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21 January 2011 @ 09:53 pm
Prison Break - Four Times Sara and Lincoln Tackled Michael Down (and One Time They Pushed Him Up)  
Title: Four Times Sara and Lincoln Tackled Michael Down (and One Time They Pushed Him Up)
Author: clair_de_lune
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael, Lincoln, Sara, a hint of Mahone, a dash of Michael Jr. (Michael/Sara, Michael/Sara/Lincoln)
Genres: Gen, Romance, Fluff, Angst
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 1305
Summary: They have this tendency to gang up on him for his own good – or so they say. (Seasons 2 & 4, post-series, non-epilogue compliant.)
Author’s Note: Ensemble of five tiny ficlets. The Michael/Lincoln/Sara aspect is relatively tame and only shows up in the fifth one: if it’s not your cup of tea, as long as you stop reading at the end of the fourth drabble, you’re safe.

Many thanks to tuesdaeschild for the beta (and the plot bunny).

They have this tendency to gang up on him for his own good – or so they say. Not that he questions their intentions. It’s just that sometimes...


The hotel bedroom in Chicago is quiet and comfortable. When they push him across the bed (he bounces a bit on the mattress), he would almost go down without resistance, roll himself into the soft sheets and blankets and do as they say when they order to him, “Sleep.”

Thing is, Linc and Sara head for the small table with the laptop still open on it, and it’s slightly humiliating to be ordered to take a nap when they plan to keep working on the files the three of them have been working on up until now. There’s no reason why he should be more exhausted than they are. Except... maybe because between two murderous glances thrown at Kellerman, Sara actually had the good sense to rest and sleep in the backseat of the car; and Lincoln is a bull in a human form anyway, and about as resistant.

He tries to sit up nonetheless, just on principle, and ends up with the hand of his bull of a brother planted in the middle of his chest and the deceptively soft voice of Sara insisting that he should rest.

He does.


He’s not at his best, he’ll admit that much – tumor and all that stuff. It probably explains why he doesn’t react as fast as he should. Deafening gun shots, tires screeching, shouts and brisk movements, and it all happens far too quickly for him to register. He’s shoved down and behind the car. He can feel the scorching and coarse texture of the asphalt beneath the skin of his cheek, Sara’s hand splayed on his skull and the combined weights of Sara and Lincoln’s bodies on him. The two of them weigh about five hundred pounds by the way – something he’s not going to share with Sara – but it’s okay. For a couple of seconds, the gun shots and shouts and noisy tires don’t matter anymore; he could stay like that for the rest of his life, squished and pressed down but drowning in the two people who matter the most. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Linc’s hand on the back of Sara’s head, his fingers tangled into her brown-red hair, and he smiles because Sara’s hand is still on his head.

Then someone shoots back, and Lincoln decides he should help.

When everything gets quiet again and they get up, Michael sees Alex walking towards them, smoking gun still in hand, hair messy and arms spread wide in protest.

“Thanks, guys,” he says wryly.

Sara has the good taste to blush a bit when she replies, “Sorry, Alex.”


He won’t talk.

Last time they saw him, he was breaking Sara out of Miami Dade and everybody left him for dead. When he showed up on her doorstep fucking months later, he was very much alive, although sporting suspicious scars and looking like something crappy the cat would have dragged in. That’s the part he won’t talk about, the scars and the pitiful-mouse-dragged-in-by-the-cat look.

At first – in addition to a long bath and clean clothes because he stinks, as Lincoln kindly puts it – they give him some leeway. Then they stop giving him the leeway because you can’t pull this kind of stunt without people calling you on it. One night, Sara’s hands land on his shoulders from his right, Lincoln’s from his left, and they sit him down on the couch in the living room. They want explanations; they want them now. Not why he did this – it’s pretty obvious – but how and who helped, if anybody helped, and what is that damn scar drawing a half circle between his navel and the small of his back, and...

He still won’t talk.

They can’t always win...

They frown, sniffle, purse their lips, and eventually, Sara gets up and disappears down the dark hallway leading to the bedroom. Her eyes are sad, her shoulders hunched, but she keeps her head high – doesn’t she always? Lincoln follows her, pretending not to glance at him still sitting in the living room.

… or you know, maybe they can win.

He trails after them.


Two sets of hands drag him down almost as efficiently as they did over five years ago, in that deserted industrial compound in L.A. The only difference today is that he lands swiftly, and with his face buried in the rich green grass of the back garden instead of dirty macadam. It reminds him that he needs to mow the thing, and he’s going to... soon. The small blades of grass tickle his nose, desperately making him want to sneeze. Lincoln pinches his nostrils and gives him a stern look, the look that since they were kids has always meant shut up or I’ll make you sorry for opening your big mouth.

So he shuts up. Given Sara’s grin and the way it reaches her eyes, it can’t be something serious.

“We’re playing hide and seek with Mikey,” she explains good-naturedly, her voice a whisper into his neck. He shivers despite the heat.

“I’m sorry?” he protests when the delicious goose-bumps caused by her breath brushing over his skin subside and he can gather his wits.

“That little brat is good at it,” Lincoln grumbles.

Well, he should be good at it considering who his parents and uncle are and the circumstances in which he was conceived, shouldn’t he?

“If you left your first hideaway, aren’t you... cheating?” Michael points out. “On a five year-old?”

“He’s good at it,” Lincoln repeats slowly, emphasizing each syllable as though Michael is dumb. “You can’t win against him if you don’t cheat!”


