(no subject)
Title: T-bag's To Do List
Author: miss_mandy
Pairing: T-bag/Killing
Rating: R
Warnings: Graphic violence, death
Author's Notes: Murder and mayhem, that's what you get from me. Well either that or sex. This is a post-escape slight prequel to Payback's A Bitch and you should probably read Visitor and When T-bag Met Maytag first too. (All of them can be found at prisonbreakfic.com) There a bazillion little shout-outs to my various fandoms in it, plus two in-show ones. See if you can spot them all! Also, it's pretty graphic and creepy, but this is T-bag after all (I probably don't even need to say this anymore) so if you don't like it go to Russia. Anyway, on to the story, shall we?
- have a go with Pretty
That one didn’t go quite as he’d planned. Once they’d gotten over the wall and driven to the Firefly Motel, T-bag had been all ready to make Pretty his. Lincoln was the only problem.
T-bag stood with his arms raised defensively, his own weapon now turned against him. Burrows was holding it out at him, threatening T-bag with castration if he didn’t get the hell out of there that second. T-bag doubted ol’ Sink knew a word like “castration”, as he had instead bluntly said he would cut off the pedophile’s dick.
“Easy now…” T-bag said, “I was just goin’ anyway. No need to stick around with this company anymore, now is there?”
He looked in the direction of Sucre who silently seethed.
“Take a hike,” Abruzzi said, then added mockingly, “Don’t let the feds catch you.”
“Oh you better hope they don’t,” T-bag replied, “Cause if any of you should happen to make a phone call, tryin’ to and get me caught and whatnot, I’m gonna tell ‘em exactly where all of you are. And exactly where all of you are heading.”
“You’d never find us,” Sucre argued.
“There’s one thing maybe you never noticed about me, ese. None of you,” T-bag said, “I listen. I know aaaall about Maricruz…Sardinia…Anna…Panama…”
He turned to face Michael as he said the last one. “So you all better play nice and let me go on my merry way. With no interference. Know what I’m sayin’?”
Michael stared him down for a moment, then put his hand on Linc’s arm.
Burrows lowered the shank and T-bag smiled as he leaned towards Michael and whispered in his ear, “It wouldn’t have worked out between us anyway, Pretty.”
He was disappointed to leave without getting a piece of that boy, but he had bigger fish to fry anyway. And not a lot of time to do it in.
- finish with Lexy
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound roused Alex from the couch. It was probably Courtney at the door, she was supposed to come over after she got off work. They were going to have an Orlando Bloom moviefest that night and then Courtney was sleeping over. Alex’s dad was out of town and her mom was working late so they had the whole place to themselves.
“I hope you were able to get Troy because Janice said…”
Alex trailed off as she opened the door and saw the person standing outside. It was definitely not Courtney. Her mouth dropped open in horror and then she quickly tried to shut the door again. Only T-bag was quicker. He jammed his foot in the way and forced himself through. Alex fell backwards onto the floor and hurriedly got up, running towards the kitchen. She passed by the phone, not even bothering to try and call 911. She figured by the time they responded she’d already be dead. Instead she wrenched open the cutlery drawer and pulled out the biggest, sharpest looking knife she could find. But T-bag was already on her, grabbing her hair with one hand and her wrist with the other. She struggled to bring the knife down and back behind her, but he was stronger than her.
“Whatcha gonna do, Lexy?” he whispered in her ear, “Stab me?”
“I will kill you,” she growled, trying to break free from his grip.
T-bag laughed. “Now one of us here is going to die, be sure of that, but I highly doubt it’s going to be me. Now drop it.”
He twisted her wrist violently and she cried out in pain, her hand opening on reflex. The knife clattered to the floor and T-bag whirled her around, pressing against her and pushing her backwards against the kitchen sink.
“That’s a good girl…” he said, reaching up to stroke her hair.
Alex responded by spitting in his face and kneeing him in the groin. T-bag doubled over in pain and she ran by him, this time grabbing the phone off the wall. She ran up the stairs and rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Sitting down on the cold tile floor, she frantically punched in the numbers 911.
“Come on, come on…” she pleaded as it dialed.
She jumped when she heard T-bag throw himself against the door. It shook, but didn’t give way.
