Catch and Release

Alexander's affair with Billy was only supposed to be a one night thing. Less of an affair and more of a booty call. One time, no strings, just one night of sex before they moved back into life.

That had been Alexander's intentions.

Billy, though, seems to have different expectations.

He doesn't leave the next morning after Alexander tells him to. On waking, Alexander thanks Billy for the night and asks him to see himself out, since he has a busy day of fugitive catching. Instead, the kid makes him coffee, cooks breakfast, and plays host to Pam, who has shown up quite unexpectedly. Then, after another round in bed, Alexander leaves for work, only to find Billy still there when he gets back. Waiting with Chinese take-out on the table and beer in the fridge.

And so, Billy stays. Unexpectedly, but not unwelcome. He's a good fuck. He's funny. He's a good conversationalist. He's cute as hell and, for reasons Alexander will never be able to understand, Billy is attracted to him. More than just physically.

He stays.

Alexander works. He catches Benjamin Miles Franklin. Gets someone else to make the actual collar so he's not forced to kill anyone. Franklin is back in prison before Alexander is in the same vicinity, and all he can do is pump for information about Scofield and Burrows.

Franklin knows nothing. All he knows is Fernando Sucre took the money, Bagwell escaped for parts unknown, and he and Scofield parted ways months ago.

Agent Kim calls to express disapproval. Alexander assures him that he's focused on finding the fox and his brother. And while he is, there's a paper in his wallet burning a hole and he keeps digging into the tangled web of the Company.

Patoshik shows up. Wheeler makes the collar. Patoshik is put into psychiatric care, drugged to the gills. When Alexander asks him about Scofield, he babbles about the tattoo and the devil and the map. He describes the way it lays over Scofields skin. The burn on Michael's back. The way the windows darken just over his nipples until they're almost invisible, except when he's cold and they're hard and the little pink tips stick out and it just ruins the whole aesthetic.

Alexander thinks about killing him on principal, because even though he doesn't think Patoshik is gay, there's definitely an element of sexuality to his voice as he describes it. Or maybe it's just him.

At any rate, Patoshik saves himself by explaining the tattoo is a secret map to Holland one day Michael is coming back to lead him there. Even Agent Kim deems him not a threat, and Alexander leaves Patoshik to go home to fuck Billy.

The case drags on. Agent Kim had been breathing down his neck about Scofield and Burrows, and Kellerman had taken his picture in front of Pam's house after Scofield is spotted briefly in Kentucky. Alexander follows the lead, but can't find a trace of either brother.

"It's not my fault," he tells Kim. "They're keeping a low profile. I'm good at my job, but I'm not a magician."

"I'm sure your son would appreciate it if you became one," was Kim's answer. "Find them and kill them."

Alexander starts having headaches. He spends more time at work and less time at home. He eats less, loses weight. He doesn't sleep, spending every moment either on the case or researching the Company. He snaps at everyone, especially Billy, who becomes something of a mother hen. He's cranky, irritable, and completely on edge. When he tries to up his dose of midazaolam, Billy refuses.

"You're a dealer, boy," Alexander says after pinning Billy to the wall. "I pay for the drugs, you deliver. What part of that are you having a problem with?"

Billy blinks those amazing silvery blue eyes at him. Swallows. "It's just I have some time lately, you know? So I've been doing some research. I was at the school library, right, reading the medical texts. This pill you got me giving you, it's dangerous. You take too much of it, it can do some real damage. I still don't get why you choose this, but fine, whatever. But I'm not gonna let you hurt yourself or fry your brain or whatever."

"You're not a doctor."

"But that doesn't mean I'm stupid. I know you're really unhappy right now. You don't need more pills. You just need to relax enough for the ones you got can do their jobs." Billy tentatively puts one hand on Alexander's face. Strokes. "I'm worried about you, Alex. There's something going on, isn't there? More than the case, right?"

Alexander releases Billy. Steps away. "I've got to go. I'll be in late tonight. Don't wait up."

Billy doesn't wait up. But, then, Alexander doesn't come home that night, either. Bagwell is spotted in Kansas. Alexander and his team go down. Bagwell is cornered in a house with three civilians. Words are exchanged. Threats from him. Platitudes from Alexander, promising they'd be easy with him, take him back give him what he wanted. Treat him with respect. All the same words he'd said to Abruzzi and countless other criminals. With them, he'd meant it. With Bagwell? Even if the Company didn't need a kill, Alexander probably would have planned to kill Bagwell anyway. The man was a murdering pedophile and Alexander was a father. It was a simple equation.

They move in. There are screams. A kid flies out the window. Alexander goes in through it, gun out.

He doesn't see Bagwell jump at him. There's a shard of glass in his one hand that slices right through Alexander's neck. Guns go off. Bagwell's body falls to the ground next to his own. There's a lot of blood, and then the lights go out.

When Alexander wakes up, Billy is sitting in a chair across from the bed. Next to him is Pam, who has her arm around Billy. Their eyes are both red and swollen, although Pam looks a little more pulled together. She has, after all, been through this before.

"Billy," Pam says when she sees that Alexander's eyes are open. She nudges him.

His entire face lights up when he sees Alexander awake. He rises, stumbles over to the bed kisses Alexander fiercely. "Don't do that to me!" he shouts when he pulls away.

The monitor next to the bed is beeping loudly. Alexander's head is so fuzzy, he can't breathe and kiss at the same time.

He swallows. Breathes a few minutes. Says, "Sorry." His eyes slide to Pam. "How long?"

