Sick in Sona (Prison Break, sick!Michael)

[Sophie<3]

Hey guys!

You know how they say to "Be the change you want to see in the world" ? Well, I definitely want to see more Prison Break fics on here, so I decided to write one myself!

I don't know how many people on here even watch that show, but I hope that somebody will enjoy it! And feedback would also be really helpful, as this is my first Prison Break fic.

Love you guys! Hope somebody has fun with this story!

Summary: Michael comes down with a cold in Sona, one of the most dangerous prisons in the world. He knows that if somebody finds out, he's done, so he tries to hide it.

Spoilers: This story is basically an alternative version of the episode "Orientación", the first episode of Season 3. So spoilers for Season 1 and 2.

Warnings: language...

Sick in Sona

Michael Scofield knew that there were bad times to get sick. For example, in prison, while trying to bust out your on-death-row brother. Then, there were even worse times to get sick, for example while on the run with said brother as part of the Fox River Eight, the most wanted men in the United States. And then, there were the worst, most horrible, catastrophic times to get sick, for example in Sona, the infamous prison in Panama, stacked with cons so violent that even the guards had decided to haul ass and leave the inmates to themselves.

Michael couldn't tell exactly when the congestion had started to settle in his sinuses. All he knew was that it had been at least a few hours and that he was getting worse by the minute.

The fact that his clothes were still soaked from the rain earlier that day didn't help much, either. If he'd had a choice, Michael would have known better than to go out to the yard into the soaking rain, but he had realized that here, in Sona, one thing was to be his number one priority: his reputation.

If the other cons didn't respect him, he was done. He probably wouldn't even survive the night. So he had to toughen it out, try to fly under the radar and if that didn't work out, work on his reputation as a tough guy who you wouldn't want to mess with. It was his only chance of survival in this rat hole.

For now, he was still pursuing Plan A, namely flying under the radar and avoiding to draw attention to himself by all means. That was much easier said than done, though, especially as a new inmate and one of the very few white guys in Sona. Currently, Michael was leaning against one of the walls in the corridor adjacent to the yard with his hood pulled up, trying to watch everything without being seen. He tried to be completely silent, like a ghost, but there was one problem.

“Huh....Etshh'nnkk!”

He turned away to sniffle and wipe his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. His nose had been runny for a while now and the sneezing had started about an hour ago. The itch in his sinuses simply wouldn't leave, especially not with him stifling his sneezes the best he could, in order not to get noticed. As he had already established, this was the absolute worst time and place to catch a cold. He needed to keep up the tough guy image to survive, because the people surrounding him were like wild dogs. If they smelled fear or weakness, they would attack. And in his current state, Michael knew that he didn't stand a chance.

“Eh...” His breath hitched again suddenly and Michael turned to the side, trying to hide his face from everyone, while pinching his nose with his right hand. It didn't help. He took a few shallow breaths, but the tickle wasn't going to leave any time soon, so he just bend down for a moment, pretending to tie his shoe laces (which was pretty damn risky by itself) while at the same time covering his face with his elbow to stifle the sound of the sneezes. “Huh'Inn'gg! Hhhh...chh'nkk!”

It hurt. His head felt like it was going to explode. He came back up slowly, got dizzy, but tried not to let it show, and just leaned against the wall behind him for support. He felt his nose start to run again and tried to sniffle as quietly as possible. Right then, a few guys walked by him. One scrutinized him and said something in Spanish that Michael didn't understand. The other two turned their heads as well and started laughing.

“Keep walking, amigos”, Michael said, trying to steady his voice.

They responded in Spanish, laughed some more and finally left. Michael let out a sigh, relieved that he'd dogded a bullet here. The three hadn't seemed particularly dangerous, but – he reminded himself – everyone inside these walls was dangerous.

For a moment, Michael considered going into his cell to lie down, because he was cold and exhausted and could really use a nap. Of course, he decided against it in the next second. Going to sleep in the early afternoon was probably the equivalent of suicide in a place like this. He'd be such an easy target. Assault, rape... even murder... one of the three would be a given if he let his guard down now. Even though rape was probably the most likely...