“I’m a-comin’ Lexy!” he yelled from outside, “Only a matter of time!”
“911, what’s your emergency?” the female voice asked through the receiver.
“Yes! Please, you have to help me,” Alex said hysterically, “He’s trying to kill me!”
“Ma’am, please calm down. Now you need to tell me your address.”
He slammed into the door again and Alex yelped in surprise.
“167 H-hyperion Avenue…” she replied, “Please, he’s escaped. I-I don’t know how, but he’s out. Please, you have to hurry, he’s going to kill me.”
“Ma’am, who escaped?”
Alex stopped crying as she realized the noise outside the door had stopped. The receiver slid down to her neck as she listened, sniffling, trying to figure out what he was doing.
“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you there?”
Suddenly she heard a scraping sound as the doorknob began to jiggle. She stared at it, her eyes wide, as she brought the receiver up to her mouth.
“Please hurry…” she whispered.
“Don’t worry ma’am, the police are on their way. Just stay calm and…”
Alex didn’t hear the last half of what the woman said as the doorknob clicked and suddenly turned. She jumped to her feet, trying to grab something, anything, she could use as a weapon, but T-bag was already there. He plucked the phone out of her hand as the woman on the other end repeated over and over “Ma’am, are you still there?” He sneered and turned off the phone, before dropping it on the ground.
“You know,” he said, “I was hoping I’d get to enjoy this, make it real slow and painful, but I guess you just ruined that. You just had to get the police involved, didn’t you? Looks like I’ll just have to speed things up a bit.”
He pushed her to the ground and straddled her, pinning her down with his weight. Then he brought his hands up to her neck and wrapped them around her throat, choking her.
“’Bout time I finished what I started,” he said.
Alex clawed uselessly at his arms as she squirmed beneath him. It only served to arouse him further and he groaned as he felt himself getting hard. Her mouth was open, trying to scream, but she could only get out strangled gasps as she fought for air.
“Look at me,” T-bag ordered as he stared into her eyes, “Look at me. Yeah, that’s right.”
Her hands loosened their grip on his arm and then went slack as T-bag squeezed harder.
“You were so full of fire when you came to see me that day,” he mocked, “What happened, Lexy? Oh how you smiled and sneered as you sat on the other side of that glass, telling me how you were all ready to forget me. Well who’s smiling now, huh?”
Alex’s eyes began to close as she felt the world slipping away.
“Who’s smiling now?” T-bag repeated and the words echoed in her ears. They were the last thing she heard, his face the last thing she saw.
He kept his hands on her for a few minutes after she died, then quickly jerked himself off over her body. He had wanted to stay longer, wanted to be inside her, but he knew the cops were on the way and he had to get going. There were still a few things left on the list.
- visit James
- kill Maytag’s family
“I’m going to kill them when I get out,” Maytag said.
He was sitting on the lower bunk of their cell, his sleeve rolled up, staring out past the bars. He dragged a razor blade across his arm, a bright red line appearing on the pale flesh. T-bag watched, amused.
“I’m up for parole in 15,” Maytag continued, “And once I get out of here, I’m going straight back to that house and finishing the rest of them off.”
His voice was deadly calm and he sounded a little scary. He had a faraway look in his eyes as he stared out at the cell across from them, his hand fingering the razor blade.
“You’ll get caught,” T-bag mused, “And then you’ll be in here for life. Just like me.”
He smiled a little at the last part.
“I don’t care,” Maytag said, “They deserve to die. They never…”
He stopped himself, afraid of revealing too much and instead dragged the razor blade across his skin again, creating another cut. A dark line amidst all the pale ones, scars from his previous endeavours.
“Why do you do that?” T-bag asked, sounding truly interested.
Maytag didn’t look at him. “It makes me feel better,” he replied as he raised the razor again.
“Stop,” T-bag ordered and Maytag obeyed, despite the fact he so desperately wanted to push that blade deep into his arm.
He had spent enough time with T-bag now to know that he should always do as he says. He looked up questioningly at the murderer, like a little puppy begging to be allowed to play. That look sent a shiver down T-bag’s spine as he reached over and plucked the blade from Maytag’s fingers. Then he gently took his cellmate’s arm and ran the razor across it himself, dark blood bubbling up from the cut he’d made. Maytag closed his eyes and shuddered.
