unsingable name ([info]saestina) wrote,
@ 2006-12-07 18:26:00
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Current location:College Mews
Current mood: happy
Current music:Phantom Moon
Entry tags:fan fiction, prison break

Friar's Lantern (1/1)
Fandom: Prison Break
Summary: This is perfect, he thought, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words aloud.  He was afraid that if he did, he would ruin it somehow.
Spoilers: Season 1

I just wanted to thank you guys for all your great comments on Past Conditional.  They really inspired me to write this piece.  Thanks for the wonderful welcome to the fandom!



Friar’s Lantern
 
“Sara!” he called. “Can you come in here for a second?”
 
“What is it?” he heard her reply from the kitchen. Lincoln and LJ were coming over later, and she had been slaving away at dinner for hours. He’d rarely seen her cook before, but she had been determined to make this meal special and had pulled out all the stops. He had tried to help, despite the fact that his culinary skills extended only so far as dialing the phone for take-out, but she had shooed him away. Old family recipes, she had said. Very secret.
 
You are my family, he had replied, siddling up behind her, kissing away the smear of flour he had discovered on her skin.
 
Not yet I’m not, she had countered as she stirred a creamy yellow substance Michael was unable to identify, an indulgent smile in her voice.
 
Spinning her suddenly around to face him, she had laughed as he picked up her hand, kissing her fingertips, giving special attention to the finger that wore his mother’s ring.
 
You will be soon enough, he had said, drawing her close for a kiss. She tasted like chocolate, so he knew she had been licking the mixing spoon.
 
When he’d pulled away, she had smiled up into his eyes.
 
Michael, she’d said gently.
 
Yes? he’d asked, lips still hovering over hers, arms around her waist, unable to stop touching her for a single moment.
 
Get out.
 
The smell of food now permeated the little apartment they shared, rich and fragrant and more like home than anything he could imagine. He sat in the living room, which was entirely dark except for the twinkling white lights on their Christmas tree and the orange glow of embers from the fireplace, and breathed it in.
 
“I need you for a minute!” he called back. She’d been holed up in the kitchen for over an hour, and he missed her more than he had any reason to. Ever since they’d stopped running, he’d gotten anxious and fearful whenever he was alone for too long. He hated the feeling, the embarrassing and crippling dependency it caused in him, but Sara didn’t seem to mind. She was with him whenever he needed her. Sometimes he still stared at her in awe, hardly believing that she was real.
 
She stepped out of the kitchen, brushing her hands against the dark green apron she wore. 
 
“What is it?” she asked.
 
“Come sit with me?”
 
She smiled. “Of course.”
 
She untied her apron and hung it on the hook just inside the kitchen before crossing into the living room to sink down beside him on the couch. She angled her back into his side, resting her head against his chest, and he draped his arm around her shoulders. She fitted perfectly into him, as though they had been designed to sit together like this their entire lives.
 
“Ooh,” she said, rubbing her hands together briskly. “It’s cold in here.”
 
It wasn’t until she said it that Michael noticed the chill in his bones.
 
“You’re right, let me…” he began, standing up to throw another log onto the dying fire and grab the throw blanket that hung on the back of a chair. He tucked it around her and settled back at her side.
 
“Dinner’s almost ready,” she said, lacing her fingers with his own. 
 
“It smells amazing.”
 
“Maybe there’s hope for me as a domestic woman, after all,” she smiled.
 
He laughed. “I never doubted you.”
 
They sat in companionable silence after that, staring into the fire as it crackled and danced. Somewhere in the distance, someone began to sing. Carole singers, Michael thought.
 
“Are you warm?” he asked her, squeezing her shoulder through the woolen thrown.
 
“Yeah,” she said, turning her head to look up at him. “Are you?”
 
“I am now.”
 
Her lips quirked.
 
“What?” he asked. “Too cheesy?”
 
“Just a little,” she said, reaching up to stroke a hand across his cheek anyway.
 
This is perfect, he thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words aloud. He was afraid that if he did, he would ruin it somehow. Break the spell.
 
“I love you,” he said instead, whispering it into her ear, just in case.
 
“I love you, too,” she replied. “This is perfect.”
 
Somehow, he was unsurprised that she had said exactly the same thing he was thinking. He took her hand in his, silently running his fingers over the lines of her palm. Long life, he thought, happiness, good health. He went back to the ring on her finger, the object that transfixed him whenever he caught sight of it. He had put the ring into a safety deposit box before everything had happened, never daring to think he might have the opportunity to give it to someone. It had fit Sara perfectly the first time she slipped it on, nearly dropping it because her hands were shaking so badly.
 
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden jangling somewhere outside their door.
 
“What’s that?” he asked, turning his head.
 
“Sleigh bells,” she answered without missing a beat. “Have you been good?”
 
“I’ve tried.”
 