“Huh'eeeh'gng!”

Besides, he probably wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. Not if the sneezing didn't stop...

Suddenly, Michael noticed that he was shivering and attributed it to his soaked clothes. Or... was he possibly starting a fever? Because that was one more thing he couldn't use, at all. Michael hated fevers. He liked being in control, and with fevers... he often got hallucinations and nightmares and all kinds of freaky stuff. Also (Linc was the only person who knew this about him) fevers made him a lot more likely to cry for some reason, and if he was going to get whiny in Sona, he might as well just make a run for it and go down in a storm of bullets, because that would most likely be more pleasant that what the other cons had in store for a cry baby.

Somebody passed him. Michael averted his eyes. He didn't want to cause any trouble, but trouble usually found him anyway. When he felt like nobody was looking at him, Michael risked to rub his nose quickly. It had been the wrong thing to do. Instead of relieving the tickle, it only set him off again.

“Huh'ETchh! Heh'Ekkshh'ngg! Heh'NGgkk!”

He desperately tried to stifle the sound, but it was getting harder and harder. Michael cursed inwardly. He knew how it was with colds. At first, it was just the runny nose. Then came the itch to bestow those plentiful, but low-intensity sneezes on him. Next, the sneezes usually started growing louder and more forceful. He was at that stage now. And since it was in Michael's blood to analyze everything, even the progression of his own colds, he knew that at some point it would be impossible to stifle his sneezes.

“Huh'EKKSh!”

Yes, it was definitely getting harder already. They were also growing wetter, but Michael figured that it didn't make a big difference, since his sweatshirt was already soaked anyway.

Suddenly, another group of men appeared right in front of him. Again, Michael avoided eye contact, but it didn't help. They kept walking towards him.

“Hey, snowflake!”, the tallest of them, a Hispanic man with greasy hair said. This reminded Michael of C-Note and for a brief moment he wondered how the man was doing... Then, he quickly reminded himself that the fact that this guy was using the same nickname for him as C-Note meant nothing and was definitely no reason to feel sympathy towards him. The guy would probably try to kill him as soon as he turned around.

Michael said nothing, both because he was hoping to appear mysteriously silent and because he didn't trust his voice at this point in time. His throat had been a bit sore for a while now and he hadn't had the chance to test his voice.

“Hey!” The man took a threatening step towards him. His broad-shouldered side-kicks followed.

“Snowflake! Can you talk?! Talk!”

Michael didn't flinch. The guy was definitely disrespecting his personal space, he was practically in Michael's face, but Michael wasn't going to be the one to take a step back.

He cleared his throat quietly, then said: “Will talking to you be worth my while?”

Damn it, his voice definitely sounded a bit husky. A perceptive person would notice that something was bothering his throat. Hopefully, the guy in front of him wasn't the perceptive type.

His eyes narrowed at Michael's snarky reply. “Save the sass”, he growled. “Won't help you in here, snowflake. If we want your ass, we get your ass. You understand?”

Michael understood. But that guy and him were in some sort of staring contest now and he wasn't going to be the first to blink. “Here's the deal”, he said, cursing inwardly at how raspy his voice sounded. “You don't give me any trouble, I don't give you any.”

The guy cocked his head disdainfully and smiled a crooked smile. “I know who you are, Scofield! You think you're hot shit somehow, don't you? But I must say, after everything I've heard on the news about you, meeting you face to face like this is... how do you say it... underwhelming.”

Michael wasn't in the mood to be insulted. Well, he rarely was, but right now the tickle in the back of his nose was getting stronger again, so he needed this conversation to be over. And sooner rather than later.

“Are we done here?”, he asked, making an effort to keep the shakiness out of his voice. He wasn't scared. Well, not really. But keeping his voice steady while a sneeze was building up was something he'd never been able to do.