“Now,” T-bag said, “Why don’t you tell me exactly what you’re going to do once you get out.”
T-bag peered into the window of the Buchanan’s home. There was Mrs. Buchanan in the kitchen, her eldest son, Patrick, standing next to her, helping her clean up. T-bag knew that he visited her every weekend, ever since the death of her husband, which had been so hard for her. He doubted she was losing any sleep over the death of her other son. He watched the two for a moment, when a little girl came down the stairs, dressed in a pink nightie. T-bag licked his lips. It was Calli, Maytag’s 11 year old half-sister.
“He never touched her.”
Maytag’s bitter voice rang in T-bag’s ears as he watched Mrs. Buchanan smile and hug her daughter, telling her to go back to bed.
“She used to get jealous of all the attention he paid to me.”
T-bag slid the knife out from his pocket.
“She was my mom’s favourite.”
T-bag walked up to the front door.
“She would have stopped it if it had been Calli.”
T-bag didn’t waste time with pleasantries as he had at Alex’s house. Instead he skipped knocking and simply burst through the front door and went right on into the kitchen. Mrs. Buchanan screamed and Patrick jumped in front of her, but before he could do anything, T-bag stabbed him in the chest. He plunged the blade into the man’s torso several times, before standing back and letting him fall to the ground. Mrs. Buchanan tried to run past, but T-bag grabbed her and held the blade up to her neck.
“Try anything at all and I will gut you bow to stern,” he threatened, “Now let’s go and visit your pretty little daughter, shall we?”
“Please, don’t hurt her,” Mrs. Buchanan sobbed, “Just take what you want. You can have all our money, just please let us go.”
“Oh but you see you three are what I want,” T-bag replied, then he looked down at Patrick lying on the floor in a pool of blood, “Well, I guess it’s just down to two now.”
He led Mrs. Buchanan up the stairs with the knife pointed at her jugular, pulling the duct tape out of his pocket as he did so. He reached Calli’s room and shoved her inside.
“Mommy?” the little girl asked sleepily as she turned on a bedside lamp and then she shrieked when she saw the two standing before her.
“Now play nice Calli,” T-bag said, “Or I will kill your momma, you understand?”
Calli sat back in her bed and nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“You just do as I say now,” T-bag told her as he began to tape Mrs. Buchanan’s hands behind her back. He slapped a piece of tape over her mouth, then pulled her over to Calli’s bed. T-bag sat next to Calli, the little girl shaking as she stared up into the face of a monster.
“Be a good girl now,” T-bag drawled, then he grabbed her by the hair, tilted back her head and slit her throat.
He could hear Mrs. Buchanan’s muffled screams as Calli fell back onto her pillow, the pink sheets quickly staining red as the little girl’s blood drained from her. She coughed and sputtered, blood spattering her cheeks, trying desperately to breathe. Her hand rested on T-bag’s arm, gripping it tightly, then slowly went slack as more dark red blood dribbled out her mouth and Mrs. Buchanan sobbed against the tape.
T-bag turned to her and got up from the bed as she tried frantically to back away on her knees. T-bag grabbed her neck and leaned down very close to her face, looking into the woman’s eyes.
“This is for Jason,” he said and then he plunged the knife into her stomach.
Mrs. Buchanan’s eyes went wide as T-bag pushed the knife up and then withdrew it, the blade now covered in three people’s blood. Mrs. Buchanan fell over, her body twitching and convulsing as blood spilled from her abdomen. T-bag gave a mocking little wave to her, then tossed the knife on the floor before leaving. He didn’t need it where he was going.
As he made his way down the hall, T-bag stopped at the linen closet and opened the door. He felt around on the top shelf for a moment, pushing aside the ancient board games and a few tacky Christmas ornaments, before finally finding it. He pulled the gun down from the shelf, feeling its weight in his hand as he smiled. It was exactly where Maytag said it would be.
Now there was just one more thing on his list.
- find Abruzzi
Okay, the first one was total plot manipulation because I didn't feel like writing a sex scene and just wanted to get straight to the killin'. I write enough slashy stuff so you can just read one of my other ones to satisfy yourself if you're disappointed.
Also thanks to thelana for the idea on the second to last one.
