icecream.
Oy. It's my Achilles' Heel. I can't even keep it in the house. :( And that's WITHOUT all the sauce and extras, for which I am a complete h0r. :0
merctales on July 1st, 2006 04:02 pm (UTC)
"Michael was working on a bacon cheeseburger—the same thing Lincoln had fallen all over yesterday. His brother… had moved on."
Awesome, awesome line.

The moment at the beach with Michael and the feel of the water on the Toes That Aren't There...awwwww... Made me sniffle.

"“I always think I won’t let it go that far,” Lincoln said, as they headed back to the car."
That poor Mexican arcade owner--all of a sudden there's this big American man attack-humping his pinball machine...while wearing a goofy sombrero! Fun mental image there.

Michael's back to being the bigger brother again--especially with the hooker part. Frighteningly, I've given similar lists of instructions to my brothers (not about hookers but other things) before letting them loose on Friday nights. It was nice of Linc to think of Michael.

"“You don’t want to hear all the details?”
“I really, really don’t."

Sounds like a chance to squick little brother out!

I hope they end up somewhere with a basketball hoop...or even a produce basket with the bottom punched out attached to a pole. It's sad that neither of them really got to play basketball at Fox River 'cause they were white.

It's really way too soon after waking up for me to be reading and reviewing a fic. You done good!
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: Gen PB brothershalfshellvenus on July 1st, 2006 04:50 pm (UTC)
The moment at the beach with Michael and the feel of the water on the Toes That Aren't There...awwwww... Made me sniffle.
It's so sad. That notion comes to me every time-- being barefoot (which I love) is no longer a simple pleasure for Michael anymore. :(

That poor Mexican arcade owner--all of a sudden there's this big American man attack-humping his pinball machine...while wearing a goofy sombrero! Fun mental image there.
It's even funnier when you put it like that! :D Sometimes, a person can enjoy things just a little too much. Right over the line into damage and destruction.

I hope they end up somewhere with a basketball hoop...or even a produce basket with the bottom punched out attached to a pole.
That's all you really need, and it would be worth it just to have that really basic version of it. I can imagine that by the time Lincoln stopped mostly doing that kind of thing with Michael (*cough* drugsMarriageJailDrugs *cough*) that Michael wasn't anywhere near his full height. This could be interesting, now that he's as tall as Lincoln. :0

It's really way too soon after waking up for me to be reading and reviewing a fic.
And yet I so love that you did. Thank you! Yayyyy! :D

(no subject) - thelana on July 1st, 2006 08:54 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - merctales on July 2nd, 2006 01:24 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - halfshellvenus on July 2nd, 2006 05:34 am (UTC) (Expand)
wenty_freak on July 5th, 2006 03:09 am (UTC)
This was just lovely. It's an odd way to describe it, but it left me with such a warm feeling about these two.

Fave line: “God, Lincoln,” Michael sputtered. “It’s just Dairy Queen.”
Tee hee hee hee.

Also, this one...
He and Lincoln were just different, in this area most of all. They reacted in opposite ways to all of the impulse-control issues—sex, drugs, alcohol, anger.
is such a great description of these two and their relationship. Brothers but not twins.

Wonderful piece. I love your gen fic!!!
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: Gen PB brothershalfshellvenus on July 5th, 2006 06:14 pm (UTC)
It's an odd way to describe it, but it left me with such a warm feeling about these two.
That's fantastic-- that was the intent of the story. Even with the little stings here and there of pasts/propensities they can't fix, overall this is a happy story that reveals bonding moments (and personalities) through these post-escape celebrations of freedom. :) It's one of the reasons I crave fluff myself sometimes-- I just want to feel all warm and snuggly inside after reading something (and not be thinking about The Chair or The Scar or SpyDaddy or other awful things).

Fave line: “God, Lincoln,” Michael sputtered. “It’s just Dairy Queen.”
:D Glad you liked that! Dairy Queen sundaes are far better than they have any right to be, but I can't see Michael understanding that somehow. ;)

Brothers but not twins.
Really, almost polar opposites more than anything. Fortunately they understand and allow for each others' differences (most of the time). This brings up larger questions for me, always, of siblings who would never find each other as friends were they not related. I have a sister like that, and thank goodness we ARE related. I'd be missing out otherwise, because our style in friends is just very different.

Thanks so much for your comments, wenty_freak. They made my day!

Mayhem Parvaraincitygirl on July 5th, 2006 08:51 am (UTC)
This is just AWESOME!!!!! I have no words.
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: Gen PB brothershalfshellvenus on July 5th, 2006 06:16 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! It is SO nice to find people who enjoy Gen stories. Not to mention fluff!

I still love your icon. For most people, that "Angel" episode was either dreadful or a riot. I'm on the "riot" side. :D
(no subject) - thelana on July 5th, 2006 07:01 pm (UTC) (Expand)
tyrical: AP_aJolietyrical on July 21st, 2006 05:31 pm (UTC)
I love the subtle way of how you showed the difficulties of day to day living with someone. Not only could I see the love between the two of them I can also see why Michael did what he did. His love for Linc knows no bounds. Even if Michael wants to throttle Linc sometimes.
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: PB Final Hughalfshellvenus on July 22nd, 2006 06:55 am (UTC)
Not only could I see the love between the two of them
I'm glad that came through clearly, even with the ups and downs of everything else that was happening. :)

His love for Linc knows no bounds. Even if Michael wants to throttle Linc sometimes.
Exactly. And the reverse too, of course. Though I do envy siblings who are close and entirely avoid the "Grrr!" part of the relationship altogether. But I think that's virtually impossible when the personalities are so incredibly different, as they are with these two.

Thank you, tyrical. I've missed you. *sniffle*
(no subject) - realpestilence on September 19th, 2011 11:14 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - halfshellvenus on September 19th, 2011 10:12 pm (UTC) (Expand)
poważny zamyślony kwadrat: PB/Brothers2pellamerethiel on March 14th, 2007 10:52 pm (UTC)
Oh, that was really, really good! I've loved to read something lighter and fluffier than stuff that I'm reading usual and that was exactly what I was looking for! I loved especially Michael, with his thoughts like "it was a small price to pay" and his fear that they would be seen, but there was no one on the beach. Perfect!
But he had to let Lincoln have this. It was everything Michael would never do himself, but this wasn’t about him.
Just beautiful!:)
The Coalition For Disturbing Metaphors: PB Final Hughalfshellvenus on September 20th, 2011 06:23 am (UTC)
I'm sorry it took me so long to reply to your comment!

This story IS a lot lighter than most PB stories, though there are always those little moments of angst that Michael and Lincoln can't escape, after what they've been through.

Still, the overriding mood is one of happiness and freedom. Even the simplest things become magical when you've been denied them for so long. :)