She sobered at that, teasing smile slipping from her face as shifted to face him. 
 
“You’ve got to stop punishing yourself, Michael,” she said seriously. “It’s not good for you.”
 
He sighed. “I wish it was that easy,” he replied heavily, unable to quite meet her steady gaze.
 
Rather than try to talk him out of his guilt, knowing it would do no good, she simply gathered him into her arms. He tangled his fingers through her hair as she held him close, the familiar smell of her shampoo inexplicably reassuring and tangible. He could feel her heartbeat against him.
 
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said.
 
“You’ll never have to find out,” was her reply.
 
There was a knock at the door then, and Michael reluctantly pulled away from her, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. 
 
“That must be Linc and LJ,” he said.
 
She stood. “I’ve got to check on dinner. Would you get it?”
 
He nodded, watching her walk back toward the kitchen with his heart in his throat. It’s okay, he told himself firmly.  She’s just in the other room. 
 
He got up to answer the door. As he approached it, a voice called to him from the other side.
 
“Scofield!”
 
He froze and stared at the door, suddenly confused.
 
“Michael, are you going to let them in or not?” Sara teased from the other room.
 
“Come on, Uncle Mike!” he heard LJ crow. “It’s freezing out here!”
 
He shook off the strange feeling that had seized him and reached for the doorknob.
 
“Scofield!”
 
And then he realized, hand hovering in the air, that he wasn’t in his apartment with Sara.
 
That place didn’t exist.
 
“Yard time, Scofield,” Patterson said as the door to his solitary cell, which had been his whole world since he'd been recaptured four months ago, slid open. He shielded his eyes against the sudden onslaught of light, pupils contracting painfully. 
 
“Let’s go,” the CO said. 
 
Michael looked down and realized he was already wearing his winter coat as protection against the frigid temperature of his cell. Devastated, he stepped over the plate of food he hadn’t touched and followed Patterson mutely, listening to the CO’s keys jangle as he walked. They passed the cell of a death row inmate who killed the time waiting for his inevitable death by singing hymns he remembered from when his mother had taken him to church as a boy.
 
When he was back in the dark a half an hour later, Michael closed his eyes and waited impatiently for his sanity to slip away from him again.
 
 
Friar's Lantern (noun):
1. A phosphorescent light that hovers or flits over swampy ground at night.
2. Something that misleads or deludes; an illusion.
 
 
-the end.








(21 comments) - (Post a new comment)


[info]xlightof_love
2006-12-07 07:00 pm UTC (link)
Wow, that was really beautifully done. I love how carefully you chose the title, too. I'm such a sucker for a good story with a good title (probably because I have a hard time coming up with meaningful ones). Stories like this where the perfect fairytale ending is later realized as a fantasy or a dream always make me a little sad but I think it really brings a sense of realism to what has been written and it also leaves the reader with a bit of hope for the character's future where there might not be a sense of hope otherwise.

Sorry, I'm rambling...but...yes, great job!

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[info]saestina
2006-12-07 07:24 pm UTC (link)
Thanks so much for commenting, I really appreciate it. I usually have a really difficult time with titles too (which is why I end up naming stories after things like verb tenses) so I was pretty pleased when I stumbled onto this one totally by chance. I just hope not too many people know what friar's lantern is, because it would kind of ruin it!

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[info]xlightof_love
2006-12-07 09:02 pm UTC (link)
There are probably people more cultured than myself who might know what it is, but I certainly didn't. LOL. Therefore, nothing was given away and I was really surprised by the end! But I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who struggles with titles sometimes. What you call a story can really make a difference, you know?

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Interesting
(Anonymous)
2006-12-07 08:08 pm UTC (link)
Wow I really liked that!

I didn't understand why you said Season 1 for spoilers but then I got it at the end! Very clever and I didn't see it coming!

I really liked how Michael wouldn't want her too far away, his dependence on her. I think that could happen.

I think Sara is pretty independent but I can totally see them not wanting to let go of each other.

Awesome story and liked the Christmas tone!

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[info]happywriter06
2006-12-07 09:52 pm UTC (link)
I'm been having a lot of slow moments lately so I don't get the spoilers for season 1. I'm sure they are perfectly obvious but as I said, I'm slow this week. I blame my dog for waking my husband and I up every morning between 2-4am. But I digress.

I liked it. Very sweet.

(Reply to this) (Thread)


[info]saestina
2006-12-07 09:55 pm UTC (link)
The spoiler is just that they escaped prison. It's barely even worth noting, really, but I figured I'd be on the safe side just in case.

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[info]captaincatapult
2006-12-07 10:08 pm UTC (link)
Nooooooooo. I'm pretending it was real. You're a good writer!

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[info]therathasspoken
2006-12-07 10:56 pm UTC (link)
don't think i don't love you but YOU BITCH! why couldn't it be real?? why???

