Fic: Numb

[interpretthis]

Title: Numb

Author: interpretthis

Fandom: Prison Break

Pairing: Alex/Michael

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Gen or Slash, whichever you please
WC: 737

Challenge/Prompt: psych_30/Multiple Personality 
Notes: For tweetyiscool29’s Lyrical Lit Challenge in prep for NaNo.  Post "Good Fences".
Summary: Let me believe that I am someone else.

 

Prompt:

“Are you sure of yourself?
Would you lie if you're not?”

- "Put Your Arms Around Me" by Texas

 

                                Michael kept an eye on Alex for the next few days.  The ex-agent’s manic outburst had been just the sickening splash of reality Michael had needed to come to mental terms once more with the man he still dealt with.  Even hopeless and high, Alex Mahone’s mind remained lucid and calculating – it was the added edge of heroin-induced immunity that posed the true risk.

 

                Today he paced frantically, fingers coiling and uncoiling, shivers raking his thin form, soft, agitated pants coming in erratic bursts.  Michael held back at the edge of the cell, peeking through the bars, sure Alex was in no state to notice him.  It was as the man spun on his heel for the tenth or so time that Michael began to doubt himself.  Alex froze and tensed, breaths sharp and heavy, face a tortured mess of paranoia.  Michael stepped in quietly.

 

                “You were watching me.” Alex’s tone was steely.

 

                “Yes.” Michael stared back, expression unassuming – waiting, watching.

 

                “WHY?  WHY WERE YOU WATCHING ME?” Alex’s eyes flashed with violence, dementia, fear – such fear.  His shouts ripped the heavy air like a dagger through flesh.  He hugged himself, fingers grappling at elbows and clutching hard.

 

                “Alex -”

 

                “Don’t act like you give a fuck Michael.” Alex rasped and backed into the grimy wall - heart heavy, mind heavy.  He felt Michael move against him and pushed at him from the inside, willing him away, just away forever – couldn’t he leave? – but Michael’s arms came around him and Alex lost faith in his pitiful interior struggle as he put his last remaining ounce of will into fighting Michael off with fists – punching, kicking.  Dread swept in, settling into his limbs with a leaden, dream-like weight until he couldn’t fight.  Couldn’t move.  He felt sickness swarm in the pit of his stomach.  Wanted Michael’s warm, comforting arms to fall away.  Wanted the boy to leave - just leave him alone - couldn’t he just go?  Michael’s soft cheek pressed against Alex’s own.  The boy’s lips fit to his ear.

 

                “Calm down Alex.  I want to help you.”

 

                A quiet “you don’t” sat in Alex’s throat.  He swallowed it, unwilling to make the effort.  He closed his eyes against the world – against Sona and the young, fated man around him.

 

                “You’re Special Agent Alexander Mahone.  You live in Chicago, Illinois.  You have a wife – Pam - and a boy, Cameron.  You love your job – the thrill, the challenge, the satisfaction – you wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

 

                Alex’s heavy, sapped mind lulled into Michael’s tale and let go.

 

                “It’s light out when you get home.  The air’s sweet and chill.  The grass is clipped and green.  The pavement’s light and chalky.  The second you step inside you feel the springy carpet underfoot.  Hear your son’s laughter and your wife’s voice and -”

 

                “His leg.”

 

                “Shh, Alex.”

 

                “He’s not okay.  I have to help him.  His leg -”

 

                Michael sighed, pity flooding him through.

 

                “He’s fine, Alex.  His leg is fine.  You saved him.  You did that.”

 

                “Oh.” Alex nuzzled into Michael’s neck and pulled him closer.  Michael felt Alex’s heart skim down from a rapid pulsing to a slow and steady beat.  “That’s good.”

 

                “Okay,” Michael took a deep breath and continued.  “You make your way into the kitchen – it’s bright and clean.  Pam’s at the counter, listening to Cam as he reviews his day and eats his macaroni.  He looks up when you enter, eyes bright.  He’s so happy to see you, Alex.  You’re his father.  He loves you.  You sweep him up and hug him and he giggles.  You set him down, ruffle his hair and embrace Pam, giving her a quick kiss.  All is well.  All is perfect…”

 

                Michael shut his eyes against Alex’s neck, trying to preserve the picture of home – not his, maybe, but home all the same.  He felt Alex’s chest rise and fall against his in a steady rhythm and wondered briefly if the other man had nodded off, but Alex quickly squashed that notion with a soft whisper.

 

                “Are you there Michael?”

 

                Michael paused.  Leaned his head against the wall and clasped Alex closer.

 

                “Only if you want me to be.”

 

                Michael’s heart hung in wait, strung up with his still lungs.

 

                “I’d like that.”

 

                The world restarted, brighter than it’d been before, though Michael couldn’t decide whether it was from elation or lack of oxygen.

 

                “Good.  I’m there.  I'm here.”