Author: miss_mandy
Pairing: T-bag/Killing
Rating: R
Warnings: Graphic violence, death
Author's Notes: Murder and mayhem, that's what you get from me. Well either that or sex. This is a post-escape slight prequel to Payback's A Bitch and you should probably read Visitor and When T-bag Met Maytag first too. (All of them can be found at prisonbreakfic.com) There a bazillion little shout-outs to my various fandoms in it, plus two in-show ones. See if you can spot them all! Also, it's pretty graphic and creepy, but this is T-bag after all (I probably don't even need to say this anymore) so if you don't like it go to Russia. Anyway, on to the story, shall we?
- have a go with Pretty
That one didn’t go quite as he’d planned. Once they’d gotten over the wall and driven to the Firefly Motel, T-bag had been all ready to make Pretty his. Lincoln was the only problem.
T-bag stood with his arms raised defensively, his own weapon now turned against him. Burrows was holding it out at him, threatening T-bag with castration if he didn’t get the hell out of there that second. T-bag doubted ol’ Sink knew a word like “castration”, as he had instead bluntly said he would cut off the pedophile’s dick.
“Easy now…” T-bag said, “I was just goin’ anyway. No need to stick around with this company anymore, now is there?”
He looked in the direction of Sucre who silently seethed.
“Take a hike,” Abruzzi said, then added mockingly, “Don’t let the feds catch you.”
“Oh you better hope they don’t,” T-bag replied, “Cause if any of you should happen to make a phone call, tryin’ to and get me caught and whatnot, I’m gonna tell ‘em exactly where all of you are. And exactly where all of you are heading.”
“You’d never find us,” Sucre argued.
“There’s one thing maybe you never noticed about me, ese. None of you,” T-bag said, “I listen. I know aaaall about Maricruz…Sardinia…Anna…Panama…”
He turned to face Michael as he said the last one. “So you all better play nice and let me go on my merry way. With no interference. Know what I’m sayin’?”
Michael stared him down for a moment, then put his hand on Linc’s arm.
Burrows lowered the shank and T-bag smiled as he leaned towards Michael and whispered in his ear, “It wouldn’t have worked out between us anyway, Pretty.”
He was disappointed to leave without getting a piece of that boy, but he had bigger fish to fry anyway. And not a lot of time to do it in.
- finish with Lexy
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound roused Alex from the couch. It was probably Courtney at the door, she was supposed to come over after she got off work. They were going to have an Orlando Bloom moviefest that night and then Courtney was sleeping over. Alex’s dad was out of town and her mom was working late so they had the whole place to themselves.
“I hope you were able to get Troy because Janice said…”
Alex trailed off as she opened the door and saw the person standing outside. It was definitely not Courtney. Her mouth dropped open in horror and then she quickly tried to shut the door again. Only T-bag was quicker. He jammed his foot in the way and forced himself through. Alex fell backwards onto the floor and hurriedly got up, running towards the kitchen. She passed by the phone, not even bothering to try and call 911. She figured by the time they responded she’d already be dead. Instead she wrenched open the cutlery drawer and pulled out the biggest, sharpest looking knife she could find. But T-bag was already on her, grabbing her hair with one hand and her wrist with the other. She struggled to bring the knife down and back behind her, but he was stronger than her.
“Whatcha gonna do, Lexy?” he whispered in her ear, “Stab me?”
“I will kill you,” she growled, trying to break free from his grip.
T-bag laughed. “Now one of us here is going to die, be sure of that, but I highly doubt it’s going to be me. Now drop it.”
He twisted her wrist violently and she cried out in pain, her hand opening on reflex. The knife clattered to the floor and T-bag whirled her around, pressing against her and pushing her backwards against the kitchen sink.
“That’s a good girl…” he said, reaching up to stroke her hair.
Alex responded by spitting in his face and kneeing him in the groin. T-bag doubled over in pain and she ran by him, this time grabbing the phone off the wall. She ran up the stairs and rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Sitting down on the cold tile floor, she frantically punched in the numbers 911.
“Come on, come on…” she pleaded as it dialed.
She jumped when she heard T-bag throw himself against the door. It shook, but didn’t give way.