“What's the matter?”, the guy hissed. “You think you're better than me? You think you're some tough guy? That's hilarious.”

“We can... seh....” Oh, fuck. His voice was catching again. Not good. Not good at all! Michael bit his lip and held his breath. Then, he whispered in a tone that he hoped sounded threatening: “... settle this some other time.”

“You bet, snowflake”, the guy said and his obnoxious grin widened. Then, he waved his hand dismissively, giving his boys the okay for a graceful exit.

As soon as they had walked around the corner, Michael couldn't hold it in any longer. “Huh'Eshh'ah!! Huh... huh'EtchhHH!”

It felt good to let it out, but after the quick double, he immediately started looking around hectically. It seemed as if nobody had noticed, but he couldn't be sure. Anyway, he could feel himself deteriorate. His nose was running almost constantly now, the sneezes were growing more forceful, as expected, and he was freezing. He couldn't be seen like this. It was time to casually walk inside and... as much as he hated thinking this... go hide somewhere.

Plan A obviously hadn't worked out. Operation 'flying under the radar' had failed. And Plan B didn't seem like much of an option, either, at this point. Nobody was really buying the tough guy thing at the moment. Or even if they did, it only pissed them off even more.

Inside these walls, a quick glance, a smile... almost anything could be interpreted as a form of provocation. But Michael wasn't exactly fit to fight anybody right now.

He walked towards his cell casually, looking only at the space right in front of his feet, but watching his surroundings from the corner of his eye.

As his brother, Lincoln, had remarked recently, Michael Scofield didn't take a piss without a plan, and right now, he didn't have a plan and that caused panic in the form of a lump to build up in the back of his throat. Or maybe it was just congestion, but really, that wouldn't be much of an improvement, either.

Michael sniffled wetly. He suspected that if he talked now, he wouldn't be able to properly pronounce words that contained 'n's or 'm's. People would definitely notice that. Blowing his nose would be nice.

Maybe that was an idea he could work with. Getting tissues for his nose. That was a plan, right? Or at least it felt like one. Okay, where was he going to get tissues? Right, not anywhere in Sona.

Was there any substitute for tissues? Of course, toilet paper! He knew where the bathrooms were. They were absolutely disgusting, of course, but... “Huh'Atchhh'nng!”... he needed the toilet paper.

Some heads were turned as he walked down to the bathrooms, sniffling frantically, then covering his face behind his arm.

The person he found cleaning the bathrooms was the last person he wanted to see right now. Brad Bellick. Michael remembered vividly the things he had done to him during his time in Fox River, especially the way he'd allowed his toes to get cut off and later stepped on the injured foot with his boot. The pain had been nauseating.

Of course, that had been back when Bellick had had power over other people, unlike now, where he was the person to scrub the Sona toilets. Michael knew that seeing Bellick, all desperate and pathetic right in front of him, should be satisfying to him somehow, but he was way too tired to feel any sort of malicious pleasure right now. Besides, he had never been one to gloat.

“Move”, he groaned and shoved Bellick aside.

“Scofield”, Bellick growled, glaring daggers at him. He didn't say anything else, though. There really wasn't much to say for him in his current situation.

Michael didn't acknowledge him, just kept walking into one of the stalls. He found a roll of toilet paper that looked clean enough and shoved some of the paper into his pocket, because he sure as hell wasn't going to blow his nose while Bellick was within earshot. Nobody inside this prison should find out about his cold, especially not Bellick, who always used other people's weaknesses to his own advantage.

Unfortunately, when he was just about to leave the stall, his nose started tickling again. He panicked for a second, then realized that there was a way Bellick wouldn't hear it. He took one shaky breath and then quickly flushed the toilet with one hand, while pressing the other one over his nose and mouth, hoping that the sound of the toilet flushing would drown out the sound of his stifled sneeze.

Then, he quickly wiped his nose with a sheet of toilet paper and left the stall again, pushing aside Bellick, who stared after him, but didn't say anything.

