4

„What now?" Lincoln mumbled lazily. His fingers stroked through silky black hair.

„Mmh… I want to go south." Michael rubbed his cheek against Lincoln's. „I want hot showers every day without time limit." Warm hands slid under Lincoln's shirt, slowly drawing small circles. „I want to swim in the ocean and dry in the sun." His head fell forward and he hid his face in the coarse grey material of the shirtsleeve. „And I want proper food."

Lincoln smiled and pressed a kiss to his brother's temple. This was Michael's way of saying Fox River had been like hell. Lincoln sighed. His little brother went through hell for him. For him. For a second he closed his eyes and held his breath in order to contain the tremors in his own breast. His hand softly stroked Michael's neck.

„You will have it all. I promise. What else d'you want, Mikey?"

„Clean clothes. For you, too. You stink."

„Thanks," Lincoln snorted, part of him being thankful for getting rid of the sentimental mood.

„And it'd be nice to get away from these fucking cold tiles for starters."

Lethargy gave way to dismay. Hastily Lincoln yanked Michael away from the wall and embraced him. He rubbed the icecold back with his huge hands. „Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry." Michael huddled with closed eyes against him and purred like a cat. He looked relaxed now, his face sporting a blissful expression.

One more kiss to the temple, another on Michael's ear. Then Lincoln's eyes caught on the wound on the shoulder which he had completely forgotten during past few minutes. It was still bright red and glistening. Oh god, it looked awful. He dared to glance at the tiles and his stomach clenched. Smeared blood everywhere. Damn, what did he have a brain for if he didn't use it?

„Shit! Michael, your shoulder. I… I'm sorry. I was too rough."

„Shut up, Linc, s'not that bad," Michael slurred into Lincoln's sweaty shirt.

„Fuck, I was way too brutal. Why didn't you say anything? It shouldn't have --"

„Linc." Michael freed himself with resolution.

„I'm so sorry, Mike. I should've taken care! I…"

„Linc! Stop the guilt." Michael winked. „Freaking out is my job, remember?" Lincoln rolled his eyes. He was just about to respond that this stupid heroism got on his nerves, when Michael kissed him softly on the mouth. „It's okay," he said. „It was exactly the way I wanted it."

„But…"

„Shhht. No buts. I've got you back, that's all that matters. We'll leave this hole now, floor the throttle, and in the evening we'll find some place that has actual hot water. And," he added because he sensed another ‚but' coming, „we'll be stopping for some antiseptic and bandages."

There was one whole minute of silence. Lincoln looked his brother in the eye, and for the first time in a very long time he felt something akin to optimism. He looked into the future, not back on the past.

„We made it, Mike, didn't we? We're free now."

With a small smile Michael answered: „No, not quite. But soon."

.

.

END