Michael never does figure out exactly what happens that day – actually scratch that. He eventually figures out the how, but never the why, though he supposes that isn’t as important as he thinks it is, really. But, the why remains a mystery, even years later when it’s all over and done with.
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The last thing he remembers is sitting in the back of the prison transport vehicle on his way to Pentonville and the next thing he knows, he’s waking up on a couch in a dark room in a cabin in the middle of absolutely nowhere.
The lights are all out and the blinds on the few scant windows are drawn.
“Hello?” He calls out, doesn’t see anybody, but then again he can’t see anything that’s more than a foot away from his face.
“Don’t get too loud.” A voice says in the darkness and a dim flashlight switches on. If Michael hadn’t recognized the voice, the barely illuminated figure would have cemented it. Johnny Zacchara. “no one should be searching yet, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“What’s going on?” Michael whispers back, moving to sit up and it is then that he realizes his head is absolutely pounding. As he raises a hand to the bass drum currently residing in his skull, he feels a raised bump. “God, what’d you do to me?”
Johnny shrugs. “Had to knock you out. Sorry about that. Knocked your guards out, too.”
Such a statement gets his undivided attention. He forces eyes that are seeing double to zero in on Johnny. “What!? Why?”
“’Cause I’m not letting you go to jail.” Johnny says simply, as if he alone can make the decision that allows him to. Michael takes in his surroundings again, now that his head is spinning a little less. Maybe he does.
He has a concussion, he decides. Has to. There’s no way Johnny is actually risking his own freedom to help his sister’s murderer, whether or not Johnny testified on his behalf at his sentencing hearing. This is just too much. “…Why are you doing this? Helping me, I mean…”
“Because you still have a chance to not become your father. And I don’t want you to lose that.” Johnny explains, choosing his words carefully as he levers himself to his feet and crosses the room to sit beside Michael on the couch. “The guards who were with you on the trip to Pentonville were guys I paid off. It’s all set up so that it looks like the truck flipped and you managed to escape. And this is where you get a choice.”
Allies 1/2 (Johnny/Michael) - hope I did it justice - (sorry for the delay, finals eat my brain)
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The last thing he remembers is sitting in the back of the prison transport vehicle on his way to Pentonville and the next thing he knows, he’s waking up on a couch in a dark room in a cabin in the middle of absolutely nowhere.
The lights are all out and the blinds on the few scant windows are drawn.
“Hello?” He calls out, doesn’t see anybody, but then again he can’t see anything that’s more than a foot away from his face.
“Don’t get too loud.” A voice says in the darkness and a dim flashlight switches on. If Michael hadn’t recognized the voice, the barely illuminated figure would have cemented it. Johnny Zacchara. “no one should be searching yet, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“What’s going on?” Michael whispers back, moving to sit up and it is then that he realizes his head is absolutely pounding. As he raises a hand to the bass drum currently residing in his skull, he feels a raised bump. “God, what’d you do to me?”
Johnny shrugs. “Had to knock you out. Sorry about that. Knocked your guards out, too.”
Such a statement gets his undivided attention. He forces eyes that are seeing double to zero in on Johnny. “What!? Why?”
“’Cause I’m not letting you go to jail.” Johnny says simply, as if he alone can make the decision that allows him to. Michael takes in his surroundings again, now that his head is spinning a little less. Maybe he does.
He has a concussion, he decides. Has to. There’s no way Johnny is actually risking his own freedom to help his sister’s murderer, whether or not Johnny testified on his behalf at his sentencing hearing. This is just too much. “…Why are you doing this? Helping me, I mean…”
“Because you still have a chance to not become your father. And I don’t want you to lose that.” Johnny explains, choosing his words carefully as he levers himself to his feet and crosses the room to sit beside Michael on the couch. “The guards who were with you on the trip to Pentonville were guys I paid off. It’s all set up so that it looks like the truck flipped and you managed to escape. And this is where you get a choice.”