On the way to his cell, Michael realized how tired he really was. His eyes were burning, as were his sinuses. And on top of that, he was still shivering. He needed to get out these wet clothes. Maybe, he could change really quickly in his cell and finally blow his nose, too.

But when he got to his cell, somebody was already there, waiting for him.

“Hello, Michael”, Alexander Mahone said in his you-can-trust-me voice.

'Trust you... my ass', Michael thought. “Bahone. What do you waddt?” Shit! He was way too stuffed-up to talk.

Mahone raised one eyebrow and Michael closed his eyes for a second, wishing he was somebody else, somewhere else. Even being back at Fox River seemed preferable to this.

“I just want to talk to you, Michael”, Mahone said. He didn't say anything about Michael's voice, but Michael noticed how the agent's eyes scanned him quickly and probably found the pearls of sweat on his forehead and his pale skin and flushed cheeks and chapped lips and red nose... This kind of circumstantial evidence was definitely enough for a man like Mahone, so Michael knew that he was busted.

“I'b dot idd the bood for talkigg...” Fuck. He really needed to choose his sentences more carefully and avoid all those stupid words with 'm's and 'n's.

“I understand”, Mahone said, still friendly. A bit too friendly, in Michael's opinion. The guy was a master of manipulation. It was what he had been trained to do. He sat down on Michael's bed casually, as if they were just two friends chatting in a friendly setting.

“Ending up here... it wasn't what you wanted, I know that, Michael. It sure as hell wasn't what I wanted, either. I guess we're just both in a tough spot now, right?”

Tough spot. Oh, yes. His nose was itchy again. He was breathing through his mouth now. Mahone had most likely noticed.

“What... do... you... wadd?” Michael noticed how tired he sounded.

Mahone smiled his signature smile. “I just want to help you, Michael. Because I think it's time we help each other. At least for a while, at least while we're in here.”

Michael sniffled without even thinking about it. Then, he closed his eyes and when he opened them again, he stared right at Mahone. “Get. Out.”

Mahone raised his eyebrows again and wouldn't stop smiling. “I'm sorry, Michael. I can't. And neither can you. There's no getting out of here. That's exactly my point.”

Before Michael could say anything, a sneeze caught him off guard. “Huh'ESHhh'uuhh!!” When the second one came around, he had at least gained back enough control to half-stifle it. “Ettch'NGG!”

Mahone smiled sweetly. “Bless you, Michael.”

Michael only wiped his nose with his sleeve and glared at him. “Beat it.”

He had tried to make it sound threatening, but who was he kidding, he sounded pathetic with that strained, husky cold-voice.

Mahone cocked his head slightly and lowered his voice a little. “You don't sound too good.”

“It's dodd of your busidess”, Michael snapped. Much to his annoyance, Mahone only chuckled.

“Caught a cold, huh? That sucks.” He nodded towards the space behind Michael. “Especially in here.”

Michael didn't say anything. He just wanted Mahone to leave, so he could blow his nose. Drops of water were forming and dripping off his sleeves now.

“And you're soaked, too”, Mahone stated now as a response to the dripping noise.

“Statigg the obvious dow, are we?”

Mahone smiled again. “I can tell that you're angry, Michael, but you need to realize something: You don't have any friends in here. I'm offering to be your friend and you're not in the position to turn that offer down.”

Michael took a shaky breath. “You add I... will dnever be friedds!”

It would have probably sounded more impressive without his hoarse voice and the congestion.

Mahone laughed. “Let's see how long it takes for you to change your mind. I'll be back.”

Finally, he got up. “Dod't be”, Michael whispered, as he walked by him. “I wod't changge by bind.”

Mahone turned to him and gave him a long, piercing look. When he talked, his voice sounded almost warm. “You're sick, Michael. You need me right now, more than I need you.”

“I dod't deed help frob the mbad who burdered by father!”

Mahone only chuckled again. “Blow your nose, Michael.”