“I’m a-comin’ Lexy!” he yelled from outside, “Only a matter of time!”
“911, what’s your emergency?” the female voice asked through the receiver.
“Yes! Please, you have to help me,” Alex said hysterically, “He’s trying to kill me!”
“Ma’am, please calm down. Now you need to tell me your address.”
He slammed into the door again and Alex yelped in surprise.
“167 H-hyperion Avenue…” she replied, “Please, he’s escaped. I-I don’t know how, but he’s out. Please, you have to hurry, he’s going to kill me.”
“Ma’am, who escaped?”
Alex stopped crying as she realized the noise outside the door had stopped. The receiver slid down to her neck as she listened, sniffling, trying to figure out what he was doing.
“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you there?”
Suddenly she heard a scraping sound as the doorknob began to jiggle. She stared at it, her eyes wide, as she brought the receiver up to her mouth.
“Please hurry…” she whispered.
“Don’t worry ma’am, the police are on their way. Just stay calm and…”
Alex didn’t hear the last half of what the woman said as the doorknob clicked and suddenly turned. She jumped to her feet, trying to grab something, anything, she could use as a weapon, but T-bag was already there. He plucked the phone out of her hand as the woman on the other end repeated over and over “Ma’am, are you still there?” He sneered and turned off the phone, before dropping it on the ground.
“You know,” he said, “I was hoping I’d get to enjoy this, make it real slow and painful, but I guess you just ruined that. You just had to get the police involved, didn’t you? Looks like I’ll just have to speed things up a bit.”
He pushed her to the ground and straddled her, pinning her down with his weight. Then he brought his hands up to her neck and wrapped them around her throat, choking her.
“’Bout time I finished what I started,” he said.
Alex clawed uselessly at his arms as she squirmed beneath him. It only served to arouse him further and he groaned as he felt himself getting hard. Her mouth was open, trying to scream, but she could only get out strangled gasps as she fought for air.
“Look at me,” T-bag ordered as he stared into her eyes, “Look at me. Yeah, that’s right.”
Her hands loosened their grip on his arm and then went slack as T-bag squeezed harder.
“You were so full of fire when you came to see me that day,” he mocked, “What happened, Lexy? Oh how you smiled and sneered as you sat on the other side of that glass, telling me how you were all ready to forget me. Well who’s smiling now, huh?”
Alex’s eyes began to close as she felt the world slipping away.
“Who’s smiling now?” T-bag repeated and the words echoed in her ears. They were the last thing she heard, his face the last thing she saw.
He kept his hands on her for a few minutes after she died, then quickly jerked himself off over her body. He had wanted to stay longer, wanted to be inside her, but he knew the cops were on the way and he had to get going. There were still a few things left on the list.
- visit James
- kill Maytag’s family
“I’m going to kill them when I get out,” Maytag said.
He was sitting on the lower bunk of their cell, his sleeve rolled up, staring out past the bars. He dragged a razor blade across his arm, a bright red line appearing on the pale flesh. T-bag watched, amused.
“I’m up for parole in 15,” Maytag continued, “And once I get out of here, I’m going straight back to that house and finishing the rest of them off.”
His voice was deadly calm and he sounded a little scary. He had a faraway look in his eyes as he stared out at the cell across from them, his hand fingering the razor blade.
“You’ll get caught,” T-bag mused, “And then you’ll be in here for life. Just like me.”
He smiled a little at the last part.
“I don’t care,” Maytag said, “They deserve to die. They never…”
He stopped himself, afraid of revealing too much and instead dragged the razor blade across his skin again, creating another cut. A dark line amidst all the pale ones, scars from his previous endeavours.
“Why do you do that?” T-bag asked, sounding truly interested.
Maytag didn’t look at him. “It makes me feel better,” he replied as he raised the razor again.
“Stop,” T-bag ordered and Maytag obeyed, despite the fact he so desperately wanted to push that blade deep into his arm.
He had spent enough time with T-bag now to know that he should always do as he says. He looked up questioningly at the murderer, like a little puppy begging to be allowed to play. That look sent a shiver down T-bag’s spine as he reached over and plucked the blade from Maytag’s fingers. Then he gently took his cellmate’s arm and ran the razor across it himself, dark blood bubbling up from the cut he’d made. Maytag closed his eyes and shuddered.