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(Anonymous)
2006-12-08 12:32 am UTC (link)
Okay, see, at first I just thought this fic was really good and interesting with its twist ending, but then I went back and read it again and DAMN! There are so many more things going on than what you process the first time when you don't know its all a hallucination. How he can't have hallucination!Sara away from him too long because he's actually freaked out by being alone in the dark of his cell, how he reinterprets all of the sounds even when it doesn't make any sense. SO GOOD.

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[info]lilywashere
2006-12-08 03:08 am UTC (link)
Ooooooo! I really liked this! I was totally fooled at the beginning

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[info]rosie_spleen
2006-12-08 05:11 am UTC (link)
Very nice and as another comment mentioned, a beautifully chosen title.

The themes of Christmas, cooking and family were wonderfully interwoven throughout this and the whole idea of Michael and insanity is very relevant.

A great job, well done

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[info]jenaben
2006-12-08 05:48 am UTC (link)
Oh gosh, I love this. The idea that Michael would want to keep Sara (or anyone) close is so realistic after what he's experienced so far on the show, especially given what the other characters have endured when they weren't with him. This idea resonates throughout the story, but is especially poignant in the end when you realize that he can't keep them close anymore. I adored the interwoven hints that everything wasn't as it seemed: Michael's fear of the dark, the fact that he's waiting to eat, etc. The line “Sleigh bells,” she answered without missing a beat. “Have you been good?” absolutely killed me when I re-read it because there's that little hint of forshadowing in her reply, the way she answers so quietly but it doesn't quite fit, and then the 'have you been good' resonating perfectly with the fact that Michael is back in prison. Wow, I'm really rambling now, but I really do love this piece. Great job!

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[info]jenaben
2006-12-08 05:49 am UTC (link)
Oops, I meant quickly, not quietly!

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(Anonymous)
2006-12-08 11:59 am UTC (link)
wow. this fic is like an exercise in spotting the subtext. the second time i read it (and i agree with the above comment, you definitely have to read it a second time to get the full effect) the line that jumped out at me was:

Somehow, he was unsurprised that she had said exactly the same thing he was thinking.

i remember i thought it was an odd moment the first time around, but then it made sense. of course she could say the same think he's thinking, because she too is just something he's thinking. great read.

(Reply to this)

Oh how I love this story...
(Anonymous)
2006-12-08 09:54 pm UTC (link)
This is so creative. It reminds me so much of "The Sixth Sense" in how you recognize the subtext the second time you read it. Loved the jangling keys = sleigh bells, the inmate singing = caroling, etc. The whole idea of Michael's sanity slipping away is heart-breaking, but if it had to happen (and I have no doubt that it would if he were in solitary that long) I would hope his mind would go to a happy place like you created for him.

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[info]tearcreek
2006-12-09 05:59 am UTC (link)
I'm really really really shaking here because it came as a shock... the entire thing.

You are shaking up the fics here... seriously awesome work. Brilliant... can I recc... again??? :D

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[info]saestina
2006-12-09 10:56 am UTC (link)
Of course! Thanks so much!!

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[info]am_sr
2007-02-05 07:24 pm UTC (link)
precioso, como muchael se imagina su visa con sarah, la conexion que tienen uno con el otro, como seria su parte domestica, pero esta en la yarda y le despiertan, que le vamos a hacer

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[info]saestina
2007-02-05 07:34 pm UTC (link)
¡gracias mucho!

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[info]arzim
2008-06-14 03:30 am UTC (link)
Wow, did this give me the chills!

I reread and re-reread this and the scope of the subtext just overwhelmed me--brilliantly, brilliantly done.

he’d gotten anxious and fearful whenever he was alone for too long. He hated the feeling, the embarrassing and crippling dependency it caused in him, but Sara didn’t seem to mind.

Once you realize that he's locked away in a dark cell, this becomes heartrendingly sad. Wow.

They sat in companionable silence after that, staring into the fire as it crackled and danced. Somewhere in the distance, someone began to sing. Carole singers, Michael thought.

And the death row inmate singing.... Agh! I love the idea of Michael's subconscious incorporating the stimuli around him into his fantasy, sort of unconsciously explaining away things that don't fit. You had more of that here:

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden jangling somewhere outside their door.

“What’s that?” he asked, turning his head.

“Sleigh bells,” she answered without missing a beat. “Have you been good?”


This was chilling! This along with the line about "Michael was unsurprised that Sara was thinking the same thing" (or whatever it was) set off the tingle of something isn't quite right here in my brain reading it for the first time and it was absolutely jarring to realize that my subconscious had been right.

Don't have the words to tell you how much I like this. Awesome work!

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[info]saestina
2008-06-14 05:36 pm UTC (link)
Aww, thanks so much! You picked up every single thing I was going for in that story, which is so great for me to hear.

You are totally my new favourite person, your check's in the mail. :)

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