Then, he left. As much as he hated doing what Mahone had told him to do, Michael sat down on his bed, checked to see if he was alone and finally blew his nose with a gurgling sound. He felt a little less congested afterwards, but after just a few minutes, his nose was starting to fill up again.

He sat on his bed, head in his hands, and thought of Sara. She was both a doctor and the only woman he'd ever loved. She would be so helpful right now in so many ways. But he had no idea where she was. He would pray to God that she was okay, but he wasn't really the praying type.

Besides, his prayer would have been interrupted constantly anyway by his sneezes. They just wouldn't stop coming. “Heh'USshh'ehh! Hnng'GESHh! Huh... huh... YISHH'ew!”

He hated how strong they were getting. It was pretty much impossible to stifle them at this point, just as he had predicted. Sooner or later, somebody would hear him.

And just a few minutes later, another familiar person showed up in his cell. T-Bag.

“Howdy, pretty”, he greeted enthusiastically. Inwardly, Michael let loose a string of swear words.

First Bellick, then Mahone, now T-Bag. Things couldn't get much worse.

“Not in the mood to talk.” Oh, good. Those 'm's and 'n's were almost coming out right again...

T-Bag made a face. “Aww, what's the matter, pretty? You feeling down...?”

“Just...” Damn it. All he could do was turn to the side and bury his face in the crook of his elbow. “Heh'ISHH!”

T-Bag looked amused more than anything else. “Gee. Bless ya, pretty.”

“Shut up.”

Michael didn't like the way T-Bag's tongue was slipping in and out of his mouth. “Now that just ain't no way to talk to an old friend”, T-Bag said, mock-scolding Michael.

Michael didn't say anything. Maybe he could wait this one out.

“Now... tell me, Michael...” He was doing the tongue thing again. Frankly, it was irritating. “Do you reckon your brother still has that bag you took from me?”

“Tell you what”, Michael said, then cleared his throat. Talking was starting to really hurt. “Maybe, if you leave me alone now and promise not to bother me ever again as long as we're in here, Linc and I will let you have your share of the money. Maybe.”

“Sounds good enough to me”, T-Bag said. “I believe we can...”

But Michael never heard what T-Bag believed they could do, because T-Bag was cut off by another round of harsh sneezes from Michael.

“Aw, what's the matter? Pretty, you don't happen to be... under the weather?” T-Bag grinned maliciously and Michael considered getting up and punching him in the face for just a second. Then, he remembered that all he wanted was T-Bag out of his cell.

“I appreciate the concern, but I feel great, not to worry”, he said in his typical low almost-a-whisper tone of voice.

“Well, if you say so... You just make sure your brother keeps that bag safe.”

“Will do. If you leave now”, Michael groaned and finally, T-Bag retreated.

Michael took a deep breath. He felt miserable. He was shivering violently now, so he closed the door and changed as quickly as he could, but even in dry clothes, he couldn't get warm. Soon, he'd used up all of the toilet paper, so he needed to recycle it, which wasn't exactly pleasant. A dark patch quickly formed on the sleeve of his new, dry sweatshirt, because he used it to wipe his runny nose automatically.

He still tried to stifle his sneezes, because he could never be sure who was walking by his cell behind that door and T-Bag and Mahone knowing about his cold were two too many already.

He had no idea how much time had passed, when somebody opened the door and told him he had a visitor. Linc, it must be Linc, Michael thought, but his brain was all foggy, which wasn't good, because he needed to pull himself together before meeting Linc. If his brother knew he was sick, sick in Sona, he would freak out and probably get himself killed trying to bust Michael out.

No, Linc couldn't know. He was probably worried sick as it was. (Hopefully he wasn't actually sick like Michael, though...)

Michael blew his nose thoroughly one more time, then stepped out of his cell and out of the building, onto the small yard that was supposed to be the visiting area. Sure enough, there was Linc, on the other side of the fence.

“Hey, man”, he greeted his younger brother with a weak smile.

Michael, not sure if he could trust his voice at the moment, simply nodded and returned the smile.