When he wakes up, he’s comfortably nestled between them; Sara and Lincoln cradling him, their legs and hands and breaths entwining and mingling. He tries to get up because it’s too much, too early. He’s slightly aching from last night and too damn hungry – for actual food. They catch him instinctively, their arms snaking around him and pulling him down, their eyes still closed, unrefined protests escaping them. Who does he think he is to disrupt a perfect morning in such a way?

Sara presses her thigh between his legs, her lips against his lips, and Lincoln’s hand slides down his back and curls on his hip. His brother’s fingers playfully fumble with the waistband of the boxer shorts Michael put on to sleep and, while doing so, brush the smooth skin of Sara’s leg. She squints at Linc with sleepy eyes, not entirely displeased by the touch. Totally pleased by the touch, if her small smile is anything to go by.

Michael lets his head loll back on the pillow, lies down and bathes in their warmth; just enjoying the moment.

“Where do you think you were going anyway?” Sara asks. She kisses the hollow at the base of his throat, grabs Lincoln’s hand and repositions it with authority. None of the men second guess her decision.

“Coffee,” he murmurs in response. “Juice. Breakfast.”

He won’t talk in full sentences right now.

There’s a barely perceptible but so real stiffening in the welcoming bodies cuddling him. Sara leans up on her elbow and looks at Linc above Michael’s head. Noses wrinkle, eyebrows crook up knowingly; eventually, hands slip under his back and push him up and out of the bed. They rearrange themselves in the messy bedding, stretch out and pat each other familiarly; they downright appropriate the spot he just left.

“Good idea,” they approve. “Go for it.”

- - - - -

… So it’s not that he questions their intentions; it’s just that sometimes, they have their own peculiar definition of what his own good is.


--Feedback is always welcome.
Current Mood: blahblah
The depressed optimist: PB - Sara LOLlizparker6 on January 21st, 2011 10:18 pm (UTC)
lol, i so enjoy these little fics of yours, i truly do.:D lol, though i cannot help but to wistfully think sometimes - if only michael and sara were alone in this one, without linc sporting a constant presence.... :-P

But I guess thats your thing, I remember you mentioning once that you couldnt write michael and sara without incorporating linc and if this is the price I have to pay for reading such an awesome stuff, then I am willing to pay it gladly.:)

Also, most adorable and fun was the part when they played hide-and-seek with Michael Jr., hilarious.:D

The part when linc 'explains' why they HAVE TO cheat was awesome. :) Great job!!
Clair de Lune: pb - michael saraclair_de_lune on January 21st, 2011 10:47 pm (UTC)
I remember you mentioning once that you couldnt write michael and sara without incorporating linc

I said that?! It either was about something special in a special story or I explained myself awfully *shakes head at herself* I tend to write more graphic fics when I 'incorporate' Lincoln in my Michael/Sara, but it hardly applies here, right? This one is rather cute.
That said, I have been posting a lot of Michael/Sara/Lincoln, and very few Michael/Sara stories lately *hugs* And I'm afraid the couple of fics waiting on my hardrive to be posted are as crowded with Linc as this one ;)

Also, most adorable and fun was the part when they played hide-and-seek

Initially, each part had a 'title/genre'. Can you guess that part 4 was Fluff? ;)

The part when linc 'explains' why they HAVE TO cheat was awesome. :)

Linc takes his game of hide-and-seek a bit too seriously, me thinks!

Thanks a lot for the comment, Liz, and hopefully at some point, I'll write again some Michael/Sara free of any Lincoln ;)

Edited at 2011-01-22 12:03 am (UTC)
dani101: pic#48931746hugdani101 on January 22nd, 2011 11:04 am (UTC)
Absolutely agree with lizparker6- your fics are totally true to the characters and the show and is always pleasure to read- thank you!:))))
Clair de Lune: origami - canardclair_de_lune on January 22nd, 2011 11:48 am (UTC)
Aww, thanks a lot! It's always nice to be able to write them every now and then, and that there's still people enjoying a bit of PB fic :)
Maz (or foxxy!): Ooops!tuesdaeschild on January 22nd, 2011 05:00 pm (UTC)
I just love Michael being the tacklee!! But you knew that anyway!! :)

This is a lovely mixture of cute, fluffy, angsty, funny and smutty (that sounds a little like five of the seven dwarfs!) and of course Mikey would be brilliant at Hide and Seek!!!

And I am so glad that you keep finding inspiration to write these one shots because there is still love for Prison Break and the characters we adore. ♥

Clair de Lune: pb - michael2clair_de_lune on January 22nd, 2011 08:00 pm (UTC)
Even I hadn't known, somehow, I think I would have suspected it ;)

Cute, Funny, Fluffy, Angsty and Smutty? I wonder who the two other dwarfs would be ^__^ And why the plural for dwarf isn't dwarves? *kicks geek out*

Mikey would be brilliant at a lot of things. Have you seen who his Dad is? Not to mention his Mom? (why, yes, I still have a fangirl crush on Sara ;))

Thank you, Foxy - for the bunny, the beta, the support... *hugs*

Don't pay attention to the edit. Just spotted an ugly typo.

Edited at 2011-01-23 09:53 pm (UTC)
Maz (or foxxy!): Ooops!tuesdaeschild on January 24th, 2011 10:20 am (UTC)
I think I would have suspected it ;)

When it comes to all things Michael I can't hide anything from you, can I?!! ;)

I wonder who the two other dwarfs would be ^__^

*ponders* Kinky and Cracky? And apparently Disney uses dwarfs and Tolkien uses dwarves...let your inner geek out to play!! ;)

(why, yes, I still have a fangirl crush on Sara ;))

And why not? She is the best leading lady in any TV series ever in my humble little opinion!

Thank you for all of those things too...even if some of them haven't quite happened yet!! ;) *hugs*

Got to love the edit facility!