“Now,” T-bag said, “Why don’t you tell me exactly what you’re going to do once you get out.”
T-bag peered into the window of the Buchanan’s home. There was Mrs. Buchanan in the kitchen, her eldest son, Patrick, standing next to her, helping her clean up. T-bag knew that he visited her every weekend, ever since the death of her husband, which had been so hard for her. He doubted she was losing any sleep over the death of her other son. He watched the two for a moment, when a little girl came down the stairs, dressed in a pink nightie. T-bag licked his lips. It was Calli, Maytag’s 11 year old half-sister.
“He never touched her.”
Maytag’s bitter voice rang in T-bag’s ears as he watched Mrs. Buchanan smile and hug her daughter, telling her to go back to bed.
“She used to get jealous of all the attention he paid to me.”
T-bag slid the knife out from his pocket.
“She was my mom’s favourite.”
T-bag walked up to the front door.
“She would have stopped it if it had been Calli.”
T-bag didn’t waste time with pleasantries as he had at Alex’s house. Instead he skipped knocking and simply burst through the front door and went right on into the kitchen. Mrs. Buchanan screamed and Patrick jumped in front of her, but before he could do anything, T-bag stabbed him in the chest. He plunged the blade into the man’s torso several times, before standing back and letting him fall to the ground. Mrs. Buchanan tried to run past, but T-bag grabbed her and held the blade up to her neck.
“Try anything at all and I will gut you bow to stern,” he threatened, “Now let’s go and visit your pretty little daughter, shall we?”
“Please, don’t hurt her,” Mrs. Buchanan sobbed, “Just take what you want. You can have all our money, just please let us go.”
“Oh but you see you three are what I want,” T-bag replied, then he looked down at Patrick lying on the floor in a pool of blood, “Well, I guess it’s just down to two now.”
He led Mrs. Buchanan up the stairs with the knife pointed at her jugular, pulling the duct tape out of his pocket as he did so. He reached Calli’s room and shoved her inside.
“Mommy?” the little girl asked sleepily as she turned on a bedside lamp and then she shrieked when she saw the two standing before her.
“Now play nice Calli,” T-bag said, “Or I will kill your momma, you understand?”
Calli sat back in her bed and nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“You just do as I say now,” T-bag told her as he began to tape Mrs. Buchanan’s hands behind her back. He slapped a piece of tape over her mouth, then pulled her over to Calli’s bed. T-bag sat next to Calli, the little girl shaking as she stared up into the face of a monster.
“Be a good girl now,” T-bag drawled, then he grabbed her by the hair, tilted back her head and slit her throat.
He could hear Mrs. Buchanan’s muffled screams as Calli fell back onto her pillow, the pink sheets quickly staining red as the little girl’s blood drained from her. She coughed and sputtered, blood spattering her cheeks, trying desperately to breathe. Her hand rested on T-bag’s arm, gripping it tightly, then slowly went slack as more dark red blood dribbled out her mouth and Mrs. Buchanan sobbed against the tape.
T-bag turned to her and got up from the bed as she tried frantically to back away on her knees. T-bag grabbed her neck and leaned down very close to her face, looking into the woman’s eyes.
“This is for Jason,” he said and then he plunged the knife into her stomach.
Mrs. Buchanan’s eyes went wide as T-bag pushed the knife up and then withdrew it, the blade now covered in three people’s blood. Mrs. Buchanan fell over, her body twitching and convulsing as blood spilled from her abdomen. T-bag gave a mocking little wave to her, then tossed the knife on the floor before leaving. He didn’t need it where he was going.
As he made his way down the hall, T-bag stopped at the linen closet and opened the door. He felt around on the top shelf for a moment, pushing aside the ancient board games and a few tacky Christmas ornaments, before finally finding it. He pulled the gun down from the shelf, feeling its weight in his hand as he smiled. It was exactly where Maytag said it would be.
Now there was just one more thing on his list.
- find Abruzzi
Okay, the first one was total plot manipulation because I didn't feel like writing a sex scene and just wanted to get straight to the killin'. I write enough slashy stuff so you can just read one of my other ones to satisfy yourself if you're disappointed.
Also thanks to thelana for the idea on the second to last one.