“So...”, Linc said, shifting uncomfortably. “How are you doing?”

Michael blinked, trying hard to get his eyes to focus on Linc. He was dizzy again suddenly. And shivering even in these dry clothes.

“Alright”, he said, but his voice exposed the fact that he was lying right away.

Linc flinched at the sound of it and frowned. “What's wrong?”

Michael sniffled automatically and shrugged. “'s nothing.”

Lincoln was staring at him through the holes in the fence. “It's supposed to be hell on earth in there. So honestly, how are you holding up?”

Michael shrugged. “Just trying...” He had to stop and clear his throat before he could talk again. “Trying to stay out of trouble, I guess.”

Linc nodded thoughtfully. “That's good, man, that's good...”

“Hey”, Michael started. “Have you heard anything from....?”

“Sara?” Linc looked down at his feet, sadly. “Nothing. Sorry.”

Michael nodded, feeling close to tears suddenly. Fuck! Was he running a fever now, too?!

“Hey”, Linc said urgently as soon as he looked up and saw the exp<b></b>ression on his younger brother's face. “It's gonna be okay, Michael! We'll find her. I'm sure she's fine. It's gonna be okay!”

Michael nodded. Then, he had to turn to the side. The sneezes came on too quickly to hold them back. “Huh'YISHH'ahh! Heh'ESHhhh!! Ughh...!”

He sniffled again, took a deep breath and turned back to Linc slowly. His big brother looked just as shocked as Michael had feared.

“Damn it, Michael, what's wrong?!”, he demanded.

“Nothing, Linc, 's noth...”

“You're sick! Fuck!”

“Yeah”, Michael nodded, realizing that he wasn't going to fool his brother. “Fuck.”

“When did it start? You sound horrible! And... are you... sweating and shivering at the same time? Fuck! Are you running a fever, Michael?”

“Looks like...” He sniffled pathetically. “I know. I'm screwed.”

“No! Michael, no! Don't say that!”

“Why not? It's true.”

“Stop it! I'm getting you out of there, I swear to God! I already started to arrange a transfer. Michael.” He looked him deep in the eye, pleading. “Just hang in there, okay? One more day. For me.”

Michael nodded, feeling more worn-out than he had in ages. “Okay, Linc. I'll try.”

“Thank you.”

With that, Michael left. Walking away from his brother and back into the hellhound's cave was painful, but Michael remembered the words he'd told Linc so many times. Have a little faith.

The last time, he had busted out his brother. Now it was Linc's turn to do the same for him. And all he could do was trust that Linc would get him out and... have a little faith.

THE END

Edited August 25, 2014 by Sophie<3

[beatlelover22]

Worried LINK? That's adorable... and the last line, "have a little faith". God, you're trying to kill me! xD This is wonderful, I hope you write some more PB fics!! For some reason, I really like Mahone's character! Haha!

[ID2006]

Just started watching this again, very excited to read sick Michael.

[Sophie<3]

Worried LINK? That's adorable... and the last line, "have a little faith". God, you're trying to kill me! xD This is wonderful, I hope you write some more PB fics!! For some reason, I really like Mahone's character! Haha!

Aw, beatlelover! (: Thank you so much! I'm really glad you enjoyed this! I'm totally on a PB kick right now, so I'll most likely write more of these! In fact, I already have an idea for another story with a sick Michael and a worried Linc!

Hm... Mahone. He's attractive, in a way. I really know what you mean, but personally I just can't get past the fact that he killed Michael and Linc's father, you know?

Anyway, thanks again for leaving a comment! You totally made my day! (:

Just started watching this again, very excited to read sick Michael.

Yay! More Prison Break people on here!! Thanks a lot for leaving a comment! (:

[party_girl077]

This is my favourite fic, love it! I like the part with t-bag

[Sophie<3]

This is my favourite fic, love it! I like the part with t-bag

Omg, another Prison Break fan!! Yay! And thank you so much for reading and commenting! I'm really glad you liked it!