"Four days," Pam says. She comes to the other side of the bed. Takes his hand and squeezes. "Billy called me as soon as he heard."

"I just..." His voice cracks. Tears well in his eyes. "I'll be back." And Billy leaves very abruptly, locking himself in the bathroom.

Pam smiles crookedly and bends over to kiss Alexander on the forehead. "You've got quite a man there, Alex. Don't screw it up."

* * *

"Got a package today," Michael said, coming up from the shop. There's a grease stain on his nose and forehead. His was wearing his ratty jeans that slung low on his hips, a white tank undershirt and, as always, no shoes. He was holding a box, shaking it gently. "From the States."

Alexander set down his crossword. Reached for the box. "Pam?"

"No, Billy." Michael dropped onto the couch next to him. "I'm guessing it's the pills. You sure he can be trusted? He is a drug dealer."

"Not any more," Alexander reminded him. "And, yes, we can trust him. He wouldn't do anything to hurt me."

Michael cocked an eyebrow at him as he opened the box. He didn't say anything, but his expression clearly said he was unconvinced.

"I ever tell you about the thing with Bagwell?" Alexander asked. Inside the box were about ten bottles of pills, all labeled. There was also two papers, one from the computer, one in Billy's handwriting.

"He stabbed you. You almost died. T-Bag did die, and you saved the family he was after."

"Right. However, what I didn't tell you was by that time, the Company had had enough with me. I'd failed to catch you and Lincoln, I wasn't killing enough convicts for them. And now I went and got myself so injured, I'd be out of commission for a least a month or two. I was dead weight to them, and they wanted me out of the picture. So they asked Billy to kill me."

"What?"

Alexander nodded, setting the box on the table. "They had more than enough on him. They explained they could either end his life, throw him in jail, get his mother--who was sick and living at a convalescent hospital--moved to a hospital more within the price range of an incarcerated drug dealer. Or much, much below. They told him how to do it. How easy it would be. That no one would know. That they'd get him off and give him anything he wanted. Just to get me out of the picture. And you know what he did?"

Michael shook his head.

"He brought my computer to the hospital. All the research I had done on the Company. Stuff he dug through on his own, using what contacts he had. And the kid was pretty well connected. And then, while I was convalescing, he and I put it all together, so when I was released from the hospital, I was able to call the press and put an end to the conspiracy." He took Michael's hand and rubbed his thumb over the knuckles. "So, yeah, we can trust him. You asked him for help to taper me off the pills, and he'll pull through."

Michael exhaled hard. Moved in and kissed Alexander, soft, sweet, almost chaste. "I hope so," he whispered. "Drugs scare me."

"I know." He rubbed Michael's head. Kissed his neck. "But he knows what he's doing. And if something goes wrong, you're here to take care of me." He kissed Michael's neck again. Nuzzled behind his ear. Sucked on his earlobe.

"Don't you.... don't you want to read what he wrote you?" Michael asked breathlessly. His hands slipped under Alexander's shirt, moving with restless motions.

He sucked on Michael's neck, worrying skin between his teeth. "I probably should." He licked the spot he'd just worked on, kissed it, then pulled away. "I love the way you look in those jeans."

Michael smirked. "Why do you think I wore them?"

"Linc and LJ won't be back until tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow evening."

"So... can you close the shop?" He stroked the red spot on Michael's neck.

He rose. "Of course. But, remember, we have plans for tomorrow"

"Yeah, we'll stay in bed all day."

Michael smiled mysteriously and shook his head. "Nice thought, but no. Just until noon." He leaned over and kissed Alexander lightly on the lips. "I'll be right back." HE turned, wiggled his bottom, and left the room.

Alexander reached over to the box and extracted Billy's letter.

Dear Alex, it read,

When Pam called me to tell me you needed my help, I almost told her to shove it. That you'd gotten yourself into this mess, that I'd told you those pills of yours were dangerous, and you could deal with it yourself. But I couldn't. Because the thing is, I'm mad at you, and I'm hurt that you left, but I still love you. And I know you don't love me, and you never pretended to, and, well. I'm not okay with that, yet, but it's not your fault. You were honest. And I know I'm the one that left you, but that's just because I wouldn't let you go. Because I needed you. Truth was, I was afraid that if you left, I'd turn out like everyone always thought I would. No one ever thought I'd be able to do anything. The fact I was in junior college was a shock to people, and the only way I ever managed that was through dealing. And part of the reason I was going was because of the customer base. I was failing, even though I liked my class, and everyone thought I was a fuck up. Even you did, when you were questioning me about Shales.

And then you didn't. I don't know what you changed your mind, but all the sudden you were treating me like I was somebody. I wanted to be somebody for you. I was afraid that, if I let you leave me, then I'd regress. Stop caring about myself because you didn't care anymore. So I made you stay until, finally, Pam made me realize that it didn't matter where you were, you always would believe in me. She also made me look at everything I'd done. I managed to graduate from college. Get into medical school. And I'd had a relationship with someone that lasted four years, which is way longer than anyone else in my family.

She also made me realize I wasn't happy. Not really. I was working so hard to make you stay, it was making me feel like I didn't deserve to be with someone who did want me. So, I let you go.

I miss you so much, but I'm trying to move on. Who knows, maybe one day you, me, Michael, and whoever I end up with (and I really hope I end up with someone) can all get together and have a drink or something.

I hope Michael makes you as happy as you always made me.

Love, Billy.

Fin



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